Mr. Swelter had hazel eyes. Some days, when Israel would visit his store to buy milk or flour, they would look a brown as rich as the oak wood floor he stood on. In the spring. however, they'd grow greener as the trees blossomed, and they often stayed that way throughout the summer into autumn, when they'd gradually brown once again.
But today, as the skinny and altogether feral looking Swelter sat strapped to the chair on the makeshift stage in the center of town, Israel noticed his eyes; they were blue.
An ice blue.
Swelter's eyes poured over Israel as he singled the giant figure from the crowd around him; gave a slight smirk as he noticed that they often gave Israel quite a bit of space, like they often would. Israel smiled back, though it was brief. No one seemed to notice, they were busy listening to Groan as he rattled his list of "treasonous acts" committed by Swelter- the highest among them being 'affiliation with the occult', being a 'practitioner of sorcery and witchcraft', and murder.
When Swelter had found Israel the day before, he had been running from two strange men who seemed to be hunting him. As their story went, Swelter had infiltrated their wild game farm and attempted to set free the multitudes of wild boar that were there, though they never explained why he ended up just running off with one single boar. After confronting Israel about Swelter the two game farmers combed the woods to eventually find him- at which point the survivor accused Swelter of murdering his toothless companion by means "magically throwing big rocks" as well as "commanding the boar to gore him". Sure enough, when the "authorities" investigated they had found toothless dead with blunt wounds chunked about his body, and a gruesome looking puncture wounds in his groin, stomach, and neck. Swelter was arrested immediately and sentenced to death, and the boar was shot on sight.
Israel never got to hear Swelter's side of the story, so he looked upon this report with skepticism, but the facts were hard to argue with, aside from the "magically throwing rocks" bit, which was odd, since Swelter was a rather frail man and probably lacked the strength to throw anything heavy enough to be lethal, much less several times. Perhaps Israel had just underestimated the man's strength, and so had the two men who hunted him, thus the fact that he did lift them was enough to be deemed "magic". Israel shook his head and looked down at the muddy ground- yesterday's rain had caused a thick mud in the village center, which is why Israel guessed there wasn't the usual turnout for public executions. At least this one would be "humanitarian", since Swelter had always been a valued member of the establishment, but that really didn't make Israel's heavy heart any lighter. He was used to the feeling though, it was almost the same as when he had first heard news of his father's passing. He had hoped he wouldn't ever have to feel it again.
It was time. The crowd stiffened as Groan presented Swelter's death; a small syringe filled with a yellow-tinted clear liquid. Israel glanced up, but quickly looked down again. He would not watch his friend's public execution- he was only there for Swelter's sake. Groan took a few steps towards the man covered in straps, and the two exchanged final words. It was likely Groan apologizing for how things had turned out. To Israel's surprise, Swelter smiled at his executioner; through the sad and brilliantly blue eyes there was no doubt a feeling of acceptance.
Swelter closed his eyes as the syringe was inserted and the liquid was pumped into his veins; Israel knew that he would not be opening them again. A few small bouts of crying could be heard as the final drops were dispensed.
--
Israel maintained a face of granite on his walk home; like yesterday, he wished he had taken the truck, but he reassured himself that it was too muddy and he definitely didn't feel like having to free a stuck vehicle. Israel's stomach was swimming as much as his head. How did Swelter's wife take all of this? Was the rancher's story truth? Had Swelter really murdered someone over a boar?
That last one lingered. Swelter had never really seemed like an animal guy- in fact, Israel had had a few conversations about how they both dislike cats. Most of the people that lived in town didn't really take to wild game- that's why they lived in town.
Israel's head was swimming so much that he felt he was going to be sick. He paused for a moment and leaned his arms and head along the wooden post by the edge of the muddy road. Why did Swelter have to die?
'Israel'
To wind rustled and Iz's head perked up. It was faint, but it almost sounded like something had said his name.
'Israel'
He was sure of it this time. It was Swelter's voice. It was incredibly faint, but Iz recognized it.
He stood tall and rubbed his eyes and temples. He was hearing things- witnessing death was a traumatizing experience, and Israel wanted to at least keep his sanity. A breeze rustled once more, but no ethereal voices were heard.
Suddenly, Israel's feelings of dread were gone. His churning stomach and mind were calmed so quick that Israel almost fell from the feeling. The breeze continued, and Iz had the strange notion that it was pointing to something. It felt as though something was calling to him, but he wasn't sure what. Israel was now completely sure that his sanity had gone with Swelter. But then he saw it.
At first it was little more than horns poking out from behind a tree- Israel had originally mistaken them for strange branches. But it slowly emerged from a shadowy canopy- a brilliant white against a dark green forest.
At first Israel wondered why a goat would be here, but he was quickly influenced to feel that it didn't matter. The goat had noticed Israel, too, and slowly the two started towards each other until the only thing separating the two was the wooden fencing. Israel slowly reached out and touched a horn-
The ground rushed up to meet him.
--
Israel felt a nudge at his hip. Glancing up and back from a face-full of grass Israel saw the goat and he reached out to pat its furry head.
The goat!
Israel jolted up as the grogginess wavered and he came to the realization of what had happened- he remembered touching the horn and then nothing afterwards. He had blacked out.
But something was amiss. Staring at the goat as it stared back- he almost felt connected to it. It was like the feeling you get when you haven't seen a favorite relative in years; as if it was a reunion of Israel and goat. He came to the realization that he was empathizing with the animal- looking at him, Israel could tell that he had also just lost a dear friend.
Iz shook his head and rubbed his eyes once more before standing up. He wasn't surprised that the goat followed him as he started towards home once more, something gnawed at the back of his mind, preventing him from leaving the goat's side. He wondered if the creature had the same feeling.
When they were finally home, he pat the goat on the head and told him to stay where he was- though the act of talking to animals reassured Israel that he was going insane. Once inside, however, the feelings of remorse and dread flooded him once more, and so quickly did they come that Israel was going to be physically sick. He rushed to the bathroom.
He glanced into the mirror after doing what needed to be done, and what he saw hit him like a rock.
Israel's eyes were a dark shade of brown, not too unlike Swelter's in autumn. But he looked and saw his eyes; there were blue.
An ice blue.
