Work 7 : Distance

Distance

 

  The clouds of mid-October filled the sky, blocking the sun and existing over the inhabitants below with an overbearing, seemingly permanent presence. With their presence, they introduced the world to a familiar emotion, a feeling not uncommon in the shadows of homes, cities, and hearts.

 

Bleakness.

Melancholy.

Dread.

 

 That is, at least, how the wanderer that tread the fields interpreted it, clutching his coat closer to his chin with his free hand, the other clutching a small sack and sheathed short sword. Signing, he continued his journey, watching the warmth of his breath collide with the cold air and rise as frosted leaves crunched beneath his boots.

  A harsh winter would be coming, and the wanderer was feeling quite lucky to have them, the brown tattered boots. As a traveler, it was almost guaranteed to run into bandits and thieves, all who’d certainly make use of each of piece of clothing they’d steal from your body and each bit of equipment if your pouch of coins failed to satisfy their hunger.

Thankfully, the path he’d gone was clear at the moment, leaving him with peace of mind along this cold path, occasionally waving to farmers and shepherds who’d smile back as they worked, haggling with merchants who sought to gain rare riches or exchange information for favors, and families in carriages traveling between towns.

  A rare event to stumble on for wanderers in the woods like himself were small huts, most times occupied by peasants who ever eager to assist folk on a journey in an attempt to gain acknowledgment and blessings from the heavens above.  They would’ve certainly deserved it, with the kindness they show. Another side of these rare events were these huts being abandoned, a token of comradery between other homeless travelers as a means of safety above unwalled nature before government soldiers would be sent to break them down.

What the wanderer currently needed, however, was a town. In a town, he’d have the chance for better resources and a chance to wash himself, something peasants couldn’t often afford to a stranger. And when approaching that town, he’d be somewhat welcome, given the red carpet compared to a city, with each resident judging and barring him from establishments as they do everything in their power to maintain a “perfect image”. The other issue of a city was the fact that many gave birth to an seedy, underground, ready to swallow the rejected in their despair, filled with filthiest of souls that failed to mask it with pouches of coin. For someone with little in his belongings, he was a prime target to be pulled into scams, used as fodder, and left to fend for his life until he died or put distance between him and his assailants. It was always nasty business but never unfamiliar.

With that all being thought through, relief washed over him once he saw a multitude of buildings spread out over an area, none immensely high like a skyscraper, and none so close together like that shops of a city. No, this was a town with breathing room, introducing him to what he hunted for; an inn with smoke rising from its chimney.

“Primrose.” The traveler smiled, reading the sign before politely knocking on the entrance and gingerly stepping in as a bell rung above.

The lobby was small, homely, and smelled of cinnamon. Behind the counter, a door swung open as three individuals came forth; a thin balding man with a bright smile, a mature woman with greying hair and eyes that searched the traveler’s soul as she mimicked the man’s smile, and a younger woman, whose eyes were reluctant to look toward the traveler’s, a bright flower resting above her ear, blooming from her curls.

“Hello and welcome.” The man spread his arms proudly. “Welcome to the Primrose. How may we help you?”

The traveler nodded, keeping his smile. “Hello and thank you. If it’s no trouble, I’d like a room and bath with some of your hottest water.” He removed his straw hat, his wild hair spreading from his ponytail.

“Of course. Come on in.” The man waved inward. “My name is Manuel. This is my wife, Jia and our lovely daughter -”

“Mya.” The young woman finished, still away as much as she could. “Who might you be?”

Manuel glanced to his daughter, looking somewhat stunned under his smile. Nodding and smiling to show no offense was taken, the traveler answered. “Adina.”

“Interesting name.” Manuel said, his eyebrows furrowing. “East Islander?”

“No, no.” Adina shook his head. “Only by descent. I was born and raised in the Southern Mainland, but my mother is from the East Islands and my father a Midlander.” Reaching into his bag, Adina pulled out a handful of silver coins. “Will these be enough to include a meal in my request?”

Manuel’s eyes sparked with excitement, hungrily looking over the money proposed. “Of course, of course!” Turning to his family, he extended a palm to receive the payment. “Run this fine gentleman a bath and prep his dinner, please.”

From there, they parted, the two women headed towards a door each while Manuel counted each bit of currency, moving robotically this was something they performed regularly. Gesturing to Adina, Jia spoke. “This way, young man.” They made their way through the back door, which led to an open courtyard, and into a small shack that stood in the center. Jia walked to the back wall and turned a creaky knob, causing a faucet above to shake violently before hot water spurt from its mouth, filling the tub quickly. Once it was near its brim, she turned the knob once again and pointed to the nearby cabinet.

“We have soaps and things to clean with but nothing like the King’s assortment.” She jested.

“We can only wish to compare to one who bathes in gold, such as he.” Adina smiled politely. “Any amount of soap is a luxury to me, thank you.”

“You’re certainly kind, young sir. Would you like assistance or shall you be alone?”

“Thank you but I’ll be alone for now.”

“Then I shall leave you to it.” Jia bowed somewhat clumsily before turning and exiting the room.

Adina sighed and began pulling off parts of his outfit; his prized boots, tattered scarf, cloak, hole-covered shirt, frayed pants, and his heart pendant that clung tightly near his neck.

The heat, while painful at first, soothed his sore joints and mended his tired body as he dunked his body in the tub, running the floral smelling soap across his body, detangling his hair, scrubbing his scalp, and removing the dirt from the less presentable places of his body with the fragmented pieces.

 It was minimal but minimal was enough to leave him pleased and smelling better than he had in quite some time as he put his hair into a top-knot and died his body with one of the towel hung by nail. The second he changed into the spare clothes he kept in his sack and he opened the door, Lia’s firm hand pulled him along to the dining room, where he was fed an uncomfortably sweet stew before being pushed along to the courtyard to meet Mya.

“Overwhelmed?” Mya asked with a small smirk, carrying a bundle of fresh sheets as she led him to the bedrooms.

“Completely.” Adina admitted, rubbing his tongue against his teeth, still feeling clumps of sugar stuck to his molars.

“They’re decent enough people, not very great with people. You might just be their favorite guest, having bathed without complaints of the old shed and making through the whole dinner of Mother’s s Sweet Meat stew. Not many are that courteous.”

“It wasn’t so bad.” Adina shrugged. ‘Compared to what little people can have, it’s really appreciated.”

“Hm. You talk with a certainly of a rough life. Is that where your tattoo and earring came from?”

Adina’s blood ran cold as a hand instinctively rose to touch the side of his neck, fingers gingerly resting on the bat wings, the pink number three resting between them. Had she seen it clearly? Did she know what it meant? Has she now planned to contact the proper authorities? How careless he was to forget to place his scarf once again around his neck.

“It’s just something a bunch of kids n’ I did. Young stupid stuff as we lived in the Slums and survived together.” He said quietly.

Her face shifted, showing a frown of empathy.

“I know what you mean. Slums of any downtown section can scar kids and force em to form gangs or die out.” Mya entered the room, which was cozy and somewhat wider than he had expected, with a twin sized bed back wall, a couch, and a wide window between the framed images on its maroon walls. “A constant battle with choices of survival or death, never the good or bad that the Elite preach about.”

“That’s a fact. I’ve made choices I haven’t been too keen on.”

“As have we. I know about that only briefly though, only stayed until I was fourteen. Papa got enough money then to buy this abandoned motel. And nine years later, here we are, lucky enough to stay.”

“My, my.” Adina nodded as he sat on the bed, placing his blade and travelsack by the foot of the bed. “One of the cleaner ways to get out.”

“No foolin’.” Mya huffed as she placed the sheets down near him. “Nuff’ on thinking of the past, though. I’ll leave you to your night, stranger.”

“May yours be well, thank you.” Adina offered his most pleasant smile, feeling warmth bubble within as he received a genuine smile from Mya in return before he was left to his thoughts, the door closing gently.

  For a spell, all was quiet and peaceful as he unsheathed his blade, conjuring a small whetstone and water with it, reciting prayers under his breath as he ground the edges to a satisfactory sharpness, moving methodically. Just as he reached the point of his weapon, a noise sounded just outside of the window.

  It was faint, almost inaudible in the way that would make one question if it had occurred, chocking it up to the imagination or something to shrug off. No, the faint noise carried half of the weight of a person, a thin individual, one that would’ve followed up a near inaudible first step with a silent second step to balance themselves. They aimed to be weightless, as close as they could become to such an idea. As the roofing was slanted, they were at the very edge, possibly waiting for a cue to flip inside.

  Sheathing his sword, Adina inched slowly away as another noise came, this being a knock at the door. One single knock, loud enough to alert anyone in the immediate vicinity but quiet enough to not disturb a neighbor. A familiar kind of knock done by authorities, this being their warning before barging into homes.

  Having done this song and dance before, the traveler knew he only had a handful of second before fragmented wood would fly to meet him and handcuffs would latch onto his wrists. So, swiftly, he moved and opened the door, finding a man with a clean face and sharply parted hair standing before him.

“Hello there. Might I speak with you for a spell?” The man inquired politely, hand gently grazing over the iron fist badge on his breast pocket. An officer. There’d be no real choice whether he’d be invited in or not.

Cursing his luck, Adina opened the door wider with his widest smile. “Why certainly. Come on in.” The officer nodded and stepped carefully within. “How might I address you, sir?”

“Braddock. Simply Braddock for now.” As Adina opened his mouth to speak, the officer raised his hand. “Might you have a drink? I’m quite parched.”

“Sure, sure. I’m bound to have something.” The kind traveler waved over, taking a small jug and cup from his bag. He poured carefully as the officer flicked his hand, causing a cigarette to appear between his fingers.  “A drinker?”

“Not often but on a cold night like this, I must make an exception.” Braddock shrugged before pointing the cigarette to his host. “A smoker?”

  Adina hesitated, a pause that lasted several milliseconds, just long enough for a fragment of a tear to birth in his right eye and a twinkle of realization to appear in the officer’s, long enough for the first breath of a gasp to enter the small space of his lips and flood the crevices of his teeth. The pause, as small as it was, damned him. It was only matter of time before Braddock acted now.

“No.” He waved the offer away. “I haven’t done so at any point so I shouldn’t start now, I fear.”

“I can respect that.” Braddock nodded, placing the cigarette on the table and accepting the small cup from Adina.

  They sat in silence for several moments, the traveler allowing his eyes to explore the room as his ear was focused on the window, which remained silent but not vacant. Calmly, Braddock lifted this cup to his lips, taking a sip and soon coughing in surprise.

 “Good Lord, that’ll make a dead man dance.” He muttered as he forced himself to drink the rest. “Does the body good, though. Feeling warmer already.”

Reclaiming his cup and placing his belongings back into his knapsack. “It keeps my mind alive and keeps me warm, no matter temperature.”

“That’s certainly doing that.” The officer nodded before growing still and serious. “Adina, the Bat. Wings of Rebellion. Brother Night of the Four Beasts.” Adina paused, feigning ignorance and confusion as his head, amusing Braddock. “Come now, I had a hunch upon walking in and you’ve only confirmed it as the moments went on. I’m only certain now.”

“Oh? May I hear what might’ve condemned me?”

“Certainly.” Braddock smiled. “First, when I walked in the door, you made no harsh attempt to tell me your name. I cut you off intentionally and you made no rush to give me your name. A bit suspicious but fitting if one didn’t want their name given. Most people shudder and sweat when they see a badge, but you remained cool and calm, like this was nothing new. Second, as I am sure you know, your eyes fluttered with pride and joy as I offered you the cigarette. Used as currency in prison, I’m sure you basically saw gold in my hands. Ready for the last?”

Adina chuckled. “Sure, sure.”

“Your right ear keeps twitching unconsciously, scoping out the partner I have on the roof. You also have small scars on your hands, I noticed when you poured, from years of combat. If your reputation precedes you, this might not be a simple arrest.”

“My, my.” Adina leaned back, laughing as he looked to his hands. “What happens now? You and your partner going to pull out handcuffs?”

“No, you don’t have to worry about my partner. I have a new solution for tonight, a fair one.” The officer stretched his arms to the sky. “I’m in no mood for a long, arduous struggle so I came with my new, patented Smokestack Capture.”

“Smoke... stack Capture?” I’m assuming you’ll be burning something.”

“Correct. Please, don’t use it so casually, I’d like to patent the idea and earn the profit before making it public.”

“Fair enough. So, what’s the plan?”

  Braddock reached into his coat and pulled out several more cigarettes and placed them on the table, neatly forming a small pyramid. “This will be short. What we will basically be doing be doing is aiming to land a harsh blow on the other before any of the smoke reached the ceiling.  If I strike you, you come with me and add to my repertoire of escaped convicts. You win and I move on like we’d never met and I’m still hunting your trail.”

“And what happens if we failed to land a decisive blow before the ceiling is met with smoke?”

“We snuff out the flame and start again. Simple enough?”

“Yes. This should be fast, for sure. We’re going all out from the second you light it, yes?

“Nothing less than, my friend.” The officer nodded, placing the pack of cigarettes into his coat and pulling out several matches. “This room is about twenty-two and a half feet high. Nearly 7 meters. Keep that in mind.”

“Noted.” Adina nodded, adjusting his body, slightly extending a hand toward his weapon. The seconds that passed were tense, the air thick with a bloodlust that spilled from both parties, strong enough to block the room as its own burning smoke. Braddock struck the matches once with no success, twice with a partial spark, and the third creating the bright flames be aimed for. Carefully, the officer carried the flames to the bundle.

  Then it began. The millisecond after the flames danced in the cigarettes, Braddock’s feet flew through the air, his body horizontal as he easily and skillfully held himself with one hand. Adina has only just enough time to lift his weapon, blocking the attack with the hilt of his blade.

Smoke distance to ceiling: Twenty-one feet and two inches away

  Pushing against the officer weight, Adina leapt back and drew unsheathed his short sword, slashing at his adversary to increase the distance. Braddock moved elegantly, swiftly flipping to his feet and lunging forward again, a blade extending from his wrist.

Smoke distance to ceiling: Nineteen feet and ten inches away

  Adina deftly blocked the blade, quickly dashed to the left, and swung with all his might, aiming to remove the officer’s arm. Braddock’s arm twitched, releasing another jagged blade from his elbow, precisely blocking Adina’s strike as he flew past and rolled forward.

Smoke distance to ceiling: Seventeen feet and five inches away

  Spinning his body and raising his leg, the traveler stamped down, grazing the officer’s forehead during his timely retreat. The officer then rose slightly, launching his armed limb upward, just barely missing Adina as face. There it became a flurry of near misses, similar to a dance of capoeira, as each party swung and aimed for a kill blow, their attacks humming as their weapons tore through the air.

Smoke distance to ceiling: Nine feet and two inches away

  The near misses continued for just a bit longer before Braddock dodged and interrupted a stroke from Adina by kicking him in the chest, sending him back to the wall. The furniture shook with the impact as Braddock knelt down to prime a killing blow.

Smoke distance to ceiling: Four feet and five inches

  Braddock thew himself forward, his blade pointed forward extended, looking akin to a beast with eyes of certainty on its kill. It was all too familiar. And because it was, Adina knew how to react to this monster. Instead of evading to the side or ducking, Adina rushed forward, his arm bent at the elbow. The traveler charged with as much power as he could muster, stopping Braddock short with his arm, placed a hand on his shoulder, and quickly ran his blade through his hand and through the officer.

Smoke distance to ceiling: One inch and five centimeters.

The officer gasped, coughing as blood spurt from both mounds and splashed onto the table, snuffing out the flames as the smoke finally brushed against the ceiling. Braddock was the first to speak after a spell of silence.

“Well.” He grunted, grabbing Adina’s arm, and throwing himself back, freeing himself from the sword but opening his wound to a greater extent doing so. Laying on the ground, he smirked. “That settles that.”

“Is it truly settled?” Adina asked frankly, fling the blood from his weapon.

“For us? For now. Pardon me for a moment.” Braddock pursed his lips together and whistled a faint note.

Soundlessly, a shape flew through the room, a blur that remained unrecognizable through Adina’s cone of vision.

And there she was, the faint noise he had heard earlier, now standing tall beside the officer, dressed in the same official garb, her hair pulled back into a stylish bun.

“You failed.” She said curtly, her serious demeanor making her appear more mature beyond her years.

“I did. Might you assist me, Sabrina? I fear this wound is a bit more than I expected.”

“If I must.” Sabrina smiled, her hard expression softening as she crouched down and lifted to his feet. “What a truly useless partner you are.”

“That, I am.” Braddock grinned weakly. “Shall we?”

“Wait.” Adina interjected. “Before you depart, and forgive me if I’m pushing my luck, but said something that caught my attention.”

“Go on.” Braddock pressed after a short pause.

“You said things were settled here for you and I. Us specifically.” The traveler sheathed his blade and bowed. “Forgive me but do you have tasks with others as well?”

Sabrina chuckled. “Ah. You’re asking if Braddock or we as a group have located the other Beasts. Curious of their whereabouts as of now.”

How perceptive she was.

“Yes. I truly ask for that if you might be able to share it.”

Braddock sighed. “I cannot tell you were they are. I will tell you that we have reason to assume we found the location of Sasha the Goat and Noth the Crocodile.” His head tilted to the side, eyes glancing to Adina. “You’re a determined one. I have no doubt you’ll be flying high to their skies. Just watch for our treacherous winds.”

  And with that, they became a large blur of darkness as they silently flew through the window, barely stirring the contents of the room with their escape. Silence filled the area as Adina was once again alone, only now remembering to bandage his hand with a part of the torn sheets as binding, his liquor used as an antiseptic.

For the remainder of the night, he slept lightly, clutching his sword in case the officer came once more, going against his word. None came, thankfully, and when the rays of sunshine broke through the horizon, the traveler gathered his few belongings and departed into the world once again. *