“Well? Any clues on what happened?” Broadwell used the tips of his fingers to brush off the sweat accumulating across his forehead. The black leather tried its best to soak it all up, but like a kitchen rag trying to absorb fluid from a deep puncture wound, failed and ended up squeezing out some of Broadwell’s past dabs, which traveled down the bridge of his nose and into the nest of blonde hair above his lip.
“Your men believe it’s some ox that was attacked,” Mattella answered.
“Well that’s that. Some ox. Good job, now let’s get out of here.” Broadwell took a step forward, preparing to yell a command.
“I think there’s more to it than that.”
Broadwell stopped. He turned around. Slowly. Broadwell eyed her. His eyes half squinted, and brows furrowed. He’d done so countless times during the “investigation.” The robe she wore was light, airy, and fluttered softly as if it were a butterfly, regardless of whether there was wind or not. Her attire contrasted with what Broadwell and his squad wore. As Tydon’s city guards, they were forced to don their signature steel plate mail. Helmet and everything, regardless of weather conditions.
“What…did you say?” Because they were outside the city and were in direct contact with the Sun, they were being roasted in their suits. He couldn’t even look at the armor he wore less he wanted to go blind. The strands of hair that poked from out of his helmet were a shade darker and collected so many sweat beads that they looked like ornaments from a Christmas tree. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
“I sa—”
“NOTHING!” Broadwell barked, his broad shoulders heaved. He was shivering; his hands balled so tight that cloudy grey liquid wrung out of his gloves. The sudden jolt of his body caused beads of sweat to drop onto his armor, which sizzled in an instant. The sudden shout made him feel dizzy. Deep in the back of his mind, he knew shouting at the mage was a mistake. But he was fed up. He couldn’t believe his ears when he was assigned babysitting duty. This news came abruptly during his break. His captain required him to train the young mage and give her experience resolving issues. He also had to wear a mobile oven while this spoiled brat wore light robes and could create wind to cool her down. All he cared about was going back into the comforts of the city walls and refreshing himself with ale. “You. Said. Nothingelse. Hear me?”
“No, I defi—”
“JUST SHUT UP! We’re leaving.” Broadwell exhaled from his nose; it sounded like steam from a train or gas being expelled from a copper pipe. “Listen. I don’t give a shit if you graduated from Tydon’s Mage School. I don’t care, if you were the best of the best in class. Out here…” He raised his arms and gestured toward the expansive plains. “You do what I say. I’ve been around longer than you have. It’s a dead animal. So what? Look at the damn thing—” He pointed a knife hand at the carcass. “—Picked apart and drier than jerky. What does that mean?”
“Well…T—”
“—It means several days ago…an animal died several hundred yards away from Tydon. And no one cared.” Broadwell swiped his forehead once again. His vision swirled, he felt as if the void was spreading around him, he felt the ale in his stomach churn, and his hands shook. “First tip in the real world: Don’t look too deep into it. The only reason we’re even looking at this is to give you some ‘real-world experience.’ Well here’s some experience for you.” Broadwell stepped toward Mattella and jabbed a leather finger into her shoulder. “Look at the coin you earn, and determine how much effort you put in. With the coin I’m paid, the most I’ll do is stand around and pretend I love protecting the city. The good part, anyways.” He shuffled over to the transport wagon and grabbed a water skin. He tilted the skin up so fast that most of the water slid off his face. He was about to pack everything up when he saw someone in the distance.
。 。 。
“Good afternoon kid.” The large figure in shining armor greeted the girl. He stopped in his tracks as he looked at the top of her head. A demon? Don’t see many of them around. She seems harmless enough. “Lookin' to get into the city?”
“Yep.” She said as she started up at the towering figure. His frame was large enough to block the scorching Sun and give her some welcoming shade.
Not much of a talker huh? He thought. He scratched his matted hair. “Well, you got an ID on you?”
“Oh, I have something similar.” The girl tilted her body to the right and looked beyond the soldier. Something caught her eye. “What’s going on?”
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“Nothing kid. Just some training.”
“Can I look?”
The soldier exhaled through his nose. “It’s Tydon military business. Now, on with you.” He tried to shoo her away and toward the city gate.
“I think I would like to stay and watch.” The girl took off the rucksack and pulled out a medallion. The sleek silver took the shape of a quill.
The soldier took a step back and narrowed his eyes, “…Who are you, girl?”
“Espie,” she shoved the medallion back into her pack. “Now, may I look at the scene?”
“…Go ahead. But we’re packing up. Make it quick.” The figure straightened himself and turned his back on her. “Name’s Broadwell, Observer. Hope everything goes smoothly.” Espie nodded her head and proceeded to walk toward the ox. She looked at the wide-eyed woman and opened her mouth.
“Hi.”
“O-oh. Hi there. My name is Mattella, a recent graduate of Tydon’s Mage School.” She smiled. Her previous demeanor vanished in an instant. “What do you need?”
Espie stared at the fallen ox and then back up at the robed figure. “Can you tell me what happened here?”
Mattella’s eyes widened again. “Wha? Oh, well, civilians are not supposed to be near the premises…”
“It’s close to the road so that’s unavoidable.”
“Well, yeah but—”
“Also I told the giant human already but I’m an observer.” Mattella’s eyes expanded to the point where they looked like saucers. Her mouth opened as she let out an uncontrollable sound.
“WHAA? But why so soon? The next Observer shouldn’t be here until like, like, uh, eighty years later!”
Espie shook her head in frustration. “That’s what I’d like to know too, human. Anyways, tell me what happened.”
“Well, Sir Broadwell says that it's just an unlucky ox.”
“And? Is it?”
Mattella’s face tightened as she stared at Espie. “I believe there’s more to it than that. Look,” Mattella knelt down at the ox’s face. “Reins. It’s definitely part of a caravan. Something must’ve happened.”
Espie placed a hand on her chin. “Huh, it got really far then.”
“Sorry?”
“Nothing. I saw a wrecked caravan while walking along the road. I assume the ox is part of the wreck.”
Mattella sucked in a breath, “That’s terrible! I must inform the council of this. The roads to Tydon need to be monitored.”
“Go ahead.” Espie turned towards Tydon and took a step forward. “…Might be better to save your breath though.”
Mattella’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean? This is important for the safety of the civilians.”
“Eh, You’ll understand soon enough.” Espie waved her hand as she started towards the city.
“Thank you…”
“Espie.” She looked back as she spoke. “It's Espie.”
“Espie. Thank you for informing me of this.”
Espie waved her hand. It flailed around as if there was a lack of support from the wrist. “No problem.”
“Is there anything I can do, Espie?”
Espie turned around and stared at her. “Usually you would refer to me as ‘Observer,’” Mattella bowed her head so fast her hair flew everywhere. “I apologize; I’ll be more careful in the future, Observer.” Espie stared at the sky, her mind flashing with things to ask. “The other Observer, where is the other Observer?”
Mattella raised her head. “Oh, yes. Apparently, he came a year before I was born, twenty or so years ago. No one knows where he might be now.”
He? That kind of narrows it down. Not by much, though. “Uh-huh…and did this Observer do his job?”
“Inscribing?” Mattella turned her head sideways. “I’m sorry, I don’t know, he seemingly disappeared.”
Hmm. An observer hangs around a city for about a decade before they leave. The Creators should know where we all are at all times. So, how did this person manage to escape?
Espie stared at the ground. Hard. If her eyes could beam out energy, the grass would be scorched by now. “I see…” She mumbled.
“Pardon?...”
“It’s nothing. Thank you Mattella.” Espie headed towards the gate of Tydon. She was sure now. This is where she needs to be. She was at her objective. As the city drew closer, she realized just how massive it was. The more she walked, the larger it looked. With each step she took, it felt like her heart would pound right out of her chest. Thump thump thump. It was so loud she could hear it over the crunch of the dirt road. She hated this feeling. She didn’t know what it was. It always occurred before her tests; the feeling was especially strong when she failed them. Espie was used to this feeling, but this time, it trumped all of her past moments. Documenting city events was what she was created to do, so it should be a cakewalk. But this time, it was different. Her objective changed. She knew others had to do it in the past as well, and her time was coming closer. What she didn’t realize was just how life changing the objective would be.