Chapter 11: Chapter 2 MEMORIES – PART 5

—Glum—

The moment he set foot in the little town that was his first impression. But the morning was different. Too cheerful it seemed considering what happened yesterday.

Even if you exempted that it’s not weird to see people that happy and all, but the atmosphere around that excitement didn’t seem natural.

Might as well see if anyone would talk. It’s starting to feel pointless going slow at it.

On the guise of buying a knife he came in to try to get the little he could. Well, he needed the knife anyway. He was never a fan of using weapons, but his hands and the occasional drops of weapon when handing the people that come at him. But who knows, having on on hand could come in handy, he thought.

The smith set his hammer, head first, down leaning its shaft beside the rectangular slab of stone which the anvil sat and walked towards the hunter cleaning his hands on his dirt smudged apron.

Years in this line of work gave the large old Dwarf a well toned body. He had a thick chestnut beard and tied a bandana along his hairline to hold his braids back.

“…A knife” The young hunter looked his way.

“Pre-made or Custom? Care to browse through the inventory to see what you like?”

“… Custom"

The order was placed:

A knife: a one edge ten inch blade, sleek and a perfect hilt fit to his hand and durable.

“Great!!”

The smith nodded and left for the door which was to the left of the tool shelf which decorated the wall. A storeroom.

…

“… How long?”

The smith returned a while later with a black ore, and a mold. Grabbed the tongs from the wall and took his seat before the forge and set to work.

“Might take a while. A few of hours, if rushed. Why don’t you grab a seat if you plan on waiting?”

The smith said as he prepped the forge.

“… I’ll stand.”

With a chisel and a mallet he started chipping down the ore with great effort.

“What brings you to this here town of ours? Never seen you around here before. Heard about some young hunter around but didn’t think it was a kid.”

“……”

The young hunter had no time for idle chatter…

“You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

He was leaning to then wall beside the shelf his arms folded to his chest quietly staring out the door.

Such a young hunter. Thought the smith. Probably new to the line of work. He may have the look but getting to his first job he’d be surely killed. What a waste.

…

… Soon after the whole place became into a oven…

The Dwarf was before the furnace man drenched in sweat, his leg constantly pressing down on the bellow raising the heat from the magic stones even higher…

Under the intense heat, the ore, now an orange, red and yellow molten liquid bubbling.

“… What a drag…” Whispered the young hunter to himself.

“Something wrong kid?”

Kid? Who is he calling a kid? I’m two centuries older than him.

Using the tongs the smith picked up the bowl of molten iron and poured it into a mold…

…

The molten metal hardened after letting it rest a while. Turning over the mould he released it from its hold. He grabbed the hot slightly out of shape metal with the tong and took it to the anvil. The sounds of hammer pounding on the blade filled the room… now and then leaving it in the fire to keep it still hot…

A while later the sounds of hammering halted and the smith still holding the hot blade with the tong he turned to the side to the water container sitting close by—

“What’s the wrong with this town?”

—Shiii. The blade sizzled the moment it touched the water.

“Huh? What ever do you mean?”

“… Quit that ‘oblivious looking’ old man you and I know something’s not right here…!” It pointless just standing here listening with every sense of mine tells me he won’t say a thing. This makes me feel like I’m giving up without trying. “… Never mind... Who’s in charge of this place?”

He pulled out the blade staring it down; the silver colour starting to change as reacting to the very air itself; its color begun to fade turning black.

“… Hmm, got a name kid?”

“… No.”

“You a hunter, are you not…? Look kid best to not go looking into things… And to answer your question we don’t know, no one has ever seen them“

Just like Allora the smith seemingly had no clue but there was a smell of fear on him. His heart raced that the hunter lost track of its beat.

It was freaky and a bit amusing; they lived in a town they didn’t know anything about.

He stood in silence as the Smith continued his work. The smith fixed the hilt and sharpened the blade to smooth finish.

○●○

“All done…”

He slides the knife into a small scabbard before handing it to him.

“… How much?”

Suddenly a grin appeared on his face.

“Two hundred gold”

The hunter’s head tilted to the side just a little, a bit caught off, but his face showed not a hint of that expression.

It was downright robbery… A total amount of two hundred thousand silver coins. Who in their right mind would buy something overpriced as a simple blade?

He felt he was being ripped off.

“… Expensive.”

“Well, when creating such a high quality weapon the charge goes up. I guarantee you it’s a high quality blade.”

High quality weapon? It’s just a normal blade.

He looked down at the weapon and slowly pulled it half way out its sheath to examine before pushing it back in.

… It was like he was ready, he reached into his jacket and took out a pouch which had just the same amount in it and handed it to him.

“Pleasure doing business with you”

He turned, leaving…

“Another one… If only you knew, then you wouldn’t have come here…” He whispered.

Hearing those faint words made him make a quarter turn looking at the smith who had the look of fear in his eyes. “How would help ever come for us…?” he continued.

Wait, did he hear me? The smith thought to himself. If only…

The look in his eyes showed he was genuinely terrified.

“….”.

The smith’s mood just snapped back to normal.

“I’m sorry, is there anything else you’d like me to do for you?”

“… No.”

He didn’t think I’d hear that.

He stepped out shutting the door.

Back on the street:

Magic makes things much easier it seems. Those magic stones… Convenient.

Anyway, where to put this?

I can’t have it in my hand... If only I had a holster.

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His eyes skimmed around; shop owners were sweeping the sand away from their store fronts, others the street and some were cleaning the dirt of items that were out. The place is already dried up as if it never rained. Some patrons were out checking the goods and others walking about.

Then he saw it ‘A scavenger hut’, a shop ahead to his left. A shop which sold rare objects and items.

Maybe they would have something he could use.

The shop was full of “rare finds”. Objects he was familiar with and ones they only heard in rumors.

“See anything you like?”

The man, a Warlock, had warts over his face and skin and a humped back.

Unsightly.

He ignored the man with a glare even through his expressionless face and continued looking.

In the back behind the shopkeep he saw what he was looking for, a bit old but still strong. It was black, had two straps: top was big and bottom was little and two button clamps.

He pointed at the holster on the third shelf.

“… That…”

The man turned to see what it was, reached out and grabbed the item on the shelf.

“This junk?”

The Hunter saw the look in his eyes, and the smell. Greed and deceit. That look was like an open book, he was ready to con him.

Oh, so young… The warlock thought.

“Five hundred silver coins”

“… Five. No more no less…”

“I’m sorry but it’s a hard find. It doesn’t come cheap”

He was already sick of the townsfolk and their cons. First the inn and the smith, now him. What seemed to be rage—if only he felt such a thing—was taking hold of him.

Money wasn’t his problem but it was easy to see through their souls. Greed had taken over and it stained even the innocent.

“It does… And if you don’t want to lose any part of you I suggest you take the offer.”

Holsters where indeed out there, but just because this was of the old days—an antiquity—well kept didn’t mean he could try to fleece whatever her could out of him.

“That a threat?”

“…Yes…”

Even though there wasn’t any change in his expression, the already intimidating look the young hunter wore on his face intensified making the man go pale and break into cold sweat. The Hunter could smell even more fear over him.

“D-deal”

I guess this is what haggling is.

He reached into his Jacket’s outer pocket and drew five silver coins and tossed it towards the man. The man caught it before it had the chance of falling to the ground.

The shopkeep quickly handed him the holster...

A perfect fit and it held the blade firm. The big strap was around his waist and the little one to his right thigh.

Might as well try squeezing something out of him. Looks like he’s been around here a while.

“I’m going to ask you a question and you don’t want to lie to me… Where do I find whoever’s running this place?”

I got to say the smith did confirm my guess. But I still got to know who I’m dealing with. What’s their motive?

“Sorry, but I can’t help you.” He quaked.

“Wrong!”

His hands dashed across the counter and grabbed him by the collar of his thick brown robe and lifted him off his feet.

He’s heavier than I anticipated.

The hunter thought to himself before speedily grabbing the knife out of the scabbard and pressing the blade tight to the Warlocks neck.

“You don’t want to see me mad. I suggest you speak.”

He took a deep whiff at him, unconsciously.

“He’s starting to look real delicious, let’s have him.”

He could hear the voice and his hunger calling to him.

“I swear! I swear! I don’t know!” He hastily said.

He couldn’t tell if the warlock was lying or not; his steady heartbeat and not even a trail of that scent to tell him so except for the fear that was already gushing out of him. If he was lying then he was good at it.

“You lie. Why so?”

“I swear! I swear! That’s because nobody speaks about him.”

He let go of the man and he falls on his rear end. The hunter turned away from the stall, sheathed his knife and went up the street.

It did come in handy. The young hunter thought to himself.

Who the hell is that guy? He didn’t seem human. His eyes felt like I was staring into a bottomless pit. The warlock thought to himself as he gathered himself still sweating buckets.

—No one knew of him, no one spoke of him—

The hunter’s thought was clouded with these words.

No one knew of him? If that were so he could bet someone does and he could tell who. His mind played back to the eye he saw up in the apartment floor and the man Allora looked at back at the inn.

His feet halted kicking dust.

Before him was a t-junction and the tallest building in the town. It was as old as the others but it had more surviving rooms than any other. There were no shops around that area but a few buildings back.

Up in that very building, on the top floor behind the tinted glass stood the figure—an entity—staring down to the hunter.

“We will be one you and I, hunter. Soon.”

A sinister smile grew on his face. His tongue stuck out like that of a hungry beast licking his lips.

“Are you ready?”

“I sure am… Hihihi” said the small-bodied figure that wore a one piece, hooded, loosed long sleeved black dress which pressed firmly to her chest, down to her waist; and slightly flared to her knees. Everything about her spelled eerie and immeasurably evil. She cracked a smile under her hood.

“Bring him to me.” Said the man in clad.

It was as if he felt the presence of the entity in that building. His sights were locked, mind set on what was before him that he didn’t realize somebody drew closer from behind.

Closer… Closer.

Heartbeats, so close. That stench. It’s familiar.

Beside him they slowly reached their hand out and grabbed his.

He looked down to his side. It was the little girl. She was looking into the direction he was blanked on with her eyes half closed.

“… Hey.”

She turned craning her head up to meet his gaze.

“Don’t you have someone else to bother?”

She just stared at him with her big eyes.

“Where are your family?”

Then it dawned on him. —Maybe, just maybe she could help him find the answers he needed. But she was a kid, not older than four. And since he met her she hasn’t so much as spoken a single word. So how would she be able to help him?

Turning her away would be pointless since she didn’t listen to any of such commands.

“If you want to tag along make yourself useful this time… Care to show me around?”

Better late than never… I should have asked earlier. That is if she’d understand.

He didn’t think she understood as she just stared but then she started to tug on him.

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