ONE
Rows and rows of black birds perched on the wires, silently observing and judging the by-passers with their beady little eyes. They stare, a few crows would reap through the air. Carefully, they move and follow.
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The town moved on brilliantly with their lives, the pond at the centre of the village reflecting the rays from the sun. She had her hood up, the young lass, keeping her head down as she travelled through the bustling streets of the morning sales. The brown cloak donned on her shoulders would ruffle now and then from her consistent movement. She tilted her head up slightly, the hood sliding off an inch. Men and women ignored the girl that stood out from the crowd, trying their best not to meet her eyes. The corner of her lips curled up at the sight of a white crow.
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Its head snapped around to return her gaze, crowing a loud cry before spreading its unusually large wings and fluttered away. She tugged her leather gloves further up and flicked her left wrist outwards. A shine caught her attention from the roof, and she continued on.
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‘You found him,’ she whispered. Her green eyes shot to the side for a moment before focusing back on the many pairs of shoes on the cobblestone road before her.
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‘Of course, I did,’ replied a gruff voice, confirming that her companion did not get lost in the sea of people. ‘Up ahead, to your right.’
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She nodded and quickened her pace. The villagers shied away, as though there was a shield around her. A young man appeared beside her, staring ahead with head held high. His loud footsteps sounded against the ground, earning a slight grimace from the shorter one. She kicked his boots softly and the noise receded.
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They stopped before a drinking bar. The girl reached into her cloak and produced a vial of shimmering golden. Knocking on the door, the duo entered to meet a chaos of villagers drunk and sober. A stuffy looking man sat near the bar, flinching ever so slightly when a loud noise sounded. She neared him, and placed the glass vial down gently. He looked at her and let out a sigh.
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A large heavy pouch was thrown at her head. Catching it, she made an ugly retort and sat down next to her client together with her partner. ‘A mug of booze,’ she had called above the chatters of the customers to the bartender as she turned her head to the client. ‘Care to count them?’ The pouch was passed to the older companion.
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‘As you wish,’ he commented sarcastically and pulled the strings loose, opening the bag to find a mountain of gold. ‘This will take some time,’ he noted. ‘Busy yourself with something.’
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The other smiled and readjusted her hood. Only then did she notice the absence of their client. Stifling a groan, she weaved through the dense tables and chairs to the exit. Just as she stretched her hand towards the knob, the door was slammed open. Her hand formed straight and pushed against the wood; eyes wide at the unexpected event.
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A white clothed group of men entered the area. Her head was angled towards the floor again, she herself swiftly blending into the customers with the dim lighting Large, hasty steps were taken as she walked to her companion. Grabbing his shoulder, she felt him tense and pull the strings of the pouch together after pouring the gold back inside. He stood and took lead, heading towards the kitchen.
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An employee stopped him, blocking the narrow doorway. He frowned and followed the order. The girl plucked open her waterskin bottle and splashed it on his back, which he shivered slightly to at the sudden coolness, and gave a sheepish smile to the employee.
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He motioned his friend to keep an eye out as he started to reason with the person before him. ‘Lad,’ he started. ‘You see, my back is covered with sweet water. Be a good sport and let us pass.’
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The young lad did not move but looked at the girl.
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‘My dear,’ said the companion. ‘She didn’t want to be left alone.’ The employee finally looked convinced, and moved.
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A loud crash rang through the bar and customers rushed out, bottlenecking the main entrance. The duo had their backs against each other, hands resting by their belts. The group of men were at the middle of the bar, their swords drawn from their leather holsters and aimed at a poor figure. With a jolt, they realized that it was the client that had slipped away just now. He had his hands held up as a sign of surrender, legs trembling at a sharp blade just above her heart.
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The man threatening the client stood out from the others, having a different air around him with a decorated metal holster and a gleaming rapier in his white gloved hand. Sighing, the girl and the young male strolled to the seemingly hostile group and sided with their customer.
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‘I apologize,’ the young male said, clipping his twin battle axes off his belt and stared at the attacker with hard eyes. ‘I can’t have you harming my employer now.’ He noted the blue trimmed coats each of them wore, and emblem sewn onto their chest pocket. He gave a questioning glance to the girl, who shrugged and pulled her hood further down.
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With a strong slice, the rapier was brought back to its holster. Its owner narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the strangers before him. As he took a few steps towards them, a shining vial fell to the wooden floor and was smashed into pieces when the client flinched in fear of the sudden closing of the leader.
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His worker immediately reacted, swinging his axes up and a defensive manner with ease. His knees bent and muscles tensed. Brown eyes, the leader saw. The axe wielding man was not a local. His hand rested on the hilt of his rapier, ready to fight. The youth’s eyes flickered and for a moment, the white-haired swordsman swore he saw purple. The axe swung towards him as the now purple-eyed man roared, ‘Now!’
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A loud staccato penetrated their eardrums, halting their actions for a second. All eyes turned to the girl, who had a gun pointed up at the ceiling, which now bore a hole. Fluttering wings and claws of birds could be heard. The young man took his chance and grabbed her arm, running through the door.
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The remains of the vial were gone, not a drop of gold on the floor. In the group of swordsmen, one let out an irritating smirk.
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‘Did you get it?’ she questioned, taking in breaths of air as she ran. There was no reply. ‘Vain,’ she called louder this time.
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Vain, who was running before her, turned around for a few seconds, waving the successfully fixed vial before her, the gold proudly showing off itself in the light. She let out laughs of relief and sped up to match his pace. ‘We’re off duty now, Spectre. Care to call me by my real name now?’
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She chuckled at his faux face of irritation. ‘Only if you say mine.’
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They settled into a comfortable conversation, Vain muttering the possible names she could have, and her denying all of them, commenting that pigs were to fly should he guessed correctly. Soon, they reached an ancient forest, just a few kilometres away from the village, Egard.
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Clasping their hands together and muttering a small wish for safety, they stepped into the woods and onto the overgrown road. The towering trees blocked the sunlight from reaching inside, and so they trudged on in the fresh, cool atmosphere. Crickets sang and occasionally, the bushes would rustle and out jump would a hare.
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They found themselves before a metal gate, in an opening of the forest. There were no trees inside the fencing, a hole opening up between the branches and leaves, making a hole in the forest. Through the bars, they could spot white pedestals littered all over the area. The raised their knuckles and knocked, their knuckles never fully touching the metal, just close enough to feel the rushing layer of air.
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The gates creaked open after they felt the cover of air. Taking in the familiar scene, Spectre muttered ‘I’m home.’ and went in. This was a garden, a plethora of flora and fauna thriving inside the gates. They would dance along with the constantly blowing breeze every day. She didn’t expect a greeting back, however.
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A lady stood near one exceptionally humongous pedestal, waving her slender fingers at them with a smile. There was a scarf wrapped around her neck, and the air she breathed was visible from the cold. The girl returned the expression and moved to her direction, ignoring the reluctance of her partner of getting into a cold environment. As they neared her, snow began to fall just above their heads. The elder gave an apologetic, soft giggle and opened a metal door fixed into the high pedestal.
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‘Welcome back,’ she voiced her greeting, her voice weary and stuffed. ‘Do ignore the snowflakes, I’m afraid I caught a cold.’
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They passed through the door and started to travel down a long flight of stairs. Every few steps, a torch was placed on the wall, illuminating the dark tunnel.
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The vial was passed to the snowy lady, who took it and wrapped her fingers around it tightly. The glass cracked and grew patterns, before it was turned into an ice cube resting on her hand. With a sneeze, it fell hard at the walls, being crushed into millions of pieces, falling down sparkling. Silence ensued as they put one foot before another, concentrating on not tripping and tumbling down the strangely spaced stairs. Each step could only hold half of their feet, disrupting their balance.
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Vain muttered a few lines about troublesome fixing items and raised his hand and slid it among the glass, ice, and gold. The materials rose and followed him down, copying his hand movements as he mimicked a weaving action. They joined and separated, again and again until they formed back into the shaped of a container, with its liquid inside. He was so focused, Spectre had to heave him back with a teasing smirk after he missed his stepped, almost falling face-first. Their guide merely spectated their antics before inviting herself into the conversation. ‘Here we are.’
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They saw light at the end of the suffocating tunnel, and met a sight of a horribly sick family. All the good atmosphere was sucked away.