Two Rocks is a beautiful town, despite its remote nature. The streets on the fairer side of town are all paved with large flagstones filled between with concrete. Every so often, a street lamp will rise above the walkway waiting to share its soft firelight with the world. When the sky roils with orange flame, a lamplighter paces the length of each street and sets aglow the heart of every street lamp. They pour their light like water from a ewer, filling darkness with their blessing. Consecrating the air thus banishing darkness and doubt of what lurks in the murkiest corners of town.
The town is cradled between calm ocean and dense forest. And on Canary St. The sounds of both collide in a wash of soft reverberation. Cricket chirps carry their song to the sea. And so too does the sea whisper back to the forest. They carry this conversation as two dear friends carry on for hours, saying everything and yet communicating nothing. In day-time the bustle of civilization drowns out this conversation but when the town sleeps, the parted friends whisper again.
The smell of ocean salt is carried on the wind, even this far from the docks. Cold air doesn't carry scent as well as the warm breezes of home but it is still worthy of smelling. Here the smell is sharp and crisp, breaking against the senses like knives on flesh.
And all of this beauty, all of this quiet majesty still pales in comparison to Two Rocks' sky. I was born to worship the world's cradle and I have never seen her in such splendor. As the sun crosses her voluminous skin, it strips her of her plain, day-time attire. Pools of orange and purple chiffon emerge from behind her pale blue accoutrement. She sheds the mundanity of day, shedding with it the constraints the sun places upon her beauty. She emerges from the sun's splendor, bedecked in a rolling, swirling ocean of glittering chiffon. Her motions are perfectly deliberate, guiding every fold of glistening fabric this way and that. And in her motion she tells the story of the world. A shrug of her shoulder and a war is decided in favor of the aggressors. A cross of her legs and a fisherman will land the biggest catch of his life. And here in Two Rocks her adornments are pouring over with magical auras. Past the deep blue, nearly black color of her dress, one can detect waves of purple washing over her, accentuating every curve and bend of her body as they pass.
And fortunate is the man who she allows to make sweet communion with her. Her eyes are arresting when they turn upon you. They blaze like white hot fire, melting away any sense of the world beyond her visage. And in her kiss she whispers enraptured truth, filling your mouth with sweet light, guiding your tongue with hers to drink deeply of her secrets. And as you drink of her she veils your eyes in her twinkling chiffon. You lose sight of her motion and see only what she intends to show you. The stars lovingly entangled in the weave of her skirts crawl across your vision. And if you have the knowledge to see her wisdom, you can pluck from her knowledge of what shall be.
All my life I have courted her, grasping at her breast for answers to tomorrow. Even through years of youth, school, basic training and enlistment I have always made time to worship at her altar and always she delights to share sweet kisses with me. And even here in Two Rocks I must seek communion.
Night has fallen and the sky beckons me to her. It was not possible to properly appreciate her while on the road but now we two are together once more. I pace out behind the old precinct, looking for an adequate path to the roof. I am taken aback when I find a rickety old ladder already leaned up against the building. With curiosity, I climb. When I pull myself up to the mildly gabled roof, the little mystery is solved.
Sidhion has posted himself here. He is bent on one knee, head bowed reverentially. His forehead rests on his tented fingers. His palms are pressed together, clasping a single stick of burning incense. The smoke coils around his hands, trailing heavy, herbaceous perfume in its wake, before rising up into the sky.
"I didn't know you were so religious."
Sidhion starts then looks at me. "Oh! I didn't hear you come up. Do you need something?"
I lift my work satchel onto the roof with a grunt. "I just had some work to do."
Sidhion gives me a sidelong glance, “Work? There’s nothing to be done until we hear from the guard about alibis and the gun.”
“Call it a personal project, then.”
He gives me a knowing grin now. “If you also intend to pray to The Silver Face, I can lead us.”
“Come on! I’m not some religious nut. I told you I read the stars. None of this prayer nonsense.”
“The stars are the Moon’s handmaidens,” he laughs. “If you study them, you inherently study Her. There is no shame in Her admiration.”
“Don’t rope the stars into your nonsense. They didn’t do anything to you.” I sit beside Sidhion and pull out my star charts, laying them out around me.
Sidhion scoffs, “Whatever you need to tell yourself, Owen. I was about done anyway.” He relaxes into a normal seated position and leans over my shoulder.
His view is met with dense, dry records of the positions of particular stars, how far they’ve moved since last being recorded, and other esoteric particulars. He watches me for a while as I pull out telescopes, mini-heliometers, and abacuses. His eyes observe my pencil glide across paper, plugging in numbers to mathematical formulae and recording the results. After a time I grow weary of his eyes. “As you can see, this is nothing like your worship.”
“Perhaps it is of another kind. But I see the rejoice in your eyes when you look through your instruments.” Sidhion gives me a sly grin.
I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, “No such thing! This is hard science.”
“We all worship in our own ways.”
“I don’t worship anyone or anything!” Now I look down, abashed at my loose tongue, “Call it reverence if you call it anything. The sky is just so beautiful.”
Sidhion puts an arm over my shoulder and reaches into a pocket. “Don’t fret about it, son. I get it. You’re still pretty young, right?”
“Um, yeah.. I haven’t been out of training for very long and this is my first unsupervised assignment.”
Sidhion nods sagely and pulls out a flask, a simple brushed metal thing stamped with the insignia of the Church of Silver. He leans his head back and takes a drink. I watch his long, shining hair brush the small of his back when he leans backward. His adam’s apple bobs with each slow gulp. When he raises his head again, Sidhion notices me studying him. His lips don’t change from their typical frown but something in his eyes betrays his pensive feelings. He proffers the flask to me.
“I thought you didn’t drink since you declined at Kellerman’s.”
“You would accept a drink from a murder suspect?”
“Point taken.” I take the flask from Sidhion and sniff at its contents. The liquid has a strong odor, as all spirits do. But behind the bitter scent I detect notes of chestnuts and smoke. I take a testing sip and the bitter liquid burns my throat. But the mild flavor of chestnuts balances out the fire. I take another sip, this time deeper, savoring the drink.
“You like it? Smoked whiskey, specialty of my hometown. I’ll miss it when it runs out.”
“Careful about sharing it, then. You’ll run out faster, especially if you let me at it.” I pass the flask back to Sidhion who takes it, gladly.
“What’s the point of hoarding it like a dragon? Better to share it with friends new and old.” After taking a generous swig, he passes the flask back.
“Sidhion, I don’t get you. But far be it from me to begrudge you your generosity.” I knock my head back and finish the flask.
And into the night, Sidhion and I drink and laugh merrily. We share our favorite constellations and celestial bodies. We exchange quips and criticisms. Basking in the beauty above us, all of our troubles melt away in Her fire. Up on the roof, nothing is real save for the sky, Sidhion and me. And before we retire back to reality, we promise to carry out our celestial work together from now on.
The air is filled with the loud crackle and pop of hot oil dancing in a frying pan. The smells of fresh bacon and pancakes waft through the room. Sidhion is humming to himself as he attends to the little cookstove in front of him. I watch as the pink strings on his apron swing side-to-side while he works. I cannot quite put my finger on why my eyes linger here.
Walter pokes my elbow. “Eyes on your own paper, lad,” he grins and sets a playing card down between us.
I turn my attention back to my hand, inspecting my options. My concentration is shattered by a gentle rapping coming from downstairs. “Someone at the door?” I don’t move to stand.
Walter seems to sense my command and sets his cards face-down on the table. He gets to his feet with a dramatic groan and winks at me, “I’ll be right back, little buddy. No Peeking.”
I give Walter a look of shock and offense as he turns to answer the door. I at least wait until I hear his footfalls disappear down the stairs before reaching across the table. My hand is met with a hard rap from a spoon.
You are reading story Fresh Cut Rose at novel35.com
Sidhion clicks his tongue before setting a decadent plate in front of me. “Where is your sense of honor?”
I rub the red spot forming on my knuckle. “Maybe I’ll find it in a pancake.”
“Have extras then.” Sidhion rolls his eyes at me.
Our exchange is interrupted by two sets of footfalls. First Walter walks into the room; he is leading a woman to the table. She’s tall, burly and blond. Her long, golden hair is pulled into a messy bun, exposing her pointed ears. Her broad shoulders are in general proportion with her barrel chest and straight figure. Her eyes are a pale green and warble with moisture each time she takes a step.
“Gentlemen, this is Elaine Mayes, the victim's girlfriend. She looked us up to give her statement.”
“Oh, that’s convenient. Was wondering if we’d ever get to use that interrogation room.”
Elaine’s eyes go wide. They glisten with the effort of holding back tears.
“Now there’s no need for that.” Walter pulls out the chair he was sitting in earlier and gestures to Elaine who takes it. He moves to stand behind me, leaning on the back of my seat. I can feel his warm breath on the back of my neck.
“Would you like a plate?” Sidhion is already loading a plate with food.
“I don’t think I can stomach anything right now..” Elaine’s voice quavers. She looks down at the cards laid out before her.
“Nonsense. A full belly is the first step to healing. Please, eat.”
Elaine cracks the smallest of smiles when Sidhion slides a plate in front of her. She gingerly lifts a slice of bacon and chews on it.
Walter snatches a slice of bacon off my plate. “Now, Miss Mayes, I know it’s going to be hard for you but we need to know every detail you have about what happened with Panril.”
Elaine sniffs. “Okay. I came here because I think you have to hear what I have to say. I lost two friends this year and now the love of my life.. And no one has done a single thing about it. You guys are my last hope that Panril will see some justice.”
“Tell us about him. We have nothing but time here.” Walter pinches the back of my arm before I can say anything.
“Panril and I were together for two years. I work as a hunter for the Alkane family. And we met and got close when I was making deliveries to Kellerman’s. He was such a jokester. Always had a funny quip to say, always did little things just to make me laugh. I fell in love with the little smile he pulled whenever he told a really bad joke. I loved that no matter how sour someone's mood, he'd always try to cheer them up. It's like he couldn't stand to see someone sad.
And he had an adventurer's heart. He was always telling me we would leave this town one day and make our way as gallant explorers, righting wrongs and saving lives and never staying in one place for long. It was his dream to become an explorer. But now he's gone." Tears stream down Elaine's face, pooling at her chin before dropping onto the cards beneath her.
"Do you have any idea who could have done this? Or why?" Walter's voice is strong but I detect the merest hint of a quaver.
"No. Well.. Sort of. Let me start further back. And please listen to my whole story first. Panril and I took our explorer dream seriously. We would go out on little dates in Nguyen Woods to train him up and to try to find.. Well anything worth exploring. The night before he was killed was one of those dates. We were just looking around and I got distracted by a deer and Panril wandered off. If only I hadn't gotten distracted.." Elaine buries her face in her hands and begins to sob.
Walter leaves me and drops to one knee beside Elaine. He is still tall enough to meet her eye-level. He rests a hand on her shoulder and runs it across her back. "There, there, let it all out."
I look back at Sidhion while Elaine cries. His eyes are fixed on her, watching her shoulders shake and eyes water. His lips are fixed into their a tight frown. It is difficult to tell what Sidhion is thinking. But it sure is tough to take him seriously in that frilly little apron.
Walter whispers something in Elaine's ear. Whatever he said breaks her tears momentarily. She even manages a specter of a giggle. "You know, you remind me so much of him. The way you carry on."
"Now that's one of the nicest things anyone has said about me." Walter is beaming.
Elaine brushes the tears from her cheek and blows her nose in one of Walter's handkerchiefs. "I think I can finish the story now."
"Please do." I boredly lean an elbow on the table.
"We got separated in the woods. I swear I looked for him for an hour with no luck. I had no choice but to leave him there and hope he found his way home. Right at the crack of dawn he comes banging at my door. He looks terrible. Leaves in his hair and dirt on his knees and rips in his coat. Looked like he hadn't slept either. And for all that he was still worried that I got home safe.
Panril saw something in the woods that night. I don't know what but it was something. He was so frantic. Wouldn't tell me what he saw. Just said that something was after him and it came from the woods. He made me promise to stay locked in my house for the rest of the day. Not even to come into work. But nobody came by."
"So he saw something in the woods one night and the next it killed him?"
"I guess so. I have no clue at all what he could have seen that would do.. That."
"Did he give you any clue at all what he might have seen?"
"Not really. He hugged me, told me he saw something horrible. Said that it was still after him and we needed to leave town as soon as possible. Told me not to go back to work. Then he said he was going to buy a gun."
Now I sit straight up. All this prattling to finally get to real, useful facts. "What kind of gun? Did he actually get it? Did he use it?"
"I have no clue. When I saw him last, I begged him not to waste all his money on that. But he was so paranoid.. So afraid of whatever was after him." Another tear runs down Elaine's cheek. "He promised to buy an engagement ring with that money."
Elaine breaks down again as she grapples with her lost future. Walter, attentive as always, pulls Elaine close and lets her sob into his shoulder. His face is twisted in some manner of shared mourning. The pair of them remain locked in a sorrowful embrace for a long time. Sidhion nudges my shoulder, "Come on. Let's give them some privacy."
This is just the excuse I need to escape these high emotions. I closely tail Sidhion as he tromps down the stairs and out the front door.
"Where are we going?"
"Just for a walk. To give them privacy."
"Seemed pretty private just leaving them in the kitchen."
Sidhion breathes a deep, heavy sigh, "I'll explain when you're older."
You can find story with these keywords: Fresh Cut Rose, Read Fresh Cut Rose, Fresh Cut Rose novel, Fresh Cut Rose book, Fresh Cut Rose story, Fresh Cut Rose full, Fresh Cut Rose Latest Chapter