Are you made of stardust too?

The question reverberated in her head. No. Not just in her head. She could have sworn it echoed in the hollow as it repeated its guise. When he asked that, a white noise clouded her audio in which she could hear static pops and scratches beneath the familiar tone.

Miraye had already drawn her gaze away from his form by this point, clutching her cloak closer although it were a protective shield. This was not to be avoided. Ignored, yes, but Tic had his own right to be curious. As hard as she tried to hold a grudge against him for bringing up the subject, she couldn't. She was the one who initiated this moment after all. She had intruded upon a painful memory. It was very well negotiable that he would do the same for her. Wouldn't she have done the same?

An infinity of images and voices welled up inside her.

Somewhere worlds above her, she could hear his quiet words. It processed as a polite apology like one she uttered some moments ago. But she was too far lost to reply, pulling the sheet over her head and curling into a fetal position.

“I didn't mean to...” Tic's voice wavered off. It seemed she had shut him off completely now and a twinge of guilt stung his chest. He buried his head into his arms, shuddering.

Night continued on. Now and then a lost creature would crawl into the borders of the wooden enclosure, sniffing and scratching at its bark. Tic would pick out some crumbs from his rations and flick the morsels towards the hungry animals. This helped ease the regrettable feeling the boy began to suffer from as he watch the creatures escape with food in their mouths.

It was almost an hour when the inanimate girl began to stir under the cloak. She slowly slid the cover away from her eyes, keeping the rest of her body buried. Tic could tell her arms were crossed over her chest while she stared above her, concentrating on something invisible.

“I was young,” she whispered, her words muffled more so by the fabric constricting her lips. “About ten. I'm not too sure. But it was during the autumn of my childhood, before one steps into the next phase.

“I had already been learning simple things before then. Trivial enchantments. It was in my blood all along. But it was decided I would be a Hisheme priestess to further advance m skills. So I was sent into the mountains. I did not like it. It was always cold. I never liked the snow too much.”

She swallowed, her mouth parched.

“I was under the watch of the other elder priestesses in our convent. They were very strict. I would always get in trouble if my mind wandered off during services. But they taught me well. They cared despite the lashes and the chores, I could say.

“After some years, I came back home. No longer a child.”

“Family?” Tic muttered.

She paused, closing her eyes shut. A crease appeared between her brow.

“I had... someone. I thought I could trust...”

Her chest tightened and relaxed at the same time.

Finally, she forced away the conflicting memories and set her sight to reality. She looked over at Tic who quickly broke whatever visible connection he had over her.

“I can't sleep, actually,” she sighed and sat up. “I'll take watch for now.”

He hesitated for a moment. “Are you...?”

She smiled, trying to convince him that it was fine.

Reluctantly he settled on the floor, his hands tucked under his cheek while lulled to slumber by the indigo bloom's hypnotic dance. His breathing transformed into slow, deep paces signaling he had lost his consciousness from the world. Miraye gently pulled his cloak over his shoulder and observed how his mouth slightly parted or the way his form would twitch.

She bent forward and tucked a stray lock behind his ear before resting her back against the hollow. Looking out into the darkness, a forest of moonlight caressed the fallen leaves below. Shadows of animals flit to and from sight. They cried to each other, surveying the premises and requesting for their mates to follow.

She raised her vision to the stars and the moons. All she could think of were his kind gray eyes. She coughed, wiping the ebony liquid away from her lips.

The wind howled leaving her with an indescribable loneliness.

This Small Abandon

They had been walking in silence.

As they traveled further into the forest, the temperature had dropped considerably. The branches and leaves that separated them from the sky had hidden their view of the stars and the moons. All that was for certain now was that night had fallen and they were surrounded by creatures they could not see. Their chirps, their howls and whistles echoed. A faint rustle, a sign of foreign movement, could be heard every time they hiked over a fallen log. On the rare occasion, they would gaze back into glowing, peering eyes above them before they disappeared with one blink.

Miraye shivered, rubbing her arms.

“The first thing I'd like to do when we get there,” she thought to herself while kicking away a pine cone, “is take a hot bath”.

They had to leave immediately. In their rush, she only managed to wipe the blood off with a damp cloth from the tavern. But she still felt uncomfortably tainted as she longed to wash the grit from her hair and dig out the traces of flesh and deceased life under her nails.

On top of that, every part of her illicit a cry of silent pain when she stretched out her limbs. She was covered in dried wounds that opted to reopen if she pushed her skin to the limit. Tic had used up of what he could do with the young girl. Not to mention, he had already resurrected her from death – any other healing methods were inconceivable.

She didn't want to appear weak.

After what seemed another eternity of wandering through the woods and following the S.I.N.K. member, Miraye reached out and gently grasped Tic by the shoulder. He had flinched at contact and as though reminding himself of who he was with, eased his posture before turning to face her. There was a perplexed expression in his eyes lit by the ghostly atmosphere of the moons above and the flare in his hand.

“We've gotten as far as we can at this point. We should set up camp,” she suggested.

“Yeah,” he replied, quiet and a little distant.

They had found cover in the hollow of a large tree nearby. It felt even colder within. Despite that, Miraye still shed off her cloak. Her bones rattled at the feel of chilled wind against her skin.

“Do you think we should make a fire? It might attract some unwanted attention...”

“Shhh. Watch,” she instructed him.

Miraye closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of the soil and dried leaves beneath her. She lifted her head and exhaled gracefully into the sky and raised her palms off the forest floor. A small indigo flame bloomed at the spot. It made no signs of an ordinary flame as no smoke fluttered from its licks and no burning aroma from its waves. It spread warmth to every corner of the wooden cave and lit the smallest crook.

She slipped off her glove and waved her hand over and through the flame.

“It won't hurt you,” she noted, not looking up at him as she did the same with her other hand.

Reluctantly, Tic followed suit.

“It feels like feathers,” he awed as he cupped over the fire. “How'd you...?”

“Someone taught this to me long ago. We won't have to worry about anyone spotting it since this light will only be visible to us.”

She didn't want to say that this was the first time she actually tried the spell since her childhood. He might ask her of who it was that gave her this skill. Curious to know if he was sharing her reckoning, she stole a glimpse of him behind her hair. Tic was smiling to himself in a small astonished way as he continued to run his fingers over the indigo bloom. Considering he had been engulfed in flames earlier, it must've been a relief to play with fire that was comfortable to human touch.

They unpacked some necessities for the night. Water. Food. It felt rather pleasant to fill her void again after a full day of physical feats. The two consumed their rations under the noises of the unseen creatures, both seeming to reflect on the day and where the future may lay.

Miraye was now nested underneath her cloak, staring into the indigo. Tic had volunteered to take watch for the first round that night which she was grateful for. Even though she had supplied her body with nutrients, there was no denying that the last of her magic had drained her. She needed to replenish with rest.

But she couldn't sleep. She was beyond exhaustion to do so.

She looked up at him. It took him a while before he finally noticed she had been staring at him. His face twitched briefly.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters, Tic?” she asked.

Army of Me.

Beyond the wall, men of the village were pelting stones and rubbish at the Guardians, who unsheathed their weapons and let their staves fly. Villagers climbing up the platform fell quickly as electricity shocked them to the ground. A brave villager had managed to get his hand around the hostage girl's ankle before shrieking and falling unconscious to the hiss of a stave. Angered, the Guardian holding the hostage threw the girl to the floor of the gallows stage and drew a large vial of black liquid from inside his cloak. He popped the cover and yanked the child from the ground. Holding her by the hair, he poured the grease over the girl's face, who whimpered and coughed, spitting the black substance from her mouth. The Guardian poured the grease until the girl's clothing was slick with it as well, then grabbed her by the collar and whipped her out in front of the crowd. The girl's tiny body dangled from his grip, feet kicking at the air hopelessly above the heads of the villagers.

"Villagers!" he cried above the ruckus, rattling the girl above the crowd like an undesired doll. The villagers immediately fell silent, defeated by the sight of the child doused in candle oil and the electric staff that hung threateningly near the hem of her dress.

"Are you audacious enough to risk the sanctity of your noble village? What men are you, I ask! What man would open his doors to terrorists and murderers? What man would let a child die to protect the life of a fugitive? You can still spare her!" He paused, waiting for a response. The crowd started murmuring, glancing to each other with suspicious and frightened gazes, as if they expected to so-called fugitive to reveal himself right there at that very moment.

The Guardian clicked the switch to the electric stave, which slowly powered up to a resonant hum. Small blue bolts of electric charges danced around a black globe, which crackled and sparked at the end of a metal staff, just beneath the girl's feet.

"What man would let a child die..." he screamed into the crowd, "to protect himself!" He threw his head around and watched the crowd, snarling. "What man, I ask! Show yourself, you coward! You are no man!"

The Guardian fell silent and waited. The villagers' started whispering to each other in panic. A haughty voice rose above the murmuring crowd, stating simply:

"You're right."

The villagers fell quiet and dispersed from source of the voice, leaving a gap in the crowd. A small girl stepped forward, throwing her hood back.

"I may not be a man... but I am no coward."

All onlookers went quiet, staring at the small girl in the crowd. The Guardians murmured amongst themselves. The lead Guardian knew it was her the moment he saw that atrocious rose-colored hair. The rumors were true after all. Looking down at her, he laughed.

"Sorceress. What a pleasant surprise. So pleased to finally meet you," he snarled. "Have you met Zenia?" He gestured the girl he held forward, who whimpered loudly, crying pleas at Miraye.

Miraye felt hatred boil like liquid fire at the base of her spine. She did not respond.

"And where is your friend? Have you come to hand him to us?" The guardian asked.

"What a useless cause," Miraye scoffed. "For such a useless boy."

The Guardians stared at her quizzically. She walked slowly toward the platform, her hands clasped together neatly, and continued speaking, looking up at the sky in thought.

"You don't want the girl who destroyed half a city? Who killed half your politicans? Who almost, but didn't quite... murder Larkin the Shrike?" she spoke with a grin.

The Guardian grunted. "We are aware of your accomplishments, witch, and surely would have pursued you had you not been presumed dead by his hand."

"Then why bother with the boy? I'm the one you want, and I'm right here."

"This is no time for heedless games, witch!" shouted a guardian.

"Take the girl, forget the boy! She's worth more, I'm sure!" whispered another.

"Are you a fool? She's killed thousands..."

"Silence!" yelled the lead Guardian. "We have orders, and we cannot disappoint the King." He looked toward Miraye, licking his lips. "And though your dead body is quite tempting...

"Hand yourself and the boy to us," he gestured to the child, "and she, and her village will not meet the same fate as the towns before us. The burning will end. The suffering will end. Maybe we will even... spare your lives, for a fair exchange." The Guardian's eyes fell downward upon Miraye's body, his lips curving into a terrible smile. "What man would abandon such a... fair exchange?"

"What man," she whispered. Blood sped through her veins to her fingers, the heat of madness rushing through her spine. Visions of that sandy-haired boy shattered before her eyes. Her pupils dilated and irises swirled, shifting colors into a ferocious red.

"What man... " she repeated to herself. She shut her eyes and pressed her fingertips together. The air around her hands appeared to darken and materialize into a red mist. She smiled peacefully, as if in prayer, then let out a bloodcurtling scream.

Eyes red as the sun, she lept onto the gallows platform wielding her scarlet sword high above her head. She lunged at the Guardian, swooping her weapon down upon him in an instant, but stopping just as fast.

The Guardian had pulled the girl in front of him just as she struck, holding the girl as a human shield. Miraye's blade hovered less than an inch away from the side of the girl's wet face. The hilt of the blade remained still in Miraye's firm grip, unwavering, but its tip was hidden deep inside something else. She leaned in toward the guardian and whispered into his ear, asking him his very own question. "What man... would let a child die to protect himself?"

Miraye withdrew the sword from its fleshy hilt. A red stream of blood gushed from the side of the child's face, where it missed her by inches, and landed directly into the Guardian's heart.

"Fool," he whispered.

The Guardian squeezed the child against his bloody chest and threw himself from the platform to the village floor. His voice cracked and gargled as his mouth filled with blood and he screamed his final orders. "Burn... everything... and spare no one."

He pressed the electric staff into the little girl's dress. Holding the girl tightly against him, both he and the girl caught aflame.

Be it.

She coughed.

She tried to hold it in since she had entered the small room. When finally she heard a door shut not too far away, she let go. Quickly she had bent over the sink with a hand over her mouth and she coughed. When she finally stopped coughing she let go of her lips.

Miraye stared at her pale complexion in the mirror situated where her body was hunched over and heaving. There were black splotches on her chin and lips that had appeared when she swung her hand back. She looked at her palm and the same foreign substance lingered on her fingers. She didn’t want to think of why this happened. She didn’t want to recall the dream she had. She didn’t want to remember that this had all been under the influence of a curse.

She slipped to the floor and rested her forehead on the edge of the tub. Her chest moved up and down in normal pace but her heart was speeding. Her head was quaking. She closed her eyes and coughed again where she could feel things coming out of her throat. She covered her mouth once more, coughing until all was at calm.

Soon after, the trickles of cold water tracing down her skin had erupted her flesh into bumps. She was awake now. She was alive. And she dipped her hands into the liquid where she cleaned her face and let the natural air dry her features.

When she opened the door, only the numb silence welcomed her. The boy, she had already guessed, had gone out. No matter, she thought. She didn’t want to see him after the weakness he had shown, she thought as she dressed.

“Good morning, Gaston,” she accosted when she had gone down stairs. The tavern keeper was cleaning a few mugs and gave her a nod and went to his work. She in return went to fetch the broom and sweep any particles away but was distracted when the bell above the door jingled and the door opened. Miraye didn’t like the presence she had felt despite not even knowing who it was that entered. Instead she slipped behind the counter and waited, listening eagerly to what ever would be said.

“What can I do for you?” she heard Gaston ask.

“From King Larkin,” the other one announced – it must’ve been a guardian, “we have been sent to look for this boy.”

The rustle of parchment echoed.

“I can’t say I’ve seen him,” the bartender said sounding very genuine as she guessed that he handed whatever it was back after looking at it for a moment.

“He’s also been known to hang around with a witch. Neigh high, unusual rose hair.”

“Well, if I do see them, I’ll be sure to report it as soon as I can. Now if you please, I must prepare for the day and if you would be kind to step out –“

“Hold on,” the guardian snapped. “We’ve also been given clearance to search the premises.”

Miraye held her breath and pressed her back against the counter as their heavy steps circled around the room. She was trapped. As they came closer and closer she could feel herself starting to panic. From the corner of her eye she could see the toe of a boot and quickly her eyes flashed green. The guardian stood before her, his eyes searching through her. But as soon as she expected the worse, he walked away.

Peeking from her space, she wondered what gone on.

“All clear. But just to let you know, if the boy doesn’t hand himself soon… be prepared for the worse.”

And with that, the guardians had exited. Unbeknownst was that her eyes had gone back to its usual brown when she slumped on the floor and gave a sigh of relief.

“Are you alright?” Gaston asked, lending a hand to help her up. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I could’ve sworn he saw me. But… it was as though I became-“

“Invisible?”

“…Yeah,” she said staring at her hands. “I guess so.”

After a pause, she looked up. “Did you see where Tic went? I don’t like what I just heard and something in me is saying I should go find him right away.”

“He went out heading towards the center-“ But to Gaston’s surprise, she had already vanished.

Miraye watched everything from a distance. Her eyes still kept Tic in clear view the whole time but there were moments where she had to keep herself from running up and stopping everything. She felt disgusted. So Larkin had stooped as low to bring the whole town into this for one boy. There was something else clicking away in his mind if this was his means of getting things back the way he wanted.

Slowly she withdrew from her alley and made her way into the crowd. Even though pink hair would stick out in the crowd, she had successfully managed to steal a black handkerchief and covered her head. She was now behind Tic who was still unaware of her when he flinched and his body automatically moved forward. Miraye grabbed him by the shoulder, hissed him to be quiet and gingerly dragged him back into another alley where everything was still seen and heard.
“What on earth are you doing?!” she snapped, pushing him against the wall.

“I- I can’t stay here… I need to hand myself in-“

Miraye stopped, staring at him in disbelief. In the deepest corners of her soul, anger bubbled. Tic stared at his feet, a mask of confusion and fear on his face.

“I need to… I need to… hand-“

But before he could finish his sentence, she slapped him across the face with all the force her body could muster.

“Don’t you DARE!” she scolded, holding the collar of his shirt and raising him a few inches above the ground. “Don’t you even think about it! I didn’t die so that you can go back to him – we didn’t fight so that you can give up so easily!”

All of a sudden a commotion broke a few yards away. Miraye dropped Tic, staring out into the platform. Villagers were attempting to fight against the Guardians.

“I’ll deal with you later,” she said coldly and sprinted to the scene and started to fight with the villagers.

And prayed against endurance.

Slowly her body became calm again in response to the panicked beating that was thrumming against her forehead. Her eyes opened to the sound of muffled weeping but all was a blur. From the corner was a weak ray of light behind the tan shadow that rocked her and continued to cry. Nothing was at sense for the moment. She closed her eyes again, warm tears dropping into her hair trying to remember what had happened. But still nothing came. Another tear flew and landed on her cheek. She responded, moving her head up to the light like a child who had just been borne into the world.

“Shhhh,” she hushed, her eyes still shut from the world. “Shhhh.” She brought up her hand weakly and rested it on his wet cheek, reassuring that things were fine not knowing what had happened. She knew it was Tic from his octaves and the warmth was radiating from his aura. She continued to hush him calmly when all his trembles had subdued and he became silent.

It was with this she opened her eyes, his now closed and a pang of worry still clear on his features. She wiped away the remaining tears spilling from the corners of his lidded globes, still issuing a hush as quietly as she could. She stared up at him when he finally accepted reality as well, both sharing an emotional connection in doing so.

Finally she sat up, taking the covers and wrapping them around her cold body. She turned away from him, staring out the window, morning now preparing to begin. Slowly the focus returned and with that a flurry of scenes came rushing into her conscious. She was on a cliff. She was being touched. She frowned to herself. That was a dream. That was a horrible nightmare and a vision of things to cone. From what she had learned, dreams that take place into a specific form full of symbols meant only the gods were called. She saw herself falling mangled into the blood sea as she retraced the mind images when-

“What happened?” Tic asked, whispering in an unsure tone. “You were… you were shaking,” he said, his voice cracking as though another cry was to be let out.

Miraye moved her head very slightly, her face still not seen but signaling she was listening. Her shoulders hunched at the thought. Was that why he was crying earlier? Was that the reason he was frantic and holding her? Her words came out slow and deep. “I don’t know.”

There was a moment of silence where neither spoke or breathed. But a sudden revelation occurred behind her, taking air and moving slowly. “Was it a dream?” he inquired, stress filling his throat.

She did not answer but only leant forward from his view as a huddled mass of covers. She shrugged in response. Away from him she was deep in thought, questioning and linking the clues together. But still, there were things unanswered and her mind clicked in rapid pace trying to answer each riddle. She closed her eyes again, tightly, watching the images play out like a fairytale storybook with narratives of each move. The wound over her heart burned when the scene came. She hissed, placing her right hand over it applying pressure trying to make the sore stop. She could feel her heart beat. Her skin was a paper wall and each thrum was stronger than the last.

“I had a dream too,” he mumbled. His voice was frightened and hoarse.

“I don’t know,” she repeated, clutching the sheets around her even tighter. She curled her legs into the covers, burying her head into her arms. An awkward sense of failure swept through them, disconnecting anything they had shared earlier. An eternity seemed to pass, each filled with thoughts unwilling to share. The moons continued to rise from their caves while the silence lingered. Each minute that ticked somewhere in the town clock meant another thought stirred in her mind. A dull sting found its way underneath her skin in the form of an invisible stigma. Yes, something was going on not too far from where they sat. Even more so, there were three individual identities that connected with her foreboding as she continued to meditate.

Finally after many moments, she stood.

“There was a summoning last night. Someone called to the gods, particularly Stryphus.” Miraye crossed over to the bathroom. “We have been cursed.”

The door closed and she left Tic alone in the unwelcoming prophecy.

I Welcome Your Sweet Six Six Six

The sky was a blinding red. None of the constellations appeared except the Hisheme and Stryphus moons, dancing around each other and revolving gracefully. The sea below reflected the deep red of the chaos above, its waves crashing into the cliffs and shore. It smelt like blood. The only noises echoing were the thunderous breaks of the ocean and the wind soaring through the grass. Everything was equally a scarlet red in many shades. It was menacing to look at. It hurt the eyes. Only the moons were white. The light shining from them presented the soft subtle calm of the landscape offering some comfort in the foreign emptiness of void within and around.

Miraye was standing on the edge of the red cliff, staring out into the ocean and the moons. Her toes curled over the barrier, her body swaying with each breeze and shaking with each new crest of waves. She didn’t know how she got there. More over, she didn’t remember her feet taking her to such a place. She had never felt so at one with her surroundings. The greatest of serenity reverberating through the whispers of distant birds was all too clear. There was no use in leaving now. She had no need to. The area was a living proof that nothing mattered now. The reality of the threat of war was no where to be heard. Tranquility. That was it. That was all that was needed.

There was a sudden tickle at her neck. She knew that presence behind her was there the whole time but she never questioned it. She never looked to see who it was. It was only now it acted. Miraye turned her head slightly to a familiar scent of wild flowers and spring fields. A tinge of pain spread across her skin. He was nibbling at her skin, nipping, sucking, biting, licking… all in the same decisive pattern. She didn’t move. She watched the top of his head move, her eyes hazy and sedated.

She looked back out to the sea. The moons were behind each other, creating an eclipse as their pearl shadows swirled with each pulsating beat in her body. She felt her arms being moved, her right being pushed aside while her left was propped up against him, her hands gliding over his warm cheek. Her breath hitched as his fingers caressed her hips, sliding over the fabric, molding his palms against her waist. He stopped biting, nipping, sucking, licking. He breathed into her ear, heavy, intoxicated with touch. And yet she continued to gaze into the strawberry milking of the sea, Hisheme beating against the enveloping Stryphus.

Her head was being tilted to the side, behind at an angle. He brushed his lips against her, still breathing with deep pleasure. Miraye in instinct began breathing at his pace, her eyes watching his heavy veiled vision as his fingers moved up over her breasts leaving a shudder of anticipation. They inhaled the same air, exhaling with new expiration of physical highs. This is what she wanted a voice whispered inside her thoughts. This is what you have been waiting for. This is what you need. This is everything. This is all that matters now. She couldn’t resist. She fell in, accepting, wanting, needing… slowly lured into a web of only seduction of the body and spirit.

He leant down taking the rapture deeper, soaring in emotions as their lips met. She stood still, her body frozen from reacting while his lips slowly caressed hers into a rhythm of alluring sweetness. His hands moved down holding her against him, his fingers trailing downwards sinking into her folds. Miraye groaned, loosing all grip of senses in the moment. She felt his slender fingers gently dip into her, slowly parting the petals of her existence. He whispered her name, sultry, luscious, continuing to graze her lips with his. His right hand pushed away the covers of her breasts, stroking, kneading, resting on her left bosom. Her knees fell weak and she collapsed against his warm frame, he supporting her up with no effort at all. She fit into his arms perfectly, her cheek against his chest emitting a complex sensation through out her body.

But something was not right. That familiar sound that was renowned for the definition of emotion was not there. The birds in the distance had stopped singing their song. Her eyes full awake, realizing that he had no heartbeat.

At that instant, as though reading the change in mood, reading her thoughts, he slipped his left hand away. Miraye looked down horrified that there was blood dripping from his fingers. It shone with the greatest red she had ever seen before her eyes, reflecting the eclipse above them. She pushed him away, trying to position herself into an attack but he wouldn't let go. She struggled, her mouth opening to scream but no sound resounding in the air. She couldn’t breathe. She gasped again, trying so her lungs could expand and accept the oxygen that had been once there but it strained and squeezed every time she frantically let out a gasp for air.

He held her tight, his leg propping her body against his, her legs open into vulnerability. He quickly forced his bloodied fingers into her mouth, gagging, choking what was needed to survive. She panicked. She could taste it, her blood, his blood, swirling into the concoction, the poison that made her heart spasm. Her head spun, she was loosing grip of the surroundings, the red glowing brighter with menace and fire. She continued to struggle against his arms, trying to flee willing to fall into an ocean of awaiting hell. Her fingers scratched against his skin fiercely, she tried her might to push him off but he held her with a threat that could be sensed from each pulse that echoed inside his skin.

He exerted his hand from her mouth, his fingers now clinging tightly from her neck. She tried to scream again. The memory from long ago that she had forced to forget was coming to her again. She was going to be that helpless victim once more forever tormented by the nightmares that plagued her at night. She tried to shut her eyes, the tears of fear streaming down her face but his presence kept them open. She saw it happen. His right hand that had been resting on her left breast moved slightly revealing the deep wound inflicted by a demon with orange eyes. She stared, idly; her body halted struggling in a deafening madness of preparation that was to come.

His fingers ripped her flesh and dug inside, his whole fist deep into her orifice. Finally she screamed and it was heard. The unknown pain ripped through her body resounding in torturous melody that enveloped the crash of the sea. His fingers forced their way through her heart, scratching at her chamber walls with each push inside. Her organ tried to resist the horrible infliction but it was too late. Everything had stopped, her heart, her pulses, her life. Yet her eyes remained open, testimony to the sea below.

He wasn’t done yet. As he slowly pulled his hand out of her chest, dripping in ebony, he pulled out a sword. Her now damaged heart set as the jewel of the handle, her veins rooting itself on the blades like vines on the garden wall. She watched him, tears continuing to trickle slowly. He examined it before her, her body still in has care as if to show off the glory that had been set inside her. She gazed at the weapon, the Hisheme moon now gone within the shadow of Stryphus, reflecting its immaculate white on her blood. She could hear it, the now deceased heartbeat ringing in her ears. The pain was gone but she longed to feel it again, her corpse begging to fully live in masochistic desire.

“My sweet Miraye,” he whispered into her ear. “I’ve no use for you now.”

And with that, he turned her corpse around so her dead eyes could watch the face of her murderer as she limped in his arms. Seryale smiled softly at her, both sorrow and grace compelling his features. He looked over the cliff, his smile never leaving.

And with that, she was falling, gazing up at the man who had given her ecstasy of pain. But within a shadow, his features had morphed, a demon rising with wings of spinal bones and veins showered the sky with his blood. He laughed at her defeat, his orange eyes peering into the abyss as she fell into the ocean.

Her body trembled and quaked, seizures erupting from her soul.

And though you turn away from me.

She really couldn’t do anything except listen to the few words he said. She didn’t look at him either. Nor did she have any real thing to share. So it has come to this then? Backing out on the things they’ve gone through? Miraye felt a familiar tinge of annoyance stricken inside. That was something she had a problem with. Over emotional, trapped, quiet people who usually let others have their way with them. And from what she continued to see from Tic, he was this kind of person. Taken advantage of, easily intimidated. She wrung her fingers tightly, scratching her skin subconsciously. Her eyes turned a bright pink as a tinge of pain ran across her arms before returning to the normal chocolate brown. Her nail broke through her skin. It didn’t bleed much. It was better that way.

He continued to stand there. Idle. She could feel his eyes boring away into her. The same annoyance inside began to grow again. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to push him to the floor, screaming and shouting at him. They weren’t even people they knew. Was the original plan not to alert the Sink? This was just another distraction along their way. No more distractions, she thought. She didn’t want anymore side adventures. And if they did help them, the burning, more were bound to die if they didn’t reach their goal first.

Miraye stood up and walked past him, not looking and not stopping. She turned cold near him. And he could feel this. She might as well continue the work downstairs and let the boy fall back into the misery dropped on him. She wouldn’t have to work that long. It was almost night. Just another hour and then the day would be then. Then she would climb back and sleep not considering that there was another person next to her, sharing space, breathing the same air. She stopped when she was behind him where he couldn’t see her. She looked up, her eyes unconcerned and her eyebrows straight. Indifferent. “I’ll take over down stairs. Take a bath. It’ll make you feel better,” she stated bluntly.

She climbed the stairs to the tavern below. Only one person had come in from the brief intermission. She washed the mugs, dried them and shined them. They were all organized by size and put away neatly to accommodate each drink. She glared at her hands, at the tasks she was doing. She was clearly angry. She wanted to break something but had to refrain from doing so. That boy. That stupid foolish boy. Why did she get mixed up in his acquaintance? You felt sorry for him, she bitterly thought. He reminded you of yourself when you were alone. That’s why you wanted to help so he wouldn’t end up like you. Miraye gritted her teeth. Should’ve over looked him, she grimaced. She wouldn’t be here, she wouldn’t have died.

But where would she be? She’d still be wandering. She would’ve been sold away into slavery. She shuddered. Maybe her master would’ve beaten her or raped her. She would live away bitterly and she probably would’ve committed suicide. And what if Tic wasn’t there to bring her back to life? She’d still be trapped in that web of darkness and sin. If she didn’t meet him she wouldn’t have changed. Didn’t she activate a spell with her thoughts a few days ago? When spells and incantations occurred, it was by emotion to a point she couldn’t remember anything. And as a person, she had grown as well. She stopped to think now. She matured in a way.

Maybe things weren’t that bad. Maybe it would be better off this way.

“Miraye?”

She jumped, startled. Looking up, Gaston seemed to have been calling her name for some time now. No new customers had arrive, a few had left. She didn’t know why he called her. She then started to wash a random mug she had already cleaned nearby to look busy. But to no avail, he continued to look at her. Concerned.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Wrong? Oh no, not at all.”

He examined her, reading her eyes. “That’s a lie. There is something bothering both of you. Just now, I watched as a dozen expressions changed into the other since it seems you had your mind on something else. You didn’t even hear me when I tried to get your attention. I saw it in old Wolf and I see it in you now.”

She couldn’t hold back. He had already figured it out. There was no bother from denying the truth to someone who had already heard the accounts of a close guest. Her shoulders slumped and her face drained of the mask she had been wearing for a while now. She let down her guard. From Gaston’s eyes, it was only then he noticed how tired she looked.

“The boy,” she started unsure to go on, “Tic, he believes he’s the reason why the burnings happened in that town. He thinks he’s the boy that they’re looking for. And I’m afraid this might be true.” She paused wearily and took a deep breath. “He wants to go back. He wants to turn himself to the Shrike and have this over with. But we can’t. There’s so much to be done. We have to go and alert the others. He’s not used to this. He gives in easily. And I’ve done so much that it would be a waste of my energy to be here. It’s just so… frustrating.”

Oddly enough, she never felt so relieved in her life. A weight had been lifted from her shoulders and she inhaled without a slight shudder.

And Gaston seemed to understand everything.

“I see. Well then, you’re just going to have to give him some time to think. And I know I might not find both of you here one day. I accept that.” He scratched his chin, thinking. “I will ask no more. And you can continue to trust that I will share your secret with no one. You must be tired emotionally. Tell you what, I’ll close shop early and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

She beamed. That’s all he needed as a thank you. Maybe if spent time to look for a woman, he’d have a lovely daughter like her.

Miraye feeling lighter than ever helped Gaston with the remaining chores. They bid each other goodnight and parted their ways. He out the door while she climbed the stairs. Tic wasn’t in the room but the bathroom door was closed. He had taken her advice as it seemed. She felt indifferent towards him still. Some annoyance still remained inside but the growing bitter anger for him subsided. It was better if she forgot about this and went to sleep. She undressed with a merry hum and tucked herself deep into the bed. She sighed. She only hoped that Tic himself let go of that guilt. He would have to get accustomed to this. There would be many more times that they’d have to go through such pains and trials of suffering. The strongest survived and the weak broke. He needed to grow. If he didn’t, he was sure to be left behind, sacrificed and forgotten among the faces of cowards and criminals. She didn’t want that to happen for him. But she didn’t want him to become extremely violent either. Only if he opened up more to her, spoke more, laughed more. She gave another sigh, turned herself on her side, facing the wall and the window. What would you do? Would you talk some sense into him and just let it go afterwards?

The Stryphus moon rose from the corner of the window and she fell asleep.

Harbor in the night like a holy vision.

The morning passed on quickly that day. It was because she had her thoughts on something the whole time. It was something distant and familiar that she hadn’t felt for a while. Last night’s escapade out of the tavern attic and in front of the shrike’s castle confused her. It was as though she were being hypnotized, lulled into a subconscious wake to stand there basked in the colorful lights of the majestic turrets. And even when she awoke that dawn to bathe and soothe, she couldn’t find the answer. Chores weren’t too difficult and words were exchanged very rarely. She was in a dream state, wondering. Hoping, as it were, for an unknown mystery that continued to lock its secrets away inside.

Everything felt surreal. It was spellbinding.

Far off away from the ponders and musings of her mind she could hear the noises of reality. They were muffled and quiet, whispered into hear ears and floating away into an unknown. She kept tracing back to the lights glowing in the dark. She could feel the cold, wet dirt beneath her feet. They were like dancing orange orbs. Promising. Seductive. Evil, like the color of the eyes of a man who was up to something. And that irresistible aura that loomed over the mansion was what continued to compel her. It was warm, welcoming… loving.

…loving.

But the warmth turned hot. It burned, searing, soaring into her veins. The quiet murmurs and whispers became louder now melting into screams of agony and pain. Of sorrow and hate. She could hear Gaston and the customer talk now. Her daydreaming and wandering reverberations silenced at the interesting conversation nearby.

"They burned the entire town jus' for some worthless boy. It's a pity, you know. He should jus' turn 'imself in before any of this stuff continues, if he knows what's right."

Her body stiffened suddenly and she saw Tic pause from the corner of her eye. Both of their attentions had now been laid upon this man sharing the news of a massacre in a town nearby. She started up on her chores again, sweeping the broom closer to the counter. She didn’t want to look too suspicious after all. This could’ve been a different boy, after all. But then as though he were reading her slight worry, Tic dropped the mug in his hand. She halted and looked up. Everything went slowly. She could see each shard of the mug hit the floor, fly up and skid across the surface.

Tic turned pale despite his tanned skin. The color from his lips became pallid. A horrible realization and shock crossed his violet eyes. All heads turned and stared. And he stood there, a still statue frozen in time at the words he had heard.

He wasn’t moving. Miraye knew that if this continued any longer, any questions in their minds would be answered. She stayed silent for another second. Tic still wasn’t responding to the world.

“Tic?”

The glaze and shine from his eyes melted and he flinched as though he were being scolded.

“You’re bleeding.”

He turned to look at her. His eyes were still wide in horror and his expression was filled with many lines of emotion. She never saw him like this. In his mind he had seen the outcome of his escape. He looked like he just watched a ghost appear before his eyes or a murder had occurred in front of his feet. To no doubt, this had knocked the wind and hope from his lungs. He continued to look at her. It was disturbing. Was he going to remain like this?

No. Tic had raised his hand and smelled the blood dripping from his fingers.

Miraye picked up the broom to aid the scarlet liquid petals that were fleeting from his body. And on instinct, all the chatter returned into the tavern. It was hushed some what. She knew they were talking about him in particular. Turning on the faucet, she gingerly took Tic’s hand and held it under the running cold water. His shoulders hunched. He was just awoken from a nightmare and he stared bitterly at his hands. Miraye proceeded to sweep up the debris of the mug and to mop the few drops of blood on the floor. But when she was done and looked up, she saw Tic slowly, quietly, climb upstairs.

She could understand that he had to be alone for the time being.

She continued on Tic’s chores for a while. Gaston would give a few glances across the room now and then if she was doing fine. Miraye knew she had to keep calm. She had been in many situations like these before. But for someone who had suddenly been dragged into a world of chaos surrounding him, Tic had reacted naturally. And that was something he had to over come. They were in for even more hell along the way. She sensed this ever since they first were separated. He’s got to keep hold though for a little longer.

When scarce a customer appeared, she gave nod to the keeper and climbed up. She found the boy sitting on the edge of the bed in front of the window, his head in his hands. He was shuddering violently.

Harbor in the night like a holy vision.

The morning passed on quickly that day. It was because she had her thoughts on something the whole time. It was something distant and familiar that she hadn’t felt for a while. Last night’s escapade out of the tavern attic and in front of the shrike’s castle confused her. It was as though she were being hypnotized, lulled into a subconscious wake to stand there basked in the colorful lights of the majestic turrets. And even when she awoke that dawn to bathe and soothe, she couldn’t find the answer. Chores weren’t too difficult and words were exchanged very rarely. She was in a dream state, wondering. Hoping, as it were, for an unknown mystery that continued to lock its secrets away inside.

Everything felt surreal. It was spellbinding.

Far off away from the ponders and musings of her mind she could hear the noises of reality. They were muffled and quiet, whispered into hear ears and floating away into an unknown. She kept tracing back to the lights glowing in the dark. She could feel the cold, wet dirt beneath her feet. They were like dancing orange orbs. Promising. Seductive. Evil, like the color of the eyes of a man who was up to something. And that irresistible aura that loomed over the mansion was what continued to compel her. It was warm, welcoming… loving.

…loving.

But the warmth turned hot. It burned, searing, soaring into her veins. The quiet murmurs and whispers became louder now melting into screams of agony and pain. Of sorrow and hate. She could hear Gaston and the customer talk now. Her daydreaming and wandering reverberations silenced at the interesting conversation nearby.

"They burned the entire town jus' for some worthless boy. It's a pity, you know. He should jus' turn 'imself in before any of this stuff continues, if he knows what's right."

Her body stiffened suddenly and she saw Tic pause from the corner of her eye. Both of their attentions had now been laid upon this man sharing the news of a massacre in a town nearby. She started up on her chores again, sweeping the broom closer to the counter. She didn’t want to look too suspicious after all. This could’ve been a different boy, after all. But then as though he were reading her slight worry, Tic dropped the mug in his hand. She halted and looked up. Everything went slowly. She could see each shard of the mug hit the floor, fly up and skid across the surface.

Tic turned pale despite his tanned skin. The color from his lips became pallid. A horrible realization and shock crossed his violet eyes. All heads turned and stared. And he stood there, a still statue frozen in time at the words he had heard.

He wasn’t moving. Miraye knew that if this continued any longer, any questions in their minds would be answered. She stayed silent for another second. Tic still wasn’t responding to the world.

“Tic?”

The glaze and shine from his eyes melted and he flinched as though he were being scolded.

“You’re bleeding.”

He turned to look at her. His eyes were still wide in horror and his expression was filled with many lines of emotion. She never saw him like this. In his mind he had seen the outcome of his escape. He looked like he just watched a ghost appear before his eyes or a murder had occurred in front of his feet. To no doubt, this had knocked the wind and hope from his lungs. He continued to look at her. It was disturbing. Was he going to remain like this?

No. Tic had raised his hand and smelled the blood dripping from his fingers.

Miraye picked up the broom to aid the scarlet liquid petals that were fleeting from his body. And on instinct, all the chatter returned into the tavern. It was hushed some what. She knew they were talking about him in particular. Turning on the faucet, she gingerly took Tic’s hand and held it under the running cold water. His shoulders hunched. He was just awoken from a nightmare and he stared bitterly at his hands. Miraye proceeded to sweep up the debris of the mug and to mop the few drops of blood on the floor. But when she was done and looked up, she saw Tic slowly, quietly, climb upstairs.

She could understand that he had to be alone for the time being.

She continued on Tic’s chores for a while. Gaston would give a few glances across the room now and then if she was doing fine. Miraye knew she had to keep calm. She had been in many situations like these before. But for someone who had suddenly been dragged into a world of chaos surrounding him, Tic had reacted naturally. And that was something he had to over come. They were in for even more hell along the way. She sensed this ever since they first were separated. He’s got to keep hold though for a little longer.

When scarce a customer appeared, she gave nod to the keeper and climbed up. She found the boy sitting on the edge of the bed in front of the window, his head in his hands. He was shuddering violently.

In you I feel dirty.

So it was that only silence filled the room after the day had ended. The wind continued to whistle outside and the two moons that floated beyond seemed to be sinking despite the time.

Miraye couldn’t sleep. Her body, however tired as it was, didn’t let her eyes fall weak and tired and her breaths never grew slow and timid. She tried to force herself into slumber but something was nagging inside her. She was restless. She wanted to move. But at the same time she didn’t want to wake Tic who lay at the far edge of the bed they shared. It felt as though many hours had passed has passed when in reality they were only minutes. She wanted the rest of the moons to climb to the highs of the sky so she would have things to do again. But it was silly, she thought. The night had only started.

She had since noticed the change in the boy’s breathing. They came slower, shallow and light. She turned her head slightly. Tic was curled on his side but she knew too well that he was asleep. She envied him of the dreams he would encounter while she stayed awake in a reality of nightmares, past and present. She turned her head again to the window, gazing lazily hoping that a bird would fly by. But all creatures were asleep at the side of the city. She was growing desperately bored. The knot in her even started to choke her lungs even though no pain came.

A sigh fluttered from her lips while she continued to stare out the dark sky. And yet, it didn’t seem as dark anymore. It seemed lighter from the moons and everything that reflected it. She blinked and it kept the same but everything before her changed in a small way. They were insignificant. Dull. All that mattered was her.

Her eyes turned into a crimson orange that shone brightly. A ragged intake of breath and her feet were on the cold floor. No creak echoed in the room, no movement felt on any object but only swift wind. Miraye couldn’t stop staring at the moon even when she took her petit jacket that Moth had given her. She slipped from the bed and to the window where her hands pressed the glass. Cold. She shivered when it cracked open, a winter wind filling the room. Her body floated out with no struggle and the window immediately clicked closed once she was outside, balancing on the ledge of the room.

Miraye flew down and landed with a soft thump. The ground was wet beneath her feet but it only motioned to keep going. Quietly she walked through the small sheds, houses and buildings entranced by the colorful lights that seemed so far away. A smile itched unto her pale face then disappeared again. It felt like a dream to be out during the bitter cold while the rainbow ahead beckoned her to a warm soothing place. She never blinked no matter how bright it was getting, the orange melted with the reds and whites.

And there she was before the towering castle that her fairy godmother had sent to her. She smiled again, a crazed and hunger veil covering her body.

She blinked. She took a step back unaware of how she even got there. Confused and scared, she started to turn back when a familiar emotion filled her that hadn’t been felt in a long time. She looked at Larkin’s castle, the windows filled with hope from a menacing source. She stood there for an eternity. She stood and tears streamed from her eyes.

Miraye was next to Tic again in a matter of minutes.
She stared at his back and fell unconscious.

I'd Make a Wish and Bleed.

After mopping the floor, Miraye spent the rest of the morning and noon serving drinks to customers. Business was slow and time had begun to drag itself along. Every time she looked up at the clock only a wee minute had passed from the last time she checked. She finally gave up and sat behind the counter, tapping her nails along things. She was growing bored and there wasn’t much to do but serve things, take mugs back, wash dishes and wait again.

The weather slowly rose apart from the rain earlier in the day. The moons decided to shine about again to brighten things up if only a little. Miraye wiped the sweat from her upper lip. She only noticed that the jacket Moth had given her was made of heavy material meant for the winter. So she stood up and went upstairs to put it away.

She decided to procrastinate a little and stayed upstairs longer than usual. The room was filled with light and there were still some droplets of rain on the window. Miraye crawled slowly toward it and pressed her hand upon the glass. The contrast to the light and her pale skin made her fingers look ghastly. She stared outside for a few minutes with no care or thought in the world. Her eyelids dropped midway in a dazed trance. It was only now she noticed how truly tired she was from all the traveling that had happened and the resurrection that had occurred.

She leaned on the window and sighed. She opened the barrier and a fresh scent of fall wind spread into the room. To breathe again was intoxicating. She never noticed that before. Before long, her nostrils stung upon the freshness of the air outside. She sat on the small bed and lied down, staring at the ceiling.

What am I doing here; she thought when she closed her eyes.

…


It felt like an eternity had passed when she heard soft foot steps climbing up to her.

“Miraye?” a soft voice called out, cautious as to not interrupt what she was doing.

“I’ll be right down, Tic. Just give me a few minutes,” she muttered never opening her eyes to the reality that was waiting for her to move on. Her voice sounded a little strained but normal to both of them. She flexed her fingers.

The boy nodded and climbed back down the stairs, disappearing into the tavern below. He was confused for some part but shrugged it off and ignored it, returning back behind the counter and watched as people outside walked by through the windows. What a slow day it had been, he thought.

But upstairs in the floor above him, silence cleaned the room again. There was no comfort in peace this time for the girl who lay. There was nothing to ponder, nothing to question and nothing to doubt in this room. It felt cold. The window was still open and a gush of wind flew in, curling its long strands around every inanimate object in this attic. It calmed and stopped when silence ate away once more until it was broken with her tears and her muffled cries.

Pepper Clouds

Walking along the cobblestones was easier now. The road beneath her changed into regular rain stricken mud by the time she reached the other side of town. Miraye noticed the boss was coming along side to the tavern, he looking grumpy and his eyes sagging under the morning. It was clear to her he wasn’t much of a day person.

“Boss! Hey, boss!” It occurred to her she never asked what his name was.

He looked up and frowned slightly noticing her new clothes, disapproving as though he was her father. He finally reached the tavern door and waited for her. Miraye took as much time as she wanted still feeling fresh and confident and she wanted that emotion to be with her that whole day. She skipped and pranced and just showed off before she finally reached him. She gave him a goofy smile. He stared at her as though she was nuts but he couldn’t hold it and laughed.

“You remind me of someone,” he told her as he opened the door. “Someone I knew long before, two years before you and that boy ever came here.”

Miraye was pulling up the curtains and setting the stools right side up. “Oh, and who would that be? Some mysterious stranger from long since past?”

“No, a pirate.”

“I see no coincidences between a pirate and I, boss. By the way, boss, what name do you go by?”

“Gaston.”

Miraye suppressed a giggle when she heard this but continued to work. She soaked a small towel with water and proceeded to clean the counter tops. “So, what is it about this pirate that you identify me with, Mr. Gaston?” She held back another choked snigger of some kind in her throat. The name was ridiculous in itself.

“Well,” he began, cleaning the mugs. “He was a regular customer of mine. I didn’t know he was a pirate till much later though. He was quiet, reserved but ordered things in a blunt tone. Much like how you came in yesterday. But soon he was making all of us laugh in simple small ways, warming up to everyone.”

“So I socialize with you the same way, I’m guessing?”

“Not to mention both of you had the oddest traits ever seen in this side of the kingdom. He had golden, yellow eyes and dark blue hair which was pretty long but he kept it wrapped in a strand. But he was friendly, yes.”

“Believe me, boss, I’m not as friendly as I seem I am.”

“True, but the both of you were murderers.”

Miraye stopped and felt a cold chill run down her spine. The thought had only come to her that he would find out sooner or later and turn her and Tic in eventually. She looked up at him. “And how did you know that?” she asked slowly, unsure if she should stay here.

“The dress obviously gave it away. First time I saw him, the pirate, he dragged in a sword shining with blood. And those who have unique traits like your scar and his silver piercings only mean a shady history. Don’t worry,” he added. “I won’t turn you in. You can’t always judge a book by its cover.”

“Thank you, boss,” she muttered and turned to wash the table tops. After a few awkward moments another question sprung up in her mind. “So, why is it that you weren’t as friendly as yesterday, boss?”

Mr. Gaston shrugged. “I can’t always trust people at first sight. But I’ll be easier on you and the kid as well.”

“And do you think my new clothes will attract some customers?” she joked, mopping up the floor. “Especially the corset?”

“Obviously. Men are idiots for that kind of thing. Glad to have you on board, kid.”

The Ghosts on the Stage Appeared

It was hard to walk along the cobblestone in high heels. Not only that but they were wet, slippery and the feeling that she was going to loose balance and fall never left her. Miraye took her steps into a more sophisticated part of the town that was closest to the castle grounds. All around her the wealthy peered down on her, disapproving of her tattered dress and whispering to each other. But she didn’t mind too much. She just had to find a place to get some clothes that was all. Carriages went by her. The pattering clicks of hooves comforted to her to some extent and she wanted to listen to that noise for a while longer. The soft neighs would distract her and she’d turn her head to see a horse gallop by. She had always wanted to ride on a horse when she was little and it was so tempting to just steal one and run with it. It wasn’t the time for that, she told herself, patting her shoulder.

Her eyes caught a quaint shop sitting between two brighter, bigger ones. The windows were tinted grey with rose specks along the edges. Gargoyles sat on its small roof with wide jaws and sharp teeth. No one seemed to pay attention to it and she took it to herself that this was the shop. She stepped closer and noticed the silver letters etched over the doorway. They too were decorated with a different taste with a lace of spider webs over the letters. ADMIRATONE shined and twinkled to Miraye and she finally pushed the door open.

She was immediately greeted with red lights that burned her eyes. It was quite dark inside and she fumbled through blind objects that brushed her. Once she was accustomed to the shades, she looked around. Everything was neatly set on tables and shelves. There were clothes of every array that matched her tastes.

“What may you search for, dear?” inquired a hoarse voice from the counter. Miraye looked up and saw nothing but a humped over figure. “I’m just looking for some clothes,” she replied awkwardly. Not seeing this person made her uncomfortable and she took a step back. She could hear a string of guitars whispering around her.

The hump sprawled up slowly and turned its chair to look at her. She caught a reflection of herself in uncertainty within its glasses. It continued to sit up very slowly and she noticed even the red lights were clearing up into read as it continued. Finally with a creak of its chair, sitting straight, Miraye could see it was a man in his mid 20s. The red was all gone and the room was dimly lighted with regular white. He had been bent over processing pictures the whole time. He was pale and had long platinum blonde hair. He looked healthy in a way but was one who lacked sleep. The man slid off his glasses and looked up at her. He studied her intently with his deep eyes. “I know you,” his whispered, his voice less hoarse than first heard.

“Pardon?”
“You are the girl who attempted to murder the shrike,” he spoke louder.
“And how are you so sure of this, monsieur?” she asked impatiently.

“Your eyes reveal it. Your dress reads it. That scar gives it away. But all the while it was for a noble cause,” he sniffed and stood from his chair. “I’m not going to report you. I also have no need in support for Larkin.” He walked from his counter and took steps toward her. He stopped and leaned in closer gazing at her eyes. His aura was very familiar and Miraye shivered.

“You are of Tic’s kind,” she whispered.

He nodded and smiled slightly. “I am of the SINK, yes. Your friend is from this organization. Currently I’ve been posted here if anything should occur. When you came here I was developing your pictures. Quite an array, if I do say so myself.”

Miraye tried to hold back her amusement. She had a fan after all. She looked around again as the man took a step back and made his way back to the counter. There were so many things that they all seemed to blur together. Little trinkets were tacked on the walls, black lace covered the windows. Candles sat and dimmed corners. Skulls embedded on every shelf and everything of the macabre found its place. If this had been from long ago, such items would be considered of the devil. She looked at the man again who was sliding open shelves open and closed, drawing out little things. “What was your name, stranger?” she asked, sliding her hand over a silk blouse.

“I am known as Moth,” he replied. “And you are Miraye.”

She nodded. “Like I stated before, I am looking for some new garments.”
“Yes. That gown does stand out so brightly.” He fell silent and studied her for some more moments, his pale eyes wandering over her. Miraye shuddered. “And I suppose you’re undressing me with your thoughts?”

Moth shook his head. “I have no use for women. My significant other is of the male gender,” he explained, waving his hand back and forth. He looked at her again. “I know what will dress you fine.” Again he wandered from his counter and went to the farthest corner of the store. He reached over and took a white material. He continued on to the shelves a few feet from it and disappeared behind it. He appeared again with something black resting on his arm. He wasn’t done yet though. He pushed back a veil and fumbled around in there for a while before coming back out with four other items. Moth returned to Miraye and smiled again. “If you would be so kind and follow me to the dressing room.”

While dressing in the small space, Miraye heard footsteps coming back to her. Moth pushed a pair of boots under the door. “These, too,” he sniffed before walking away. Now and then he would go back and push something under the door for her to put on.

A little while later, the door creaked in the back room. Moth turned his head.

“Well… how do I look?” she asked, slightly embarrassed.
“It goes well on you,” he nodded.

Moth had fitted a white corset on her with black lace etched upon the sides. Long black ribbons hung low from it and lead to her black skirt. He had given her some new lingered and the skirt was short enough to reveal she was wearing a garter belt that held on to black lacing that seemed to have been worked from spiders. Her boots were of a deep grey and she managed to put on the petit scarlet jacket while he gazed at her. “If you weren’t so much of a mass murderer, I would have hired you as a model. You do work now, do you not?”

Miraye nodded. “I work down at the pub now. I think it does me justice.” She paused. “How am I to repay you?”

Moth shook his head. “Not to worry. Anyone who fights for a noble cause will be treated like a hero here. If you need anything else, come here and I shall give it to you. But I do ask you leave the gown here. I may be able to do something with it.”

“Thank you so much. You have shown great courtesy. I am grateful.”

He smiled and nodded, turning his back to her. He stopped and turned back. “And do not tell the boy I am here. There are ears everywhere except within.”

Miraye nodded and bowed before stepping out into the sunshine, feeling more confident and newer than ever before.

Along the dirt.

The morning festivities were awkward for Tic. Miraye was accustomed to slinking around naked after she had woken up without any notion in her eye. So it wasn’t different at all and it was plain to say that he stared at the ground below him as to not try to catch a glimpse. Miraye had no say at all for she wasn’t a morning person. She spent another hour in the bathroom basking in the water once again. After they got dressed, they went down to prepare the bar. It wouldn’t open up for a while since it was of the weekend and the customers would appear much later than usual.

Tic locked the bar door behind them and they set out to town. The roads were still wet and muddy and Miraye was having difficulty climbing out of the dirt in her heels. The shops were only opening and they slowly took their time trying to find out which door to enter. It only occurred to her that only one shop wouldn’t accommodate all their needs.

“Here’s what. You go get your things and I’ll get mine. I’ll meet you back in the bar at noon. And if they ask for payment, promise we’ll pay back within a week. Any trouble occurs and I’ll be at the bar.”

With those few words she departed.

And I left here in darkness and found you on the way.

Miraye arched her back up and slid up from the table, turning her head up at Tic. She heard everything. She heard the man’s blubbering, the boy’s inquiry and the bartender’s kind gesture. Well it wasn’t much of a gesture but it he was nice enough to let them stay there for the night. As for her resting her eyes, she was feeling a little dizzy as though running up a case of stairs. She saw images of elegance and marble in her mind when she set her head. She could hear a distant breath and a song of hope flutter in her stomach. It was most peculiar that things like this would happen. There were times she would close her eyes and see the valleys from window view. They’ve since stopped. It was only now this occasion would return.

“We’re done for the night, I’m guessing?” she asked, leaning on the table with her elbows propped up while her hands supported her chin. She heard this from earlier but decided to ask again avoid a possible awkward moment.

Tic nodded. “I’m sorry if I awoke you,” he apologized sheepishly. “We’ll stay here for the night.”

Miraye looked up at the ceiling above them. “It’s all right. I wasn’t sleeping anyways.”

~*~

The spare room happened to take up the entire floor. It was some what like storage space except it was separated by a curtain. On one side were boxes of liquor and the other had one bed and a bathroom. The boxes didn’t take much space thankfully and there was enough room for Miraye to pace around if she had to. The rain above them pounded heavily while another thunderbolt rumbled through the sky. Miraye walked to the window, staring out the veil of rain and watching the lights flicker slightly at the great castle. Larkin was still alive. How could she miss? This only occurred to her now that if she aimed properly, they wouldn’t be here and freedom may have already embraced them.

She needed to relax. She turned her head to the bathroom door. “I’m going to take a short bath. Go ahead and sleep on the bed. I’ll be up all night, it seems.”

Tic responded with a perplexed expression but didn’t bother questioning.

~*~

Miraye slipped into the tub of hot water. Almost instantly her muscles contracted and melted with the touch of warm liquid around her. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. It was nice to bathe again. Especially in heated water. The bubbles floated all around her, popping and re-appearing now and then. The sound of the soft fizzing of the soap and the rain felt at peace. It was times like these that everything that troubled her drifted away and that the only thing that was important was her leisure. She sighed and wrapped her arms around her chest, humming a lullaby from long ago. An empty void inside grew and she slipped her head below the surface.

After a thorough washing of her self, she soaked her gown in soap and water. It sat there, the soap trying all its might to get rid of all the stains that had corrupted its immaculate white. It must’ve been thirty minutes when the ebony turned into a faint scarlet and the scarlet turned into a faint pink. The color of mud dissolved a little but didn’t dare leave its home. Miraye figured this was all it could muster for the time being and they were going to get new clothes anyway, so it didn’t matter. She drained the water and wrung her gown, setting it on a shelf.

She opened the door, wrapped in a towel and found Tic, sitting on the edge of the bed staring straight ahead. It looked like he wasn’t in much of a sleep trance yet.

“Tic, you can take a bath if you want. You went through a lot these past few days, you deserve it.”

~*~

Tic was still in the bathroom and Miraye was under the covers, her eyes closed though her consciousness was still very much with her. The time passed slowly yet the rain did not. The storm would continue for a while. Some one must have upset the gods from what the sky read. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. “They wanted me dead,” she whispered. “Maybe I should have stayed dead.”

The door opened and a click of a light turned off. There was barely a swift noise of any garments on Tic. He must’ve washed his clothes too. Miraye’s own towel was lying on the floor and she could sense him stepping on it. She felt his shock, hesitation and guilt of awkward taste inside.

And being as he was, she knew he wouldn’t dare sleep in the same bed. He was afraid and broken from something in the past.

Miraye stared at the bleak darkness that filled the room. The only light that filled it was from the moons that created eerie shadows on the walls. A sky blue crept into her eyes and an urge to comfort the boy was great inside her.

“Come here,” she said gently.

He didn’t move.

Miraye sat up and leaned on the edge of the bed, groping blindly for his hand. She found his fingers and pulled him into the bed with her, his towel slipping off his own body as well. The covers embraced them and her arms held him close against her fragile body. She kissed his forehead again like she did when she returned from death as though a déjà vu came into play. It was because of him she was given a second chance.

“I’ll always be here,” she whispered in search to give him hope.

And with that she drifted off to a world of dreams.

Ras Berry Sores

His soft voice caught her attention from day dreaming. Miraye turned her head to him and noticed the small white towel that rested on his palm and fingers. She gave him a perplexed look before finally realizing her hand was bleeding. She didn’t notice the pain much after smashing her fist on the mug.

“Oh,” she muttered, embarrassed. She reached for the towel and brought up her strawberry hand. “Why, Tic, how thoughtful. Thank you.” She pushed the cloth on her wounds and felt a familiar sting. There were glass shards buried in her skin. “I really need to stop inflicting injury upon myself. I’m just going to pass out if this continues.”

He nodded slightly as she walked behind the counter. There was a sink on the very edge that shined with water droplets on its walls. Miraye tapped on the faucet with her uninjured hand and dipped her other under the cold running water. She hissed to herself as she also commenced to picking out the shards. After all foreign objects were removed she soaked the towel into the water.

“Come here,” she motioned the boy with her other hand. She turned off the faucet and took Tic by the shoulder, patting the damp cloth on his forehead. “You looked like you were going to fall into pieces back there. Wouldn’t be surprised myself if you broke a sweat.” She took back the cloth, turned on the mechanism again and cleaned it. Once immaculately white, she wrung it despite of causing more bleeding and tied it over the glittering gashes.

White clashed with dark ebony and scarlet. Here they were, dressed like they came back from a ball that was filled with vampires.

“Eventually we’ll need new clothes. We smell like shit, honestly,” she explained, setting back the glass mugs and bottles into their proper places. “I lost my other suit if you couldn’t tell. We’ll work out something tomorrow. As for now, we better continue with our jobs. The boss doesn’t look happy, obviously.”

And with that she filled a mug of beer and slid it towards a new customer.

An Illusion to Feed.

It was the wind that whispered. It was peaceful. The lilacs swayed with each breath of the breeze and the birds near by twittered in an unknown joy. She was there, lying on her back, gazing at the deep void of pastel blue. The petals of flowers brushing against her skin with each flow. It had been so tiresome lately. It was nice for some rest. Miraye’s eyes were closed slightly and she held a stare with a drowsy expression.

What had become of the world today? Why was there hatred? Why is there violence? And she was one of the reasons that the darkness loomed the earth. Hypocrite, she called herself, closing her eyes. But she could still see the clouds behind the veil. She inhaled the sweet scent of the bouquet that surrounded her. She felt as though she was a saint, laid to rest with flowers in her coffin. A small smile smoothed upon her face.

“Dreaming again, little one?” he asked as a new movement stirred next to her. The familiar scent of the spring fields filled her and his familiar arms wrapped around her fragile body.

“How did you know?” she asked, lying on her side and burying her nose into the crook of his neck. His hair tickled her.

“That smile means content with your thoughts. I can read you like a book.”

“And I’m guessing I’d be called ‘Miraye the Malicious’ if I really were a book?”

“No,” he whispered, pressing his lips on her forehead. Her skin tingled in excitement and her heart swelled. “You would be the very words, the inspiration that Shakespeare thought about when he wrote Romeo and Juliet.”

She smiled to herself. “I wish things were like they used to be.”

“I as well.”

--

Miraye’s hand slapped away the foreign object that was nearing towards her. Her eyes opened slowly and fixed a glare at the man. “Correction. What’s a mess of gents like you doing here?” She sat up and folded her hands on the desk, crossing her legs. “If you’re causing problems for my friend here, rest assured that you will be kicked out of this tavern and you can go search for drinks somewhere else.”

“We were just asking the fellow for some of your strongest drink. No need to threaten.”

“But from what I see, you physically rustled his feathers. From your expressions, I’m guessing you doubt he works here. And from what I say, he works here. Along with me. Any more of this rough housing will get you banned here.”

They didn’t take her seriously.

“Okay then.” She took an empty glass mug, placed it on the table and smashed it with her fist. The blood seeped out but no pain crossed her and she gave the men a smirk. “You don’t follow what I say, your very cocks will end up the same way.”

They all turned their heads and fell silent.

“Tic, you got to know how to intimidate people like them,” she said, nudging him back to the bar. “You can’t just let them push you around all the time.”

She didn’t see his lips purse tightly.

Miraye led them both behind the bar and she grabbed four mugs that would hold pints off the shelf. The sleeves of her gown were getting in the way. She pushed them above her elbows so her arms could move more easily. Her eyes surveyed the bottles. What to use? All their colors shimmered before her eyes as though they were pleading to be chosen. Her imagination wasn’t helping and she shook her head.

“Which one of these holds the most alcohol?” she asked, not moving her eyes from the nozzles and bottles.

“The black nozzle can knock out a guy within two drinks,” she heard Tic mutter.

“We can’t serve them only that. They said strongest. I’m going to get them hallucinating and out of here faster then they came in. What’s that red bottle for?” Her eyes settled on the devil with a snake tongue on its logo. It seemed special.

“I don’t know,” Tic whispered.

“To hell with it.”

Miraye shot out her arm and grabbed the bottle. She filled each mug with only a teaspoon of it and slid the mugs under the black nozzle, pulling and filling halfway. With another teaspoon of green abstinence, a touch of pure alcohol and filling the rest with vodka, the drink was ready to go.

With two mugs in each of their hands, the boy and girl walked back to the group of men. They set it before them. “House special, governors,” she explained with a touch of devilish mischief in her eye. She took Tic’s arm and they settled back behind the counter. The men looked at each other, deep with doubt before they toasted, slamming their mugs and ravenously drunk. Miraye squeezed Tic’s shoulder and her eyes went wide watching them. They all finished at the same time, sharing a quaking belch while their eyes shot open in amazement. It was though they were watching something so interesting and not realizing their eyes deceived them. The group spontaneously started to roar in laughter before they stopped silent, gazed at each other and fell backwards.

“Looks like they enjoyed it,” Miraye giggled.

Whisper of dreams

Miraye was still trying to keep her body calm from intense shock. Not only had she been running but was drained of necessary energy. Her eyes hung low while her hair clung to her sweat-stricken face. She was exhausted. She had just come back from the dead and already was up on her legs on rampage again.

But at least they had a job now.

The sorceress reached out her arms and her body trembled from more exertion it was going through. Even a single task like that pained every nerve in her and she winced while she grasped for the broom. But as her body shook, Tic stopped her and put his hand on hers, slowly placing her arm back to her side. She looked at him with an eyebrow raised but he shook his head. She was still moving even though it was obvious she needed rest.

He helped her sit and asked the bartender for some water. Miraye’s mouth opened to protest but Tic hushed her. “You’ve done too much already. It’s my turn to help.”

She watched Tic take the broom and start sweeping with the sharp sounds of crunching glass scraping against the floor. Soon after the tender came back and placed the glass of water before her. “This’ll be coming out of your pay,” he muttered and turned around to go back polishing the mugs. Miraye tediously outstretched her shaking arms and closed her fingers around the glass. She carefully brought it to her lips while the water jerked from the rim and unto her lap. It felt cold and it sent a chill up her spine as well as pain. She drank slowly, inhaling at the same time. She felt completely drained and terribly needed sleep.

Miraye slipped her arms on the table and her upper half of her body slid followed. She crossed her elbows and rested her head, closing her eyes. She had been dizzy for a bit and this wasn’t helping due to the uncomfortable position. Her mind faded back into that cold castle, her head resting upon a soft pillow while a gentle breeze blew by. The room, filled with the familiar warmth as Seryale came and kissed her goodnight before venturing out to finish some business he had to attend to. She missed those times.

Not completely, though. Seryale. That bastard.

You lie to yourself.

And yet another thought came up. Had she just conjured her powers without loosing control back in that alley? Strange. Usually letting a spell occur made her loose all thought and fall into darkness before realizing what she had really done. Even when she lunged herself at Larkin, a part of her was tucked away and hidden.

Did she really find the key to conjuring her powers at will?

I hope so…

With last thought, she slipped away into sleep.

I'll take away your grief.

The first time the door opened, Miraye noticed Tic’s body tense in panic. It was a natural reaction since they were on the run. The dark grays of the stranger’s clothes with his cloak that made her uneasy. A familiar feeling crept in the pit of her stomach as the figure walked by and set their self on a stool at the bar. She watched, sipping her liquid, with a dull bore since there was nothing else to look at. Besides Tic, that is. He had agreed with the plan and things were running smoothly even though it was just a small step in the process. She never took her watch off the cloaked one. It interested her as to what he had ordered and moved his fingers about.

Her examination was interrupted when the door swung open yet again. She could sense Tic’s hair on the back of his neck spring up. Slowly her eyes lapsed over to the entrance. One heavy foot step confirmed every thing as the man eyed her table. Miraye moved her head back in place, watching her ‘coffee’ go into her parted lips while the Guardian marched to their table. Tic’s eyes were full of anxiety but he remained quiet when they were approached.

The Guardian slammed down a heavy fist down on the wooden table which rattled it and the floor in response. Tic jumped slightly in his seat to this while Miraye continued dosing down her drink. This caught the bartender and the figure’s attention and their heads were both directed at the trio. ‘All eyes on us’, she thought to herself and she crossed her legs with a calm ease. ‘As always. This isn’t the first time, of course.’

It had caught her attention that the Guardian was leaning in towards Miraye. Her eyes lazily looked back up at him and she started to slowly envelop the last of the liquor and the bitter buds. Finally finishing its contents, she signaled the tender for another and set down her goblet. “Is there anything wrong, officer?” she asked with no interest at all. It was bad acting for the most part but she didn’t feel like getting up and running out of the door, dragging Tic by the wrist behind her. She cracked a fake smile at the man and straightened herd dress as to erase all the wrinkles and dried mud and blood.

He leaned in closer that she could smell the odor that was emitting from what he called a mouth. “Don’t play dumb, wench,” he hissed with a low growl. “I know who you are. I know you kidnapped the boy. And you’re supposed to be dead. So by the order of the shrike Larkin, I plan to return the brat to his majesty and be rewarded. As for you, I’ll drag you by the hair and rape you up your pretty little virgin cunt until all of my seed comes out of every orifice of that small fragile body and I’ll send you back to hell where you belong!”

“I don’t think you’re permitted to do any of what you’ve just said,” Miraye remarked, coolly. “But, I may not be that dead girl you’ve once seen. That boy may not be the same child that the shrike joyfully violated either. And just to put the record straight, you aren’t the first to neither fuck nor rape me. So if I were you, I’d go out that door and insert that twig you call a cock into the nearest cockroach you can find before I send something else up your substitute pussy.”

He only glowered at her and leaned in closer. “Smart bitch, aren’t we? Well I’ll guarantee the most pain you’ve ever experienced in your life just because of those slick words of yours!”

The bar tender set down Miraye’s seventh order down, giving her an uneasy glance as if he were trying to tell her to shut up. She saw this of course, nodded and began drinking her ‘coffee’ once again. “I’ve had more painful,” she muttered into the burning liquid. “Far more than you can imagine.”

The Guardian recognized that she was only trying to get into his nerves and stall both time and life. His patience left him and his arm shot out and grabbed both Miraye and Tic by their arms in one large hand and pulled them to their feet. His grip was rough and strong and it hurt Miraye’s wrist. She was still loss of much needed blood and the force was making her whole arm bruise a sick purple deep inside the long white sleeve of her gown. Her arm tingled in pressure and ached from it. Squirming wouldn’t go any good because it might make her whole arm fail while it lost all functions to move. Instead, she slid her fingers on the back of Tic’s hand and rubbed it as a way of trust and comfort. ‘He’s not to worry,’ she thought as though she transmitted her apprehensions to him. ‘I even told you, remember?’

The ‘man of the law’ was fumbling with his other hand through his pockets trying to find some chains, handcuffs or a rope. It was a long process for him since his pockets were buckled and snapped into place. Tic was slowly relaxing now and she stopped running her thin fingers on his hand. She looked back at the figure and the bartender who were watching the whole affair as if it were some entertainment. ‘Help Us’ she mouthed and directed the next words towards the bartender. ‘I Still Need to Pay for the Service.’

But the Guardian grunted and turned to his prisoners. “It seems I have no tying mechanism. No matter. I’ll bring you to the shrike either hand.” He laughed at his own pun and nodded to the others in the tavern and they looked away to mind their own business. Their feet dragged along the floor and they were back out into the moonlight as soon as the Guardian carried them out of the threshold. Miraye’s eyes burned as she squinted from the bright light of the new day. There were people out and about in the streets now who happened to be all looking at the spectacle before them. She threw them dirty looks for staring and some looked away in immediate response. But they were all throwing each other looks and whispering into each other’s ears. People were nosey in general. She disliked that.

They reached the Guardian’s large horse. It was obvious to Miraye they were going to be dragged even on horse. Dragged on horse meant dragged along the horrible ground while the rocks and sharp objects scratched into their dermises and the dirt thrown into their eyes. She wasn’t a masochist, and of course, she didn’t like the idea. But on the other hand, she was a sadist. Devoured the sight of blood before her and relished the pain she was bestowing. One of Seryale’s many gifts he had passed down to her a few years ago.

Miraye looked over and the Guardian drew out a leather buckle strap with hand cuffs that he was planning to hasten them to. It just hung at the back piece of the saddle and extended to the ground. Not only were they going to be dragged but kicked repeatedly by the horses’ hoofs as well. Once again, not to her fancy. Her thoughts were staggering some what but snapped back in place when she noticed his grip on Tic and her had loosened. He was trying to set Tic’s wrists into the cuffs but was having difficulty maneuvering with only one hand while the other was occupied. The pain left her arm but tingled as the blood rushed back into her veins. This was just enough to get through.

As one of his fingers plucked loose to unleash the SINK boy, Miraye had her plans ready. Once Tic’s arm slipped free, she made a loud startling shriek that made the Guardian jump and his grip loosened even more. “Bad reflex, officer!” she yelled and ran her legs up his ribs and kicked him in the jaw with a disgusting crack. She had put all of her force into the blow and blood was streaming from the Guardian’s mouth. By then, he tried to close his grip back into place but Miraye absconded free and wrapped her arms around Tic’s abdomen and yanked him from him as well. With that, he landed on his feet and she roughly took his arm and led him down the street while the pedestrians watched them go off with no intentions of interfering. But as soon as they tried to look at the Guardian, they hurtled themselves into the walls as Larkin’s man stampeded down with his horse, galloping madly.

There were endless twists and turns through the village. It was a blessing from the gods they hadn’t received a dead end just yet. They ran through markets, climbed over barrels, splashed through puddles and shoved people out of the way. And all the while, the Guardian roared down close behind. It wasn’t a fair game. They only had their legs while he had animals to do his works. His eyes were deaf mad with rage and the horse was foaming at the mouth with the brittle gagging and scratching its tongue. But they couldn’t see this for they were too busy trying to escape from him.

While the colors flashed by as a horrid blur on a canvas, Miraye spotted a narrow alley way. This would definitely loose him and she was sure of it. The two were now in the slumps of the village full of shady characters and drunken homeless with an aura of evil spirits all around. If this was how it was going to end, what better of place? No one would suspect them for there was always a fresh murder when a new corpse would be found in these streets. The buildings were dark and mangy and the air was filled with scents of dust, heavy perfume and mold. No one cared as they ran by. It was unusual to them for all they cared.

They turned sharply and Tic almost ran into the wall as she swerved into the narrow path, her nails digging into his skin. She could hear the galloping stop but didn’t dare look back. The familiar stomp of boots and the dangle of chains made sure that the Guardian now was on his own pair of legs, still intent on catching them. Miraye’s legs were aching now but she couldn’t stop now. Larkin wasn’t going to get them again!

But fortune turned its face and its sibling grinned mischievously down upon Miraye and Tic. It was clear before the lilac and the almond eyes that before them was a black cemented stone dead end. No light reached into the alley and it was only filled with the darkness and the blind objects in its corners. No matter. She kept running, she kept dragging Tic behind while the Guardian followed.

And then, they couldn’t see. Miraye turned around and pushed Tic behind her. She shrouded her pants and felt her way up the boy’s arm and read his face with her fingers before setting her palm on his oxygen needing mouth. She forced to breathe through her nostrils and all the scents in the alley way were distinguished. It smelt of decay. And it was perfect. Her nostrils stung with each deep inhale and exhale she tried to settle down. Tic followed her lead and the alley became dead silent. She concentrated and drowned in to her feelings.

The Guardian was stumbling through, noisy and unaware.

He blinked even though there was only black velvet to see. His neck arched and revolved around his shoulders as he tried to cop a sound. But he was panting too loudly and it was disrupting his concentration. He tasted the evil in here and he began to fear. He couldn’t leave without them, though. He just couldn’t.

And then there was a whisper and a blinding aqua light hurtled directly at him. For a brief second he saw the corpses around him and the girl holding back the boy with her palm outstretched before he was hit.

A loud agonizing scream echoed and the pain consumed him before his skin rotted away and the rats flooded through his orifices.

---

The tavern door swung open with a loud bang.

The bartender dropped a mug in surprise and the glass shattered into sparkling shards, the rainbow illuminating each of its surfaces. His jaw dropped slightly at the site before him.

“We’re looking for a job,” Miraye wheezed, leaning on Tic who helped her stand while she clutched her side. They smelt highly atrocious.

“No questions. Just hire us on the spot.”

Relieve your eyes.

Even before setting down the cup, Miraye shot out her hand and grabbed it. Within a few seconds she had downed the contents. The bartender seemed startled for the most part until she threw him a look which made his face go blank. It was only after Tic whispered his order when it happened. Just one cup wasn’t going to wake her up and get her thinking. Hell, it was going to take a while. She leaned back and grunted a curt “Another”.

Then she was drinking again, Tic sipping quietly. She let the coffee burn her tongue while the vodka startled her senses. Her mind continued racing with thoughts. After finishing her fourth run, she set the cup down, looked up and studied Tic. She knew there was something in his mind.

“That guardian. He worries you a little,” she whispered. He looked up at her. Yes. It was there in his purple eyes. Readable like the shape of his face. “That’s not a problem,” she added and signaled the bartender to get her another run. “He’s the least of our worries. Trust me.”

The man came back and set down the new cup. She stayed quiet until he was back at his counter, washing some mugs. Miraye sipped since the caffeine was kicking in. “No, I don’t have money. Don’t worry about that, though.”

Tic doubted, of course.

“Look,” she drawled, “We still need Stelon, traitor or not. And we need new clothes so we won’t be noticed easily. Traveling, of course, has its quirks and we’ll need some supplies. How’s the idea of getting a job?”

Before the boy could answer, the door swung open.