Way of the Moon Bear

Chapter 2: Eyes of Crimson

Chapter 2: Eyes of CrimsonGreenwick opened his eyes the morning after the cave slumber and jumped up in fright, forgetting about the bear at his side. “Oh, you,” he groaned, looking over to the snoozing bulk and recalling the events of the day before. He wasn't lucky enough to be trapped within a dream. His troubling companion and lack of memory were as real as the pain he felt internally. He rubbed his dry, aching eyes and staggered out of the cave to take in the fresh outdoors, hoping that the beautiful scenery would at least ease his worries a little. Unfortunately, the day was suffering from a mundane gloom after the heavy rain that invaded the ground overnight. Water dripped from leaves and birds shook their soggy feathers the best they could on the neighbouring twigs, but all drying efforts were futile as more dark clouds entered the sky, roaming around and threatening to douse the land in more tiresome wetness. The potential downpour didn't stop Wick from leaving the cave however. It was the perfect chance for him to leave the sleeping bear and continue his search for answers alone, not having to worry about hiding a dangerous animal the size of three men wherever he went. He took one final look back to make sure he wasn't being followed and made a hasty exit into the thick, slippery forest. The boy didn't mind being alone, especially during the safety of daylight. The woods felt seemingly endless to him though, with a lack of wildlife occupants, but the loneliness only gave him closure, knowing that there weren't any threatening creatures lurking around. No matter how long he walked for, there was bound to be an end, or at least a break in the trees eventually, so the only plan he really had was to trudge along until he crossed paths with civilisation. For the first few hours, the only noises he could hear were the squishes of his footsteps, the rustling of passing bushes, and the hundreds of overlapping bird calls. The lack of distractions allowed him to reflect on things, although there was only so much he could question and think about before he was just repeating the same issues he had from the previous day. The worst part of all was the fact that he remembered less and less as time continued to push, even though the portion he could remember was already minuscule anyway. Before long, all was lost. He'd been lucky in some respects, being able to dissect and save his name from disappearing, but he would have happily sacrificed his identity in return for answers to the more burning questions on his mind. A part of him simply wanted to move on, knowing that there wouldn't be a way to restore what was missing, so there'd be no reason to dwell on what technically no longer existed, but on the other hand, he knew he'd feel incomplete for the rest of his life, unable to obtain even the slightest bit of closure.

An interesting noise in the distance eventually broke his cycle of mental torture and shifted his interest towards the source of sound instead. At first, it sounded like chaotic screams of pain, but after creeping closer for a look, it was made clear that the yelling was simply merchants attempting to sell their goods. Twenty to thirty stalls clumped themselves together in the middle of a field to create a large square, each selling unique items at varying qualities. Silk tradesmen had travelled far from distant desert lands in hopes to sell their fine materials, desperate Easterners shoved dragon hide in customer's faces, praying that they wouldn't know how fake they were. Other stalls sold vibrant fruits and vegetables that most people hadn't even seen, looking delicious and intriguing. The boy's stomach cried in agony the second his eyes connected to the juicy foods. He had no form of currency, but he checked his pockets thoroughly anyway just in case. For all he knew, he could have been a rich child, but alas, he was as poor as he'd dreaded. He was too scared to beg as well, in fear of getting into conflict with unfriendly sellers. Most of them seemed to have travelled great distances with their products, so none of them were bound to give their goods away for free, not even to a starving boy, alone in the wild. He looked at their angry, desperate and sleazy faces which only confirmed his judgement and speculations. Greenwick had two options – steal, or starve. None of the merchants had noticed him walking over to blend into the crowds, rubbing his sweaty hands nervously. His head only reached the men and women's waists, so he was well-hidden and remained inconspicuous, as though he was simply lumbering around with parents. Whonestead had provided a sense of community, but the market provided a sense of diverse culture. It was a rare instance of differing cultures coming together as one, but even the market was war and conflict in itself. People blabbered between themselves in their native tongues, dealing snide glares over to oppositions. The entire square was intense and hostile, as though one small disagreement could had led to explosive riots and outrage. Thankfully, the larger kingdoms of the world had sent authoritative figures to keep their watchful eyes open for escalating arguments, illegal goods and theft. Wick hadn't noticed the guards though, and so obviously lingered around the food stalls like the robbing novice he was. The raw hunger had taken over his innocence, squashing down his morals and ethics, and replacing them with the rabid necessity to eat. At last, a chance to snatch and grab stood before him. The owner of a fruit stall was busy negotiating prices to a customer in a different language, allowing Wick to sneak over and swipe an oddly-coloured apple. He turned around and walked away instantly, stuffing the fruit inside of his jacket awkwardly whilst pushing his way through the crowds to get to a safe distance. Before he could relax and act casual, a woman purposely bumped into him, knocking him to the floor and causing his loot to roll out across the floor. She stood over him unimpressed with long, dark hair trailing down the sides of her serious face. Her outfit was like nothing Wick had ever seen. She wore a white Knight's suit of metal armour, with golden chainmail poking out between the openings, as she held a sharp and scary helmet in her heavy gauntlets. The most striking feature of all were the irregular spectacles she had clasped tightly to her head, concealing her actual eyes which only made her emotions and expressions all the more mysterious and terrifying. They were handmade, seemingly by an incredibly skilled crafter way ahead of their time. Intricate, gold side-shields covered the eyes even more by going across both sides of her head, which then connected to the leather straps and braces that wrapped around her ears tightly, making them more like goggles. The most ominous part was the round, glass lenses, stained blood-red, allowing her to hide all kinds of death stares behind them. “You should be more careful, little thief,” she said in a calm but cold manner. Wick couldn't help but gawk rudely at her eye accessory. “What are those?” he asked in amazement, forgetting for a moment that he was actually in a great deal of trouble. “My craftsman made them for me. He calls them, spectacles. I call them, none of your business, what's it to you? Are you going to try and steal them like you did that fruit?” she rudely answered.

“I only took it because I was hungry”.

“I'm tired, yet you don't see me sleeping on a bed”.

“I'm sorry, I won't do it again.”

“I know, because you're coming with me”.

“Can't I just leave? I'll give the fruit back and explain myself”.

“Do you know what we do here in Magmalia when we catch thieves? We tie the hands together and burn them. The bubbling flesh merges everything into one big, messy clump”.

“I don't want that! It not my fault!” Before he could explain himself better, she took his arm and pulled him from the market to a secluded dirt road, leading towards the large city of Magmalia. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please, just let me go!” he cried.

“Criminals are only sorry when they're caught. You're obviously a foolish child who knows nothing of the world if you dare pester around these lands,” she jabbed.

“I lost my memory, I don't even know where I am in the world”.

“Strange boy,” she said to herself. Wick began to wriggle around and struggle but her grip was tight and had started to bruise his wrist. “Get off me, I don't want to go with you!”

“You don't have a choice,” she cackled.

“Help! Somebody, help me!”

“Ha, no one is going to oppose me. To oppose me is to oppose the law… just like you did when you stole that fruit. Do you not know what I stand for or who I serve?” she chuckled at his stupidity whilst pulling him effortlessly across the floor. “I don't care! Get off! Help!” Just then, the bear jumped out from the trees at their side, knocking her over into the mud. The heavy armour protected her from harm and allowed her to spring back to her feet with a sword at the ready. The blade was swift and elegant in shape. The boy had no idea what sort of affairs he had stumbled upon, but was thankful for the bear's unexpected rescue. The beast tugged him by the sleeve again, and this time, Wick happily obliged. The Knight adjusted her odd eye-wear and ran after them. The bear was large enough for the boy to climb on top of and sit on its back as they continued to escape. They passed the market, knocking over stalls and sending people's precious goods up into the air in a frantic barge-through, but the woman was close behind, jumping over debris and moving between the confused bystanders. The ones that were vigilant enough to notice the stampeding beast didn't need to be told to move out of the way. It didn't take long for the whole market to escalate into disarray. The boy's pursuer had all the more reason to catch him after demolishing civilian's livelihood in the matter of seconds, but no matter how angry or desperate she got, her legs could only move so fast. She wasn't the sort of person to give up easily though and calculated a new strategy almost instantly upon noticing a horse tied up on a nearby fence. After cutting the restraints, she jumped on and galloped as fast as possible. Wick and the bear were well into the forest at that point, but they could see her manoeuvring the horse with great skill across the cluttered floor, whereas the heavy battering ram of an animal that the boy was on simply, but messily, pushed its way through everything that dared stand in front. “Faster, faster!” he yelled as the crazed lady gained on them. Neither he nor the bear were properly looking where they were going, and after a manic death chase, their speedy flee turned into a clumsy plummet. The two of them had reached an unseen cliff edge that emerged from behind a set of dense bushes, preventing them from stopping and saving themselves a fall. Instead, they dropped for ages and flailed in the air uncontrollably, unable to obtain any sense of direction, until finally reaching the bottom with two separate impact sounds – with one being much louder than the other. The horse-riding Knight had finally caught up with them, but she was too late, their bodies were thirty feet down at the bottom of the cliff, slopped heavily into the gloopy marshlands that rotted the area. The two escapees had survived the unplanned descent with help from the deep, grimy muck cushioning their fall. It took them a moment to collect themselves and to make sure they were still alive, but both were unharmed. Wick looked up at the angry woman. He could tell she was scowling even though there was a hefty distance between them. She looked on and let them go, having no intentions of getting her prideful armour covered in thick slime. They were no longer her or Magmalia's problem, but the dangerous terrain ahead of them was punishment in itself. She turned around and clopped back through the forest to return the horse and inform her Captain of the day's events, with the intention of leaving out the parts where she failed, whilst the boy's next dilemma was to traverse the swamp without drowning in ooze.

Wick and the bear had found themselves in the infamous, Marsh of Magmalia, not knowing how far it stretched on for. Their bodies were covered in mud from top to bottom, but it dried and became crispy on their faces rather quickly. Wick was lucky he only had the top of his head covered in hair. The poor bear had irritating dirt stuck all over it. There wasn't much they could do about their messy appearance so they just focused on getting out. At first, the boy figured that the best thing to do was to keep heading in a straight direction, but he soon noticed his furry saviour heading a different way. “I've had enough of you trying to lead the way. I can't take guidance from a bear,” Wick complained. Of course, the beast didn't reply, and continued in the direction it felt best, expecting the boy to keep up. “Listen to me, I mean it. Where are you trying to take me anyway?” he continued to moan. At long last, his curiosity got the better of him and he gave into the seemingly fixated way of the bear, just so he could finally see what all the fuss was about. “I don't know where you're wanting to go but I suppose it'd be best if I just let you get there. Maybe I'll find out a little more about what happened to me… and maybe you'll stop having to tug on my sleeves too”. He couldn't believe how the failed theft of one fruit had led them knee-deep into a disgusting swamp, but he was grateful for being saved from the woman. The bear's loyalty had been falsely regarded as foolery, and his compassion was at first perceived as fixation. To jump in and save his life after it had been left behind to sleep in the cave, been told that it was being stupid, ordered to stay away and leave him alone, he felt as though the bear must have had an unbreakable relationship with him before he lost his memory, so the boy was willing to regain it in case his assumptions were true. “Hey, bear,” he called, making it turn around and look him in the eyes. “Thank you for saving me earlier. Maybe I was being too harsh at first… but it's because I was confused. Do you understand me?” he explained. To his surprise, the bear walked over to him and licked his face over and over. “Alright, alright. Let's get moving,” he giggled. Perfectly timed with the glimmer of happiness, the stormy clouds finally collapsed under the weight and let loose onto them for the second time in the space of two days, transforming the boy's mood back to his usual state of depression, as though each drop of water that ran down his face carried with it a reminder of just how much trouble he was in. His faith in humanity had been spoilt by the lack of understanding from the people of Whonestead, and the harshness and cruelty from the Magmalian Knight. If they were unable to visit other places in the future without causing a fiasco, Wick felt little use in trying. His first experience of punishment and pain with the red-spectacled woman had scared him greatly, but he kept his fear inside and focused on getting as far away from her as possible. The way ahead had just been made all the more difficult due to the rain, and his mental miseries added extra weight for him to carry. No matter what though, his new acknowledged friend continued to lead in the mystery direction as he trailed behind, still dying of starvation. He could have attempted to eat one of the many differing fungi sprouting around, but it was too much of a risk. Instead, he tried his best to not think about food and followed the pathway that the wide and heavy body in front of him was making, no longer accompanied with a simple beast, but with a caring guardian.