Kerloor
Another story I wrote, this one for a school magazine thingy. Took a lot longer than Luuraa, which at the moment is the one I'm comparing it to, but that might be because it is much longer ;D It's not as good as Luuraa though so it wasn't as fun and exciting to write. By the way if at the end it seems more like a beginning, that's because I'm going to keep going and make a novel out of it.
“Come, we can’t give up now,” Kerloor called down the slope. “Not after coming so far.”
“You’re not the one with snow in his boots,” his friend Zookee called back from below.
Kerloor jumped down to a lower ledge. “Here, I’ll help you up.” He stretched out his gloved hand, and Zookee grasped it and pulled himself up.
Kerloor shielded his eyes from the sun with one hand and surveyed the landscape ahead of them. Snowy peaks and ridges filled his vision. “Look.” He pointed, his warm, padded glove making his finger seem short and stubby. “In that valley.” A faint wispy trail of smoke rose into the sky. “There’s sure to be a warm village, or at least a sheltered camp spot.”
Zookee squinted, following Kerloor’s finger. “Or another poor traveler’s fire, made from his last faggot for some small warmth before perishing in these accursed mountains,” he said sourly.
“Very poetic,” Kerloor said. “Try to think nicer thoughts. They may take your mind off the cold.”
“I tried that,” Zookee said. “I thought of a nice, warm inn, but it reminded me of how cold I am. Then I thought of a serving girl in that inn, and it reminded me of how lonely I am out here with only you for company.”
Kerloor laughed. “I sometimes feel the same way: only me for company, with you lagging far behind.” He grinned at his friend, who glared at him. “Besides, I’m sure that serving girl wouldn’t come out here anyway. Now let’s go. We won’t know what’s in that valley if we don’t reach it.”
“I wouldn’t come out here either,” Zookee muttered, but he followed Kerloor.
Watching them from a high ledge, the shapeshifter Meridlera lurked, unaffected by the cold. Shifting to virmern, a small, mountain-dwelling winter bird, Meridlera flew ahead and lighted on the path the two would soon come along. It has been so long, the shifter thought, almost salivating with anticipation. Meridlera shifted again.
Kerloor stopped for a moment, and Zookee was happy to brush the snow off a rock and take a rest. Hiking through snow was harder than it would seem. Kerloor pushed back his fur-lined hood and let the icy wind blow through his long brown hair.
“Show-off,” Zookee said from his rock.
“I was too warm,” Kerloor replied. He pulled his hair back in a ponytail so it would not get in his way, and put his hood back up.
“I don’t see how you can be warm in this weather,” Zookee said.
“Some parts,” Kerloor explained. “My face is too numb to feel the cold anymore, but under my hood is too hot. Let’s go.”
He started again toward the valley and Zookee picked up his pack and followed. Any path that might have been in those mountains was long since covered with deep snow. The two had to step carefully, for the snow concealed rocks and holes that could twist the ankle or break the leg. An injury in these conditions could be fatal.
They traveled along a ledge with a cliff wall to their right. Kerloor turned a corner, and stopped. Zookee looked at him curiously.
Someone stood ahead of them, wearing a fur-lined coat similar to theirs. The stranger saw them and beckoned them to come.
“So should we go?” Zookee asked. He too had seen the gesture.
“Sure,” Kerloor said. “He probably needs help or something.” They climbed over to the stranger.
“Whoa, she’s a girl,” Zookee said when they were close enough to see. It was true. She had rosy cheeks, red lips, and a few strands of golden hair over her eyes. She smiled at them.
“I saw you out here,” she called to them in a crystal voice. “The night can be pretty cold out here. I found a cave that we can share.” Zookee’s speed increased until he was going faster than Kerloor.
“He’s ahead for a change,” Kerloor said to himself, grinning. “Careful, Zookee. Don’t slip,” he called, and wondered why a look of apprehension had crossed the girl’s face before he added the second part.
The girl waited for Kerloor to reach her ledge. When he arrived she and Zookee were already conversing.
“This is Shaleree,” Zookee said. “Meet Kerloor.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Kerloor said. Shaleree smiled. “So, you’re offering to let us stay in your cave?”
“Actually, only you,” she said. “He can sleep outside.” She indicated Zookee. “Call me Shal.”
Kerloor looked sympathetically at his friend. Zookee’s expression was a mixture of shock, anger, and indignation.
“I’m sorry,” Kerloor told Shal, “but we stick together. Either you include Zookee or we’ll have to find shelter somewhere else.”
Shal was plainly irritated, but she said, “Fine, you can both stay.” She started down a path, and they followed.
Strange, Kerloor thought. Why does she want me to share her cave so much? And if she’s been along this way before, why are her footprints not in the snow? He shrugged to himself. Maybe the wind just blew the snow over them.
Shal stopped. Kerloor looked around her, and sure enough there was a dark opening, big enough for a person to crouch in, into a cave in the mountain.
“Well, go in,” she said. Zookee went first, getting out of the chilling wind as quickly as he could. Kerloor waited to let Shal in first but she motioned him to go ahead.
Inside, the cave could easily fit three people lying down with room for a fire in the middle, but not much more.
Shal came in last. “I have a little wood for a fire but only food for me,” she said. A malicious smile flashed across her face so quickly that Kerloor almost missed it. “You have food, right?”
“Enough for us, and a little wood,” Kerloor replied.
“Good.” Shal did something with her pack.
Zookee sat forlornly in a corner. He was only in there because of Kerloor. His friend thought of saying something to him, but figured it probably would not help.
“Should we make the fire?” Kerloor suggested. He began arranging the wood in the center of the cave. Strangely, Shal looked panicked but then relaxed and rested her head on his shoulder as he worked. He leaned away, uncomfortable. Zookee glowered.
Kerloor had to push Shal away to get his tinderbox from his pack, but she returned quickly. The wood caught flame surprisingly quickly, and soon the fire was blazing.
Shal shrank away from the flames, pressing closer to Kerloor. Zookee went outside, disgusted. He must be really upset, Kerloor thought. Why am I letting her do this? He pushed her away and held her back. “What do you want from me?” he demanded.
“I want you!” Her face contorted and changed. He noticed one of her fingers was black. A shapeshifter! Shapeshifters could become almost anything, but anything besides their true form had a slight flaw that gave them away.
Shal shifted to its real form, a hideous spindly black troll. Its mouth opened to reveal hundreds of sharp grey teeth.
Kerloor tried to kick it away, grabbing a burning branch from the fire and waving it at the troll. So that’s why she was afraid of the fire! Trolls are very weak to fire! He threw the branch at the troll and scrambled out of the cave.
“Zookee, run! A shapeshifter!” He grabbed his friend’s arm and pulled him forward. The shapeshifter chased after them, seemingly unaffected by the cold.
“But what about our packs?” Zookee protested.
“Forget them! Do you want to go back to face that?” They ran along, lightly so bumps and pits hidden by the snow would not do as much damage.
“This way!” Kerloor pulled his friend off the path onto the steep downward slope to their left. They couldn’t keep their feet, so they slid wildly down the snowy slide. The shapeshifter stood at the top, snarling at them.
At the bottom the wind had blown the snow into a large heap. Kerloor and Zookee slid toward it. They tried desperately to stop, but the ground was too slippery. They slid down the slope and launched off the snow pile, flying through the air. The ground dropped abruptly after the mound.
The chilling wind swept up snow in a blinding swirl, and they were falling through endless white. The ground met them, and the white faded to black.
Kerloor woke up sweating. Where am I? he wondered. Wherever it was, it was dark and very warm. Not completely dark, actually; there was a slight reddish glow. Where is Zookee? He moved his hand along the ground around him, and in extending his arm he pushed away the blanket covering him.
Startled, Kerloor took in his surroundings. He was lying on earth, covered by what seemed to be a wool blanket, near a large fire. It was night, so he could not see much farther than what the fire illuminated. An expressionless man he did not know squatted on the far side of the fire.
He tried to get up, but the man moved to his side with surprising speed and gently held him down. “Do not try to move yet,” the man said. “Rest.”
“Let me try,” Kerloor protested. The man let him, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows. That was as far as he could get. His whole body was sore; it felt like one massive bruise. He let himself fall back down.
“You are at least better off than your companion,” the man said, rising to his feet. “One of his legs is broken. I had to use firewood to make a splint.”
“Zookee? Where is he?” Kerloor’s eyes searched the ground near the fire. He spotted another blanket with his friend’s head sticking out of it, and he sighed with relief.
“There is a village not far away, only a day’s travel in this weather,” the man remarked. “Your friend could get better help there.”
“But how would we get there with Zookee’s leg broken?” asked Kerloor.
“I will carry him,” the man said. “We will have to stay here until you can move, though. I cannot carry both of you.”
“Who are you? Why are you helping us?” Kerloor asked curiously.
“I am called Denoover Meroo,” the man replied. “My honor would not allow me to leave you in these mountains to freeze.”
“Then we are indebted to you for saving us,” Kerloor said.
“You have no debt to me,” Denoover Meroo responded. “As I said, I was compelled by honor.” He returned to his original place by the fire.
He is cold, Kerloor thought. Maybe he is not comfortable with people.
A few hours passed in silence. Kerloor tried to sleep, but he wasn’t tired and was too sore to get comfortable. Denoover Meroo was close by gathering wood for the fire-at least, what he could find under the snow. Zookee had stirred several times but had not yet woken.
Kerloor sighed, and winced from the pain of just moving. At least he had a chance to rest. He had been running from danger and trouble most of his life, it seemed. Maybe I should face them, he thought. But I do not want to die…
Most of the trouble has been from shapeshifters. They were not the sort of trouble one could face down without risking one’s health. Is it better to fight at the risk of death, or run when one can? Kerloor pondered. It doesn’t make sense to fight if one didn’t need to. Besides, there are too many shapeshifters that I would have to defeat. It would be pointless to fight only to save myself.
It was not that he was a coward. Running because of fear would be cowardice. I am not afraid of danger, Kerloor concluded. Then what was he afraid of? Kerloor frowned. At least his eyebrows were not bruised. I will fight if I must.
Denoover Meroo returned and placed more wood on the fire. “Are you well?” he asked.
Kerloor started to nod, but decided it would hurt too much. “Yes, I’m getting better,” he said instead. It was somewhat true: he could move a bit more without pain.
“Yes, your hurts are not serious,” the man said. “I judge that we may be able to leave tomorrow.”
I wonder what he would consider a serious hurt, Kerloor though wryly, trying to move and grimacing. “Certainly not today,” he said.
Kerloor woke up the next morning, surprised to find he had slept soundly. Denoover Meroo had kept watch, for the camp seemed peaceful and in order. His bruises hurt more than they had the day before, but it seemed that he could move more without pain, and the pain seemed less prominent and actually somewhat… invigorating. Kerloor tried to rise, and actually managed to get into a sitting position.
“You are better?” Denoover Meroo inquired, returning from a firewood forage.
“Somewhat,” Kerloor replied. “I can’t move much farther than this though.”
“Hopefully you will recover enough that we can leave today,” Denoover Meroo said. “We should not stay in this place too long.”
Kerloor nodded. “Has Zookee woken yet?” he asked.
“No, not that I have noticed.” A frown flashed across the man’s face and disappeared as quickly into lack of expression. “The Healer at the village should be able to help. I do not know why he has not woken.”
He should be better by now, Kerloor thought. Zookee is too strong to die from a broken leg.
Later that day, Kerloor tried to move again. He sat up, and pushed himself up to his feet. The pain from his bruises flowed through his body, but he ignored it. I must be able to move for us to reach the village, he thought. I must do this for Zookee!
He stood upright, somewhat unsteadily; it hurt just to keep his balance. He took a few steps, trying to ignore the pain.
“Walk around,” Denoover Meroo said, watching from his seat by the fire. “See if you can manage a long walk, and get used to walking.”
Kerloor nodded, starting to walk around the camp a few times. He managed the activity eventually, not giving up until he could make the trip without trouble.
“Very good,” Denoover Meroo commented. “We will leave today.”
“I guess we don’t have much to pack,” Kerloor remarked. “Zookee and I left our packs back in that shapeshifter’s cave.”
Denoover Meroo looked surprised for a moment, and then nodded. “All there is to carry is Zookee and the blankets. Could you carry the latter?”
Kerloor nodded. “They’ll keep me warm,” he said, smiling.
“Are you ready to leave now?” the man asked.
“Yes,” Kerloor said resolutely.
“You must be sure, for if you cannot then we must wait. I cannot carry both of you.”
“I’m ready.” Kerloor was not entirely sure he would not collapse on the way, but he had to try for Zookee.
“Then we go.” Denoover Meroo gently lifted Zookee, being careful with his leg. Kerloor took up the blankets.
“Shouldn’t we put out the fire?” he asked.
“Throw snow on it if you wish,” the man replied. “If we leave it, it might help some other traveler. It cannot get much bigger with nothing but snow for fuel.”
Kerloor nodded, understanding. They set off.
At first walking was painful, but Kerloor was full of energy. He kept up with Denoover Meroo, who was moving quickly in spite of his burden. Eventually, though, Kerloor’s energy was used up in just continuing against the pain. Kerloor found himself lagging behind.
He tried releasing his thoughts, floating in a half-stupor, letting the pain flow past him instead of trying to push against it. He kept this up for a while, just accepting the pain, until Denoover Meroo stopped.
“Why did you stop?” Kerloor asked.
“To rest,” Denoover Meroo replied.
“Oh,” said Kerloor, surprised. He would not have expected the man to need rest. Maybe his pace was too fast, Kerloor reasoned.
They started again after a bit. Surprisingly, the short rest seemed to have helped, for walking was no longer a battle against bruises for Kerloor. He easily kept up with Denoover Meroo and they reached the village much quicker than the man had expected. Still, darkness was beginning to fall when they set foot on the village ground.
It was a small community tucked away in the mountains, isolated from the outside except for the occasional traveling merchant. Kerloor tried not to think; it reminded him too much of home.
Denoover Meroo led him through the village to the Healer’s hut. Villagers stared at them, unused to strangers. No one stopped them though, only avoided.
They reached the hut, and Denoover Meroo knocked on the wooden door. After a bit, a woman’s voice called out, “Who is there?”
“My name is Denoover Meroo,” the man replied. “Are you up? I have an injured boy.”
A slot opened in the door and two eyes peered out. Then the slot closed, they heard the sound of a bolt being lifted, and the door opened. An attractive young woman in a brown wool dress stood in the doorway. Kerloor was surprised. He had expected an old, gnarled woman, but she could not be more than seven years his elder.
“I didn’t think I recognized your voice,” she said. “Come in; I’ll tend to your boy right away.” She gave Kerloor a smile as from adult to child and led them inside.
Kerloor sat and watched as the Healer tended to Zookee. First she examined him, checking his eyes and pulse and leg.
“I believe there might be more wrong than a broken leg,” Denoover Meroo commented. “He has not woken for two days.”
“A good thing you brought him so quickly,” the Healer, whose name was Maralen, said. “You made a nice splint, but you forgot to set the bone. If you had waited much longer, I would’ve had to break it again so it would not heal wrong. Now come over here and hold him while I set the bone,” Maralen ordered. Denoover Meroo did so. Kerloor left, not being much help and not wanting to see his friend’s treatment so much anymore.
He strolled through the village instead, trying to familiarize himself with it since with Zookee’s condition they might be staying there a while. He recognized some of the buildings-the smith’s stone forge, with barrels of water for quenching out front and thick smoke rising from the chimney; and the butcher’s, with meat hanging out in front for show and seasoning-knowing what they looked like from his memories of home.
The sky was darkening, and Kerloor figured Maralen must have finished with Zookee by now, so he turned back toward the Healer’s hut.
A group of boys, some Kerloor’s age and some a few years older or younger, followed him, gradually closing the distance. Kerloor noticed them, but tried to ignore them while increasing his pace. They sped up as well, eventually catching up and forming a circle around him, forcing him to stop. He tried to push past, but they held him in the center.
The biggest boy of the group, a head taller than Kerloor, stepped forward. Kerloor looked him in the eyes defiantly.
“We don’t want strangers causing trouble in our village,” the boy announced.
“I’m glad,” Kerloor said reasonably. “I don’t wish to cause trouble.”
“We don’t want you here, stranger,” the leader said threateningly.
“I’m sorry,” Kerloor said, trying to keep coldness from his voice. “I must stay here until my friend is well.”
“This village isn’t big enough for you,” the boy growled, thrusting his fist at Kerloor’s face.
Kerloor ducked and dashed past, out of the circle. He ran, ran from the boys, from violence, from foolish fighting. The group did not chase him, but stood shouting taunts, calling him coward and weakling.
Fools, Kerloor thought. I have no reason to fight. They have no reason. They are weak for not having control of their violence.
He reached Maralen’s hut breathing heavily, and bumped into Denoover Meroo who was coming out. The man caught his arm.
“From what are you running?” He asked.
“A group of village boys wants us to leave,” Kerloor replied. “They attacked me.”
“You are afraid of them?”
Kerloor shook his head. “No, I’m not. I just don’t want to be seen as having encouraged a fight at all.”
“Sometimes a person will respect you only if you defeat him,” Denoover Meroo said.
“I don’t want to fight for something so foolish.”
Denoover Meroo nodded and turned to go.
“Wait, how is Zookee?” Kerloor called.
“Go in and see,” the man replied. “Maralen is a remarkable Healer.”
Kerloor went inside, eager to see what the man had meant. He found his friend sitting up on the bed drinking water, his leg in a splint. “Zookee! How are you?” He cried happily. His friend looked up and smiled.
“He will be fine,” Maralen answered for him. “He had a high fever, but my herbs dispelled it. Now only his leg must heal.”
“Thank you so much for helping him!” Kerloor exclaimed joyfully.
The Healer waved it away, smiling. “It was nothing. Say, you are strong boys. If you are not going anywhere soon, how would you like to stay here and be my assistants? I have been looking for someone to help me, and the other village boys are too unruly.”
Kerloor’s heart leapt at the offer. A home! He looked at Zookee.
His friend appeared to be considering the offer. Kerloor wondered what he was thinking. What is there to think about? He thought. She is offering us a home! We have nowhere else to go!
Zookee’s thoughts seemed to follow this path as well, for he nodded finally.
“We would be glad to stay and be your assistants,” Kerloor replied eagerly.
“Wonderful. Now, I have no extra rooms, so your first task is to set up a place to sleep,” Maralen said.
Kerloor set to it right away, and Zookee followed on wooden crutches. Finally they had found a home.