Friday 11 November 2016

Year 1 - The Perfect Story - Kim Wildish

Yusuf awoke quickly to sounds of spluttering and hacking coughs, sat bolt upright he looked around the camp. Across the dim fire he could make out the shape of Klein on his back and shaking violently, upon closer inspection he was able to make out the dark shades of red flowing from his mouth; Yusuf, without hesitation, threw his bedroll aside and ran around the smouldering embers to his friend. He hit the ground running and slid to Klein’s side, he grabbed him tightly, pushing and rolling him over on to his side away from him in one fluid motion. Yusuf watched until whatever bile, blood or blight stopped flowing from Klein’s mouth, gently patting and rubbing his companions back until he was sure it was all gone. Once the stream had halted from its last trickles, he delicately pulled Klein back and sat cross-legged beside him. Though the fire was almost out, the moon was full and light was pouring in to the clearing where their party had decided to set up camp – Unfortunately for Yusuf, this made it so he was able to see more than he would have liked of his friend. Or what was left of him, at least. Trails of blood over his skin, black stains of Blight amongst his matted furs, the fresh white bandages they had put over his arm wound only hours earlier had taken on a colour and odour Yusuf didn’t even want to contemplate. Despite cauterizing the wound within seconds of cutting off the forearm, it seemed the corruption had already set about at eating him away. Klein’s breathing was ragged and harsh – Though that was a common thing over the last week, Yusuf put it down to the asphyxiation this time. He took one more look over his friend, not analysing his condition this time, but simply looking and remembering everything he could about him. He’d been doing it a lot over the past few days. He would remember how he would push over trees for them to cross rivers, how he would grapple with Giants, how he would swing Dragons around by their tails. Throughout their adventures their little party had seen plenty of death and caused some of it too, but this is the first time the thought of it happening had made Yusuf want to actually be sick. He could 
feel something rising in him, and he was sure it wasn’t just the smell of festering wounds.

“Goin’ to sit there all night, kid?” Klein said gruffly.

Yusuf’s eyes snapped quickly from his body to his face. Despite his tone, Klein’s expression was soft – it was uniquely him. Yusuf was glad, though he probably wouldn’t say it, that even during everything Klein was able to remain the same.

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to choke to death in your sleep. I’m really sorry about that.” He replied, sarcastically.

Klein laughed and let out a terrible hacking cough that rang through the forest. Behind them, across the ash and embers, Preta stirred in her sleep. Yusuf slowly turned his head towards her and contemplated waking her up.

“Don’t do it.” Klein said after he had recovered. Yusuf turned back to him as Klein was wiping grime from his face, leaving a black stain from the corner of his mouth to his cheek. With a shake of his head, he continued. “Disgusting… But seriously, leave her be. If these are my final moments, I’d like them to at least be peaceful.” Yusuf could agree with him there, but his words still bothered him.

“Final moments, eh?” Yusuf looked to the ground and started pulling at grass like a child. “Aren’t you scared?”

Klein sighed and used his arm to pull himself into a sitting position, simply attempting to sit upright took a lot out of him causing sweat to gleam off his torso. He waved his stump in Yusuf’s direction.

“Was I scared when I asked you to hack off my arm? What’s the point in being scared?” He slumped back down onto his back. He wasn’t able to hold his weight anymore. “We’re all going to die eventually, you aren’t that much of a child. Even you know that.”

“You could still fight a while longer, there may be help in the next town.” Yusuf said hoarsely, almost pleading.

Klein spoke grimly. “What is the point? I am weak, Yusuf. As you just saw, I can barely hold myself up. I can’t fight anymore.” He reached to his stump and held it for a moment before resting his arm on his chest. When Klein opened his mouth, he spoke decisively. “Besides… I would get to see my 
son again, no?”

A small jolt shot through Yusuf, like an arrow in the heart. This was Klein’s decision, it appeared. Nothing Yusuf would say could change his mind now. All he was able to manage was simply, “Okay.” As he looked to his companion, a small smile crept in the corners of his mouth. His determination remained, he was still the same man he had always been. Though the body was weak, he remained strong. So, what if he could no longer rip the arms off of Giants? He never could, not really.

“Thank you, friend.” Klein said softly, with a small smile. “Now, tell me how it happens.”

“How what happens?” Yusuf asked with a quizzical mien.

“How do I die? And don’t give me that look. We have travelled together for a fair while now. I’ve watched you sing songs of victories, tell stories of great tragedies and even a few comedy routines, with great enjoyment despite the ‘embellishments’ you add. You’re a bard who is good at his craft. Tell me, how does my story end?” Klein asked happily, with a smile spreading across his face as he looked towards his friend. This was the widest he had smiled since he had succumbed to this corruption.

Yusuf couldn’t help but feel his smile widening at Klein’s enthusiasm. Even if it was over a story of his death. “Well, how do you want it to go?” Yusuf asked, sitting straighter and talking with more pep.

“Perhaps a Giant or maybe a Dragon?” Klein said, putting his arm behind his head to get comfortable.

“Dragons aren’t that common.” Yusuf said matter-of-factly, staring off into the distance. Planning the story out step by step. “It’ll have to be a Giant. Three or four.” He said nodding to himself, slowly.

They worked on the story for hours, adding details here and there and Yusuf putting his own artistic spin on some aspects, until Klein could no longer keep his eyes open. For the sake of his friend, Yusuf kept talking out loud until he was sure Klein had fallen asleep. When he was certain that was the case he stood slowly and took another look at Klein. Taking a minute to remember every detail of this night, he doubted he would get another like it. Though he was optimistic. He tiptoed back to his bedroll and sunk into the fabrics and furs he had set up to sleep comfortably. With his eyes closed, he continued with the story until it had reached its climax, making every moment perfect. His friend deserved nothing less than the best. With the story finished and to his liking, Yusuf found himself drift easily to sleep.


In the early morning, Yusuf awoke to Preta and Jaqen shaking him softly. Despite his optimism, Klein had died in the night. Yusuf felt as if he had contracted the same blight himself. With a nod and a deep breath, he asked what needed to be done with a stoic resolve. After they had given their fallen companion the funeral he deserved, the trio continued on – Visiting towns and cities, working where they could find it. Whenever and wherever he had the chance, Yusuf would tell the story of “Klein the Bold”, he wanted every person in the world to know if his friend and the people would always listen. The story had them roaring with laughter, on the edge of their seats, crying with both happiness and because they were sad, every emotion a human could feel; Yusuf made sure they would feel it. With every telling, the crowds grew, along with his feeling of loss for his friend. As a bard, Yusuf was sure he would never tell or even write a better story than this, their joint creation. It may very well become his masterpiece. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

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