Cañónoscuridad part II

Alo people, just read Part I first..

With piercing blue eyes, Wendy surveyed the gathering. Unfortunately, most of the people around her walked around on slight stilts to show their status, so she couldn’t survey much. She was too young to be able to wear stilts, but she was determined that the moment that she turned eighteen, which was one year away, she would buy herself the largest stilts so that she too could see out above the crowd. But for now she was forced to rely on her memory to guide her. As she recalled, that the entire market was situated in a quadrangle, the various stalls zigzagging through the square. Each stall had its own colourful canvas roof and table on which were many strange objects of value. Wendy turned, her blond hair seemed to be dancing just below her shoulder. She smiled, and started walking in any direction direction she saw as the right one. But after a few steps, she looked around, now officially lost. All around her swivelled the luxurious red robes and purple dresses, all jingling with jewellery as they walked. After much deliberation, she decided to make her way in any direction, since she should be able to reach one of the stalls surrounding her. And so she set off.

Lyle leaned against one of the decorated walls to catch his breath. He had made a red excuse to get away from the girl’s stunning beauty. Only now he noticed that he didn’t get her name. He cursed loudly and banged his head against the wall behind him. Then he heard the busy sounds of the market, and he was reminded of wha’ he was supposed to do. Taking a deep breath he stood up, and started making his way down the road. He knew these roads like the back of his hand, he had to if he was going to make a livin’ for himself. His mother had been a whore at a local brothel, and never really even noticed Lyle, and when she did it was only to give blame, or she would get one of her customers to beat him when he did something she saw as his fault. By the age of six he had run away. His father was an unknown man. Lyle had begun to steal. But the local Mountain Dwellers as they called themselves, din’t posses much, and even if they did, they weren’t the kina people who would keep those belongings in their pockets. People had always talked about the wealth of the city dwellers (as they were known), and Lyle had decided to sneak in one day, but had soon noticed that people on stilts pockets’ are too high to be grasped unnoticed. But now Lyle had a way around all that. He walked by house after house, until he reached the right place. It was a small building, and looked poor against the other buildings, but it housed the most valuable stuff in the whole city. It housed the stilts and the famed costumes. Lyle got onto his knees and looked fo’ the right equipment in his pockets. He took out a thin metal wire curved up at the end – a pick, and a object looking like a small flat headed screwdriver – his so called wrench. He pushed his pick into the lock, until he felt resistance. Carefully he wiggled the pick underneath the first pin, pushing it up. Once underneath, he let it down again, slowly, and up again, until he heard a small click. The then put the wrench in to keep the pin up there, and continued to do the same fo’ the other three pins, and turned the wrench. He heard a satisfyingly loud click as the door unlocked. He smiled slyly, and stepped into the dark brown room.

Wendy stood in an alley. Wendy was bored. All her life she had read of great adventurers and death defying feats they performed, and thought that she had always wanted to have an adventure. Jealously she cursed the Mountain dwellers. They were fighting for their lives everyday, a new adventure each day, each day anything could happen. It was completely unlike her city life. Like most City Dwellers, her life was planned, from the minute her servant woke her, till the moment she fell asleep. Wendy closed her eyes. If she turned her back to the sparkling market behind her, and imagined the white cobbles in front of her to be a muddy alley, and the magnificent plants and decorations on the marble mansion walls around her to be old wooden cottages, and that tree there was actually a shack…She walked down her imaginary Mountain Slum alley. She imagined the woman up above her, hanging her washing, shouting a greeting.

“Salutations!” Wendy cried up. Wendy froze. The beautiful city came into view again. She sighed. Surely a Mountain Dweller wouldn’t greet a person like that. They probably wouldn’t even talk with a strong, cultured accent as she did. I wonder how do they speak? She herself had never seen a Mountain Dweller, even though there were so much more Mountain Dwellers than those in the City, they seldom came to the city. But from what Wendy had heard was that they were uneducated, disease bringing pests, and was best kept as servants. But Wendy’s nurse, Fabno had said otherwise. Her mother had been a Mountain Dweller, and Fabno had always told Wendy about the Mountain Dwellers. Fabno herself didn’t have a Mountain accent, but one rather similar to Wendy’s; after all, she had spent years perfecting it. Wendy had heard from her parents what thieves the Mountain Dwellers were, and Fabno had said that while some of them did indeed steal, it was only when they desperately needed food or money. Wendy smiled to herself as she imagined herself as pick pocketing someone. She had tried once, five years ago when she was seven, for which she was given a royal lecture and a slight whack on her fingers. She hadn’t tried again since. Wendy resolved that she wouldn’t speak again in her game.

Gofdi walked on towards the market. What a strange boy… She thought. She looked down at her beige dress. It was stained with yellow and brown spots, ‘nd torn at her side, but it was the best dress she could find. Although she would instantly be recognized as a Mountain Dweller, she hoped that the City Dwellers dint have many prejudices. The sounds of the market were nearer now. All of the noise was made by the merchants, bargainin’ ‘nd tellin’ of the greatness of their own product or service. Gofdi rounded another corner, and there it was. She gasped. So many elegantly dressed men and women were walkin’ about, with jewellery so heavy around their necks ‘nd wrists she was surprised that they could stand. Even more amazing was the stilts. Each person was walking on least 30 centimetre of stilts. She gazed at the faces, and frowned as she saw a familiar one. One she had left only a few moments ago. She was about to call out to Lyle, when she saw how close he passed by other stilted figures. He was dressed in a dark green cloak which fluttered as he walked, and matching breeches. She smiled, because as she watched, object after object was added to his own pockets, and eventually to the inside of his jacket. She shook her head, and at the top of her voice she called out,

“Apples fo’ sale!!”

Lyle watched as the sun seemed to stroll to the horizon. It was red now, and the clouds all around it was lit with its amazing beauty. Only a few people remained. Lyle sighed, his job done for the day. He started to walk towards the stilts shop. Although he would have liked to keep ‘em ‘nd sell ‘em in the Mountain Slums, but if the stilts disappeared, sooner or later the shop keeper would notice the pattern, ‘nd put a guard on the door every market day. He soon reached the shop, picked the lock again, put the stilts and costume where he found them, picked the lock closed, and headed fo’ the gate. It dint take him long to reach the road to the gate the road he and the girl had walked on…

“Hello,” He heard her beautiful voice say. Doesn’t it always work like that? He asked himself. Its as if I’m in some cliché romance novel. He swallowed.

“Hi,” He replied.

“How was ye….business?” She asked mischievously. Lyle started at her with big eyes. Had she seen him? What if she told someone? She chuckled lightly, ‘nd Lyle lost his train of thoughts, and he was engulfed with her stunning laugh.

“Don’t stump, Only a trained eye could see it, ‘nd I wont tell a soul.” Lyle relaxed.

“What's ye name?” Lyle asked.

“Gofdi, ‘nd ye’re Lyle Reay?” Lyle’s eyes opened.

“Yea….how did ye know?”

“Heard a tat here a tit there,” She said, smilin’ again. Lyle had to concentrate not to gasp, but he still went red.

“Well what tat did ye hear?” Now Gofdi flushed.

“A oh there are many,” She said. “which one would you want to hear?”

“You choose,” He said seductively.

Gofdi flushed. Boys dint usually act like this around her. She had no idea what to do, so she put on a brave face, and was a brilliant actress.

“If I were to choose we would si-” She was cut off as she heard a loud creaking sound. “The gates!” She whispered loudly. Lyle’s eyes widened, and as if they were one, they ran. The heavy basket still filled with unsold apples slowed her, but she had scarcely thought of it when the whole basket tumbled out of her arms. There was no time to pick it up, and she sprinted. The gates were still quite a bit away, ‘nd only after many turns did they reach ‘em. The gates were open only enough to allow one person to get through, and Lyle seemed to be tiring, Gofdi leaped forward through the gates before they closed. On the other side she stood, panting. She looked back through the gap, and saw Lyle still runnin’. After dark the city guard were brutal towards Mountain Dwellers in the City. He turned to halve his width, and he lunged.

Part III? Well you've come this far. Pwity please?