As I’ve described in the past, Tavenport is a town framed on three sides by rough mountain ranges, with a sea on the fourth. This makes it a natural stronghold as well as an ideal spot for a seaport. But it also means that any kind of land travel in the area is exceedingly difficult. The mountain paths are steep and covered with dense forests, blocking out the sky at times, and disorienting any would be visitors. I should know, having spent months carefully and well, not so carefully, exploring the area. Remember when I said that the local cleric had used a divination spell to find a child lost in the mountains? Yeah… that child was me. Whoops.
On the plus side, that was my first introduction into the concept of magic on Arcadia. As well as my introduction to Father Tucker. No comment on the latter. Anyhoo.
I turn my attention to my female companion, the woman who had helped me find the soccer ball. She’s walking beside me, a look of concentration on her face, probably because she’s trying her best not to trip. The ground in the area we are currently traveling is anything but flat, with large rocks and roots jutting out at random, and she’s hardly fitted to go mountain climbing. Her attire suggests more a seamstress or other artisanal role, with a blouse, dress and shoes clearly meant for the pavement of a town. Which is odd, I suppose, given her statement that she’d been traveling in the mountains with a companion prior to getting lost.
I set the thought aside, letting my gaze linger a bit more on the woman’s figure. While the shape of her body is mostly hidden behind the looseness of her clothes, something about her face seems strangely nostalgic. It's narrow and long, with sharp cheeks and nose, thin lips and crystal blue eyes; atop her head, jet black hair, silky and trimmed into a pixie cut. I’m certain I have never seen her before, and yet it feels like I have. She’s… pretty.
A sudden gasp draws my attention back to reality, and I pivot away, thinking the woman has caught me staring. Instead, I hear her say, “I’m such an airhead!” And when I look over again, I find she’s palming her face.
“What is it?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
She turns to me, sheepish. “You’ve been helping me all this time, and I didn’t even think to ask your name! How rude of me!”
I let out a chuckle, realizing that’s all it was. “Samuel Becker,” I reply, “And I suppose the shame is mutual, Miss-?”
“Lila. Lila Cedars,” the woman says. Then I see her tapping her chin, as if in thought. “Becker. That name sounds familiar. I thought I heard some people mentioning it.”
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“Probably. My father’s the mayor of Tavenport,” I suggest.
“Oh, that makes sense now. Mayor. I see. He must be a very important person. I’m curious, if you don’t mind me asking, what kind of man is he, your father?”
I ponder the question for a second, then say, “We got off to a rocky start. He was stern and serious. And he had this scary looking face-”
“Oh my.”
“-he was harsh and unreasonable too-”
“Sounds… complicated...”
“-but well, a few things have happened, and he’s different now. Smiles some, laughs even. Him and Mother have been mending fences as well, though I don’t think she really ever held anything against him to begin with. But I guess what I’m saying is, we feel more like, I don’t know, more like a family now.”
“Is that so. How… quaint.”
The dismissal tone of Lila’s reply causes me to look up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble-” I begin, but then I catch sight of her expression. It’s dark, her eyes narrow, her lips pulled taunt. “Miss Lila? Is everything okay? You look… troubled.”
Instantly, the darkness vanishes, replaced by a blushing smile. “Oh, don’t mind me,” she says, “I’m just having some trouble with the area. I’m not used to mountains so wahh-!” Abruptly, she trips, and I managed to reach out just in time, catching her fall.
“Are you okay?” I ask, and when I see her nod, I continue, “Don’t worry, we’re almost there.” And indeed, not more than five minutes later, the outline of a wooden building emerges between the trees. “See?” I point, “That’s the cabin you’re looking for, right?”
“Yes! Oh, thank the heavens!” Lila exclaims, “Thank you, Samuel!”
I nod, leading the way into the clearing and right up the stairs of the porch. “Careful, some of the wood is rotten,” I say, recalling my first visit wherein I almost fell through the steps, and then I go for the door, about to knock. To my surprise, however, I find it already slightly ajar. It creaks open with a light touch, dust flying into the air. I brush it aside, stepping gingerly through.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” I call. My eyes scan around the dim room, cast only in the light slipping through the cracks of the ceiling and the lone window to the side, about a foot and a half in diameter. Decrepit furnishings line the space, where mold has made a home of rotting wood. A table missing a leg, a cabinet door ripped off its hinges, a wooden bucket stained with soot. “Miss Lila, there’s no one here. Perhaps your companion-?”
My words taper off, my eyes having caught sight of something on the ground, tucked away in the shadows. I step closer, peering into the darkness.
The whites of two eyes peer back at me.
It is a person, lying on the ground, a young man, thin, early twenties, with disheveled, dark brown hair. His eyes roll in its sockets, and a gasp escapes his cracked lips. “H-help… me…” And then, his head drops to the ground, his body unmoving.
Behind me, I hear the noise of a door shutting, the click of metal sliding into a lock. Then, the distinct sound of a sword, as it's pulled from its scabbard. I turn, slowly.
Standing there is Lila Cedars, a short blade glimmering in her hand. Gone is any semblance of the endearing airhead, her eyes now sharp and cold like the steel she holds. She looks to me, then the corpse on the floor, then back to me. Then she says, “Well, now that you’ve seen the body, I suppose I can’t let you live.”
She lunges.