10His breathing was harsh and ragged as he woke up in a cold sweat. What was that dream? He asked himself. He jogged his memory and then shrugged it aside. Swiftly getting up he realized that he was not in his home, nothing was familiar. But then, looking again at the huge bed whose sheets were crumpled on the floor he remembered the day before. Of course, the house. he drifted off, remembering the flames, the heat of it all. So much passion in such a small amount of time, the beast was capable of so much more. Why did he waste it on us? The question burned in his mind as he walked downstairs. The stairway led to a small dining room where breakfast was set out and people were chattering away as if the village's last night had not affected any of them. The whole town was there sitting at that old inn table, chatting, talking, laughing, trying not to remember the day before. The inn was the only thing not touched by the beast, a relic of their now long lost past.
"Sitka!" A familiar voice startled the young man and he jumped. The table laughed nervously. He was the only person who lost a loved one to the flames. Whispers spread throughout the table, excited and unashamed of the pain they were causing.
"It was a curse on your family Sitka! To lose your father, may his soul rest in peace." It was Eldine, the blacksmith's daughter. Knowing the recognition of a curse meant goodwill to him he smiled, but it never reached his eyes. Long dead was his mother and sisters. Jade, his brother, had run off, probably eaten by wolves. The thoughts did not pain him. The last day had left him numb and his usual cheery self had been lost for a moment in the ashes.
"Thank you." He muttered to himself. No one was looking now, that would have been impolite. Suddenly, everyone was very involved with breakfast and a nervous conversation started. To give them relief from their anxiety, Sitka paced to the door, stopping to tell the innkeeper he was going for a walk.
Outside was cheery. The birds were singing, the leaves of the trees swaying gently in a brisk, sharp breeze. Sitka pulled his tunic closer around him. He cursed the bright blue sky, the birds, the trees. Didn't they know this was a day for mourning? Angry with his outside neighbors he stalked to the stable hoping for a ride out of the village that was no more. But instead he found Mitt and Oliver, the innkeeper's horses, along with the village's many other horses who had been rescued from the stables in the fire. One of them had been his father's, Risky. The Stallion was the prize of their home and his father swore he'd never sell it. But Sitka didn't have much choice, being an orphan with no money. Silently he patted the horse and talked to it. She was obviously spooked enough from the fire that the last thing it needed was a human hand. But Sitka didn't care he just kept stroking her. She hadn't been brushed yet, or curried, most likely because every horse had been brought into the stable in a hurry and the stable keeper was indeed very surprised at the sudden increase of horses. He would need help. Sitka despised the task but he needed money, and he needed to start finding a job early enough that he could build himself a home soon and not take the hospitality of widows or some bitter family that he'd have to pay later.
A dull clatter of a saddle sounded much too loud in the quiet sanctuary of the stable.
"Oh Pudding!" the voice was high pitched, almost a squeak and it annoyed him.
"Who are you," his voice also sounded odd, and the semi-spooked horses snorted quietly
"Oh, for heaven's sake Sitka it's just me, Erin!" She ran up to him with a rosy smile and patted him on the cheek.
"I didn't scare you now did I?"
"No."
"Swallow your pride Sitka." she said, bubbling with laughter.
"What are you doing with that saddle, it's twice the size of you."
"Well, if you have to know, my Pa is headed over to Alavene. He heard there's some nice hunting grounds there where he can get some skins for blankets. I'm getting his horse ready." She smiled again and the warmth of it scalded his face.
"You going?"
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"Why so many questions Sitka? You were never this talkative all these 15 years I've know you."
"Never talked to me much."
"Yeah, sure."
Sitka sighed, "Here, you're doing that wrong, she's going to get all spooked up."
"I'm staying here because Anna needs me to help with her goats."
"That doesn't make any sense. You know Anna can do fine without any help. She's not that old"
Now it was Erin's turn to sigh "I have nothing in Alavene. No friends or family, just my Pa, but he ain't much to talk to."
Sitka laughed, but quickly stifled it wanting to mourn, yet finding her tactics rather amusing.
"Now there you go, first real smile since Sunday!" She giggled and watched him put the saddle on. "How old are you Sitka?"
"Seventeen."
"Well. Thank you. Never knew you could be a gentleman." She lifted her nose into the air and walked away, mocking the royal families.
"Tell your father I wish him luck on his journey." He called out.
"I will, I will."