The following day, Dylan was busy plowing a field, the plow tied to Char and Chi via their chapalo-collars as he kept it in straight lines. Even with them doing the pulling, it was still hard work, especially as it was a warm summer day. He was panting a bit, and the chapalo were showing signs of exhaustion as well.

Finally, he finished the last furrow. He stopped, undid the harness, and Char and Chi promptly headed to a water trough. Dylan had kept a jug of water nearby for himself. He walked over to it.

"What do you think you're doing?!" he heard a familiar yell.

The young mymar turned to the nearby figure, "I finally finished plowing the new field. I still don't see why we need another." Dylan took the water jug, and took a big gulp.

Grylos hobbled over, "Lazy good-for-nothing ... You're always trying to get out of work!"

Dylan, jug in hand, walked up to him, "But what good will this do? What we had before was enough for the two of us to look after. How am I supposed to do it all alone with this added to it?"

"By putting your back into it! Now drop that jug and break up the furrows with the hoe."

The two just in front of one another, Dylan answered, "Okay, just give me a moment." He raised the jug to his lips for a drink ...

And Grylos swatted it away with his cane. The jug fell against a tree, and the water trickled out into the ground.

"YOU'LL DO IT NOW YOU LAZY SON OF A ... !!"

Dylan winced, holding his hand. It amazed him how Grylos, lame as he was, could swing that came so fast and hard.

"Yes, Uncle." He began heading to the barn where the tools were. Once far away enough not to be heard, he sighed, "Not even a moment's rest for a drink."

He got to the barn, began looking for the tools, then saw the image of his friend.

Ayrini, this time, looked not happy but concerned, "Dylan, what's happened?"

Dylan sighed, "Uncle Grylos, he's gone completely nuts. He's always been overbearing, but now ... " he paused, "Every little thing, he screams at the top of his lungs and hits me with that cane of his."

Ayrini stepped over to him, and took a closer look at his face, "Including at your eye?"

"It's, okay. The swelling went away. But that's hardly the worst thing. He burned all my books!"

Ayrini stared at him wide-eyed, "He what ?!"

"He burned them, every page, all of them! Broke my glasses too. He even reduced Priest Gibbal's book to ashes!"

"He did that?!" Ayrini was amazed, "I can't believe anyone would do such a thing."

"I don't believe it either. He's done some outrageous things before, but that alone is more than everything I've seen him do or say put together, far more!" Dylan gave an exasperated sigh, "Not only won't he let me read anything, I can't get a moment's rest. Not only do I have to do all the work we already had on my own, he's been giving me even more to do. More fields to plow, more stuff to plant, and if I stop to rest for so much as a moment, he screams at me."

Ayrini was silent for a moment, just looking back, then finally spoke, "Maybe it's time you left him."

He looked at her, surprised, "Just up and left?"

"You can't stay here and let him treat you like that. He had no right to do that to you."

"Oh I'd love to. By heavens, I'd love to." he sighed again, "But I can't. I'd be abandoning an elder relative."

"But he cares nothing for you. And you'll soon be a nervous wreck."

"I know, but he's not just old now, he's crippled. If I abandon him, he'll die."

"Dylan ... " Ayrini was still trying to find a way out for him.

"I don't know what to do either. I can only hope he'll snap out of it, and soon."

Then came that familiar yell, still shrill despite the distance, "GET OFF YOUR TAIL AND GET THAT HOE AND YOURSELF OUT HERE NOW!!"

Dylan sighed again, "I have to go. I'm sorry Ayrini." He went over to the tools, got the hoe, and left the barn.

The image of Ayrni starred at her friend as he returned to his life of drugery, wishing there was something she could do.

But there was nothing.

On the Firstday after the Summer Festival, Priest Gibbal's day so far had been normal, though he had been wondering how Dylan had been dealing with Grylos after the stroke. The herbalist had described him as "hostile, sometimes to the point of violence." But perhaps that was just an exaggeration, or perhaps just temporary. One wouldn't normally take the news of being partially paralyzed on one side very well.

He headed to the village square a little earlier than usual. It was still some time before Dylan normally went off on his own, so he was confident he'd still be there.

"Get your fresh onilot meat here!" he heard a loud voice with a touch of hoarseness, a familiar one, Grylos. So far things seemed normal. But it was followed with a , "Hey! Woman, why didn't you get your meat over here?!"

It was then Gibbal began getting the idea the herbalist may not have been exaggerating.

As usual, they had set up their cart as a stall. But it wasn't quite the same. Grylos, sitting on a stool, had a cane. The left side of his face with a bit of sag, but he still held a scowl. While Dylan typically didn't say much while at the stall, he seemed to be making a passive effort not be seen. He was standing on the opposite side of the cart as Grylos, behind a few sacks.

As he got closer, he noticed a few bruises on Dylan's face and hands. His manner was also different. At this time, he was usually anticipating going about the village later on. Right now, more than anything, he seemed a bit worried and afraid.

Near them was an older mymar woman, carrying a basket with a portion on onilot meat, looking at Grylos oddly.

"Why didn't you get it here?" Grylos demanded.

"I simply got it from where I wanted to." She continued to look at him strangely. Normally, which farmer someone went for food wasn't questioned.

Grylos, however, was questioning it, "Our meat is just as good as anyone else's, even better! Yet you never got it here? Why?!"

"I've gotten it from you before, from your nephew." The woman was starting to get annoyed, "Now, I must be on my way."

She began to turn, but Grylos heaved himself upright by his cane, "Liar! You'vr never gotten anything from us! You're deliberately trying to keep as much silver away from us as you can!"

The woman ignored him and walked off.

Grylos continued to vent, even as she went away, "I'll bet you try to get others to stay away, spreading lies about our food! You want us to have nothing for all our hard work!"

It was at this point Dylan finally gathered his courage and intervened. Walking over, "Uncle, you're making a scene."

Grylos responded by taking a swing at the young mymar. He was still able to balance himself despite the partial paralysis, while using the cane against him, "Not a word, Dylan! Not one word!"

Dylan had managed to block the blow this time, but it was enough to get him to back off.

Grylos turned to a few villagers who were starring at the scene, "You've never bought very much from me! All my hard work, all my food, and hardly ever a silver from you! Damn you all!! I want what's mine, and I want it now!!"

Gibbal had seen enough. He walked over while the angry mymar was looking away, and when close enough to be heard without raising his voice, "Grylos ..."

Grylos turned, "Oh, so it's you. Going to try some of that fancy talk of yours on me?"

"No 'fancy words' this time." Gibbal glanced at Dylan, who was looking back as if about to plead, "But I think we do need to talk, in private."

Grylos' immediate answer was a glare, as if about to tell him to go away, but instead, "All right priest, we'll talk, this once." With his cane, he began hobbling away from the cart.

When they were out of sight of Dylan and everyone else, Grylos was the first to speak, "All right, what's so important?"

"To begin with, you."

"Me? Are we getting into your nonsense about the afterlife?" Grylos snorted.

"Not yet. I heard you woke back up, but heard little about what shape you were in."

"Well, now you know." Grylos' expression turned even more sour, "An it wouldn't have happened if you priests hadn't gotten rid of all the decent liquor!"

"Okay, maybe I should have been more vocal in opposing that movement. And yes, you have the right to be angry about what happened to you." Grylos' eyes briefly widened a bit, showing he didn't expect this, "But, I am concerned on how you have been venting your anger."

Grylos' sour look returned, "What do you mean, priest?"

"Dylan."

"What about him?"

"You don't think I haven't noticed? The bruises on his face and hands, the fear in his eyes?"

"It's about time that whelp knew a little fear." He didn't seem the least bit apologetic, "Maybe now, he'll get some work done."

"It looks like more than a little." Gibbal paused momentarily, "Is that what you want him to be when you pass away? So afraid, he jumps at his own shadow? How can he possibly get any work done then?"

Grylos seemed to be struggling for an answer, "He ... he will get work done, and without any nonsense."

"That hesitation tells me even you have some doubts." Before Grylos could snap a retort, Gibbal cut him off, "Look, let me offer something that may be to both your liking."

"And that is?"

"Since you blame me for your situation, how about I help with your care instead of the youth?"

Grylos looked at Gibbal, surprised, "What?"

"Yes, I know it is tradition for a younger relative to be the one helping out, and people like me are supposed to be the ones reminding everyone else about tradition. But it's not unheard of. I have heard of some older men who chose to live with someone closer to their age instead of a much younger relative. Perhaps it is time for the two of you to part."

Grylos continued to stare at him for a moment, then blurted, "You're crazy. This is a matter for family."

"A family where one is robbed of his hopes and dreams? Look, Grylos, let him go."

"No! He needs to be set straight on reality. That little barbecue the other day was a start, but he needs whipped into shape."

"Barbecue?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention." Grylos' frown turned into a sadistic-looking grin, "I burned those time-wasting stacks of paper of his."

Gibbal was taken aback, "You did what?! "

"Reduced them to cinders, all of them, including that fancy one you gave him." His grin turned back into a scowl, "He has no right to twiddle his time away like that."

"I don't believe it. Grylos, you've talked about a lot of things, but burning the books?"

"Then go ask the boy to return that fancy one."

Gibbal starred at him, "Burned them ... do you realize what you've done?"

"What? Condemn myself to the netherworld for burning that 'holy' book?" Grylos had a smug smile.

"Do you realize how much work was put into it?"

"Money? All right priest, if it's money you want, you'll get it. How much did you pay for that pile of scrap paper?"

Gibbal sighed, "There's more to that book than money. There's the time it took to make it, the effort that was put into it. And then there's what it represents: hopes, dreams, and traditions that go back for centuries. No Grylos, I didn't pay a silver for it. It was given to me. But what you did, you can never pay me back, or Dylan."

"If it didn't cost you anything, then why worry? And I don't owe that whelp anything, except a swift kick in the tail!"

"But why? Has he not done everything you've asked of him all this time? And in return you destroy what he values most? Burn what represent his hopes and dreams?"

Grylos scowled, "He has no right to them! They were a complete waste of his time best spent on work."

Gibbal was starting to get angry, "No Grylos, you burned them out of jealousy and spite! He has a lifetime ahead of him to fulfill his hopes and dreams while you're at the end of yours with nothing to show for it."

Almost immediately after uttering the last word, Gibbal realized what he spoke and immediately regretted it. Grylos' looked at him stunned for a few seconds, then exploded, "Damn you priest! You think you're so high and mighty because of your titles, robes, and books! You're about as old as I am with no kids either! You're at the end of your rope as well! What do you think you have to show for it?"

Gibbal spoke calmly, "That I've left many a person I've met a little happier, and some of them in turn have made others happier, and so on."

"And how will that help you out in the end? In just a few years, you'll be dead and buried. A lump of worm food, and that's all!"

Grylos then hobbled away, as fast as his bad leg would allow.

Gibbal looked at the older mymar as he went off, sighing under his breath, "If that's all you can see ahead, I feel sorry for the both of you."

Time went on for Grylos and Dylan. Days turned into weeks, and it was apparent the older mymar's attitude was not going to change, nor how he drove the youth on and on and on.

"I STILL can't believe how you just let that fence post fall apart!" Grylos grumbled as he stood near Dylan, "when you replace that, you can get back to the plowing."

Dylan, digging a hole, gave no response as he knew what answer the taskmaster would deliver. An onilot had bumped against a post, and time had weakened it enough for it to snap. The hole was for a new post, which lay on the ground nearby, next to the fence rails that would be going on it.

All the time, he was under Grylos' constant glare.

"Hurry it up!" the older mymar shouted, "You don't have all day."

Dylan tried to go a little faster, but the result was the shovel slipping from his hands and the handle knocking him in the jaw, "Ow!"

"You clumsy oaf!" Grylos yelled, "Pick that up and finish your job!"

"Y-yes Uncle." Dylan's fingers trembled as he took the shovel and went back to digging.

"I swear, if you're not slacking, you're screwing up! How are you possibly going to survive on your own?!"

Dylan gave no verbal response this time. He just went back to widening and deepening the hole.

"Hurry it up!"

Dylan finally decided he had dug deep enough. He put the post in and glanced at the others nearby to make sure that it was the right height.

"Quit that messing around and finish the job!"

Dylan obediently went about filling the hole, even though he had wanted a little more time to check it. He quickly filled in the dirt, then got the rails and tried putting them in place. But he was having trouble fitting them in. The hole hadn't been dug quite deep enough, and the post hadn't been aligned properly. When he tried to place in the rails, they just wouldn't fit.

"Quit messing around and put them in!"

The shouting got Dylan even more nervous as he desperately tried to place in the rails, but they just kept falling out. He kept fumbling at it, but no matter how hard he tried, nothing seemed to work.

"DO IT!! "

In his haste, Dylan took a step to the side without looking, and his foot came down on the old broken post lying down. It promptly rolled under his weight, and he staggered, trying to keep his balance. But trying to do that and hold onto the rails was too much. He slipped, and fell to the ground, the rails crashing painfully down on him.

"You idiot!" Grylos took his cane and began whacking Dylan with it, "I tell you to fix a simple fence post, and you just mess it up! You useless, incompetent, ..." He hit the youth a few more times until he scrambled up and out of reach. Grylos then stopped swinging the cane, "Dig it back up and start over. I'm going to check on the onilot." the older mymar then hobbled off, muttering, "Worthless piece of ... "

Dylan sighed, relieved Grylos was leaving, but the words continued to haunt him - worthless ...

He began digging the dirt back up.

"Dylan ..."

The youth turned, and saw the image of his friend, looking at him sadly.

"Ayrini." Dylan briefly broke out in a smile, then it faded, "I'm sorry this isn't a good time." He went back to the shoveling.

"Dylan, it hurts to see you like this."

"I, I don't know what to do. I can't just leave him. No one else will take care of him."

"But what about your dreams of exploring, of going off through the frontier?"

"I ...," Dylan stopped shoveling, "I don't know. I used to think I could, but ..."

"But what? What's wrong?"

Dylan looked at his feet, "I can't seem to do anything right. No matter what I do, it all falls apart. I can't plow straight, I can't weed fast enough, ... "

"That's just your Uncle's ranting. You know that."

Dylan sighed, "I don't know. Maybe he's right. Maybe I am a worthless child like he's always saying."

Ayrini's eyes widened, "You can't mean that!"

"Everything I do seems to fall to pieces. I don't know if I'll be able to keep the farm straight, let alone survive in the wilderness."

"But you would be giving up your dream! You would be giving up what you've been hoping for."

"Hope?" Dylan gave a lengthy sigh.

"Dylan!" came the familiar shout from the distance, interrupting their talk, "Get over here."

The youth glanced at his unfinished job, then called back, "I'm still working on - "

"NOW!! "

Dylan looked at Ayrini, "I'm sorry, maybe later." He then headed off to his Uncle's voice, with the girl looking at him sadly as he ran off.

Not far away, the chapalo Chi noticed Ayrini. Her tail swishing happily, she walked to her ...

.....

Shortly afterwards, Dylan was going through a field, looking for weeds.

"Shouldn't I be doing the fence first?" the youth asked Grylos who was nearby, watching over him.

"Shut up and work!" the older mymar snapped, "And once that is done, you can replow the carnib patch."

Dylan sighed. It was clear there was no changing his mind.

Back to the drudgery. No use worrying about the hole. He could take care of that once Grylos remembered it.

"RAUUUUUUUUUNNNK!! "

His thoughts were interrupted by a shrill cry not far away, "Rauuuuuunnk! Ronk! Rauuuuuunk!"

Dylan looked up, "That's Chi! What's wrong with her?"

"Go and stop that beast from making that racket!" Grylos seemed more concerned about the noise than whatever could be causing it.

"Yes Uncle." Dylan rushed off. He ran to the noise, wondering what would be causing the chapalo to cry out so loudly. He barely noticed he was heading back to where he was digging the post. Then he saw her.

"Oh no! Chi!!"

Chi was lying next to the hole, her front let bent at a sharp angle, crying out in pain.

"There, it's set now."

Dylan had gotten a couple thick sticks, and bound them to Chi's leg using some rags. The chaplo was still on her side, groaning, though no longer crying out.

Grylos stood nearby, watching the scene with a cross expression, though saying nothing for now.

"I guess I can get her to the barn later, try and keep the weight off her leg."

Grylos was still silent.

"It'll take weeks for that bone to heal. Until then, we'll have to keep an eye on her and - "

"It's all your fault!" Grylos snapped, ending his silence.

"What?"

"The beast wouldn't have broken it's leg if you'd have finished putting the post up like I told you! It's your fault it's lying there unable to do any work!"

"But Uncle Grylos, I tried to tell you. I - "

" 'But' nothing! It's always 'but' this and 'but' that with you! I am sick and tired of your excuses! 'But' is not going to help you get any work done or put food on the table! Thanks to your laziness, we have only one good chapalo. You had better be able to pick up the slack for the weeks ahead!"

Grylos then turned and hobbled off, mumbling under his breath.

Dylan spoke nothing. He just sat down and hugged Chi around her head and neck. The animal responded with a murmur and the tip of the tail wagged a little.

After that, the routine on the farm changed a little. With Chi unable to work, there wasn't as much plowing and replowing, and they had to take a few rest stops to and from the village on Firstday. Dylan was also able to get a little time to himself to watch Chi in her barn stall, feeding and petting her.

And sometimes he had some extra company.

"How long do you think it will be?" asked Ayrini.

"Hard to say," Dylan answered as he took a bale of hay over to Chi, "Sometimes several weeks, sometimes several months. It depends on the chapalo, notably how well it's been cared for," He put the bale by Chi, and she began munching on it, "and Grylos has been working us hard lately."

Ayrini bent down, the image of her hand going over Chi as if stroking her, "He never pays much attention to her or Char, does he?"

"No," Dylan gave Chi a scritch behind her eardrum, which got her making a contented murmurring sound, "he almost never mentions them unless there's work to be done. He doesn't even mention them by name. He never has."

"Never?" Ayrini looked down at Chi, "Have you ever wondered why he was, that way?"

"Many times. Father was too young to know him well, and he never came back for a visit. Grandparents called him a bit quiet, not saying much. I guess nobody really knew him."

"Do you think we ever will?"

"I - "

"Dylan!" came a familiar bellow from outside.

The youth nearly jumped, the nervously looked at Ayrini, "I, I have to go. I hope to see you again, soon."

"Dylan, please try not to let him worry you so much."

"I'll, I'll try." Dylan headed out while Ayrini remained with Chi.

And so life went on. Weeks went by, and soon the weather began to cool. The leaves on the trees began to turn yellow and purplish. One thing that didn't change much, however, was Chi's leg. Although she could stand and move a little, she always kept her weight off her bag leg. Any pressure on it would bring bleats of complaint.

"Why isn't that beast's leg fixed?!" Grylos blurted in frustration as he leaned on the stall rail.

"I don't know," Dylan admitted, "I guess she just needs more time." The youth's clothes had gotten a bit more shabby over the weeks, though that mattered nothing to him at this moment.

"It's already been over three months! How much longer is it going to be?"

"I don't know."

"We can't wait any longer," the older mymar snarled, "We're getting a new chapalo at the Harvest Festival."

Dylan's ears stood up and his tail curled with pleasure, "The Harvest Festival? We're going after all?!" He looked like he was about to burst with glee.

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face!"

"Yes Uncle," Dylan's enthusiasm slackened, and his ears drooped.

"We're staying just long enough to get a new chapalo. And we're taking this one over there. Since you can't get it back on its feet, maybe I can find somebody who can."

"Yes Uncle." Dylan was doing his best to hide his optimism. Finally a break in the mind-numbing drudgery that had gone on for what seemed like forever.

The villiage had no one truly skilled in veterinarian medicine. Most farmers in the area were semi-skilled, knowing how to treat common ailments with home remedies, and took care of most matters on their own. For more complicated problems such as a broken limb that wouldn't heal on an animal the farmer didn't want put down, they had to rely on traveling veterinarians who came to the village time to time. They had no regular schedule, so it took luck and paitence to find one most weeks. At special events such as the festivals, however, a farmer could usually find at least one.

Finally came the day of the Harvest Festival. Getting Chi onto the cart to begin with, even with a ramp, hadn't been easy, but a few chincaberries placed on the cart by Dylan got her on. The trip itself was uneventful, though different with Chi in the cart instead of pulling it. There were also a few crops in there, baskets of chincaberries, separated from her by the boards making up the ramp so they wouldn't get eaten.

Once there, it was like the village was an entirely different place. Like the Summer Festival, there was plenty of music, plenty of contests, but as this was the time of year the most food was at hand, there was especially a lot to eat, and in such varieties. Special dishes were prepared just for this day, and the aromas were all over the place. Dylan's stomach rumbled whenever he got a good whiff of something.

With all the people in the villiage, the cart could only be taken so far in. The cart was parked, the ramp set up again, and with a few more chincaberries to coax her out, Dylan helped Chi down, doing his best to keep the weight off her leg.

"Hmmph!" Grylos snorted, "beast has been nothing but trouble."

After some careful steps, the chapalo was almost down. But she slipped and put her weight on her bad leg, "Roooooohnk!!"

"Shut up you good-for-nothing animal!" Grylos angrily whacked her across the rump with his cane, which drew another bleat in protest. Even Char sounded off, as if expressing his own displeasure.

"Uncle Grylos," Dylan told him, "She's already down. That's not going to do any good!"

"No," Grylos fumed, "With this useless eater, nothing does any good." He turned to the cart, "I'll go see about the beast, you take care of the berries we brought. Those frivolous dessert-baking contest will be good for one thing, a few extra silvers for us."

"But Grylos, won't you need help?"

Grylos gave Dylan an icy glare, "Just do as you're told!"

Resigned, Dylan took Char and tied him to a nearby post, took as many of the berry baskets he could reasonably carry, and began heading off. He couldn't help but glance back, seeing the angry old man tugging at the limping chapalo, trying to make her go faster. Then he noticed Grylos calling out to someone, and a particularly large mymar walked up. Dylan noticed he was wearing working clothes, suggesting he was here for business rather than merriment.

Dylan was too far away to hear what the men were saying, or see the expressions on their faces, but when the stranger got close to Chi, she tried to back away. That puzzled Dylan as she never retreated from anyone unless hit or scolded. Grylos held onto her, wacking her with his cane, and the larger man had to help drag Chi off.

Dylan thought about going over to see what was going on, but he was afraid of what Grylos would do. Although concerned about Chi, he was confident she would be better off after this. The mymar did look a bit muscular for a veterinarian, though they sometimes had some strong assistants who occasionally became a vet himself. Still, he had an uneasy feeling about the situation. But he attributed it to his constant worry over Grylos.

Here was finally some free time to himself, and at the Festival!

He hurried off with the berries. Hopefully delivering the baskets wouldn't take more than a few trips, and then he could truly enjoy himself for the first time in months.

.....

Dlyan held the redi right before his nose. His nostrils twitched with pleasure, making the portly proprietor of the booth smooth her apron in expectation of a sale. It had been fried after being coated with a combination of savory (and aromatic) herbs that made even this cheap cut of onilot meat seem like a slice of heaven.

He held the dish in front of his nostrils for a moment to savor the sweet smell. Then his stomach rumbled, and he decided he couldn't wait any longer. Salivating, he opened his mouth and drew the succulent bit of meat closer ...

"Put that down!" came a familiar snarl.

Dylan turned, "But Uncle Grylos, I'm starving. Aren't you hungry at all?"

"We're staying only long enough to get another chapalo and get the other one from the men we left it with. We don't have time for that."

"But Uncle - "

"Get rid of it and let's go, NOW!"

Sadly, Dylan gave the redi back to the woman, and joined Grylos. His stomach growled as if in displeasure of being denied a tasty meal, but nothing could be done about it.

His stomach wasn't the only thing bothering him. With his heavily patched and ragged work clothes, he felt so out of place in the crowd with so many others dressed in their best garments without so much as a misplaced thread. And the colorful dresses the women wore ... he felt so inadequate.

They came to a number of onilot and chapalo in pens and tied to posts. Those in the pens were being judged for the contest to see which was the best. The others were up for sale, the festival being the best chance to meet a lot of potential buyers. Due to the smells that onilot and chapalo inevitably made, however, this part of the fair was less crowded than the others.

Dylan stood by while Grylos looked over the chapalo. Some were calves only recently weaned. Some had a few years on them. The majority were yearlings, adolescents, just about fully grown. The older mymar looked over a number, occasionally asking the owner some questions, notably the price. Dylan couldn't help but notice most of the animals seemed to shirk away from Grylos, yet when he was near one, he would sometimes get nuzzled as if it were asking for attention.

With most of the people Grylos talked to, the conversation soon ended with the older mymar walking away grumbling about the other guy trying to rob him. But eventually, he came across one where the owner was willing to make a deal.

"Well she had 'the shakes' as a calf," the other farmer cautioned, "It's unlikely she'll ever have one of her own."

"I'm not looking to raise calves." Grylos retorted, "I want one that will work."

"In that case ..."

They soon worked out a deal, and with a handshake and Grylos handing over some silvers, the farmer untied the yearling female from the post and handed the rope to Grylos. Grylos and Dylan then took the chapalo back to the cart. When it walked too slowly for Grylos' liking, however, the older mymar gave it a hard yank, "Come on you lazy beast!"

The chapalo bleated in protest.

"I told you come on!" Grylos smacked the yearling with his cane.

"Uncle Grylos," Dylan cautioned, "you're making a scene." He glanced uneasily at the stares they were getting from those nearby, not to mention how unusually quiet it got for being in the middle of a noisy festival.

"I'll make a scene all right if this beast doesn't get moving!" He smacked the yearling a few more times, "Move it before I decide you're better off as chapalo stew!"

Dylan winced. A few mymar actually had a taste for chapalo meat, possibly because it was much cheaper. He had no idea what it tasted like as the thought of slaughtering a loyal working animal just seemed so wrong. Onilot, not being too bright and useless as working animals, were a different matter.

Grunting in protest, the young chapalo reluctantly resumed its course.

Getting to the cart, they tied the chapalo at the post where Char stood quietly. Char nuzzled the yearling as if greeting her. He was also licking her a little. Dylan thought it was where Grylos' cane had struck.

"You stay here," the older mymar told him, "I'm going to see about the sale of that other beast."

"I'm not keeping a beast that won't work! Getting rid of it will solve the problem."

"But Uncle Grylos - "

The cane cut the air with an angry sound Dylan knew all to well, and, though his action was by now automatic, Dylan was hard pressed to get his arm up in time to block it, "But nothing! I've had it with that beast! The only thing it'll be good for now is a few silvers! Now stay here!"

Grylos then hobbled off.

Dylan felt cut to the heart. Chi had always been part of the farm since he had arrived, a constant companion. Now, he would never see her again.

As he was pondering life without his friend, another mymar walked over. He was muscular and wearing working clothes, giving Dylan the impression he might have been the vetenarian Grylos went up to.

"Excuse me," he asked Dylan, "are you one of the owners of that female chapalo with the bad leg?" The voice had a slight accent to it, suggesting he was from one of the villages made up of descendants of non-Aglirian mymar who were part of the settlers.

"Yes," Dylan answered, "what did you want?"

"We're finished working on it. But your mentor didn't tell us whether you wanted it back or sold."

"What?!" Dylan was surprised, then exhilarated, "The leg's fixed already? No we're not selling her, we'll take her back! Where is she?"

"Uh," the stronger mymar seemed confused by Dylan's reaction, "third shed on the right from the smokehouse. But - "

Dylan didn't stay to hear the rest, he began running to the place he was told.

"Wait!" the other mymar ran after him, "there's something you might not have been told."

But Dylan didn't listen. Dodging around some people, nearly colliding with a few, he quickly got to the three sheds mentioned. Two had the doors wide open, showing they were empty inside. The third was shut. Had Dylan been calmer, he might have noticed the strong smell of blood. But Dylan was too excited to notice, that after thinking Chi would be gone forever, he'd get her back. He yanked the door open.

For a fraction of a second he thought there had been a mistake and Chi wasn't here. There was certainly no big friendly chapalo standing in the shed, but it was not empty. Something large and red was hanging by a hook from an overhead beam; and the gleaming knives, bloody apron, and gloves that covered a nearby table didn't look like a surgeon's implements. It took him almost a full second for his mind to truly understand that the red thing hanging there in the gloomy shed was the gutted, headless, carcass of a chapalo. Below it were several large buckets of blood that still steamed slightly in the cool fall air.

For several seconds, Dylan stood there, not believing what he saw.

"He told us you both agreed to it," came a voice from behind.

Dylan fell to his knees, a choke muttering from his lips.

"He told us you both felt there was no hope for a full recovery, that this was the only way."

"He told me, he wouldn't do this." Dylan did his best to sound calm, but his emotions soon cracked through, "Th-that she w-would live." A single tear came down his cheek.

The butcher had seen this before, the apprentice farmer who was more reluctant to let go of favorite animals than his master. He had seen them come to arguments sometimes, but in the end the elder always got his way.

"There you are!" came a voice familiar to Dylan, "I thought you told me you'd be doing this in - What?! Why did you bring him here?"

The butcher turned to Grylos, "You told me you both agreed."

"That little snot had his chance, despite my better judgment. But he failed! I knew the whelp was too soft for this, so I only told him the beast was being sold. I didn't tell him whether it would be alive or not." Grylos' lips turned into a cruel grin. He felt he had been clever in manipulating his words.

"Leave." came the stony reply.

"What?!" Grylos was surprised he was being talked at in such a manner.

The butcher glared at the older mymar, "I do not do business with liars. If you ever want work done with me again, I will deal with your apprentice, not you."

"WHAT?! You idiot oaf!" Outraged, Grylos swung the came at the butcher, striking him in the cheek. But the stronger mymar barely budged.

His look one of restrained anger, his ears folded flat against his hair and his tail visibly lashing behind him, the butcher spoke slowly to Grylos in a hissing tone, "It may be against your apprentice's honor to beat some sense into you, but it is not against mine. Now leave, before you will be needing not a cane, but a stretcher."

Grylos was not a man who was easily scared, but he regarded the muscular mymar with fear in his eyes, thinking he just might carry out his threats.

"I'll be waiting by the cart," Grylos told Dylan, trying to depart with some measure of dignity. He then hobbled off in a quicker pace than usual, occasionally giving a nervous glance behind.

Dylan was still kneeling on the ground before the carcass that had once been his beloved friend, not having moved the whole time. The butcher walked over, and placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, "If I could bring your animal back, I would. But there is nothing that can be done now. I know you don't want the meat, so take the silvers and go. Someday, that old man will depart, and where you work will truly be your own. But until then, you'll have to bear him."

Dylan, however, could think of only one thing, "Chi ..."

"And so I took the silvers and left. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want to be around what was left of her looking like that."

"I still can't believe it. He had her killed, and like that?"

"Believe it. Chi is gone."

It was night after the trip to the Festival. Dylan was talking to Ayrini besides a tree next to the fence, the immediate area around them illuminated by a lantern. He was in a sullen state. The girl was still in an expression of shock.

"He told me there was nothing that could be done, but I should have seen this coming. Just before Chi was out of sight, I saw her try and get away from him. She must've smelled the blood on him. I should have known it would have taken something serious to spook her like that, but I was too distracted. It was the Harvest Festival, and all I could think about was enjoying myself."

Ayrini stood there, listening. Although no longer looking shocked, she still looked concerned.

Dylan lowered his head, "Maybe Grylos is right. Maybe I really am soft. Maybe all I really do think about is myself."

Ayrini looked at him skeptically, "Do you really believe that?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you feeling so much hurt over her?"

Dylan sighed.

"Dylan, you had nothing to do with it. Grylos did. And the way he did it ..."

"He was trying to hide the real truth from me, to protect me."

"Protect you?!" Arini's face took on a rare expression of anger, "He would have told you later on! Some day when things weren't going right, he would have told you then just to make you more miserable. He just wanted to save it for another time, that's all!"

Dylan sighed.

"Dylan, I've told you before he has no right to do what he's been doing to you. But this, it's time to go."

Dylan really did want to leave, but he couldn't imagine any other way of living.

"I ... can't."

"You can. You're many times more the man he is, or ever was."

"Even if I could, winter is almost here. Not only would he die, but so would Char and the new chapalo. I don't know if I could even take care of myself through the season."

"Then promise me when Spring comes you'll go. The animals will be okay then."

Dylan thought hard. Part of him agreed fully with Ayrini, telling him he couldn't keep on living like this, and given a chance he should take it. But the months under Grylos weighed heavily on him, filling him with doubt he could survive on his own.

"I ... I don't know."

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