Chapter One

Third hour shadows loomed long across the uneven cobblestones blacking out anything that would creep or crawl along the ground. The walls of the Merchant's Quater looked moulded into the deep blackness. The twisting maze of side streets and alleyways that looked to be little more than just gaps in the walls in the daylight, were almost invisible within the density of this hour's gloominess. The wind was still, the night was colder than usual and the only sounds heard were soft breathing, the muffled creeping of feet, and the odd sound of fabric brushing against a wall.

“I'm not so sure about this,” whispered Raguel.

“It's easy,” replied Cilix who was becoming more agitated by the constant moaning of Raguel; he rounded on him, pointed a finger at his chest and said, “All you have to do is stand by the door. If the Watch come, you hoot like an owl two times, then move into Rubble Alley over there and wait for us.”

The darkness provided the perfect cover for the grim foreboding expression crumpling Raguel's face. Backwards and forwards, he scuffed his feet on the cobblestones, “I'm still not sure,” he whispered.

“Well....,” said Lyra a little louder than she should, in a smooth, cheap, but sweet sounding voice, while walking towards the shoe scuffing sound “I didn't think a man as pleasant looking as you would....,” reaching Raguel she put her arms over his shoulders, slipped up on the tips of her toes and pressed her nose against his, the sweetness continued to ooze through her voice, “leave an attractive young woman all alone in the dark,” her voice becoming softer, more sensual, her eyelids fluttering, though Raguel didn't notice, “to do the job of a …. big …. tough …. street …. wise …. man....” she puckered her lips and whispered “such as yourself,” then licked her lips, and in an almost unaudible hot breathed sighing whisper said “now would you? …. my dear.” Slipping her tongue across his lips was too much for him.

He pushed her off and said far too loudly, “What by all the gods do you take me for? Rubbing your grubby little self against me as if that will change the way I feel about this!”

She jumped back stunned, and feeling a little shamed, she quickly moved behind the other four and scoured at Raguel as he lurched towards them; fists clenched, eyebrows furrowed, “Get your arses in there, “he whispered in a tone that sounded as if he was trying his best not to shout, “get what we came for, and then get out!”

Bodwin shuddered and moved closer to Lucaresha and whispered, “I'm not so sure about this myself.”

“Me either,” sighed Lucaresha.

 

Nicon crept over to the wall of the food warehouse, looked up and whispered, “That old pompous friend of yours left the window open a crack as you said he would, Bodwin. Now …. climb up there and let us in!”

Again, Bodwin shuddered. He hated being the nimblest. Could not stand it when the others talked down to him as if they were better than he was, 'One day' he thought 'I'll show them whose better than who.' Shaking his head and rubbing his hands on his pants, making them sticky from the grime and dirt he had unwittingly collected from living in the streets for the last two cycles, taking a quick look over his shoulder towards Lucaresha, her silhouette bringing warmth to his heart, he smiled then proceeded to climb the wall. Slowly to avoid any loud squeals from rusted hinges, he opened the window and slipped in. His heart started beating faster. He started to become hot; sweat began beading on his forehead. He felt dizzy. The inside of his head started to throb; voices echoed should you be doing this? He clasped his hands over his ears trying to block them out. There must be easier ways to get food, another voice. What happens when you get caught? Screeched another voice, 'how many voices are in my head?' he thought. You will get caught, laughed another voice. Then they were gone; his heart returned to beating normally, the beads of sweat appearing on his forehead had ceased, and the dizziness had stoped. He slowly got to his feet, and taking deep breaths to clam his nerves, he took stock of the situation. There were no noises inside, and no sound of the Watch running towards the warehouse from the outside. Feeling a little relieved he moved quickly and silently towards the door to let the other four in.

“What took you so long?” Nicon could be a prick sometimes, but his plans almost never failed.

“I just wanted to make sure the coast was clear!” replied Bodwin in a shaky voice.

Cilix put a hand on Nicon's shoulder “leave it out,” he said calmly, “this is niether time nor place, anyway….” he looked towards the silhouettes in front of them “we're in and no-one saw us. Let's just get the food and get out!”

Lyra giggled, “Besides ….” she said attempting to sound authoritative and in control of her situation, even though she was just as scared as the rest “if we stand here all night poor Raguel will probably run away hooting like an owl...” she giggled “or crap his pants!”

They all had their separate jobs to do. Nicon was to find the racks that held the grain, Cilix was to find the dried fish; Lyra, well …. she just did whatever she wanted, even though she was supposed to get salt and other spices. Lucaresha was to gather the left over bread that hadn't sold so they could feast afterwards. Bodwin was supposed to …. he couldn't remember what he was to do. His head was becoming muddled again; those voices began taunting him again, screeching at him. He began to stumble. The inside of his head started to resemble a street crowd shoulting out what they wanted from an over worked and befuddled street merchant. His breath quickened, beads of sweat reappeared on his forehead, and he began shuddering. Get out. Get out. Get out! Screamed all the voices at once, creating a loud explosion inside his head that caused him to fall to the floor. Lying there shaking uncontrollably with his ears popping, tears started streaming down his face, tears of pain from the cacophony of unknowable voices telling him to get out when he couldn't move a muscle. Everywhere around him seemed so cold, so dark, so silent, and the he heard it. The owl hooting; two times, then a break, two more times, then another break, and then a sudden shout, “GET OUT … NOW!” The shuddering stopped, the tears stopped, and he could move again.

 

Lucaresha moved as silently as she could looking for the day old bread, muttering to herself about how useless it is to look for something in the dark when she tripped over a wooden bucket. She hit the floor hard, and while looking up from that position she noticed an orangey glow on the outside of the window, the flame from a torch most probably belonging to the Watch. She quickly, and not so silently, moved towards a rack and crunched herself into the foetal position hoping that she wasn't seen, or heard. Then she caught a whiff of something. Something that smelt sweet. It kind of tickled her nose and warmed the sinus' at the same time. She raised her head wanting more of it. She took long deep sniffs trying to find the source of the sweet odour. Every sniff created a soothing tremble that enveloped her whole body causing goose bumps to spring up across her skin, which in turn sent nice, comforting, warm, and furry feelings deep inside her producing a sense of euphoria as if released from a tight cage, while at the same time evoking a deep seeded desire for more of the same. Turning her head to the left, she sniffed but the sent seemed weaker that way. Turning her head to the right, she sniffed, and then smiled at the strength from that direction. While continuing to draw in full breaths of the odour seeping toward her, she got onto her hands and knees and started crawling towards the scent. The closer she moved the more intense the odour became. Her body quivered with every breath as she frenziedly climbed to her feet and started to run toward the scent. Then she saw him, climbing slowly to his feet, shaking his head, and smelling wonderfully delicious. Her eyes widened in shock while the startling recognition of whose fragrance she smelt caused her whole body to shake in a disturbing way.

“Bodwin!” she said astonished, 'that …. that …. beautiful scent can't be coming from …. from …. him!' she thought as he turned towards her, “Lucaresha! Did you hear the hoots as well?”

She shuddered 'this can't be the source of the smell!' she thought, but instead said, “Well then, we must leave, come on! Hurry!”

“What about the others?” he asked, “we can't just leave them!”

Walking towards him sniffing deeply she said, “they're most probably out already.”

He looked at her and smiled, “why are you sniffing?”

“Oh ….” she said 'would he understand if I told him his scent has me attracted to him? Why would he understand when I don't' she thought “... I just bumped into some rotten bread which stunk, so now this stale warehuse air is like smelling pretty flowers.” Bodwin noticed her fluttering eyelids but chalked it up to rotten bread.

 

Exiting the warehuse, the same way they had entered they found that the darkness had become blacker if that were possible, but everything was not quite as still, or a quite as before. Coming from their left was an orangey glow from fire torches that stained the walls producing haunting shadows, which seemed to enhance the sound of footsteps marching towards them. The sound and the light cut through the still black shadowed density causing the hairs on the back of their necks to stand up. A startled whisper fell out of Lucraesha's mouth “The Watch,” she began to shake and subconsciously “sniff, sniffed” the air.

“Quick,” whispered Bodwin in an authoritative way, which was usually foreign for him, “through Rubble Alley.” They both moved almost silently into the gap where he stopped.

She spun around “Why are we stopping,” she whispered in a whimper that sounded scared and desperate, while continuing her sniffing, “we must leave or else we'll be caught! Sniff, sniff.”

He looked at her silhouetted, with wide astonished eyes and a trembling throughout his body 'I wish she would stop that damn sniffing' he thought while placing both hands on her shoulders, “sniff, sniff,” she smiled and battered her eyes. He sighed, and in the strongest whisper he could muster, “We wait for the others.” As he released her another “sniff, sniff,” accompanied with her smile caused him to shake his head and turn to watch, hoping nothing was about to happen. Slightly muffled footsteps moving quickly from behind had him spinning around to see the shadowy back end of Lucaresha almost sprinting through the blackness of the alley. Shaking his head and wondering whether she had the right idea he heard a deep, loud, and commanding voice “Alright men, there is only one way out. So surround the door in a semi-circle and be prepared. You know how desperate these thieves can be. Expect anything and you should be fine.”

Bodwin turned back around, crouched down, and crept slowly out from the alleyway keeping close to the intense black shadow that covered the walls. 'Are you mad? You should be following Lucraesha!' he thought while he sneaked as close to the commanding voice as he dared.

The voice belonged to Seastnan; he was the defender of the city, the bodyguard of King Ruskin when he wasn't sleeping, and Captain of the Watch; a violent man who loved his job, but took it far too seriously.

“You in the warehouse might as well give up!” shouted Seastnan, “there is only one way out and we have it surrounded. If you come out peacefully I swear by the Sun that there will be …. amnesty.”

The other Watchmen laughted. “Silence!” shouted Seastnan “I mean it! We will not harm anyone.”

 

The door creaked open and Lyra walked out. She was wiggling her hips; her right hand was twirling golden locks of hair around her fingers. She walked slowly and calmly up to Seastnan, battered her deep blue eyes, put on her sweetest smile and started to rub the fingers of her left hand up and down the yellowish embossment of Dazbog the Sun God, the giver of fortune, on his dark blue boiled leather breastplate.

“Oh …. my ….” she said in a voice that dripped with cheap honey “you are the …. perfect picture of a man if ever ….” she turned her head left, then right “I had seen ….” Seastnan threw his hands into her shoulders knocking her back a couple of steps, and said with a throaty growl, “leave that out you rotten little wench! Just tell me, where your accomplices are hiding.”

Lyra smiled and took a step forward, “aren't I enough for you?” she said as she leaned forward slightly, blew him a kiss, and then, while rubbing her right hand across her left breast said, “I know …. just …. what …. you …. want.”

Smiling and licking her lips, she took another step forward. So did Seastnan. His giant ape like hand moved swiftly thumping her across the right jaw, spinning her around and dropping her to the cobblestones, unconscious.

Seastnan laughted “she did know …. just …. what …. I …. wanted!” he said mocking her in his best feminine tone. The Watchmen laughed.

“BASDARDS,” shouted Cilix from behind the warehuse door, just before he exploded outside with his eyes wide, fists flying furiously in evey direction, mouth moving and spitting out the words, “I'll kill you all!”

The Watchmen looked stunned as Cilix managed to hit one of them in the face dropping him to the ground. He somehow missed the next Watchmen as he passed by, but managed to receive a solid kick to the groin from the seemingly amused Seastnan. Cilix hit the ground groaning, moaning, and crying, with both hands clasping his crotch.

“Teach that boy a lesson!” shouted Seastnan. Two Watchmen pulled cudgels from their back straps and started beating on Cilix until he was an unconscious bloody mess.

“Drag that boy to the cells,” commanded Seastnan, “and since this wench is obviously up for it, send her to the Brothal of The Watch.”

One of the Watchmen picked up Lyra, threw her over his shoulder and started heading into the darkness. Two others grabbed Cilix by the feet, and dragging him behind, with his head bouncing on the cobblestones, they followed the others into the shadowed darkness while laughing at what they had just seen. Seastnan stayed behind, and while muttering to himself, he pulled his cudgel from his back strap and stood there for a short time staring at the door. After a while he groaned to himself, then moved backwards towards the opposite wall, submerging himself into the blackness, only inches from Bodwin, and stood there watching the warehouse door, waiting.

 

Bodwin shuddered as a fire started brewing in the pit of his stomach producing a warm and wild trembling. Beads of sweat began appearing on his forehead, 'not again' he thought as his eyeballs began to itch, as the inside of his skull began to go numb, and his brain started to feel as if it were bleeding. Take him out now! Screeched a voice. One more friend left, save him! Said another. Act now or forever be a wimp! 'Get out of my head!' he thought, 'leave me alone!' No! Screaked another voice. Time is nigh, time is nigh, time is nigh! Slowly he clamped his hands to his ears trying to block the voices out. 'Get out! Get out! Get out!' he thought as loud as he could. Then they were gone. He looked up at the silhouette of Seastnan and felt relieved to see him still concentrating intensely on the warehouse door. Silently, he released a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

As the moments moved by, Bodwin started wondering whether or not Nicon had the brains to stay hidden, or if he had found another way out. 'Here's hoping' he thought just before Nicon proved him wrong. He stepped into the doorway, stuck his head out a little way, looked to the left, then the right, smiled and then stepped out to his right. Seastnan moved quicker than expected. With the cudgel, swinging in his left hand Nicon never new what hit him. A sickening thud resounded through the alley as the club cracked the back of his head; Nicon hit the ground like a tonne of rocks. Seastnan laughed as he placed the cudgel into his back strap, “stupid boy,” he growled. Grabbing Nicon by the feet, he started dragging him toward the cells while Bodwin sat in the darkness stunned for the moment. 'What do I do now?' he thought as his head started to thump again. Follow them, screeched a voice, good idea, said another. Hurry or you'll lose them, said another. Giving into the voices this time, he crept along behind Seastnan keeping himself cloaked in the shadowed walls darkness while following the sound of Nicon's head pounding on the cobblestones. When reaching the prison Bodwin sat on the ground hidden by the dense blackness of the jails towering walls, 'now what' he thought, wanting, hoping that one of the voices would give him an answer. They stayed silent.

 

The dank stone walled cubicle stunk of urine and faeces. The little gaps at the top of the walls were not enough to relieve the smell or let in much light either, but they were wide enough to let in flies and mosquitoes, that didn't seem to live long. This was apparent by the amount of cobwebs hanging from the walls and ceiling; the spiders seemed to love it in here. The amount of dead fly and mosquito bodies made the cobwebs sag creating a creepy feeling for anyone who would spend more than a night in there. Two fire torches hung in the bracers on each wall releasing a swaying orangey glow that added to the depressing tone. In the middle of the room was a table with a naked man lying on it on his back. His legs, crunched up with his knees pointing towards the cobwebbed ceiling, his arms stretched back over his head. There was blood trickling off the front and back edges of the table. In the northern wall was a big heavy wooden door, which creaked open, and then slammed shut as Seastnan walked through.

“Is it still unconscious?” he asked.

“Well, he has endured a lot of pain,” said one of the Watchmen. (extend on his appearance)

“Tip the bucket of water over it,” replied Seastnan “I want to talk to it!”

The sharp sting of ice-cold water splasing over the naked man's face dragged him out into consciousness. Spitting and spluttering, he spun his head left then right trying to figure out where he was. He started to move his arms and then screamed. He tried to move his feet then screamed again. He tried to roll onto his side, but couldn't move.

“Hold on there boy,” said Seastnan in a smooth but deep voice, “you keep doing that and you'll rip your hands and feet off the nails.”

Through the sharp, short breaths, created by the stabbing pain in both his hands and feet, he asked, “what?”

“Well” replied Seastnan scratching his chin with his right hand, “We had to nail your hands and feet to the table. It's for your own saftety!” He smiled.

The man released a heavy breath and said, “What the ….” “That's what I should be asking you!” interrupted Seastnan roaring like a lion that has a paw caught in a spiked foot trap, “Breaking into my warehouse! What were you thinking?”

“I was hungry,” he panted.

“Hungry, you were hungry?” he said in a slightly raised pitch, mockingly, then laughed. “Why don't you get a job like the rest of us?”

Breathing heavily the man replied, “In Eomar; are you mad ….”

“Yes, I am mad!” roared Seastnan again. “You rotten urchins disgust me. Thinking you go around doing whatever you please without consequences, without any consideration for the honest, hardworking people ….”

“Honest! Hardworking! Ha!” he said strongly through deep breaths. “Don't try making me laugh,” another deep breath. “No one in Eomar is honest, especially the Watch. You deny ninety percent of the people the right to earn a living,” taking another deep breath he started to shout. “You steal their houses, stop them from trading, arrest them for trading, or hang those who try trading honestly.” Another deep breath, “You rig the scales to steal from the travelling merchants coming to the city, impose ridiculously high taxes, and then send them back to wherever they came from in worse shape than when they arrived!” With another deep breath he continued, “Ever since Ruskin the usurper ….” Seastnan crashing his left fist into the man's nose and spraying blood across his cheeks managed to interrupt the spiel.

“Show some respect for your king!” shouted Seastnan.

“Ruskin killed my knig and stole the throne!” replied the bloody faced man, heaving in pain, and gulping for air.

“The former king was a traitor,” said Seastnan who had managed to gather a little of his composure and started speaking smoothly again. “Now listen, boy. We can do this easy way or the hard way.”

“There is no easy way in Eomar under King Ruskin!” he snarled.

Seastnan smiled and said, “All you need to do is tell me your name ….”

“Stck it up your arse!” he growled, and then breathed heavily.

Seastnan laughed, “it always amazes me how many people have that name!” His laughing continued as he pulled a wicked looking knife from his belt. He flipped the sharp curved blade with a serrated back edge, over, and over in his hand, and through his sadistic smile said, “Looks like you must be one of those coal mining orphans. Well …. that doesn't matter now.” He leaned forward, stuck the point of the blade into the man's right eye socket and cut around the eye. (explain the screaming and taunting) He then reached into his belt and pulled out a spoon and started to dig out the eyeball, and then tipped the eye from his right hand to his left. Laughing hoarsely, he said, “I love this part, the look on the faces of trash like you.” Abruptly, he stopped playing with the eye and quickly clamped his left hand on the nostrils of the naked man's shattered nose, causing him to scream again. Seastnan laughed, then dropped the eye into the man's mouth and slammed his right hand over the orifice to block his breathing.

Laughing wildly Seastnan said, “Swallow it boy!” The man's left eye widened, his cheeks started becoming a flustered red, blood continued to pour out of his right socket. Pain from his nose was almost bringing him to the point of fainting. He was out of options. Die like this, or swallow. There was no choice but to swallow.

“Now,” said Seastnan returning to his smooth tone, “Tell me what your name is and who your accomplices are?”

“Stick it ….” “Tell me something I don't know,” roared Seastnan.

“I only have one eye left.”

“I already know that!” laughed Seastnan.

“What will you do when that is gone?” the man laughed, “I have all night!” his laughter becoming louder.

“Well, I don't,” said Seastnan smoothly as he retrieved his knife from his belt, leaned in closer to the man, “But you still have two balls!” he said in a smooth daunting tone. The man's left eye widened again, his mouth began to quiver, blood still streamed out of the empty eye socket, and then there was an explosion of words; “My name is Cilix,” he shouted in a wavering, broken tone. “Bodwin, Lucaresha and Raguel were the accomplices, they're traitors! They left us behind, like …. like …. scapegoats. Hunt them down, and kill them! Just leave me my balls …. please!” Seastnan laughed and patted Cilix on the right shoulder, then moved his head closer to the bloody mess, “that's exactly what Nicon said!” he whispered in Cilix's right ear.

“Nicon?” replied Cilix “he probably thought by giving you information he could secure his realease.”

“You impress me boy! That's exactly what he asked! And yes, I did promise to release him,” chuckled Seastnan.

Cilix's eye widened once again, he took a deep breath 'is there hope of release for me' he thought, and then asked, “I gave you the same infromation! What about me? Will you ….” “Oh yes, you have received the same promise,” interrupted Seastnan who was beginning to have trouble controlling his laughter “you have secured your release. In fact, the both of you will be releases tomorrow, together.”

Cilix slumped and released a deep breath as a smile began to appear on his mashed face, he giggled.

Seastnan laughed louder “when Dazbog reaches his highest point the both of you will be released! Aha ha ha ha!

 

 

 

Chapter Two

The five pillars that mark the five major streets of Eomar also mark the circumference of the city centre. One pillar faces towards the northern road,which continues out of the city into the army ecampment, then on through the edge of the Daldarian Forest and into the Dacari Desert. Another pillar points towards the western road that stops just short of the Misty Mountain Cliffs. A different pillar is at the head of a street, which leads towards the northeast, and ends at the port of Boils Embayment. One of the other two pillars points to the longest road that stretches south into and through the poorer parts of the city and then continues out towards Yippar Tarin. The fifth pillar stands in front of the south-eastern street, and leads to what has become the dirtiest part of the city. Each one of these pillars consist of twenty rocks that have been painstakingly chipped away until they had circular sides, and were flat on the top and bottom, and then placed on top of one another. At the top of each pillar is a spike with a bronze ball attached to the point that reflects and glows with the light from the sun, releasing a sharp bright stain hanging from high above the centre, which is easily seen from almost every part of the city. In the middle of these five pillars is the actual city centre where there are five steps leading to a plateau that has two more pillars, built in the same fashion as the other five, but consist of ten rocks and have no bronze ball on top; both of these pillars are separated by a stone table. On this table is a stone shrine cut into a pyramid type shape, with an inscription on all three sides that says, 'Dazbog, giver of fortune. Have mercy.' Behind this holy place is a wooden construction built two cycles ago. It stands twice as high as the average size man, and has steps leading up to a platfrom where there are two wooden poles on either side that are connected to one another by a cross beam. Along the cross beam hangs four ropes, with the ends tied into a loop, and underneath these looped ropes there is a hole wide enough for someone to fall through.

Every day when the sun is reaching its highest point in the sky, the people of Eomar, rich and poor, flock to this centre to plead Dazbog for mercy and fortune. The wealthy people stand with their hands raised towards the sun, thanking Dazbog for their fortunate circumstances, and pleading for the poor to either leave their city, or to die, as this would constitute Dazbog's mercy upon this city. The poor people however, have started to become a little sceptical of Dazbog. They stand towards the outside of the centre grumbling; a few of them plead for Dazbog to show mercy and strike down the rich with thunder and lightening, while some of the few plead for themselves to be taken up from Eomar into the glory of Dazbog's paradise. However, many of the poor people no longer come to the centre for worship. Instead, they come to see which of their friends or family members have been captured during the night, and would possibly be offered up as a sacrifice in attempt to make peace with Dazbog so he would continue to bless the rich people with more wealth, and curse the poor with more rats, cockroaches, famine, and disease.

Over the recent moonths, attendance at the daily worship sessions has started to dwindle. Less and less of the poor are finding any solace in this practice, and have instead, started using their time more wisely. As the wealthy people start heading for the shrine, some of the poor have taken it upon themselves to enter into the houses and shops to relieve them of food, clothes, jewellery, gold, silver, and whatever else had been, carelessly left hidden in the darkest places of their hovels and stores. Because of these brazen daylight burglaries, certain members of The Watch are ordered to guard certain shops and houses belonging to guild members, which is why the presence of The Watch at the daily worship sessions has also dwindled.

 

The wealthy people stunk with horrible perfumes, and jingled with bracelets, necklaces, and bags of gold. They all bunched together, as close to the shrine as they could get. Trying to push through them was harder than trying to find food.

People moaned and groaned as he bumped into them, saying things like, “keep your grimy little hands to yourself, scum!”

“There's no place for orphan trash in Eomar!”

Shunted to the left and right like dry leaves caught in a miniature whirlwind was enough for him to wonder if he should start begging Dazbog for some of that thunder and lightning. He knew it was wrong to ask anything of Dazbog, but asking anything of that god would almost be worth it just to see the looks on wealthy faces as their giver of fortune struck them down for not spreading the wealth, and thereby showing mercy.

Finally, he pushed through to the southern side where he felt a little more comfortable amongest the rabble. He laughed to himself as the wealthy all raised their hands towards the sun at the same time and started chanting “mercy, mercy Dazbog! Release our city from thievery. We beseech you for mercy, Great Lord Dazbog.”

Shanking his head, he turned to look towards the south-eastern pillar where he saw familiar faces. Then, turning toward the southern pillar, he saw a picture of beauty standing beside a man who was dressed in grey rags and had a hood over his head, half covering his face. He couldn't help but stare; the woman's beauty was enough to entrance anybody. The long, loose, straight black hair that ran half way down her back brought a smile to his face. Her dark green eyes, which could be mistaken for being black as opal, sparkled in the sunlight producing a green with a certain depth that could only be found in jade gemstones. Her face was a pale white, but not a sickly diseased pale. Instead, a pale that hadn't been corrupted by the bronzing of Dazbog, which brought flutters to his heart causing it to beat faster; his smile deepened. Even though the light blue dress that she wore was brown with filth, and almost rotting off her, she still looked more elegant than all the wealthy worshippers did. She took notice of him as he approached her, “Bodwin!” she said quietly through a healthy grin that exposed her near perfect teeth.

“So you didn't get caught! Sniff, sniff!” her tone becoming a little softer.

'Still with the sniffing?' he thought, “No” he said just as quiety, “but I saw Nicon, Cilix, and Lyra get taken away.”

The man in grey rags and hood stepped forward, “I told you we'd get caught,” said Raguel shaking his head.

“Well, if Lucaresha and I hadn't heard your attempt at hooting like an owl we would have been,” said Bodwin as he looked at his own dirty feet. 'How is it, that Raguel is never dirty?' he thought while comparing his and Lucaresha's feet to Raguel's clean feet.

“Sniff, sniff. There's more, isn't there,” she said sounding a little concerned.

Bodwin took a deep breath, and looked into her beautiful dark green eyes, “I saw The Watch carrying them off, so …. I …. followed them,” he said quietly through strained breaths, 'how can I tell them!' he thought as Raguel reached out and placed both of his shaking hands on Bodwin's shoulders. Which nearly shook him, “what happened?” he almost shouted.

“I sat in the dark beside the prison …. I think they were tortured. I could hear screams,” he said trying to keep control of himself.

“I heard …. Cilix shout our names! He called us traitors.”

Lucaresha slumped and started shaking, and almost whimpering, “Sniff, sniff! No,” she moaned, “He wouldn't do that!”

Her head fell into the palms of her hands as Raguel, with widening eyes, released his grip on Bodwin and took a step back, “They know our names?” Raguel always did this. Whenever there was a chance someone might figure out what they were doing, or planning to do, he would crack.

“There's only one thing we can do,” he said through his typical depressing, and grim tone; “We must separate, that way it will be harder to find us.”

“Sniff, sniff! No,” she said speaking through her hands, muffling the words, “we all depend on each other. We can't just ….”

“You two look after yourselves then,” interrupted Raguel, “I'm going my own way.” He turned around and disappeared into the rabble.

Bodwin shuddered as he turned towards Lucaresha. She raised her face from her hands; the tears carving their way down her dirty cheeks glittered in the glowing stain from above, her opal dark green eyes sparkled out from the sleep deprived teary red rings in which they were embedded.

“What if Raguel is right?” Bodwin asked trying to sound calm.

She sniffed twice, and said with a slight shake, “what if he's wrong. He always worries too much.”

“It's always better to be safe than sorry,” his grin exposed his rotting teeth, creating the opposite effect of what he was striving for. Noticing her repulsed shiver, most probably from seeing his teeth, while looking into her eyes he could see pain, loss, and despair. The feeling was mutaul, and so he changed tact.

“Where would you go if we had to separate?” he asked as gently as he could.

Her smile evaporated the fear that was evident in her tears, “I know of a place just outside the city, what about you?” she said in a short and tight manner.

Even though he wanted to stay with her he said, “I'll stay in the south-eastern district,” mainly because he was a little shocked at her quick change of tone. After a moment of staring into one another's eyes hoping that the other one would complain and claim that it would be wiser to stay together, they pulled their eyes from one another to notice that The Watch had started to appear at the five pillars. They were dressed in the standard flamboyant attire; the dark blue breastplates, that had the yellow embossment of Dazbog on the chest, which contrasted horribly with the sleeves of the bright red uniform shirts underneath, made them hard not to see. With five of The Watch per gap between each pillar, they encircled the city centre and cudgels in their hands, they started pushing people, the poor out from the centre, and the wealthy pushed into the centre. One of the poor managed to squeeze by without attracting the attention of The Watch. He had greyish white hair, and a long scraggly beard, which must have seen better days. He wore dirty greyish-brown sackcloth that looked as if it had been thrown together from pieces of old coal mining sacks. He forced his way through towards the shrine, causing the wealthy to groan, moan, and jump back with repulsion. The closer he got to the shrine the louder the complaints, “get out of here scum,” “Dazbog hates people like you!”

The commotion was really starting to catch fire, when from the Western pillar Seastnan strode out into the throng, pushing anyone aside, and shouting abuse at those who complained. Six of the Watch followed him dragging two bound men behind. The crowd started to grow quite as Seastnan climbed the wooden structure, followed by the Watch and the prisoners. He raised his hands towards the sun and shouted, “Dazbog, have mercy on Eomar; the city built to glorify you!” The silence of the crowd at this point was overwhelming; you could have heard a grasshopper fart.

“We have found two faithful men,” continued Seastnan with a big smile, “who will sacrifice themselves as witness to the faithfulness of the inhabitants of your city...” “Oh faithless people of Eomar,” interrupted the sack wearing, scraggly haired, bearded man, with a very loud, poetic, and authoritative voice. “Repent of your false god worship, and come back to The Great One, who wishes only to give all of you prosperity.” The crowd laughed, and shouted abuse at the man as he climbed up the five steps leading to the shrine. “People starve, while others sit in the lap of luxury. The sacrifice of life to appease Dazbog will result in judgement. Your effrontery is an impingement, which turns your worship into idolatry. Prepare for astonishment, as one rises to bring punishment. To destroy utterly those who worship in adultery.” The crowd laughed loudly and then as if on cue, started shouting, “Dazbog is God! Dazbog is God! Dazbog is God!”

“Silence!” shouted Seastnan who had started to stalk back and forth across the wooden platform.

“We all know about prosperity because we have lived in it for so long!” The central crowd cheered. “Our great King Ruskin has bled for you,” continued Seastnan, “to give you everything you desire. He does this with the blessing of Dazbog. So we gather here every day to show the God of Eomar and our King how much we appreciate their guidance in these terrible and testing times. Dazbog knows the troubles of his city, he sees everything, and he communicates to Ruskin the best way to handle the problems. This is why we have faithful men, like these two behind me, who are willing to sacrifice theselves to Dazbog in appreciation for what he is doing through our God ordained King, Ruskin.” The crowd in the centre cheered, while the crowd of poor on the outside hissed and booed. Seastnan turned to the watchmen who were holding the prisoners “bring the animals here,” he said sharply and softly. With the prisoners on either side of him Seastnan continued, “The Great Dazbog will absolve all the law-breaking these men have done, and in the process will show mercy to all who live in Eomar with greater prosperity than can be imagined.” The inner crowd erupted with elation from the words, while the outer crowd groaned at the idea of the rich continuning to get richer, and the poor continuing to be sacrificed.

Lucaresha stared at the prisoners, her eyes wide, her lips started moving in a way that could be mistaken for trembling, her fists clenched, “I hope that old man preaching judgement was right,” she said.

“Yeah, same here,” replied Bodwin “I think however, we should maybe take the same steps as Raguel.”

Lucaresha looked at him, sniffed twice, and said, “I'm not so sure about that. But, well... can we at least meet up tomorrow; it would be encouraging to know that you weren't caught.”

He turned and looked at her, took hold of her right hand, gave it a little squeeze and smiled, “I would like that.”

She turned her head towards the platform, “me too,” she said then sniffed twice. “Are those prisoners...”

“Yes,” interrupted Bodwin sadly.

“Well, what happened to Lyra?” she asked 'I can't stand the girl, and yet...' her thoughts trailed off as Bodwin said, “She was carried off to the Brothel of The Watch.”

She spun her head towards him and stared, “I hope by the gods that I don't get caught! I can't stand the idea of those animals pleasuring themslevs on me!”

 

“Oh Great Dazbog,”shouted Seastnan, “we offer to you these two men as a sign of our faith in you. Have mercy.” Nicon and Cilix were both forced into position and two of the looped ropes hanging from the cross beam were placed around their necks, and pulled tight. Cilix started trembling and shouted, “Mercy, mercy!” Seastnan smiled and spoke in a loud voice, “It's all right, son. Dazbog hears you and has provided the mercy you desire.” Cilix turned towards Seatnan hoiked up a mouthful of phlegm and spat on him, then turned back to the worshippers and shouted, “This is idiocy! Dazbog knows not what mercy is! He is not a God...” Seastnan interrupted the speech by roughly pushing both men through the gap beneath the crossbeam; they fell together. Nicon managed to spin to his left and look at Cilix before the rope tightened around his neck. Cilix, the heavier of the two, fell slightly faster, and when the rope tightened with the weight, Cilix's body continued downwards until it hit the cobblestones. His head fell a moment after bouncing off the body, and then rolled towards the cheering crowd with an arch like crimson fountain sparying all in its path.

With the rope tight around his neck, slowly strangling him, Nicon looked at the decapitated body of his friend lying on the cobblestones, quickly becoming immersed in the scarlet pool pumping from the stump where Cilix's head had been. 'Oh God, oh God' he thought to himself as his legs started to kick. His body starting to bounce from the force of his legs kicking. 'Cilix was right,' he thought 'Dazbog is fake. No mercy shown here.' He struggled to continue with the kicking as his body started to contort, cramping into weird angles in a futile attempt to free itself. 'Oh God, this is it' he thought, 'Oh God, help me!' His eyes darting left and right, looking for help but all he saw was Dazbog worshippers praising the sun for the sacrifice. 'This isn't a sacrifice,' he thought, 'The is murder.' His legs stopped kicking, he knew this was the end, 'Oh Great One, where are you?'

HERE said a voice that sounded similar to water flowing over rocks, similar to wind through trees, to a cascade of leaves blown by the wind through a dirty alleyway; a gentle, calm voice, and yet a voice that sounded authoritative, a voice that you would not want to annoy. As the last of his life drifted away, he smiled with the knowledge that he was finally free from this tyrannical city. Then his bowels released, a little brown river trickled down the inside of his pants and dripped from his toes onto the cobblestones mixing with the scarlet pool, creating a horrific smell oozing up from the liquid picture that exposed this bloody sacrifice as nothing more than religious crap.

Lucaresha's mouth hung open. Bodwin's eyes were wide. The poor outside the centre were silent, while those in the centre were ecstatic, shouting their praises to Dazbog. Lucaresha shuddered and squeezed Bodwin's hand. He turned to look at her as she said, “I would prefer to die like that, than die a hundred times a day in the brothel!” She sniffed twice and Bodwin shuddered, not at her sniffing, or at her words, but the sincerity. 'She truly means that' he thought while looking at her eyes. They were dark in a way he had never seen before, no sparkle, no glint of hope, just nothingness, and yet there was something hidden somewhere deep within them. Something he hadn't noticed before, something he did not recognise; it scared him. While his uncontrollable shuddering continued, he manged to say, “I can agree to that,” in attempt to try sound as truthful as she was. He failed, and she let go of his right hand, turned to face him and said, “See you tomorrow, right here.” She pointed the index finger of her right hand at his face, sniffed twice and said, “Don't be late.” Her tone was menacing, 'was she scared?' he thought, 'can't be. She's never scared, a little hesitant maybe, but never scared. He started to frown as she disapeared into the crowd, 'what's going through that head of her's' he thought as he turned and started to walk down the south eastern road.

 

The further he walked southeast, the more his stomach churned. The sight of the hovels that littered the district started stirring his emotions, 'I can't believe I use to like this place,' he thought as he turned down an alleyway, which was more like a crack in the chaos. People covered in blankets that looked to be made from rat skins were pushed up against walls that looked as if they were about to fall down. The place stunk of loss, misfortune, and a hatred that seemed pure. Walking slightly faster, just to get out of that alleyway, he smelt some form of food cooking. Turning quickly to the left at the next crack, then right at the second crack he found the origin of the smell. His stomach rumbled, but his mind told him to throw up. There was a cauldron resting precariously over a fire in the middle of a charming little clearing, known as The Rotten Splice. Surrounding the cauldron were creatures that appeared to be human, but because of the conditions they were forced to live in, they resembled animals that could barely stand upright. Hunched over, malnourished, figures covered from head to toe in rags were covered with boils, cuts, burns, and some smelt as if they may have gangrene. He started to push through the creatures towards the cauldron, 'it's probably rats, and cockroaches, boiled in dirty street water,' he thought and then stopped.

Casting his mind back to last night caused him to wince, 'if only we...' his thoughts trailed off when something caught his eye, a bright, piercing sparkle. Pushing back through the crowd, he saw it again, and started to mover faster. “Watch it,” said a human figure. “My foot,” said another as he elbowed and stomped his way into and through the swarm. Reaching the outside of the mob he saw the sparkle again, 'Can't be' he thought as he walked towards it, 'not down here.' The loosely resembling human figures were moving in all directions, some escaping the horror of the cooking cauldron, others trying to get a taste of the horror. Looking around for another sparkling sign, he saw her.

She was wearing a low cut, light green silk dress, with intricate spiral weavings in a deep shade of blue. The dress fit tightly around her waist, but not too tight, which allowed her bottom to poke out in that peach like form. The dress fell just below her knees revealing a set of calves that were thin and yet muscular; she was enough to make any man stand to attention with admiration for the beauty that she possessed. Her hair was light brown and waving around in the light warm breeze which complimented her light brown eyes, and when she walked it was as if she was gliding. The uneven cobblestones were not a hindrance to someone of her stature. Her back was straight, her head held high. She was a fine specimen who looked a little concerned about about her surroundings. She obviously took the wrong pillar road after the worship session; it happened from time to time. These wealthy types are generally sheltered from this part of the city now days, and as a result, they don't know what lies down here. The desperation, the disease, the torment; anything that could happen does happen down here. This part of Eomar is a dangerous place to be lost in, and it was easy to see that she was lost by the way her head swivelled to the left and then to the right, as if she was searching for a house, a landmark, anything that would bring her some form of recognition of where she was. As she turned around to assess her surroundings again, his eyes caught the sparkle, which dangled between two very healthy breasts. His eyes widened at the sight. The sparkle came from a large shiny white pearl surrounded by a ring of rubies in a pendant hanging on a necklace made from a combination of silver and gold. He smiled as she turned back; he started to follow her, keeping to the other side of the mews hidden amongst the tide of poverty. Looking around to make sure she was alone before he struck he noticed three men following her, 'always the same with me,' he thought, 'every time opportunity strikes someone is there to mess it up.'

He noticed, however, that something wasn't quite right about these three men. They weren't dressed in rags. Instead, they wore a sort of uniform, with tight leather pants, boots, and tight coats with hoods that covered most of their faces. The colour looked black, but when the little bit of sunlight that shined through into the streets hit them the colour almost looked red. The depth to the red was something he hadn't seen before. It was black red; like the way that freshly spilled blood on the cobblestones at midnight looked black. One of the three was half a meter in front of her, the second on the other side of the street keeping a good eye on her, while the third was two meters behind and continuously looking behind himself, obviously making sure no one would batter an eyelid to what was about to happen. Then it hit him. 'They won't just steal the pendant' he thought, 'they'll kill her and take the pendant.' He shook his head and stalked closer 'that will bring the Watch down here,' he thought as he continued to inch closer. 'That means anyone in this place could be taken,' he thought. He stopped, and shuddered 'that means there will be a mass sacrifice tomorrow!' Continuing along the mews, keeping an eye on the three men, debating with himself on what to do, he saw her glide past an alleyway and disappear. He stopped and looked at the alleyway. 'Crap,' he thought.

Then his head started to pound again, sweat appeared on his forehead again, and with his heart rapidly increasing speed, he clenched his fists. Go get them screeched a voice. Hurry before it's too late screaked another. Time is nigh! Time is nigh! Time is nigh! Screamed all the voices in his head at the same time.

“Alright,” he said aloud almost startling himself. He looked around to see if anyone had noticed his vocal outburst; his heart continued its frantic beating, faster and faster, until it felt like fire was pumping through his veins. Along with the excitement and fear pumping through his mind, he sucked up some courage and rushed towards the alleyway, pushing people aside, knocking them over; he couldn't believe how good this was feeling. Rushing out of the vocal abuse from the street urchins and into the alleyway, he found an unexpected situation. The woman was standing to the left with a smile on her face looking at him; behind her was one of the men also staring at him with a bemused look on his face. The second man was standing just to the right of her, looking straight at him, and holding the necklace in his right hand streched out straight in front of him. The third man he could not see. Bodwin's head swivelled to the left and right like a weather vane in a howling storm 'what to do, what to do,' he thought as the sweat dripped from his forehead, and his heart continuing to pump fire through him at an incredible pace. Take the necklace screeched a voice. Get the pendant screaked another. Now said a third. Bodwin's eyebrows furrowed as he grinned exposing his rotten teeth, moving two steps towards the man with the necklace he growled in a weak and wavering tone, “give the pendant back to the lady, theif!” The man smiled, “Come get it then!” Bodwin took two more steps toward the thief and everything went black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

The sound of water trickling into a half-full bowl aroused him from unconsciousness. As his eyes opened, and the blurriness subsided he was treated to a warm and beautiful sight. A pretty young woman with light brown hair and brown eyes shrouded with concern, wearing a light green silk dress with intricate blue weavings, cut so low he could see a healthy pari of breasts. His eyes widened at the beauty. She smiled as she walked towards him, “So you are awake? Good!” she stopped at the left side of the large oak bed, leaned forward a little and said, “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to recover. How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Well... my head is a little sore. What happened?”

“You were very brave coming to my rescue like that.” She straightened up, placed her hands on her chest, and started swivelling at her hips, “I am happy to say that you managed to recover my necklace, and save my honour at the same time,” she said in the most pleasant voice he had ever heard; a light husky voice that seemed to ooze something sweeter than honey.

“I don't remember much after running into the alley. It all went black,” he said.

“Oh,” she said as she planted herself on the edge of the bed, “you were truly marvellous. However, you did receive a rather hard knock to the back of your head, which is why we brought you back here. May I ask who my hero is?”

He blushed, “I'm no hero,” he said, “I just saw a person in trouble and decided to act while there was still a chance.”

“Oh, I thought that was what a hero was!” she winked her left eye as her smile extended further towards her ears. He continued to blush and attempted to avert his eyes anywhere her ample breasts were not. He failed. She leaned in closer exposing more of herself, if that were possible.

“It would be nice to know your name,” she said in her sweeter than oozing honey husky voice, “I know heroes aren't supposed to give out their name....”

“I'm no hero,” he almost shouted, which caused a ringing in his head. She reached forward and cupped her hands around his face; he attempted to keep his eyes on the pendant, and failed.

Both of her hands were warm and cold at the same time, and caused a tremor, but the ringing and the tension vanished, clearing his mind and realigning his thoughts. As she released her hands he signed, “Since I'm no hero, its fine for me to tell you my name,” he said without blushing. 'What just happened' he thought as he started running his fingers in a claw like shape through his dirty blonde hair, 'what did she just do to me' he consciously checked his breath by breathing into his left hand and sniffing. He smiled and finally said, “I'm Bodwin,” in his most pleasant voice, which sounded more like a child trying to convince an adult that they hadn't done anything wrong.

She smiled, “That sounds like a fine name for my hero.” He blushed at her words and she just scrunched her nose and winked at his embarrassment. Her smile widened as she stood up and glided towards the window. While looking out into the street she asked, “Which part of the city do you live in?”

He tried to shrink into the bed sheets, “I have no where...”

She spun around before he could finish and asked, “What by the gods do you mean,” her eyes were wider than they should be and her voice sounded as if there was a pinch of shock in it. He tried to look away from her but found it useless.

“I don't want to talk about it,” he said in a sulky tone.

“Well,” she said while straightening her dress, “if you have nowhere to live I can most certainly do with the company.” Her smile returned, stretching across her face bringing a beauty that brough flutters to Bodwin's heart. He gulped, and attempted to sound calm and in control, “Are you serious?” he squeaked out, “You don't even know me!”

Blushing from the sound of his own voice, he tried to sink further under the covers. She just smiled wider and walked towards the bed, “It is the least I can do for the way you helped me out of that little fix.” She leaned forward, almost falling out of her dress, and in that husky honey drenched tone said, “I have a feeling that you will do me no harm.” He attempted to avert his eyes, but failed again. She continued to smile and straightened up, then walked back toward the window, turned to face him and sat on the sill. “You say that you saw someone in trouble and were acting while there was still a chance,” she dropped the smile. “Tell me why you would truly take that risk in this … terrible city. Isn't that a dangerous thing to do?”

He ajusted himself into a sitting position, looked her straight in the eyes, a difficult thing to do considering what she was almost not wearing.

“Those three men following you looked to be murderous. If any one of the wealthy is injured or killed in this part of the city, the Watch will come out in force. Many people will be beaten, some arrested and then used in the next day's worship session,” he said calmly, and was impressed with both the squeaklessness and the amount of control he managed to keep. “You are of wealth,” he said plainly, “you should know that this part of the city is dangerous.”

Her eyes never blinked as she gazed into his eyes, and moments went by before she finally spoke.

“I'm not from around here,” she said and smiled, “but you have proven Eomar to be less dangerous by your actions.” She stood up, looked toward the door and called, “Trayvr, Hendi, Coustin, come in here for a moment.”

The door opened and in walked the three men from the previous day. Bodwin shuddered, threw back the bed covers and jumped out of the bed.

“It's alright Bodwin,” she said loudly, “These are my friends!”

His eyes widened, his mouth bent into a snarling shape, “what” he shouted as he started to shake with rage.

The three men laughed, “Happens every time,” said Trayvr.

“Bodwin, my dear young man, please hear me out before you decide on whatever you are thinking,” she said smoothly as she walked over to the bed, replaced the covers, sat on the edge of the bed, exposing most of her breasts. He stood directly in front of her looking down at her head, while she stared straight at his crutch, which was almost impossible not to do since the bed was low and he was quite tall.

After a moment, she looked up and smiled at him in a reassuring way. “These three men are my trainers,” she said without blinking. “We enter every city throughout all of Thera doing exactly the same thing as we did yesterday.”

“So, you tricked me...” replied Bodwin struggling not to shout.

“In a way,” she said smoothly in that husky tone of hers. “We have been in Eomar for three days now, and we are not impressed with the amount of people who turn a blind eye to those who may be in trouble. We almost gave up! In fact, if you hadn't acted the way you did, we would have left Eomar today.” She smiled and winked her left eye.

'She never blinks,' he thought 'only winks one eye at a time. What's wrong with her eyes?'

Trayvr stepped towards the bed, “we are impressed with you Bodwin,” he said with a wide smile.

“Yes” said Hendi as he stepped closer towards them.

“We would like you to join us,” said Coustin as he approached the group.

“My friends would like to train you to help the people of Eomar. Train your ability to see the danger before it hits you in the back of the head, like yesterday,: she said smoothly.

“Why me?” saked Bodwin.

“That's a good question,” said Coustin who was attempting to swallow his amusement at the shocked look in Bodwin's eyes.

“Join us, we'll show you why” said Trayvr through what seemed to be a devious smile.

“You will get one of these outfits!” said Hendi with a big toothy grin, “I saw the way you looked at us in the alley.” He chuckled, “You know you want one!”

Trayvr shook his head, “you would think the outfit is all Hendi thinks of...” “That's not true,” snapped back Hendi, “I just wanted to add something to the conversation!”

Coustin's swallowing failed and he laughed out the words, “These two are always at each other's throats.”

“Men!” she said with a strength that seemed to shake the whole room. The three of them dropped their heads, “sorry,” they said in unison.

“Now Bodwin, because of your actions yesterday I suspect that there is a deeply engrained ability within you that allows you to see problems before they arise,” she said. “You have noticed something like this before, have you not?”

He thought about what had happened the night before last, 'maybe that was what the dizzy head thumping sensation was, those voices tormenting me,' but he pushed it aside with an outward chuckle, “you're crazy!” he said.

“That may very well be true,” she said smoothly through a broad smile, “but you will know the benefits of that craziness only if you join us.”

“What have you got to lose,” said Trayvr, “I never had the ability that she seems to think you have.” He scratched his forehead, “I think it would be great to see how fast you can climb; you can climb can't you?”

“At the very least you will have a place to live and food in your belly,” interrupted Coustin.

“Well,” she said interrupting the both of them, “if you decide to join us then your training starts today.”

'I have to get away from these idiots,' he thought 'but what if...' “I have to meet a friend when Dazbog reaches the highest point,” said Bodwin with his eyes suspiciously shifting between the four of them.

“What is a … Dazbog?” saked Hendi.

“One of their fake religions designed specifically to keep the rich powerful, and to stop the poor from murdering them,” said Coustin. “It's the same sort of thing in every city. It's kind of sad really!”

“That sounds a little primitive to me...” started Hendi before he was interrupted.

“Men!” she said smoothly but filled with the same amount of strength as before.

“Now Bodwin, Hendi will take you for a run to see how long you can last,” she said with sweetness oozing from her voice, “if you can't last long enough then you may go to see your friend.”

“You'll reward me for not being good enough?” Bodwin chuckled, 'these people are stupid, but... food and a place to sleep would be good,' he thought. “Alright, I'm in. But I'll need something to eat before we run!”

Looking at the four of them smiling at him he could not help but think that he may have gotten into something a little over his head. 'You're an idiot Bodwin,' he thought as he joined in with their contagious smiling.

“Good,” she said, “I'm sure you will miss your appointment with your friend.” She chuckled and said, “First though, we need to get you some clothes.”

“What's wrong with mine?” he asked.

She laughed, “Let's just say they weren't fit enough to burn. Coustin my dear, why don't you go see if you can... aquire some newish clothes for our new friend here,” she turned to Bodwin and simled, “He's very good at finding clothes,” then winked her right eye.

 

 

Darkness weighs heavy within The Dead Woods. The thick blanket of dead branches spraying out from dead trees bars the light of the moon from seeping through creating a depth to the blackness. A depth that is enhanced by the darkness of early morning stretched across the land, trying vainly to hold out against the inevitable raising of Dazbog's ugly golden head from the east. No hooting of owls can be heard. No sound of snapping twigs by animals wandering aimlessly through the blackness. No bugs creeping. Nothing grows in here, and so nothing comes here. The Dead Woods will remain forever a solitary place. Legend says that these woods used to be a thriving place with all sorts of birds and animals feeding off the woods prosperity, and that the original city of Eomar was built from the wood of trees that once grew here. But in the time of desolation this place was hit and punished hard by stray lightning bolts forking from the sky into the ground destroying the trees roots, electrifying the land, and killing every living thing. The only sound in these woods is a deep eerie rumbling hum, which according to the legend is the continued existence of the stray lightning beneath the ground slowly being released through the trees, continuously killing evey attempt that any plant life makes at regeneration.

The Dead Woods extend out towards the west from the Southern Pillar road up to the Misty Mountains, where the blackened trees have melded into the cliffs as if they were finally one in the same. Some of the trees are sticking out of the precipice, not as if they have grown that way, but as if the rock face had attempted to reclaim the woods and lost inspiration by the dead trees attempt to strangle the crag internally. This war like resemblance between the woods and the Misty Mountains eventually became a stalemate and as a result, they now work together. The cliffs help the Dead Woods with their eerie hum, creating an echoing effect that improves the sound creating a louder, electrified hum that has more of a likeness to rolling thunder. This menacingly loud, electric rumbling hum manages to terrify many travellers on the Southern Pillar road, who then produce haunting stories that nearly always make the traveller sound more heroic than the brown smelly stains in their trousers prove. In the middle of this war like stalemate, almost buried by blackened rock is a hole in the precipice about the size of a child in the middle of their tenth cycle. A tight squeeze for anyone older, but once through the gap there is a clearing inside big enough to fit twenty fully-grown people. The air within is stale and smells like electrically petrified wood and rock; the shape of this cave, the roundness, the depth and height of the ceiling creaters a quite stillness that has managed to block the magnified hum from entering. There is no way for light to enter, which creates a blackened darkness that is darker than dark should be. This blackened darkness is dry, cold, and oppressive; the type of coldness that only exists from the absence of both sunlight and life.

Sitting in the middle of this cave with her legs crossed, the palms of her hands on her knees, trying not to contemplate on the events of the previous day, and while fighting to control a comfortable cool shiver, she was finally entering into the peace so desperately needed. The consolation of darkness had always helped ease the pain. No matter what had happened to her, or anyone else, she knew that peace could be found in total blackness. Being unaware of how she knew this did not bother her; as long as everything is covered by blackness then nothing can distract her from looking through the mind's eye. Certain scenarios from the past, present, and future could be thought through bringing a truth to the reality that had just been witnessed. She smiled to herself, assured in the knowledge that Dazbog could never find her in this blackness.

 

“I hate sun worshippers,” she said seething with distain.

The sound of her voice echoing off the walls and slowly fading out brought back the security of the noiselessness. She raised her head towards the unseeable ceiling and closed her eyes relishing the serenity. The possibility of nothingness seeping into her and exposing the stupidity of that religion released her from the pain of watching two friends executed. She smiled at the fortune of finding this sanctuary and as the moments trickled by she let the silent serenity competely envelope her.

 

Luuuu... came a soft but deep sounding whisper out of the silence from her left. Spinning her head towards the sound, she sniffed twice. Smelling nothing she raised her head towards the ceiling, closed her eyes and smiled, 'idiot,' she thought.

...carrrr... another soft sounding whisper came out from the depth of silence from the right. Cocking her head in that direction, sniffing twice and smelling nothing, she raised her head up, closed her eyes 'must be a slight breeze' she thought.

...eeesss... came from behind in a softer yet deeper whisper. Her eyes stayed closed, and the smile on her face broadened.

...HA! exploded loudly out from the nothingness right in front of her. Her eyes opened wide, her head dropped facing downward, her smile released as her bottom jaw tightened.

“Who's there?” she asked softly in a steady trembling tone. There was no answer. She held her breath, her eyes darted left and right hoping that she might see a glinting, or something to give away the voices position. As the moments trickled by, she sat like that, not moving, and breathing only when she absolutely had to, until she had convinced herself that it was just a trick of her expansive imagination. Raising her head towards the ceiling again and closing her eyes she smiled 'stupid girl!' Get a hold of yourself' she thought.

...luuucarrr... rumbled the whisper in an even deeper tone out from the stillness to the right. She stood up and turned to the right, and sniffed twice but found nothing.

...eesshaaa... rumbled the deeper tone slightly louder than a whisper. Spinning to look behind, sniffing frantically, with shaking hands, she asked again, “who's there?” There was no answer. She started turning around, and around with just a slither of hope that she might see something, or somebody while thinking to herself 'It's just my imagination. I'm not crazy; it's in my head, that's all!' She dropped back to the ground and thought 'I;ve got to get out of here' as she crawled to the cave wall. 'If it is in my head then maybe I am crazy, but if it's not...' she thought and then whimpered as she continued to crawl. She banged her haed on the wall of the cave, which snapped her back to the reality of the situation. Shaking wildy, she placed her right hand on the wall and started to crawl like a three-legged dog around the walls of the cave in attempt to find the opening.

Lucaresha!

The echo of the deep rumbling voice exploding out of nothing reverberated around the cave without softening, until it just vanished. The wild shaking became uncontrollable as she frantically continued to search for the exit, muttering to herself about not allowing insanity to take her over. The moments trickled by in a silence, which was peppered with her soft high-pitched sporadic moans, until at last she found the exit.

Lucaresha! Lucaresha! Lucaresha! Lucaresha!

She jumped to her feet, turned to face where the voice had come from, and while continuing to shake wildly, she screamed as loud as she could, “What do you want from me!” Her voice echoed deafeningly throughout the cave at an alarmingly high pitch, and then faded into a silence, which was broken by Ahahaha... ha ha... ha ha ha haaa... The roaring laughter created a deafening echo bouncing off the walls. She could feel the strength of the laughter. It felt like a bombardment of fists punching her in the face and stomach, knocking the wind out of her and replacing it with an entity that was foreign to her; fear.

“Stop it!” she screamed, and heaved for air; “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”

It stopped. Her hands clenched into fists, and sweat began beading on her forehead, she continued to shake wildly while sucking down as much stale air as she could. Attempting to calm down was proving to be a fruitless exercise, sniffing for an odour did no good either; so she simply asked, “who are you, and what do you want?” Her voice wavered slightly betraying her failed attempt at calmness.

It's in the blood! Came the soft, deep, and controlled reply.

“What is?” she asked a little more calmly than before.

It's in the blood! It's in the blood! It's in the blood! Replied the voice in a deeper and slightly harsher tone than before.

“That didn't answer my question!” she shouted and subconsciously stamped her foot. She could feel a temper coming on, and attempted to swallow it even though she knew it would arise again, eventually.

I can hear it in your voice... and you can smell it in the people.

She stood there mesmerized by the silence that followed those words, almost deafened by it. With thoughts rushing through her head as to what she had just heard, she turned, reached out with her right hand and touched the cave wall. Then getting down on all fours she proceeded towards the hole and started to crawl out of the cave.

Daughter....

She stopped, turned her head back, “what did you say?”

There was no reply. After a moment of terrifying silence, she crawled out of the hole, stood up and turned to her left, placed her hand on the rock face and started to stumble through The Dead Woods towards Eomar.

 

 

Reaching the highest point in the sky Dazbog started torturing Eomar with a violent heat, almost scorching the citizens who had gathered in the city centre. The shine from the bronze balls on each of the five pillars proved that god had arrived and was expecting the daily sacrifice. The crowd, however, were not very jubilant. They were mumbling and groaning as one of the poor deliberately bumped into the horrid smelling wealthy and hissed at them when they spat out atrocious words. Her rotten filth stained blus dress was enough for them to step aside, yet, there was another look to her that had them all horrified. Her eyes were not only black with a little touch of deep green brought on by the glowing bronze balls high above, but also her black hair was stiff, straight and scruffy, kind of like the bristles of a broom. Dark rings circled her eyes, which made her skin look even paler. The look on her face was not sour, but almost enlightened and full of both fear and rage. Her lips were purple and looked like a bunch of bruised grapes. She walked stiffy as if every muscle in her body were cramped and sore. Her head was lurched forward and swivelling as if she been on Doogal's wine all night; both her hands and feet had cuts all over them, and were smothered in dried blood and a greyish mud.

Walking through the path created by people hurriedly stepping aside she grinned and hissed as ripples of words spread through the crowd “By the gods!” “Can you believe that disgusting urchin” “these filthy creatures have no right being here.” She was chukling to herself and stalking through the crowd, with her head spinning left and right, her wild-eyed stared accompanying her toothy grin and that snake like hissing was helping to evaporate some of the abused until a rather large woman stepped in front of her. Her bright red hair was weaved into a bun on the top of her head, which did not do much for her looks other than to expose her three chins.

“It's an offence to the gods that you exist,” she said in a high-pitched voice that was also a little raspy.

The wind from her mouth stunk of garlic. “Look at the state of you girl,” she said, “It is despicable that you are even allowed in our city!”

Lucaresha's eyeborws furrowed, her mouth twitched and then words fell out. “Shut your face, and go back to wallowing in your filth you fat sow!” she screeched, and then smiled as the crowd gasped, and the woman's eyes widened. “Do you know who I an?” the fat sow squealed, “I am Seastnan's wife! The head of the...” “That murderous mongel should be hanging from the rope!” interrupted Lucaresha in a dry, flat tone that was full of hatred as she pushed by the over fed woman and moved deeper into the throng.

A foul taste started to rise from her stomach. She sniffed the air, but all she could smell was the putrid stench of perfume the wealthy use to cover their body odour. Then she saw an interesting sight. “Well, well, well,” she said through an amused chuckle as she came face to face with the sack wearing, scraggly haired bearded man. “Are you going to tell us how The Grate One will destroy Eomar today, madman?” He stepped closer to her with a smile and then shuddered when she sniffed twice and said, “You don't smell!” 'What's wrong with him,' she thought as his smile widened. “Then maybe The Great One has blessed me!” he said in a calm voice. His olive coloured eyes were sparkling with some kind of a knowing, and up this close, his hair did not look very scraggly. His face was wise looking, and covered with wrinkles; he looked as if he was well fed, and yet his stomach rumbled proving he was in the same station in life as she.

Lucaresha laughed, “Maybe. But if that is all your god can do, then we're all doomed,” she pushed him aside in the same fashion as the wealthy had done to her, and continued to stalk through to the Southern Pillar.

 

As she drew closer to the pillar, she became overwhelmed by a most glorious smell. Raising her head, she sniffed twice. The fragrance caused goose bumps to appear all over her body. She closed her eyes and smiled while sniffing as deeply as she could. Her whole body trembled. 'Where is that coming from?' she thought, 'it's like in the warehouse, only... different.' She lowered her head, opened her eyes, and spun her head left, then right while sniffing. 'It's in front of me,' she thought, then started to force her way through the crowd towards the Southern Pillar. The abuse from the wealthy escalated. All around her people were shouting, but she heard nothing. People grabbed hold of her shoulders and shouted in here ears. Before she realised just how much influence the fragrance had over her she started striking back at the crowd. Using her fingernails like claws, she raked at the abusive faces of the crowd. Cries, and shouts for The Watch to help the innocent wealthy were beginning to echo throughout the centre. Lucaresha was still smiling, still hissing. Her eyes were growing wider and wilder, she was focused on one thing; finding the source of that sweet smell. Clawing, slapping, grabbing, being grabbed, dragged, and thrown around until she was finally spewed out of the violent abusive throng. Her fingernauls had chunks of skin embedded in them, her fingertips had little drips of blood falling from them, but she was still smiling, still hissing and she had begun sniffing again. 'The source,' she thought and her smile dropped.

Walking towards him she noticed her stiffness had dwindled 'is this the work of that glorious odour,' she thought, then stopped. 'Not one odour, but four!' she thought as she saw them. The smile returned to her face and spread like a disease.

“Hello Bodwin,” she said, “who are your new friends?”

Bodwin's mouth hung open, 'is this the same girl I grew up with?' he thought. “Are you alright?” he asked with a shocked tone, “what happened in there?”

“Nothing I couldn't handle,” she replied as she stepped closer sniffing. 'Still with that sniffing?' thought Bodwin as he reached out to take hold of her hands. She accepted his hands and stepped in closer and sniffed twice, “who are your friends?” she asked again in the most pleasant tone she could.

Bodwin blushed, “I met them yesterday.” 'What is it about this girl that I find so appealing?' he thought, 'she's not that much fun to be around! More importantly, what was she doing fighting with the filthy rich people. Is she trying to become a sacrifice? And how does she know I'm not alone?' he thought as she said a seductive way, “Well, they smell as gorgeous as you do.” He winced at the smoothness of her voice, which sounded cheaper than Lyra's attempt at sounding sensual. He started to speak, but she released his hands and walked over to Hendi, sniffed twice and asked, “Who might you be,” she sniffed again, her smiled widened as she winked her left eye.

“Lucaresha!” interrupted Bodwin a little louder than he should have, “what by the gods has gotten into you!” She spun around. Raised her right hand, pointed her index finger at him, sniffed twice and said, “There are no gods. You need to wizen up Bodwin!” Her voice was harsh, raspy, and almost bitter. 'Is she jealous?' thought Bodwin.

The goose bumps were beginning to release; the warm euphoric feelings dissipating. The fabulous fragrance was becoming stale; she was starting to become angry. 'What's happening to their smell,' she thought 'why has it become so... rank!'

It's in the blood whispered the voice in her left ear. Turning her head that way, “what is?” she asked.

Bodwin looked at her, with his eyes wide, and eyebrows arched, and asked, “What did you say?”

Luacresha turned and snapped at him, “I'm not talking to you!” her tone was deep, angry, slightly high pitched, and yet somehow sexy.

It's in the blood whispered the voice again, taste the blood! Her eyes widened, her head dropped “I don't know what you are talking about!”

You will soon

Bodwin placed both of his hands on her shoulders, “Lucaresha,” he asked, “are you alright?”

She smiled, “Bodwin,” she said while rubbing her right hand across his left cheek, “my beautiful, smelly friend.” He had never heard her voice sounding this sweet, or this alluring before. “It is more than enough to know that The Watch will not be sacrificing you today!” She took a step backwards, and as she was about to walk away said, “Don't get caught,” battering her eyelids and widening her smile, “I don't know what I would do if I couldn't... smell you again!” then she disappeared down the Southern Pillar road.

“Well Bodwin,” said Trayvr steppeing forward and placing a hand on his shoulder, “you have some weird and interesting friends!”

Coustin laughed and Hendi asked, “You have to introduce me to her again some time! She's the type I like.”

While cachinnating Trayvr said, “She'll eat you alive, Hendi. Come on, we've got to train this love sick puppy!”

“Who's the love sick puppy?” asked Bodwin, which caused the other three to laugh.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

The Rotten Splice was starting to come to life as many of the poor returned from the daily worship. Groups of human figuers were scattered around the edges of the square squabbling about this and that. The centre itself was almost empty. The cauldron was perched on the edge of the central fire pit and there was some scruffy old woman dropping chunks from some kind of dead animal into it. Bodwin shuddered at the thought of the foul slop that would emerge from the cauldron at the end of the day.

“This will nicely,” said Coustin as they reached the centre.

Trayvr and Hendi smiled and stepped back ten paces, “I quite like this part,” said Hendi.

Trayvr looked at him, his right eyebrow arched upwards, “So I take it you don't remember this lesson then?”

“I never had this teaching,” replied Hendi.

Trayvr chuckled, “That's not what I remember!”

“What will do nicely?” asked Bodwin as his head spun between all three of them. “Why have you two moved away? What is going on? What doesn't Hendi remember?'

“His training!” replied Coustin, “Let's show him what he's missed, hit me!”

Bodwin chortled, “What?”

“Hit me,” replied Coustin.

“No,” said Bodwin, “friends shouldn't fight with each other.” He frowned, “We are friends, aren't we?”

Coustin smiled, “only if you hit me.”

Bodwin scratched the back of his head and looked at his feet 'this doesn't make sense' he thought. He looked up towards Trayvr and Hendi and shuddered at their smiles, 'first they get me to run, and now they want to beat me up!' he thought, ' and they call it training?'

“You always do that,” said Coustin with a laugh.

“Always do what?”

“Scratch the back of your head when you're nervous,” replied Coustin.

“I do not!” spat Bodwin, “and how by the gods would you know? We only met yesterday!”

“And you always defend yourself when called to task for your actions!” said Coustin through clenched teeth.

 

Bodwin frowned and in the pit of his stomach was an eruption. Heat rose in him and started fighting for control. His eyes began to twitch, sweat protruded from his forehaed, his hands clenched into tight solid balls. He hated this eruption feeling; it was as if something else was trying to internally dominate him. Attempting to control the inevitable outcome he began inhaling deeply slowly through his nose and exhaling fast through his mouth. Control never came.

Coustin stepped up to him, “all you will ever be in this life depends on how you react in a fight. You need to know when to fight, and when to walk away. This isn't the time to walk, you need to learn to take a beating as well,” Coustin smiled.

“You're pretty sure of yourself!” replied Bodwin through a slightly nervous chuckle, “What makes you think you'll beat me?”

“Hit me and I'll show you!” said Coustin.

“No,” said Bodwin. As he turned and started to walk away Coustin shouted after him, “How much can you ever know about yourself if you refuse to fight?”

Clusters of Human figures started to gather around the centre, obviously sensing some form of entertainment was about to explode.

“You will never do what is right until you learn how to fight!” shouted Coustin. “Bodwin, Eomar is suffering a lot, and not because of the corruption of The Watch, or Ruskin the usurper, but because of the inactivity of good people like you!”

Bodwin stopped, turned back and stared with a confused look upon his face, then shouted back “Everything happens for a reason!”

Coustin interrupted with loud insulting laughter, “Sometimes the reason is because people like you are stupid. Stupid people make bad decisions!” Coustin took two steps toward Bodwin, “Do not allow you're self to become one of the stupid comfortable people Bodwin. Comfort is the enemy of achievement!”

The look in Coustin's eyes was something to behold. It was as if he was something different, something vicious. Something of a vigil-anti hero or whatever it was he was supposed to be in whatever city he came from, however long ago that was. Bodwin shuddered at the sight, swallowed, took a step closer. 'I must be crazy to do this' he thought as he tried to smile, which came out more like a snarl. Bodwin took a quick look at the others; Hendi was smiling and nodding his head, while Trayvr's mouth was drawn long and flat as if he was trying to suppress a smile.

“Do you really think I'm comfortable living in this filth?” rasped Bodwin. “Take a good look at this place! These people are everything I hate about this city. They do nothing to help themselves, but gather around in their silly groups contemplating the impossible task of breaking into the warehouses.”

The fire within was burning beyond control, even though his breathing was relaxed, and the sweat beads had slowed their arrival. His head was remarkably calm and yet almost consumed with an anger toward Coustin that was battling for control. It felt like there was somebody else inside him trying to get out; an alter ego that was fuelled by rage, hatred, and violence.

“So what are you going to do about it?” asked Coustin.

There was no hope of control left for Bodwin. The firey rage won, completely immersing him in hatred for the way the poor were used to appease Dazbog. The way the good poor people of the city did not react when The Watch came hunting them. Poor people thieveing from the poor, mass produced food prepared out of desperation from the most terrible ingredients. The state of the dilapidated buildings that were almost falling down around them, and the smell! The faecal slop tossed into the street was most probably the reason for all the different types of diseases the urchins were plagued with. It was all too much for Bodwin; he snapped, rushed forward, and grabbed Coustin around the throat with both hands and started squeezing. Coustin just smiled, took hold of Bodwin's wrists and leaned backwards until he fell pulling both of them to the ground, he then rolled to the left, broke Bodwin's hold and stood up.

“Now, that's better, my friend,” he snarled, then leaned forward a little, raised his hands and spat in front of him “come and get me, Eomarian trash!”

Bodwin jumped to his feet at the sound of the insult, and then lunged again at Coustin who managed to step aside and slap him on the back of the head. Bodwin spun to the right on his left heel and connected in the midsection with his right foot, which Coustin caught and lifted up above his head forcing Bodwin back to the dirt. Climbing to his feet he saw the grin on Coustin's face, that look of hatred for his opponent; Bodwin shuddered 'he's not my friend' he thought as Coustin stalked towards him with his fists balled and held in front of his face. Bodwin copied him.

Many of the human figure that plague The Rotten Splice with their presence had formed a circle around the two men and were beginning to shout and cheer as Coustin threw a left jab into Bodwin's jaw. Bodwin unwittingly threw his left fist into Coustins face and followed through with a right that sent Coustin stepping backwards, with a shocked look on his face.

Hendi laughed, “I've never seen that happen before!”

“He has courage, I'll give him that,” replied Tryavr. “However, he will pay for that!”

Seeing a chance of finishing it Bodwin stepped forward and threw a series of punches that were easily blocked by Coustins forearms. The crowd grew bigger and the cheering grew louder.

“Look how fast those punches are!” said an astounded Hendi, “Have you ever seen anything like that before?”

Trayvr shook his head, “It's not about the speed, although it helps. Look how easy Coustin blocks him, there is no power in his punches. He's not strong enough for this yet.”

Coustin's right foot sprung up kicking Bodwin in the stomach forcing him backwards. Coustin took two quick steps forward, jumped and threw a flying right punch into Bodwin's nose causing an explosion of blood to splatter across his face leaving a pattern resembling that of a crimson spider web. He staggered backwards in a crumbling manner from the force and sharp pain then fell on his butt. The crowd was ecstatic with shouts of “finish him!”

Tryavr looked at Hendi, “told you he'd pay for it!”

Coustin wasn't finished. He circled around and came from behind, dropped to one knee, clamped his right arm around Bodwin's neck and started to block the flow of air. Bodwin's eyes widened, as the steady crimson flow continued to ooze from his nose and started to pool on Coustins forearm. 'Can't breath,' thought 'what to do.' He started to get dizzy, his eyes began to feel as if they were sweating, and his brain screamed for air, he started to claw at the forearm with no success. POKE HIM IN THE EYE said a deep, calm voice; a new voice. Without thinking, Bodwin complied and stabbed Coustin in the right eye with his index finger and the hold was broken. The crowd roared with jubilation.

“That was unexpected,” said Trayvr through a large smile, while looking sideways at Hendi.

Bodwin clawed his way back to his feet, panting heavily. He turned to see Coustin stamping around holding his eye, and cursing at anything and everything. Bodwin took the opportunity. He sprung forward and stared punching Coustin, both hands taking their turn while shouting, “Is this what you want!” until he felt a sudden sharp, sickening feeling explode from his groin causing him to double over. Trayvr started clapping, “looks like Bodwin has taught Coustin something new!” he laughed, “Did you expect that?”

Hendi shook his head, “no” he said through a devious grin, “but I just learnt something!”

Looking up through his eyebrows Bodwin wheezed out the words, “You cheated!”

Coustin grabbed Bodwin's jaw with the left hand and forced him to stand up straight, “there is no cheating in a fight my friend. Besides, you poked me in the eye!” Coustins right fist crashing into Bodwin's left jaw felt like he had been hit by a rock; he crumpled to the ground unconscious.

 

As the crowd of gutter slime started to disperse, with mumbling, grumbling, and groaning about how the afternoon's entertainment hadn't lasted long enough, a young man dressed in grey and wearing a hood, stayed behind staring at the bloody crumpled mess of Bodwin lying in the dirt. The man who won the fight was standing beside the two other men, bleeding from his nose, and covering his swelling right eye with his right hand, but he was still laughing and joking about the fight. The young man looked across at the three of them and took a step forward.

“I won't do that if I were you, Raguel.”

The suprise of the voice from behind caused him to spin around only to find himself staring at the old scraggly haired prophet. He chuckled at the sight and then, in a tone that still wavered with suprise, he asked, “why not?”

“Becuase you are not that type of person,” said the prophet.

“And what makes you think that?”

Through a deep breath and wide smile he said, “The other night when you, that broken boy over there, and the black haired girl managed to escape the clutches of The Watch, two of your friends wound up hanging from the ropes, what happened to the other girl?” asked the porphet.

The younger man took a step forward, raised his right hand and started poking the older man in the chest with the index finger, “You better mind our own business, old man, or what happened to Bodwin will happen to you!”

“Oh, Raguel,” said the prophet with a gleam in his eyes, “I am quite confident that you will not lay a hand on me.” He took a step forward, “In fact, I see a deep compassion within you which will stop you from bringing harm to anyone within these walls.”

Raguel laughed. “Do you think so old man?” while continuing to laugh, he said “What makes you think that? How do you know you won't be my first?”

The old man smiled, “because you didn't trun and walk away when I accused you of breaking and entering. Also, anyone else in Eomar would have at least attempted to carry out their threat instead of standing there in front of their accuser stiff with fear!” The old man chuckled and slowly shook his head, “there is more to you than even you know, and I would like the opportunity to help you realise and come to peace with that part of you.”

Raguel shook his head and took a step back, furrowed his eyebrows, “I don't need your false assumptions, old man; or your ridiculous prophecies for that matter. So just leave me be, I'm nothing more than Eomarian scum, a lost cause according to Ruskin.”

“The Great One does not recoginse you as a lost cause, son; in fact, quite the opposite!”

Raguel cringed at the words, but never moved a muscle as the prophet took another step forward, it was as if he somehow knew the old man was right. A cold, yet comforting shiver ran up his spine.

“Tell me,” said the old man, “Why did you run through the valley and leave five of your friends behind?”

Another cool shiver ran up his spine, “The Watch,” he said, “they have a tendency to sacrifice people to Dazbog for that sort of crime.”

“I have witnessed many,” said the old man sadly.

“Well that's not all,” said Raguel, “sometimes victims are forced to join the army as a way to make amends for their faults,” he shook his head 'why did I say that,' he thought and then continued to talk anyway. “If you're lucky you may survive just to be reinstated as a productive member of the usurper king's hypocritical society.” Raguel cringed again, 'me and my big mouth,' he thought. “That is, as a house slave,” he said while continuing to squirm at his inability to keep his big fat mouth shut. “Gods only know the torments that happen then; I have never met a slave. They are supposedly chained inside the houses,” he said and felt a tingle of relief that he could finally close his big gob.

The old man smiled, “well then, what scares you the most?” he asked, “being forced back into society through military campaigns, and slavery; or hanging from a rope?”

“Neither. Both, I'm not sure which is worse,” said Raguel, “that's why I ran,” 'oh, how I hope he doesn't work for Seastnan' he thought.

“You left your friends to share in the fate that you fear the most,” said the old man. “Not such a noble cause, was it?”

Raguel's head fell forward and hung low, heavy with the shame of abandoning his friends, a tear fell from the prophets left eye, “you also saw the outcome while standing beside the only two who managed to escape the warehouse before The Watch could get there, all because you alerted them, and not just with your bad impersonation of an owl, but because of your reckless loud shouting.”

The old man placed his right hand on Raguel's left shoulder and said, “Son, your voice is now known to Seastnan. You can be sure that he will be after you, as he is most certainly looking for that young man lying there in the dirt. Also, the black haired girl I saw you with the other day will be on his list.”

Raguel lifted his head to look into the old man's eyes, his bottom lip quivered as the old man removed his hand from the younger man's shoulder. “I think that your fear of hanging from a rope will become a reality, unless you find another place to be.”

Raguel's eyes widened with astonishment and he attempted to take a step back, failed, then said, “And where by the gods am I supposed to be?”

“Well,” said the old man through a reassuring and somehow disturbing smile, “if you like, you are welcome to come with me.”

Raguel cursed and then lowered his haed again, “I'm not sure if that would be wise. I'm just not that way inclined,” 'you dirty old bastard' he finished in his thoughts. “However,” he said, “There are quite a lot of women in The Rotten Splice who would jump at the chance to bed a prophet. I, on the other hand, am prepared to run in the other direction, well away from this kind of opportunity.”

The old man laughed. “No, no, no.” he said, “I think you have the wrong idea. I do not intend to take advantage of you, quite the opposite actually. All I mean to do is show you a place where you will have food and shelter; a place where The Watch refuses to come.”

Raguel raised his head and stared into the old man's eyes, 'this has to be a lie' he thought 'why would anyone help trash like me.' “I'm not sure,” he said, “where is this place? Can we bring Bodwin?”

The old man turned his head to the left and said, “It looks as though he already has what I'm offering you. Albeit strange that he should want to be sheltered with those who beat on him.”

Looking over at Bodwin, Raguel noticed out of the corner of his eye a brown haired woman wearing a green dress with deep blue-spiralled weavings come out of The Fallen Vagabond; a tavern that was once the pride of The Rotten Splice, but now nothing more than another tragedy surrounded by dilapidated buildings struggling to stay upright. She glided over to Bodwin, bent over and placed both hands on either side of his face; everything started to become colder, the sunlight, what little there was, started to flitter as if dancing with the wind.

The three men laughing about the fight stopped their joking and headed towards the woman. She straightened up, turned to them and said through a smooth silky voice, “Coustin, you have gone too far this time.” Coustin lowered his head, as she continued, “If there is no need to beat him unconscious, then by the gods, do not knock him unconscious!”

Coustin looked up at her and smiled, “I think you have made a good choice with Bodwin. He will make an excellent addition to the team.”

“Only if you three treat him correctly, we need him to trust us not to fear the next lesson,” her voice changed from a smooth silky tone into a husky honey drenched tone, “Please men, carefully pick Bodwin up and follow me inside to the bedroom.”

Raguel did not know what to think as he watched the three men carefully pick Bodwin up and follow her into The Fallen Vagabond. He turned to the old man, “I can see why he stays with them! She's a good looking woman, and that voice!”

The old man just stared; his bottom jaw looked to be unhinged, “Are you both deaf and blind? That woman is older than me, and her voice sounds like a hedgehog screaming in pain while a half starved dog gnaws at its midsection!”

Raguel laughed, “Maybe it's you who's both deaf and blind! Mind you, old age is a good excuse.” He continued to laugh while the old man just shook his head, “Youth of today,” he said, “arrogant, rude, horny, and thicker than pig crap!”

Raguel placed both of his balled fists on his hips, “Alright old man, what's you problem?”

The old man smiled, “You!” he shook his head again, “I have lived in Eomar for the better part of ten cycles, and all I have seen is idiot after idiot follow idiot leaders. Like your friend there, and like you the other night. The smartest thing you have ever done is run from that situation.”

The old man took a step forward, and smiled in a way that made a warm shiver run the length of Raguel's spine, as if the old man had gently stroked his back, Raguel's eyes widened. The old man placed his right hand on Raguel's left shoulder and said, rather harshly, “stop calling me old man! It is true I have seen quite a few cycles, but that is no reason for you to be rude!”

Raguel tried to take a step back but found that the old man was somehow clamping him to the spot. He tried to squirm in an attempt to wiggle out from the right hand, but all that did was cause the old man's smile to widen. Raguel gave up, looked the old man in the eyes and said, calmly and politely, “what is it that I'm supposed to call you then?”

The old man released his grip, dropped his smile and said, “Alee-aidiz.”

Raguel chuckled, “What kind of name is that?”

“The one my mother gave me!” He said sternly, and while shaking his head again, muttered, “ I don't think you would fit in with the group I shelter with, I should've kept my mouth shut,” then turned his back to Raguel and started to walk away. Raguel followed.

Alee-aidiz walked faster than expected, dodging through a crack in a wall, then into an alleyway, moving with more speed the further he went. Raguel started to have trouble keeping him in sight. He couldn't remember the last time he had trouble chasing down an old man. Alee-aidiz ducked to the right into a crumbling building, which use to be the tailors guild headquaters. Some of the best robes, dresses, and blankets in all of Western Thera were made here. However, now it was empty, except for the desperate people who would squat in the dark hiding from The Watch. By the time Raguel had entered the main room, Alee-aidiz had managed to run through into the back, which amazed Raguel who was intent on keeping him in sight. Upon entering the back room, he noticed the back end of Alee-aidiz sliding out of the window in the far corner. Raguel sprinted to the window and skilfully fell through it without making too much noise, or mess of himself. Scrambling to his feet, wiping dust off his clothes, he saw Alee-aidiz and continued the chase through the alleys.

Raguel started to find himself impressed by Alee-aidiz, his knowledge of Eomar's back alleys, the speed he could move, and the way he had managed to get him to talk without doing anything. 'That clamped to the spot feeling,' thought Raguel 'how did he do it.' He continued to follow unaware of where he was heading, but convinced that the old man was testing him. He couldn't explain how he knew, but the old man would accept him into the shelter. 'I should learn to hold my tongue' he thought. He started noticing people crowding the street, 'the street' he thought as he looked down, 'it's clean.' Yet, still not really paying attention to his surroundings he did manage to notice that Alee-aidiz had started moving like an old man again, slowly limping through the corwd, hunched over, bumping every now and then into a wealthy person. Raguel smiled, 'you old dog' he thought as he started to weave his way through the crowd. The longer he followed the more he continued to forget about his surroundings. It was easy enough for him to wander through the crowd because everyone looked to be repulsed by what they saw and stepped away from him, deliberately denying the fact that he even existed. However, Alee-aidiz managed to attract attention, by bumping into people, possibly on purpose. Raguel found it amusing watching the wealthy abuse Alee-aidiz, only to be sorely reprimanded by the old man's quick smooth tongue. 'He would make a great thief' he thought as he followed lost in the joy of the chase, without a care for what direction he was haeding, until he heard a seagull squawk! He stopped, and stared at his surroundings, 'crap' he thought 'I'm in Boils Embayment.'

The realization of where he had followed Alee-aidiz sunk in. He spun on his heal looking around, hoping that The Watch hadn't seen this piece of South Eastern scum unwittingly wander into the North Eastern section of the city. He mouthed a silent prayer to one of the many gods begging them to protect him if he had been seen. Not knowing what to do, whether or not he could remove himself from this section without being noticed, when a woman's voice whispered in his right ear, “It is dangerous for you to be in this part of the city.”

He turned to look at her. She was dressed in similar fashion as him, except in dark brown robes and without a hood. She had long blond hair that was knotted and scruffy, and her eyes were like shiny bright blue sapphires embedded deep within the black rings that exposed her many sleepless nights. She smiled, “It's alright,” she said. “Come with me. I know a place where you will be safe.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “That's the second time I have heard that today. The first time lead me here.”

She smiled, “I saw you following Alee-aidiz, and considering the way you are dressed I figured you were not trouble.”

She turned and started to move towards the port, gracefully moving aside for the wealthy, and thereby avoiding abusive insults. Raguel shook his head, looked up to the sun and said, “Dazbog, have you really answered my prayer?”

With no answer he started to follow her, however, there was no grace in him. He did not avoid the abusive insults; it was more like he preyed upon them, inciting more than was his fair share. The woman, who did not seem to enjoy this, turned and gracefully glided up to him and with a peaceful smile she said, “You do know that it is wiser to avoid trouble in this part of the city, especially if you are one of us!”

He just stared at her, and then shook his head, “I am not sure what you mean by one of us!”

She just smiled and said, “come and you will see.”

She turned and continued towards the port, reluctantly he followed. The closer he was to her, the less abuse he received. In fact, people once again began to deny his existence.

The closer to the port he came the more he could hear the seagulls squawking. Their high pitch cries for more shellfish and whatever scraps of food that could be found was a cacophony that had turned into a vile noise that he wished to be far away from. The port was the only place in Eomar that was busy with workmen, which was also something he hadn't seen before. Small boats with too many fishermen aboard were both struggling to return, and leave the port. The amount of fish in wooden crates had him astounded. He tapped her on the left shoulder and asked, “Where will all the fish end up?”

She turned towards the crates and said with sadness in her voice, “It will be scattered among the wealthy in both the North Western and North Eastern sections.”

His eyes widened, “There is enough here to feed the whole of Eomar, why scatter it only among the wealthy?”

“You know better than that, do you not?” She shook her head, “Come, there is food where we are going.”

He followed her as she climbed down a set of almost rotten steps that led into the darkness underneath the harbour, which was broken by beams of light showering down through the cracks in the docks. He had trouble seeing where they were going, even though his eyes were slowly becoming accustomed to the darkness.

“Over here,” she called softly. He turned to the right and struggled to make out her silhouette resting on a flat rock near the bank. With his eyes adjusting a little more quickly he moved towards her and asked, “What is your name?”

“Now Raguel, isn't it rather foolish of you to follow a person this far without knowing their name?”

He spun to his left and saw nothing, but said, “I was hoping you weren't leading me on a wild chase old man!”

Alee-aidiz laughed, “I almost lost you though!” His laughter was almost infectious, and Raguel giggled and at the same shivered with the thought of being upstaged by an old man.

A hand touched his right shoulder, he almost jumped out of his skin, “My name is Shareena,” she whispered in Raguel's ear, “And you have been chosen to join us!”

“Did Alee-aidiz choose me, or is this some kind of trick to rob me of what little I have!” said Raguel in a rough sceptical tone.

“Don't be silly boy,” said Alee-aidiz with a laugh, “I would never choose the likes of you. No, no, no.

There is much you need to know about yourself, and who it is would choose the type that you are.”

“Well whoever this person is,” said Raguel softly and rather dryly, “let me meet this person and get it over with!”

“It's not that simple,” said Shareena.

“The young lass is correct,” agreed Alee-aidiz, “the One who chose you is not a person, as such. But you will meet the One, in a certain way that only you will understand.”

“So, when will that be?” asked Raguel not really understanding what had just been said.

Alee-aidiz stepped up to Raguel and placed his right hand on the younger man's left shoulder, and the weight of the world seemed to clamp him to the spot again, “We cannot enter the sanctuary until night fall.”

“Why not,” asked Raguel.

Shareena walked up from behind, “well,” she said in sweet tone in his left ear as she rested her right hand on his right shoulder, “that's because...” she was interrupted by Raguel collapsing. He dropped to the sand like a rock falling from the sky.

“What did you do that for?” asked All-aidiz.

“I didn't mean to” she replied, “I only touched him...”

“You should know better,” interrupted Alee-aidiz, “I already had him in my grasp. Two hands are dangerous, one is often far more than enough.”

“Alright, knock it off,” she said rather loudly, “its dark under here. Maybe your eyes can adjust quickly, but mine can't!”

“Then you should have held back!” he said sternly.

“Yeah, you are right,” she said, “I just... I find it a little hard to judge what will happen whenever I do... I don't know how, or why! Sometimes I have control, other times it does what it wants!”

Alee-aidiz shook his head, “maybe you were released too early! It doesn't matter, grab his feet. We will have to carry him now.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

Standing on the roof of the dilapidated tavern scratching the back of his head while looking into The Rotten Splice, Bodwin couldn't help feeling impressed at how different the square looked from this height. The tatterdemealion which usually riddled the derelict centre in daylight weren't so easily seen from three floors up. 'Well,' he thought, 'third hour is a dangerous time of night to be out.' Surveying the edges of the centre he noticed clusters of people huddled underneath mouldy flea ridden blankets, not caring what anyone else was doing, just trying to keep alive and hidden from whatever may happen. He smiled, not at the memory of hiding like that for the past two cycles, at the feeling of not having to do that again. Half starved of sleep and food, continuously having to keep one eye open, not because of thieves, but because the watch would be out looking for the next day's sacrifice. Grabbing anyone they thought fit to exterminate or just causing fear for the sheer fun of it. He shuddered at the memories. “You know,” said Trayvr softly while keeping hidden in the shadows, “the idea of being up here is not to be seen!”

Bodwin looked towards the shadow the voice came out of, “I haven't been up here before,” he said.

Walking softly out the darkness with a smile spread from ear to ear, “Well you have now. Come, you need to learn to stay in the shadows while moving.”

“That's easy enough,” replied Bodwin just as softly.

“True,” replied Trayvr, “but how fast can move?”

“Why does that matter if I'm not seen?”

Trayvr shook his head, chuckled, and then said “the trick isn't being seen. It's whether or not can see what's in the shadows.”

Bodwin furrowed his brows, “what do you mean?”

“Come, I'll show you,” replied Trayvr, and with a smile he turned and said, “See if you can keep up!” then he shot off through the shadows across the roof; Bodwin reacted, suprising himself with the sudden burst of speed.

The roofs were rotten in most places and holes had formed, which made navigation a little tricky. Alleyways cut through the solid wooden mass like streams through a valley separating one depression from the other. Dust from the disturbed dry mould formed clouds with every step they took, Bodwin was suprised that he could see all this within the shadows. Attempting to keep an eye on his surroundings, and trying not to fall through rotten holes or trip over the clutter that riddled the roof tops made it hard to keep track of where they were heading. Everything was different up here, he felt as if he was in another world; he smiled as the feeling invaded him, allowing a sense of freedom, an experience he never knew before inviting him to become truly lost in the euphoria. He submitted to it, and as a result he caught sight of Trayvr moving like a cat, with little bursts of speed here and there, jumping holes with ease, leaping small alleyways. Bodwin kept Trayvr in sight and had no trouble keeping up, until Trayvr stopped suddenly, and perched himself on the corner of the roof like a gargoyle smiling, “I am impressed Bodwin,” he said while trying to keep his breathing slow, “you move quite fast for a first time roof runner!”

Bodwin smiled, “I could easily see you,” he said, “every move you made.”

The look on Trayvr's face brought warmth to his heart.

“Is that so?” Trayvr's smile dropped and he spoke in a snarl, “well then, let's see what you can really do!”

Trayvr stood up, turned, headed in the general direction of the city centre and became invisible, as if he was one in the same with the shadows. Bodwin instinctively followed and quickly lost sight of him. Not fazed by Trayvr's invisibility he sped up, jumping holes like a cat, creating dry mouldy dust clouds with every step. An alleyway quickly appeared in front of him, with no time to think of the consequences he jumped and landed heavier than expected, he grunted and continued, willing himself to move faster. 'I can't see a dame thing' he thought while he instinctively leaped over a large hole, landed with a wobble, regained his footing just in time for another fast approaching alley. He jumped and landed just on the other side heavier and wobbling more than the last when he spied Tryavr and smiled, 'got you.'

 

The sound of something heavy hitting the roof above the alleyway pulled her from the serenity of half sleep. 'The Watch,' she thought as she jumped to her feet, head spinning left and right hoping that the darkness of the alley would keep her out of sight. She sniffed the air eagerly trying to decipher how close they were when a louder, heavier crash hit the roof above. 'What the...' she thought looking up. She shuddered, moved out of the alley and headed towards the city centre, 'what are you doing?' she asked 'go the other way, not into The Watches waiting arms.' She sniffed the air and caught a fragance; a rank smelling fragrance that caused her to cring and at the same time aroused curiosity. She started to run, 'I know that smell,' she thought, 'I hate that smell!' Another heavey crash upon the roof followed quickly by a louder and more clumsy crash gave her a sudden shake. 'I should have gone to the cave,' she whimpered to herself. But, she plucked up what little courage she had, and proceeded, franticly chasing the crashing sounds. While sniffing the air clean in desperation, she found herself at the edge of a large alleyway; the last alleyway before the city centre. This block of wooden structures was the original South Western merchant quarters. The smells from the foods that were cooked here were so intoxicating that you would find yourself standing in queue conversing with some of the wealthiest people in Eomar. That was until Ruskin stole the throne. Now this block of wooden structures is nothing more than just a breeding ground for rats, cockroaches, spiders and flies; and a hovel to hide in when The Watch are out on the prowl.

 

Bodwin's ankles were beginning to feel the strain of jumping, his lungs were beginning to feel the burn, his head started to go numb. 'What an awesome feeling' he thought as the euphoria continued to invade denying him the warning from the pain that was attempting to announce that his knees have had enough. Don't let him escape said a rasping voice. Faster screeched another voice. LOOK OUT, HERE COMES THE BIG ONE! Said a different voice, a deeper more concerned and calculated voice; one which seemed to scare off the other two voices. His head was now clear, not Bodwin noticed. He was too caught up in the excitement of the chase that he unwittingly ignored the voices as he sprinted towards the next alley 'he's not losing me' he thought as he approached the gap then jumped.

 

Standing there shaking her head she noticed a shadow flit across the ground and managed to look up in time to see a human figure leaping across the alley. Her eyes grew wide with disbelief. Her mouth dropped open. She sniffed the air and smiled at the recognition of the rank smell, 'I know you,' she thought. Out of the corner of her left eye she saw another human figure leap out and shout “crap!”

She spun her head quick enough to see the figure plummet to the cobblestones and spray the air with a fragrance similar, but not quite as pungent as that of the figure on the roof.

 

Trayvr stopped in the middle of the roof, 'Where did he go?' he thought as he crouched there waiting. Wiping sweat from his forehead, trying to control his breathing and keeping an ear out of Bodwin's heavy landing that didn't come, he began to worry. 'Maybe that alley was a little big for him,' he chuckled, stood up and walked to the roof edge, looked down, “crap!” he said.

 

Lucaresha looked up at the figure on the roof and watched as it scrambled down the wall and walked slowly toward the crumpled mess on the cobblestones. Another figure appeared, almost out of nowhere and glided towards the two figures. Lucaresha crept forward a little, sniffed the air and almost gagged. 'That stink must be from the new figure.' she thought as she watched it join the other two.

 

Lying there for a moment Bodwin tried to gather his senses before attempting to move, when he noticed that both of his ankles were bent in the opposite direction. The shock of seeing a bone sticking out of the left forearm brought out a deep moan from the pit of his stomach which exposed the pounding in his head that was seemingly reinforced by the stabbing pains in his back. 'Idiot,' he thought, 'why do you listen to these... these... crazy people?' He closed his eyes and tried to dislodge the vision of broken bones from his mind, and to force the pain away by bringing back memeroies of when he and Lucaresha were fresh out of the orphanage, scrounging food from certain wealthy Eomarians; cuddling tightly under a stolen blanket using each other's body heat to fight off the cold winter nights. Finally drifting away from the pain with these memories re-embedding themselves into his head he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

As a natural reaction to being touched in this context, his eyes sprung open suddenly to see a healthy pair of breasts with a large pearl and ruby pendant hanging between them. “Bodwin,” she said in a concerned husky honey drenched tone “can you hear me?” Opening his mouth in attempt to speak just brought forth winded grunts and groans and denied the euphoric cleansing from pain.

“It's going to be alright,” she said with a wink of her eye and compassionate smile. She placed both hands on either side of his face. The hot and cold feeling invaded, reverberated throughout his body causing him to sweat, and shiver at the same time. His mind felt like it was being dragged back from the past and his thoughts were being realigned, or changed; he wasn't quite sure what was happening. But the external tingling sensation that had erupted and enveloped his whole body started to change into the feeling of a million needles bombarding him internally, which released a sense of absolute pleasure; he moaned as this ecstasy penetrated into every part of his being.

 

Lucaresha shivered. The density of air in the alley had started to change; an eerie coldness began to seep in bringing with it a new smell. She sniffed the air and almost gagged, 'this stinks worse than that new figure' she thought. Her stomach began churning and produced an acid taste that bubbled in the back of her mouth. She swallowed trying to fight back the over whelming feeling of wanting to throw up. Clamping the right hand over her nostrils blocked the putrid smell and helped to keep the vomit at bay, but didn't stop the stench from producing tears in her eyes.

Through watery eyes she watched, and was astonished when the shadows in the alley started to move towards the crumpled mess, as if they were being sucked towards him. They formed some kind of black smog that covered him like a thick blanket, but continued to get thicker and darker as more shadows were drawn towards him. The blacker and more dense the smog became the stronger the coldness got, both of them seemingly enforcing the brutal strength of the smell, as if it was feeding off of them and helping the cold smogginess become blacker than any of the alleys shadows. The smog was not truly black, it was more like a heavy cloud just before it releases torrential rain across the land. As the shadows were being drawn towards and disappeared into the smog, she crept forward another two steps in attempt to see who the crumpled mess was, then stopped, her heart beat sped up and her eyes widened allowing the stench to produce more tears 'Bodwin?' she thought, 'oh Bodwin, what have you done to yourself?'

As if on cue the smog began to swirl creating three funnel like shapes spiralling down from underneath; all three spun in different directions and coiled into points that reached down and penetrated both of Bodwin's nostrils and his mouth. Bodwin moaned in what sounded like pleasure, and then there was a loud stomach churning crack, then another, and then another as his bones realigned themselves. The coldness started to dissipate and the rotten fragrance started to evaporate as Bodwin's chest heaved, and in one long deep breath he managed to draw in all the smog until there was nothing left but three human figures in the alley. The shadows had returned to where they had been drawn from, the air had returned to what could be considered normal for Eomar; she released her nose and sniffed the air and smiled at the absence of the putridness, then convulsed at the realisation that Bodwin smelt as rank as the other two figures that stood over him. Then she got a shock as one of the figures bent over and kissed him on the forehead. Lucaresha shuddered with repulsion when she heard a sickly screeching female say, “the kiss is to seal the healing.”

Do not taste his blood said the voice in a flat tone in her left ear.

'Why would I do that,' she thought with a shudder, and then moved back into the alleyway shadows to watch what happened next, and to stay out of sight.

 

The female figure stood up, bent over, exposing more of her ample breasts, and offered Bodwin her hand, “let me help you your feet,” she siad in that husky tone. Bodwin reached for her hand, then shook his head and dropped his arm, “my ankles and arm, they're numb and bro...” she grabbed his hand and yanked him to his feet, smiled and said, “There's nothing wrong with them! Now come with me, training is over for tonight.”

Bodwin stood there looking at his arm. He started to bounce on his toes, and then grinned, “What happened?” he said amazed with this incredible recovery.

“You fell, and broke yourself,” she said, “try to be more careful next time!”

“How did you do that?” he asked.

“Do what,” she replied with a smile and a wink. He scratched the back of his head with his left hand, “What did you do to me?”

She grabbed both of his hands and pulled him closer to her until their noses were almost touching, “Bodwin,” she whispered “there are some things that you don't need to know.”

He dropped her hands, looked deeply into her brown eyes and felt a tingle in his crotch, “what about the kiss,” he whispered, “you said it sealed the healing. What does that mean?”

“Well,” she said “there is no quarantee that you will not break yourself again. But, you will not break the same places again. Those parts are now sealed, unbreakable if you will.” She smiled, winked her left eye “let's go home, you need rest.”

“But...,” his words trailed off as she interrupted him “Bodwin my dear,” she said, “you ask too many questions. Can't you just be happy knowing that I care for your well being?” she smiled at him, placed her left arm over his shoulder. His crotch tingled again causing him to smile. Courage rose up in him as they walked towards The Rotten Splice empowering him to manoeuver his right arm around her waist; she scrunched in closer to him and started giggling like a little girl while Trayvr followed behind shaking his head and muttering to himself “Looks as though she has a new toy boy.”

 

Standing in the shadows, watching as Bodwin and the other two figures walked by, she couldn't help feeling apprehensive about the events she had just witnessed. 'I've got to get out of Eomar,' she thought. Holding still for a few moments, sucking in the serenity that she only finds in the darkness, staring at nothing while trying to ease the thoughts of that revolting smell out of her head, she noticed her whole body was shaking. The palms of her hands were dripping wet with sweat and she was subconsciously sniffing the air. She placed both palms on her cheeks and smiled as the soggy warmth stilled the shaking. Then turning in the opposite direction of the three figures, and walking deeper into the alley she sniffed the air and caught a whiff of something she hadn't recognized before. An extraordinary scent that made her feel as if she was sitting in the middle of a forest of cheery trees in full bloom. The mood she was in before these latest events returned bringing forth a balance to her walk. The calm, relaxing, soothing, and refreshing fragrance brought about the feeling of normality. She grinned at the feeling and quickened her pace, moving through different alleyways, and cracks, dodging the sleeping bundles of the desperate poor hidden within the shadows, while continuously sniffing the air, she hunted for the source. The stronger the scent became the less she cared where she was heading. Around another corner and into a wide alleyway the scent became much stronger, moister, kind of like the smell of summer rain, and yet had a very sweet floral tinge to it. She sniffed in deeply and felt her knees weaken. Her eyes widened, and she stalked forward. Fire torches hung in the bracers that lined this alleys wall producing a dull wavering orangey glow to the cobblestones that seemed to fight the darkness away, and yet she couldn't see the source. Moving through the glowing alley with the air of a cat, head swivelling left and right, sniffing for danger, she caught a whiff of a something spicy embedded within the sweet floral summer rain fragrance. She stopped, turned her head to the right, and peered down a dark alley, then smiled 'Got you' she thought.

As she wandered through the dark alley her heartbeats sped up. Her nose tingled; her eyes began to water ever so slightly as the fragrance strengthened bringing her almost to the point of ecstasy. Stalking slowly and deeper into the dark alley the divine fragrance seemed to be calling to her; no, encouraging her to come closer. With every footstep she sniffed deeper and deeper with pleasure, tasting the divine and creating a desire for more when the sound of her footsteps changed. They became more like a sticky kind of suction sound, the type that is heard when walking through a thick wet mud puddle. She looked down to see that she was standing in a dark black liquid. Lifting her left foot onto her right knee to look at the sole she noticed that the black liquid was more of a reddish colour, and the fragrance from it mixed with the dirty smell of her feet was almost irresistible.

Lucaresha continued moving forward slowly not knowing what to expect, strangely enjoying the warm feeling of her feet in the blackish reddish liquid while deeply sniffing the air, when she kicked something, stumbled and almost fell face first into the liquid. The sudden release of ecstasy caused by her stumble left her feeling hollow, and while squealing deeply but softly, she leaped backwards and unwittingly slammed her back against the alley wall. With wide eyes she started intently at the solid ball shape thing that had caused her to stumble. The harder she stared the more she managed to notice that it wasn't a ball. She crept forward, crouched down at the edge of the liquid, reached out with her right hand and touched the roundish object. It was kind of squishy and hard at the same time, the smell however, was fantastic. Reaching out with her left hand she grabbed hold of something that felt like fur, then sniffed deeply engrossing herself in the odour, closed her eyes and smiled with delight at the pleasure that was offered. Her hands continued to move over the object, in attempt to form blind recognition of what was being fondled, she failed. Opening her eyes, and then picking up the object, which made that suction type of sound, and bringing it close to her face, she noticed that she had hold of a severed female head. She dropped it, stood up, jumped back and once again slammed her back against the wall. Taste the blood said the voice in a tone that seemed to exude joy and confidence. “No!” she said. Go on said the voice with a hint of laughter. Her head fibrillated as she took two steps to her right and surveyed the scene. Looking through the darkness she could vaguely make out the silhouette of a leg on the other side of the alley, and a hand on a window ledge, but she couldn't see the body. Walking around what she now knew to be a blood puddle and subconsciously sniffing, she managed to find both arms, the other leg, but one hand and the torso was still missing. She leaned against a wall, realised she was sniffing, and despite the horrific feeling of the scene she managed to smile with pleasure as the fragrance continued to infiltrate her nostrils enticing a deep seeded desire for more.

Leaning against the wall trying to think of what to do next a drip splashed onto the crown of her head. 'Rain' she thought while sniffing the air. Another drip splashed on her head, then another. She looked up and saw the sign of the old fruit shop, which should have brought back menories of when she and Nicon use to steal apples. But instead, she found the limbless torso impaled on one of the points of the sign. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, “By all the gods,” she said in a tone that suggested she was both appalled and awe struck by the sight, “who would do...” Her sentence was cut short as three or four drips of blood dripped from the corpse and fell into her mouth touching nothing but her tonsils. She automatically gagged, and tried to spit out the blood. Her head began to swim, and dizziness attacked her. She doubled over, stuck two fingers in her mouth and tried to tickle her tonsils. Don't do that said the voice sternly. Removing her fingers from her orifice, she tried to speak, but the dizziness became worse and she fell to her hands and knees. Tears welled up in her eyes, and that acid taste started boiling in the back of her throat, she tried again to vomit but nothing happened.

Raising her head and sniffing the air in attempt to hold back the tears she noticed that the fragrance had become stronger, sweeter, and spicer. A warm sensation started to swarm through her body, bringing peace, while at the same time producing a fear the enveloped her, almost torturing her internally. She began to get hot and flustered, sweat beads sprouted on her forehead, her vision doubled. Pain like she had never felt felt before arose in her stomach. Not a stabbing pain, more like fists trying to punch a hole through her stomach in attempt to escape her body. Her muscles compulsed, twisting her arms and legs into unnatural positions, and her heartbeat sped to an unbelieveable pace. She opened her mouth to scream, but all that came out was a terrifying cackle. Streams of tears carved their way down her cheeks and dripped from either side of her jaw onto the cobblestones, while the cackle continued, 'what's happening to me' she thought without any real hope of an answer. She shook her head trying to stop the cackle, but found that it only became worse; echoing off the alley walls the cackle sounded a little duller, and kind of funny, but also made her feel as if she could control it. So she tried to close her mouth and found that she couldn't. Panicking at the thought of this noise tormenting her for the rest of her life, she spoke to herself internally, demanding for it to stop. It continued. She shouted at herself in her head 'someone will hear us, and we will be caught, and tortured, and blamed for this murder, and then sacrificed to Dazbog. So shut up now!' It did. Her muscles stopped compulsing, and her heartbeat returned to what she thought was normal, and the internal fist fight with her stomach stopped.

Feeling relieved, sweaty, and short of breath she sat on her heels, looked towards the sky and noticed that morning was approaching 'I've got to get away from this mess.' As she started to climb to her feet the dizziness returned, with less force, but was seemingly inviting an uncontrollable shaking that quickly enveloped her and began producing a strong, deep, warmth within her head, which caused a steady stream of snot to flow down from her nostils and across her lips. As the shaking became more violent the dizziness made her feel a form of motion sickness. She leaned forward, placed her forearms on the cobblestones and rested her head on them in that prayer like position, and sobbed.

This will not last said the voice softly, almost encouragely. It is in you... it has always been in you. Taste some more blood and what you are feeling now will disperse.

“What is in me?” she sobbed out.

Ahaha... haha... hahaha...., was the soft, yet sweet reply. Grudgingly, she lifted her head, crawled toward the puddle, then lowered head towards the blood. Her hair fell into the crimson pool as she forced her face closer. With a sudden jerk backwards she said rather loudly, “No! This is disgusting.” The shaking returned bringing with it the dizziness; she sobbed again.

Yes said the voice in a calm and sweet tone, which suggested a form of compassion, it is disgusting to deny yourself the truth of what you are.

“What am I?” she whispered.

Daughter.... replied the voice softly.

Again she apprehensively willed her face down towards the puddle, then stuck her tongue out and halted. The shaking became worse as she fought with herself in attempt to keep her face from the blood, even though the fragrance was almost unbearable. Sweat beads began appearing on her forehead as she strained to keep her from inching downwards. The dizziness started to bring a swimming feeling to her head. Then she realized that her sniffing had gotten out of control; every breath was a deep nasal intake of the fragrance which helped the dizzy swimming feeling produce sweat beads. 'What are you doing?' she said to herself, 'get away from this mess!' She tried to get to her feet but found that she had become fastened to the spot. Her arms and legs wouldn't respond, she couldn't move her head to the left, right, or even up towards the night sky which was beginning to become dominated by Dazbog. Her eyes widened, and a tear leaked from the left. She tried to retract her tongue, and failed. All the strength within her was quickly sapping away in the fight to reject the voice, and the awesome smelling blood.

Taste the blood... Daughter the voice sounded almost vicious, almost desperate, and without compassion. A feeling of something like hands shrouded her head, very large hands, which took hold of the back of her head and then pushed her face into the puddle. Again she tried to retract her tongue and found that she couldn't; it felt as if two fingers had clamped around it denying its return to her orifice, but instead guided it along the puddle, lapping up a large amount of blood, and then released. The tongue sprung back into her mouth and she unwittingly swallowed the payload with a gulp. The shaking and dizzy swimming sensation stopped, the sweat on her forehead stopped as new warmth appeared deep within her stomach and started to spread through to her muscles. She raised her haed towards the early morning sky and saw a colouring that hadn't been apparent before. The blackness looked more like an army, which consisted of many different types of creatures, not one of them looked the same. Her ears picked up sounds like never before, and as she looked at the black army she could hear screams, and orders being shouted as the army fought desperately to hold back the light. She lowered her head and looked around the alley. Everything looked different. The walls had patches of bright glowing colours shinning through the dirt. The cobblestones looked to be a dark green with an orangey tint lightly sprinkled over top. Everything had a repulsive stink to it, the walls, the shops, the cobblestones, everything except for the blood. She leaned forward, stuck out her tongue, giggled as her hair fell into the puddle first, and took a long deep lick, retracked her tongue, shuddered, and then went back for seconds; then thirds, and fourths. Her mind started to expand and memories from the past invaded. Like the time when she and Bodwin had broken into The Fallen Vagabond and stole two bottles of Doogal's wine. She took another lick while reminiscing with the feeling that had come after she had drunken half a bottle. The feeling of fearlessness, joy, and the passion both she and Bodwin had experienced together for the first time that night. She took another lick, smiled at the close resemblance of being drunk on wine and the euphoric feeling the blood was bringing on.

Learning forward for another lick, she noticed an eerie orangey glow sneak up from behind. Spinning her head around, she saw six figures bunched together and bathed in the light from fire torches.

“Stay right where you are!” growled a deep voice. She turned around to face the group and sat in a crouch with her knees sticking out to the left and right with her hands planted firmly between them on the cobblestones. As the biggest of the bunch took a step forward she opened her mouth and released an alarmingly high pitched cackle, which seemed to be enhanced by the alley walls creating a cacophony of cackles resembling that of ten voices. She jumped to her feet, turned and ran deeper into the alley where she proceeded to become lost in the lingering shadows leaving the cacophony behind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 13.03.2015

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