Also, I'd like to know if you think this is worth continuing. ***
“Hey, hey, wait a second, I think I’m missing something,” he paused and placed a hand to his forehead to massage the confusion lines that had set in. A tattoo could just be seen underneath his hand which rested on his cheek; blood purple in colour and the shape of a claw or perhaps a canine.
Someone in the watching crowd snickered, “Maybe it’s your mind.”
The red-headed teenager slowly moved his hand away from his face, letting the tattoo loose for all to see, and let out a short breath, he then continued his statement, sarcasm dripping from his mouth like poison honey, “Okay, I have it now. I stabbed this guy – through the gut mind you – left my sword in him and now, only two clicks later, he’s dancing with whores. I completely understand.”
The man in question, looking considerately far from his best, let out a pathetic whimper and clawed with grimy fingernails at the Red-head’s hand holding him pinned to the wall. The victim appeared to be middle aged, with skin none to thankful to several years of the harsh summers kiss and dark eyes that hid much more knowledge than the usual Artican scholar held.
The man with red hair, aptly defined as Red-head, hands held tightly, gripping the man’s collar lifted him higher and applied more pressure causing the man to begin frothing at the mouth, a white layer of saliva forming a ringlet around his dry-cracked lips. With a harsh glare than seemed to never end, Red-head stated in an iron cold voice, “I think. You have. Some explaining. To do.”
The Artican nodded minutely just seconds before his eyes rolled up into his skull and his body slumped into an unconscious pile of loose limbs.
With a sigh, the youth released his clenched fist, letting the man drop to the floor, and then he proceeded to bend down, grab the man’s leather boot and drag him mercilessly down the creaky wooden stairs. The Artican’s head could be heard thumping on each step on the way down. Traces of the man’s black scraggly hair were snagged by several nails poking up from the boards.
No one tried to stop the pair; no one even made a move. Everyone knew the consequences of meddling in the affairs of a demon’s child; one tainted before birth with the ownership mark of the Hell God himself.
The payment for trifling with the Hell God’s own was death, immediate and irrefutable.
It was dark outside, somewhere near midnight, but as there was no accessible source of light no one in this small town was ever entirely sure. The moon was overshadowed by large ominous grey clouds, the stars barely visible from beneath the heavy midnight haze. Navigating his own way through the streets with the man still in tow, the adolescent’s hair was like a lit beacon in pure darkness.
Axel, now heaving in exertion, a cool sweat upon his body, shivered a little, and set the man down on the floor of his mediocre inn room. The Artican’s eyes flashed open, which was followed by him instantly sitting up and beaming a large verily flawed smile at him, “Damn kid. You’re getting better.”
The green eyed pubescent chuckled, placed a few strategically positioned fingers in his mouth and whistled like a small blue-tail; a lilted harmonious light and fickle tune. A small girl, no more than five years of age, poked her small head around the hallway corner, which was cordially followed by the rest of her body. Her feet, flawless and petite, never touched the floor as she made her way to them. In the blink of the eye she was hovering in front of Axel and Carl. Large dark chocolate eyes surrounded by thick lashes accompanied with pink cherry lips gave her the appearance of a porcelain doll.
Her wings, but a flutter of wind, were only visible when she slept and they were still; gossamer, silky, star coloured threads weaved into thin intricate webs.
The facade now over, Carl resumed his favourite way of sitting; legs bent with feet flat against each other and arms resting in the irregular diamond-like shape, his hands pressed to the floor as he leaned forward subconsciously, anxiety clear on his well worn face.
“Did you get much today, Kyu?”
The flier nodded, her curly brown hair bobbing with her head and replied with a high pitched, but quiet voice, “Kyu.”
The bag held in her hands indeed looked heavily weighted by some sort of hidden treasure. Inside this seemingly poorly made bag, the trio’s stolen delights awaited.
Carl, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips in anticipation, watched intently as Kyu poured the loot onto the timber floorboards. The majority of it tinkled and clinked as coins and jewellery tumbled out into a jumbled heap.
The Artican, eyes only for the sparklies, had already begun hoarding his own quota which included several gold pieces, five wallets and three rubies. Kyu took her portion with a satisfied, “Kyu.”
Axel, staring avidly with his lime green eyes, leaped towards what was left over. Five silvers, one leather wallet, an ancient ornate dagger and a wolf skin covered book. He reached a hand out and picked them all up slowly, savouring the feel of value in his own hands. Placing them into his own backpack, he took one object back out which he had wanted to examine.
The dagger had drawn his attention more than anything else in the pile. As he lifted it to the light of the firefly, he inspected it closer. The hilt consisted of a carved ebony handle as smooth and cool as marble at midnight and in the shape of a dragon wrapped around a stone tower. It was so amazingly detailed that if Axel had the time he was sure he could have counted each individual singular scale on the torso of the dragon’s body.
The blade, itself, was rather sad and looked dull and rusted. Axel scraped a clump of the orange corrosion off, letting it fall to the floor, and checked. Underneath laid a metal he couldn’t quite indentify even with all his experience with “chancing upon” different types of metal and then bartering them for a “fair” price. It sparkled like silver, but appeared to be stronger than even tempered steel. Under careful scrutiny, Axel discovered that parts of it were cracked and still other bits missing.
Tracing a finger over the sophisticated carving, he found himself wondering what it would have been like in its prime.
The dagger of kings and princes; a blade of royalty.
And, thought Axel with a tinge of ironic guilt, now it belongs to demon spawn.
Thoughtlessly he ran his thumb over the edge of it and yelped, pulling back a bleeding appendage. It hadn’t been as blunt as Axel had obviously thought it looked.
Sucking on his thumb, he placed the dagger down carefully inside his bag next to his other new treasures. A greedy smile slapped onto his face he swiped the wallet out and, with practiced finesse, slipped every golden note and silver tome out. Then, his thumb throbbing, he continued to check every available hidey hole for any metal marble sheets, which contained both gold and silver melded together.
In the end, after a tiring search, he only found a number of written messages scribed in language he did not quite understand. After staring at them by the flickering light of the firefly powered lamp he groaned and rubbed at his heavy eyelids. Sleep was a tempting activity in which, currently, Axel wanted to pursue most advertently.
With a sigh Axel staggered to the room’s only bed, fell, with a loud thump and closed his eyes. A few moments passed, and then he felt Kyu creep up and crawl next to him. Axel smiled and rolled over to hug her. Her soft wings vibrated against his face, like an angel’s sweet kiss, and then they stopped altogether; proof that Kyu indeed slept.
He reached over the flier towards the lamp and tapped it twice. The fireflies inside dimmed down and travelled out of the funnel connected to their cages in the main-room. As the last one left darkness fell upon the room and the reassuring rap of the lamp cage gate slamming shut echoed into the silence. Axel slumped back down to the bed and dug his face into Kyu’s back, just above her delicate wings, letting her silk like hair splay over his face. He flicked the thin and completely inadequate blanket over the two of them savouring the sound of Kyu’s gentle snores.
Carl set up at their feet, lounging on top of them as if a cat. His lithe and thin frame weighed extremely little and Axel didn’t mind even when Carl curled up into a ball, his chin resting right on Axel knee digging into it jarring his leg.
Carl’s louder snores drifted over to Axel, creating a relaxing symphony with Kyu’s, a gentle lullaby, and with that final sound of familiarity he was lulled off to the land of dreams with, a hint of tainted humour, his idea of a corny thought, if I were to die now, I would die a happy man.
Light filtered through the holes in the curtain and cast a mist of warmth over Axel causing him to stir. His eyes, glued shut from muck, stayed lazily closed as his mouth let loose a loud yawn. Kyu’s wings flickered momentarily across his face and he let them tickle him until he began to laugh.
Carl let a moan escape his mouth, obviously unhappy with the movement of his personal pillow. One of Carl’s hazel eyes creaked open from his curled position and as the suns warm gaze hit him he let a small hiss and dug his head under the blanket at Kyu’s feet.
His harsh scraggly hair brushed at her feet and soon she began to giggle as well. Axel forced his eyes open and rolled wearily onto his back, gazing up at the cracked ceiling. A leak had obviously not been fixed and the roof was looking worse for wear. Carl, being the sneaky creature he was, slid almost unnoticeably up the bed and in between his two younger friends, “No frisky business last night I hope.”
Kyu, now floating a few hands over the bed flipped over in mid air and turned to glare heartlessly at Carl, her voice sharp and imperial, “Kyu!”
Her small hands then proceeded to continuously slap Carl over the head. Carl, pretending to be overcome by the attack laid up his hands in mock surrender. When Kyu once again regained her normal expression and had stopped Carl, with a secretive smile, launched his own revenge tickle.
He had her in giggle fits after a few seconds. Axel, now watching while laying on his side and his head propped up on an arm, smiled reflexively and closed his eyes to take in the warmth of both his closest friends as well as the suns rays. After what seemed like a nice relaxing, but short period, he sat up, legs over the side of the bed and began to stretch.
Kyu and Carl had begun to doze off again, Kyu’s wings slowing to the beat of a slow romantic dance. He whistled his blue-tail whistle and she twitched into alertness. Carl stiffened next to her, but after a second loosened back up again, he groaned from the bed as Axel stood, continuing his stretches, “Do we have to get up? It’s so early!”
“Kyu!” said Kyu in agreement, her voice muffled by the blanket covering her face.
With a roll of his eyes Axel stripped the blanket from their bed and both of them shivered mercilessly in the fresh morning air. Kyu pouted and hovered into an upright position, her eyes still dazed from sleep. Carl cracked his neck, then got onto his knees and arms and arched his back until small snaps could be heard.
“Up! Guards might be here. You know the drill.” Axel commented pulling on the boots he had kicked off while asleep.
Carl and Kyu followed his example and began to pack their stuff, including the loot from the night before. Carl yawned once and slapped a hand on Axel’s shoulder, “Glad I got you, boy. I’m getting too old for the con-artists game.”
Axel, quite taken by this comment allowed a brief hesitation before he replied, but then, his eyes widening in some sort of realisation grabbed the man’s hand and flipped him onto his back right onto the bed. Carl let out a small moan and then chuckled, “Good boy. Remember, did we?”
Axel replied, the quote scribed mentally into his brain, “Con-artists never grow old, only sneakier. Now, Carl, what did you take?”
Carl held up the dagger, with a satisfied and slightly cheeky grin, “Only this.”
Axel rolled his eyes and held out a hand, “Give it back.”
“Finder’s keepers!” shouted Carl as he ran around the room like a lunatic. It was a game they commonly played. One of them had to start the quote, usually quite a strange one, and the one that ended up with the item won, causing the other to finish their own quote. And then act it out.
“Act your age! Besides “finder’s keepers”, is only half the quote. I’m going to make you do the other half!” The red head chased the man around the room, catching up for a few moments before the Artican would dart away again.
Kyu, who had been watching passively, snaked a hand out and snatched the dagger from Carl’s hand the third time he ran past, causing Carl to skid to a halt in shock and Axel into bowling him over. They fell into a pile of arms and legs at the other end of the room. Muttering curses, Axel stumbled out to stand upright and Kyu handed the dagger back to him with a nod, “Kyu.”
Carl, now lying defeated on the floor, stared dejectedly up at Kyu and Axel then pouted, “No fun.”
Axel glared down at him, clapping the blade against his hand repeatedly, a grin on his face, “I win. You’ll finish the quote now, won’t you, Carlie?”
The Artican glared at Axel hard before letting a smile and chuckle escape, “Finder’s keepers. Loser’s weepers.”
He then continued to pretend to bawl his eyes out all over floor. As Kyu and Axel watched him with wide mouthed grins a knock sounded at the door. Carl immediately stopped mid action, his eyes instantly wide and alert; dangerous. Quick as a flash a seriousness set into their faces and all three of them slung their bags over their shoulders, shared a minute nod before turning backs to each other.
“Roomers, the village guards say they want to see you about something,” said a voice muffled by the thick timber door. It was clear that the inn keeper was none to happy to be out asking favours in the early morning.
The words fell upon an empty room. The knocking continued, but to no avail. All three of the windows were open, the shabby grey curtains flickering in the morning wind. An echo of three different types of laughter could be heard a fair distance off.
Keep writing!
