Swords of Isadren (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Two: Wood

Asman did not end up sleeping throughout the night.

Around midnight, he woke to his shoulder sore and burning. He tried to go back to sleep but could not find a position that did not result in more pain.

Eventually, he became frustrated enough to sigh and snatch the fur from the ground before walking to the small tree that was growing singularly in the clearing.

When he was a boy, he would climb the trees just outside the village and stay there when he was upset.

After their father died, he had probably stayed in one of the trees outside Thamor for a few days on end, only coming down to use the restroom or when Sam became irritated enough to force him down to eat.

Now, it seemed perfectly logical to climb this tree and stay in it as long as he could before his 'captors' awoke.

It would have been easy to leave during the night. No one tied him or was watching him, so he just as easily could have ran off and did what he liked.

Asman had thought about it, but decided he was a tad bit frightened to go off in the woods during the night now. The tree was close enough to the few fires for Asman to be able to see the branches as he maneuvered his body up.

The pain in his shoulder was quickly becoming more of a nuisance than anything; a few short hisses at a particularly painful movement, or a pause when Asman felt a stitch pull was only a slight deterrent to climbing the branches.

He had only gone to the first large branch and the lowest. The tree was small enough that if he went further up the branches would have been too thin to stand on.

Asman exhaled lowly as he settled his right shoulder against the tree, the fur draped across his lap but doing hardly nothing to stifle the cold of the night.

He stared off for awhile, looking off at the fireflies that blinked against the long clearing grass.

It only took a short while after that for him to break down crying.

He was alone. Not only at the moment in the tree, but in general, he had no one left.

His mother, his father, his brother; all his family, and even the few friends he had, were all dead and not coming back.

Asman stifled his sobs with his hand, so if anyone awoke during the night, or was even still awake from before, they would not hear him drowning in sadness while sitting in a tree.

Before everything had happened, he would rarely think of such depressing things; but now al he could think about was how much he felt he should be dead along with his family.

Why was he the only one to survive? Were there anymore citizens that lived, or was he truly the last one of them?

It was not until he could see the moon through some of the lower branches that he finally could not cry anymore without fear of his skull bursting from pressure.

He had recounted every good or bad memory with his brother while crying, and eventually Asman let his sobs die down while his hand fell from his mouth.

The moon glistened against wet skin while he wiped the tears away; there was a calmness that fell over the land which calmed him enough to move on. The owls and foxes kept his ears listening while his heartbeat returned to a steady one.

Yet, even if he had exhausted all the terrible thoughts in his system, there was still much to think about.

Asman was never taught much in school; only the basics of mathematics and history. As a child he had a fondness for learning more about both the Feliasian and Isadrenian history.