"I needed you--and this, I'm sorry." A well of water overflowed, liquid traveling down from two violet eyes, forming streaks along dirt-stained cheeks. They merged with the thick rivers of blood dripping down from small, heart-shaped lips.

The surroundings were pitch black--the only light source was a faint, white light that flickered from a small chest. Two large shadows were piled on top of the other, close enough to the light for one to detect their form, but far enough to not be fully visible. A delicate, bloodied hand covered the light, submerging everything in darkness.

"Don't look at me like that Elva." A young girl's voice began breathing hard, her whimpers increasing in volume. It soon filled the air like the sound of pealing bells.

"Don't look at me at all."

Elva opened her eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling. It was white. And dusty.

And very wide.

Very...wide?

She touched her face. The scar down her eye was still there. But her lost eye seemed more voluminous than usual.

Hold on, how was she able to touch her face? She should have two missing arms from touching that crazy elf...

Another hand touched her face.

"And who are you?" She muttered. Two pale hands lifted themselves up, as if in response. They looked quite clean. Well, besides the long scar on her right arm when she killed that annoying minotaur a few years back. And the other one for that other annoying minotaur, this one for that pesky goblin, that one from a bike ride... that one from when she accidentally slapped some important ranker's butt--

She let out an eerie smile. But those aren't important.

Her cackling bounced off the walls. What's important was, she could now drink two bottles of beer at once with ease!

Her two legs fumbled with the sheets, before her bare feet hit the dusty, wooden floor. Two legs too--good.

Just when she was about to reach the door, it creaked open by itself. Her laughs subsided.

"You're awake?" A small child's voice spoke up. Wide, light brown eyes stared at her, and the aroma of rich chicken broth soup traveled up from a large bowl in his hands.

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"Uh, hey kid. Fancy meeting you here. How about I just get out of your way..." Elva awkwardly patted his silky, wheat-colored hair and edged through the door opening.

"But, this soup is--"

"Oh--but before I leave," for a moment she paused, and grinned at the boy and grasped his shoulder, "Looks like you saved me. I want to thank you for your goodwill. I will put these hands and feet to good use, don't you worry one bit."

The boy squinted his eyes, frowning. Putting the bowl down, he reached out to the side and whipped out a black, wide-brimmed straw hat. "Take this hat, the old lady says it's sunny out. Keep it on at all times. Oh, and, " his brows furrowing further, "where are you going anyway?"

Elva took it without a thought and placed it lightly over her head. A tiny realization dawned upon her when her ears showed a slight resistance. This boy--or that grannie who was addicted to her cooking who probably forced her into her house again--seemed to know something about it... But these were mere distractions.

"Somewhere that my soul has been yearning for for a long time, child."

***

A tall, large-bellied man with harsh green eyes stared at Elva disdainfully as he tapped his foot against the bar's marbled pavement. "So... where's the rest of the money?"

The metal, round chair creaked stiffly as Elva's hands fumbled into the hidden pockets of her dress. "I--uh..." Two sooty folds of fabric were pulled out and laid limp and empty at her sides.

@skjhfhs***. She sorrowfully cursed in her mind. She only had enough for one bottle.

Elva laughed and scratched her head, inching a few crumpled bills and coins across the counter. "Why don't you accept this first as down payment? This shouldn't be the first time you dealt something like this in your business ey, my longtime friend?"

The man turned his head and sniffed, sweeping away one of the two bottles of beer beside Elva, and the rest of her money. "I've dealt plenty enough with you to not trust your flow of income, customer. Come back when you've gained 50 more dollars for another bottle."

"50 dollar's?!" Elva's brows danced incredulously. Although internally she knew the reason for such a high price.

"What do you expect? Wine manufacturers along with the majority of other farmers have fled from Cali long ago from all the dungeons littering the state in unexpected places like crazy. All the alcohol left here have been imported from other states, so of course there's inflation, ruffian."

"Ah-wait wait!" Elva leaned over to the side and patted her knees. She took out a grey rectangular blade that dully reflected the sunlight. "I'll let you borrow this for a week."

An arched brow arched even higher. "Borrow? Merely borrow such an insignificant thing?"

Elva nodded with conviction, her pale blue eyes glinting. "Trust me, it comes in very handy."

"Why am I even conversing with this delusional woman--"

"Here is 50 dollars, good sir." A small, pale hand slid some bills across the counter.

Two heads gradually looked down to see a young boy wobbling on his small feet, staring at them with innocent, clear eyes that were filled with stars. Elva reluctantly registered that it was the same boy she saved yesterday. He was now wearing a clean set of clothes, and the soot and dirt that covered his body before had been washed away, revealing smooth and supple skin that only the young possessed.

Other customers that have been witnessing the fuss with slight annoyance softened their gaze.

Awww.