Sometimes the right way turns all wrong. I saw his body lying there. My teacher, my mentor, my friend - face down in a pool of his own blood. His white robes were starched brown with dried blood, his throat cut open by the thieves who’d stolen the spiritual artifact we’d been entrusted to protect.
But the Blessed Mystery smiles, we caught one of the two thieves, and it is my duty to escort this foul woman to the garrison for interrogation. God, how I thirst for revenge! But I cannot afford the luxury of anger, for it is my duty and responsibility to love. I am a priestess on the side of light. But this hate, it is so heavy … it is too heavy.
A ripping, like that of canvas, split the peace of sleep. Wynkkur awoke with a start. Seeing the stars in the sky, the moon hung like a silver wedge over the water. Over the soft trickling of the river he heard a breathy snort from aside the skiff at the shore. Looking over the softly glowing coals, disbelief froze his mind.
Tearing through their sack of food was the largest bear Wynkkur had ever seen. It was easily twice the size of the brown bears he’d seen in the mountains. Dread streamed in his veins while remembering, she’d said a giant bear killed her father, and that is one giant of a bear. Slowly, he rolled over to Popalia.
“Shh,” he whispered into her ear. “Be quiet and start praying. I think we might be in trouble.”
The beast grunted, sounding more like swine than a bear. Popalia peeked above her overturned shoulder. The beast raised its head from out of the canvas sack. Shredded pieces of cooked game hen fell from the sides of its elongated and tooth-filled mouth.Slightly bulbous eyes were perched upon the top of its head, granting the hinted appearance like a lizard. Blinking, the eyes flashed in the moonlight.
“Oh my god,” Popalia exclaimed above a whisper. “What are we going to do?”