SGE His Guarded Heart (Prequel to His Darkened Heart)

Chapter 13 Homewards

"You are Aric, the very same monster you once feared."
___________

Chapter 13 Homewards

Krushem rode back to camp slowly, his mind reeling from his second interaction with Aric's "friend." The sack of gold Japeth gave him felt heavy in his pocket.

For a moment back there, Krushem had felt the barest hint of sorrow as he recalled Aric to Japeth. Then, he'd even had the stupidity to sympathize with Japeth over Aric's death. Emotions were weak! Aric would've said that sadness was for wimps. "Boys don't cry. Toughen up!" Aric would've said.

Krushem clenched his fist around the sack of gold in his pocket and opened the sack up to stare at the abundance of gold that laid within. He had no need to buy items of luxury. All he needed was a warm drink to fill his belly and quench his thirst.

Oh yes, a drink or two wouldn't hurt, now would it?

At the thought of a pint of beer, Krushem flicked the reins of his horse to quicken the pace. He reached the old, rickety, rundown building of "Kewinsky's Bar" in no time. The familiar whiff of sweat and meat and rum welcomed Krushem as he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Once inside, Krushem took a seat in the back and settled on ordering a warm glass of ale. He started to fidget as he awaited for his drink to be made, and when he finally got ahold of it, he felt a heavy sense of relief fall over him.

He took a big sip and the spicy and bitter taste of the ale exploded in his mouth. There was a trace of fruitiness in the ale too that Krushem liked. It wasn't long before he'd finished his first glass and then he'd ordered his second.

The more Krushem drank, the more his senses dulled. He lost track of the time, and the sounds and noises around him seemed to dull to a low murmur. The more he drank, the less cold he became. In fact, he could feel his body temperature rising with each sip he took.

Krushem consumed the ale like it would save him. He drank it in such abundance as if doing so would be beneficial to him in the long run. And yes, to Krushem, the alcohol wasn't all that bad.

To Krushem, the alcohol did save him and it was good to him. After all, it made him forget. It made his thoughts jumble up in a mess. Amongst the mess, he couldn't pick out all the things he'd suffered. The alcohol freed him from thinking about all he'd lost—his family, Aric, and everything in between.

So Krushem drank and drank like he did so often these days until the thought of his family and the thought of Aric faded away like an unremembered dream.

There was no more blood, no more pain, no more loss.

There was just the feeling of dullness, a feeling of heat that warmed Krushem from the inside out.

Krushem had already downed two more drinks after the first two and with his thirst not yet quenched, he demanded yet another drink. But the bartender refused his request; "You've had enough, young man. Get out. It's closing time."

But Krushem wasn't just gonna give in that easy. He just wanted one more drink. He wanted to feel the high as long as he could and ride it like an arrow flying through the air; free as a bird—as a raven!

"Ju—just gim—gimme one m—more," Krushem slurred to the bartender, lurching up from his seat to approach him. But he kept stumbling, his movements unsteady.

Krushem couldn't feel his own feet. He felt as if the floor was swaying beneath him and in fear of falling, he hugged the closest thing to him, which happened to be the waitress standing nearby.