The Rubbish Realm

Chapter 18

Melton sat himself down, the burnt grass crumbling into ash under him. It was an uncomfortable feeling, kinda like biting a coin. Coins... he decided to take an inventory of his satchel, reminded of how Evander had copied him with it. He let himself cry for a little before going back to work, wiping them away with the back of his hand. Now that he had time, he could finally see what he'd put in there over the years.
The candy marbles were on top, for obvious reasons. He figured he might as well count them, inventory them mentally. Eight in total, anger, surprise, happiness, compassion... He nodded slightly, thinking through that one's many possibilities. ...sadness, no more fear, creativity, stealth, and black. I wonder what black does... He carefully pulled the drawstring on the bag tight again, he couldn't afford to lose them. If he escaped somehow, they'd be invaluable. Once again, he noted the lack of a brown marble. Are they just fantasy after all?
Setting them to his right, he reached into his satchel again, this time pulling out a lighter he'd made way back when. Odd, I thought I'd only made one of those. Unfortunate Evander had to take the other one... no, we're not crying! His eyes narrowed, as if glaring at somebody who wasn't there, then he set it with the marbles. Next.
His fingers came across something familiar, his toolkit. Taking it from the satchel, he checked to see if everything was there... hammer, whirltwirler, whirls... he traced their metal spiral around and around to the sharp point at the end, remembering the many pictures he had hung with them back when he was younger, back when he was innocent. Now he just used it for inventions, especially the little ones. There were exactly 15 whirls, two molds, a good and a chipped whirltwirler, a little hammer, some cheap sheet metal he'd gotten from a street corner, and a bottle of pine resin just in case the whirls didn't work. Not great, but it will do in a pinch.
Putting those down with the others, he looked into the satchel for something to catch his eye, something edible. Sure enough, there was the traveler's bread he kept in there for emergencies, freshly stocked from Amberly's pantry. If he was careful, he could live on that for weeks... if he could find water. His flask was full, yes, but even a full flask would only last so long, especially if he were to walk towards shelter. He set it down carefully with the others. That would be a later issue.
Feeling the bottom of the bag, he found his throwing knives. Wincing, though not from pain, he pulled them out carefully. Their metal handles were starkly cold against his skin, unlike the staff he was used to. They felt foreign, painful... ...different... they'd draw blood. Just the thought of blood still made Melton nauseous, even after so many battles with Evander- no, he mustn't think of Evander. Crying wastes liquid. He chuckled weakly at such a poor reason, blinked hard a few times, and turned back to work. It'd take his mind off of it.
He found his money pouch, hidden as it was under the knives (to deter thieves). 30 (insert currency), 5 (another currency), and a couple of diamonds just in case. Where had I gotten those? He went through his and Evander's adventures, wondering if he could find when - no, not Evander again, why does every single stinking item in this accursed satchel have to bring me back to Evander? He curled into a ball, shaking, if only to avoid crying. All their adventures together, and he's taken out by a house fire? Breathe, breathe, it'll be ok - BUT IT WON'T BE OKAY! He's gone! He won't be back! The full realization of it finally hit, and Melton couldn't contain himself any longer - he wept.