Deryk floated around the large table in the center of the kitchen with a cleaver in hand, collecting all manner of spices and ingredients for the work area. His head perked up, as he heard the door open outside and the sound of a small person walking up the stairs. He continued preparing the foods for tonight, taking several roots and tubers from a sack and placing them onto the table as well. Grabbing a large wooden board from the wall, he slid it on top of the stone surface of the table.
And then, setting several of the roots onto it, he began gently hacking away at them with the cleaver, shoving the cut cubes to the side before taking the next. As he worked, his ears followed the sound of a door closing upstairs and then of small steps coming back down the stairs again, through the bar and now into the kitchen. Turning his head he looked at his new employee, now in clean clothes and shoes. “Ah, very good. Aline did a good job.”
“Thank you for the clothes!” said Esper, walking up to the floating man.
“Don’t thank me, consider it an investment on my part,” said the man, bowing his head and waving his hand. “We wont open for another half hour, give or take, so you can sit down and wait until then.”
The girl was busy staring at the man's boots, the tips of his toes just barely touching the surface of the stone floor. “How do you do that?”
Returning to his work Deryk answered “I am gifted with flow magic, a sub-element of water.” He grabbed another root and began chopping it. “There are six elements, yes?”
Esper shrugged, she had no idea what those were, let alone how many of them there are.
“Well those are the so-called prime elements.” He slid his arm across the table making room for a new vegetable. “But each prime element has sub-categories. Flow is for example a sub-element of water. It belongs to water, but it isn’t water in and of itself. Another one would be ice for example, lots of that in the far north.”
“So how many are there?”
“I’d be hard pressed to say, I’m sure the scholars at Erstel or in Adelina could say for certain. But it’s a fair amount and there are always new niches popping up here or there.”
The floating man gestured down to his feet with the cleaver. “Many things can flow. Water in a river, air in a current, stone in a landslide, even people in certain senses, when they work. With some clever workarounds that perhaps the gods never quite intended, I am able to do this. Not that they ever intended for me to have his blessing either way.” Deryk tapped his head with his free hand, looking at the girl. “Think outside the box and you’ll often find ways to make life easier.”
Esper nodded, not quite sure she understood. Something still puzzled her though. “Don’t you need a circle?”
“Yes, I suppose a touched could do so without one. But I need one,” said the strange man, a splatter of juice from the tuber he cut hitting his white apron, layered above the long purple robe. Feeling that the girl was still looking at him, he lifted up his sleeve on his left arm. The arm itself below the long sleeve was almost as thin and skeletal as the girl’s own, fitting the man's pale and strangely sickly formed body. Sitting high on the man's upper arm was a circular sigil, with the same design as the one on the wall, carved deeply into the flesh.
Seeing the curiosity in her eyes, the man went on “I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Esper nodded, her curiosity not entirely satisfied. But she didn’t want to upset the man who was so nice to her. Looking down at the table, she walked closer to it “Are these mushrooms?”
“They’re tubers, many different kinds grow out of the cliff-side in some places between Sechstel and Achtel all year round.” The man slid a piece towards her and slowly chopped it in half, showing the yellow inside. “They’re very healthy, but never eat them uncooked. Not only are they not great tasting, but they’re unhealthy if you eat them raw.”
“What about meat?” asked the girl.
“Well meat is mostly produced near the top, at Zweitel, and we buy it from them. But we don’t get a lot, so most of it gets chopped and ground into sauces so we can stretch it out for everybody. Except for some fatty cuts. I also wouldn’t recommend eating it raw.” The man continued working on the preparations for the upcoming rush and Esper stood there silently, trying her best to watch the man's work and techniques. Soon enough a rattling of bottles came from out behind the bar, Aline having apparently returned and begun her work as well.
Something in Esper’s mind whispered to her however, that vague voice that speaks wordlessly to her intuition and heart. A cold sting in the skin just below her neck made her uneasy, spiking down to the bones buried beneath. A wordless call, pulling her attention towards the door. It told her she needed to go. To rise to the top of the chasm, before it was too late. They were coming. A sharp smack of the cleaver on the table caught her attention, her head shooting back, as the man finished chopping the last of the roots.
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Ignoring that feeling that she had had, Esper continued her concentration on the cooking process, determined to learn everything that she could.
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The bridge had already begun to hang loosely on one side. Ava’s arm ached relentlessly, the muscle worn and sore. But she never slowed her sawing motions with the dull knife against the thick, winding ropes. She knew there was little time to lose. They would be here soon. Rubbing her sweaty face against her sleeve, she continued. A loud snap rang out as the next rope let loose and the bridge swayed now, still attached, but sagging deeply to the side.
Ava looked up, as the last of the daylight died out, taking a moment to catch her breath and let her heart sink down into her stomach at the sight of the newly encroaching darkness. She had been working non-stop since they got here, but the ropes were incredibly thick and heavy made, so her old knife did little to whittle through them, especially as it grew duller with every one of the waxed ropes, each as thick as her own leg. It wouldn’t be much longer until they arrived, it wasn’t a long walk from Achtel to here, especially if you didn’t have to worry about things like exhaustion or comfort.
An excited hiss rang out from behind herself and she set back to work. She knew they were rising up this very second. Bloody gestalts lurching out of burnt homes and retching themselves free from dark holes and crevices that they hid in during the bright hours, waiting with hungry eyes. The enchanted lanterns on this side of the bridge sprung to life, giving birth to new light. The bright orange hue bounced off of the woman's knife, which had become coated with the waxy resin it sliced through, shimmering oddly with warped reflections. The lanterns on the other side however, did not begin to shine.
There were two ropes left, as far as she could tell, that held the bridge in place and she had already begun work on the first. Both of her hands clamped around the blade of the knife, she pulled it back and forth quickly over and over, letting the small cut grow deeper and deeper into the rope. Smaller twines snapping aloud, as the bindings they created were breached. Ava worked and worked. The ren sat behind the woman, its head long neck turned around to the right and resting on its back, staring at her with its left eye.
It was brutally exhausting work for the woman, who was used to long, hard hours, but nothing quite so physical as this prolonged sprint of effort. She had already lost all track of time, as she had been working and now that the daylight had vanished, this was only exacerbated. Did it take ten minutes to cut through the first rope? A half hour? More? She didn’t know and didn’t pause to think about it. Eventually however, she reached that specific point where the strands holding it together gave way under the weight of their own taut pull.
The rope let out a loud crack as it snapped free from the posts, whipping out into the abyss. The bridge lurched down further sideways, still connected, but already tilted too far down for any living person to cross. Ava hit the blade of the knife against the last knot and began slicing through it with fervor. She knew they could still cross over this bridge, even if it was hanging sideways. It wouldn’t even slow them down that much. It was all or nothing. Her body burned with soreness and her eyes stung from the sweat that had dripped down into them.
She let out a loud, half scream, venting her frustrations, her arms never stopping their work. As they grew weaker, she began leaning forward with the weight of her body, helping the knife sink deeper, it was somewhat more awkward to cut like this but worked more effectively with the little energy she had left. Her panicked fury was only intensified, as a gust of wind came blowing past her, rising from the abyss below. A pungent, sour smell of dead things came with it. She didn’t hear any screams or wails, there was only the smell.
Looking across to the other side as she worked, she noticed that the lights on the lower side of the bridge still hadn’t begun burning at all. That made sense, they were connected to the city and if the lights were off there, then the lights would be off here. The last of the daylight was gone now and her vision was limited to the little glow the two lanterns on her side of the bridge emitted into the night. Returning her eyes to the knot, she went on with her work, the knife sinking deeper and deeper into the rope. Slight snaps and twangs coming out, as the last twines began to snap from the pull of the weight of the bridge.
The smell had begun becoming almost unbearable, her eyes stinging from the acridness of it. Ava’s eyes turned to the sideward bridge, from which she now heard the splatting of bare meat slapping against wood. Her heart raced, giving a final kick of energy to her arms. Then she heard it, a gentle breath from the night, preluding the form that appeared at the edge of the light she was in, staring at her with wide, white, glossy eyes. A small girl with spiral tattoos covering the dark skin on her face, a stained and filthy tattered white sheet around her body.
It reached its arm forward, encroaching into the light. Its rotting fingers stretched outward, grasping for something just before it. Reaching for her. A crack of a whip shot out in the dark, as the last rope gave way beneath her knife in an instant, as the weight became too unbearable to hold itself up. Ava jumped back in fright, as the construction barreled away down into the darkness on the other side. A sharp wail vanishing into the mist below. A series of loud crashes and snaps, of wood striking rock and stone in the not so far distance across from her.
An excited hiss came from behind her and she stood there catching her breath, her eyes wet and red. Her burning, numb arms dangling loosely at her sides, the sweat soaked sleeves of her filthy dress sticking to her skin.