Cockerel Chapter 1 "Pouched"

It was a day like any other in Anumun. Chep was already out the door before the sun crept over the horizon and bathed the fields of Finkeldel with its warm embrace. Chep trekked down the sparse field of corn, the morning dew slowly seeping through his shoes with every step. He finally came to the end of the crops, now he can finally see the barbed wire fence stretching into the distance, towards the western forest. Being the responsible 13-year-old he was, he tossed his bag of tools on the ground to rest his head on while he napped. Chep convinced himself it would be easier work if he waited for day light. Meanwhile, he would let the crickets and the occasional bird singing lull him into a sleep.

“Wake up! Help me! We have to go! A voice beckoned him, the voice getting louder the closer the snapping vegetation got. Chep sat up and squinted, his eyes trying to adjust to the light, his hand raised to block the sun. The source of the commotion latched onto his hand and started dragging him with a hard sudden tug. He barely got a hold of his bag before he was brought to his feet, where they hit the ground running.

Hair tickled his faced as he was led at a full sprint, trying to shake the fog from his mind. Soon he realized it was Mistee, a neighbor, who had dramatically woken him from his slumber. “What’s this about Mistee? What the hell is going on?” She made a sharp left turn, taking them into the concealment of the wheat. Where they both took a knee. With a look of pure dread, Mistee told Chep in between gasps for air “This morning I went to feed the chickens, I saw a goblin and a man pulling a cart of our chickens away! When they noticed me, the goblin kept going towards the forest with the cart and the man came after me!”

Chep slowly poked his head out of the crops and looked either way down the clearing. “You must have lost them; I don’t see him anywhere.” He turned back to Mistee, her face buried in her hands quietly sobbing, her shoulders and head bouncing uncontrollably. Chep took a knee and put his hand on her shoulder to comfort her. As the heaving shoulders died down, Cheps anger began to rise. Mistee’s watery eyes were wide open when she looked up to Chep’s. “He’s near.”

Mistee pulled Chep’s arm making him go prone along side her, both not even three feet from the end of the crops, looking towards the clearing and fence. Chep’s pounding heart almost drowned out the steps of the man on the other side of the barbed wire fence. The man was bald wearing loose robes and tattered pants, armed with a goblins dagger. Time had slowed to a crawl as did the mystery man’s pace. He smelled the air and immediately turned his gaze to the crops where the two were hiding. He approached the fence getting ready to grab the top wire to climb over when a strong breeze blew. The crops swayed and the man’s robes blew open, exposing a brand on his chest. The brand Lyvervia gave to murders.

The strong wind sustained its power, kicking up dust and rustling the crops. Even when it died down, dirt still lingered in the air. The barely visible mystery man can be seen covering his face with his robes and jogging east away from the still prone Chep and Mistee. After some time and the dust settled down Chep escorts Mistee to her home. Like Chep, Mistee lives in a small, disheveled home which may even be mistaken for a shed. Outside it were Mistee’s brothers, one older and one younger picking up tree limbs from around the house, put there from the strong gust of wind earlier.

Jared, the younger brother, dropped all the limbs he was carrying and ran towards them ecstatically. Screeching something incoherently about the wind as he closed the distance. Luther, the older brother, went to collect Jared’s discarded limbs, looking annoyed. “Mistee where have you been? We haven’t had breakfast yet waiting for you to get back with the eggs!” Mistee walked right past him, continuing to go inside and speak with her mother. Jared latched onto Chep’s leg holding him in place while he began his interrogation. “Where were you guys? What did you do to my sister? It looks like she was crying.” Chep stood their silent, almost thankful Jared had detained him. After the ungrounding had taken both families fathers, Mistee’s mother was never the same. Mostly despondent, the only time he heard her speak after the ungrounding was when she accused Chep of bringing it to their family.

Chep’s father was the first to show symptoms, Mistee’s father soon after. Despite Mistee’s mother, Helen’s, attempts at remedying it with magic both fathers simply faded into nothing, foreshadowing the fate of the families they left behind. Sounds of clattering cookware and screaming can be heard coming from the house. Shortly followed by Mistee running out the door to the base of the large tree they had in their front yard. Chep broke free of Jared’s grasp just to be stopped by Luther’s hand on his chest. “Tell me what the hell is going on before I beat it out of you.” Knowing Luther had him outmatched physically, Chep told him bluntly “The chickens were stolen and a murderer was chasing your sister”. The news had rendered Luther into a statue and Chep managed to get passed him and to Mistee before he recovered.

Mistee said with a deep sigh “That was our main food source, without those eggs and meat I don’t know how we will survive.” “Mistee” Chep said, taking a knee, “I’m so sorry this happened, I am going to find the bastards that did this, and they will pay.” “If you’re going, you’re not going alone” she said wiping her cheeks. Chep began to protest when Luther slapped him on the back of the head. “Neither of you are going alone, you’ll get yourselves killed.” Jared leaped into the middle of them and chimed in with a shriek “adventure!”. Luther pushed Jared to his ass, “not for you”.

Chep had walked back to his home, some vegetables in hand he picked from the garden. He set them on the table for his mother to eat. His father dead, his mother practically a ghost. Chep never actually saw her eat, but occasionally the food was gone when he woke in the morning. It was agreed that tomorrow morning Chep, Mistee and Luther would meet at the chicken coop just before sunrise and set out to track the thieves. He laid in bed feeling angry, restless and something he did not want to admit, excited.

It was a day like any other in Anumun. Chep was already out the door before the sun crept over the horizon, but today he was on the precipice of a bold endeavor. An adventure, one where if he knew what was in store, he may not have gone. Chep gathered farm tools he thought would make suitable weapons. A scythe, machete, rope and his tool bag filled with food. He stood in the doorway and took a lingering stare at his mother still in bed, might as well have the ungrounding herself. The vegetables he had put on the table still there. He did not know why but the thought “I hope she’ll forgive me” crossed his mind as he crossed the threshold. Chep walked through the crops, running his fingers through the top of the wheat, inhaling as deep as he could, wanting to take in as much home as he could before he left it.