Golden rays of the sun entered through the window. They lit her cheeks and colored them gold instead of her usual pale tone. With eyes shut, she groaned weakly. The girl slowly sat up, gently lifting her neck from its strained position. She had slept with her head limp backwards, it was hard to tell if it would’ve been better to sleep slouched forward or not.
She winced from the mixture of heat and cold sweat, wiping her forehead. Her limbs felt heavy, she noted.
The room felt incredibly hot, courtesy of the sun shining through her windows. Cream-colored walls that made up her room seemed to radiate heat from where the sunlight hit. Becoming an echochamber but with intense heat instead of warped sounds.
Her room was relatively basic. The walls were four in total, making her room akin to a stretched cube. Furniture that mainly consisted of shelves and chairs littered her room. Usually, it would be quite strange for a person to have more than one or two chairs in their rooms but she quite liked them. The floor was made out of a pleasant dark-colored wood. Unfortunately, she could not enjoy it at the moment.
There was so much sunlight, it baffled her that this amount was even possible. It was as if the ball of flames in the sky fell down and happened to glare through her window. Her unadjusted eyes could barely tolerate the bright assault. Feeling the strain creep at the edge of her vision, she quickly made her way to the door.
With a creak, the door swung open to her relief. Air blowing through the hallway was refreshing. The effect was instant. With a sigh, she began to do her morning stretches. The hallway itself had a dark wood floor, its walls were cream-colored like her room. At the end of the hall, an open window remained the source of fresh air.
Though the hall was scarce of furniture– minus the round, wooden table by the window– the hallway was much ‘livelier’ in a sense. Decorated with their family’s various traditions, it did not fail to make it an interesting sight to look at. Some most notable were the stone-textured masks that gave off an ominous feeling. Prompting her to look away nervously.
Self-portraits and drawings were on the more mundane side of things, but she still felt fondness with each one. One in particular was of her mother and herself, enjoying themselves. ‘I remember that…’ She drew it herself. Though it was nothing like those fine art that she once saw from traveling merchants that passed by their village, she still captured the most important details. And for that, she is proud of it. Locking her hands above her head, she finished her last round of stretches.
–
She went to the forest on a snap-decision. It wasn’t too far away, so her still-weary legs were able to bring her there. Initially, she wanted to at least prepare for the first part of her plan, putting paint on the canvas one might say. But rationality won over impatience and she decided to ease her mind for a moment.
Running from adults, or anyone older than her for that matter, would be difficult in her worn-out state after all.
Ignoring the tall trees, she went to a specific area in the forest. Weaving through sticks and stones, her movements almost seemed practiced. It wasn’t but it reflected how often she visits in the first place. The grass here was darker and thicker, despite the rows of trees surrounding it, likely taking water for itself. But it did beg the question of how plants shared nutrients in the forest in the first place.
‘Are the bushberries dominant since they are able to thrive despite the competition? Or do forests just naturally have more nutrients than in villages?’ The girl wondered, feeling comfortable in letting her head rise above the clouds.
Akin to a splatter of rainbows, the various wildflowers spread across the open field. Standing out against the otherwise mundane forest. The girl could barely hold herself from her excitement, not wanting to accidentally step on them.
Like a tumbling ball, she bounced towards the bundle of colors. Instantly, she began to recall what she named the colors. ‘Rain-Wet Red, Pale-Stone White, Star Yellow and Deepwaters Blue.’ Her eyes held a light that seemed to never dim at that moment.
To others, they may have thought it was stupid. Only just childish names. But it didn’t matter to her. It didn’t even occur to her that they may even be remotely embarrassing. Her soft, tiny hands came into contact with the petals of a vibrant red flower.
‘Crushed Ruby-Red’ She named.
Its color imitated the valuable ore. The petals were sharp-edged but soft in texture, almost as soft as fur, except, without the fur. She thought it was similar to a lion’s mane, from what she’s read in the stories anyway. Fierce and protective, like the flower petals’ sharp edges. Unlike rubies however, the soft texture gave it an interesting layer to its depth. The kind of soft that reminded her of flowing water, thus, it was crushed ruby-red. ‘Flowing freely in its own way.’
The familiar pattern of thought gave her comfort. Enjoying the simple things in life and placing deep thought into those simple things, as if the harsh dangers in this world never existed.
When you think about it, someone has done something similar. And that would be how flowers are named flowers, how rocks are called rocks. Like her, they didn’t think about what people would think when they gave their discovery a name. Naturally, she shouldn’t as well.
Spinning on the ball of her foot, she leaned her head back to face the skies. It was still the same sky, if a bit bluer than minutes before. The sun had already taken its spot on the side of the horizon, thankfully not bright enough to blind her.
‘The clouds seem happy today.’ She noted, it seemed more ‘soft-stone white’ than ‘dull-silver gray.’
The girl hadn’t even noticed when a wide smile crawled to her face.
She liked this, to take her time with the world. To absorb what she can and enjoy what she does. To learn about the things she wants, and to not have to worry about things she has to. For a few moments, she realizes the small victories in what she can, finer times where she is glad.
Like a melting candle, she suddenly sagged. ‘Sadly, I have to go back.’
–
The girl wandered around the village. After making sure that no one somehow found out she was an orphan and decided to steal from her house, she went on to explore the familiar village. Walking around always helped her think straighter, she was hoping to work through the finer details in her plans.
Skipping steps and looking around, her eyes flickered through the scattered houses and the grassy sides. In spite of this, her eyes never locked with any of the people passing through the same path. Sweat rolled down the side of her face as her nervousness balled up in her stomach and never seemed to go away.
‘Don’t… look.’ Internally, she pleaded. Every tiny glance a person makes in her direction makes her heart rate spike. It was clear to her, they had little suspicions on her. But she just couldn’t get it out of her mind that they could just be waiting. Taking every sweet moment they can to just strike when she’s not looking.
She never noticed how much people seemed to curiously look around until it was the only thing she could think of.
Slowly, the girl set her eyes firmly in front of her. Slowing down, she began to recall her plans. The plans she so carefully crafted in her darkest moments with a heavy heart and a shriveled spirit. She won’t allow the painful loss to pull her down. ‘Not allow it to swallow my mind’
Like a shell unwinding, the anxiety and paranoia that plagued her mind slowly faded as though it was never there in the first place. Her habit of getting lost in her own head came in handy at the moment. ‘It’s kind of like meditation… I think.’ Truth be told, she never tried meditating. Most of the wisdom and knowledge not taught by her mother was learned through thick, crusty books shelved back home.
The village has a library as well. Most of the books were religious, much to her disappointment. Her mother showed her to their family’s own collection of books one day, when she voiced her unfruitful scavenge. It contained more variety, more information than its alternative.
Her interest in reading the first time came from something else however. Fondly, she could still vividly remember her mother sitting her down, on her lap. Then pulling out an old, dusty book. It had a hard cover, colored somewhere between brown and red.
She would read this wonderful story, full of hardships and mysteries. With the protagonist eventually overcoming them. Unlike other parents, her mother would usually pick out much more fleshed-out books. Sometimes, it would be a bit darker than what you would read to a child, but nothing traumatizing.
The girl noticed that her mother seems to dislike fairy tales. Wherein the plot is more plain and nothing of risk is presented. Nothing interesting is ever brought up aside from the concepts themselves. Even though she tries to hide it, her mother’s lips twitch into a frown every time she gives one glance at those fairy tales.
Because the books were longer than fairy tales, the girl made a habit to remember important details. At one point, she became overconfident in her memory and didn’t account for a small detail in the story, becoming caught off-guard by the twist in the end. Even though it was pretty obvious in hindsight.
Her mother chuckled at her flustered expression. And the girl decided she would never make that mistake again.
She appreciated those stories her mother read to her. Doing so while she made gestures that fit into the scene. A stabbing motion for death, crossed fingers for betrayal. It made it much more memorable. The clouds she had placed on her mind gave her relief. Though it won’t ever compare to her actual mother, the memories she still tightly holds gave her comfort.
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‘I think… I can start now.’ She felt much better, physically and emotionally. The heavy weights that bound her limbs to the ground are much lighter.
When she returned home, she came in with an air of nervousness and hesitation. Looking just about ready to collapse and bury her face into her pillow. When she came out, she came out with resolve, determination, and a hammer.
–
“My ball got stuck…” The boy muttered, looking at his rubber toy. It rests on the side of the rooftop, as if to look down on the boy. It was round, the size of a small basket. Various different kinds of leather were sewn together, forming the ball.
The boy felt helpless, he couldn’t reach it no matter how high he jumped. His fingers just barely slipped passed, unable to reach it. Stomping his feet with frustration, he was ready to give up. It wasn’t worth it anyway, trying to reach a stupid ball. The boy turned his head, as if he didn’t care.
Despite this, the boy was clearly upset. His mouth was clenched and his eyes were shut, slowly tearing up.
Not paying attention, he felt the air shift before a small hand landed on his shoulder. He whipped his head back, coming face to face with a girl his age. The girl was wearing dark boots with a flowing overdress. That’s when he felt it. An aura that pressed him down, hugging his soul in an icy grip.
“Hey, you seem to be having trouble with something.” She had a soft, almost whispery kind of voice. It snapped him out of his internal struggle and brought his attention back to the present.
The boy reluctantly decided to ignore the pressure. He was unable to meet her gaze, opting to keep his eyes on her dress instead. Her clothing seems to be a commoner’s clothing, modified to imitate a noble's. It was sewn together with materials of lesser quality, but the experience behind its folds and cuts was awe-grabbing.
The girl’s hands were pale and soft, as if they had never come across working a hot day in the farms. ‘Strange, very strange.’ He thought. The girl’s words only registered moments later. Realizing he failed to respond, red slowly made its way up his cheeks. His mother had always scolded him for that habit. But the girl seemed unbothered, as if there was no pause in the first place.
“O-oh, my ball over there got stuck.” He finally responded, stuttering awkwardly. It would be a lie to say he still wasn’t trying to get his mind off the aura. Warily, he pointed a finger at the roof’s side.
The girl turned her head to the side then hummed. She absent-mindedly tapped her chin, seemingly deep in thought. Reluctantly, the boy risked locking eyes. It seemed as if the clouds in her eyes were receding, the dullness fading for a moment. He noticed it was pale red, almost pink but not quite. The boy caught a glimpse of pure concentration in those orbs, a certain sharpness that only the most dedicated to their task can conjure. Suddenly, she turned to him and smiled widely.
“Give me money.” It came out as blunt as a fist.
“W-what?” ‘Is she robbing me?!’ He thought with panic. Rapidly, the boy reached into the sides of his shorts. Only to realize that he didn’t have pockets! Any other day, it would’ve sounded like a regular commoner begging for money, but with that aura she carried he feared–!
“It’s only two silvers for a ball right?” She casually asked, ignoring him. Simultaneously, she cut through the internal panic that began unraveling in his mind. He met her eyes. For a brief moment, her gaze held a glint of amusement, before it was swallowed by the dark aura once more.
The boy made a sound of realization. ‘I could just buy another ball!’ The boy thought. Once again, the words only registered after the panic and confusion.
In a moment of impulse, he reached into his back pocket– which he forgot about– and handed the girl two silver coins. With an air of satisfaction, the girl nodded. Right before she entered the large crowd, dissolving into the mass of people. He was a bit surprised at her speed, she looked like she would collapse by a howl of the wind. Pale skin with dark rings around her eyes.
The boy twiddled with his thumbs. He looked at the ball then at his hands. Then back at the ball then back to his hands. After a while, the boy wondered if he had been too rash. Giving money to a stranger and trusting them to buy something for you might not have been the smartest idea…
‘Mom is going to be upset about this.’
Just as he was about to leave and sulk in defeat, a familiar figure came back.
In her hands was a rubber ball. It was mildly pink, akin to faded red paint. It was made of different patches of colored leather. The shade of pink varied depending on the leather in the particular spot. This one was an entirely different color to his own ball, which was a creamy white.
The boy’s eyes were wide, having not expected her to actually come back. On another note, something strange he noticed is that the aura surrounding her was lighter. Not in the sense that it was weaker, but rather it didn’t actively ‘claw’ at its surroundings anymore.
He opened his arms for the ball but the girl walked past him. As if he wasn’t even there. He looked at her and was about to voice his confusion, when she suddenly positioned herself in front of the wall. The same one with the roof holding up his ball. He noticed her arms shook briefly, before the girl threw the pink-shaded ball.
With a loud clunk, the pale, once-stuck rubber ball fell down. It rolled for a few moments before stopping.
“Wow… I didn’t think of that.” He muttered, genuinely impressed with her thinking. He skipped to the ball and was about to pick it up, but then stopped, “Wait, what was even the point of that?” He asked. Couldn’t they have just gotten the new ball and left the old one?
The girl giggled, a petite hand softly grasping her face. She looked at him with a wide grin, as if was a magician proving something right. The girl turned to face and spoke in a more normal– but still soft– voice.
“This ball is for me, silly.” She smiled, genuinely this time. The previous darkness that lined her smile was completely gone. “You look the type that would play alone otherwise.” She said, discreetly insulting him. It went over his head as his face lit up.
The boy was overjoyed. It felt as if several words that can only describe happiness clogged the canals of his mind. He never had friends, but the thought of having someone to play with and joke with made him feel grateful for his inability to grab the ball, helpless for an entire hour.
“Do you want to be friends?!” He asked, practically bouncing.
The girl nodded, her emotions much more controlled but her smile betrayed her thoughts. “Sure.”
A new friendship is made. Unbeknownst to them, it would be a bond that is known to all and beyond. One that is known and feared by every one that is in their way.
–
“You know,” The strange girl started, “You were a pretty slow talker, for someone so energetic.” At the end of her sentence, the ends of her lips curled up. The boy, walking beside her, flushed in embarrassment.
“I was hoping you didn’t mention that…” He muttered, trying to pull himself together. He only got a giggle in response.
She stretched, popping her joints. A look of surprise and concern came on the boy’s face. “Hah–huh?! Are you okay? Are your bones breaking?!” The girl slowly turned her head at him, a tame confusion on her face. “Eh?”
“You were making popping sounds!” He practically screamed.
It was then at that point that she began to explain to him basic human anatomy. And that her bones weren’t breaking. That is, after the long round of laughter that swept over her, further enhancing the boy’s face to a red beyond reds. ‘Blood-Berry Red’ She thought. “For a noble, you don’t really read much do you?” Emphasis on the ‘much’, translates to not at all.
“I-I…” He wanted to retort, but the words refused to leave his mouth. Any sort of counter-argument he could brew would just be a lie. He really just doesn’t study or read much, focusing on playing around and trying to make friends.
“Anyway,” she waved her hand as if dismissing the previous conversation, “I’ve got to go now, name?” She ended her sentence as blunt as she had first caught his attention, through confusing wording.
It took a moment to register what she meant before the boy answered. “O-Oh, it’s Thomas Riddleword.”
“Thomas Riddleword, huh?” She said his surname in the same whispery tone from earlier. Meanwhile, he was trying not to show visibly how happy he is with the fact that he said his surname right, not stuttering once. Though, he was impressed that someone else his age said it right, saying it even in a cool way.
The girl in truth had trouble speaking properly, spending her days reading and writing by herself. That was why she whispered it out at the end, she could just wave it off as mishearing her if she said his name wrong. But he didn’t need to know that.
“Bye now.” Swift as the evening wind, she disappeared. Not literally, like the boy would’ve wanted. That would be witchcraft sadly, but it would have been cool. Off the distance, the girl was slowly leaving his view. She remained a small dot of blue and brown before blending completely into the thick crowd. ‘Must be rush hour.’ He thought, having trouble to even just spot her.
The boy turned to face the tree beside him and threw his ball. It bounced back and hit him square in the face. Let it be known that Thomas Riddleword has great intuition, but not great reflexes.
–
‘They’re all set.’ Dozens of lines of rope were layered above the trees, similar to spiderwebs. They were just barely visible as they were tied to tree branches too high up to fully register as anything but odd branches. That is, if you could even see them from the night’s darkness. They might as well be invisible.
Dry leaves were caked all over the floor, cracking with every step. Looking closely enough into the tall, brown trees, you would notice something sticking out. Long daggers were pierced through the trunks, their sharp ends stuck out through the other side like a needle through cloth. Odd, strange-looking handguards helped to keep them in place, the handle being dark black. ‘Cave-Rock Black’
The girl admired her handy work, eying the traps she carefully laid out. She made sure everything was functioning, cautiously running her finger through the sharp blade. A warped feeling of satisfaction filled her being for a moment. A tiny smile creeped up her face.
Granted, her traps were basic at best. Blades and sharp objects laid out strategically in an open forest. It was deep inside the biome that screams would go unheard but close enough that she could realistically lure people in with a white lie.
Her breathing was slow and deep, a forced calm that she wasn’t sure she brewed to hide her nervousness or excitement. Bloodlust unknowingly seeped out into the environment, scaring away smaller animals from the area. The weary bones in her body felt as if a burst of energy had erupted from the inside out, she wasn’t completely sure what it was.
The girl could feel her hands shake as she wiped the sweat off her face. Once again, unsure which of the two emotions were present. Who knows, maybe it was just the hunger. She forgot to eat today.
But either way she’s got a plan. She’s already prepared for this. In her pocket, her hammer was tucked away. Having gone unused for its original purpose, involving a helpless boy, and now given a role to protect its master.
‘I’m ready.’
She thought.