Burial of hearts the black widow's malice by N Parnham

at
distances equal to another and enlisting the help of small crumbling rocks,
which she placed at their base to prevent them tumbling over unexpectedly.
    “Now Avis, visualise; see the
fire building up within you, from around you, from the sun and the stars; feel
it erupt in your heart, shooting out from within your hands, like the shot of
an arrow striking upon a target”.
     Trying to visualise, I did
as she said. Deeper my thoughts sank, I could feel the riveting power building
up from within me, but my mind was not clear and as I let go just a small puff
of smoke fluttered out; quite comedic I thought myself.
    “No Avis, try harder, clear
your mind”.
    Pushing myself, I cleared out all
a sombre thoughts isolated in my head, concentrating deeper, seeing the fire,
seizing it in my hands, pushing it out from within me, waiting for that moment
where my belief met my will; the feeling burst forth from within me, causing
the log to flare up before us, the spiders running off squealing as they turned
to lifeless ash.
    “Tremendous Avis, but still we
need to pursue; with the haste you showed, you would have been slaughtered ”.
    I
spent until sundown practicing, each time improving my technique, growing
stronger, no longer reckless or risqué. My reward for today was the setting of
the sun, the outbursts of light, rustic upon the horizon, as it lavished upon
all that stood before it; the serene beauty pleating the heavens and the
earth.  
    Zinmbe started to poke and prod
me to gain my attention.
    “Come on, let us go back to the
village. Tonight I believe is going to be a fun one”.
     Back at the village, the
evening’s entertainment was in full swing, the melodic sounds of instruments
played fluently were pleasant to hear; songs were sung in plentiful portions
and alcohol ran freely among men and women.
     
    “Let
our children grow old and our whispers be told, of a legend born solely, here
in Yilesul.
    Oh
singing a song of a merry old man, a house full of brewers making all that he
can. He drank till the day dawned, then fell to the floor, but the merry old
man came back for some more.
    Let
our children grow old and our whispers be told, of a legend born solely, here
in Yilesul.
    Now
listen to us closely for you might not hear, that this merry old man was not as
appeared. He was the husband so righteous, a lord you should fear, with a house
full of tables that were rather queer. Each day he would rise, each day he
would fall; but the old man from Yilesul he did never disappear.
    Let
our children grow old and our whispers be told, of a legend born solely, here
in Yilesul”.
     
    I was passed a large jug of ale.
It looked well hardened, with thick thread holding the sides together securely.
The smell of the ale caused me to gag, but not wanting to spoil the occasion, I
held my nerve and took a sip of the concoction. It was just as awful as
it smelt. My mouth turned inwards, feeling the vile brew building up a layer of
bitter yeast upon my tongue. Closing my eyes for a moment, I swallowed, trying
not to think about how it tasted, but knowing it was not good.
    Maul and Werdo had come up behind
me, urging me to drink.
    “Come my fine lady, let us be
merry together”. Maul said whilst he not so carefully swayed his drink around
the place.
    “I bet she will not be
able to handle the drink, being a Malkaretz woman and all”. Werdo said giving
me a cheerful glance.
    “Excuse me? I have defeated many an
oaf whom has declared they could out drink me”.
    “Then drink it all , I
challenge you”.
    “Yes show us the man you
are”.
    Rolling my eyes aback, I unwisely
agreed to their rash challenge. Sitting upright, I took in a large breath,
placing the jug against my lips, I began to swallow; urging me on I continued,
as drink began to trickle down the sides of my mouth onto my newly tailored
clothes. Before I knew it I had drank the entire jug, giving myself an
unsavoury froth moustache in the process. Cheering at my