Mannat felt heavy in the pit of his stomach as the cart traveled down the road, spreading a cloud of dirt in the air behind them. A relatively cold current was blowing through the woods, cutting through his skin and entering into his heart.

It distracted him; reminding him of the night Pandit and he drove the cart out into the night with his mother in the back. The memory was sad and nostalgic and fresh as a sore wound. His life had completely changed in the few days since then. Mannat wasn’t angry but disappointed.

The village was only a short distance apart from the clearing, and traveling by the cart only made it shorter. Since the road cut directly through the woods there was always a possibility of being attacked by wild animals. Mannat wasn’t afraid of this detail; He was expectant instead. It wasn’t long before his father’s voice pulled him out into the reality of a world slowly getting swallowed by darkness.

“There, do you see it?” Raesh pointed slightly ahead on the road where the dirt was ruffled and covered in a dark shiny patch.

“The boar jumped at us from the right.” Raesh pointed with his chin. “It announced its arrival and rushed out of the woods, shrieking and spearing through the bushes. I heard it and pulled the reins, just in time as it charged toward us, missed narrowly, and disappeared in the bushes on the other side of the road. It was aiming for Bhadur’s legs as I told you before.”

Mannat stared at the patch of dark blood on the road, imagining the scenes as his father retold the story, and found his heartbeat rising.

“I stopped and got off—“

Mannat interrupted. “Why didn’t you kept going?”

“…Because it would have followed us, and try to harm Bhadur. It was clearly out for blood. Perhaps, the hunters took her kids. I can only imagine. They tend to go crazy to protect their kids, and are known to keep grudges.”Raesh turned silent after saying his piece.

Mannat moved about on the seat to get comfortable. His father seemed to have lost interest in the story, but he wanted to know the rest of it. “Then what happened?” He asked. He had put some power behind his voice and Raesh almost pull the reins.

“What?” He asked with muddled eyes.

Mannat reminded him about the story and Raesh started talking again. “It came back. I was thinking of scaring her away, but she had her eyes set on us and I had to kill it.”

Raesh wrapped up the story and moved his eyes back to the road.

Do all the stories end abruptly? Mannat thought for a moment before shaking his head. I guess no one likes to talk about death.

He looked back at the rapidly retreating sight and the dark patch on the road. A proud mother had fallen there, but no one other than them would remember her. It was impossible to know about the fate of her kids. They could still be out there in the wild, waiting for her return. The thought made Mannat solemn.

He exhaled his feelings out into the wind to let them roam the world. Perhaps, they could find the pups and apologize to them.

It was a cruel world.

Soon, the village buildings started budding on the other side of the road. Only a few lanterns glowed in the wooden homes. Oil was not cheap, but animal fat was readily available because of the uncontrollable number of wild animals in the woods. The other regions had their rocks, minerals, and metal, and they had their timber.

Mannat grew nervous the closer they approached the village. There weren’t any large arches or gates welcoming their return. In the name of the entryway was a dirt road that skirted mud houses and small naked children. Mannat was also a kid, but he didn’t feel like one. This was a difference brought by his job. Not everyone could be a blacksmith, or a tailor, a hunter, or a cobbler. There were as many laborers in the village as there were farmers.

Soon, the sound of instruments and drums entered his ears. People and shadows mingled together further down the road. He was back in the village, and nothing had changed in the past week. Only Mannat felt the world was no longer the same.

“Where are you taking us?” Mannat asked when Raesh took the central road, instead of going around to the residential area.

“We are going to the butchers first. I will get the boar handled, and you can meet your friend.” Mannat drew silent and it wasn’t hidden from his father.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Mannat answered, but the quiet behind his words told a different story. His heart was empty and his mind was full. Raesh could see at a glance what perturbed the boy.

Raesh smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. Mannat didn’t stop him and his eyes shook when his father said, “You are a good friend.”

People congested the road leading to the butchery. Raesh’s workshop was also on the same road. Mannat did notice some people staring at them, kids pointing fingers and whispering to each other.

Mothers pulled their young kids away from their cart when they passed them. They weren’t afraid of the cart, but them.

“Stay away from the freak.” He heard one mother teach her kid daughter who vigorously nodded in return. However, she still secretly stole glances of him passing by. It would be wrong to say their behavior didn’t affect Mannat. He was thoughtful, not cold-hearted; his great intelligence and wisdom made him so. He had an inkling this might happen, and the result didn’t disappoint him. It did, actually; it definitely did.

Mannat stared at the closed doors of the smithy. He had worked there for a year and knew everything about it. Usually, the chimney above would be smoking at the time, but that day it was silent and lonely. The building almost looked abandoned, but the clean porch told him his father had kept his promise. He was not going to ask the man, he would know the same anyway in the morning. Why would he make things awkward between them for no reason?

Pandit’s butchery was just up ahead. It only took them a moment to reach it. Raesh pulled the reins before the shop, and Bhadur slowly came to halt in front of the open door. The building wasn’t any different from the smithy. Mannat had been inside countless times in the past. They both jumped off the cart. Mannat offered help to carry the boar inside the shop. Raesh heard him and gave him a sly smirk. He went to the back and easily picked the boar over his shoulder and went inside the shop. Mannat was left dumbfounded. Then what was that at the clearing? Raesh didn’t actually need his help. Mannat couldn’t help smiling though. His father had fooled him.

Inside the butchery, there was a counter at the front and Raesh laid the boar to rest upon it. The counter didn’t even creak from the weight. Made from sturdy wood, it could take the weight of three cows, what was a small boar in comparison? Mannat pressed the bell, which called out a sharp hammering sound. The bell was nothing special but a cup, a hammer, and a spring. He knew because he was the one who created it after their last one broke. It took him half an hour to make one. He liked it enough to make a couple more for himself.

Pandit came striding to the front upon hearing the bell. He wore a black apron that had barely visible dark patches coloring it in places. “Yes. How can I help--” He started in a practiced manner then saw Mannat and became speechless. He stood stunned behind the counter.

He glanced at Raesh, the boar on the counter before his eyes came back to stare at Mannat. They slowly turned red and when he spoke, a hoarse sound came from his throat. “You escaped the Witch?” He said and sniffed. His nose was starting to leak as did his emotions.

“How are you?” Mannat asked back, clenching his fist. Pandit rubbed his face on the folded arms of his shirt to clear the wetness from his eyes and smiled the largest grin possible. His lips curled up from ear to ear and teeth became visible. Pandit raised his arms to the side and gave his friend a twirl, earning a snort from Mannat. Raesh shook his head at the boy's antics, but he was also grinning. Pandit was fine, that was the most important thing.

“Did you get my message?” Pandit suddenly faced him and said.

Mannat’s forehead creased and the smile froze on his face.

“I wasn’t joking.” The boy said holding the grin; his ears followed his eyes and turned red.

He was alive and safe. Mannat was finally relieved. He didn’t know since when but he had been holding his breath. Seeing the same old grin on that familiarly old face… he could finally have peace. He was afraid to show up at the butchery, wondering if his friend would also call him a freak like the villagers. He was emotionally very stable, but the pain of breaking up with his only friend wouldn’t have been any lower than seeing his mother unconscious on the bed.

However, everything was all right. They were still friends. The accident and his actions hadn’t torn them apart. Mannat smiled and reached out to shake Pandit’s hand. “Thanks for everything.” He said. Pandit shook his hand, felt something wrong, then jumped over the counter and hugged him tightly.

Suddenly, a heavy, angry voice came from the back of the shop. “Are you cooking the meat for the customer? Why is it taking so long? You better return now or I’ll see how you go hunting tomorrow with your father.” It was Gande voice, and she was angry. Pandit shook and jumped back. The two separated.

Pandit’s face had lost all color. He hurriedly waved them goodbye and ran to the back room. A few seconds later, the father-son pair heard a loud ‘what’ and then rumbling footsteps approached them from the dark corridor. Gande appeared out of the darkness, saw Raesh, noticed the boar, and then her eyes stopped at Mannat and opened wide in shock.

“You are back!” She yelled in enthusiasm and hugged Mannat lightly. She quickly let him go. She, however, held his hands and earnestly apologized.

“Forgive me, son. I never thought the Witch would ask you to give up blacksmithing. If I hadn’t opened my big fat mouth and foolishly swayed you, then you wouldn’t have gone to her. I— I have harmed you. I hope you can forgive me.”

Mannat didn’t understand her thoughts at first, then remembered the night he had eavesdropped on her conversation with his father. He wouldn’t have known the Witch could save his mother if he hadn’t heard her. In a way, she was responsible for Mannat’s actions. Mannat wanted to convince her otherwise, but his father was faster.

“You have apologized enough, Gande. I have said it before and will say it again, ‘you did what you thought was right.’ It was the boy’s choice and I’m proud of him.” Raesh said, but Gande shook her head.

“No, my lack of knowledge almost separated you both. I don’t know how to face you—”

Mannat interrupted her by putting his free hand on top of the hand she was holding. He got her attention. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say, but took a cold breath to collect his thoughts and realized, he was not good at making speeches.

“You don’t have to feel bad.” He started slowly, measuring his words. “The witch—she isn’t as bad as the villagers make her out to be. I have learned a lot from her. And she’s keeping my mother safe.”

“Is she awake?”

Mannat shook his head and Gande tightened her grip.

“No, she is still unconscious, but her condition has stabilized,” Mannat said. He was watching her hand. It was at least thrice the size of his limb and had completely swallowed his hand. He could imagine the amount of strength they could produce. He had seen her cut through cow bones with her cleaver in a couple of swings. Nonetheless, she held his hand so gently he could not feel any strength behind her grip. She was the opposite of his father. His father's hug could crush bones and he didn’t like holding back; while Gande was barely holding him, as if afraid to hurt him.

Warmth filled his chest.

He reassured her, “I’ll do my best to wake my mother. No, I will wake her. I just need some time. Father is right. You don’t have to apologize. Instead, I should thank you for letting me know. I don’t know what could have happened if I hadn’t taken my mother to the Witch. So thank you. You saved us.”

Gande wanted to refute, but the bright smile on Mannat’s face and the nod from his father forced her to accept the thanks.

She let his hand go and said, “You are a good kid,” Mannat nodded and agreed, causing the two adults to share a look and laugh aloud.

The conversation entered a lull. Then Pandit returned and asked her if he should take the boar. Finally, she noticed the animal on the counter and her eyes lit up. “Where did you get this?” She said approaching it and started inspecting the boar. Since she didn’t have 'Inspect' to check its condition, she did it the old-fashioned way—by feeling. She checked the boar's orifices, its eyes, and limbs, nodding in between while Raesh told her the story.

Finally, she turned back to them and said, “What a great catch. I haven’t seen such a magnificent boar in years. It must have been a tough one to kill.” She put two fingers in the stab wound and said shaking her head. “You killed it so cleanly. The weapon completely destroyed her heart. She probably died on the spot.” “Yeah, she was wounded, angry, and tired.”

“About that,” Gande flapped the skin over the long gash and checked the depth of the wound, thinking and shaking her head. “It wasn’t done by anyone from our village.”

“How do you know?” Mannat asked in interest. She was inspecting the boar without using the skill. This would be a great lecture from a lifetime butcher.

Gande didn’t hold back either. “Firstly, you have to know, of the ten hunters of our village, seven hunts with bow and arrow.” Mannat eyes shone. Of course, he knew. Besides working around the smithy, dealing with customers was what he did in his first year in the smithy. Hunters were regular customers. Gande continued. “Of the other three, one uses a cleaver, one has a short spear and the last one uses a small hunting knife. This wound was made by neither of them.”

Raesh raised a brow and said, “You think people from other villages are invading our territory?”

Gande shrugged her shoulder. “Poachers, it’s definitely them.” She paused, then told Pandit, “Let your father look into it.”

She slapped the boar’s stomach, looked into her bloodshot eyes, and cursed the poachers in disgust.

“I bet she was angry. She’s still lactating; her cubs must have barely been a month old. You are lucky to have met her in a depleted state. Wild boars can be very mean when angry.” She told them, and especially stared at her son, teaching him about her side of the business. Pandit dropped his head in response. There was a story there, and Mannat was sure he would know later. Pandit, his loud-mouthed friend, didn’t have the stomach for secrets.

“Let’s talk business,” Gande said. “She deserved to be served on the high table as a whole. I have not seen such a magnificent quality boar in years. It will fetch quite a generous prize if you sell it uptown.”

She told Raesh, who denied it without thinking. She was edging him, but he didn’t care about a little money.

“I invite you to dinner tonight.” He said, and Gande also refused in a heartbeat.

“That won’t do.” She said. “It’ll be a waste to not cook her for four days and three nights on low fire. That’s how you’ll bring the best out of her.”

“That’s too long; the boy’s only back for the night.”

“Then bring the meat to him after it's done coking.” Gande ended the argument. Really, no man was a match for her. If he wanted to cook it for that long, then that’s how it would be done. She didn’t leave them hanging, however. She proposed, “We’ll come over tonight with a pot of curry lamb, and you can have the boar in a few days, all right?”

“Yes, Madam,”

That was the end of the argument. While the two adults talked about other things, Pandit grabbed Mannat’s arm and pulled him to the side.

He asked him seriously. “You know, I still don’t understand what happened out there that night.”

Mannat jumped up. He didn’t want to talk about it there, so he changed the topic. “Come tonight and I’ll tell you.”

“So it’s a party.”

“There will only be the four of us. It’s a get-together.”

Pandit rolled his eyes at him. “That’s what a party is, brother. Don’t you even know that?” He asked then remembered whom he was talking to. He slapped his forehead and smirked. “That’s right. You were committed to your damsel and didn’t get to learn about other ways of living.” Pandit was poking fun, but his expressions hardened when he saw Mannat's reaction.

Taken aback, he hurriedly interrupted Raesh and his mother to ask, “Sir, are you sure he’s the same boy?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I mean… he’s blushing.” Pandit raised his arms to get Mannat in the spotlight and the boy blushed harder. Pandit said in worry. “I can only hope the Witch didn’t show him the ropes because that would be just plain awful.”

Forget about Raesh, his mama wasn’t so keep about the remark. “You are one sick kid, you know?” She said. “Get home. I’ll show you which rope and what’s awful.”

Mannat expected to see his friend slapped silly, but Gande surprisingly held her hands back. However, she did promise to teach the boy a lesson, and Pandit’s face didn’t recover from the fear of the tragedy waiting for him.

That night, Gande and Pandit arrived at Mannat’s home at half-past eight for a get-together, or a party, as Pandit refused to call it the former word. They brought a large pot of lamb curry. It was a delicious meal, especially so for Mannat; he had been living on charred and half-cooked meat and roasted sweet vegetables for the last week.

The two guests stayed until the late night before saying goodnight. The boys made a promise to meet in the morning to jog together, and only Mannat and Raesh remained sitting at the table.

The two sat in silence, and the lamp radiated a dull orange light between them. Suddenly Raesh spoke, “I have to tell you something.”

Mannat gave him his attention.

Raesh paused to settle his thoughts and said, “The old farmer Sardar broke our arrangement.” The words shocked Mannat. Although he had seen the signs, he didn’t think… the thought never came to his mind.

He instantly found himself thinking about the old woman in the story. Like her, fate played with him for a while then left him standing in the middle of nowhere. There were no footholds round, only pits; and he falls into darkness no matter what he chooses.

A bitter smile floated over Mannat’s face, but Raesh wasn’t done taking.

“Do you like the girl?” He asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Then what’s with that bitter smile? Are you disappointed?”

Mannat didn’t answer. He looked across, out the window that looked at the vine growing on their fence. The vine was seven feet tall. It had aged much faster than him. Although he could barely see its silhouette in the dark, he could imagine the colored flowers growing on the vine swaying in the wind. Only a few leaves and lowers manage to hold in strong wind, while most get taken away.

“You didn’t answer me.” The heavy voice pulled Mannat’s gaze back inside the home and at his father, but he didn’t look any better than before.

“What can I do when the parents have decided? Anyways, I don’t know how I feel about her, or anything else for that matter. I want her to be happy, but she won’t be happy with me. You heard it too, didn’t you? The whole village calls me a freak.”

“It was a few women—“

“That’s the same thing. I--” Mannat gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. “I just don’t want that kind of life for her.”

“Are you giving up?” Raesh asked looking at the unopened bottle of ale in front of him. Perhaps, it was time to share his past with the boy.

“What else can I do?” Mannat said.

“You can elope with her. That’s what we did. There are many options to choose if the parents don—”

There was a bang as Mannat kicked the chair back and stood up-- he didn’t actually kick the chair, it just kind of fell back. “Wait! You eloped with mother! How come I never knew about this?”

“There was no chance to tell you,” Raesh said picking up the bottle. It was warm to his touch. Made of dark glass, its contents were barely visible in the lantern light. Concisely speaking, it was cheap liquor. When he bought it, he was drunk out of his mind. Whatever the case, it would have to do for the occasion.