Chapter 12

After five days of traveling the group found themselves camping another day’s travel outside of Borhevan. Borhevan was a river town centered around a joint in a major river that flowed southwest towards Vordenport. The plan was to get there the next day and find a place to stay so they could restock supplies and get a decent night’s sleep in actual beds.  They were all looking forward to it, except Drule, who could sleep soundly just about anywhere anyway, and preferred to stay away from cities. Sleeping in separate rooms would also give them a chance to get away from Shernine’s snoring. As quiet and calm as Shernine typically came across, his snoring was like a howling from a bear. Michael was hoping to find a place in town to get some milk to help with his stomach infection. He had definitely been having the most issues sleeping as a result of the intense stomach pain he was experiencing. He tried to keep the darkness in his veins hidden but Bart noticed one day that it had creeped up well past his elbow and was sure to reach his neck soon. It was something unlike any of them had ever seen before. James was hoping either Shernine or Drule would have some insight to offer on the subject, but it was a truly unusual case. Shernine said it looked familiar but he couldn’t remember a time when he had encountered it before and Drule would only ever shrug in his slow demeanor when asked about it.

Drule was very quiet generally so no one was really surprised when he refused to answer. Shernine talked to him on a regular basis but rarely got any sort of response from the large beast of a man. The boys all felt awkward talking to him and never getting an answer so they generally didn’t say anything to him at all. Drule was most talkative to the horses who would all gather around him attentively so he could brush their manes and whisper to them about where they would be headed. James was amazed by his ability to keep them calm; he was the only person he had ever met more capable with the animals than his parents. He imagined whenever they made it back home, Drule couldmeet his parents and show them how he was able communicate with them. He figured his mother would fawn over his abilities and his father might wish to keep in touch with him to assist with particularly stubborn stallions.

James spent a lot of time thinking about his parents. He wasn’t used to be separated from them for so long. Even though it hadn’t been an entire week it was the longest he had ever been away from them. It didn’t bother him too much but they were always on his mind. It seemed odd not knowing what they were up to, or how things were going on the ranch. He wasn’t sure if they felt the same way about him. Bart was used to not having his father around for extended periods of time and didn’t seem too concerned about his mother, as she was fairly independent, despite here deteriorating health. He told James she was as strong as his dad and was most worried that they might get used to having him out of the house while he was gone. Michael was too busy trying to maintain his composure in spite of his own sickness, vomiting about twice a day, to really worry about how his family was handling life in his absence. It made James feel uncomfortable, not experiencing the same sort of pain he was going through while witnessing it on a daily basis. Michael tried to play it off casually but was becoming increasingly more tired and irritated with traveling as the days went by.

The boys were surprised at how easily Drule’s horse carried him, considering how large he was. He had a sort of ritual to go along with mounting the horse. He would always whisper something to it first and give it a good few pats before placing his foot in the saddle. Then he would run his fingers through its mane and say “Here we go now,” before effortlessly lifting himself onto its back. It was sort of amazing to watch such an overbearing person be so gentle with the creature.  Bart was not nearly as large and his movements were much clunkier as he tried to get on his horse. He had never ridden one before starting on their journey.  One day he tried whispering something into his horse’s ear but it began to trot into the woods rather than remaining steady for him. Bart claimed it was the horses own behavior and not his inability that was the problem. Drule managed to calm it down for him and he was able to mount the saddle. As the horse walked back to Bart, calmly reassuming its position, they all looked to Drule for some sort of reply but their stares were met with a simple shrug.

Most of the traveling was very easy. There weren’t any roads for traveling directly north of Vorren but there was enough travel to and from the town that the more wooded areas at least had simple paths and clearings. Shernine always insisted they camped a little way from the roads just to be safe. The boys didn’t understand his paranoia but since he was the only one who was sure where he was going they didn’t see any point in arguing about it, figuring at least they wouldn’t be disturbed while trying to sleep. Michael said that anyone who might mean them harm would have been scared off by Shernine’s snoring anyway which, of course, was met with a shrug from Drule. The group moved quickly by day and only stopped for an occasional rest or quick meal before sunset. The horses were starting to tire and it was becoming evident that at least a resting day in town would be necessary if they were to keep moving at the same pace. Shernine was hesitant to take a break but James knew that it would be better if they waited a day and rebuilt their strength rather than exhausting themselves as they had been.

During their brief pauses the boys would occasionally prod Shernine for more information regarding himself and Alchem. Shernine’s answers were usually short and cryptic. They weren’t sure whether he was crazy or just knew much more than he was willing to share. James suspected he wasn’t trying to hide anything from them but simply had very limited communication skills. It was really a mixture of both. Whenever Shernine had any kind of interaction with people in the past it was either with Alchem or the Sun leading the conversation. Alchem was, or at least used to be, very good with people. Before he became a docile old man, he was a very friendly old man. Alchem used to have many friends on earth who would converse with him on any matter of subjects. Unfortunately for Alchem he realized that living such an extended life could be lonely as he fell out of touch with most people he knew and eventually outlived nearly all of them.

Alchem used to be bustling with life back before the Dark Age and early into the dissolution of the Mainland Empire. He had a knack for humanity that was far out of reach for Shernine, Drule and the Sun. They were all very similar in their composition but very different in their personality traits. Drule never felt the need to communicate with humans and the Sun was much more authoritative on the occasions when he did interact with them. Shernine preferred Alchem’s method of speech but was unable to replicate it himself. He never felt as comfortable with earthly life as Alchem had. It became even more difficult for Shernine as Alchem fell out of touch and lost his own sense of self-awareness. It didn’t help that Shernine’s amnesia was worse than Drule’s or the Sun’s. Alchem had also spent all of his life, as far as the rest of them knew, on earth’s surface. Shernine and the Sun often escaped the earth altogether and Drule could essentially disappear from existence if he felt the need. The week that Shernine had been perusing the planet with the boys was the longest in a while that he remained bound to the gravity of the heavy planet.

In some ways he felt very proud to be leading a group of humans, and Drule, but at times preferred to take a step back and relegate his responsibilities. He could tell that the boys were more familiar with traversing difficult landscapes and terrain simply based on their experience. He couldn’t understand how they could block out the mass amounts of detail constantly passing by them as they road through the forests. Drule had an excellent sense of his surroundings and could easily remember all of the fluctuations in the paths. Where it not for his ability to follow the sun and the stars Shernine would have been completely lost, instinctively trying to memorize every tree and rock they passed. The buzzing of green and brown colors around him often gave Shernine a headache as they travelled. It wasn’t so much the speed as the amount of color reaching his vision that slowed him down. Still, he was aware that appearances were very important to humans and so he tried to remain calm and act as if he was very comfortable with what was happening around him.

Whenever Shernine was on earth with the Sun he played more of a passive role, which he preferred. The Sun could come across as very controlling and harsh and, while the Sun was rarely wrong, it helped to have a calm, relaxed tone to go along with the often severe news that the Sun delivered to his subjects. Unfortunately Shernine was painfully aware that what the Sun was doing was necessary and could never interfere with his decisions, despite his discomfort with the delivery. The Sun however was very attentive to Shernine’s opinions when it came to humanity primarily because of Shernine’s ability to receive messages from beyond the stars. It was always strange to Shernine that this power continued to sway their opinions even though he was no longer able to use it affectively. Alchem always followed the instructions of the other three but they were never sure if it was by choice or if he really agreed that they should hold authority over him. They never asked him as they were afraid of what the answer might be.

The four of them all suffered from some level of amnesia which may just have been a result of how old they all were, at least, how old they thought they were. The Sun retained the largest amount of memories and claimed they were at least a thousand years old, except for Alchem, who they had found only a few hundred years ago. They weren’t entirely sure how old he was when they discovered him.

 Even though the Sun could remember more than the rest he was the most adamant about finding out why they were all suffering from it. Shernine wasn’t sure he wanted to remember why and Drule never seemed to care too much. The last time Drule, Shernine and the Sun were all together the Sun attempted to jog their memory using a series of flashing drawings he had made. It didn’t work at all which Shernine insisted was a result of the crudeness of the drawings. The Sun insisted it had worked on humans if he could flash the images at the proper speed, but they didn’t have human brains so they were unsure as to why he thought it would work for them. Alchem refused to participate and often claimed that he hadn’t existed until he was located by the others as that was when his memories began.

Shernine watched the fire they had built crackle slowly underneath the food he was preparing. He was an excellent cook and had prepared all of the meals during the journey. Shernine enjoyed making food although he was unable to do so on the moon. James gazed into the flames with a worried expression plastered on his face. Shernine could see the concern washing over him. Five days of traveling was wearing down on him. As uncomfortable as he was with emotional interaction he felt the need to instill at least some kind of confidence with the rest of the group. “James.” James looked up at a very stern Shernine. He didn’t say anything. Before Shernine could say anything else, Michael wondered over and plumped himself down in front of the fire.

“What’s on the menu tonight?” He managed to cough out. His condition was clearly taking ahold of him as it was now difficult for him to simply sit and stand.

“Bread and meat, maybe a potato,” Shernine was always proud of what he could create using very little resources. James’ glare was cast back down towards the fire. Drule and Bart came down from tending to their horses and sat with the rest of them quietly. Shernine felt the tension in the air. He looked back towards the small burning coals in the fire. “Alchem never used magic around you boys, did he?” Michael and Bart turned to James assuming he must have seen it at some point, but James simply shrugged. Shernine threw his elbows back behind him with a resounding symphony of crackling from his spine. He pointed delicately to a coal in the fire. It rolled out from underneath the grill towards him. As he raised his finger it rose slowly from the ground and into the air, suspended in a sort of purple bubble. Shernine noticed a brown leaf start to waver down from a tree above. He waited for the opportune time and gestured towards it. Suddenly, the coal flew through the air and burnt straight through it. The boys all were aghast. This was the first experience any of them had had with sincere magic.

“Hah, good shot.” Michael laughed and then broke into a fit of coughing. Shernine rolled another coal out of the fire and lifted it into the air. They all waited patiently for another leaf. As soon as the small crack could be heard from above the coal broke lose, and hurtled towards it, burning another perfect hole through the center. Shernine smiled confidently.

“I’ve always been a good shot.”

“Sure…” Michael chuckled again, this time managing to keep his composure. “It’s easy with magic, I’ll bet.”

“Hmph. You give it a go then.” Michael glanced at Shernine. He then stood up and cracked all of his knuckles proudly. He pointed to a coal in the fire which rolled out from underneath the grill. The look on his face showed nothing but sheer surprise. He raised his finger into the air and watched, amazed at is took flight and hovered where he pointed. Michael threw a branch up into a tree above to cause a few leaves to fall. He flicked his hand forward and sent the coal right through the centers of three of the leaves. Bart and James looked at him in amazement.

“Was that me, or you?” He asked. Shernine raised an eyebrow.

“I guess it is easier than it looks.” He replied. Michael slumped back into his seat, smiling to himself. Bart seemed fascinated by the whole event. He too, stood up and pointed to a coal. Nothing rolled out from underneath the grill. He tried a few times before completely giving up. James laughed at his defeat.

“Well, we finally found something Michael can beat you at.” Bart rolled his eyes and wondered off. James wasn’t sure whether or not Shernine had been controlling the whole charade, but it was amusing to watch Bart’s utter defeat, which was especially crushing as he lost to Michael of all people. As he watched the rest of the coals turn to ash, he realized Alchem had never even mentioned using magic in the past. He knew Alchem had magical abilities, but only was aware of this because Malcolm had talked about it. Alchem refused to use it in his work, despite the opportunities that presented themselves. James hadn’t ever given it a second thought as Malcolm seemed opposed to the idea as well. He knew that no amount of magic could verify any of the experiments they were doing, and the results would hardly be helpful if they couldn’t be reproduced in an average setting. Malcom always acted as if magic was a crutch to be used only in desperate situations, so he was somewhat surprised at the carefree way Shernine used it to make a joke at Bart’s expense. He wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to it, so he simply laughed it off and enjoyed the dinner laid out before him.

Shernine, Bart, Michael and James slowly approached the gates of Borhevan later the following day. Drule had disappeared at some point while the rest of the group slept, but Shernine assured them that he would not likely ever be seen in town due to his unusual stature and inability to have any kind of serious communications with humans. Borhevan had a massive southern gate that was left open during the day and essentially impenetrable during the night. The boys noticed Shernine was uncomfortable on his feet but none of them realized it was mostly due to his inexperience with heavy gravity. The road into town was paved with stone; a much easier alternative to the rooted paths up until this point. None of the boys had been to the city in many years and felt overwhelmed by its magnificence, even Michael. The outpost soldier by the door stood firmly inside the side wall gazing absolutely forward from the window from which he was perched. As they neared the entrance Shernine halted the horses with much gusto and had them all wait by the caravan. He slowly approached the guard and cocked his head sideways. The guard remained undisturbed by their presence.

“State the reason for your presence here.” He calmly stated. Shernine wavered for a minute.

“We are… passers-by. We are seeking refuge from the elements and supplies before we continue north.” Shockingly the armored soldier gestured them forward with a calming demeanor.

“Carry on then!” He said with a smile. “Have and excellent visit to Borhevan!” Shernine opened his mouth to speak but decided not to press such a friendly welcome further. Shernine turned towards the boys and pointed into the city. As they passed underneath the gate and through the portal Bart peered upwards at the massive metal, ornate frame that would separate the city from the outside world at night. There were a few skulls perched atop spears inside the walls on either side of them. No one else seemed to notice so he chose not to divulge this information with them. Inside the wall lay the bustling city before them, filled with life and activity on a level which none of them, not even Shernine, were familiar with.

Borhevan was a diverse city filled with all sorts of shops and service stations on either side of the main road into the city center. The crowd of passers-by was dense and active as they attempted to stick together in the quickly moving morning traffic. For James and Shernine the noise was nearly unbearable. Michael and Bart were more used to a constant barrage of conversation that made no difference to them at all as they were able to block it out. James and Shernine were uncomfortable with the amount of confrontation happening around them. Borhevan was well known as a bartering town filled with many interesting wares with prices that were all negotiable depending on the buyer and the seller. Anything for sale was negotiable and people fought tooth and nail to save mere pennies.

Anyone who travelled beyond one of the few major roads would find the slums that occupied most of the rest of the city. Residents who couldn’t make a kind of honest living in Borhevan could find a somewhat sound, yet seedy alternative deeper within the city. Around the popular paths he Architecture was bold and coarse. Any sort of decoration was offset by what it was being used to display. The buildings were tall, built with stone on the lower levels and cheaper materials on higher floors. The city paid no tribute to ascetics when it came to residences. Houses and shops were all crammed together separated by an occasional small alley. The streets were narrow and most of the squares were crammed with carts and small booths advertising food and materials. Navigating the streets with a string of horses was nearly impossible for the boys.

Drugs and corruption ran rampant through the lesser known parts of the trading town. You could find a cheap place to stay away from the traveler friendly areas of the city if you were willing to look, but at the price of security and safety. The biggest trade was in illegal gambling. Borhevan was the epicenter of underground gambling rings in the mainland. This led to lots of violent crimes over disputes especially unpaid debts. Loan sharking was a dirty but lucrative business in Borhevan. Most police wouldn’t bother leaving the main sectors. Matters in the slums tended to play themselves out without any governing authority. There was a large homeless population, most of whom were victims of their own addictions, whether it be drugs or gambling. Bodies seemed to pile up in the streets near to the outer walls of the cities, most remaining unclaimed, often caused by bad batches of the latest painkillers.

Shernine led the boys and the horses inside the walls of the city looking out for a place to stay. The first location they found on the main road was well kept and far out of their price range. A few more attempts led to the same results. Michael suggested getting off the touristy road and finding a place deeper in the city. They all walked down an alleyway to find themselves on a street filled with caravans and locals. The road was cramped and no one was giving them any room to move. Pushing and shoving appeared to be the standard mode of travel in this part of town. Eventually up the road it became much less crowded and they stopped to rest by a group of boys playing some kind of ball game in the street. James plopped down on an empty crate. As Bart and Michael tied up the horses Shernine wondered over to the boys. James watched as all of a sudden Shernine was pitching for the game. “Hey, Bart found a smaller inn; we’re gunna see how much it will cost to stay the night.”

“Sure, I think Shernine is a little preoccupied now anyway.”

Inside the inn it was dirty and had a musty sort of smell to it. There were empty liquor bottles lying all over the tables in the front room which seemed to serve as a bar. There was a large counter next to all of the mailboxes with room keys dangling behind it. The man standing behind the counter looked completely uninterested in Bart and Michael’s presence. He was a scruffy, older man with a dirty apron and scraggly facial hair. They walked up to the counter, but before they could begin to speak a loud snoring broke out behind them. The man at the bar screamed over to an elderly gentleman passed out over a table with a bottle still clutched in his fist. “Get outta here Sam!” Sam didn’t even stir. The bartender grabbed an empty bottle and hurled it towards him, causing it to shatter directly above his head.

“Alright, I’m going.” He moaned as he struggled to make it to his feet and wonder off. He was still drunk by the looks of it.

“Stupid old drunk, you kids need something?”

“How much is a room for one night?” Bart asked calmly.

“65 for a night.”

“For this place?” Michael questioned him while looking around the room.

“Doors over there if you don’t like it. Another 35 if you’ve got horses need tied up.” Bart huffed.

“See you then.” He spun around and began to leave but Michael remained at the counter.

“Roll you for it; Half or double, seven or eleven.”

“Michael, don’t.”

“Alright.” They shook on it. Michael began to pull out his loaded dice, but the bartender pushed his hand down.

“You must think I’m stupid. We use mine.”

“How do I know yours aren’t loaded?”

“I know yours are, so we ain’t using ‘em.” The color drained from Michael’s face. Bart crossed his arms with a sigh and shook his head. The man pulled out a pair of cheap looking wooden dice with scratches and dents in them. They looked like they had been thrown a million times. He dropped them in Michaels hand with a confident smile. “All yours.” Michael gave them a single shake and rolled them across the bar revealing an eleven. The man looked both shocked and appalled. “You some kind of cheater?” He spat while scooping the dice back up. Michael regained his earlier confidence while Bart just stared in amazement.

“They’re your dice.” After they stared at each other for a minute the man finally resigned to the loss and placed his dice back in his pocket. Michael dropped his coins on the bar and got his key, truthfully, he hadn’t nearly enough to pay twice the rate and was planning on running the moment he lost.

“Horses can get tied up around back.” He scoffed and turned around to wash some dishes, clearly just to avoid the smug satisfaction smeared across Michael’s face. When they returned outside Bart grabbed Michael’s shoulder.

“That was a special kind of stupid. You knew his dice were loaded too. You could tell by the way he was acting when he lost.”

“Maybe they were once; not in that kind of shape. Guess I’m just lucky, and I try not to question good fortune.” Bart clearly wasn’t convinced, but Michael was somewhat right, they were very fortunate to get a good deal in such an expensive area. They asked James were Shernine was and James pointed out into the street. The boys were playing their game and Shernine was pitching all sorts of incredible pitches, most of which seemed to move straight through the batting stick. Michael ran out to the stand where they had been swinging fruitlessly, which was simply an old piece of wood that had been tossed onto the path. “Let me take a swing.” He told one of the younger boys holding the bat. Shernine turned to a child standing nearby.

“Watch this one; it’s gonna zig-zag.” Shernine had an incredible wind up to a pitch that quite literally zig-zagged towards Michael. Michael gave an astounding swing and sent the ball soaring through the air, completely out of sight, leaving nothing but a whirring sound in its wake. The boys all stared at Michael with mouths hanging open, even Shernine was shocked. James stood up with his hand shielding his eyes from the sun but couldn’t keep track of where the ball landed.

“I guess I win?” Michael subtly dropped the bat to the ground and walked away. As he passed Bart on his way back inside he was met with glaring disapproval. He shrugged and ignored him. James watched their strange interaction and was simply confused by what was taking place in front of him. It seemed out of character for both Michael and Bart, but he wasn’t sure what to say so he quietly followed them inside.

At night they all had settled themselves in the room and divvied up bed space. Shernine elected not to have any seeing as he didn’t actually require much sleep, although he definitely could sleep for hours if he wished. Bart offered to sleep on the floor if Shernine wanted a bed, but Shernine just shook his head and jumped out the window, off into the night. No one was sure what to say as he dropped delicately from the second story window as if that were a typical mode of travel. As they lay to rest Michael fell fast asleep for once soon followed by Bart. They were all bushed from the long day. James sat up in his bed on the floor staring out at the night sky. He could hear insects buzzing outside, even though they were in the city. Occasionally a few bats would fly in and out of view. It was a fairly warm night, despite it getting late into the fall season. James attempted to get some actual sleep, but Bart’s snoring was filling the room and the noise coming from downstairs was enough to keep him awake. He eventually gave up and wondered downstairs and outside. Luckily, he didn’t have to go through the bar as there was another door from outside that led to the upper rooms.

The streets of Borhevan were mostly dead at this point with the exception of an occasional yelling off in the distance or wondering soul. James looked to his left and realized there was an old man passed out in the horse trough next to him. He nudged him a bit but didn’t get any response. The guy was at least breathing so he wasn’t particularly worried about it. Another man who seemed lost meandered past the inn but was talking gibberish to himself so James felt it would be best to let him go his own way as well. Looking up at the moon James began to question if they would ever really find Alchem. Shernine’s lack of direction and Drule’s lack of interest was beginning to worry him. He knew they meant well, but meaning well didn’t guarantee and results. The trip was looking as if it were going to take much longer than expected as well. He figured he’d write home to his parents and hope they had the good sense to check the mail office when he didn’t return on time. Despite the amount of travel around Vorren in order to reach Vordenport, mail never seemed to move expeditiously in the Mainland, if it reached its destination at all. Communications were generally poor, especially in the southern regions. Local governments operated essentially independently as few orders were ever received from the capitol. The biggest government presence in the south was in Vordenport simply because it was such a large trading hub and taxes needed to be accounted for. Taxes, which no one was quite sure where they were going, or for what purpose.

The Mainland clearly lacked leadership during the Dark Age, much to the unhappiness of people living far from abundant resources, such as in the south. Most towns learned to survive on their own small economies, which left many businesses out of touch eventually leading to bankruptcy. For this reason, especially early in the Dark Age, there was a serious influx of poor citizens and an alarming amount of death from starvation. Some families further out from towns became totally self-sufficient and survived principally as a result of good hunting and strong will. Unfortunately, surviving without the structure of a community can lead to diminishing education. Not many people of the Mainland outside of the capitol and nearby cities retained the ability to read. This was amplified by the lack of mail service between villages.

As James watched the moon sink behind the clouds he heard a commotion coming from the bar. Peering in through a window he could see a crowd gathering around a bar, occasionally cheering or gasping. The concrete attention of every patron grabbed James’ curiosity so he headed inside to see what the noise was about. Much to his surprise, Michael was in the center of it all at a small table with the bartender, consequently also the innkeeper, looking very happy with a large drink in his hand. The tired and sickly Michael who they were traveling with had been replaced by a vibrant and active gambler. At the table James could see they were throwing dice but couldn’t get a good view of what was happening. He could hear people in the crowd whispering things to each other such as “How is that possible?” or “It’s some kind of trick.”

“Michael?” he interjected from the back of the audience. Michael paid no attention to the comment, but realizing James was with him a few of the crowd allowed him to reach the table.

“Six!” he heard the bartender call out. A quick throw and the dice landed both on a three. “Eight!” he called again and the number was rolled.

“Eleven!” Michael yelled. The bartender threw his dice to find a four and a seven. The crowd all whispered to one another in amazement. The bartender was clearly drunk, and not the only one in the room, to Michal’s good fortune.

“I could tell you knew they were loaded! I’m not sure how you’ve cracked em’ but clearly they’re no good to me anymore!” The bartended was laughing and slurring his words. If he weren’t so drunk he’d probably be livid that Michael had outsmarted him. The man looked up to James with a big grin on his face and rosy red cheeks showing. “You’ve got a giant cheater with you, you know?”

“I don’t cheat! I’m just good.” Michael’s ego was clearly getting the better of him.

“I ain’t ever known someone who could be gooder than a pair of loaded dice.” The man was nearly incapable of speech at this point. James looked at a small piles of coins dispersed over the table, covered in beer and food.  He grabbed Michael’s shoulder. Michael turned around to him and could tell what he was going to say by the displeased look on his face. He threw himself forward and muttered something about one more roll. Suddenly James felt himself thrown to the side. When he regained his balance he realized it was Bart, who was now dragging Michael away from the table as he kicked and screamed. James looked at Michael and then down at the gold on the table. He swept a bunch of it into his shirt and scampered off after them.

When they reached the room upstairs James let the coins fall to the floor, jingling and rolling all over the room. Bart dropped Michael to the floor with a large thud. Michael stood back up and walked right to Bart. With his chest puffed at he looked up at him and huffed. “Move!”

“No more gambling. I don’t know what you’re up to, but it’s dirty.”

“I don’t need a big lumbering oaf, like you, to be my moral compass.” He sneered at him. Bart went to grab Michael by his shirt but was stopped as Michael grabbed his wrist tightly, almost causing it to break. They stared at each other for a moment as James was left there frozen with widened eyes, unable to comprehend what was happening between his friends.. Bart eventually threw his arm down and stepped aside.

“Fine.”

Michael stormed out of the room and was barely out of sight when Bart turned and pointed a finger to James. “Those coins are dirty. I don’t want them in here.” James hadn’t ever seen Bart like this. He was acting both scared and paranoid about the gambling. It was unusual for Bart, especially because Bart had enjoyed gambling a few times in the past, and even won some money with some of his own tricks. Bart didn’t turn to make sure the job was done but just slumped down onto the bed and closed his eyes. After a few seconds of silence he could hear James picking up the coins and leaving the room. He knew James was going to the small stable to put the coins in one of the horse’s pouches, but as long as they were out of the room he didn’t care.

Bart wasn’t concerned about the gambling, he wasn’t even really mad at Michael. Bart was worried. He thought back to when they were shooting coals from the fire. That’s when he first noticed it. Originally he wondered if it was because Michael was finally getting better. But as he watched closely when Michael played the bartender for a discounted rate when it was became evident that something was awry. When he saw Michael’s hand as he had grabbed his wrist and realized it couldn’t just be a coincidence. Every time he won something it happened deteriorated as quickly as it had appeared. The darkness in Michael’s veins had almost completely vanished.