Hiding within the toppled over remnants of a ship, stranded in sand, with nothing but a small fire to shed light in the middle of the night, the six wait out the sandstorm. Ayra and Leon sat next to each other, on seperate sheets of cloth. Opposite to them, the two thieves were sleeping with rags stuffed into their mouths, along with both John and Aaron, tied up on a wooden post. Their mouths weren’t stuffed but they haven’t spoken a single word yet.
Sand slowly drizzled, like an hourglass, into the ship from the outside, through cracks and leaks in the wooden hull. Scratching from the hull, caused by the sand, echoed throughout the ship, making an eerie noise.
Still with a headache, John looked at his kidnappers, corners of his mouth sunk. He looked around, still trying to make sense of this sight. Outside he had seen what looked like a graveyard of ships, albeit in the middle of the desert.
With dry mouth, he eventually asked. “What is this place?”
“It’s what is left from the last war,” Leon muttered.
“We heard a little of it, but, not all of it,” Aaron said, barely able to keep his eyes open at this hour.
“We weren’t even born back then, so we don’t know all the details.” Ayra remarked, leaning back, lying on the sheet with her arms behind her head. “This country was once known for its strength. These ships. They once flew using larger versions of the stone in my foot.” she explains, lifting her foot.
“What is that gem, anyway?” John rudely interrupted.
“They are stones, just like your blazestones,” Leon said. “You see, we get a lot of meteorite showers in the desert, and their core is made of a crystal.”
Leon points to the violet stone on his partner’s foot.
“With heat, usually generated through steamworks, they can levitate,” Ayra added. “Like your blazestones, the size of these stones matters. But the heat as well.”
John’s eyes sparkled as embers crackled in the fireplace. “Incredible, I’ve never heard of them over in the Kingdom.”
“That’s because they aren’t used over there,” Ayra said. “After the Kingdom destroyed our country, they covered it up, and wanted to never see these stones again. You see, military flying ships were quite effective against their cannons. They couldn’t fire up very well.”
“Such a shame, so much potential was lost, so much research, now gone,” John sulked. “All because of a war…”
The moment he said his last word, he shut his mouth. Regretting what he’d said. Knowing full well that the next war was just on their doorstep.
Nobody uttered another word. Their minds imagining the destruction that would come in future. With their nightmares in head, they went to sleep, waiting out the storm.
In the morning, when the storm had settled, no words were exchanged. Silence still stuck in the air. Ayra and Leon put the thieves and the detective team on separate carts. Going home, to the small settlement.
They eventually arrived, making stop right in front of the Sheriff's house. The kidnappers got off their horses, and were about to walk into the building, as a person steps out.
With the head ducked under the door while walking out. They see the person, dressed in a black uniform. As if it wasn’t warm enough already, the fabric was thick, the top long sleeved, and the trousers reached to the ankles.
Their eyes were drawn to a few badges on the person’s chest. Six stars of gold and a sword-shaped medal in the center of them. They knew it was a high ranking soldier.
The soldier angled down the front brim of his hat. On it, a golden triangle, dead center on the front.
Face hidden by the shadows, the rough voice spoke. “Good timing,” the soldier tilts his head to look at the carts. “I see you have what I came for.”
Out from behind the soldier in black, came the Sheriff. He scratched his nose, underneath which his white mustache tickled him. He buckled up his belt, his belly rested on top of it. A large leather hat sat on his head, casting shadow onto his face, though not covering it.
“Well done you two,” the Sheriff said with a smile.
Out of the store, across the street, ran a woman. The cashier from the other day. “You caught the thieves! Hopefully they’ll be stuck into jail for quite a while after that.” she shouted, running up to Ayra.
Ayra merely scratched her neck with an uncomfortable smile, handing the lady a bag filled with what had been stolen. “Actually, we only brought them back,” she points at John and Aaron, still tied up. “They were the ones who fought them to return you the sandwiches.”
“Oh my,” the woman extorted. “Why are they all tied up then?”
“Unfortunately, these two are responsible for the ugly situation with the Kingdom,” the Sheriff said, while Ayra rushed to his ear, whispering to him.
“I guess I’ll take what I came here for then,” the person dressed in black said, walking up to the carts.
John quickly noticed a sheath, a sword sheath used for a saber, on the soldier’s waist. “Are you taking us to our execution?” he asked, head sunken, in a tone of seriousness.
“You?” the person laughed. “No, I’m afraid not. Though, do believe me, I know many who’d like that.”
The person walked up to the cart with the thieves, and got onto the horse. “I merely came to fetch two stupid soldiers who will receive great punishment when we return.”
Without a goodbye, the person rode away with the thieves.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
A few guards came to help lead both John and Aaron inside the Sheriff’s building. From the outside, it looked like no more than a shack. Wooden plank walls, corrugated metal roof, and small. Yet, from the inside, it was cold. Walls of concrete, and in the back, a cell with up to three beds, a sink, and a bucket.
“Until this war is over, you will remain a prisoner,” the Sheriff said, as the two of them were shackled and lead into the cell. Their equipment stored inside a locked shelf.
“But Sir!” Ayra retorted. “Didn’t you listen to what I told you?”
“I did, and I decided against it, now return to your regular duties and leave us alone for a while. Ok?” The Sheriff said, sitting down at his desk, in a large chair.
A short moment of silence followed as the others left the building, until John asked. “How’d you know it was us?”
“It's hard not to notice when you are exactly as the papers show.”
The Sheriff threw in a newspaper. It was from the third of October, just the other day. On it, printed in black and white, were the busts of both Aaron and John.
John noticed, that his dyed hair didn’t work out. Due to his natural darker blond, the black and white bust of him showed his hair to be quite dark. Making him look even more accurate to the picture than he’d have been without it.
John slumped down his shoulders, holding his head in his hands. “I’m absolutely useless!” He Shouted before going silent, sniffling and wiping his eyes with his sleeves. “Maybe… maybe I really didn’t deserve this title to begin with-”
“Idiot,” Aaron interrupted with a short outburst. “I knew you’d eventually mention it after everything you told me, but that you think of it now, are you serious?”
“It’s true, isn't it though? After the Father’s death, the King needed a new puppet for his plan, and despite my non existent education, and failing every written exam, I still passed. I passed on combat alone… I was a fool to believe that I even deserved this title at all.” He took off the sterling silver badge from his coat and stared at it.
“You certainly didn’t deserve your title because you are particularly smart, that may be true. But I’ve been with you for so long now John, and I can tell you, what you miss in wits, you more than make up for in following your guts. Perhaps you don’t solve your cases in the prettiest way possible, but you do solve them!” Aaron said loudly before calming down. “You helped a lot of people, one especially. You are great at what you do, and don’t think about sulking on me just because we are in a prison now.”
“You say that, but-”
“Listen to your friend, kid,” the Sheriff interrupted. “You two have surely stumbled through this settlement a bit, haven’t you?”
They nod.
“Then you may have noticed that something is missing. A school. The children here, and most adults never went through any kind of proper education. Only home tutoring in the crafts were taught from the parents down to the children. With the exception of a few parents banding together to share their knowledge to each other’s children, nobody here is educated as you’d know it. Yet I, and many others, still have jobs and make the best of it.”
John’s head lifted, leaning back onto the cold concrete wall. He smirked. “Thanks, I guess this entire situation is kind of hitting me harder than I thought.”
The Sheriff looked into his face. His whitened eyebrows curled. “Your smile. I’ve seen it quite often. A smile of someone broken. A liar.”
Aaron astonished, his mind rushing with a sense of realization, recalling all the past times he’d seen John smile or smirk like that before. “John?”
Laying down on the stiff bed, John looked up at the concrete ceiling, staring into thin air. Into his past.
“You remember what I told you about my past, don’t you? I grew up at an orphanage, never having known my parents. The only thing that separated the orphans were their parent’s decision. Whether to drop them off as babies, or to cast them aside when they were slightly older.”
John paused with a gulp.
“Old enough to remember their parents faces.”
Aaron sat up, listening closely. The Sheriff sat in his chair, listening in as well, while pretending to read the papers.
“It was years before the incident. There was an orphan who was a couple of years older than me. He was fairly mature for his age. He’d been keeping an eye out on the younger ones.
It was early in the morning, we just had breakfast, but one seat was empty.
The day before, a new arrival joined us, you see. He was about my age back then, but didn’t say a word. He didn’t even come to eat. Looking back at it, I still can’t imagine his suffering. Being told by their parents that they don’t want them anymore. Remembering that moment like a painting, hung up everywhere. My childish innocent self tried to console him… no… it’s more like I wanted to be thanked, to seem mature. I brought him his breakfast on a tray. Plate with bread and a small cubelet of butter, on the side, a cup of hot choco,” he took a long breath.
“I went to his room, opened the door, and walked inside. He was staring at the blank wall next to his bed. I tried to explain that I had brought him his breakfast, since he wasn’t there, but he stood up, walked towards me and pushed me down. Spilling the hot choco on the floor, and the food with it. The plate, shattered.”
“What’d he do that for?” the Sheriff leans in.
“Well,” John continues. “He shouted at me, explaining to me that he’d been watching a lot of the kids now. He’d realized our main difference. Unlike the pity I had for him, to have been old enough to notice being thrown out and abandoned, he took pity on me. He claimed that he at least was given a chance, his parents didn’t dislike him right away. Instead, I had been a mistake, unloved from the beginning. Perhaps having ruined the life of a worker at the brothel. It shook me, I didn’t know what to say. He just ran out, leaving me there. Not knowing what to think. Then, the boy came in. The one older than me. He had long hair for his age, tied back at the back of his head,” John said, playing around with his own hair.
“It was pitch black too, now that I remember it. Anywho, he’d come to see what the ruckus was about, and found me. Cleaning up the mess, he’d noticed that I was still silent. That’s when he told me about the smile.”
John waited before quoting.
“People can say harsh words sometimes. The world… the world can be harsh too. But simply sulking on the floor won’t do you any good,” John then added. “He said with a smirk.”
“Just smile. Don’t let that kind of stuff bother you.” he finished. “Then he helped me stand up while I helped him clean up. That… those words never had any meaning to me. I didn’t understand yet, I was too young. But then the incident came by and I realized the meaning more than ever, as I saw many friends perish in sorrow, ignorant to help themselves, too busy by what they’d witnessed. They couldn’t move on…”
“And so you smile,” Aaron whispered. “And you smirk, with only one intention, of acting tough and confident, when really, underneath, you are weak and unsure.”
“Hey now,” John stood up, shouting in a slightly angry voice before dropping silent. “It's more complicated than that, but in a sense, yes. That smile, that gift was the thing that allowed me to survive. But I guess every now and then, that smile can turn around.”
The room stayed quiet, nobody uttering a word, everyone lost in thought of that story as John simply thought and asked to himself. “Nathan, are you still alive?”
In the next chapter, John will continue to smile, as he figures out a way to save himself from the boredom inside the prison cell with steak! Follow him on his feast of an adventure in the next chapter of Steam’s Shadow!