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The bitter taste of the wheat root grazed his dry tongue, an unquenched thirst amplified by the heat that baked sweat on the surface of his tanned skin. The straw hat did very little to shield his eyes from the blinding light of the sun, he squinted as he pushed through the tall grasses. Grain specks flicked around and attached themselves to anything they could hold onto. One couldn’t imagine a sheep could run this quickly.
“Shit,” Fulgur swore. He couldn’t stand the way the hat rubbed his forehead raw, and how his clothes stuck to him like glue. He was exhausted. The aching in his legs, the sharp inhale of air with every step, and the dryness of his tongue rubbed uncomfortably against the roof of his mouth. “Fucking- come back you little shit.” He groaned, the desperation making his voice crack near the end. He forcibly pushed through the wheat stems so dense it covered up to his waist. Fulgur rushed to chase the rustling of the grass just a few feet in front of him. Yet his willpower was not strong enough, and his stamina left him years ago with his youthful body. He wanted to give up, but then the rustling of the grass paused. He thought it was finally over. This game of chase that the sheep was trying to rile out of him. “Seriously, what were you trying to do by running out here?” His breath hitched mid-sigh as his arms pushed back the final bundle of wheat stems. Fulgur had only seen the word once in a bookstore decades ago. His father’s bookkeeper friend often looked after him whilst the older Ovid went into town to sell ores. Consumed by boredom, he began reading. Dozens and dozens of books, all of which varied from genre to genre. Yet one particular piece of literature caught his eye. The concept of romance was foreign to a child who barely understood the value of money. However, when the scenes of epic adventures and acts of love danced on the pages, he found himself enthralled by the idea. It happened to be that many of these books held the word “radiance”, often describing the people within the stories. Yet, Fulgur couldn’t comprehend how one could be radiant in such a way. Though then, he understood what it truly meant. Sprawled on the crushed bed of wheatgrass laid a sleeping beauty.
“Radiant” was the first-word Fulgur uttered upon seeing him.
It didn’t smell sterile. That was the norm the purple-haired boy experienced. Every corner, every dirt, scrubbed until one would see their face on the floor. The smell of alcohol stung his nose when he went to sleep, and it became expected for him to have to rub his eyes at the way the stinging shot up his nose to his head. He was used to the sterile environment because that was what made it easy for them. To ensure an isolated variable, to ensure that he wasn’t exposed to anything that could affect their experiment.
It wasn’t sterile, but it smelt new. His nose didn't sting in the way that lemon tasted sour. It wasn’t a room cold enough that his thin blanket on the tiny mattress did nothing but give him another layer of frozen touch to his skin. No, this room was warm. The blanket was soft, and for once, the mattress wasn't thin; he couldn’t feel the floor if he pushed down on it. That was how he knew something was wrong. Upon opening his eyes, he was greeted by the little particles of dust that revealed themselves in the ray of light shining into the room through the window behind him. The bed he laid in, had a quilted blanket with little cats all over, handsewn as he could tell by the mismatched hand stitching. He glanced around the room, taking in the decor of little trinkets scattered around. It seemed cluttered, but not suffocating. Almost like a hug, the room felt worn but loved.
Even with the comforting feeling, it was unfamiliar. He had no clue where he was, or who owned the room. The idea of being around someone unknown and potentially dangerous left him feeling vulnerable.
The door creaked as it opened. The water in the clay cup the man held swished as he walked through carefully. Upon entering and noticing the awake man, he paused.
“Oh, you’re awake.” He stated, causing the purple-haired man to back away on the bed, ruffling the sheets as his legs pushed him further up to the backboard. The man placed the tray down on a dresser right next to the door. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I brought some water in case you woke up.” He said. It was then he took a closer look at the man. With snow white hair, creased eye bags, and hands that seemed rough and calloused, scars littering his fingers and palm.
“Where am I?” He pressed. It was odd that he woke up in such a place, but even more so that he was being shown such compassion from a stranger.
“You’re in my house, found ya laying in the wheat farm down east, not too far from here. Brought you back 'cause I thought a bed would probably feel better for your back.” The guy laughed, his hands seemed to act out his words enthusiastically, swinging around as he pointed to random areas.
“You don’t know me.” He replied.
The guy smiled slightly, a sort of fond smile, “Don’t need to know ya to be kind.”
That seemed to stun the purple-haired boy. He stayed silent contemplating the words this strange man had spoken.
“I’ma get dinner started, I’ll come back up to bring ya some food. Here’s the water if ya need it.” The guy suggested.
The purple head nodded slowly, “Who are you?”
“Ah, sorry. The name’s Fulgur. Nice to meet ya, and you?”
The boy was silent for a moment, “0K-1”.
“I- buddy that’s not a name, I barely even know if those are words. How about I call you Uki? Sounds kinda similar.” Uki couldn’t argue as it didn’t seem to matter because Fulgur walked out the door only seconds after. This left Uki alone, in a bedroom, with his thoughts that seemed to race through his mind, and seemingly a new identity.
Voices in the back of his mind shouted at him to not trust this comfort, but the lulling of sleep overcame him instead. In and out of consciousness, Uki felt himself falling. It wasn’t like the other nights, the times when nightmares plagued his thoughts, and sleep became a chore. This slumber came to him in dreamless ways. Hours felt like seconds passing, and in his barely conscious state, a bowl of warm beige mush was settled onto his lap. Uki had been in a fatigued daze staring at the walls as if he were counting the number of exposed bricks and wood.
“Hey, I brought ya some food. I don’t think you’ll be able to stomach anything hearty, so I got ya some porridge.” Fulgur placed the bowl on the dresser once more, right next to the untouched water. Then slowly, he backed away from the door, closing it as he left.
Privacy was something Uki was never given. Many of his meals were spent alongside other patients, whilst monitored by doctors and guards to make sure that every bit of their food trays was scraped clean. Yet, this man left him to his own devices. He didn’t stay to watch him eat, and for the first time in a long while, Uki felt hungry. Without the constant eyes watching him, he would eat however much he could take.
Uki’s legs trembled slightly as he stood from the bed. Walking a few steps felt like such a workout for him, and he feared he’d fall the moment he let go of the bed frame he’d been clutching tightly. Once he managed to come close enough to the dresser to grab the food and water, he plopped back down onto the bed to enjoy his meal. However, the first bite had proven otherwise. The spoonful of tasteless mush seemed to melt into hard chunks on his tongue. It wasn’t completely inedible, but he could only empty half the bowl before choosing to give up on the possibility of the food getting any better. The cup of water was the only thing that saved his tongue from the sloppy disaster.
Trailing down the stairs slowly, the dishes clinked together and piled up in Uki's hands. He’d thought of simply waiting for Fulgur to pick up the dirty dishes, but the guilt of having to force someone who’d been so hospitable to work even more sank into the back of his mind. As such, he decided to venture out himself and was most definitely not using that guilt as an excuse for snooping around the house.
In any case, there wasn’t much to see. The small room he’d been resting in led straight to a narrow wooden staircase that creaked with every step. It didn’t help that Uki’s shaky feet seemed to cause the unstable floor to make more noise. A tiny circular window on one side of the wall gave the only illumination in the dark dusty descending hall. Reaching the bottom stairs, he noticed how truly open the area was. Still small, however. The open room held a tiny kitchenette on one of the walls, containing a burning stove crackling with its open fire and a whistling kettle on top. Cabinets littered the bottom of that wall, old mahogany that complimented the rest of the house's interior. Then there was the other side, which had a simple square table alongside four seats on each side. A single window on one wall barely lit the room, but many candles were lighting up the other.
“Oh, yer up. How ya feeling?” Fulgur asked, standing up from where he’d been rummaging through a cabinet.
“I’m fine, I couldn’t finish the food.” Uki expected a lecture or some sort of annoyed grunt. He hadn’t expected a sympathetic response.
“It’s alright, don’t force yerself.” Fulgur stood back a couple of steps as Uki walked towards the counter. Placing the plates there. “I’ll take care of the dishes, yer still not rested yet. Take a seat. I’ll grab us some tea.”
Soon the scene held a comforting silence as Uki sat, watching Fulgur’s back as he prepared the herbal drink. He twisted open a tin can and sprinkled a spoon of what looked like leaves into mismatched cups. Then he took the kettle to pour its boiling contents in. Uki had never seen such a sight before. The rooms were often so bland and white that light bounced off the walls, blinding him. Yet here when the windows dimmed from the sunset, candles were there to compensate for it. Even with the corners covered in shadow, they weren’t overly pitch black it made the room very comfortable. Uki could feel his head lolling back to that slumber as he tried his best to keep his mind running.
“Sorry about the cups, I don’t typically have people over. So most everything I’ve got is for one person.” Fulgur chuckled, settling down the cups and pushing one closer to Uki. The tea itself was a murky brown, with remnants of leaves floating on the surface.
“It’s fine,” Uki replied. He stared at the discoloured water, unsure whether he was willing to drink what looked like poison.
Fulgur smiled, taking a sip of the tea, and letting out a sigh right after. Uki followed suit. The moment the tea hit his tongue, it could only remind Uki of the taste of mud roasted in hellfire. “Ugh!” Uki coughed roughly, setting the cup down as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand in the hope of the horrible taste going away.
Fulgur could only laugh at his reaction, holding onto the table to steady himself.
The bitter taste of the mud water hadn’t dissipated, but the sounds of Fulgur cackling seemed to distract him from it for a moment. “What the fuck!” Uki shouted.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just- I knew my tea tasted like shit, but didn’t know it was that bad!” He breathed out, a chuckle in between his words.
Uki simply pushed the cup towards the man, the sound of its clay scratching with the table as he did. He was annoyed, but also amused.
“How about I get you another cup?”
“Absolutely not.”
It was probably then that Uki finally understood what those doctors who used to ask about ‘friends’ meant. Quiet conversations about nothing, and silence that only brought warmth, lit by the flames of the candles and the sparking of the crackling wood in the stove. Even when Uki whined about the terrible food, Fulgur made no rude remarks. He barely said anything. He simply laughed at his annoyance and promised to do better on the next meal. However, Uki couldn’t trust the man as the multiple meals placed in front of him for the last few days since he’d arrived were nothing less than bland dogshit. For that exact reason, Uki chose to stand guard behind Fulgur as he cooked, curious about how he kept messing up the food.
He’d never been this close to him either, so it was a new experience for the both of them. Often Fulgur would take two steps away from Uki with his hands visible to give him space. It was a nice gesture, but this time, Uki was the one to close the gap, only slightly. One step forward towards a friend.
“What are you doing?”
“Choppin’ garlic, like the recipe said,” Fulgur replied, slamming his palm against the back of the knife as it cut through the large, unpeeled garlic.
“You’re putting in a whole bulb, the recipe calls for a clove,” Uki argued.
“What’s a clove?”
“You’re adding so much pepper, why?” Uki shouted.
“To give it taste!” Fulgur exclaimed.
“You’re barely gonna taste anything if it’s too spicy!”
Fulgur found that Uki’s frustration entertained him more than anything else. Seeing him annoyed at his unfortunate inability to cook made his day.
Uki’s hand caressed the soft fur of the animal, its purr humming beneath his fingers. Mesmerized by the animal’s calm and gentle nature, he continued to stare down at the creature seated on his lap, peacefully laying there as he was spoiled. Another creature of the same species curled himself around Uki’s shoulder, pushing the side of his warm body against Uki’s cheek.
“I see you’ve met Cat and Kat,” Fulgur stated. Smiling, he brought in chopped firewood and threw them to the corner atop a dirtied rag, mking sure to stack them so that they wouldn’t topple.
“Are those their names?” Uki questioned curiously.
“Technically. I just haven’t got the time to pick out actual names for them. So I’ve just been calling them that.” He smiled, grunting as he stood up from where he had been squatting to put away the firewood.
Again, there was this silence between them. The soft purrs of the cats, as well as the light footsteps of Fulgur walking around the house with his heavy boots. It was a very pleasant feeling, but even when Uki had believed he’d finally gotten used to his presence, there were still moments when he was startled by the sudden voice.
“How’re ya feeling?” Fulgur asked, sitting at the table across from him.
“I’m fine,” Uki muttered. He had stopped for a moment out of surprise, but now he continued scratching behind the cat's ear.
“I’m glad, you were skin and bones when I found ya. The colour is coming back to yer cheeks.” Fulgur glanced at his twiddling hands and then up at Uki’s face. He noticed the small blush that painted the corners of his ears, emphasizing his fair skin.
“Are you saying I don’t look as sickly anymore?” Uki chuckled, trying to distract himself from the thoughts that raced through his mind, envisioning the way Fulgur stared at him, the way his deep voice resonated in his chest.
“Not exactly. Ya look just as beautiful as the day I met ya. Healthier, and I’d argue, happier.”
As Uki heard this, all he could think was; that
perhaps having friends is truly a blessed gift
.
As night fell, and the shadows of the darkness enveloped the land. Uki couldn’t help but stare aimlessly out the window while listening to the ruffling of leaves. A full week had passed since his arrival, and Fulgur's presence was a lingering company, one that he welcomed though hesitant at first. During that time, Fulgur had mostly been by his side. Often being right outside chopping more wood, or shearing sheep whilst Uki hung out in the cottage, happily caressing the cats’ fur. Yet that morning, there was a change. Fulgur stated his need to go out to sell the wool he’d been accumulating, as well as needing to buy more food and supplies. Uki understood that, and aided Fulgur in packing up his supplies into a large sack, which he threw over his shoulder and began treading his way down the trail and away from the cabin.
Hours had passed with no sign of him coming back. At sunset, Uki’s nerves began to rise. The nights were dangerous, Uki could tell from hearing the timber wolves howling and the creaking of whatever else could be out there. Even with his anxiety buzzing in his mind, yawns seemed to persist, and soon his heavy eyes took over.
Trapped in a dreamless slumber, the sound of the door slamming open awoke him. His sight blurred for a second before finally adjusting to the dim, candle-lit room. “Fulgur?”
His mismatched eyes watched as the white-haired man entered the door, his back slouched and he held a lantern that he slammed onto the kitchen counter. It was a rough action that caused the lantern to clank against the wood. Fulgur sighed a heavy breath and let the sack fall onto the floor with a thud. Its emptiness was shown in the sagging excess cloth.
“Fulgur?” There was a sombre look on his face, exhausted and almost angry. “What's wrong?” Uki asked, concerned.
“Sorry, just- don’t worry about it.” He replied, a hand harshly rubbing down his face. The sound of his hand rubbing against his skin was barely audible.
“But you don’t seem fine.” Uki stood up, walking closer to Fulgur as he reached his hand out to comfort the man.
“Please, just drop it.” Fulgur urged, waving away Uki's hand. He headed back outside, slamming the door behind him. The door closed so harshly that the rest of the cabin shook from the force.
Uki simply stood there slightly startled by the sudden burst of anger from someone he only knew as being happy. It terrified him, the memories of angry doctors who shouted at him came back in flashes. He hated it, he did. He hated seeing people getting angry and lashing out like that, especially when he didn’t know why. However, there was a small difference between those doctors and Fulgur. Uki wasn’t scared of Fulgur. He wasn’t cowering in the corner of his room with a blanket over his head like he used to. He wasn’t crying because of piercing glares that made him nauseous. Rather, he was simply concerned for someone he cared about. His outstretched arm, aimed towards the ghost of Fulgur’s presence swung back to his side. With his fist clenched, he headed up the stairs to his bed, frustrated. Uki threw himself onto the mattress, which squeaked as he bounced slightly “Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.” He muttered angrily, pulling the blanket up as he stuffed his head into the pillow.
The next morning felt like a weight pulling Uki under. There were so many excuses he started conjuring up to simply stay in bed and not have to remember the night before.
I’m sick - My body still hurts - I’m still mad at him and don’t wanna talk to him.
Yet as he laid in bed, his frustration kept him awake. Dusk had passed and so did the clucking of the rooster greeting the morning sun. If the situation wasn’t already annoying enough, that persistent aching in his temples from the excessive overnight thoughts only further exacerbated it.
“Uki?” And there he was, the root of the headache.
Uki stayed silent, opting to take the passive-aggressive approach rather than retaliating back immediately.
“Uki, I’m sorry about last night.” Fulgur apologized, pushing the door further open as he stepped in. There was a dip in the corner of the bed.
Uki’s stubbornness only came out as an approving grunt.
Fulgur let out a hitched breath as he stared at the still figure cuddled in the linens. “Look, how I talked to ya yesterday was not alright. Especially when you’d been so nice to wait for me. Ya didn’t deserve that sort of attitude.”
“Then why did you act that way?” Uki murmured
“I- I don’t think ya want to know.” Fulgur hesitated, his breath had hitched for a moment before he responded.
Perhaps it was that hesitance that pissed Uki off even more. He flung off the linen cover, sitting himself up on the bed as he pouted frustratedly at the shepherd. “After you were such an ass to me? I’d very much like to know why.”
Fulgur ran his hand through his hair, feeling it tangle itself in between his fingers. He pulled forcibly to get his hand out, feeling the sting of a few strands breaking apart. “Yeah, honestly I just hoped to keep this from ya a little longer since it’s not happy news.”
“I’m not glass, Fulgur.”
“I know that, but ignorance is bliss. Especially in cases like this.”
Uki raised a brow at such a statement. He’d have to disagree. Back in the laboratory, ignorance was not bliss, ignorance meant choosing to deny the truth. While it may have benefited them to pretend life was fine, in the end, after the experiments, they’d still be haunted by those memories. Ignorance meant reliving and knowing meant acceptance. “Fulgur, I’d rather know about something bad so I can understand and adapt rather than pretend it didn’t exist.”
Fulgur pressed his lips into a line as he breathed out another sigh. “Yeah, I guess yer right.”
After a few moments, he began again. “I used to have a good friend. A scholar of sorts who loved learnin’.”
“Okay?” Uki listened attentively.
“We were friends as kids, our dads were comrades in war together, and he loved to read books. His dad opened a bookshop, at the time parchment wasn’t too expensive. We had a shit load of sheep back then.” Fulgur looked down at his hands that snaked around each other, rubbing against the rough dry skin. “One of the books. It was a stupid potion book. Taught you how to make simple potions and such. As kids, we loved reading it. We reread probably over a thousand times, me and him.”
“I’m not seeing an issue here.”
“There wasn’t an issue, at least not one we could control. Rumours started up around the time we were teens, and soon there came this whole controversy of people doing witchcraft, and how such acts should be punished.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, it’s not like witches didn’t exist, they still do, but with more and more people coming out to curse their existence-…”
“-people began to riot.” Uki finished. Fulgur nodded his head.
“My friend-… they found the book and a few more like ‘em, and he took the blame. They drove him out, which is a mercy I’ll always be grateful for.”
“Where is he now?” Uki asked, his brow furrowed in worry.
“Hopefully somewhere better and far away from here. I’m just praying that he’s alive.” Fulgur looked back up at Uki. A tight smile adorned his face, accompanying the dark circles that Uki now noticed around his eyes. “Last night, while I was out on the town. There were corpses displayed in the centre. People accused of being witches.”
“I thought they were driven out?”
“At first, but when more and more people were accused, they thought execution would probably fix the problem.” Fulgur rubbed his hands against his face. “It was horrible… They screamed for help, and pleaded their innocence… There was nothing I could do! I’d have ended up being killed the same way!”
“It’s not your fault!” Uki reached out his hand to touch Fulgur’s arm. He pulled Fulgur's hands away from his face and brought his soot-stained hands onto his delicate pale ones. “There wasn’t anything you could have done.”
“Uki-… they were kids…” Fulgur let out a soft sob. His breathing was heavy as he cried out “There was a little girl… her charred eyes looked right at me and-… fuck! I just, I should’ve done something. I could have saved her!” He brought the back of his hand up to wipe away the tears that spilled from the corner of his eyes
Uki didn’t respond at first, unable to form the words he wanted to convey. He chose to let his body speak instead. His arms wrapped themselves around Fulgur’s chest and clutched onto the back of his tunic. Fulgur was shocked at the action. It had been the first time that Uki had ever physically touched him. It was surprising, but comforting nonetheless. Fulgur melted into the embrace, bringing his arms to wrap around Uki’s shoulders. He planted his face further into the nook of Uki’s neck. His tears stained the white-lined top that Uki had claimed when he’d arrived. The hug grew tighter the louder Fulgur cried. That was the only thing they could hear for a while. Each other’s heavy breathing, and Fulgur’s agonized sobbing.
Perhaps the universe saw their anguish, as clouds began closing in on the sky. Soon began the drizzle of little specks of water. It made the air uncomfortably moist, in a way that caused the skin to dampen even when dry, and the air smelled different than what Uki was used to. However, he didn’t mind it as it brought out the wooden oaky musk of Fulgur’s scent more. It was as if he were surrounded by the man. With the rain tumbling against the ground outside, the soft cries of his friend who embraced him so tightly, and the familiar scent of oak. Uki was fine with this.
Uki noticed they’d gotten closer. Mostly the fact that he’d often lean towards Fulgur rather than away like he used to. Small things, like saving space on the couch for Fulgur to sit next to him while they pet the cats, as well as Uki, choosing to sit on the seat at the side closest to Fulgur rather than across.
Their conversations also became more frequent, while they remained mostly Fulgur ranting about whatever came to his mind while Uki listened happily. He found himself waiting excitedly for Fulgur to return from his trips to the town so they may speak of whatever. Even if those conversations weren’t of flowers and roses, but rather fires and screams. Uki allowed Fulgur to speak his mind and let out the built-up guilt and agony he’d held in for so long. In turn, Uki did the same, not letting too much information leak. He told Fulgur of his memories of being trapped by people who hurt him and experimented on him. He recalled the years of constant fighting against the aggressors who used his body for their selfish desires, injecting him with various drugs that would cause burning pain for hours later.
Fulgur’s reaction to these recollections? He took to the town and searched every clothing shop for the nicest fabrics he could find. When he came home, he had spent the money he saved for new shears in exchange for new softer clothes made by the best artisans the town could offer. Upon showing them to Uki, and seeing them worn, he knew his decision was worth it. The smile Uki gave him was enough to pay for several shears and some more.
The days blended smoothly. Fulgur introduced Uki to the animals, and soon he became a regular companion to the shepherd in his morning rituals. However, he still kept his new roommate alone at home when he went out into the town. Coming home to see him playing with the cats was enough to relieve all the fatigue he’d accumulated from that day’s work. Still, there was that guilt, from feeling as if he were trapping Uki there.
“Are you sure?” Uki asked.
“Yeah, yer probably getting antsy trapped in this place. I’m sure a trip to the nearby town would be nice.” Fulgur stated, stuffing the cloth bag full of shaved wool which he’d planned to sell at the marketplace.
“I don’t mind this place. It’s cozy. I don’t want to burden you.” Uki frowned, his hand brushing the hair of the brown horse next to him.
“It’s alright, I’ve been thinking of taking you down there for a while now.” Fulgur lifted a couple of the bags and threw them onto the carriage. “There’s a friend of mine down there who owns a fabric shop, you can choose a few more pieces and I’ll make you blankets and clothes out of ‘em.”.
Uki shook his head in disapproval. “You’ve bought me nice clothes already. I refuse to make you spend more on me than you already have.”
Fulgur laughed and raised his hand towards Uki. Having already prepared the horse at the front of the worn carriage, they were ready to set out on their journey. The only thing missing? The prince of the castle.
“Come on, it’s fine. I want to buy you more stuff.” Fulgur grinned. Uki stared at him for a moment and sighed, he took Fulgur’s hand who pulled him onto the wooden seat of the carriage. As they settled, the horse began trotting its way through the forest. Uki looked back as the house he’d been living in disappeared from his sight, blocked by the trees.
The ride itself wasn’t exactly the most comfortable. Uki’s bottom became sore from the wooden board used as the seat, and alongside the shaking of the carriage that was likely years old, it only made his body ache more. However, he did enjoy the silent journey alongside his friend, watching the same type of trees pass him over and over again. It didn’t take long for them to reach the wooden gates of what seemed to be a boarded-up town. The bricked walls held high beyond the trees, and there were large towers on both sides of the gates. On the path were several other people holding bags and such as they lined up to pass through. Some other individuals guarded those gates, wearing what seemed to be metallic clothing rusted and dented on certain parts of their bodies. They proceeded towards the line, and Fulgur rummaged through his leather side bag for a moment. One of those metallic guards who’d been interacting with those in the front eventually came to them.
“Ovid, back again?” He says, a fond smile on his face as he took what seemed to be a piece of parchment from his hand.
“Need to get my wares sold,” Fulgur replied. The guard took a look at the parchment, skimming it with his eyes before handing it back.
“You’ve got company for the first time.”
“A friend I met on the road, hired some help in exchange for a place to stay.” Fulgur quickly put the parchment back into his bag. “We good to go now?” He asked, a strained fist holding onto the reins of the horse.
The guard eyed Uki weirdly for a moment, making him feel uncomfortable. He leaned towards Fulgur as he hid what he could from the guard.
“Ya know, you’d probably get a pretty coin if you sold him for a night. Hell, I’d give ya two.” The guard laughed.
“He ain’t for sale,” Fulgur growled, his hold on the leash tightening even more.
“Damn, that’s too bad then. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” The guard smirked, stepping away from the carriage as the wooden gates opened wider for the carriage to pass through.
Fulgur didn’t respond, only telling his horse to move along. Which he did, though slower than either of the two passengers would have liked. Uki was introduced to the sight of the town. Houses coupled together, and people walking along the streets. Kids played happily with one another, while little market stalls were set up all around. Uki found the scene magnificent, and far from his expectations.
“Sorry, scum like that don’t deserve that sort of job.” Fulgur’s low gorans interrupted Uki’s sightseeing. He turned his head to glance at the taller man and noticed the spark of anger in his eyes.
“It’s alright. Let’s just hurry to your friend’s shop.” Uki suggested, moving his hand to place a comforting touch on Fulgur’s forearm.
That was how they rode for a while, simply basking in the comfort of each other’s company as they continued further into the town. As they pass by the building riddled by luxurious shops, the scenery began showing the more damning parts of the town’s history. New buildings turned into old cracked houses. This part of the town seemed older and used.
“This is the town when it first was built. The outskirts by the gates are new territory to bring in tourists and merchants.” Fulgur explained. His eyes were set straight in front of him as the horse continued to trot forward.
It no longer looked to be the nice new neighbourhood he’d assumed it was. Fewer and fewer people roamed the streets, and those that did were bodies consisting of skin and bones. Their faces were sunken in, and their were clothes tattered beyond repair. It was a truly devastating sight that only made Uki want to look away. He almost threw up the leftovers of his breakfast when he noticed one of them staring at them. A young child, a boy, whose hair grew past his shoulders, ragged with dirt and pieces of bark entangled within his locks. His skin was marked with scars, some fresh and others swollen into keloids. The kid stared at them with a sort of longing. Likely for salvation.
“Uki-…” Fulgur whispered, noticing the hardened grip on his arm.
“Let’s hurry.” Uki urged, closing his eyes in hopes of no longer being able to see the disastrous scene around them.
Fulgur didn’t say anything after that, but he could feel the guilt next to him. Uki’s sympathy for these people ached alongside his helplessness. There wasn’t much he could do, and perhaps this was how Fulgur felt when he saw that girl.
They arrived upon a small hole in the wall. A dark wooden door squished between two shops of various trinkets. Their long journey ended as Fulgur pulled on the reins to tell the horse to stop. He got off the carriage and tied the leash to a nearby wooden post, making sure it was secure before aiding Uki in getting down from the carriage.
“This is your friend’s store?” Uki asked, staring at the moss-invaded door.
“Yeah, I get most of my fabrics from here.” He responded. He moved to the back of the carriage where he unlatched the hinge allowing the little side door to fall. Immediately unloading the bags of wool from it and dropping them onto the ground.
“Need help?”
“Nah I’m good, you head inside first. It’ll just take me a minute.” Fulgur reassured him.
Uki nodded and headed towards the door. He pushed it open, the creaking door, revealing a sort of large storage room. It was filled to the top with large rolls of a variety of fabrics, wrapped around planks of wooden boards. It wasn’t as if the fabrics were pleasing to the eyes either. Most of them had muddled down colours, and a large portion of the storage room seemed filled with yellowish beige.
As Uki opened the door, there came a soft ring above him.
“Hello! How can I help you?” A light quick voice came from behind the mountains of fabrics.
Uki tried to peer over, but all he could see was the top of a blonde matte mop of hair. “Uh, hi? I’m here with Fulgur to drop off some stuff.”
There was a tumble of items and Uki took a step back, surprised by the sudden sounds. “Fu-chan?” Emerging from a pile of loose materials came a shorter lady. Her yellow hair curled into a bob, and her eyes were the colour of sapphires. “Who are you?” She asked quizzically.
“A friend.” Said Fulgur, whose arrival was only highlighted by the ring of the doorbell, as well as the shuffling of bags being dragged into the store.
“Fu-chan!” The blonde shouted, digging herself out of the pile and rushing up to the older man. “Didn’t know you were coming in today.”
“Happened to have some materials left over, thought you might’ve wanted them.” Fulgur leaned against the bags of wool against the walls before looking back at the lady. “Wanted to introduce you to Uki as well.”
The blonde looked towards the other man, her face going from a confused expression to that of a delighted smile. “He’s the guy you’ve been talking about!” She shouted, running back to Uki and circling him as she stared intently at his figure. “When you described him, I thought you were talking about one of those sirens the sailors used to talk about. But now that I’ve seen him, I think you’re pretty much on the mark.” She smirked.
Fulgur flushed at the comment. “Millie!” He shouted, an embarrassing voice cracking causing her to start cackling.
Uki tilted his head to the side, slightly confused at the interaction. “What’s a siren?” He muttered. Millie’s laughs only intensified.
Watching them banter was unlike anything Uki had ever seen before. It was a warm feeling that he welcomed happily.
They didn’t stay very long. Mainly due to Fulgur not wishing to stay in the town long after dark in fear of what lurked behind the shadows. They held a now empty carriage, and Fulgur's side bag felt slightly heavier from the new addition of some copper coins from the exchange. They waved farewell to Millie in the distance as their steed continued on the path back home. The sun was setting on the horizon, and while it brought a beautiful array of lights dancing in the sky, it also brought out worries. Uki watched as parents ushered their kids inside their house. The homeless of the town crowded into the alleyways between the broken homes, huddling seemingly together.
“There’s a curfew here. By nightfall if the patrolling guards catch you out…” Fulgur stopped talking, pressing his mouth into a thin line.
“But, there are children on these streets!” Uki shouted. “We must bring them with us!” He pleaded.
“People have tried. If they catch you smuggling anyone out, you’ll become a criminal. What they do to criminals is far less merciless than what they do to these innocent people.”
His heart shattered, having to watch as they passed by strays who would cower away from them, running into the darkness for shelter.
Uki sombrely watched the streets onto the streets, as the light began to dim. However, once he saw the boy, the same boy they had run into before, his guilt took over. “Fulgur, stop!”
Fulgur pulled on the leash of the horse, stopping abruptly. Uki took Fulgur’s leather bag, stuffing his arm into the opening and grabbing what he hoped would be 3 copper coins.
“Uki what are you-?” Fulgur allowed this to happen. He allowed Uki to hop off the carriage with a small struggle before rushing towards the child.
Maybe it was the remorse he felt when staring into the child’s eyes. Maybe it was the fact that he saw himself in that kid, a helpless boy who only wanted a piece of hope to keep him going. When he was back in those labs, the only hope they had was their own will to live and Uki barely had any of that as a kid. At this moment, he’d rather live with the guilt of not doing much rather than the regret of doing nothing.
“Here. Some coins. In the morning buy yourself some food.” He said, having slid onto his knees in front of the child.
The boy stared up at him in awe before taking the money from his hands and running in the other direction without saying a single word back. In a way, Uki hadn’t expected any thanks for his actions. But even then, the way the child took off with the money without a second's notice… The desperation in that child’s eyes.
“Uki! We have to go!”
Uki turned around to see a frantic Fulgur staring at him, his hand stretched out to aid the shorter man back onto the carriage. Uki ran, his heart still in pieces. He gripped Fulgur’s hand who lifted him back up. As soon as Fulgur saw Uki back on, he whipped the reins, the horse quickly trotting its hooves against the flattened dirt.
The sun was setting far too quickly for Fulgur’s liking. Once they finally reached the front gates, the guards had changed posts. Their clothes were now far bulkier with more metal surrounding their bodies.
“Who goes there?”
“A wool merchant,” Fulgur responded, pulling on the horse reins to stop right in front of the gates that almost closed on them.
“A merchant? At this time? You should have long been gone.” The guard growled, snatching the parchment from Fulgur’s hand.
“There was more wool to sell than we initially thought,” Fulgur responded snarkily. His hand was still outstretched to receive back the paper from the man.
“Don’t get smart with me. Get going. Otherwise the night wolves will find you and your wench.” He laughed, and two other guards opened up the gates a bit more. It was enough for the carriage to pass through.
Fulgur led the horse to continue, ignoring the guard’s blatant disrespect. Their ride home was warily silent. Not like when they came. They feared words would possibly attract unwanted attention. While the path was dark, Fulgur knew it like the back of his hand. He needed not to light a torch to see his way. Yet, he wondered if he still should. If his companion trusted him enough to allow them to ride in the night.
“Uki- are you alright?” He whispered to the trembling body clutching onto his arm.
“I’m sorry…” Uki whimpered. “I’m sorry, we were almost caught because of my selfishness.”
At first, Fulgur didn’t know what to say. While he had been worried, there was no anger towards his actions. When he watched Uki gently handling the boy the coins, the last thing he felt was anger. The only thought crossing his mind was,
his bleeding heart is what I admire most.
“You don’t have to apologize. I envy such kind and courageous actions.” He replied.
“More like stupid.”
“I wouldn’t say so. What you did was a sort of kindness I ain’t seen since my friend back then.”
“You mean-…” Uki looked up, though he couldn’t exactly see the details of Fulgur’s face, he could still sense the fond smile that adorned it.
“Yeah, like him.” Fulgur only wished he could have that same courage.
The closer they got to the cottage, the more relieved Fulgur felt, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was strange to feel such a way especially when he’d taken that same path over and over before alone. Never had he ever felt scared when it was just him. Now that he had Uki with him, he felt more terrified than ever.
“We’re almost there.” He stated, hoping to reassure Uki who seemed to still worry next to him.
Moments later, there was the smell of smoke and the feeling of hot air warming his back. Fulgur turned his head around once he noticed the ground illuminated by a crimson light.
“Fuck!” He cursed, whipping the horse once more to quicken the pace.
What Uki saw beyond the silhouettes of the trees were the puffs of smoke that fogged up the sky, and covered the stars. A fire, a large one.
“Fulgur?”
“I didn’t want you seeing that.” He grunted, setting his sights on the warm lights of the cottage that began appearing as the forest revealed plains.
“Fulgur, what’s happening?”
Fulgur replied through gritted teeth. “A burning, they’re burning more innocents.”
The next few days were sombre, quiet, and calm. The smoke had cleared by morning, but the smell of embers lingered in the air. They both stayed inside the next day, opting to sleep in and do whatever in the comfort of their home. Fulgur had responsibilities he needed to take care of, so he was the first to emerge from those doors.
Uki preferred staying inside with the cats. So he did. He cuddled up with the cats on the bed, or playing with them at the dinner table. As day and night came and went, the two found themselves in a nice routine. They moved around each other in the kitchenette, almost like swans in a lake. Their domesticity was a nice addition.
“Fufu-chan?”
Fulgur’s head jerked up from the needlework in his hands. “Sorry?” He said, staring at a flushed and embarrassed Uki standing by the stairs.
“Millie called you Fu-chan. I just wanted to know if-… you know what, never mind what I said!” Uki turned his body quickly to rush upstairs but stopped once he heard Fulgur’s laugh.
“You’re free to call me whatever you’d like, Uki.” He said, smiling happily at the new nickname.
That house was no longer Fulgur’s, as he deemed it before. It was the property of Fufu-chan, and his roommate Uki, alongside their many animal companions. For the first time, Fulgur found himself excited to return home. That once cold air in his lonely cottage now held a warmth that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“Fufu-chan? I never asked before but where do you sleep?” Uki inquired, mainly because in his almost four months of living there, he’d only ever seen the one bedroom, which he occupied now.
“The hay pile next to the horse is pretty comfy,” Fulgur responded, digging into his plate of mushy bland potatoes. His bite was interrupted by a bang on the table, and the clattering of the dishes.
“Excuse me!? Don’t tell me you gave me the only bedroom in this place!” Uki screamed, angrily staring at the very confused, and slightly hungry Fulgur.
“You’re the guest, I couldn’t kick you out to sleep somewhere uncomfortable.” He explained, shoving the spoon of mush into his mouth.
That sentence was the worst thing he could have said in that situation, because for the next hour, Uki reprimanded him for his actions, even for a hospitable gesture. It was stupid to have been sleeping outside for the last four months since he’d been there. Uki declared that instant, that he must sleep in bed that night.
Which is how they managed to get into the following situation. A very flustered Uki lying on one side of the bed, and a Fulgur standing next to the other side, feeling embarrassed to get in.
“I can still sleep outside. Seriously, it isn’t uncomfortable at all.” Fulgur offered.
“Absolutely not, and with it becoming autumn, are you still going to sleep outside?”
Fulgur sighed, pulling up the blanket, and tucking himself into the bed. The bed itself was large, but the space between Fulgur and Uki was the length of a matchbox. They could hear each other’s breaths and the idea of how close they were only made it harder for them to fall asleep.
“Uki?”
“Yes?” Uki answered.
“I’m really glad that you’re here.” There was shuffling behind Uki as he had been facing away from the other. “I just want you to know that.”
Uki’s heart clenched at the statement. He turned himself to face Fulgur, who had his messy white locks stuffed across the pillow, a fond but meaningful gaze set on the shorter male. They stared into each other's eyes for a while, just lying there.
“I’m happy to be here too.” Uki finally responded. His hand came up to place a gentle touch on Fulgur’s.
That was how they slept that night, hand in hand, next to one another as if the world had stopped and the only beings were each other.
Morning came too early, and neither wished to be the first to break the magical moment. In the end, Fulgur had to be the one to get up first, but not without allowing his hand to graze the soft pale skin of Uki’s gentle sleeping face. He pushed back strands of purple hair behind his ears before getting up to begin his day. This act was caught by a very much awake Uki, who’d been pretending to sleep the entire time, just hoping to keep that feeling of comfort between them a little longer. Though he wasn’t going to complain about Fulgur leaving, at least not after the way his cheeks warmed into a pink blush once the door had been shut. His hand, which had been holding onto the rough calloused palms of the other male now gently rubbed against his cheek where Fulgur had touched.
He wanted more of that touch.
Millie occasionally left her humble abode to visit the two, often with gifts of new clothes she made for the two of them, but mostly for Uki. On her visits, she had surprisingly brought books for the siren as well. Books of medicine, and herbal remedies that Uki was fascinated by, eagerly reading whatever he could from those books before she had to head home.
He was grateful for the knowledge, but it left him with unanswered questions once he began connecting the dots.
“Millie. She knows a lot about medicine and herbs for a fabric shop owner.” Uki said, continuing to finely chop up the basil leaves he’d been planning to use for dinner’s stew.
Fulgur, who stood next to him, aiding him with adding the beef into the pot, hummed in response.
“And for her to own those books. Books about potions. Especially when you said were banned from the town.”
“What are you saying, Uki?” Perhaps Fulgur knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Uki himself.
“I ask this as a friend and truly mean no harm. Is she-?” He feared finishing the sentence would cause someone unpleasant to hear.
“She came here for salvation and shelter, but that doesn’t mean she’d simply leave her past.” Fulgur stirred the pot.
Uki’s lips were pressed together firmly, “You know the dangers though, about keeping something like this a secret. If the town finds out, what do you think they’ll do to her?”
Fulgur was silent, pondering, and rightfully so. It was a real danger, not just for Millie, but for them as well to be keeping such a large secret. A witch living among witch hunters who burned their kind at the stake. Such a secret could very well lead to their deaths.
“I’ll make sure that never happens.” His hands stopped mixing the pot, and Uki placed down his knife in exchange for taking Fulgur’s hand in his own.
“I know that you will,” Uki says, in an unwavering voice that only signified his trust in the shepherd.
It was getting far too late. The sunset was introducing the reappearance of a full moon, and Uki had to observe the sight alone. He felt the worry sizzling on the surface of his skin. It wasn’t like anything was wrong. At least, nothing showed that anything was wrong
The morning began routinely, like any other. Fulgur got up early to tend to the sheep, and Uki stayed in bed in the meantime. By afternoon, Uki had gotten up to find Fulgur packing his bags to head off to the town to purchase some more groceries. It had been getting cold out recently and heading down to the town later on would prove to be a difficult endeavour. While Uki bid farewell to him by the door, he could see his breath mist in the chilly air. Worried, he bundled Fulgur up as much as he could with multiple layers of clothing in hopes that it would keep him warm. Fulgur, who found the act to be incredibly kind, told Uki that he needn’t worry so much. Nevertheless, Fulgur still walked out those doors more warmly than if he had stayed inside.
Now the chill in the air became more like a sharp stabbing of needles to the lungs. A journey to buy food shouldn’t have taken him as long as it did. Uki wanted so badly to head out there himself to check, but he didn’t know the path like Fulgur did. He knew that the moment he stepped out there alone, he likely wouldn’t find his way back.
Disgruntled by the situation, there wasn’t much he could do to distract himself. The cats were taking naps in the bedroom, and he didn’t want to wake them. Dinner couldn’t be prepared without Fulgur coming back with some of the ingredients. He was stuck.
As he looked around the cottage, he started noting down the differences from when he first came. Thick curtains now hung on each window, the colour of Fulgur’s hair as he liked to put it. It helped shield away the cold chill that still came through the cracks of the cottage. It was something Uki had complained about once, and the next day found the windows covered by them. When questioned, Fulgur denied that there weren’t curtains in the first place, though the scraps of thick gray fabric in the corner of the room said otherwise. The kitchen now had two of each utensil. A permanent fixture that had appeared the week of his arrival. Two plates, two bowls, two cups, two of it all. The only thing that didn’t change was the bedroom. The bedsheets smelt of oak and lilacs. The one blanket that had been used between the two was ruffled on the straw mattress. There had always been two pillows, but now both were being used instead of one.
The walls were still barren, and Uki wondered if they could perhaps hang some sort of decoration. Something he could make from pines and bark. At the very least it would fill up the space. Uki kept on pondering until he heard a loud and very strong knock at the door. At first, his reaction was happiness at the idea that Fulgur had finally returned, but he realized that if he truly had returned, there would be no need to knock, and nor would he need to do so that loudly. The knocking soon became banging as a voice screamed from behind the door.
“Uki!”
Millie, it was for sure Millie’s voice. Her voice had a concerned tone, which didn’t do well to ease the anxiousness Uki was already feeling. He walked over to the door, swinging it open.
That was when he knew something was wrong. Millie’s face held blotches of blood, and scabs that seemed to be inflicted by a sharp object. She stared at Uki, with eyes of worry and fury. Oh, how he wished he were blind.
“Millie?”
“Uki, we have to go!” She shouted, grabbing his hands and immediately rushing him out of the house in the cold weather with only a thin layer of clothes on.
“Millie, what’s going on?” He asked. Already the fear was starting to build as he tried to maintain the same running pace as the other.
“The day patrol found my books. He took the blame!” She sobbed at that last word. Her voice was cracking as she explained, but her panting breath could only allow her so many words.
Uki didn’t need to hear more, however. That was enough to set him spiralling. He ran forward with a speed he hadn't known he was capable of, letting go of Millie’s hand.
Am I going the right way?
He thought, but at that point, he could already see it. The cheers and riots of people ahead, and the glow of a burning flame casting an orange light in the sky. Millie said something behind him, but he didn’t hear anything except the words Fulgur used to say goodbye that afternoon. His ears were blind to the crunching of dry leaves, and the scent of burning wood. Though there was a passing plea in the back of his mind for that wood not to be oak.
The gates became larger as he grew closer, and more men guarded the doors than the last time he was there. Their armoured bodies carried long sharp spears, rusted around the tips but still looking just as deadly. Uki tried to sprint past them and through the gates, a wishful thought he could only dream of. He was caught by two large arms that pulled him back from the open gate. He struggled against their grip, screaming to be allowed through.
“You’re the bitch that’s been sleeping with the witch.” One of the guards said, pulling on one of his arms and twisting it against Uki’s back. “Here to save him, aren’t ya?” He laughed mockingly.
Another guard walked up, his gloved hand tugging harshly on Uki’s hair to make him face them. “Too bad you’re a little too late, but since I’m nice I’ll let ya watch.” He laughed, dragging him past the gates. Uki’s feet tried to find his footing, but with how quickly the guards were dragging him away, they slipped against the moving ground. His knees scratched against the gravel ground leaving behind a bloody trail.
Fulgur didn’t regret his decision. When he’d arrived at his friend’s shop, he saw the door pried open. Its hinges were almost falling off. He didn’t regret running in and resorting to talking with his fists. When the scene cleared, what he saw was a friend whose body curled into herself in the corner of the shop. She was faced with a fear he recognized so immediately. There wasn’t even a hesitating thought at that moment. The feeling of aggressive action spread through his heart and injected into his brain.
Fulgur didn’t know how to fight, he was a shepherd for a reason. His father worked in the mines and told him to be wary of the future he chose, having seen death in the war, and corruption within the army.
Lie low,
he said.
Lower your gaze from those with power,
he said.
They seek the pleasure of beating the defiance out of you,
he said. Fulgur heeded those words for years. Over thirty years of his life was spent with his head hung low, and mouth sealed with the tar of fear that oozed out of the dead bodies of the innocent burned alive.
Millie’s face was the same as the young girl who eyes bore the terrified expression, which had been burnt permanently onto her face.. That same girl had been tied to the oak wooden pillar with flames crawling up its sides. That same face of fear, that brought nightmares at night. His sleep was riddled with anxiety that only further grew with every smoke cloud seen from the distance of his home. Anger was not the way he felt. He felt guilty, he felt regret, and anger was not the word he could have used because who was he angry with? The guards? They were only a part of a system of people whose sole purpose was to exact their power over others. They were born into this, taught this, and this was all they knew. How could he blame someone for doing exactly the thing they were set out for? The future was decided for them. Yet he was the same. His future was decided for him too. Fulgur was a shepherd; he had a cottage on the outskirts of town. He tended to his sheep in the deep woods near patches of farms. He spent his days surviving because that was what he was born to do. However, for once he didn’t want to just survive. Not if that meant losing someone else in the process. In that moment, those feelings of guilt and regret, bubbled to the surface… That is what made him want to live.
“Confess your sins, witch, to all these people, so they know exactly the evil you have befallen in our town.” This was a priest, supposed to be a kind and holy creature. Fulgur knew him and had seen the man walking around town with his head held high. A cross was always around his neck. Now that cross was being shoved into his face. That same priest who seemed so nice was now staring at Fulgur like filth. “Speak!” He demanded.
“I-…I am-…” his voice stammered. Someone had stepped their boot on his throat earlier when he was thrown into the cell. A purple bruise covered a large portion of his neck. “I am the witch you all have been seeking.” He confessed, his voice a near whisper.
“Again.”
“I am the witch.”
“Louder, sinner!”
“I’m the witch!” Fulgur screamed. His voice was weak and cracked. “I’m the witch you all have been hunting for.” Fulgur kneeled on the ground, with bloody splotches all over the front of his body. Those were from simply the common folk poking him with sharp objects when he was dragged down the street in chains. Other splotches were from the beating he’d received when they finally arrived at the town centre. He was forced to be a spectacle for the people as his face was reformed by those who vowed to protect.
“He, who deceived us all! Posing as a kind shepherd, hiding behind the mask whilst he raised the devil’s hand on our lives!” The priest screamed, his hands lifted to clutch his cross necklace as if he were silently praying.
“Kill him!”
“Burn the witch!”
“What sort of devil’s magic has he cast on us?”
These words were a repeated mantra throughout the crowd of people. It all slowly slowly blended into a single phrase: “Burn him.”
“Sinner, speak. If you tell of who else has accompanied you in your actions, perhaps God will pity you.” The priest shouts. “That blonde wench perhaps-”
Fulgur interrupted him immediately when he mentioned his friends. “I am alone! I’ve been the one to do it all! Those very accusations y'all have made against those people. Yer people! It has all been me.” Fulgur at that moment, looked up at the shocked faces of everyone around him. The realization of their actions now rained down on them. “You killed innocent people because ya’ll were too stupid to realize it was me!”
“He’s killed our families!”
“He killed all those people!”
“Burn him!” Then there came the chant. Over and over the crowd demanded to see his demise, and as the priest whispered prayers into the cross into the cross he held up. He turned his head to one of the knights, nodding his head with a gaze so cold, one could feel chills climb their spine.
The knight nodded back and lifted his hands towards his comrades. Fulgur was pulled up by two men who unlocked the chained cuffs on his wrists. They spread his arms outwards onto a wooden cross pillar. Fulgur could barely see what was happening through his swollen eyes, but he could infer once the shearing pain of rusted metal stabbed through his palms on both ends. He let out a low screech, his body trembling from the pain, but that only caused the thick nails to dig deeper through his palms.
“Bring your firewood, and throw it around him! This fire must burn so large that even his soul will shrivel into ash!” The priest screamed. All words were deafened by the sharp pain throughout Fulgur’s body.
“Do not let this man know a moment of peace for the sins he committed!”
Uki had been forced to his knees once they reached the gates. His head was aching from the way the guard had been pulling on his hair. His breaths were heavy, and his ears rang with a numbing sound. It didn’t take long for other noise to overtake it though, as the screams of the people around him were incredibly loud. Their anguish and anger seeped through their voices.
Uki lifted his weary head, his eyes blurring slightly before adjusting towards what he could feel was the scorching heat of a fire so large, that was all he could set his eyes on.
“Fulgur…” He whispered. “Fulgur!” His voice screeched through the whipping of flames.
There the man was, his body hanging from the cross pillar, arms outstretched and pierced through with nails that kept him from falling. His face was purple and swollen. Blood stained his cheeks, and a trail of blood leaked down the middle of his chin from his mouth, and more of it stained his cheeks. The fire had already nearly caught up to Fulgur’s dangling legs. It was only a few inches away from his bare bloodied feet.
“Stop! He’s innocent!” Uki screamed, but his words were drowned out by those around him. They threw more wood into the fire, screaming “Burn him!” Uki kept trying to be heard nonetheless.
“He isn’t a witch! Let him go!” Uki’s eyes glossed over with a cover of tears. His whimpering voice only grew quieter and quieter as he spoke. The feeling of dread now turned into hopelessness. He stopped talking once the fire had just reached the bottom soles of Fulgur’s feet.
Now feeling the pain, Fulgur's body thrashed against the pillar, trying to free himself, but to no avail. He looked out at the crowd, a mindless saddened stare at the people he helped over the years. The baker who he often traded wool with for bread, now aiding in throwing more wood into the pile. The kind Mrs. Tabitha who due to her old age often needed assistance carrying her baskets of groceries to the orphanage she worked at. Who now held the children that loved him so, crying in her arms. They turned their backs on him.
The heat seized his skin. It hurt so badly at first, but once he set his eyes on the beautiful siren kneeling in front of him, all that pain disappeared. All that pain disappeared. Their eyes locked, though Fulgur could only make out the purple hue of Uki’s hair. With one last smile on his face, his mouth muttered words that he’d always wanted to say.
Uki could just barely tell Fulgur was talking. Occasionally covered by the spark of flames and the smoke lifting into the sky, but he managed to catch the few words that Fulgur spoke.
“I was brave.”