Chapter 1 - A Mark to Remember

‘Often times in my day, when I look up, I cannot believe that the sky and the clouds are things of reality. It’s Like an oil painting spread above the earth as an elaborate canopy. The clouds that the scholars refer to as, Nimbus’, are breathtaking, especially when there are no storm clouds to be seen, and only white lines the sky. I can look up and try to imagine how high the sky really is, but those clouds put things into new perspective for me. The sky seems to literally bend upwards above the world, and then I can only wonder if perhaps the sky never stops climbing. But like looking into a deep pool, you can only see so far into it.’

-Layella Emerylis,

The third day of September, 1327

It is an odd thing to call it morning before the sun rises. When darkness and coldness abide in the infant hours of the day, and even worse it is when storm clouds block the pre-rise rays from the coming sun. With no light, and no hope of light coming, who would want to go outside? There is one; his name is Taito Emerylis.

The young dawn fairing man ran down a muddy path, clinging to his tattered old mantle. His thin holey shoes took on mud and dirt, squishing uncomfortably with every step he made. The path came to a fork; one was cobblestone, and the other was muddy like the original path. Anyone who lived in the Valley would have taken the nicer of the two, which led into town, but Taito took the road not often walked. Weeds and tall unmanaged grass lined the edges; it was too narrow and bumpy for a wagon to drive through. And after a long trek down the road, it led to a sole house, one worn down by time and the elements. Taito scrambled up to the door, his sandy blonde hair dripped over his shoulders.

The door opened into a wide foyer, decorated naturally with cobwebs and dust. Taito hung his mantle on a termite chewed coat rack, adding footprints along the dirty floor as he proceeded under a ghastly chandelier which clinked delicately in the wind. At the end of the foyer a pair of double doors waited to be polished; Taito pushed on them smearing grimy dust across his clean hands. A long hall was behind the doors.

In the hall, he opened a closet on his right, and traded in his grubby shoes for a pair of house slippers; and in a chest on the left he put his gloves. He proceeded down the hall in the same manner, switching each article of clothing with another, with each one having a different closet or cabinet. It was an eccentric habit, Taito knew, but it was the way he had always done things, and he never questioned them.

The next room Taito stepped into was a kitchen, or at least what was left of one. In the corner his opposite, ash powdered boards jutted out of a gaping hole in the wall, jagged and uneven as if some huge fiery beast had torn into a section of the room, leaving only its charred bite marks behind. Wind howled through the opening filling the room with rain; and like a shallow marsh the soggy floor was lined with moss and unidentifiable sludge. Random kitchen pieces swayed and bobbed in the elements, yet nothing was immediately different in Taito’s mind.

Without care he stood against the storm. Peering around the destroyed room, he pieced together the place with vivid memories of a once bustling kitchen, filled with scents and sights and sometimes smoke. Taito’s soft ears and short nose furled over his creeping smile. Face flushed red from the cold (his slender build could not stand much more); he proceeded on to the last room he would traipse through for the morning.

A vaulted study, walls lined with bookshelves that bordered a fireplace, pictorial with the patchy red armchair sleeping in the center. Dusk’s dim light struggled to shine through the rain and dirt streaked windows that crowned the room. It was dark all around, and Taito sat down in what would have been silence, but the weather kept such an introspective mood away. Rain tinkered on the roof and wind howled through the cracks while thunder rumbled the air.

There are generally two views of the weather: one as a mighty symphony, with order; a preordained song composed by God. And the other is as a chaotic and murderous noise filled with hate. Taito watched the storm with indifference; it was only a reminder for him. But why blame the clouds for something they did not mean to do?

So there he sat in his chair, in front of an unlit fireplace filled with damp kindling, unmoved by the cold living environment, yet he smiled still. Because his tea kept him warm.

And that was enough.

***

A loud knock echoed through the mansion’s barren halls. Taito stirred from a long trans, and was forced to walk back through the clammy corridors. His guest met him half way at the kitchen; a man crawled up through the open hole in the far wall.

“Looks like there’s something good about that missing wall.” The man said. He brushed off the charred bits of wood clinging to his clothes after climbing through the gaping hole.

“Hello to you too.” Taito said before a sneeze.

“You’ve been outside in the rain again, haven’t you?”

“Well… You should know me by now. I had business.” Taito sneered.

“Not every day. Your mother would be disappointed with you.”

Taito shrugged, hoping the conversation would change soon. Leif slipped his hands into his pockets and stared out the opening over the Valley’s fields. The storm was slowing, allowing him a broad view of the world around them. It was like a mural painted on a wall; there were no birds in the sky and the only sign of movement was by the swinging trees and the undulation of the grass in the wind.

Leif appeared to be the same age as Taito. He had a red wavy hair that billowed up in the front. It was the kind of hair that always looked like it had just come from bed, and no amount of spit or glue could tame it. He was stronger in build than his friend, and slightly taller, even though he was the younger of the two. His earthy brown eyes turned back to Taito.

“Sorry friend. It’s just that - well, everyone is worrying about you, and -”

“Then let them worry. I’m fine for now. I have all that I need to take care of myself.” Taito said, smiling back at his friend.

“It’s been five years since the accident, this house, and more importantly, your health is worsening. It’s not so much your refusal to fix the place that we’re most worried about; it’s you.”

“I know, you’ve been telling me that for quite a while now. If that’s all you came for then kindly save your words, friend.”

“Yeah, I am your friend, and that’s why I’m this annoying.” Leif jumped down from the rubble filled kitchen, and headed back toward town, leaving Taito to reminisce about their conversation. Taito watched his friend leave, wishing that it didn’t have to be this way. The winds picked up again, tugging at Taito’s clothes, and something told him he should follow his friend. So he chased after Leif.

The world outside of Taito’s rotted mansion was a serene place, where he and his best friend, Leif, called home: The Valley of Mo’Ore. The Valley was like a dent in the world, surrounded by mile high hills, and wide enough so that ends of the basin floor ran just out of human sight if at the bordering hills feet. Sentinel woods topped the grassy peaks and crept down into the valley floor like a waterfall of foliage spilling into ponds of wooded groves. No one in the Valley of Mo’Ore could see further than the hills’ crowns, and no one outside the surrounding wood could tell such a place lie hidden inside the forest.

Most of the valley floor was taken up by farmland; miles of wheat fields added a golden hue to its rolling green downs. There were two settlements called Westtown and Easttown; many of the citizens lived in these towns if they did not farm. And then there was Taito’s mansion lying even farther west than Westtown (which was really in the center of the Valley), and sitting by itself in the middle of an empty field -- its second story could be seen from several miles away. A work of artistic design, the building stood out from the quaint theme the rest of the Valley held to.

As Taito jumped out of the broken wall, the wind continued to roll over the weed tangled yard that surrounded his home. He walked away from the sound of loosed shutters clacking against the cream painted walls, and stepped carefully over the drowning beds of wildflowers that fenced the area. Leif was glad, if not a little quiet, as Taito ambled next to him. They walked along the wet beaten road, pretending nothing had happened. Taito did not say anything to him at first, yet within minutes the tension in the air dissipated. Their fights commonly went like that, and always seemed to fix themselves.

For being best friends -- nearly brothers-- they were dressed quite differently. Tromping around in old frayed lace boots, Leif started days in tired labor clothes and retired to humble cotton garments. As they walked, Taito fingered his shirt sleeve buttons -- white collard shirts were his normal -- then he slid his hands into the pockets of his slick black pants. His glossy black shoes began clicking rhythmically once he reached the paved cobblestone road. It was often like this, Taito dressed sharp and presentable like a gentleman, while Leif (with no less respect) looked more comfortable and blended better with the Valley folk.

The sun had just raised, the light of the morning rays sparkled off the infinite drops of dew all around, like diamonds scattered threw the grass. It was chill out, summer was coming to its end with fall quickly behind, and oaks on the down were yielding acorns across the valley, their already vibrant green leaves fading gold. Not once did rain come all summer; farmers complained amongst themselves that grain profit would be minimal this year. “Just old man gab”, Leif explained. “Never has the Valley seen even one meal at any families’ table that would make you go hungry.” Life in the valley was a plentiful and healthy upbringing; there were never any true reason to have complaints.

Winding into town, Taito and Leif sauntered into the heart of the village square where the sounds of shuffling feet and chattering voices swarmed around the street vendors and shops. Talking and bartering and jingling of coins filled the background noise of the streets. The people of the village lived in the early morning and mid afternoon, mimicking the farmers outside town in their sleep habits. Leif fished out a few coins at a vendor, buying a fresh piece of bread and a wedge of cheese to nibble on, while Taito poured out a pocket full of change for a nice muffin swathed with buttered, and a few fat slices of bacon.

Everyone Taito and Leif passed stopped to chat for at least a moment, even if just to comment on their breakfast. An older woman with auburn hair and brown eyes stepped up to the friends with a basket in hand. A kind smile underneath squinted wrinkled eyes beamed as she reached into her basket and shakily handed them two yellow apples. She patted their hands like a grandmother.

“Leif, I hope you stayed warm up at Mr. Taito’s house while you were visiting. I don’t see a coat with you?”

“Oh, I wasn’t there long Mrs. Bloom, thanks for your concern.” Leif replied.

Lily Bloom turned her smile to Taito, “You would do well to fix up that nasty hole in your beautiful home, dear. I could never imagine your mother allowing it to stay in such a state for this long…” she lightly patted his arm as her attention was caught by another lady of her age.

“Pity he lives like he does,” Taito overheard Lily bloom whispering, “if only he could be more like that Leif boy.” but Taito turned to leave before he could hear the rest. “And it’s a pity he has no woman to take care of him like that Leif. That boy would be nothing without his sister, and Taito is already a perfect gentleman, all he needs is a little motivation at times.”

The second woman nodded her head in agreement, commenting, “Both of those boys are such strapping young gentleman; Layella raised that child so well. It is understandable that he should take it so hard after he lost his mother.”

Taito looked over at Leif who was contently biting away at his bread loaf and cheese. Then, looking down at his lavish muffin and fatty bacon, he asked,

“Would you like a little of my breakfast?”

“Why? I ‘ave some of my own right ‘ere.” he said with a stuffed mouth.

“I just thought…” Taito tried to explain, but Leif was off down the road leaving a trail of crumbs that Taito could have followed.

“Why don’t we get a nice drink at the restaurant? My treat this time.” called Leif. Taito nodded in agreement.

The two walked into the restaurant’s hall. It, oddly, had no name, but sensibly enough, because it was the only place to sit down and eat besides ones own kitchen. People in the Valley referred to it as ‘Colleen’s place’, due to the girl who ran it. Colleen Luvely was Leif’s older sister, a lady whose name brought ease and warmth to any weary ear. Inside the tavern, a few usuals huddled around the tables closest to the fire pit. The warm room was inviting from the cold autumn sky outside, and a cozy air filled the place. Behind the counter, near the back, a girl sat staring into nothing as she talked with a few men.

“Oi, sis! How ‘bout an ale for me an’ Taito here?”

“Right Leif, at only seven in the morning?”

“Only in jest! But I think that old man, Timber, over there, starts his drinking even earlier than this.”

“Well, Mr. Timber is at least six hundred years old, next to your one-hundred and seventy. So let’s see you grow up a little bit before you start acting like him. Now, what can I get for you two this morning?”

“Just a glass of orange juice for me.” said Taito.

“A’right, let me grab it for you.” Colleen said as she slid her hand across the counter looking for the pitcher. Her bright orange hair fell in front of her cold gray eyes. Alongside the reputation of kindness and beauty that followed her came sad truth that she was blind, although, it was the last thing on her customer’s minds as they let the sightless girls serve them; she was as capable as any other woman in the Valley.

“Oh, Colleen, I’m sorry. Let me get it for you.” said Taito.

“No, I have it here. I may be slower you know, but I won’t let it stop me.”

“Not to worry sis, Taito’s just trying to be polite you know.” said Leif through another mouthful of bread.

“Hun, swallow before you open your mouth.” Colleen said with a smile.

“Here’s the money for the juice, Colleen.” Taito laid down a handful of coins on the counter. The heavy golden things rattled across the countertop.

“Taito, you gave me much more than you owe.” she said, fingering the currency, “Take it back.”

“No, keep it for the money you need to pay the doctor. I’d really like to help.”

Leif spoke up to his friend, “You help enough! Sneakin’ in money with your tab all the time, it’s much more than a good tip should be. Besides, how’m I supposed to live with that kinda dept on my head?”

“Just let me give you what you need, Leif, it won’t be a problem at all.”

Colleen ran her hands around her cane, and quaintly smiling she said, “Taito, I really appreciate your generosity. Although I think both Leif and I would like to earn the money honestly. I don‘t see the doctor too often these days, and he doesn‘t even charge me for checkups anymore. Leif and I are stable enough without your kind gestures.”

“I figured taking help from a friend was far from unjust.” Taito argued.

“A’right Taito, you’ve proven that you’re by our side, but I’ll be fine paying for my medicine by myself. But I’ll be thinking of ways you can help.”

“Good.” Taito added a nod.

The talk between the three companions grew warm and light. These were Taito’s favorite times. Often, Leif would creep around, while Colleen spoke, and attempt some kind of trick on her. Trying to sneak up from behind and grab her usually ended in Colleen’s cane finding rest at Leif’s shins, tripping or striking him accordingly. Her hearing was too keen for his clumsy footsteps; she knocked him humbly to the floor as Taito scoffed at his mischievous friend.

Mornings in the tavern were good, many people of the Valley passed in just to say ‘hello’, or for a hurried glass of water as they continued their daily errands. The town people did much to help the siblings. One day, a few of the men crafted a box with a slot in it and mounted it on the wall near the outside door while Colleen was out. On the box an engravement read ‘Good Times Fee’. It was a playful excuse for the town to donate money without them feeling like they gave out of pity. When Leif saw the box he only laughed at the idea, but kept it a secret from Colleen who would never allow it in her home -- the brother and sister lived upstairs above the restaurant.

“Oi sis, how would you like to take a stroll ‘round town with us before we head off to our job?” said Leif.

“What have you to do today?” asked his sister.

“Apple Blossom said that her husband would be out for the day on the other side of the Valley, visiting his cousins, and that she’d like us to give her hand at home. Seems t’me that Mr. Blossom is only over at his cousins cause it’s slaughterin’ day for the farmers. Probably just wants to make sure he gets the best rack of meat before the rest of us.”

Colleen smirked as she cleaned up the morning’s dishes (with no help from her brother, and too much from Taito). The friends ended up leaving Colleen behind, who said she had too much to do before the day got busy. Really, she was never busy at all; most of the ladies who came in with their husbands would step right up to assist Colleen if it got too packed. Children often came in at random times in the day to do some dishes for her or wipe down tables. Folk in the Valley all made it a habit (or perhaps it was instinct) to help each other in whatever way was needed.

Ten years ago, a woman named Holly Sweet, lost her husband to illness. The very same night of her horrible loss, Holly’s kitchen was flooded with cakes, pastries, and foods made by girls all over the village, and since that day, she is visited hourly by women of the Valley. On their way to work, Leif and Taito took a stroll by her house for a visit; it had been a while since they last stopped by.

Once inside, having said hello and gotten situated, Leif wandered into the kitchen where he clambered through her cupboards trying to find a tea kettle, making more of a racket than progress. Taito sat next to her on the sofa conversing about his day and the lovely decorations throughout the house. A multitude of pictures garnished in elegant frames -- telling of days she had with her husband -- covered the halls and dotted shelves and mantles around the room.

“Ours was the only picture box in the Valley.” commented Miss Sweet.

She told of how her husband had received the device long ago when he lived outside the Valley. They were the only family to have one and were the envy of the town because pictures in the Valley of Mo’Ore were an oddity. (Some places in the world considered photographs common as fire, while still others had yet to enjoy them.)

“You know, I very well remember that Mr. Sweet took a couple picturegraphs of you and your mother when you were young. Layella was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life.” Miss Sweet spoke much more articulately than most of the folk in the Valley. The idea never crossed Taito’s mind until now, but every morning that anyone had tea with her, Miss Sweet was dressed and primped like she was ready for evening supper. At such an early hour, he wondered how she managed herself so properly.

“With that long blonde hair and pretty emerald eyes, she stood out from everyone else in the Valley. Hmph, then you look at us with our dull eyes. Tis a wonder that you two look so different than the rest of us.” Miss Sweet’s hair was like polished silver, although with rusty red hues brushed through it. Her face was dignified and based with a tight frilled collar that preserved her modesty. The lines under her eyes hardly stood out as wrinkles, being more like creases, like an old piece of paper that has been bent and folded instead of crumpled.

“And you know what else,” she continued, “your mother looked like such a tender new life that I had to ask of her age. One day, and you know to this day, I wonder how she could answer the way she did. It must’ve been at least twenty years ago when she told me that she was just as old as I am, and no confidentiality needed, but I’m nearly nine-hundred years old!” Taito’s disposition remained the same as she continued yes focused on his tea, and mouth curved up just enough to be a courteous smile.

“I said to her, ‘Dear, you must be teasing with me. Tis not polite to confuse such an old and brittle mind.’ But she only replied in the quaintest and most polite smile ever. To tell the truth,” She leaned in and whispered, “I thought she was your younger sister!” Holly pulled back laughing, while Taito exhaled sharply to entertain her joke. “That one was a gem. A lovely mother, you had.”

Still his face remained unmoved, lips pursed; his eyesight grew blurry momentarily, and he wished they could talk of other things. Miss Sweet did not notice the mist under his eyelids, and only continued to small talk.

Leif eventually paraded in, quite content with himself for preparing the tea. He sat down next to Taito placing the tray on the coffee table. Sweet aromatic steam wisped to Taito’s senses, (mint tea was a favorite in the Valley) drying his moist eyes.

After spending the morning with the kindly widow, Leif and Taito set off to the end of town to help Mrs. Blossom for the day. Holley Sweet saw the boys off with great thanks for the visit, waving from her door frame, and shielding her eyes from the sun, which was now high enough to touch the whole valley. Everyone was awake and about, except perhaps one or two children who clung to their beds in fear of the day’s impending chores. Long white strips of torn cotton lazed across the blue stretch of sky; the night’s storm clouds fled with only damp soil as evidence of its presence.

Winding through the streets, Taito and Leif came to the Blossom home waiting on the very edge of town. Just beneath the eastern downs, and behind a meadow that ran out from her house into the bubbling hills; the house sat in a carpet of daisy’s and baby’s breath; it was a scent like many candles burning. There atop the porch perched Mrs. Blossom, swinging placidly in a cushioned bench swing. Noticing her hired workmen, she fluttered down the steps to greet them. They were met with a strong hug from tender arms around both their necks. Apple Blossom was a little lady, hardly five feet tall; she had short strawberry colored hair, and a smile that made her eyes squint whenever she brought it out.

The kindly lady went around the side of the house, where a set of tools lie, and tried to bring them out front to her help. She slogged them through the dirt, but was halted by Taito who came to meet her before she could pull them through the flowers anymore.

“I feel so sorry that Mister Blossom decided to take all day out at his cousin’s farm.” said Mrs. Blossom, “It seemed quite convenient that he decided to leave the day you two offered to help us with our fence here. I only hope that he’ll be back soon and won’t be leaving the both of you to do this yourself.”

Their fence was knocked down a week ago from a nearby farmer’s stray cow. Mr. Blossom could have easily repaired the short fence himself, but noticed the continuing posts running the whole east side of the village were in shoddy condition. He asked Leif and Taito if they would help him repair the entire fence, (it was at least a miles worth) and they gladly agreed, even before he offered to pay.

Leif grabbed a hammer and post driver while Taito rolled up his sleeves and pant cuffs, but realized he had put on his better shoes today. Annoyed, he sighed, and asked if Mr. Blossom had any work shoes he could borrow. Mrs. Blossom quickly came out with a pair of old muddy boots that looked too big for Taito, and when he tried them on, he clopped instead of walked. Leif struggled to hold in jokes, but waited for the Missus to leave before unloading on his friend.

“I want you to be extra careful while we work, Taito. I’d rather not have any of my toes smashed today!” laughed Leif.

Taito glared from the corner of his eyes at his friend as they walked to the fence. They sighed at the work ahead. The morning went by fast for the two; they were having fun telling stories and mostly talking about nothing amongst themselves. Mrs. Blossom kept them hydrated, bringing out lemonade in plentiful supply. Noon came just in time, for they had both grown tired, and Apple prepared a hot meal. Taito ate the chicken pie and peaches, and was out on the fence working soon enough. Leif wolfed down his lunch too fast, and said he needed a little bit of a longer break before continuing.

The familiar summer heat returned by midday; a fluctuation of temperature was common before autumn. So Taito removed his collared shirt, wearing just a plain undershirt now. Looking at him, one would not judge Taito as strong or exceptionally fit, and next to Leif he looked quite scrawny. His redheaded friend had large toned arms and a broad chest; he could swing the sledge hammer much harder than Taito.

“Look at that young man out there, such a wonderful boy he is.” said Mrs. Blossom. But Leif was too busy reclining on her sofa, moaning and rubbing his stomach; the speed at which he ate now greatly upset him.

“Leif, you stay close to that man, you can learn a lot from him. I know that neither of you have any parents anymore, but at least you have your sister to look after you. Taito hasn’t got anyone to look up to like that. It’s unfortunate that he lives in such a sad state like he does. I sees him around town givin’ out so much money; it’s a wonder that he doesn’t use any of it to spruce up that beautiful home of his.”

While Leif lie on the couch, he stared out the window trying to watch Taito, but was too low, and all that appeared through the glass was the rise and fall of a sledgehammer, steadily coming up and slamming down in rhythm. The chock-chock sound of the head hitting the wooden post echoed through the thin walls of Mrs. Blossom’s house. Leif was proud of his friend; everywhere they went smiles grew when people saw them coming. They were the ripened pick of men in the entire Valley, two boys at their prime ready to tackle any project all day long and every day of the week. Being the talk of town, mothers dreamed and gammed about how their daughter would one day end up as a Mrs. Luvely or a Mrs. Emerylis; it was never uncommon for an argument to break out about the subject.

Soon enough, the steady beat of a crashing sledgehammer was harmonized by a second, adding a quick quarter beat to the tempo. Leif made sure to watch Taito’s progress, which likewise, Taito did, comparing his own speed with his friend’s. The sly looks across both their faces and ever increasing falls of their hammers meant a competition was underway. Starting at opposite ends, and with a united cry they raced toward objective of reaching a mutual center point in the fence line. It was late in the day and over half of the posts were driven when sweat began to fall faster than the hammers.

“You won’t beat me,” Leif panted, “You can’t beat me!” He sounded like a dog between words, blowing out hot body heat from his drooping mouth.

“And why is that?” Taito asked. He was just as exhausted yet showed it less.

“You can’t beat me -- because I’m stronger than you. It just can’t happen.”

They were twenty posts apart, working closer to each other and the center point. Taito kept up a steady rate and led by almost five posts. Leif started strong but slowed after pushing too hard.

Dig the hole; secure the post; pack the ground; and nail in the side planks was the basic routine. Taito beamed as he sped through his second to last post. Seeing he was so far behind with no chance of winning, Leif panicked, and dropped his tools and charge toward Taito.

“I said you’re not s’posed to win!” Leif dove threw the air knocking Taito off his feet, disarming his fencing tools, and crashed into the loose soil.

“No! You know I’m going to win!” Taito laughed as he struggled to wrench free of Leif’s pin. “You can’t stop me now, and besides, how are you going to win if you’re pinning me down like this?”

Leif stared at Taito’s arrogant expression while straddling his flattened body. Looking back, he realized he had no way of catching up, but it was still not over. He grabbed both of Taito’s wrists in one strong hand, and hoisted him up onto his shoulders like a lifeless sack, lumbering back to his posts. Taking the hammer in his free hand he proceeded to pound in one of his own posts.

“How are you going dig the next few holes for the posts?” Taito couldn’t stop laughing despite being unwillingly slung across Leif’s shoulders.

“Ah, fine! You win.” Leif would not lose gracefully, and dropped Taito mercilessly off his back into the dirt. He could not hold back a smile though.

“I told you friend.” Taito said, brushing off the dirt. “You may dominate me in wrestling and strength, but I’ll outlast you. In endurance and stamina I can win!”

“And I guess you’d win if we were judging quality too…” Leif chuckled. They looked back at Leif’s work: fence posts were uneven and crooked; nails stuck out and were bent down over the surface. He hurried too much, and groaned as they went back and fixed them all again.

Of course, just as they had only a few more posts to redo, Mr. Blossom finally returned to town on his mule drawn wagon. He hopped off the cart smiling as he surveyed the boys’ work.

“Well just fine! Just fine my boys! This looks like a job done by a fencer by trade. You even continued it all along the east side of town. What a deal we got outta ya!” He spoke in shouts, making apparent his excitement. “Now I’m gunna hafta figure out something more for yer payment.” He ran around the cart and whipped off the tarp covering it, revealing a mound of cold wrapped meat.

“I think this’ll cover your expenses.” He said. When obviously the mass of meat was enough to count for a month’s work. Mr. Blossom dramatically whisked the canvas back over the wagon, laughing at the boys ogling eyes.

“Not all of this is for you, don’t get too excited now. But I will give each of you a ten pound cut of any kind you choose. Today was the first slaughtering day of the season, you know. So that’s why I was so anxious to get myself over to my cousin Chestnut’s stock hold, I got the first heifer they did. These is prime pickens boys, so don’t be shy. And don’t worry. This is on top of what I said I’d pay you in cash, alright?”

It was soon enough that Mr. Blossom’s meat was all packed away down in his cellar for the season, and Leif and Taito were loaded with an arm’s full of prime rib and brisket. After a long conversation of “I insist”s and “No we couldn’t”s over staying for dinner, the two companions were off down the trail with complimentary parting waves.

“Oi, that day wasn’t so bad now, and to think that I for once worked harder than you Taito!”

Taito, under a cocked eyebrow and forced smile said,

“I agree, what with me eating lunch so fast that I had to take a nap on Missus Blossom’s couch today, you obviously out worked me because of that.”

Leif threw his head back and laughed. He had nothing to fight back with after that. Before they could even walk from view of the house, Taito stopped because he noticed heaviness at his feet; he was still wearing Mr. Blossom’s shoes.

Calling for Leif to wait, he returned to the house and knocked on the door. Inside he heard voices that apparently did not hear him. So he let himself in, and drew close to the chatting residences. Apple Blossom spoke,

“Those two boys are something else, eh Bud?”

Mr. Blossom stood at the window, smoking a pipe.

“I feel bad for the boy though,” she continued, “It must be embarrassing for Leif to walk next to Taito every day. I don’t see how they could compare.”

Taito grimaced at the words, and dropped the boots in the hall where he stood, and sullenly snuck away. Having gone, he did not hear the rest,

“I mean, Taito is so proper and yet humble enough to take off his good clothes every day to help out people like us. Not to put down Leif in any way, but he must be proud to have such a splendid friend to look up to. If only we could find a way to convince them to fix that beautiful house. Oh, is someone there?”

Taito slipped out of the door before either of the Blossoms could notice he had returned. Bud Blossom stepped into the hallway, searching around for their quiet intruder. He came back in, almost tripping over the oddly placed boots in the hall.

“Dear, why are my shoes dirty?”

Taito tramped down the path, not making a point to catch up with Leif, and instead chose to walk alone on the way home. It grew late into the evening; the sun would set within the hour -- this was the most beautiful time of day in the Valley. Warm orange rays of the sun blanketed the Valley with a border of silhouetted forest capped hills surrounding it. Many of the wildflowers were accented best by this serene evening atmosphere. Their aroma was inescapable.

As Taito trudged down the path, he walked with his hands shoved in his pockets and his head weighted down. The warm evening air was not enough to cheer him up now. Making it a ways down the paved path leading home, Taito was stopped by a familiar voice.

“What’s up with you friend?” Leif was standing on the side of the road. He was behind Taito now.

“It’s nothing Leif. I think that I’m just going to go home.”

“Aw, now come on. I was thinking we could have a roast tonight. Look at all of this beautiful meat! We can invite the neighborhood over and have a little celebration. I’m sure some of the girls will even come by, huh?”

“Maybe another night.” Taito looked at his friend for a while and forced a smile. For the first time, he really noticed something that seemed so obvious. Leif, and every other family in the Valley, had some shade of red hair, and noticeably brown eyes, while he (and by memory his mother) were distinct blondes with bright green eyes. He had never felt more out of place than he did now, and not just because of the physical differences.

“I just want to go home.”

“Well, I don’t think you can very well go without something over your feet.” Leif pointed to his friend’s lack of footwear. He forgot to retrieve his own shoes when he left the boots at the Blossoms. Taito agreed to stop at Leif’s house to borrow some shoes before returning home. The walk back into town was long and awkward for the two. Taito was deathly silent, while Leif tried to keep the time active by talking about anything, yet nothing important. The town was still busy with its citizens bustling about, visiting and working. They made it difficult for Taito to feel sorry for himself whenever he walked through town. He was stopped by so many people, some just passing by with a ‘salutations!’ or a simple ‘hello there’.

Before long Taito was holding onto a basket full of freshly baked rolls from Miss Chrysanthemum, and Leif cradled a jar full of thick creamy butter churned by her daughter, Petal.

“Come on in an I’ll find you some shoes.” said Leif.

“I don’t really feel like going inside right now.”

Leif just shook his head and left his friend out in the street while he went to find an able pair of footwear. Taito closed his eyes and crossed his arms while he waited outside the tavern door. The world around him seemed quiet. The words of Mrs. Blossom ran through his mind and over and over again. ‘It must be embarrassing for Leif to walk next to him everyday. I don’t see how they could compare.’ It bothered him that the amount of courtesy and generous charity was still not enough to gain acceptance. What did they want?

A chill prickled through Taito that stirred him back into reality. Around the street, heavy fog billowed in from alleys and down roads like a misty breath blown into the corridors of a maze. shivered behind the sudden appearance of looming clouds. No one was left in square; the streets were eerily empty and quiet when only a moment before it bustled with people. Taito wondered how long he was waiting in front of the door, and how deep in his thoughts he had gone. Unattended street vendors, lonely porches, and silent homes were all that stayed visible in town.

Howling wind cooed through crevices in the walls and shrieked over rooftops lining the street. Dying leaves shook from their branches and shattered under Taito’s feet as he walked closer to Leif’s house. Startled by the sudden plinking of rain on his face, Taito took hold of the door knob violently shaking its resting frame. Craning his neck back at the street, Taito strained his eyes to the furthest corner in their socket, almost painfully staring into the fog. Vaporous curtains of mist folded back for a man in a black hooded cloak, and every shadow in sight flickered nervously at each footstep he took closer to Taito.

Time seemed to cease. Taito could hear his heart beating, inching its way up his throat, crying out for him to run away, but despite his pounding fists and warbled shouts, the door Taito clawed at remained closed. Inside the man’s cave like hood peered shining eyes, brighter than gold coins, and strands of his hair, red as roses, whipped in the wind. Coming to face with Taito, the cloaked man smiled, and the raging storm muted. All was calm for a moment as the two stood matching toes, eyes locked; the ear pinching drone of crashing rainfall still rang in Taito’s head. But clearly, he heard the cloaked man speak,

“Hi.”

His dark rain drenched sleeve lifted from his side, and the storm resumed more violent than before. The stranger placed his hand on Taito‘s shoulder; smoke smoldered under his palm, singeing away part of Taito’s shirt. The man shoved Taito back into the door frame, and walked away without another word. As he disappeared into the fog, the storm settled; it was as though the sky itself feared the hooded fiend. The Canopied sky cleared up as the stranger’s loyal clouds ran away beyond the hills, and the dulled sun was allowed to resume its nightly setting routine. Taito sat hunched in a ball on his friends’ porch, eyes wide, and hands clenched tight to his shirt as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. Finally the door opened -- despite Taito’s earlier desperate request -- and pulled out his back support. He rolled backwards onto Leif’s feet, panting desperately in a puddle of sweat and rain.

“Oi, what happened to you? Where is everybody?”

Taito was unable to answer, shivering in a fit, and brushing his chest where the strange man touched him. Burned through his shirt and scalded into his shoulder, Taito dared himself to look at the searing scar branded into his skin.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside.” Leif grabbed his friend by the pits of his arms, hoisting him into the tavern. Leif felt shaky, the kind of nervousness that ensues the unknown and manifests itself in a panic. He called out to his sister while laying Taito on a table.

“What happened to him?” An old man in the tavern inquired.

“I don’t know, he’s got a nasty burn on his shoulder. It looks pretty bad. Colleen, hurry up!”

Taito clasped the table’s edges, hissing heavily between gritted teeth. The stinging pain felt like it was sinking deeper into his shoulder, taking root in his body.

“What did you do out there? How did this happen?” Leif interrogated.

Taito shook his head back and forth, unable to cognate words. Colleen rushed down the stairs, sensing trouble in the room.

“Leif, what’s going on?” her voice was urgent and a bit nervous.

“Somethin happened to Taito, it looks like he was burned pretty badly. He’s got his shirt scorched and a mark here on his shoulder. Look at the cloth all around it; it’s still got embers on it.” Leif said while trying carefully to put out the smoldering fabric.

“What do you want me to do for him?” asked Colleen, still unsure what had happened.

“Go soak some rags and bring a bowl of cool water. Bring out bandages too.”

Ewan Timber, who had been in the restaurant earlier that morning, examined Taito for awhile, situating the hole in his shirt to better see the damage done.

“Well, it looks like it’s soldered over. He won’t need to see no doctor.”

Leif nodded his head and left to check on his sister; he could hear her shuffling around and the clinking of bowls in the next room. There was no need to aid his blind sibling, as deftly as she ran from drawer to drawer, picking out the tools and supplies needed with ease. She was finding things faster than Leif probably could have in the kitchen, proving again her supernatural connection she had with the room. Standing in the middle of the door frame, Leif was shoved aside as Colleen made her way to where Taito lie.

By the time they returned, Taito was passed out on top of the table with Ewan standing over him, still staring at the mark. Checking his temperature yielded stable results, and wrapping the injury was a simple task. Aside from all the commotion, Taito was fine.

“He’s gonna haf an intrestin scar.” Mr. Timber said. Since they had brought Taito inside, he could not take his eyes from the burn.

“What do you mean?” Colleen asked. Strangely, she felt she wanted to touch it, to feel what it looked like. The draw was so strong that she began to reach for it, but Leif took hold of her hand.

“It has a shape to it. Like someone branded him.” Leif told his sister, and she replied asking why they said it was so interesting.

“Because it’s shaped like a rose.” said Leif, silencing the discussion.

The ridges and sears were like a beautiful work of art burned mystically into a canvas. Lines and shading graced the bold petals, as if a hot pen was used to etch the detail that seemed so painstakingly drawn. Leif was mesmerized by its intricacy, before he remembered this was his friend’s skin, not a piece of paper.

“I’ll carry him up to my bed, and we’ll watch over him for the night.” said Leif.

Leif finished upstairs, returned down, gave his sister a hug for all the help, and sent her off to her room for the night. He promised to finish cleaning up down stairs. Colleen could not see it, but Leif’s face was flushed pale, and he struggled to smile for reasons he knew not. She felt his chest when he hugged her, and prodded to make sure everything was truly alright, his breathing had quickened is why she asked.

“You saw that burn right?” Leif said to Ewan after Colleen went upstairs. “For some reason it makes me really uncomfortable to look at it.”

“I don’t know how he got that kind of a burn, and I don’t think I wanna. When Taito wakes and explains to ya what happened, don’t go telling nobody ‘bout it. In fact, hide it best you can, an I’ll try to forget it best I can. Don’t even tell me what did it when ya find out.”

Ewan left, leaving Leif alone in the dimly lit dining room. For the rest of the night they shared similar thoughts. They both knew that keeping quiet and forgetting such an unnaturally shaped scar was something neither would easily accomplish. It was a mark you would remember for the rest of your life, even if it could disappear and never be seen again.