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Something tugs at the edge of his mind... whispering in ancient tongues... he shakes his head, refocusing on the task at hand.
He looks down at the glowing hot bar of steel before him, then begins to pound it into shape with a thick mallet like he has done many times before. He had been a swordsmith during the war when business was good. Too bad the war had ended so soon... He thinks to himself. I could've been well off like the heads of the great samurai clans if they hadn't... eh well I guess it's a good thing the war did end though... considering all the lives lost... He trails off, scrunching his face up at the thought that he had considered making money over the lives of those who'd gone to war for a moment.
The block of steel he had been working on seems to be about the right shape now. He grabs a pair of sturdy metal tongs, using them to transfer the steel to a trough filled with oil nearby. Wiping the sweat from his brow, the young man can finally relax as the blade cools. Footsteps approach as he sits down in a rickety wooden chair. He appears lost in thought when a voice calls out to him.
"...sir? Excuse me sir? Hellooooo?" A female voice speaks.
"Oh? Oh hello! Sorry, what do you need miss?" The young smithy acknowledges the lady with emerald eyes and long red curly hair. She appears somewhat upset with him, pouting.
"I require one of your best blades. I will pay a fair amount." She replies, glancing around the smithy's workshop as it is open air with a few blades on display racks at the front.
"Might I ask what a fair lady such as yourself wants a blade for?" He huffs, standing up to look between the different blades on display.
"That is none of your business, sir." She snaps but then looks away sheepishly.
"Whatever... just trying to make small talk... How about this one?" He takes a blade off the rack, giving it a practice swing, then holds it out to the lady.
"Oh this is a fine blade indeed! I'll take it!" She replies, quickly pulling out a coin pouch and handing it directly to the young man. He seems surprised by the heft of the small pouch, raising an eyebrow. The lady raises a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. He quietly hands her the blade, going back to his rickety chair while the lady hurries off into the bustle of the nearby market. Huh... that was strange... He thinks to himself. Well no matter. This should pay rent for the month to continue running my smithy...
He gingerly opens the pouch he received from the lady, light from his forge catching on the gold coins and gemstones within. His eyes widen, quickly closing the pouch. I think that's my cue to close for the day. He shuffles around his workshop, hastily tidying up and placing his newest project on a rack to cool properly overnight.
He throws his hooded leather trench coat on, pulling the hood up as the first drops of rain begin to fall. The people milling about start to shuffle away as the rain starts to pick up. The streets on his way home are nearly empty, his footsteps on the wet cobbles and the sound of the rain beating on his hood being his only company. He steps up to a shabby wooden door with a large metal keyhole and simple doorknob, fumbling for his keys for a moment. Once his cold hands got a firm grip on the key he needs, he thrust the key into the hole, turning it. Going inside the brick building, he shuts the door behind him quickly, locking it again.
He stomps up to the round table in the middle of the room, lighting a candle and dumping the contents of the pouch he had received earlier out. There appears to be a note folded up neatly with the assortment of gems and gold coins. He picks it up, unfolding it to reveal a cryptic message: We know. His eyes widen in shock as he tosses the note back onto the table, slumping into a chair nearby while keeping his eyes on that ominous note. We know. What could they know though? Why does this feel so... This must be a sick joke.
The feeling of eyes watching him from behind send a chill up his spine. He glances behind him, but only finds the empty dark corner of his dining room and entryway. A small cold breeze brushes past his face, causing him to recoil, lose balance, and topple the chair he was sitting atop over.
"Th-this isn't funny! What do you want foul spirit?!" He cowers next to the wall, having dragged himself over. The candle he had lit flickers, but otherwise there is no response.
"Oh come on! I know you are there toying with me. Just go away already!" He yells in the direction of the candle, the flame grows larger for a moment.
"No." A voice whispers. "I cannot simply leave you to your own devices when our fates are intertwined... but you already knew that didn't you?" The voice, a raspy hissing feminine voice.
"Th-then what brings you here, now of all times?" His eyes lock with something behind the flame of the candle.
"Your life... and subsequently my life is in danger. I have come to help you out of your unfortunate predicament." Two fiery orange orbs stare at the young man from behind the flame, the entity itself staying in the shadows.
"Help me? HELP ME?! HA! The last time you helped me, I almost went to prison for life! I will never accept help from you AGAIN!" He snaps at the shadowy thing.
"Funny that you think you have a choice... then again, perhaps I was too violent last time...? Humor me though, how do you think you will get out of this without my help, hmm?" It speaks in an almost mocking tone.
"I-I'll run! And I'll keep running, if that's what it takes to stay alive!"
"And how has that worked for you so far? Considering they keep finding you."
"I just have to find someplace they can't find me..." He looks away, biting his thumbnail. The shadow moves across the room, diverting the candle light from where it stands a few feet from the young man.
"Or we could just end their little organization? It'd be so much easier than all this... running and hiding."
"No! We c-can't draw more attention to-to you being here..." He startles at the sight of the shadow thing being right next to him, crawling away a few more feet, but knowing it's useless. The shadow bends down to eye level with him.
"Boy, you are a stubborn one aren't you? Well if your life is threatened I will have to intervene again. I will NOT be holding back for your sake as it is for mine that I must go on existing." The shade cocks it's head to one side. "One day you will have to stop running. I look forward to that day... but for now, you must leave as soon as possible if you wish to keep living... Anyways you've been fairly warned. I will be watching you." It winks once, then blinks itself out of existence in the room.
The young man covers his face, letting tears quietly stream down his cheeks for a few moments before pulling himself together. "I never asked for any of this..." He mumbles out loud to himself as he prepares a backpack with what's left of his belongings. This is not the first time the organization had found him and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He packs a few changes of clothes, some rations he had stashed away, and a sword sheathed in deep maroon fabric.
 Kiina Silverfang · Thu Aug 24, 2023 @ 04:41am · 0 Comments |
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