The Blood-Red Tree

Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The Meeting


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The caramel blond-haired Gilbert stood in front of him. Those light pink lips, now wrinkled, were moving as he spoke with the villagers with a cheerful facade that somehow seemed alien. The face that was once clean had now been polluted with millions of tiny prickling dark hair that were his beard. He also looked bigger than he used to, more muscular. He had this aura around him that screamed the amount of hard work he must have done. Abner's eyes started searching the humanly frame that he had once thought he knew, in distress, hoping to find something, anything that looked familiar, and then he saw it as soon as Gilbert's eyes met his. Those eyes, those dark blue eyes, that he had once thought of drowning in, still looked as deep as ever. The anxiousness he had been feeling completely dissolved into nothingness. "Abner!" his brother called him, gasping for air.

 He turned his face in the direction of the voice. There, his brother stood entirely out of breath as sweat dripped from his chin.                                                                                                            "Why were you running that fast?" he asked, his voice, miserable.                                                   Abner just walked towards him and ruffled his hair. "Nothing", he answered as they both started walking towards home.                                                                                                                  Garrett, definitely not satisfied with the answer, jabbed Abner in his ribs, causing him to gasp. "I know why you ran", Garrett said teasingly with this creepy grin that lit his face. "Come here you little shit", Abner cried as Garrett broke out into a run while he giggled. 

"Mom! We're here", Garrett shouted as soon as he opened the door. "Good", Ada replied from somewhere in the kitchen, "Abner, do you breakfast as soon as you can. You have to go to your dad to train". The whole house was filled with the nutty and smoky aromas of coffee. There were also some notes of yeasty, toasted bread lingering in the air, masked by the more dominant scents. They both sat at the table and quickly started stuffing their mouths with the sourdough bread and the sunny-side-up egg that lay in front of them. They used piping hot coffee to swallow down all the chewed mass into their stomach.

Abner could feel how heavy the air was, mixed with the musky smell of his sweat and probably his dad's as well. Working as a swordsmith was not something that could be described as easy. The high temperatures and the raw physical strength this job required were definitely something not many would be fond of, and that was also the case with Abner. He just didn't find this interesting, but that definitely didn't mean he wasn't good at it. All of his thoughts subsided as he heard the water hiss. His father had just dipped a red pipping hot sword in water. "Abner, you know you have to have your mind present here in order to learn basically anything, right?" his dad asked mockingly. "I know; I'm sorry", he replied quickly, trying to concentrate on the sword that was getting ready to be hammered brutally. "Where is your mind these days?" his father asked in a deeply concerned voice. 'It's all GILBERT!!, I can't seem to get him out of my mind', he thought, but what came out was, "It's nothing, dad". He looked around the workplace and noticed the wood left; it was barely enough for two hilts. "Let me get some logs", he said as he took a cart and left the workplace. 

The sun was blazing strong over his head, and sweat from before clearly wasn't helpful at all. 'God, I hate summers', he said to himself. Abner journeyed towards the lumberjack in complete distress since he was basically melting. His mind was all over the place at that moment.                                        "The usual amount of logs, please", he said in misery while wiping his forehead using his long and already dripping sleeves.                                                                                                                  "And how much is the usual amount" an oddly familiar voice struck his eardrums, and for a second, he thought his heart had stopped. The voice he had heard just now wasn't that of the lumberjack. No, he could never forget this deep and weirdly sweet voice, ever. He darted his eyes towards the man standing there, Gilbert. "Oh... it-it's you...… Gilbert, right? The knight" he felt his throat constricting.                                                                                                                                    "Yeah, that's me", he answered with slightly curved lips, "And you are...…. Adam, no Abner, right?". "Yep", he replied, desperately trying to avoid eye contact of any sort. His fingers started tapping the cart handle in a rhythm as he felt his head slightly spinning.                                                              "So….. how much is the usual amount?" Gilbert asked with a slight awkwardness in his voice, "Brad isn't here right now so".                                                                                                                    "Um-mm…. Well, usually the whole cart is loaded", he said with a parched mouth.                             "Do you need a glass of water?" Gilbert asked, probably noticing the amount of sweat he was covered in.                                                                                                                                         "No I'm fine", Abner replied with a jolt, "Thank you, though".                                                         "Are you sure?" Gilbert asked again, clearly not satisfied with the answer.                                         "Yeah, I'm fine" his answer didn't change even though he could feel his throat begging for even a drop of water.                                                                                                                                     "O-kay", Gilbert uttered before moving toward the logs piled in the back and, one by one, started loading them up on the metal cart. Abner could see the veins popping in Gilbert's forearms as he picked up the pieces. He also noticed the small beads of sweat that had now started forming on Gilbert's forehead.                                                                                                                          When the whole cart had been crammed with wood, another offer came out of those beautiful lips, "Should I help you take the cart back.... because this thing looks pretty unmovable to me".         'Yeah, because you probably overfilled it', he answered, but just in his head, the words that left his quivering lips were the most predictable, "No. It's fine", he answered with a faint smile.                                               "You sure do love to refuse, don't you?", Gilbert said in a sarcastic tone.                                                 'And you sure do love to offer help to…. basically everyone', he scratched his head a bit as he chuckled nervously. Refusing the help had been the easy part; moving the thing in front him was the difficult part. Had the cart been a four-wheeler, he would've easily accomplished this task, but the cart that stood there only had a single wheel. Abner cleared his already clear throat and proceeded to try the impossible. And just as expected, he couldn't do it. The moment Abner stopped trying, Gilbert was there beside him, holding the cart, balancing its weight on that single wheel and proceeding the short but painful journey. Yeah, that was the person he knew; even if he was now wearing the facade of a strong, powerful and stern man, he was still the same from the inside. Always helping everyone and anyone in distress. 

Abner laid on the mattress beside Garrett, hoping to fall asleep, but his mind simply refused to. His thoughts kept dragging him back towards his little encounter with Gilbert. The big and powerful man, the sweet and caring gentleman. His mind kept reminding him of the awkward conversation he had with him, how he had stuttered with his words, how he felt butterflies in his stomach when Gilbert helped him carry the cart and how he loved that man with every bit of himself. Soon he realized that sleep just wasn't going to be on his schedule tonight, so he got up from his bed and crept outside his house to breathe in some fresh air.

 As soon as the night's cold air touched his delicate skin, he felt his body shiver, but that didn't force him back to the shelter. There had always been something inside him that had never been afraid of the cold but embraced it. He strolled outside for a bit before, just like always, he found himself being drawn to the forest. He hesitated a bit before marching towards those familiar trees. 

He could hear the owls hooting in the distance and the crickets chirping as he saw everything being lit up under the dazzling light of the moon. These little moments had always helped put his mind at ease. The moment he reached the forest, he heard a small yet odd sound enter his ears. 'A human, no, it could not be. It must be an animal' He trod softly ahead, keeping his eyes and his ears open and then he heard it again; he darted his eyes towards the propagation of the sound and saw Gilbert, with his head looking upwards, as a girl sat down in front of him on her knees. Then he heard the sound again, escaping Gilbert's quivering lips.


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