Infant Moon / 1 /1201 A.F.
I’m sitting on my da’s shoulders amidst a crowd of a bunch of other families. Today’s the Annual Hunter’s Festival… and me and my da got front row seats. After all these years of ma saying I couldn’t go… I’m finally here. Da had to sneak us out of the house, so we’re totally getting in trouble, but it’ll be worth it. I finally get to see some Hunters up close! I wonder what kind of weapons I’ll see. Maybe they managed to scavenge something cool from the Boundary… maybe they carved armor from the ribcage of a titan or forged a giant lance out of the tusk of a mammoth! Eeeee! I can’t wait! Come on you stupid city gate! Open up already! Show me the pride and joy of Athos!
A few moments later, the gates open up and a procession of hunters, floats, and performers begin marching into the city. Men and women covered head to toe in battered bone armor march together chanting the imperial anthem. People dancing in mirage costumes dance fervently around the floats as if they’re desperately trying to placate a war god. With every step, I can hear the mechanics and devices under the suits clink and twist. The eyes and limbs of the costumes twitch and vibrate with an exceptional level of realism. I need to have Seth’s da show me how to make one of those things. It could make for a good practice dummy. On the next float, I see rows upon rows of berserkers twirling axes and beating war drums. Each beat of the drum makes my skeleton rattle and my jaw tighten. My breathing starts to waver and my arms begin to twitch. Just listening to it makes me want to run and fight and pillage until my arms are weary and my body is dry. The next float features rangers aiming their bows into the air and firing. I twitch and cover my head, but no one else looks perturbed. Moments later, the berserkers in the float ahead of them slice the arrows in two with their axes to thunderous applause.
A figure clad head to toe in pitch black armor brings up the rear of the parade and slams the gate shut behind everyone. They raise their axe into the air and shout loud enough to drown out the procession before them. “FRIENDS! ATHESIANS! COUNTRYMEN! LEND ME YOUR EARS!”
Everyone in the city square falls silent. My father clasps his ears and grunts.
“MAY THE FESTIVITIES COMMENCE!” The armored figure roars with the strength and will of a thousand lions and everyone erupts into cheer.
My da pulls away from the parade and begins making a dash for the market road.
“Whoa! Da!” I grasp onto his hair and tighten my legs. “Heading for the meat contest so soon?”
“Of course I am! I’ve been waiting all year for this!” Da shoves some people out of the way and continues dashing towards the market row.
“WOOOO! Go da!” I cheer before looking behind me and seeing a bunch of other families running behind us. “Hurry up! We’re gonna get trampled! Mush! Mush!”
“On it!” Da manages to hurry up and make it to the meat booth before anyone else. When we get there, we’re greeted by a dead mountain hog spinning on a skewer before a great bonfire. Oooh… those are the hogs da keeps talking about. Geez. These things are huge. This one has to be thirty feet long and at least ten feet wide. It has four tusks that all curl inward and dig into its skull. Almost makes me feel bad for the thing. Almost. Mountain hogs are angry bastards. They’ll gore you and trample your family if you even look at them funny. Standing before the pig is a veritable mountain of a man. Eight feet tall. Arms and thighs the size of tree trunks. He has a massive scar running down from his forehead to his left ribcage. His left eye is shut, but he has this worn, warm smile on his face. His torso looks fat, but like a hard fat… I feel like I’d shatter my hand if I were to even punch this guy. Seriously. His hand looks big enough to crush my da’s skull like a marshmallow.
“So…” The man looks down at us and grumbles. “What’ll it be?”
“Ribs please.” Da reaches into his pocket and tosses the man a gold piece. “For two please.”
“Wanna play a little arm wrestling game?” The man squats down to the adjacent long table and rests his hammer of an elbow on it. “You win, I give you double the ribs for free. You lose, you pay double. Deal?”
“Deal.” Da rolls up his sleeve, sits down across from the man, and holds his hand. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
“GO!” The two yell simultaneously. Within seconds, my da’s arm and body crash against the table. The mountain man lets go and dusts off his shoulder. “That’ll be another gold piece.” he grins and extends his arm to help my father up.
“Hold up!” I get between the mountain man and da. “You arm wrestle me! If I win, it’s free!”
“Astrid, don’t!” Da bellows.
“You got yerself a deal.” Mountain man cackles, sits down again, and jams his elbow against the table. I swear I felt the earth tremble under me.
“Good.” I roll up my sleeve, sit down across from the man, and put my hand against his. Wow. Okay. Maybe this was a bad idea. My hand can barely wrap around three of his fingers.
“Ready?”
“Ready!”
Next thing I knew, my body’s flipped up onto the table. My arm feels like it was almost yanked out of its socket. My shoe also got flung off and bonked some stranger on the head. Back of my head feels numb and all air that was in me got knocked out. I feel ill.
“Had enough?” Mountain Man grins at me and offers his arms to help me and Da up. We accept his offer and manage to stand up just fine.
“That. Was. So. Cool!” I immediately wrap my arms around Mountain’s bicep and squeeze it. “How did you get this huge? What’s your secret? Is there a secret?”
“Bwahaha!” Mountain cackles. “Gotta eat two pounds of meat and vegetables everyday, then do farmwork or hunt mirages until your hands are callous as rocks, and then jog in the Boundary until your lungs learn to value each ounce of oxygen as if it were your last! Do that everyday for a decade and you’ll be half as big as me!”
“I’ll start right now!” I sit down at the table. “Bring on the meat!”
“You heard her.” Da flips Mountain another coin. “Meat us up.”
“With pleasure.” Mountain takes a hatchet beside his booth and cleaves part of the ribcage out in one blow, slaps huge slabs of meat down onto plates, and slides the plates over to us. “Enjoy!”
This slab of meat is twice the size of my head. I could use this as a buckler if I wanted or carve the bones into daggers. But… that would be disgraceful. This has too many spices and is cooked too well to be used as weaponry. With all my might, I manage to separate a rib from the cage and sink my teeth into it. I have entered the flavor kingdom. All I can see, hear, taste, smell, and feel is meat. I don’t even care if I can barely move my left arm. This meat is too good… I’ll have to eat all of it if I want to grow strong. Here begins my journey to becoming a hunter.
Eventually, I manage to digest some of the meat. My body doesn’t feel like slipping into a meat coma anymore, so that’s good. Hmm… Where to go next? Do I check out the weapons merchants? The Hunting story corner? Or the mini colosseum? I need to move some more. Meat’s not going to digest itself. Mini colosseum it is. I lead my da over to the colosseum set up. The perimeter’s no larger than twenty feet. There’s two rows of makeshift benches set around so family members can watch their children fight each other. I’ve been waiting for this. It’s been two days since my last scuffle. I need to punch something. “Da!” I tug on his arm. “Can I enter?”
“Of course you can!” He pats my shoulder, tosses me a gold coin, and heads off to the benches. “Make me proud! Kick some ass!”
“Will do!” I head over to the counter attendant and slam my gold piece down on the counter. “I wanna fight.”
The woman looks down at me and smiles. She has a long braid running down her shoulder and has a wicked looking bruise over her right eye. “Very well. What’s yer age?”
“Twelve.”
“I see.” She reaches over the counter and scrapes the coin into a little chest with a wicked looking mechanical hand. “Weight?”
“95.”
“Very well.” She looks at a little clipboard. “Would you like to fight a random entry or do you have a specific partner in mind?”
Before I can answer, someone comes up next to me and slams a gold piece down on the counter. “I would like to fight her.”
“Hm?” I turn to face him. Pale skin, messy hair, freckles, average height, but solid build, and a mustache that just barely started growing. I can’t even call it a stache. Looks more like glorified peach fuzz than anything else. Looks about my age. “SETH!?”
“Damn right, Astrid.” he smiles and punches me in the arm. “How ya been?”
“Hngh…” His fist collides right where the Mountain smacked me onto the table. “Pretty good. Just started training to be a Hunter.” I wind up and put all my strength into punching him back in the arm. Think I felt my knuckle slide out of place.
“Ooph!” Seth grits his teeth and stumbles backwards holding his arm. “Damn. Where’d you learn to punch like that? I need to know.”
“Ancient family secret.” I waggle my finger. “So you think you can take me?”
“I know I can.” Seth rubs his arm and turns back to the attendant. “Can I fight her now?”
“Yes indeed.” she points to me. “Enter the door on your right, get yourself equipped, and stand by the door to the arena.” she points to Seth. “You enter the door on your left and do the same. Leather helmets and wooden swords for you two. Don’t need any kids dying today.”
“Yes, ma’am!” I give her a little salute and head off into the door. “See ya in the ring, rat stache.”
Seth laughs, shakes his head, and heads off into the other room. “I’ll get you for that.”
I walk into the room and see what looks like a locker room. Kids as young as five are getting fitted for armor and practicing their sword swings. Good. Good. Start them young. Exercise is important. I gotta be one of the older kids here. I make my way over to the weapons and armor rack. Manage to find a leather helmet that fits well enough. All I need to do now is consider what kind of sword I want to use. Do I go two-handed? Do I go shortsword? A rapier maybe? When in doubt, always go for range. I pick up a wooden longsword from the rack and take a practice swing.. Got a good, even weight to it. Feels hefty, but manageable. I’d hate to be on the receiving end of this. I swing the sword again, heft it over my shoulder, and make for the gate by the arena entrance. I can see a match just ending through the bars. Two seven-year-olds are swinging wildly at each other with wooden shortswords. It’s completely embarrassing to watch. They’re aiming for the swords instead of each other and they refuse to step back or go for a lunge… maybe they didn’t learn that yet. Regardless, it’s always fun to watch little kids fight like this. Nowhere else will you get to see boundless energy meet zero skill. I’ve seen beatles fight with more dexterity. The fight ends when one kid falls on his back and the other just jumps on his stomach and just starts slapping his head with the sword. The one on the floor flails and tries to get out of it, but just ends up conceding after the fourth head whack. The standing kid roars in victory before helping the other kid up and escorting him over to me. The gate opens up, the kids limp past me, and I enter into the fighting arena. There’s a small trail of blood where the kids once were. Gotta be careful not to slip on any of that.
The gates across from me open up and Seth walks in wielding a gladius. It’s almost as long as his arm and looks no heavier than three pounds. Gotta be sure to not let him get close to me. He could probably hit me four to five times before I can get one good swing in. Seth reaches the center of the ring and begins cheering and pumping his sword to the crowd.
Not to be outmatched, I join his grandstanding. I flex my biceps and swing my sword around. Everyone seems to like that. I even manage to get some cheap flowers thrown into my corner.
“Alright, contestants!” the attendant’s voice booms from the center of the stands. “Take your positions on the chalk lines!”
Seth and I quiet down and step back behind chalk lines towards the center of the ring. We’re standing ten feet apart from each other. He’s wielding his sword in his right hand with a wide, but relaxed stance. He’s lazily wiggling it in my direction. “You’re going down, Astrid.”
“If you say so.” I take a wide stance and balance my weight between my legs. I lift the blade to about neck level and rest the hilt near my head. Just gotta get one good lunge in. If he tries to duck under it, I’ll just knee him in the face. Footwork is not only fair, but expected in swordfights.
“Three… two… one… begin!”
Seth immediately rushes towards me. Predictable as usual. I’ll just stab at him then kick him when he ducks. Just gotta wait for him to get into range and… NOW! I stab at him, but he leaps over it, bonks my head, and lands on top of me.
He wraps his arms and legs over my torso and sends me tumbling towards the ground.
My back hits the dirt and Seth tenses his thighs over my sides and continues beating my chest with the sword. “Ready to give up?” he chuckles before stabbing me in the solar plexus again. That… doesn’t… feel good… at all… I’ll get him for that.
“Sand attack!” I grab a fistful of dirt and chuck it right into his eyes.
“Damnit!” he clutches his eyes, jumps off of me and creates some distance between him and me. “Always with the sand in the eyes! Quit it!”
“I only do it because it always works on you!” I clutch my stomach and rise to my feet using my sword for support. “Now enough talk! Have at you!” I rush towards him and throw out a wide, heavy horizontal swing. I might break his ribs if I go too hard. If that happens, it happens. It’ll be a good learning experience for the both of us.
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Seth doesn’t even try to parry the swing and just steps backwards. He’s still trying to rub the dirt out of his eyes. “Hey come on now! Isn’t attacking a blinded opponent dirty?”
“It’s only dirty fighting if you lose.” I pivot around to maintain my swing momentum and swing again. That exposes my back a little, but it should be safe. When I face him again, I get to see my blade collide with Seth’s side. It sounds like slapping jelly with a spoon, but twice as satisfying. I see his face contort and his body go flying five feet off the ground to the side.
“YEEEEEAAAAAH!!! GET HIM!!!” The crowd goes wild.
I bask in the glory for a sec. “Yeah! That’s right!” I flex my bicep and beat my chest. “Name’s Astrid! Don’t forget it!” I swing my blade at the crowd before feeling a pair of feet crash against my shoulder and neck. While I was busy playing to the crowd, Seth had delivered a meaty dropkick to me. Wow. That hurts. Not gonna lie. Real hard to breathe. Could’ve sworn I heard a crack when I hit the ground. Totally deserved that though… shouldn’t have taken my eyes off of him.
“Hah… hah.. gnngh…” Seth picks himself off the ground and wipes his now red eyes one last time. “There’s more where that came from… Ready to give up?”
I swear under my breath and look up at the sky. For a moment, I forget all pain. “Nah.” I start to get up… but damn it’s hard. Managed to drop my sword on the way down, so I don’t even really have anything to support me except my own two legs.
“No ya don’t.” Seth delivers a push kick to my chest and sends me crashing back down on the floor again. He managed to knock out the last bit of breath I didn’t even know I had. “C’mon, Astrid.” he smiles down at me and points his gladius to my throat. “Concede, my dude.”
“Make me!” I push his wrist away from me, inch towards him, and deliver a swift kick to his crotch.
“Mother…” Seth’s body rumbles and his eyes twitch. He stumbles backward clutching his stomach, but maintains his footing. “COME ON!”
I get out a cold, wet series of coughs, brush my mud-stained hair out of my eyes and manage to get back up to my feet. “All’s fair in fighting, man.” I keep my eyes locked on him and manage to pick up my longsword. I take a deep, pained breath and get into a stance once more. “Plenty more where those came from.”
“Not likely!” Seth throws his gladius at me like a hatchet. Real good aim and spin on it too. It’s going right for my face.
I manage to duck down, spin around, and put all my strength into throwing this longsword as hard as I can at Seth. The sword goes flying and spinning like a four foot long boomerang of death.
Seth jumps right over it and books it right for me. “ASTRIIIIID!” He winds up a punch and aims right for my left cheek.
I catch it with my hand and jump forward with a knee.
Seth catches me, digs his nails into my back, and throws me away from him.
I yell before tumbling against the ground like an abused ragdoll. “You idiot!” I get up immediately only to be greeted by a hell of a gut punch. I can feel some meat get popped out of my stomach and up my throat. Don’t vom now… that’s good meat. I need those nutrients. Wait! I can vomit on him if he gets another good gut punch in! He’ll never see it coming!
As I’m about to keel over, Seth grabs my shoulder to keep me standing. “Ready to concede yet?”
“You kiddin’?” I grin up at him. “I’ve seen kittens punch harder.”
“Alright.” Seth shrugs, fastens his grip on my shoulder, winds up another gut punch, and delivers another devastating blow to my stomach. My lower torso feels like liquid. Chest feels gross. Throat feels tight. This is it! “How about no-”
I look up at Seth and blow a whole mess of chunks all over him. “BLARGAGHGHGGHGHAH!” Bits of rib splash into his hair, chunky bile drips down his cheeks, and hot milk I had earlier shoots into his eyes.
“AAAHAGHAG NONONONONO!!!” Seth lets me go and starts freaking out. He’s shaking and flailing wildly. He drops to the floor and rolls around like a rodent trying to get himself dry.
The plan worked… only bad part is I can’t stop. I’m keeling over puking out the pound of ribs I worked very hard to eat… Damnit… The worst part about puking is that just looking at or smelling vomit makes you wanna vomit more. I need to keep punching Seth. I need to finish this fight, but I can’t. I’m hunched over because my body insists on getting everything out.
By the time my stomach’s empty, my sinuses feel clogged. My entire head feels stuffed with solids that really shouldn’t be there. I can breathe just fine, but I feel like I’ll suffocate if I don’t get the sinus chunks out soon.
“ASTRIIIID! THAT WAS NOT COOL!” Seth continues to roll on the ground trying to get the vom out of his eyes..
I wipe my mouth clean, stand up straight, and look at him. He’s standing, but hunched over like me. His eyes are bloodshot. He looks like he’s just been dunked in a swamp. He’s twitching like he just snorted a pound of scarlet too. He’s probably mad that I puked on him. Can’t blame him. “Hey man… that wasn’t on purpose…”
“LET’S JUST FINISH THIS NOW!” Seth starts sprinting full force at me faster than I’ve ever seen.
“WITH PLEASURE!!!” I reach down, coat my hands in vomit, then rush Seth.
We just start punching and kicking each other like rabid mirages. There’s no reason, strategy, or finesse to any of our strikes any more. Seth’s operating out of pure rage. I’m just trying to keep up until he gets tired or until my head explodes from whatever vom got lodged in my nose. I feel like garbage, we look like garbage, but we’re having the time of our lives. I can feel it. Seth’s eyes are pulsating with rage but his smile is genuine. My head’s light and my body doesn’t feel like it’s mine, but I’m thinking at a mile a minute and our bodies always move to match each other. He punches, I punch. He kicks, I kick. Each strike is met with an appropriate block. We keep punching and punching and punching until I get tired, wind my head back, and send it crashing against Seth’s. Even with the helmet, it hurts. A lot. My neck compresses, my legs grow weak, and I fall onto my back. Luckily, Seth does the same.
We lie quiet on the ground for a moment. Sky’s cloudy again, but that’s to be expected. I’m surprised we got any sun this week to begin with. Just as I feel a drop of rain hit my nose, the crowd goes wild with applause. I hear people calling the match hype, grand, and disgusting… Good. That’s what I like to hear. All the best fights are disgusting.
Seth takes a deep breath, groans, and speaks up. “Woo… you alright there, Astrid?”
“Been better…” I rub my neck. “Where’d you learn to punch like that?”
“Been cutting wood with ma lately…”
“I was gonna say… you looked way bulkier since the last time I saw you…” I press a finger to one side of my nose and shoot out a chunk of meat. I instantly feel way better and feel my airways clear.
“Aaw… thanks… you finally noticed…” Seth laughs, but the laughs quickly turn back to pained groans. “You’ve grown a bit too… why’d you get so tall…?”
“Meat.” I close my eyes and let the fresh rain wash over my gross body. “Lots… and lots of meat…”
“I see…” Seth takes a deep breath. He sounds content. “So I totally won that, right?”
“No way. I totally had you.”
“Only because of the vomit!”
“Puking on your opponent is a perfectly valid strategy.” I laugh as a pair of waiting competitors scoop me up and start hauling me back to the locker room.
“We’ll call it a draw for now!” Seth also gets hauled off.
I get patched up and cleaned up then da and I wander around the festival some more until we find this tiny makeshift amphitheatre with some older Hunter telling his tales. He looks ancient, but sturdy as a fort. Large, but well-kempt beard. Built like a chariot. His eyes are grey and cloudy and he’s missing a leg and three fingers, but he still looks like he can crush me in one blow. Despite his eyes looking like they’re filled to the brim with mist, the hunter carries himself as if he can see everything just fine. He has a metal prosthetic for his left leg. Well, prosthetic is underselling it. It looks more like a cannon attached to a thigh stump. The leg looks worn, but well maintained. Powerful, but not flashy or fancy looking. Just the way I like it. Putting decorations or engravings on a prosthetic serves no practical purpose. They give you no tactical advantage whatsoever… I almost want to lose a limb in battle just to get a sick cannon limb like that. I’d look cooler and be more deadly. It’s an objective upgrade. Da and I are sipping on some pumpkin stew. I’m already halfway done with mine. Gotta replace my lost lunch somehow.
“Are you okay, Astrid?” Da pats me on the head. “Do you need medicine or an ice pack?”
“Do I look like some kind of weakling to you?” I glare at da and slurp down a mouthful of stew.
“Attagirl.” Da pats my back.
The hunter lets out a loud cough and takes a deep sip from his stained canteen. “Anyone got any questions…? I’ve said my piece…”
I raise my hand so fast it nearly pops out of its socket.
“Yes! You there!” The Hunter puts away his canteen, pulls a stick of solid blues out of his scarf, and begins munching on it.
“Have you heard of any new places in the Boundary? I’d like to start training.”
“New?” The hunter clears his throat. “Depends what you mean by new… but there’s this new place on the western end of the Southern border by the Oblivion Waterfall. The Mistwalkers over there called it the Ravine. Fastest route there would be a two week trip by carriage to the Fortuna River then a two day boat ride.”
“Can we go there!?” I shake my da’s arm. “Please please please?”
“Whoa whoa hey now.” Da licks some stew off his lip. “I barely managed to sneak you out here. Your ma would kill me if I let you go hunting in the Boundary.”
“Aaaw c’mon, da. Are you really afraid of ma?”
The Hunter interrupts us with a hearty laugh. “Now now, lass. Ease off your father. Every wise man fears his wife. Besides, kids like you shouldn’t be playing in the Boundary. You should be hunting Ds in sewers. Maybe a C with a large group and parental supervision. That’s what I did when I was a young one. Didn’t step foot in the Boundary till I was a grown man, and I liked it that way.”
“I’m not a weakling!” I glug down the rest of my soup and stand up. “I can handle the Boundary just fine!”
“Kid…” The hunter raises his voice just a little, and yet it's enough to make my entire spine contract. “I’ve seen many good friends and veteran hunters lose their lives out there. Don’t be so eager to die.”
“If they were that weak, they deserve to die.”
Warm Moon / 7 / 1218 A.F.
I do not know who this Martha is and I tremble to think what her occupation is. However, her room is far more atrocious than I ever could have imagined. It is a single bedroom with a bathroom adjacent to it. One large bed. One modest sofa. One bathtub that has a large magenta stain on the side. I do not want to think about it. There is this bizarre smell violating the air that I cannot quite describe… It is rancid, yet mild. Foreign, yet familiar. Unpleasant, but just barely tolerable. The rest of the room is like that as well. Boxes, weapons, and dirty clothes line the entire floor. I nearly tripped on a battle axe three times making it to the sofa. There is also a very large, very scary dog sleeping in the corner. He looks as old as time and as powerful as a titan. Yet he has not woken up the entire time I’ve been here. He’s still breathing as well, so I’m certain he is not dead… maybe he is an automaton, but that would just raise more questions. The sofa is crusty and dusty. The blanket Martha gave me is pleasant at least. It is clean and warm and the only pleasant thing around here. I cannot sleep. I have been clutching my knife to my breast the whole night. If I fall asleep, I fear criminals will burst in… Astrid has been sleeping in the bed with Martha the whole night. She has been tossing and turning nonstop and even mumbling things from time to time. I cannot make out what she is saying. Must be Athesian. She may be a bit… crass and just a tad too nonchalant, but her Lombardic is superb. I wonder where she learned to speak it.
Without warning, Astrid shoots awake. Her upper half springs out of bed. Her breath is rapid and uneven. Her hair obscures half her face. Her shirt is stained with spit and alcohol. Her entire body is trembling.
“Astrid…? Are you-"
“GODDAMNIT!!!” Astrid bursts into tears and pounds a hole in the wall behind her with the back of her hand. She continues yelling, but I can’t understand her. Astrid’s hand gets stuck in the wall and her speech dissolves into incomprehensible crying. She does not sound human. She sounds like an animal caught in a trap. She is even thrashing around like one. I am afraid if I move, she will pounce on me and devour me whole. Her voice pierces my soul and causes the walls to rattle… and yet Martha is still fast asleep next to her with a bottle of wine cradled fast in her arms. Where did she acquire that wine? That’s a Lombard bottle… the kind we would keep in the Monastery's cellar for decades before prying open.
Astrid lets out one last shriek before prying her hand out of the wall. She is still crying, but it is nowhere near as hysterical. She wipes her hair out of her face, gets out of bed, gets something out from under her pillow, and heads for the door. No jacket. No armor. No weapon. Just her in her undershirt and pants.
“As-”
Without looking back or a single word, Astrid leaves the room and slams the door shut behind her.
I look out the dirty window and see it’s pouring rain outside. Nearly pitch dark as well. If it were not for the nearby streetlight outside, I would not be able to see anything outside.
Calm down, David… Calm down. Think. What would the Matriarch do? She would comfort the sorrowful. Of course. Of course. It is so scary out there though… but that never stopped the Matriarch. Then again, I am not the Matriarch. I am sure Astrid can take care of herself. Besides, I have a big day tomorrow. I should rest.
I face the ceiling and try to close my eyes… but something else is keeping me up. Something deep inside. It is no use. I cannot sleep. I have to talk to her. I get up, throw on a jacket, put my boots back on, borrow a shortsword beside the couch, and head out after Astrid. I carefully close the door behind me and find myself in an equally rancid hallway. Carvings and drawings in various languages line the walls. There are two people lying on the floor towards one end of the hallway. They are not bleeding… but they are not in an enviable position. I hear footsteps descend the staircase to the right of me. I turn towards the staircase and descend it. Four steps in, I can see Astrid out of the corner of my eye turn left towards The Tavern lobby and make towards the exit. I cannot let her go outside like that! She will catch a cold. I pick up the pace and make for the lobby. By the time I get there, I see The Tavern doors flap open and close. Blast! Too late! No matter… I will just go outside… I can do this. I am a big boy. I pass through some drunken men and questionable women and head outside.
Cold. Cold does not even begin to describe the conditions outside. The entire town is being assaulted by rain. Each raindrop feels like it is drilling into my skin. The wind causes the few trees growing out of the castle walls to rattle and lose precious branches. Trash, boxes, and even some signs get pried from the ground and slide along the castle roof. Water floods the floor up to my ankles. In a mere ten seconds, my shoes are soaked through. If it were not for the weight of this jacket, I fear I might have been blown away.
And yet… Astrid is just standing there with her back to me. Standing still in the middle of the street as if the sky was clear and the sun was shining. Astrid looks like a statue… or a ghost. She is holding her hand to her mouth and looking up at the sky. She is absolutely drenched. Her hair is blowing wildly in the wind. Icy water pounds down on her. And yet, she is standing completely still. Not shivering in the slightest. It is hard to tell if she’s even breathing… I breathe in and can immediately smell her smoking something.
“Astrid.” I approach her. “Astrid? Are you okay?”
No response. I see an indigo cloud rise from her head only to get immediately blown away.
“Astrid? Can you hear me?” I grab her shoulder and shake her lightly.
Astrid takes another deep breath. “Kid…” she keeps her head up and refuses to face me. “Go back to bed. It’s not safe out here.”
“Do you need to talk about something?” I continue shaking her shoulder.
“No. Go away.” Astrid shakes my hand off. “Quit touching me.” I see her shoulders and back tense up immediately. Her back and shoulders look as sturdy as a brick wall.
“Astrid. Please. Let me help you.” I touch her shoulder again and resume gently shaking her.
“Go. Away.” Astrid takes a deep inhale. Her entire head is encased in an indigo cloud for a moment before the cloud is whisked away by the wind. I can see what remains of a stick of blues crumble out of her hand and hit the pavement. The moment it hits the pavement, it is washed away by the rain.
“Astrid. Please. Let me talk to you. Anything can be helped by a bit of talking.” I pull her towards me.
Astrid turns around and I feel something collide with my cheek. Something hard. I could not see what it was. All I know is that I found myself crumpled up on the floor a moment later with my hand clutched to my cheek. My face felt like it had been struck by a bolt of lightning. Tears erupt from my eyes. Water floods my clothes. Icy water crashes against my face as it skids across the pavement. Pain erupts from my cheek, cascades across my face and rattles my brain as I hit the pavement. I look up at Astrid. She is towering over me. Her arms are shaking. Her fist is clenched. Tears and snot are flowing from her face. I can see blood trailing from her palm down to her knuckles. Her stare pierces my soul and binds me to the pavement. “Look what you did.” She kicks my ribs and sends me off the ground for a moment. “Why didn’t you listen to me!?”
“I-I’m sorry!” I almost vomit from the impact, but somehow summon enough strength to roll away. My entire torso and face feels numb. I cannot tell if it’s from the cold or the strike… but I do not wish to know. “P-please don’t hurt me!”
“THEN LEAVE ME ALONE!” Astrid bellows and kicks dirty water in my eyes. “GET OUT OF HERE!”
“Okay okay!” My vision begins to grow cloudy from tears. I rise to my feet, cough up some snot, and begin limping back to The Tavern. I can barely walk, let alone stand. The pain from my face and ribs force me to hunch over.
“DAMMIT! WHY DOESN’T ANYONE LISTEN TO ME!?” Astrid shrieks into the sky and starts kicking anything she can find.