Bold beams of sunlight beat down on the poor boy braving the wheat, as the rays peeked out from behind cotton clouds lazily swimming overhead. Not free from the field quite yet, Darcy continued on in the direction that he thought they should go. All the while not minding his smaller company, who was perched up on his shoulder pouting over their previous squabble. His legs crossed one over the other, Cuppy watched the boy work his way through thin stalks that towered above.
To the wheat, both were equally as small as ants.
Huffing and puffing, the golden boy reached out his hand expecting to feel more wheat brush his fingers, but to his glee he touched the cold autumn wind that swayed the field to and fro. Pulling back the stalks, he found himself at the end of the wild field of wheat, the shaded forest scene greeting him as if they were old friends.
Darcy gave a smug smirk towards his companion, boasting to him, ‘We made it through, no thanks to the likes of you.’
Cuppy, however, rolled his eyes, ‘Congratulations, I suppose. Where are we?’
The child looked around, but to the surprise of neither himself, nor the blackwell, nothing looked familiar besides the scenery behind them now, still swaying their stalks with the cold wind of fall.
‘Well,’ Darcy rocked on his heels, ‘we are out of the wheat, at the very least.’
‘Right.’ the blackwell agreed, ‘Now, smart one, where are we going to go?’
‘Nowhere, with you talking like that.’ The boy placed his hand on his hip in annoyance, ‘I do not suppose you have a better idea of where we are. I have been lost since you found me! You are the one who should know where we are going!’
‘You are upset when I lead, and upset when I do not! I cannot tell what it is that you want from me!’
‘Perhaps for you to be a little bit kinder?’ the boy groaned, ‘I am surprised you have not completely combusted yet- there is no controlling that temper of yours!’
‘You are no better!’ Cuppy spat back, as the base of his boots began to smoke against the hairs of the blanket the golden boy brought with him from the abandoned mansion. Sliding down the red fur throw, the cup made his way onto the forest floor as leaves immediately began to burn under his heels. As he stomped away, Darcy huffed in his direction- throwing out a finger to wag at him,
‘Where do you think you are going?’ the golden child snapped.
‘Onwards! You best come along, or else be left on your own.’
As the blackwell took one more step forward, a loud ‘crack!’ sounded as he put his foot down. Cuppy checked under his boot to see if he had stepped on something, perhaps a dry twig, but turned to the direction of a ‘thump!’ not too far from where the two were arguing.
Without a word, Darcy began to wander in the direction of the sound as another ‘crash!’ reverberated through the Deep Woods. If the child had been looking up, he would have seen streams of sunlight falling from the sky sliced clean through. Black birds and little critters crawling along the forest floor fled from the noise, making the brush around the boy and the blackwell shuffle with their shoving.
Cuppy trailed behind, keeping up as best as his thin little legs would let him, while the smoke from his boots dwindled off into the air. Closer they came to the source of such a striking noise- as closer the sounds carried with another crack, another thud, another beam broken. As the light in front of them fell, the shadows grew longer as they crept further throughout the trees.
At last, they came across what was a neatly stacked pile of light, beams struck down to be used for what, neither boy nor blackwell knew. Darcy, being such an adventurous little boy, curiously crept over to the stack of sunlight just to feel the warmth of the stalks on his fingers. The heat from the light radiating around the little pile. Not too hot- but warm enough to comfort one on a cold autumn evening.
Cuppy, on the other hand, was less adventurous when it came to others’ things. Hissing back to the boy, ‘What do you think you are doing? Do not touch those!’
‘It is just sunlight,’ Darcy turned back to him,’Can you believe it? Someone is cutting down the sunlight!’
‘And they will be sure to cut you down too, if they find you wiping your fingers all over it!’
But as the two got caught up in their fussing, the unmistakable thrum of footsteps vibrated the ground the cup was standing on, and a great shadow overtook him, as from behind, a man stood.
A great, golden axe sharper than any blade rested in the woodsmans’ left hand, his right freely hung to his side blistered from swinging such a hefty handle. He was a bear of a man, dark brown hair covering him from head to toe, as he wore with him a belt of tools Darcy could not remember the name of. In a single chest pocket, there was a rose- the most beautiful rose the boy had ever seen in such a rich, red hue. Such a vibrant color, Darcy could have sworn he saw it beat to a slight rhythm. Everything else on the man was dirty, down to his bare feet. However,
the woodsman had a soft halo of light to him, as the dust from chopping down light coated him, illuminating him. Dark black eyes glanced between boy and blackwell, he sniffed,
‘Aye,’ he scratched his chin, ‘you would think that, would you?’
The child jumped and turned around, ‘I apologize! Oh, I was just so curious what you were doing out here! We heard the sound of your cutting ways away.’
Stroking his wiry beard, the man chuckled, ‘I could ask the same thing, boy. Not to mention your little friend here, ‘been such a long time since I have seen one of you.’
‘We are not friends.’ The blackwell corrected him.
‘He is much too terrible to have friends. He may set them on fire.’ Darcy glared to his side, offending the cup.
‘I am surprised you have even one friend, where are the others? Did you lose them too?’
‘You take that back!’
‘Why should I? You have been equally as terrible, I would say.’
As the two began their fussing once more, the woodsman looked between them unimpressed, ‘You two are quite the nuisance, are you not?’
‘Excuse me?’ Darcy and Cuppy spoke in unison.
Rolling his broad shoulders, the woodsman chuffed, ‘Bickering like the children you are, why is it you two choose to travel together, if you despise one another so much?’
Blinking blankly, the two glanced between one another, Cuppy speaking up before Darcy could even begin to tell his side of the story,
‘It is none of your business, mind you.’
‘It is now. I would like to know your names, travelers.’
‘Darcy, Darcy Kingsly. And this is Cuppy.’ The boy held out his hand, his petite paw fitting snugly in the woodsmans’ entire palm. As the two shook hands, the cup could only give a huff and a cross of his thin black arms.
‘I am done with my duties here, how about you two join me around my camp for the evening, it is mighty chilly- A warm fire and a full belly is in order, I believe.’
‘Pardon,’ the blackwell spoke up, ‘but why should we trust you? We have not even gotten your name.’ he scoffed.
The woodsman squinted down at the blackwell, disinterested in his haughtiness. He spoke more firmly than before, ‘Aye,’ he started,
‘You better calm yourself, blackwell. Beaumont is the name, and I am known for cutting things down to size.’