The Mann, The Myth, The Legend

Chapter 8: 8. Voices


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“I’m telling you; I saw smoke somewhere around here!”

Here? In the middle of the damn woods? You’re ridiculous.”

“Why won’t you just believe me?! I know what I saw!”

“Because it’s stupid! Why would anyone be out here this late? Sayavila is a week long journey in the other direction and it’s the closest town for miles!”

Euric scowled, crossing his arms over his large, burly chest.

“Yeah, but we’re out here this late!” He objected. His companion, Arika, groaned in response, slapping her forehead in exasperation.

"We're the exception, dumbass!" She retorted, leaning over to smack the bigger man upside the back of his head. "We're on a time crunch, here. The sooner we get back to Sayavila, the better. So we can't waste time resting every night."

Arika held an arm out to the side, stopping Euric in his tracks as they came across a rather thick clump of hanging foliage. She reached down to her side, unsheathing a dangerously sharp shortsword which she promptly used to cut a path through the brush into a small clearing.

"We've gotta get the merch back to Tevin so that we get paid, but you know how he is." She stated, looking around the clearing analytically as she sheathed her sword. "If we take too long, he'll take a bigger cut of the payout at the end of the day."

Euric scratched his chin in thought, standing back as Arika walked around the clearing, looking beneath bushes and swiping away at the grass as if she was looking for something. Euric huffed, then shook his head as he wandered over and put his back against a tree and crossed his arms.

“But if someone is alive out here, we might be able to use them!” He exclaimed, slamming his fist into his palm. Arika looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. When she didn’t say anything, though, he continued: “Think about it; if they got away, they’re probably injured, right? So, we can take their stuff and sell it to Tevin with the rest of the junk we found and they won’t be able to fight back!”

Arika squinted in his direction, turning toward him as he continued with his ‘grand plan’.

“And I know you don’t like dealing with them, but then we can take them to Mallory and her men and sell the survivor, too!” He grinned happily, spreading his arms out wide. “It’s a win-win! Even if Tevin takes a bigger cut, we’ll still be able to cash out with Mallory!”

His companion huffed incredulously, shaking her head in either disappointment or contempt as she put her hands on her hips. Arika opened her mouth to respond when a dark shadow fell from the tree above Euric, dropping him to the ground with a surprised yelp.

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Before Arika even had the chance to pull her sword free, she heard a masculine voice speak up.

“Don’t. I’ve got a blade to your friend’s neck.” He called out, and Arika froze with her hand hovering over the sword’s handle. “If you move an inch, I’ll slit his throat and be on you before that sword leaves its sheath. Don’t test me.”

She squinted into the darkness, trying to make out the form of the person who’d taken Euric down. It was dark, however, and all she could make out was a head of wavy white hair and what looked like glowing pink eyes from beneath its tresses, whose gaze seemed to bore a hole straight through her forehead.

For some reason, it sent a chill up her spine. Her fingers trembled as, after a brief moment, she put her hands up, a grimace on her face.

“F-Fine. Just...just don’t hurt him.” She defended, finally averting her gaze. She couldn’t handle the way his eyes drilled through her. All was quiet for a moment before Euric’s assailant audibly sighed.

“I won’t. I don’t want to hurt either of you.” He said quietly, and Arika furrowed her brow in thought. He sounded...young. Really young. Her head snapped back to face him as he stood up and stepped off of Euric’s back, moonlight peeking through the canopy above as he took a step closer to her.

Arika couldn’t believe her eyes. He was barely half a foot shorter than her, and nearly a full foot shorter than Euric, who was still laid out on the ground behind him. Despite his stark white hair, it was clear that he wasn’t old enough for that to be from age, and the previous pink glow from his eyes had faded, to a soft, natural brown. The ‘blade’ in his hand was a simple kitchen knife, yet he held it with a confidence that Arika only ever saw in men who had hurt or killed before. A confidence that she herself lacked.

But Arika didn’t care about any of that. She was still stuck on the fact that he was just a kid.

 

►⚉◄

 

[???] - Urchin Lv. 4

[You are superior to this person in all stats.]

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