St. Bernard's Apostles

 ST BERNARD’S APOSTLES

Wils Hosken

The crunch of thick snow was met with heavy breaths, each one more diminished than the last. The two men had grown accustomed to the weight of their bags and the weight of their bodies, but the snow that caked along their frames chilled their bones like metal, running through them until it reached their very souls. The younger of the two was blond, his curled hairs and whitened skin now pierced with redness and chill, his soft eyes growing tired as he brought his scarf up and over his nose to shield his bluing lips from the chill of the air. The older of the two was heavier, a thick blackened beard with red scorched face of years of travel along the wilderness and the mountains. His snarl had been unchanged since they first began their journey, pressing onwards through to their resting point, peeking over the next hillside. Before them were large square structures of layered windows, met beside them by a frozen lake. A ramshackle shack was set further along, and outside they could see a great bonfire blooming against the cold, with a singular warden staring into it with a large black dog by his side. The warden turned and stepped back into the building, the dog soon following close behind.

The two men stepped into a warm hostel, their boots thickened with snow and their bodies cold and worn. The inside was simple, wooden and plain. It had to be for how much insulation was needed to weather the storm outside. But most notable of all, was the noise, growling, whining, of hulking beasts trapezing about the place. Thick dogs of heavy drool, some adorned in harnesses announced the arrival of the two visitors with thunderous barking. Without hesitation, one of these massive dogs went to meet the men, sniffing and investigating him, their thick fur coating them like a lion’s mane, being sure to baptise the visitors’ kneecaps with drool. The men looked down, and took off some of the cloth around their faces. The older one was named Conrad, meaning ‘Brave’ and the younger was Yael, meaning ‘mountain goat’, a significantly less impressive meaning, albeit one that would be fruitful in the path they were traveling. Conrad ignored the dogs while Yael sought to pet the one that had introduced itself to them, a massive glop of drool soon slapping itself onto Yael’s face. 

“They are even sweeter in person, wouldn’t you agree?” Yael called out to Conrad, who grunted to dissuade the boy’s fascination with the beasts. Conrad sought out to greet the keeper, a wizened older gentleman by the name of Yosef. Yosef was balding, with deep robes around him, bundled one overtop the other to create a warm wave of layers. He was seen tending to the puppies at this time, sitting down beside their hulking behemoth of a mother.

“We wish to make the pass through the mountain, we will stay here for a night…” Conrad stated, ignoring the puppies as they passed by and around him, pawing at his pant-leg seeking affection, only for him to shoo them away. Yosef was busy feeding them some clumps of meat, his hands slathered and stained with old salted blood before the beasts sought to lick them clean. 

“The winds are cold, and storms come fast, wanderer.” Yosef stated, scritching under the jowls of one of the large beasts. He seemed to never blink, his demeanor calm and clear as ice, yet he displayed the warmth that eluded Conrad many a day. He turned and saw through the man, “You should wait until it has passed.”

“We have urgent matters. Passage to Rome to deliver a message.” Conrad insisted, his bundles of cloth only bolstering his frame. But Yosef didn’t seem to mind the size of the man looming above, he was content to let the dogs lap away the blood from his hands. 

“A message they cannot receive if you are both dead. Stay safe. Stay a while. Then leave when it is clear. I have seen far too many travelers brave the Alpine without a care… and far too many be laid for the pyre for their foolishness.” Yosef calmly insisted, going on to list, “Lunden, Benedict, Euphemia, Alaric… all were once flesh and blood. Now they are snow, and ash.”

Conrad snarled, but held his tongue against the monk. He looked down at the dogs swarming him as they expected affection like Yosef and Yael had delivered, but found none, only the dark gaze of a man who refused to break to even the slightest glimmer of cheer or compassion.

“I will make you something to eat. You must be cold, and hungry.” Yosef rose and without a sound to his footsteps, fetched into the kitchen to make a stew. Conrad was sat down by the fire, across from Yael, the two slowly feeling their muscles relax as the heat reentered their bodies, the biting frost slowly softening until it was no more. Yael had been coated with the dogs, and currently had a large one occupying his lap with little comprehension that it was too big to reside in such a space, while another was sniffing Yael’s hair. A few had moved to engage with Conrad, but the man was too stubborn to let them close, and would scowl if they so much as looked at him. The firelight coated one side of Conrad’s frame, flickering and dampening, but still warm enough to feel the heat melting into him. Yael was bathed in the firelight, slowly and steadily being bombarded with more beasts that began to crowd him as he offered more and more pets and scratches to the rescue dogs. Yael looked to Conrad, trying to speak while forcing his mouth closed as the dogs tried to smother him with lapping. 

“They are quite friendly beasts.” Yael commented, before holding his breath as one of the puppies began to lick and nip at his nose, “Would it harm you to return such sweetness?”

“The dogs are here for their duties. Same as us.” Conrad stated, looking into the fire as Yosef whistled the dogs away for their nightly meal. He felt the heat wash over him, a welcome relief from the biting cold outside, “Pray we don’t have to see them again.”

“Is it true they carry ale with them?” Yael asked, picking one of the puppies up off him to send it on its way to its mother. He went on to say, “I heard a rumor of such.”

“Rumor is as rumor does, boy. The beasts are not trained tavern keepers. Should we become lost to the snow, they will seek us out and lie on us for warmth until help arrives. Some carry rations, water, and if we are in a dire state, they will drag us back. That’s what they’re trained to do. I saw dogs similarly bred for fetching people at sea in my travels.” Conrad explained with little acknowledgement. They were bred for it, they lived for it, that was their purpose, no different than his purpose was to deliver a message. There was no need for affection in such business. He was his duty.

“I did not train them. The knowledge is passed through each generation. The fathers and the mothers teach the pups. I am merely a caretaker of these great many things. The living, and the dead.” Yosef clarified, a thick tongue interluding between his fingers as he presented tears of raw gizzard into the maw of one of the dogs. Conrad’s gaze was still locked to the fire, yet in it, he felt the shadows creeping over him and past him, resting in the far corner, as if lying against something unseen. Slumped in the corner asleep was a hulking mountain of an animal. When Conrad first noticed it hiding in the shadows, resting its head on the side, he immediately thought it was a bear for its size and nearly drew his sword. But the beast was a dog, black and coated with fur that billowed out from it. Its face dragged along the ground like a hood, its ears hung like nooses and as he stared at this beast, it turned back at him with gray eyes like fog in a graveyard.

“Does your bear not want to eat?” Conrad asked, regarding the great beast. Looking at it was like staring into the deepest pit of a cavern from which there was no way out. 

“That is Jude.” Yosef introduced to him from the other room, “The eldest of the litter. You need not worry about her yet.” 

“She’s giving me a weird look. Isn’t she hungry?” Conrad asked, before clarifying to Yael before Yael could attempt an expression of endearment, “If they starve, we die. Think nothing more of it.”

Then, in that same motion, his gaze turned back to the dog, and called out to Yosef.

“I don’t have any food.” Conrad stated, his eyes still on the shadow sitting in the dark. It didn’t look upset, or friendly, or confused, it just looked at him, perhaps knowingly, as if expecting something to happen. As if it knew all things that were, and all things that will be. 

“You need not worry yourself with her.” Yosef said, hauling the pot past Conrad and setting it down over the fire.

“If you are lucky, you need not worry yourself with her.” Yosef finished as the shadow of the pot was set down over the fire, blanketing Conrad in darkness until all that remained were the gray eyes of the dog, Jude, upon him.

“She only brings back the ones we burn.”

---

The night was difficult, Conrad couldn’t escape the unease writhing in his skeleton. Somehow, it was like he knew that the great dog, Jude’s eyes were still on him. They watched him through the darkness, through the walls, and right into the bedchambers as he tossed and turned. Conrad relented himself to his frustration with them, pushing up and out of his sheets and climbing up from the floor where was sleeping for the night. He stepped to the far side of the small room of the hostel, picking up their bags and checking them, trying to make himself useful despite his lack of sleep. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well check they were fully stocked for the journey ahead. 

The clinking and clattering of buckles and ropes woke Yael from his slumber on the bed with a groan. The young man’s eyes forced themselves open to look down at Conrad tending to the bag and called out to him, “Conrad, what time is it?”

“Go back to sleep, boy.” Conrad corrected his behavior, as Conrad repeatedly felt he had to do. 

“You need to sleep, old man.” Yael insisted, pushing himself up out of bed and rubbing his face to force himself awake. Conrad snarled back at him to correct such an accusation, “I am fine on the mountain. You are young. Go back to sleep so you do not hold me back on the climb by passing out.”

“I am getting out of bed now, Conrad.” Yael insisted yet again, crawling out of the bed. Conrad snatched up the bags and rushed out into the hallway, trying to escape Yael’s persistence to go wallow and snarl to himself in peace. Conrad threw on his coats and stepped outside into the snow, bundling himself and pressing onwards to do his work outside. Yael soon followed in nothing but his night garments, the wind whipping against the young man like a flail upon an invader. Conrad set to barking at Yael once more, “Go inside!”

“You need to go back to bed, Conrad!” Yael countered, the two buffeting against one another as the wind buffeted against them. 

“I am checking the supplies!” Conrad rambled, trying to go through the bag once again, trying anything he can to distract himself from Jude’s forlorn gaze still sinking into his mind. Yael reached over and tried to take the bag from him, but Conrad held it steady, taking the time to look Yael up and down as he shivered in the cold. “You will freeze out here, boy!”

“You need to go to bed.” Yael repeated. Conrad couldn’t bolster a verbal response, and instead tore his own coat off and shoved it over Yael’s arms to warm him up. Conrad howled again in Yael’s face, “Go back inside and warm yourself by the fire you fool!”

“I go. When you do, you bitter old man!” Yael barked right back, putting Conrad in his place. Conrad growled to himself a bit more, before looking through the window of the hostel past Yael’s steeled gaze. Inside, by the fire, Jude was asleep. He felt the terror of the dog’s gaze rest within his heart, and he looked back to Yael’s glaring visage and complied, “Aye. If that’s what you need to sleep.”

“Good.” Yael yielded, picking up the bags for the older man and carrying it for him. Conrad still didn’t relent for his complaints, 

“I was trying to ensure you nearly didn’t get me killed again.”

“Of course.” Yael led the old man inside.

“Do not think it’s out of fondness.” 

“Of course not…” Yael closed the door behind Conrad, sealing them both within the hostel to let the cold vacate them yet again. Yael led Conrad back to his blankets on the floor, where Conrad lay down once more. 

“You needn’t worry yourself about me, old man.” Yael told him, taking off Conrad’s coat and offering it back to him. Conrad snatched it like he was insulted by the very idea, “I don’t want to be dragged down, is all. Can’t bear the thought of having to take your body back to whatever grieving widow you’d leave behind. Too much extra work.”

Yael rolled his eyes, then assured Conrad in the only way he could, “Set yourself to sleep. I’ll do the same. We’ll set out in the morning.”

Conrad waited as Yael climbed back into his bed above, then finally relaxed when he knew the young man was asleep. Tired travelers make for dead ones, and he knew that, and while he tried to push himself back asleep, he couldn’t escape that dreaded feeling that the dog would be waiting for him when he awoke.

---

When morning did come, Yael sought to tie the knots for the climb ahead, his hands cold, his body tired. Inside, the dogs had curled up around Yosef, the ghoulish monk gently petting them as they rested and warmed his body. Up above, darkened clouds swirled, lost in the shadows of whispered winds that surged down and around and through everything, like rapids. Yael tried to rehearse his method to himself, the method he had tried to rehearse the entire trip. The knot that he had nearly killed Conrad and himself with his failure prior to their arrival. 

“Hold the loops, up and over, wrap around three times…pass it through the… where is the other… loop?” Yael began muttering to himself as he was tying the knot, only for a bark to come from behind him, followed by heavy footsteps. 

“Boy! Setting to get us killed again are you?” Conrad snarled as he butted in to look at the rope, the mangled binds soon dissembling under scrutiny. Yael shifted back as Conrad barged in and showed him the rope, “This? See this? Three loops, then three more to secure, and then slip it through the small one at the top, understood?”

Yael nodded, “Yes. Yes sir.”

“Show me your pack.” Conrad demanded, and Yael turned around. Conrad went to each strap, each buckle, then pulled it as taught as he could, “You are only. As secure. As your travel companion. I will not be dragged off a cliff because you couldn’t keep on a bag.”

Conrad began to go through the pouches on the pack, closing them, before reaching one in particular. Yael’s rations had gone low on the trip up here. An inexperienced climber like him would surely starve before he reached the other side. Conrad peeked to see if Yael’s back was turned. Yael caught Conrad in his periphery, then asked, hesitantly, “Is everything alright?”

Conrad barked at him again, “Eyes forward!” and Yael complied, facing away from Conrad. Conrad reached into his own pack, taking out his own rations of jerky, before shoving them into Yael’s pack. This, of course, caused some alarm from the younger climber, who asked, “What was that?”

“I was closing the pack! Tightening the straps!”

“It felt like you just put something in there!” Yael countered and Conrad swerved to look Yael in the face with a gutural snarl, “I was tightening the straps. And if you say anything different, I’ll leave you with one less tooth in that empty head of yours, got it?”

Yael fearfully nodded, and Conrad stormed off to tend to his own bag. All the while, Yael stared up at the mountain cresting above them, the snow and this little cottage below like sand castles and etchings on the beach, ready to be wiped clean without a second thought by the tide coming in.

---

Cold wind snapped and lashed past the bundled faces and frost torn skin. Their hair was laced with ice and their eyes battered by whipping flakes, yet still they trekked up and up, trudging through the Swiss Alps. Their toes were numb, their fingers chilled, yet still they had to climb to reach passage to Rome. They called and yelled, but could not reach each other, for the winds were too great, and the snow too thick, and to shout was to invite the chill through their body. They pushed on, pressing through when the winds were betrayed by another sound, a deep growling piercing through the vast mountainside. The growling grew and swelled until it built into a roar, cascading down the mountainside was a wave of rushing snow, obliterating everything in its path. The two men braced for impact, calling out for each other before they felt the sudden strike, all at once and then—

Memories flickered in and out of Conrad’s mind. Fears. Sadness. Terror. Horror. He feared for Yael, if Yael would survive the avalanche. He feared for his duty. He feared for himself. Memories of Yosef’s warning about the snowstorm dashed past, memories of Yael standing in the snow, but now they were burdened by something far older and darker. He felt like they were staring at him, staring at him down, sinking into the snow, and that they themselves had the eye of the great black dog, Jude. Then, as the fire was there for him, the gaze of Yosef on him, the door to the hostel open to him, he saw the pot of stew be set over the fire, closing out the light, and the door to the hostel close before him, until all that remained were the grey eyes of the dog watching him. Then, he woke up.

Conrad felt nothing but the despair of the snow over him, thick, cold, his breath halted and empty. Yosef was right. He should have waited. All that remained now, all he could feel was his breath and the snow. He had to hold it, he had to wait. He couldn’t see, but he could hear the dogs, sniffing the layers of snow and ice above him, their barks signaling back to each other. They had to find him, they had to, it was his only way out of this mess. The scrape of claws was salvation, the drool a reassurance, and then he heard it. Digging.

Scraping through and digging up he waited to see the day again. He could return, he could wait it out, wait until it was warm again then do his duty to… to… he heard Yael call out, gasping for breath. The dogs had found him, but not Conrad. Not yet. He had to hope, not yet. There was a coughing and then the muffled sound of Yael being dragged by the dogs, back to the sanctuary, back to warmth. So Conrad waited, and waited.

How long had he been here? How long would he be here? When was he awake and when was he asleep? Was it day or night? All of it blended together. The shadow of it all, the coldness of the snow, like being fused into a wall or sealed away in a tomb. How many hours had passed? Days? Maybe he had already failed his mission. He thought he still had breath. He still held in there, he just was tired, he supposed; so very tired. 

Then he heard it, sniffing, scratching, digging. One of the dogs had found him, he could hear it barking. He felt the weight of the snow be sheared away from him and he opened his eyes to see the beast standing above him. The black dog Jude stared down at him, clearing the rest of the snow and blanketing the sky like the great wolf that swallows the sun. It moved to sniff him. Conrad croaked out a quiet and strained, “No..” as the dog continued to free him and he summoned what little strength he had to drag himself free, repeating, louder, “No!”

The dog stepped back, surprised at the reaction, and Conrad relaxed some. He spoke to it, swallowing his spit and his pride and said, “I’m not dead. See? I’m talking to you. Bring me back to the outpost. Alright? You can do that, aye?”

The dog panted for a moment then wagged its tail. Conrad hadn’t any idea if it had understood him or not, but he knew he needed water and food. He reached a hand out, and the dog moved to intercept it, expecting a pet, only for him to snap at it, then point, “Get me… water and food… while I gather myself, aye?”

It didn’t budge, and instead moved on top of him while he lay there, pushing his head backwards against the snow, causing Conrad to bark out, “Mutt! Stupid beast! Get off me!”

Jude didn’t listen, because Jude had a job to do, and she lay on the man, letting her body heat warm him up. She looked idly while he began to complain and grumble, and by the time he fell silent, she licked the man across the face, which in turn caused him to start complaining and grumbling again. And they waited. Conrad felt warmth in his legs again and took a deep sigh in, the thick scent of wet dog entering his nostrils. “You smell terrible.”

Jude didn’t respond. 

“I feel… like I could walk again. You understand that? Walk?” 

Jude looked down at him quizzically, cocking her head to the side as a wad of drool splattered onto Conrad’s face. Conrad moved his arms around. He still couldn’t feel them, but at least he could move them enough to start lifting himself up. Jude moved back as the climber broke through the layer of snow covering him, the flakes trailing off of him like dust in the wind, but still clinging to his legs. As Conrad moved, he found he couldn’t entirely break his legs from within the deep snow, forcing him to trudge along in the dense blanket that coiled around him like mud. 

Jude just patiently waited for him, watched him, panting cheerfully. A bead of drool plopped onto the snow below as she watched him trudge forward then fall over, his face planting into the snow. She moved over and bit down on the back of his collar, dragging him back up from the cold again. He tried to steady himself on Jude, gradually standing once more to his feet, “...Thank you.” he said. “That was good. Good.” 

He huffed then began to trudge forward yet again, Jude supporting him part of the way as they pressed forward down the winding snow path down the mountain. Down, down, and far they went, the thick cliffs and icy patches only broken by Conrad and his companion leading him back to where he belonged, when the two came upon a sight unfamiliar to Conrad. Evergreen trees, stretching into a forest of no ground, only the shells of the ice and snow floating at their trunks, and the roots reaching downwards into a vast empty abyss. It seemed both impossibly long, but fleeting, as wildlife zipped through it without thought. Birds flittered and flew up from the roots before perching in one of the branches, chirping away before zipping away and out of sight. One landed nearby Conrad on a smaller tree in the abyss, its feathers were strange and tangled, knotted like wool and its body was padded, sewn together like a toy, but there was no mistaking the eyes and beak as very real and very alive. It was composed almost entirely of strings of thread, knitted fates passing through the forest, before breaking away and turning into other birds that flocked to and fro.

“What… is this? This wasn’t on the path before?” Conrad asked, then looked to Jude, “How… how is this possible? Is this the work of God?”

Jude said nothing, because Jude was a dog. She stepped out and stood, floating over the vast abyss as if it had an unseen floor. She panted, turning back to him and licking her lips as if nothing was amiss. Conrad rubbed his eyes, grunting in surprise and alarm, “My eyes must be playing tricks. Not enough food or water I suppose…”

He attempted to walk forward, his foot slipping and dropping into the void below. He caught himself on a wayward root sticking out of the ground, gasping and yelping as he retreated back to safety, dragging himself back on top of the edge. Conrad shuffled back away from the cliff, his eyes locked to the abyss below, then to Jude, cheerfully floating above it. Jude sat down and yawned, looking at him without a care in the world as she sat over the endless abyss, waiting for him to follow.

“What devilry is this?” Conrad exhaled, and Jude trotted over to him, trying to lick his hand. Conrad recoiled in horror and disgust, “Get away!”

Jude whined then stepped back and away from him, sulking to the side while Conrad recovered himself. He lay flat on his stomach, then stuck his hand over the edge, feeling around before eventually pushing it below the edge and finding nothing on the other side to stand on. This would make movement impossible, but there had to be a way across, right? The dog was doing it. Perhaps the path was merely unseen? Or perhaps, much like the snow around the trees, the dog was floating because it was covered in the white powder?

Conrad huffed and scooped up some snow, tossing it over the abyss and scattering it in small powdered flakes. Confirming his suspicion, the snow stayed in place, hovering over the abyss much like Jude had, much like the snow around the trees did. Conrad cackled proudly, and stood himself up then looked at Jude, “Eh, pretty clever? Not bad. Not bad at all.”

Then, hesitantly, he stepped forward where the powder floated above the abyss, and stood over the vast drop. He floated there, much like Jude did, as if standing on an unseen floor. He laughed and clapped his hands, then began to go from tree to tree, scooping up more snow and tossing it ahead of him to spread more of it. He passed by flowers laced with ice that trailed downward into vast webs of roots. Fallen, hollow trees floated upside down for squirrels and vermin to crawl up and down like a tube, hopping from branch to root to branch. Hives of bees and wasps acted independently of the world, floating in the sky like a star in a solar system of constantly vigilant insects fetching more to grow their world as it rotated in the center of their everything. Fungi created glowing slithers of light like a mold on the air, heaving as it floated through the void like algae on an ocean. 

Yet, these sights were beyond Conrad, lost to his excitement, while Jude patiently wandered through them, the snow gradually trailing off her form. He didn’t take time to revel in the sights, the impossibility, the grand beauty of the world around him as he rushed himself towards the next step and the next step. As he walked across the snow his boots kicked off more and more snow into the abyss below him, scattering off like dust in the wind before finally he rushed and ran like a child, tossing more snow and springing across the forest abyss until he reached the end of the forest itself. And then there was just the abyss. He stood on the path he had made for himself, looking out over the nothing before him. Then he turned back, thinking maybe he could grab more snow from the trees, before looking back over the abyss. He could swear he saw the way forward on the other side, if he could just make it that little bit further. So, he went back to the trees and began to scoop the snow from their base, tossing more and more ahead to make his bridge.

Jude watched from afar, sitting over the abyss without issue.

Conrad ran back and forth between the trees, clawing and scooping up whatever snow he could to get further and further to the other side of the chasm, only to see that he had run out of snow. He could see the other side, just out of reach, and he looked down over the abyss below, nothing but the vast void awaiting him without the snow to mark his way. Maybe he could jump it, try to reach the other side? 

He looked down at his boots, still caked with snow and ice, then sat down. He began to scrape off the snow around his boot, tossing it ahead to make more of the bridge. This caused Jude to whine, stepping in and barking at him as he continued to do this on one shoe. 

“Shut up, I know what I’m doing!” Conrad barked back before continuing to toss off more of the snow from his boot. With each scrape, he felt a pain, twinges of it running through his body like a current, like he was running sandpaper along his nerves. Yet, still he picked the snow off his boot, determined to reach the other side of the chasm, even as bits of the boot seemed to fall away with it, causing a stinging sensation like an open wound. Jude continued to bark, until finally Conrad’s boot was cleared of snow and he lost all feeling in his leg entirely, slipping it on one side into the abyss below. He yelped, his foot dangling below him, passing through the flakes of snow without the snow on his boots to keep him afloat, and without the ability to move it all. He grimaced, then grit his teeth, “It’s fine. I don’t need it!”

He hobbled on one foot, stepping forward and still unable to reach the other side of the cliff. He took a hop back then grit his teeth, knowing he would have to jump it, before Jude stepped in front of him with a bark. He fell back still on one foot before snapping at the dog, “Get out of my way! Get out of my–”

Then he saw, perhaps truly saw, that Jude had no snow on her, yet she walked across the chasm without issue. And so he reached out a hand for her and rested his hand on her back to push himself up. As he touched the beast, he felt the feeling return to his leg once more so he could walk. Jude stared up at him, eyes dolefully staring into his, compassionate, understanding, and begging for him never to do that again, all without words. She turned and carefully led him before stepping forward and passing across the chasm with him. He held the dog all the way across, walking without worry and without slipping until he reached the end of the chasm. When he reached the other side, he looked back to Jude, and hesitantly said, “If I had some jerky I’d… I’d give you some.”

Jude wagged her tail, barked, then continued down the path ahead, with Conrad soon following close behind. The dog had some use after all. Perhaps he had been too harsh with it. It had dragged him out of the snow, guided him across the chasm. But, Conrad reasoned, the dog also led him to the chasm to begin with. Something was strange here, and he wasn’t sure what it was. 

Jude pressed forward to a large cave on the side of the mountain. It was small, cramped, and uncomfortable, a dark crooked passageway down into gravel and stone. It looked like a death trap, anyone stupid enough to go down there would end up lost to time. Conrad sneered at the dog, then said, “We’ll go around. Just got out of the snow, not looking to get lost in a cave.”

Jude patiently stared at him then turned and jumped down into the cave, perching herself on a rock before looking back at him with an expectant stare and a whine that had become a pattern. Conrad turned away, then repeated, “No! I won’t even fit down–”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Jude hopped up from the stone and chomped onto his boot, snatching it from his foot before rushing off into the cave.

“Hey!” Conrad slid back on his rear before shouting after the dog, “That’s not a toy! Stupid dog! Gah!”

But all he could hear was his voice, echoing through the cave and through the darkness. He snarled to himself before resigning to his fate and stepping inside. The cavern was dark, and cold, the stone was like ice, but dry and unchanging. He could barely make out anything in the dark before he was joined by a familiar pair of eyes looking at him from the dark, the two gray irises that knew so much yet said so little, staring intently at him.

“Jude! Give that back!” Conrad barked, but Jude only leaned forward in excitement, like it was a game, her tail’s swishing echoing as it smacked against the rock walls of the cave. As Conrad got closer to take the boot back from her, she ran back further into the cave through a narrow crack in the stone. Conrad huffed, before stepping forward once again, the smooth rocks below him skittering and diverting below his gait before he forced himself into the crack. He had to bend his knees down, moving slowly and steadily through the sharp rocks and ducking his head down into the cramped space. He exhaled short breaths before pressing through the narrow tunnel, his face an inch from the sharp, weathered stone. At one point he was forced to sit down on the sharp rocks just to slide and fit through, and the chill and feeling of being buried alive once again seemed to return to him. This went on for a good five minutes before seeing a light curling around the side of the cave.

There, set in a larger cavern, marred by clay on one side and trailing down from an opening, was a massive wall of symbols, ancient and marked. Conrad stepped through, his foot brushing against his stolen boot that had been set to the side, waiting for him. Jude patiently sat beside the mural, before looking back at Conrad expectantly. Conrad stepped in, looking about the cavern, but mostly at the wall as he put back on his boot. He recoiled at the drool, but it was nothing unexpected at this point. The wall however, was like nothing he had ever seen. He tied his boot up, then moved to look at it, his feet sinking slightly as he passed the deep clay and gravel set beside the wall. 

Though the light was dim, he could make out some of what was here. Stick figures, drawings, of people standing with spears, or standing side by side. Others had written things in languages he didn’t understand, but he could understand their intention. Footsteps, handprints, writing next to drawings, some even held aloft on the walls. He recognized a few similarities, the odd phrase, the odd name. These were visitors. All of them were visitors to this cold place. Some had left professions of love, professions of spite, crude humor and illustration, but all of them said the same thing through millennia. They may not have intended it, but through time and before time, it was clear they left their mark on this world. That mark could be anything, it was anything, but no matter the phrase, no matter the intention, there was a continuous reminder that just leaving such markings entailed, ‘I was Here’. 

Conrad had a moment of reflection. Here in the lonely cold, here far from civilization, here he could see something so profoundly… human. He had seen the fantastical, yes, floating above the abyss, but what is more human than to declare that ‘I was Here’? What was more human than to declare that you were alive and felt love and hate, even before language could be spoken, even before there was the thought of speaking at all? Those figures were wandering the same processions, traveling hand in hand, traveling alone, all of it said that people lived, and though they may be gone, these markings, these emotions and remnants of them will always be here. And they will always have a part of them here.

Jude stared at Conrad, waiting.

Conrad stared back at Jude in disbelief, revelation coming to him that could only come to someone so far from anyone else, so far from expectation, so far from the known. 

“What are you?” He asked, his breath cold and shallow, “Because you don’t behave like a dog. Not like any I’ve seen.”

Jude waited.

“You want me to write something don’t you? Why? Why do you care? Why did you lead me across that chasm? Why did you try to stop me from cutting the snow from my boot, how did you know what it would do? …Why… Why do you care so much? About me??”

Jude waited.

“I am no one. I am not king nor conqueror. Just a sad old man, who shall be forgotten. Why would you care?” Conrad exhaled at the beast, his breath cold and distant from him as he stared into the grey eyes of the beast. 

“I have done nothing but hurt you. And scorn you. And fear you. Why do you care? That is not part of your duty.”

Jude stepped over to Conrad and sat by his leg, looking up at him. She felt warm. Conrad hesitated, then reached down and petted her head. Here in the den of what was human, what was inhuman extended itself unconditionally into compassion. Of course she had to be here, because there was no one else. No one else to guide him across the chasm, to pull him from the snow, no other beast or man that would forgive and love him or anyone without hesitation, without remorse. Conrad looked to the wall, then reached down into the rocks and gravel below him and plucked out a sharp stone, before stepping up to the wall and writing, 

“Conrad was here”

Before taking a step back and admiring his work. Jude huffed, then stood up and stretched, and walked out of the cavern, back into the light of the sun outside. Conrad looked up at the wall, and felt his name on it, trailing each letter with his fingers. He smiled lightly and painfully, like he knew a secret he didn’t want to know or admit to himself, then pressed on after Jude.

Conrad found the way out of the cave much easier than going in. He passed along the broken clay and gravel, his boots leaving nary an imprint as he moved around the cold rock and stone towards the light. A deep pool rested beside him, the skeletal remains of man and monster alike resting far below. He thought back to his words to Yael and the dogs of the sea which would take sailors back to shore. Jude didn’t act like them. Jude didn’t act like a dog. She loved like a dog, but she knew too much for an ordinary beast. He didn’t even know this breed could be all black, but he knew he was being led somewhere. Somewhere at the edge of the dark, edge of the mountain, or maybe nowhere at all. It walked with intention, and he could respect that. He took some time to stare down at the bones in the cave’s waters below, a great dragon from before mankind was curled around a nest of scattered skeletons. A nest. Conrad never had kids, he always thought he’d make a bad father. His treatment of Yael was enough proof of that. But, if this horrifying skeletal monster resting in the cold waters down below could have been a parent, maybe he could have been as well. Then maybe he wouldn’t have gotten stuck here. Maybe if he had made better choices, he wouldn’t be here at all, left alone to be just another marker on the mountain. 

Jude barked for Conrad’s attention, calling to him from a bright light shining into the cave as the exit was around the corner. She forced him from his dread, and forced him onwards. Conrad turned himself away from the fossils and pushed towards the light. Cresting up and out of the cave, down the snowy mountainside, was the hostel, the sound of dogs distantly barking, Conrad could make out the smoke billowing out of the chimney, the smell of fresh soup, the rich scent of salted meats, he could only anticipate the warmth of the fire to come. Conrad’s training and experience flocked from his mind, thinking only of warmth and reuniting with the others. Even those foul fowl devouring beasts that would tackle him down and insist upon slobbering upon him, he wouldn’t be remiss to see. He began to rush down the mountain, trudging through the snow, and Conrad, for the first time in a long time, felt like he had breath to laugh: a hearty bellow as he rushed down the mountainside, calling out, “Yael! Yael! Step out so I may embrace you!”

Jude rushed up ahead of Conrad, far faster than him, but just as eager seemingly. Out from the door below emerged Yosef, who looked up to Conrad and Jude, then called back inside to an unseen resident. Conrad called again,

“Yael! Yael! Let me see your face! Yosef, I thank you for your welcome! I have returned!”

“Whatever is the matter? Shall I set soup on?” Asked Yael as the young man stepped out of the hostel, looking at the monk. Yosef pointed to Conrad and Jude, then answered, “Your friend Conrad has returned.”

“Yes! I have returned. I’m so happy to see you.” Conrad laughed as he neared the two, stepping out of the snow. He felt his feet nearly buckle below him. 

“Oh…Conrad…” Yael stepped forward, not towards Conrad, but towards Jude.

“Yes, Jude has done her work…” Yosef commented gravely, still more focused on the dog than Conrad himself. Conrad looked at Yael and said, “Yael, it’s me, I’m here, I’m well, I just feel a bit…chilly…”

And then Conrad saw what Jude had brought down, his face frozen, cold to the touch, his body having been dragged back down the mountain, dead, and still. Conrad gazed upon his own corpse, dragged down the mountain, back home for burning, as Jude knew to do. Yael stepped down to his knees and put his hand on Conrad’s lifeless forehead, and began to whisper a prayer to him.

“Yael. No… I’m here. I’m right here. Friend… I’m here. I’m behind you.” Conrad’s stern demeanor began to crackle and break as he wavered, trying to set a hand out on Yael’s shoulder, resting it on him. But Yael could not feel it, not like he normally would. Conrad inhaled, his breath holding before shakily exhaling and looking to Jude and the monk.

“The beast plays tricks. I have seen it. Turn around. Eyes forward! To me! Do not turn away!” Conrad whimpered, whining for Yael to turn to face him. A rage boiled up within Conrad as his panic grew within him and he roared at Yael, “Do not turn from me! Turn and see me! Turn to me!”

Yael turned around, and for a brief moment, Conrad felt reprieve, before he saw the look in Yael’s eyes. Conrad had felt the icy cold stare of Jude upon him for so long, so he knew well when someone was staring and not even seeing he was there. Instead, Yael was staring at Yosef behind him as the monk paced around beside Jude. 

“She has done well. He will be burned, and put to rest.” Yosef said, and offered Jude a slice of liver for her work. Conrad could only stare at Yael, every fiber of his being wishing he could comfort him, tell him that he was here, tell him that he was alright, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything but watch.

“Why did you bring me here? To torture me? To remind me what I cannot have? What I have lost?” Conrad asked, his voice barely a whisper, before looking to Jude. Jude could only stare at him, waiting. 

“Why would you do this to me?” Conrad asked again. Jude moved towards him with an empathetic whine, trying to rest her head against him but he slapped the dog away with a bark, “Get away!”

Jude let out a surprised yelp and backed away with her tail between her legs, looking at Conrad sadly as Conrad collapsed, his teeth gritted and his hands clawing at his scalp. Jude turned back towards the hostel and walked inside, before patiently waiting for Conrad. Conrad kneeled there until evening came, his soul shaking from the cold that ran up and down his frame, or whatever he was that was left of it. Jude waited for him outside all the same, as the winds trailed along her fur, and the snow trailed up around her head like a gravestone. As the sun was setting, Conrad followed, his footsteps falling apart into snow behind him as his boots, his legs, everything, crumbled away into the flakes his walking had left in his wake. He knew now he was a spirit, waiting to be set free, and he stepped inside, waiting beside Jude. 

That night, wood was set down before the hostel, Yosef and Yael carrying it back and forth between feeding the dogs whatever scraps they could find. Yael seemed downtrodden, broken even, he had suspected that Conrad had died upon the mountain, but had long abstained from confessing himself to the true nature of it. His feelings towards the man were complicated, but never had he been faced with the death of someone he knew and trusted. Yosef seemed at ease, a trait that lended Yael well into questioning him, “You are a Holy man, Yosef?”

“That I am.” Yosef’s eyes trailed from Jude by the fire, over to Yael. Yael failed to notice Yosef’s gaze and asked, “Is there a Heaven for Conrad?”

Yosef nodded slowly, then offered to the boy, “Heaven is a concept that has long tacked itself into my mind. The Greeks believed that the afterlife was a deep underground cavern, where all mortals would go to be remade. I have met travelers that were convinced they would be reborn into cats, dogs, and fleas. I have met strangers of all faiths and afterlives, but I think out of all of the great prospects of God, Heaven terrifies me the most.”

“Why is that?” Yael inquired, his attention grabbed.

“A world of never ending happiness is a world that never ends. But things must always end. Without an end to life, it has no meaning, legacy has no purpose, noise has no purpose without the quiet, warmth no bliss without the cold. I think perhaps the idea of Heaven could exist, an afterlife where you find happiness, but happiness doesn’t mean betterment. I have seen many wealthy men grow bored of their happiness, so they search for anything else to fill it. No, Heaven would offer acceptance, rehabilitation, improvement. The chance to be you in a world without the burdens of the world. Then, to learn to be a better you, before you move onto the next step. So, if you ask me, is Conrad in Heaven? I say yes. Because Heaven is not something that can exist as a constant, it is something that is achieved through understanding, compassion, and love, a way to ease the transition to what’s next. It is the last sweet dream before we sleep forever, or wake up to the new day.” 

Yael stood there, stunned, but processing what Yosef said. Yosef tilted his head and politely asked, “Does that help?”

“Yes,” Yael confessed, seeking his feelings on the matter, “Yes, I think it does.”

 Jude stayed by the fire, with Conrad resting against the wall. Conrad stared off into nothing, lying against the warmth of the hearth hoping he could feel it, but to no avail. After he waited long and hard, Jude stood up from her lounging and walked over to him, catching Conrad’s attention as the dog, unlike every other creature here, man or beast, stared into his eyes. Jude laid down on Conrad’s lap, resting her head against his stomach and slowly breathing. No different than when he was buried in the snow, Conrad could feel the warmth of the dog, the slow breaths of an ancient beast that knew many names, that wore many faces, but always bore the soul of a friend. He rested his hand on it, and began to pet Jude, cuddling with the dog for warmth and inhaling and exhaling alongside her. He recalled when he first arrived here, seeing her resting her head on her side, and wondered if she had been comforting some other lost soul from the mountain.

This went on until finally, the pyre was ready, and both Yosef and Yael stepped outside. Yosef sought about chanting something into the flames. At first, Conrad thought it was a hymn, but upon listening closer, it was something far more familiar. 

“Lunden, Benedict, Euphemia, Alaric, Drustan, Gerold…” Yosef recited, tossing ash into the pyre from a small sack at his waist, all the many others that he’s had to burn, all the many others who Jude brought down the mountain to come home. Jude got up from napping on Conrad’s ghostly frame before stretching in place. She looked back at him, and Conrad got up, knowing now, far too well, that the dog wanted to help. He stood up, and followed her to the pyre, before standing next to Jude as she sat down to watch.

Yael stood before the monk, the many dogs, and the remains of Conrad, and spoke.

“Conrad, you were my best friend. And I know you’d hate me for saying that. You were stubborn, bitter, and ruthless as they come. You were scared that we’d think less of you if you showed the world how much you cared. How much you wanted to care. And in doing so, it is hard to imagine a world where you’d be at peace with what’s next. Because you wanted greatness, you wanted certainty. But to be great is circumstantial of other things. Like guiding a young climber through the mountains, and making sure he had more rations than you, so when the dogs picked me up, I didn’t starve. Like making sure my equipment was in order. Like making sure I got to sleep on the bed, while you slept on the floor. All men, all people, want the same three things in life, to accomplish a great feat, to leave a legacy for themselves, and to love and be loved. Maybe that’s four… actually.”

Yael chuckled. Conrad’s breath had come to a halt, exhaling tears and sniffling snot and drool as he listened to the eulogy, listened to the last words he would ever hear, never thinking that anyone would ever think kind of him to begin with.

“You were right, you know, about me having someone down the mountain. She and I are expecting a girl… I hope that she would like the name Constance. I know I would like that. You were a rash, obstinate, belligerent brute, and I will spend every day of my life missing you. But know wherever you go next, that we will remember you with love in our hearts, and I owe that to you.”

Icy tears fell down from Conrad’s spirit and he felt the brush of fur on his leg, a thick jowl of drool looking up at him. Jude, The Reaper, Thanatos, Morrigan, whatever name it called itself, led him to the pyre. Yael set a torch then tossed Conrad’s body aflame, while Conrad’s spirit stared at the blaze as it grew. It felt warm. Truly warm. He reached towards it, then looked back at Jude as she watched, then turned and left to go inside. She trusted him to know what to do next. Yosef finished his chanting as the ash in his pouch ran empty, “Kenric, Grimwald… Conrad.” 

Conrad touched the flames, smiling through his tears as he felt the warmth run along his body and spirit, then stepped into them, thinking one final thought, “Conrad was here.”