The Promise of No Words

Chapter 4

"Give that back."

My voice sounded rough and thick, as if it had been through a long journey in a well. It seemed weak and fragile, more like the last words of someone about to pass away. Even though I struggled to look authoritative, the figure remained calm and did not back away. They kept rummaging through my bag as if they were raccoons in a candy store, not caring about my situation or how I sounded.

“Piss off,” he said, without looking up.

I blinked. The rain fell softly on the leaves, soothing my lungs as the fire continued to burn. I held a stone in my hand, resting it near my thigh.

The creature grabbed the last packet of herb paste from my bag, took a bite and immediately started gagging.

What in the world is this? Dead moss?”

I managed to say, “Wound paste.”

He threw the spit onto the mud. “You people really eat some nasty shit.”

“I don’t. I USE it.”

Now he turned his attention to me. Really looked. He was very thin, had sharp bones and was filthy. Eyes that look like a silver coin covered in dirt. Bare feet. Ripped coat. He was probably no more than twelve years old. Or younger. Or older. The more I examined the evidence, the more confused I became.

I moved too quickly into an upright position. My ribs were on fire with pain. I held onto a root to help me balance.

The kid got up from the chair.

For a brief moment, he seemed to disappear.

Unlike movement. Not the same as speed.

Like a shadow that separates from the skin.

I froze.

The boy’s smile was wide and cracked. “Thought so.”

“What the fuck are you?”

A person who is more intelligent than you. You shouldn’t let yourself sleep so soundly, cripple.

I stood. Slowly. My arms were stiff and my shirt was covered in mud. I didn't answer his insult. Was unable to meet the challenge. No point.

His eyes briefly focused on my prosthetic. “That real? Is it okay for me to bite it?”

“Eat it or I’ll make you try it.”

He smiled even more broadly. Then he looked at me with a narrowed gaze.

“You're not from around here.”

“No one is, anymore.”

“Right. The entire place was illuminated last night. Real pretty. Screaming and all that.”

I felt my heart skip a beat. I looked at him for a moment.

He waved his hand. I didn’t do it, so there’s no need to worry. Just watched.”

"You were watching?"

“Yeah. From the trees themselves.” He got down and picked a beetle from the tree next to me. I examined it and then gently crushed it between my fingers. “Oath-bandits don’t pay much attention to what’s above them.”

I moved one step ahead. “Did you see them?”

I noticed you as well. Carrying that old man through the mud as if he were a sack of potatoes. Brave. Dumb. But brave.”

I was feeling cold now. Not because it’s cold. From the way he didn’t blink at all.

“You understood what they were,” I replied.

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “Yes, I do.”

“What are these things?”

He now turned completely. His face lost its smile. The rain made both of us wet, sticking his hair to his forehead.

“You don’t need to know that right now.”

“I do.”

“No. You don’t.” His voice was different. Just a little bit darker. Rougher. You believe you’re a smart little guy. But you can trust me—what’s ahead? You should avoid being involved in any way.

“I’m already involved.”

He looked up at her with a tilted head. Then chuckled, like I'd told a joke. It is a sad storey.

"Yeah. I guess you are."

He paused for a moment. No snark. No grin.

Then—

He sniffed. “Stay away from the river.”

“What?”

He leaned down and began tying the bag shut with his dirty hands. “Just don’t.”

“Why not?”

“They’re listening.”

I felt a chill go through my body. “Who’s ‘they’?”

He put the pack on his shoulder, turned to me and his eyes shone like glass under the moonlight.

“They don't have names you’d survive saying out loud. But hey.” He winked at me. You can call me Bunny.

“Bunny.”

I said that very thing.

“That’s not a proper name.”

It is happening now. You prefer Murderfox, do you? Doomchild? Everything is about branding.

I stared. He waited.

“Evin.”

“I understand.”

“Of course,” I said quietly.

He threw my bag back in my direction. "You're welcome."

"You stole from me."

"And now I'm done. So you're welcome."

I looked inside the package. He had eaten the last of my dried fruit, cleaned the salt off the jerky and left muddy marks on every healing packet.

I sighed. “Why haven’t you left yet?”

He shrugged. “You don’t have the same scent as them.”

“Who?”

“The oath-fuckers. The ones who mark their promises on their bodies. You smell…” He frowned. “Like nothing.”

“Thanks.”

It wasn’t meant as a compliment. It's weird.”

He crouched down again, running his fingers over the wet ground as he looked at a colourful mushroom growing at the base of an old oak tree. The bright, fragile cap on the fungus against the dark, rich soil caught his eye, almost as if it were a small miracle in the midst of their troubles. It seemed odd, given that he had just been telling everyone about the impending apocalypse as if it were nothing special. At that point, he looked around and noticed the beauty of nature, realising that life can still thrive in the most unlikely situations.

I settled down on the wet roots. I felt pain in my bones. I felt like something was off with my skin. Too loose. Too tight. I was no longer sure.

“We have to find help for him,” I whispered.

“Him?”

“My uncle.”

“Alive?”

“For now.”

He observed me closely. Got to know me very well.

“Okay,” he replied. I’ll accompany you. Just a little bit.”

“Why?”

Because you’re not very talkative. And you look like shit. If you die in the desert, I’ll get bored.”

“You’re not very good at being a mysterious creature.”

“Yeah. I hear that comment quite often.

He went ahead, not waiting and stepped over the wet roots with great skill. Almost... inhuman.

Yet, they are not a threat. Not yet.

I went into the trees after him, my heart beating loudly inside me.

I wasn’t sure what he was. Or what I was about to experience.

I was aware that the fire was just the start of what was to come.

Whatever he was, he was about to change the world.