The Fletcher's Son

[Mongrel]

Kinny Fletcherson woke slowly. He kept his eyes closed as he licked his lips, tasting the sticky film that had developed there in his sleep. His dream had been miraculous; so much so that he had no desire to waken. He wanted to go right back to his dream.

He had been flying high in the night sky above Myrken Wood. He had done flips and raced owls and even flew so close to the surface of Silver Lake that he had split the surface with his index finger as he soared past, causing a rippling wake to flow behind him.

It had felt so vivid. So real. He could almost feel the wind in his hair still.

The lad's tongue paused on his lips. He could still feel the wind in his hair.

Slowly the twelve year old son of the Myrkentown arrowsmith blinked his eyes open, cracking the sandy seal of sleep that had so delicately held his eyelashes together. He stared at the haze that surrounded him--it was like a fog, damp and gray in the night. He rolled to look the other direction, but he had no leverage, no traction.

There was no bed. No ground. Nothing beneath him.

Then, as if on cue, the wisp of cloud parted and faded, disintegrating into nothingness and Kinny was able to look down upon his home on the outskirts of Myrkentown.

I...I'm flying. I can fly!

He rotated in the air and shot down toward Myrkentown, weaving and circling as he went. He flowed through the air as if he had been doing it all of his life. He had to show Bonner, Haw, and Gelbert. They would never believe this.

He angled in the night sky and crossed over the top of Myrkentown, heading toward Gelbert Ustertop's home. All three boys were spending the night at Gelbert's. Kinny knew this because his father had forbidden Kinny to go because he had thrown an arrowhead at his younger sister, Vivia, two days prior.

Kinny flew to the second story window of the Ustertop residence and hovered in midair five paces from the glass, his arms crossed, looking as if he were merely standing there.

"Gelbert! Haw! Bonner! Come to the window!" The young boy had no idea what time it was. His friends were most certainly asleep, but they just had to see this! "Gelbert! WAKE UP!" It took only a moment for the window to swing open and for Bonner's ginger-topped head to pop out.

"What are you doing here, Kinny? You're going to get in trouble," the lad yawned. In his sleepy daze, Bonner had failed to remember what floor he was on and clearly didn't notice that his friend was standing on air.

Kinny grinned, the moon shining off of his teeth. "To show you THIS!"

Like a rocket the boy launched into the sky, flying straight up toward the stars.

Bonner's jaw dropped so low it almost hit the windowsill. "Blood and Ashes," he yelled as he leaned out the window to watch his friend. "Haw! Gelbert! Wake up! You have to see Kinny! He can fly!"

The two tired boys slowly crawled to the window to see what Bonner was shouting about. It only took a moment before they too were gawking out the window at their friend's dancing and turning in the night sky.

When the sun started to rise on the horizon, Kinny knew he had to be home. His father would hide his backside raw if he woke to find Kinny's bed empty. Plus, the boy just had to see his friends tomorrow to show off his newfound talent. So home he went, racing like an arrow loosed from a bow, and was home safely in bed before the cock tried its darndest to wake Myrkentown.

[Mongrel]

It was his third day of flight and Kinny Fletcherson found it wonderful still. It was a dark time in Myrken Wood, dark as any he’d experienced in his short life. But, somehow being able to fly helped him to escape it. He could feel the air getting warmer, a choking heat that only suffocated him more when he had flown above the fires. He had only done that once and wouldn’t again.

At night he had taken to hovering above the trees, lying there as if he were sleeping upon an invisible bed of clouds. It seemed that this was the only place to catch a cool breeze that could somewhat quell the warmth of the past few days.

He was famous among the children. Certainly they spoke of the sword and the monsters and the fires, but this was all minor for some reason. The topic of the moment for the children was that Kinny could fly. He had given Bonner and Gelbert rides on his shoulders and many children had offered a shilling or two for a chance to ride as well.

The truth is, it was all so much safer and happier and more peaceful high above Myrkentown. You could not hear the bickering of the goodwives or the talk of sickness, sorrow, or death. What Myrken Wood needed was good news. It was time for happiness.

Flying made Kinny Fletcherson happy and it made his friends happy. Why couldn’t it make all of Myrken Wood happy?

He was certain that it could and he was determined to try.

[Mongrel]

Kinny woke early and ran through the winding roads that led to the square. People were starting to stir, speaking to one another in hushed voices over steaming cups of morning drink. Arnos Butcher busied himself plucking a chicken; two more lied beside it, bare to the world and ready to be strung by their feet for sale. More still shuffled nervously in the coops behind him.

Though some vendors and farmers refused to sell their wares at market this day, it would probably only increase the number of people who wished to purchase, for some feared that they would not be able to find food and goods, if the market began to dry up.

The fletcher's son turned away from the butcher and his flock to look upon the Chapel of St. Iona. The lad smiled and ran across the square toward the large building, then he circled around the back. It was of the utmost importance that no one sees him. Yet.

When the coast was clear he flew up the stone wall to the roof of the chapel. He scampered across the stone without fear of falling. He stopped at the base of the large central steeple and sat, waiting for the crowd to gather for market.

---

He didn't remember falling asleep, but when he woke, the market was open. Trade was not heavy, but a fair number of people were in the square. Kinny flew even higher to perch upon the very top of the steeple, his small fingers holding on to the metal Crusorbis that decorated it.

He positioned himself in front of the ornate decoration of the One True Faith and smiled down at the square. It was time.

"Hey, everyone! Look up here! Look at me!" They would love his ability to fly as much as his friends did. Today would be the happy day to break the long string of so many sad. "Up here! I have something to show you all!"

It wasn't until his fourth attempt that Bea Kanaya caught sight of the lad, perched so precariously upon the top of the chapel. Her heart skipped a beat and she gasped. "Oh, faith! Someone, come quick! There's a boy on the steeple!"

Reaction from those around her was immediate. Heads turned to the top of the chapel, hands raised to block the midday sun so to make out the boy who was up there. Voices began to call out to the boy in unison.

"Come down from there! It's too dangerous," called one. "You'll get yourself killed," shouted another.

It took but a moment for him to be recognized as the fletcher's son and soon the crowd called to him by name, begging young Kinny to come down safely from the Chapel of St. Iona.

"Wait, wait, please!" Kinny tried so desperately to get himself heard over the growing crowd. "It's okay, you see! I can fly!"

The statement filtered through the mass and it only fueled concern. He meant to jump!

Haw and Bonner weaseled their way through the crowd to spy their friend upon the top of the steeple. Their matching grins turned to the crowd as well. "No, it's okay, everyone! It's true! He can fly!" They tried to reason with the adults, but they were merely pawed at and told to be silent.

There was only one way to prove to the people of Myrkentown that Kinny Fletcherson could fly. That much was clear.

So, with a smile on his face, Kinny unwound his fingers from the rusty metal of the Crusorbis. He bent his knees and leapt out from the chapel.

A collective gasp gripped the crowd. Some closed their eyes for they could not bear to watch the lad. Others could not pull their gaze away from the boy as he plummeted toward the ground.

Kinny floundered in the air as his ability to fly failed him for the first time. His arms windmilled and legs kicked as if trying to swim through the air, but to no avail. The sound the boy made when he hit the flagstones was like that of a cantaloupe thrown against a wall. With a hollow thud and some subtle cracks, it was over and Kinny Fletcherson was but a broken heap, dead upon the church's steps.

The crowd reacted as crowds do. Some women fainted. Some men tried to calm those gathered, while others moved to the boy. Women pushed men out of the way to see if they could help that which they did not know was already gone. Children were taken away from the horror--amongst them, Bonner and Haw with looks of dismay upon their faces.

And as the crowd reacted to the devastating incident, a single cloaked figure walked away, leaving behind a message written in charcoal upon the wall. It was but a single word.

BELIEVE