“Come with us. We will take care of you now that your family is gone.” The stranger’s voice was dry and without any empathy accompanying the bitter words he was saying. He outstretched his pale arm, lanky, manicured fingers reaching towards me. The angles of his face were sharp, but a soft smile snuck onto his lips.
“How do you know my family is gone?” I asked sullenly. I was nowhere near where I used to live. I couldn't believe that this man had heard of me and my ventures so far away from home. I guess it may have been obvious by my lack of shelter, spending my nights in a random horse stable, coddled by sharp hay and at times, large, unpredictable horses. Maybe it was because of my unruly appearance, platinum hair knotted with thistles.
Though, how he said it, his unemotional tone, the confidence, he knew what happened. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had any part in it.
“You don’t look like you've had much care in a while, and we both know Phelorna and Orris wouldn’t let any of their children be in your state, now would they?”
I bit my lip at the sound of my parents’ names and fought back a sob, barely succeeding. My parents and two older brothers, Philo and Phyre, have only been gone for a few months and the ache was there and it was unimaginable. He was right, though. My family was far from privileged and we had just enough to get us by. Even so, my parents always made sure my brothers and I were fed, clean, and loved. They would be heartbroken if they saw me right now. How did he know that?
“Come with me, Phina. We will make sure that you are safe. We will give you a home once again.”
The man’s hand was still out for me to grab. I looked back at the stable I had been sleeping in, where he had summoned me from. It was several feet back, tucked beneath unkempt foliage. The planks it was crafted from were aged and worn. Although you’d never guess it from the stable itself, the three horses within were treated like royalty. Vrukt, the shiny, white stallion I had grown fond of, peered his head over his stall. He reminded me so much of Anthem, my beloved horse I left at a trusted friend's after I lost everything else. It killed me to leave Anthem behind but if I could barely take care of myself, how was I supposed to give him the life he deserved?
Vrukt gave a snort loud enough for me to hear and he bobbed his mighty head. I pretended that it was a sign of good faith, that he was encouraging me to go. I looked back at the man. If he killed me, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. If he really was going to give me a home, I would take that too. I had nothing to lose. I grabbed his hand.
*********************************************************************
I rebraided my doll’s hair over and over again, until my fingers ached. It was embarrassing for a woman my age to be playing with a doll but it was one of the few things that brought me comfort. The repetitive motion, the nostalgic aspect. It numbed things for a bit.
“Phina, this came for you,” Klaus handed me a piece of parchment with a familiar symbol stained on the front and my name centered, written in flawless calligraphy.
Klaus had been hosting me for awhile, longer than my usual stays. He was not much for words but he was kind, a grand cook, and had plenty of books in his personal library for me to read. He played the lyre beautifully and would sometimes even play me songs until I was deep in trance.
I was used to getting letters from The Buyer by now. The Buyer was the only namesake I knew to use. It was an alias that only covered a fraction of what they did, but otherwise, it was fitting. Usually, a letter meant that The Buyer needed my help with something. I would inevitably pack up my things, travel to the location, do the job, get paid, and then get shipped off somewhere else to do another job.
It was nice to feel useful, but these houses weren’t homes and these people were just people, paid far too much to babysit me. I shook off the negativity, knowing that I was in a better place than where I would be without The Buyer. They made sure I always had a roof over my head and plenty of food to eat. Honestly, anything I asked for, The Buyer would immediately source it for me. I didn’t have a reason to ask for much. It would just be more baggage to move from place to place. Still, I thought about the leather journal tucked in my bag. I had asked my host then, if she had a spare journal I could have. I thought maybe documenting my emotions would make me feel better or at least pass the time. She said she would look around for one. The next day, I woke up to the most beautiful journal I had ever seen. My host said that The Buyer had gifted it to me for all of my hard work and dedication to them.
It was real leather, with a glittering ruby set within an indent on the front. It was beyond anything I had ever hoped for. It probably cost more than it cost to build the home I grew up in.
The Buyer made me feel valuable. They took me in when I had nothing. They saw something in me. I didn’t care much for money but I got plenty of gold in exchange for the work, too. One day, I would save up enough money to go off on my own, get married, have a family, and live normally. But for the time being, The Buyer and the rest of their people were my family and I had a job to do.
I slipped the satin ribbon off the paper and opened it.
Written in unnaturally impeccable penmanship was the name of a local tavern and the words blue envelope. There was no more information than that.
I looked up at Klaus. He adjusted the thick glasses that rested on his large nose.
“Return the item to me and I will get it to the buyer. Your help is greatly appreciated,” he smiled.
“Do I get to stay here for now?” I asked longingly. Very rarely do I get to stay somewhere for more than a few days and some of the homes I’m sent to are just as cold and empty as the stable used to be, the only difference being furniture. At least Klaus’ cottage almost felt like a home and he was pretty enjoyable company.
“For now, yes, of course,” he chuckled before growing serious. “The owner of the tavern. He’s dangerous, Phina. Best not get caught or be prepared for a fight.”
“And we know how good I am at the latter,” I sighed.
Klaus gave me a reassuring smile and took the letter back. “You’ve been up against worse and left without a scratch. Do you suppose you’ll head out now?”
“I’ll stop by for a visit. See what I’m working with. Go back tonight,” I responded with a façade of confidence. I didn’t have much brawn to work with, so dealing with individuals who are all for a fight was not at the top of my list of favorite pastimes.
“Understood. Be safe. I’ll roast a chicken for dinner,” Klaus finished. I nodded, excited for the dinner prospect, somewhat optimistic that I would make it back to eat it.
I headed up to the spare room I’ve been using, and changed out of the simple garb I was sporting to put on my ruffled, midnight blue dress, chosen especially for me by The Buyer because it was “my color” and they wanted me to look young, innocent, and unassuming. It was not my taste and made me look several years my junior, but it did wonders for how I was perceived by others. I was less of a threat in that frilly, little thing.
I slipped my hooded cloak on and tucked my crimson spider bite dagger into the hidden strap, being careful that it stayed flush against my body and didn't nick me or poke through my dress. I snickered at the irony that I was using the same fang that aided in killing my family as my weapon of choice. I ran my hand along the uneven ridges of it and it reminded me of the moment I cut it out of the Ettercap myself. I don’t know why that was the first thing I chose to do after the massacre. I wondered what that said about me. The only thing that says more about me is the fact that I was gone while my family was slaughtered back at home. I could have saved them if I were there, if I had known.
The tavern was local, but it was still a half an hour walk. Klaus’ house was out in the woods quite a ways, so there was a bit of a hike to town. As I walked, I readjusted my curls and flattened the large bow that was always strewn in my hair when I went out and about. Unfamiliar faces darted by, sometimes paying attention to me, sometimes not. I gave a few smiles here and there, trying to seem friendly. I wasn't great with other people. I used to be, but trauma has a way of changing who you are.
“Excuse me,” a woman, no taller than my knee, stopped me as I approached the forked path that led directly into the center of the town, and directly to Shire Hoof Pub, my destination. Her brown hair was messy, and there was an unnerving scar from her ear to her chin.
“Could you spare some change? I have a family to feed.”
Without thinking and before the woman even finished her breath, I pulled out what had to be at least twenty five gold pieces from my side satchel and dropped them in her hands. They clattered loudly as they fell. The noise made her flinch as if she was used to being struck in response. She stared at the funds, mouth agape.
“Feed them well.”
I began walking, not knowing what else to say. I was awkward and often tongue-tied if I wasn’t acting a part. Many of my hosts didn’t hold conversations with me unless necessary and I typically received messages from The Buyer through one-way letters. I was socially rusty. The poor woman did not respond but I could hear the quiet cries and sniffles as she disappeared behind me.
I had never been inside the pub, but I passed by a few times exploring the markets. It was larger than most local buildings, well-kept, and had plenty of business throughout the day. Bodies started shuffling in and out as early as dawn for a drink and a bite to eat.
Before entering, I walked the perimeter, searching for possible exits. It was my routine. “Before you go in, make sure you can get out.” I’d always whisper that when I scouted locations. As a young girl, I did some questionable side-jobs behind my parents’ backs, just to help with odds and ends for us and our livestock. I masked the funds as earnings I made from begging and helping care for other farms’ livestock. I doubted they believed I made so much doing that, but they never said that directly to my face. I learned quite a bit from trial and error during those jobs. I may not have been super strong or smart, but I never made the same mistake twice.
As I meandered around the vicinity of the Shire Hoof, I stopped to idle by the street vendors to look less shady- not that anyone was worried about a five foot three elf in a poofy dress either way.
There was nothing special about the building itself. It was two stories, the second story was probably living quarters for the owner. There was a balcony on the top floor, and a front and back door below. I noticed a metal plate in the dirt near the back with a handle, meaning there was probably a cellar.
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Eventually, I mapped around the surrounding area enough for my liking, and made my way inside. It was late afternoon, and the bar was already bustling with drunks. It was hard to get a read on the place with all of the commotion. It was over-stimulating.
If I am looking for an envelope, I am probably going to want to search places of bookkeeping. Maybe an office?
The first order of business was to get something from the bar so I had a reason to be lingering.
“What can I do ya for?” The young elven woman behind the counter asked me as I approached. We were similar in stature and even looks, minus her darker skin and hair. She was continuously and rigorously working, doing various chores behind the bar while she had a break from other customers. The group that had been bombarding her just moments ago were distracted by a bulky man with a mandolin, playing some catchy tune in the corner. She was using the welcomed distraction as a chance to clean up the mess left behind by the horde.
“Just an ale please, in your smallest mug,” I responded, hoisting myself onto the barstool.
She nodded and began pouring my drink.
“Not many like you are caught here. There must be a good reason. There are better places for you to get a drink than this old tavern.”
“Like me?” I questioned.
“Young… put-together. We are more of a back-alley sort of place.”
I hid the smirk that threatened to appear. If only she knew.
“I was supposed to meet a special someone here.” I looked around for effect. “But it seems I’ve been stood up. I’m a fool.” I forced out an exhale and took a sip of the ale that was given to me, letting the bitter taste numb my mouth. I wasn’t one for a fight but I also wasn’t too bad at thinking on my feet and putting on a show.
“Well, if he suggests here for a romantic meeting, you’re better off without him anyway,” she chirped. I raised my glass in a toast to that and she did the same with an empty glass she was clearing off the bar.
“Stay as long as you like to make the visit worthwhile. The music gets good here at about this time. Bands come from all over to play. Your first drink is on me to make up for the sad soul that stood you up.”
I toasted again, but slipped her coins for the drink and hospitality, despite her generous offer. She nodded apologetically, took the money, and reverted back to cleaning and serving other guests. I rested my chin on my palm, and ran my finger around the rim of my mug with the other hand. I carefully scoped out the room. I’m sneaky, but there were far too many people in the room to get away with digging around.
As the ruckus picked up, I zeroed in on the lip of a staircase, just barely peeking out around a corner. I tried to get a better look at the area around the stairs, but a wall cut off my view.
Before long, the single musician was joined by an entire crew bearing instruments and the floor shook with the rowdy dancing of patrons. I decided on a plan that I hated but thought would be effective. My brain fought me but I sat my drink down anyway, and adjusted my dress again. It was a nervous habit.
My target was dancing poorly, stumbling from a few drinks too much. He was young and also an elf, so us together wouldn’t catch anyone too off guard.
“Dance with me?” I managed to spit out, against every fiber of my being. The elven man looked down at me, gave me a tipsy smile, and held out his sweaty palm. I took it, trying to ignore the moisture, and we began barreling around a small section of open floor. Every time he sloppily spun me, I glanced at the area of interest. The stairs were more clearly in view. Even more surprisingly, I noticed a man relaxing on the stairs, a couple steps up. I was not able to see him before. He was large. He looked human but his teeth were far too sharp. Fangs peeked out from behind his lips. I could see ridges of intense muscle nearly bursting through his shirt.
Each time I was spun, which was enough to make anyone sick, I stole glances of the man. He had to be the owner because of the way he was chaperoning the chaos of the impromptu concert and the way the server cleaned faster anytime he arched his neck to look around the corner at her. At one point during a song, a drunk patron had accidentally wandered too close to him and the mysterious being broke his nose and threw him out without warning or hesitation.
I made a note to myself: Definitely do not want to piss that guy off.
The fast-paced song had stopped and I was able to stabilize from the dizzying encounter.
“Where do you stay?” My dance partner asked when the commotion settled. The band was taking a break.
“I don’t,” I said. He looked confused.
I smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “I’m really sorry about this.”
“Huh-?”
Before he could finish his inquiry, I threw myself back into the unoccupied table behind me. Dirty dishes crashed to the floor. No straying eyes were on me until that moment. Everyone in the pub stopped and looked. I hit the floor, the table tipping down with me.
“How could you lay your hands on me like that?” I yelled and let out the most realistic cry that I could, rubbing my arm which actually did hurt after the fall.
Before the other angry patrons got to him, the man perched on the stairs appeared and swiftly picked him up by the collar. Although my dance partner was a fair bit taller than me, his legs still dangled in front of my face.
“Beating up little girls is bad for business, asshat.”
I tried not to show my distaste for the little girl comment, and continued pretending to recover from the tumble.
Without a second thought, the man dragged the elf outside. I pitied him and felt decently guilty for causing the beating he was probably going to get. I hoped he had a lot to drink that night. Maybe it would help.
My goal was just to get the big man away for at least a minute or two so I could get a closer look at the stairs. I needed to figure out if upstairs was where I should be looking. Going up there was a risk I did not want to take unless I needed to.
I got even more information than I bargained for, though. In the owner’s side pocket was a light blue envelope. It was bulging full of something. I barely caught a glimpse of it as he sped past me with the elf in tow. It must be valuable if he is carrying it on him and not keeping it elsewhere. It being on his person made things far more complicated, but at least it saved me the effort of searching.
“Ah, great,” I said out loud, not bothering to stop myself.
After various witnesses came to my aid, I made it to my feet. The server immediately went to clean up the broken glass caused by the scene.
“Rough day for you, huh?” She said to me as she picked up the mess.
“I guess so. I think it’s probably time I get out of here.”
She nodded and gave me a gentle pat. “Daskin will make sure that guy never bothers you or anyone ever again. I hope your luck turns around. Visit again when it does.”
His name was Daskin. The realization reminded me of the mission. I caught a glimpse of the scuffle just outside and bolted over with intention. Night was approaching but it wasn’t quite there yet. The sky was a soft lilac and still decently bright. A soft breeze ruffled my hair.
“Now scram!”
The bruised and bloody elf didn’t dare disobey the order. He bailed, with an obvious limp, around the building and out of sight.
“Thank you for that,” I said sweetly.
“I’ll start losing money if people like him stick around.” His voice was gruff, with a strange purr behind his words, like that of a beast, not a housecat.
“Still,” I pushed. He didn’t acknowledge me and turned to go back inside.
“Wait-” I stuttered, angry at myself as I was usually smoother. He stopped and turned around, eying me cautiously.
“I’m not from around here. Can you give me directions to the closest inn to stay? I’ll be sure to spread the word of your hospitality.”
He cocked his head but then turned north, towards the base of the mountains that surrounded the area.
I really hope nothing in that envelope is loud.
“Go straight that way. See those bluffs? Right before you hit em, there’s an inn. Pretty crappy but it’s cheap and it’s a bed.”
I saw him in my peripheral vision turn to face me again. I continued gazing in the direction for a moment longer.
“That’s helpful, thank you,” I finally said.
“Spread a good word. Good word is good money.”
He didn’t wait for me to respond before hightailing it back inside. I released the breath that I was unintentionally holding and began the detour to Klaus’ place. I didn’t head directly back in the off chance that someone decided I needed to be chased down. I dipped into the woods, approaching the home parallel to the path I would have typically taken. The stretching shadows of sundown helped hide me. I threw on my hood for good measure.
When I got far enough away, I slipped the envelope out of my cloak. It was not as heavy as it looked and luckily, nothing clanged inside when I snatched it. It seemed to be stuffed with several folded papers, but I dared not open it to confirm. I looked over the surface to make sure everything was secure and hid it once again.
By the time I made it back, it was dark. A few noises made me jump but otherwise, my walk was uneventful. I was almost disappointed in the lack of excitement. Almost.
“Welcome back, Phina,” Klaus greeted me. “Dinner is ready for you. Perfect timing, actually. I finished only minutes ago.” He immediately began serving up golden slabs of poultry and a pile of colorful vegetables. I hadn’t noticed I was hungry until I smelled the food.
Most hosts didn’t pry into my end of the work much. They made sure I had everything I needed for the job and they were the only way I could make any type of contact with The Buyer. Otherwise, they kept their hands and names clean.
I began eating right after Klaus set the heaping plate in front of me, scooping food into my mouth with purpose. After escaping the trance that the fresh meal had on me, I remembered the envelope. I pulled it out and nonchalantly plopped it on the table between Klaus and I. He looked shocked when he saw it.
“I thought you were going back later?” Klaus questioned, quickly slipping the envelope into his jacket and giving it a gentle pat for good measure.
“Ended up being pretty easy to find,” I laughed. It was a laugh of relief and tiredness.
“You never fail to amaze us, Phina. The Buyer sees great potential in you, you know.”
I’ve heard that after almost every job I completed. I didn’t mention that, though. I just smiled and continued eating. After a bit, I pulled off my cloak. The wood stove heated the small cottage very efficiently. It was getting toasty.
“Oh! You’re bleeding!”
I jumped at Klaus’ voice. It took me a moment to see what he was talking about but sure enough, there was a decent trail of blood running down my arm. My foofy dress was already stained beyond repair. I didn’t actually feel the wound until Klaus pointed out the blood. Then, I started to feel stinging radiating from my shoulder. It must have been the broken dinnerware from the table that cut me.
Klaus promptly stood up from the table and dipped into a different room, looking for his medical supplies. I did my best to dab up some of the pooling blood with my dinner napkin. I assumed the napkin was easier to replace than the pelt rug on the floor beneath me.
Klaus expeditiously returned with a woven basket of various items.
“Do we need to get you away from here?” Klaus asked as he tended to me. “I can get you on a wagon in less than an hour.” He poured some sort of alcohol on the cut to disinfect it, forcing a pained groan out of me.
“No!” I said abruptly, catching Klaus off guard. I clarified. “He didn’t notice I took it out of his pocket. I’m fine.”
“You took it out of his damn pocket, Phina? Do you have a death wish?” He gasped. The only time I’ve ever heard Klaus so worked up was when he caught a rat in his bedroom.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Hey, I didn’t get caught,” I assured him. “The boo boo is just from a little mishap during my performance.” There was a moment of silence.
“Well, dear, this boo boo is too deep for me to treat.”
I couldn’t help but grin at his playful mockery.
“I will see to it that someone comes hastily to mend you. Also, we will get a new dress made for you. There is no use in trying to wash this one.”
“Thank you, Klaus,” I said before returning back to the meal.