《Wandering Derelict》


 Quill

    It was snowing heavily outside the old tavern. Through the cracked glass windows, which creaked ever so slightly with every passing gust of wind, the three mercenaries could see they would be stuck in the village for the time being. It wasn''t an inconvenience though, for their target stood merely meters away, occupied with entertaining the old folk who came to hear her stories.


    They called her a famed storyteller; "Asfa of Khargath" was her pen name. But in truth, her name wasn''t "Asfa" but "Osha," and she hailed from "Kerridy," not "Khargath."


    When Captain Veno had announced their assignment, Eujal, the youngest of the group, couldn''t believe it. His first combat assignment would be to slay a highly respected individual. A celebrity. He had to make the best of this opportunity. After all, the Zhardokhan weren''t easy to please. Veno, who had embarked on many missions and succeeded in every one of them, was a mere grunt compared to the other established mercenaries, some of whom ended up taking charge of formidable battalions.


    "She''s pretty, isn''t she?" Harlan whispered, his eyes focused on the palmed tankard in his possession.


    Eujal rolled his eyes, turning to face the red-haired Osha. She stood at the center of a raised platform near the heart of the tavern. She was pretty, to be fair, with rare blue eyes and a curvy build. Her pale hand pressed dramatically against her throat as she imitated a man suffocating to death. Evidently, her story had reached a critical point. The old folks cheered and laughed, a sound that felt like a roar thanks to the tavern''s acoustics. Then, with a dramatic whirl and flurry of hand movements, she displayed an imitation of a man being blown to bits. The audience roared to life once again, louder than before.


    "Ugh, they''re way too loud¡­" Veno groaned, his scarred hand pressed against his expansive forehead. His cheeks held a visible blush. The captain wasn''t known for his ability to handle strong drink.


    Harlan laughed at the sight of the captain, turning to bump his elbow into Eujal''s ribcage. "Look at the sight of him! He''ll be in no stable condition for tonight''s activities. Am I right, boy?"


    "You may be right," Eujal muttered.


    "Cheer up, now! One day you will be old enough to drink. You best wait for that day and cherish it when it comes!" Harlan exclaimed, clasping his hands around his freshly refilled tankard and guzzling the contents in a sordid manner. Then, clarity consumed his face. Eujal''s eyes widened.


    "Since the captain overestimated his strength, we''ll wait until after midnight to strike," Harlan declared, his brown eyes fixed on the storyteller. "It would be foolish to take her on without Veno''s strength."


    "Is she that powerful?" Eujal asked.


    "You bet. She''s one of those sparkers we''ve been told to avoid."


    "What''s her spark?"


    "Words," Harlan grumbled, his fingers rhythmically drumming against the wooden surface of the table. "She speaks and her words just become reality."


    Stolen story; please report.


    The words were unsettling. Eujal looked down at the wooden table and let his eyes trail over the intricate knots. A sparker, huh? He had never seen a sparker in person before. His parents used to tell him stories about sparkers and how they possessed strange powers. He wondered how her powers would work. Would she just say a sentence and his head would pop off? Or would his entire body burst into flames?


    He had a feeling that he wouldn''t like to find out.


    <hr>


    Veno barely recovered from his drunken spell by the time midnight came. The snow was still coming down heavily, seemingly more than before. Eujal struggled to persevere through the frigid winds and the biting sensation of snowflakes whipping against his face. He didn''t know how long they had been marching. All he knew was that the wind was picking up and the cold was becoming unbearable.


    They had finally made it. It was the only house on the outskirts of town. It wasn''t a particularly large building¡ªin fact, quite modest, standing at a mere two stories tall. Made entirely of wood, it had a single chimney protruding from the center.


    "She''s staying here, right?" Harlan asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.


    "Yeah," Veno confirmed, the remark barely audible. He was still suffering from the effects of his binge drinking.


    Eujal gulped nervously. Before they had begun their long walk to this house, Veno had given them a lengthy lecture on all the information they had about Osha. Her spark was based on spoken words. She had to chant a command for her powers to work. There were certain conditions for her power to take effect, such as naming a target and giving it a specific command. However, her commands couldn''t affect living things and were restricted to inanimate objects.


    Veno''s example was, "May that sword crumple like paper." If the command was issued properly, the sword would be crumpled up like a ball of paper. However, if the command was not issued properly, the sword wouldn''t be affected at all.


    These conditions gave them confidence. All they had to do was ambush her and restrain her mouth. Then, they could kill her.


    The plan was to make sure she was asleep or busy doing something else. Harlan and Eujal would enter the building and search for her. Once they found her, they would restrain her. Then, Veno would finish the job.


    The wind began to strengthen. It felt like the snow was slicing through his flesh. His body shook with discomfort. But what annoyed him even more was how much of an inconvenience the weather was to their plan. The strong winds made the door creak and groan. If the door was opened, the roaring winds would be loud enough to let the storyteller know that something had opened the door.


    They had to be quick.


    Veno seemed to know this. His bottom lip remained bit as he rested his hand against the front door. He took a deep breath.


    Then, with a heavy grunt, he slammed his body against the door. The wood splintered and snapped as the door swung open. Harlan and Eujal bolted forward, their weapons drawn.


    The interior was surprisingly spacious, the ceilings higher than expected. A wooden staircase was located to the right, and a hallway stretched beyond the foot of the stairs. A kitchen was located straight ahead, a sitting area to the left where a fireplace burned brightly.


    The woman wasn''t in sight.


    Harlan darted for the staircase, bounding up the steps in an impressive fashion. Eujal followed.


    They had barely reached the second floor when they heard a feminine gasp. Harlan charged ahead, his footsteps thudding against the wooden floorboards.


    Eujal saw the flash of red hair disappearing into a room at the end of the hallway that opened up on the second floor. Harlan was fast to pursue her. Eujal wasn''t far behind.


    But before Harlan could enter the room, a voice rang out.


    "May this quill explode upon impact."


    Something hit Harlan in the forehead. There was a flash of light. The floor beneath him trembled. Wooden shrapnel and debris flew. Eujal was thrown back. He hit the ground, groaning in pain.


    Eujal lifted his head. His ears were ringing, but the sound was slowly beginning to fade. His eyes scanned the room. The wall and ceiling were covered in scorch marks and debris. And there he was, Harlan. Or what was left of him. His upper body had been completely blown off.

 Explosion

    Veno finally showed up, reaching the second floor just in time to see Harlan''s legs and waist flop to the ground in a smoky mess. The smell of burnt wood and charred flesh penetrated the atmosphere with enough strength to make him gag.


    Eujal was on the ground, his eyes wide and watering at the sight before him. His body trembled as he kept inching backwards towards the stairs.


    It was clear to Veno that Eujal was in shock. The poor kid was probably in over his head. Veno had suspected that he had a weak stomach, and the events of tonight had proven his suspicion true.


    His vision blurred slightly and he blinked hard, trying to clear his mind.


    He had to focus. Harlan was dead and Eujal was basically useless. It was up to him to finish the job.


    Footsteps drew his attention.


    Veno looked ahead and his eyes immediately met the sight of the red-haired woman, the target. She was clad in a white nightgown. Her hair was wild, a look of fury in her blue eyes. She stood there, emptyhanded, staring at Veno and Eujal with a piercing, penetrating gaze.


    "Osha the storyteller," Veno began, drawing his blade. "Your time has come. The guild wishes for your head."


    Osha''s lips twisted into a grin, her eyebrows raised. She looked at the corpse of Harlan and the trembling, cowering form of Eujal. Her eyes moved up and down, analyzing Veno and the longsword in his hand.


    "Is that so? I guess I should''ve known this would happen," she muttered. "Working for the Asir does have downsides after¡ª"


    "Enough! Let us begin!" Veno roared, his feet carrying him forward, his sword drawn.


    Eujal watched in horror as the captain closed the distance in an instant. Despite his somewhat drunken state, he had reached where Harlan''s corpse was in less than a second. He was an expert at moving around at incredible speeds.


    "May his boots detonate," the storyteller shouted.


    Veno''s eyes widened and his head turned to his feet.


    There was a loud bang.


    Blood splattered everywhere.


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    Veno''s body flew across the hall, slamming into the wall. He was dead before he hit the ground.


    Eujal watched in horror as the captain''s upper body began to leak its contents onto the wooden floor.


    Osha, her blue eyes still full of life, walked forward, her white nightgown trailing behind her. Eujal felt fear as she approached. It felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest. He scooted away, trying to keep his distance.


    "Now that I''m close... you''re just a kid, aren''t you?" she said, her lips pressed together, a thoughtful look on her face. "Aren''t you a little too young to be a murderer?"


    Eujal didn''t respond. Instead, he turned his gaze to his captain.


    Veno was dead.


    He couldn''t believe it. The Zhardokhan mercenary captain was a well-respected warrior, a veteran who had participated in many battles and had succeeded in every mission he had embarked upon.


    And yet, this woman, this storyteller, had managed to defeat him in seconds.


    "Let''s have a chat... you and I," the woman said, a small smile appearing on her face. "After all, it isn''t often that a mercenary is sent to assassinate me."


    Eujal didn''t respond. Fear filled his body. He wanted to run, but the woman''s eyes were locked on him. If he moved, she would probably kill him.


    Osha''s lips twitched, the smile on her face growing wider. Her eyes were bright, full of life. They were beautiful.


    "I''m a very powerful woman, as you may know. I have a lot of enemies, which is why I''m always traveling. I''ve had many attempts on my life, and each time the assassins are defeated. But never have they been as young as you."


    Osha knelt down, her knees sinking into the pool of blood. Her eyes focused on his face.


    "It''s a shame. You should have focused on a fruitful path instead of joining a... hmm... who is your employer?"


    "Zhardokhan," Eujal said, his voice coming out as a croak.


    "Ha! Those scumbags," Osha hissed. Her teeth were showing. Her expression was angry, but her eyes were still bright. "How old are you? Seventeen? Eighteen?"


    "Seventeen," Eujal replied, his voice cracking.


    "So even they are after the youth," she murmured, shaking her head. She pressed off the ground and grasped an edge of her nightgown. With a loud tear, she ripped a portion of the cloth and began wrapping it over Eujal''s trembling right wrist.


    What is she doing?


    Eujal was frozen, his eyes fixed on the red-haired woman, who was still kneeling over him. She finished wrapping his wrist and tied a knot. Then, she looked into his eyes.


    "I''m sorry."


    "Huh¡ª"


    "May this cloth become like glue."


    The wrapping immediately felt sticky, and a burning sensation seared his wrist. It felt like he was being constricted by a python. He flinched and grabbed at the wrapping, but couldn''t pull it off. It was stuck.


    "May this cloth detonate after an hour."


    Eujal''s eyes widened with horror. Osha met them with a cold smile.


    "There you go. If you''re able to free yourself from this... then you may live. I, on the other hand, must leave very soon. The villagers may find this mess and I don''t want it to stain my reputation. I would like them to believe I am innocent."


    Eujal didn''t respond, his mind racing.


    "What are you doing? Leave!¡±


    Eujal struggled to get his feet underneath him. He was trembling. He needed to get outside. He needed fresh air. He needed to get this off.


    He staggered toward the stairs, the sticky cloth still wrapped tightly around his wrist.


    Osha spoke up once more.


    ¡°And don¡¯t you dare tell anyone about this!¡±

 Panic

    Despair crashed down upon him as he burst out of the house, pumping his legs through the snow as fast as he could. He ran in no purposeful direction, just away from the house, his heart pounding out of his chest.


    She''s dangerous! Way too dangerous! We didn''t even stand a chance!


    The darkness swallowed him completely. Snowflakes revealed themselves only by touch as they brushed against his skin. Overcast clouds had blocked the moon and stars, choking out any form of light that might guide his steps.


    He remembered what the storyteller had said. He only had under an hour to separate himself from the cloth. Yes... the cloth.


    With shivering fingers, he unsheathed his blade once more, this time with clear intent to cut. He couldn''t see his own hand in the darkness, and the wind did him no favors as it seemed to change directions randomly. He couldn''t keep his eyes open lest they be battered by snow.


    But he knew where the cloth was, he could feel it. It was wrapped tightly around his right wrist, concealing all joints and bone. So tightly wrapped that he felt his fingers going numb.


    Deep breaths. He took several of them, calming himself as he stood in the middle of the storm. Then, he laid the sharp edge of the blade against the cloth before trying to wedge the sharpness between his skin and the fabric.


    However, each time he tried slipping the blade under the cloth, it would just glide over it. There wasn''t a gap to shove the blade in, not that he could see.


    "Damn it!" He yelled as he continued his efforts, but to no avail.


    Is this the end? He thought to himself as he gasped for air, cold particles slamming against the back of his throat. I can''t die like this! There must be a way!


    That way, that path he desperately searched for, seemed much too risky. Because the cloth seemed affixed to his skin in a manner that prevented him from prying it off... he would have to slash at it. And risk slashing his wrist in the process.


    But maybe there was another way... the house was close to the village after all. Maybe he could head back there and get someone to help him. Yes... I still have time. I can''t do something so foolish.


    He tried retracing his steps, but couldn''t find his footprints. The snow had already concealed them. His body grew colder. He ran in the opposite direction from which he came but found himself staring at the snow-covered bark of a Kisher Oak.


    He maneuvered around it and found another oak, and another, and another.


    He cursed under his breath. This was the forest bordering the village! He turned back and ran but found himself running into tree after tree.


    I''m delirious.


    His inability to direct himself towards the village forced him to make a decision. He would have to save himself. The risky way.


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    He placed the sharpness against the cloth and inhaled... and then exhaled. One. Two. Three.


    A sharp, burning pain erupted from his wrist as he drew the blade back. He gasped. I slashed too deep!


    Despite being unable to see the damage, he could feel the warm trickle of blood from his wrist. At this rate, he would be a dead man if he didn''t find his way back to the village. In his foolishness, he had slashed his own wrist!


    He began to run, hoping to find himself in the village. The outlines of the trees brushed past his field of vision as he jumped through the snow. His knees repeatedly met the upper layer of snow as he moved through it.


    His vision had grown accustomed to the darkness. He could see more clearly now. In the distance, there weren''t any more trees! He moved quicker, faster, more desperately. But then, he felt nothing beneath his feet. Wind rushed past his ears and the darkness seemed to grow blacker. Then, something slammed into his chest, sending waves of pain through his body. It was followed by several other impacts, rolling him around, twisting him, jolting him. Then, a soft landing.


    <hr>


    "This storm won''t let up, eh?" A dark-skinned man wearing a wide-brimmed hat stared ahead, his torch revealing nothing but snow ravaging the wilderness with its endless whiteness.


    "If you worry about it, it will become a problem, Caladeus." A hooded figure responded, his cloak shaking furiously in the wind. "Let''s keep moving. We have no time to waste."


    "You''re right about that, captain. I don''t think I''d be able to survive in this weather." Caladeus responded, brushing the frozen mucus from his mustache. "Back in Jaka, I never had to deal with this frightful cold. In fact, this level of cold could only be felt in nightmares!"


    The hooded figure turned to face him, dark pink eyes shimmering ominously in the darkness. "You done?"


    "Yes..."


    "Alright."


    The two continued to navigate the wilderness, their steps lengthy and purposeful. The torch burned defiantly despite the snow and wind, thanks to Caladeus'' spark. The man was a phoenix, able to burn away injuries of any who graced his flames. But as with all gifts, there were drawbacks. His power activated only when he drew blood, forcing him to constantly wound himself to produce flames. The pain wasn''t an issue anymore¡ªhe had grown accustomed to it, conquered it in his own way¡ªbut the energy required to ignite exhausted him greatly.


    A simple torch like this, though, wasn''t much of a problem. He fed the flames a few droplets of his blood and it roared back to full force.


    He sighed. At least I have some heat to warm my bones. This storm is relentless.


    Lost in thought, Caladeus failed to notice the captain had stopped walking. He collided with the taller man''s back, the unexpected halt jarring him from his reverie.


    "Captain?" Caladeus mumbled, startled. The captain stood motionless, hooded head cocked slightly to one side.


    Caladeus peered around the captain''s frame. And there it was¡ªa mangled mess of a body. Blood stained the surrounding snow, transforming pristine white into a dark, dismal crimson. He let out a startled gasp as he rushed forward, instinctively prepared to heal.


    The captain knelt and brushed snow from the body. It was a male, quite young, with a feminine face and slender frame. His torso appeared caved in. The captain''s eyes traced up the cliff face that loomed just meters behind the body.


    "He must have fallen off... quickly, heal him¡ª"


    "No. This is a suicide," Caladeus interrupted. "Look at his wrist."


    "What?" The captain''s eyes narrowed as they focused on the bloodied wrist, where most of the blood seemed to originate. A blood-soaked cloth was wrapped tightly around it.


    "I''ll still heal him... he isn''t dead yet... somehow," Caladeus muttered as he sliced his palm open. Flames crackled to life, and he pressed them directly against the bloodied wrist. The flames roared angrily as they contacted the foreign blood. The captain watched intently as Caladeus worked his spark until the wrist was unblemished. The cloth, however, remained in patches, stuck to the skin in an unnatural manner.


    How odd, the captain thought. Wait... is that¡ª


    Caladeus had just turned his attention to the boy''s shattered torso when the captain suddenly yanked him away.


    "What the¡ª"


    A brilliant flash of light erupted from the remnants of the cloth, followed by a violent burst of heat that slammed into Caladeus with full force.