4,510 / 50,000 - Golden Geese

(Yes, I know it just kind of ends.  I haven't written the rest.  Sorry.  But this is sort of like a prologue anyway.)

The torrential rain storm was like a waterfall cascading out of the clouds.  Dry patches were sparse, even in the thick forest.  Any creature with half a bit of sense was in some place of shelter.  Well, almost any.

A teenaged boy was slowly jogging through the forest, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that he was soaked all the way through.  The red bandana he wore was plastered to his head along with his pale, red-orange hair.  He carefully watched where he placed his sandaled feet, his past missteps were evident from the mud stains on his clothes.

“Gene,” Trench called out as he neared a huddled mass underneath one of the trees.

The rug over the person’s head was repelling rain slightly, but it was slowly getting more and more wet.  Trench stopped in front of the rug and nudged it a little.  There was no response, so Trench lifted up one end of the boldly colored piece of carpet.

“Either you hate rain, or you’ve gotten worse, Eugene,” Trench observed.

Eugene looked up, his eyes a clash of black and a sandy yellow.  “I don’t mind rain,” he answered.  “Being sick is bad for my magic.”

“Not to mention your health,” Trench added.

“Same thing,” Eugene retorted.  “Not everyone can be half whale.”

“That’s more like a selkie,” Trench pointed out.

“Sorry,” Eugene said, and then he sneezed.

“I should be apologizing.  I’m letting you get soaked while there’s shelter not too far away.”

At the idea of shelter Eugene perked up considerably.  The black haired teen used the tree to push himself to a standing position.  His shoeless feet left impressions in the wet dirt as Eugene stepped away from the minimal shelter the tree had provided him.

“The forest ends not far in that direction,” Trench explained as he pointed to where he came from.  “There’s a slight drop, but then there’s a meadow.  There’s a castle past that.  It’s bound to have a village and with some sort of inn that we can stay at.”

Eugene nodded and the two made their way out of the forest.  Trench continued to skip through the rain as if it was a clear day.  Eugene kept the rug wrapped around him like a cloak.  His face was not even poking out, but his relatively dry head seemed to get progressively soaked with each step.

“Is it far?” Eugene asked after he stumbled on a tree root.

“The meadows just past those trees,” Trench pointed.  “And then on to find an inn.”

“Uh, Trench,” Eugene said as he just thought of something.  “How are we going to pay?”

Trench stopped dead in his tracks, just at the last trees.  He had completely forgotten that they were out of money.  Working for the innkeeper was only a possibility if the innkeeper was reasonable.  The last one had tried to throw them in jail when they suggested the idea of work for payment; stingy old cretin who thought he had the fanciest inn.

“Well, we can’t go to a shabby place, even with the rain letting up,” Trench admitted.  “With you sick, Eugene, we need to find warm place.”  Eugene just stayed hidden under the rug and did not answer, so Trench continued.  “If worse comes to worse we could go to the castle and say we’re visiting royalty and his servant.”

“You don’t look much like a prince right now,” Eugene smirked as he lifted the rug up a little.  In doing so, Eugene got a good look at the meadow, the castle, and something else.  “I thought you said there was a slight drop.”

“It’s not that bad,” Trench said as he looked at the steep hill they would have to climb down to reach the meadow.  “It looks a little bit like a river bank.  Only, there’s no river, and it’s a little bit taller.  We can slide down it.  It’s not like a little mud would hurt us by this point.”

He just had to say that out loud.  The bank they were standing on collapsed in a landslide and brought them to the edge of the meadow in record time.  Trench flailed in the tumble of dirt, but still ended up face first in the soft mud.  He coughed and pushed himself on to his elbows.

Trench was grumbled and spit out who knew what as he wiped the mud off his pale face.  The rain helped a little the clean up a little bit, but it was now only a light drizzle.  It was amazing that he had not lost anything in the landside and his bright red bandanna, now covered in mud, had stayed securely tied to his head.  With a little bit of caution, Trench looked back up the cliff side with his green eyes.

“Gene,” he called out.  When there was no response, he yelled.  “Eugene!”

“Thanks,” came the mumbled response on Trench’s left.

It did not take long to find his friend, even though he was laying flat on his back in the mud.  Trench stood to help Eugene when a flash caught his eye.  He turned slightly and saw, possibly, one of the more unusual sights he had seen since he had met Eugene.  Some sort of bejeweled bird was just staring at him.  At first he thought it was some ridiculous statue until it cocked its head.  Then it snapped its beak onto Trench’s jacket.

“Evil bird,” Trench cried as he flailed, trying to dislodge the gilded goose.

The yells and honking caused Eugene to roll over and find himself face to face with one of the hissing birds.  “Don’t,” Eugene said quietly.  “It would end bad for both of us.”

The bird stopped its hissing and looked questioningly at Eugene.  Then a shrill whistle sounded through the rain and the goose backed off, joining a cloaked man who had another dazzling goose following him.  The man had to yell a few times and then threaten to club the goose that had Trench before, finally, the jewel-like bird honked in victory and strutted off.

“Eugene,” Trench said quietly.

“Still alive,” came the answer.