Date: January 1, 2018 | Time: 10:23 PM
Location: The Black Ledger – Lower District
Perspective: Kaiser
Boris's hand began to twitch, his fingers splaying out as they lost all sensation. The skin on his palm turned a ghostly, waxy white, the blood trapped behind the wall of my thumb.
"AAAAAAHHHH…"
I can feel the bone beginning to compress. A few more pounds of pressure and the radius will snap like a dry twig. I'm almost tempted to let it happen just to see if the sound wakes Malakor up to the reality of who is standing in his shop.
Malakor's amber eyes didn't leave mine. He sat perfectly still, his predatory smirk replaced by a thin, hard line.
"Boris," Malakor said. "Don't touch her. Let the young lady talk. We are businessmen, not savages."
I let go. I didn't just release him; I flicked his arm away as if it were a piece of trash.
Boris stumbled back, clutching his wrist. A dark, mottled blue ring had already begun to form where my fingers had been, the blood rushing back into the dead tissue with a painful, stinging heat.
He stared at me, his face twisted in a mix of shock and murderous rage, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Boss, he—" Jax started, his hand drifting toward his sword, his eyes darting between Boris's bruised wrist and my face.
"I said not now, Jax," Malakor snapped, his gaze remaining locked on me.
Eve didn't seem to notice the violence that had almost erupted. She was focused entirely on the ring in Malakor's hand. She turned to me, her pink eyes shimmering with a fragile, heartbreaking relief.
"Thank you... thank you for stopping him."
She stepped closer to the desk, her small hands clenching the fabric of her scarf.
"Sir... Jax promised. He said... he said he wouldn't sell it or ruin it. He said if I brought the silvers, I could have it back. I have the money. Please... it's all I have left…"
"Can I please... please have my ring back?"
I leaned against a rack of notched gear, my eyes tracking the way she trembled.
"Is it really that important to you?" I asked. My voice was low, devoid of the fake cracks and high pitches from before.
"If it's everything you have, why would you give it to a man like him in the first place?"
Eve flinched at the question, her head bowing as her hands shook. "I... I-I didn't know what to do. I needed the silvers so badly. There was... an emergency. Someone's life was... I wanted to help, but I didn't have anything else."
"I didn't know... so I went around the plaza and..."
She trailed off, a soft, choked sob escaping her. She looked utterly lost, a girl who had tried to do something brave and had been devoured by the sharks of the Under-Spire for her trouble.
She's too kind for her own good. She probably saw someone hurting and offered up her soul just to stop their tears. Like how Elfie would…
I looked at Malakor, a cold, mocking smile playing on my lips. "Well, Sir Malakor. I'm sure you're curious too. After all, you're a man of the world. A businessman with a big, generous heart, isn't that right?"
Malakor narrowed his eyes, recognizing the sarcasm for exactly what it was—a challenge. He leaned back, spreading his hands over the oak desk.
"Of course. I'm always willing to hear a tragic tale if it leads to a better understanding of my... investments. Tell us, little flower. What was so important that you'd trade a royal artifact for 10 measly silvers?"
Eve took a shallow, shaky breath. "Okie... I'll tell you. I'm just... a little scared. It's hard to talk when..." She looked back at Boris and Jax, her eyes filled with a primal, instinctive dread.
I moved on my own, stepping into the space between her and the thugs. I didn't look at them, but the weight of my presence was a physical barrier.
"Don't worry,"
"They won't get close to you. You can speak."
Eve looked up at me, her gaze lingering on my eyes. The fear in her expression softened, replaced by a strange, flickering recognition.
She took a deep breath, her small frame steadying. "Thank you again... I'll tell you now. It started this afternoon, near the cathedral..."
Date: January 1, 2018 | Time: 11:48 PM
Location: Near the Cathedral (Story Retelling) – Sylvaris
Perspective: Eve
The white spires of the cathedral always look so much taller when you're sitting on the ground!!!
I leaned back against the cold iron of the bench, watching the afternoon sun wash over the plaza. It's beautiful here—so much brighter than where I was before. I missed this city, even if it feels a little too big for someone like me.
Ah—um, I shouldn't have bought this cake.
It was only a few coppers, but every coin is a step closer to the Asura Empire, and I'm so far away. 1200 gold pieces. The number feels like a mountain I'm trying to climb with bare hands.
My last few silvers are sitting in my pocket, feeling heavier than they should because I know they're the last of my hope.
It tastes so sweet!!!! Just one bite to help me forget the numbers for a second. If I can just reach the empire... maybe everything will finally make sense of my past. But how am I supposed to find that much gold?
I'm just me. I'm not strong or a great mage.
I tried to focus on the children playing in the center of the square instead of my own worries. There were 5 of them, their laughter echoing off the stone walls.
They were playing tag, a frantic, messy game that made me smile despite myself. They all looked like commoners—brown and black hair messy from running, their clothes worn thin.
One little girl was "it." She was much slower than the others, her breath coming in short, ragged puffs. I noticed her shoes first; they were covered in clumsy patches, and her dress had been mended so many times the original color was starting to fade.
She's trying so hard!! She looks like she's about to fall over, but she keeps reaching out, her tiny hands grasping at the air. It's a bit sad to watch. I want to go over and give her the rest of my cake, but I'm too shy to even stand up.
But then the air in the plaza shifted. A group of men walked through the square, their boots loud and heavy against the cobblestones. They looked like they belonged in the Lower District—their faces hardened by things I don't want to imagine.
One of them, a man with an axe across his back, didn't even try to move. He stepped right into the path of the children.
He bumped into the little girl with the patched shoes on purpose. It wasn't an accident. I saw the way his shoulder dipped, the way he sneered as she tumbled backward onto the hard stone.
She didn't cry out, she just looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes.
My heart started to race, thumping against my ribs.
Please, just keep walking.
Please don't hurt her.
One of the girl's friends—a boy not much older than her, with fire in his eyes—didn't hesitate.
He ran forward and shoved the man's leg. It was an impulsive, stupid, protective move. A child trying to be a knight.
The man stopped. His friends stopped.
The laughter in the square died instantly, replaced by a silence so heavy it felt like it was crushing the breath out of my lungs. They turned around, their shadows stretching over the small boy like a shroud.
Oh no... ah, um... I have to do something…
I'm scared, I'm so scared I can't move my legs, but I can't just watch this. My hands are shaking. My heart is screaming. I'm just a girl with nothing, but if I stay on this bench, I'll never be able to look at the cathedral again without feeling the shame.
The man reached down, his hand closing into a massive, meaty fist.
I gripped the wooden edge of the bench so hard the splinters bit into my palms. My eyes darted around the plaza, frantically searching for one of the adventurers—someone with a sword, a staff, or even just a stern look—to step in.
Please. Someone look. There's a knight by the fountain, why isn't he turning around? Anyone.
I'm just a girl with a half-eaten cake and trembling knees….
I can't... I'm not enough.
Please, just let someone else be the hero today.
I-I'm too scared to even breathe.
The little girl with the patched shoes scrambled to her feet, her face pale and streaked with dust. She rushed in front of her friend—the boy who had pushed the man—and bowed so low her forehead almost hit the cobblestones.
"S-sorry! Please, sir... he's just... he didn't mean it!" she stammered, her voice thin.
"I-I'll be more careful! I won't get in your way again! Just... please don't be mad at him!"
The man with the axe didn't look moved. He looked bored, which was much worse.
His friends crowded around, their shadows swallowing the two children.
"Look at this little rat," one of the men laughed, his voice a jagged rasp.
"Teaching the brat how to beg? Maybe you should teach him how to keep his hands to himself before he loses them."
"He pushed my friend!" the boy screamed, his voice cracking with a mix of terror and pure, stubborn justice.
"You tripped her! You're—you're just a big bully!"
"Thwack—!"
The sound of the punch hitting the boy's face was sickening.
He was thrown backward, his head snapping to the side as he hit the ground. He groaned, a shaky hand going to his mouth as blood began to seep between his fingers.
He looked terrified, his eyes wide and glassy, but he still tried to push himself up.
The boy is so small. Why is he the only one fighting?
Why am I still sitting here? I'm a coward. A horrible, useless coward.
People are watching… someone has to come and save them…
The man stepped over the boy, his heavy boot hovering inches from the child's chest.
"I think it's time I taught you a lesson about respect, you little—"
The girl shrieked and threw herself between them again, her tiny arms spread wide.
"No! Stop! Please—!"
The man didn't hesitate. He didn't use his hand this time.
He swung his leg in a brutal, heavy arc, his boot connecting squarely with the girl's abdomen. The impact made a dull oomph sound that I'll never forget. She was launched backward, skidding across the stone like a broken doll until she hit the base of a statue.
"AHHHHH—! Ugh... h-hah..."
A sharp, jagged scream tore from her throat, followed by a wet, hacking cough. A spray of blood splattered against her faded dress and the white marble. She curled into a ball, her small body shaking with silent, racking sobs.
"Hahaha! Look at that," the man laughed, wiping a speck of dust off his boot.
"Cleaned the square for 'em. Come on, boys. Let's go get a drink. Brats gotta learn how to behave in the real world."
"Hehe, serves 'em right," another muttered. "Maybe next time they'll play in the dirt where they belong."
They walked off, their laughter—"Hahaha! Hah..."—echoing off the cathedral walls. They moved with a casual ease, as if they hadn't just broken a child in the middle of a holy square.
The plaza was silent. People looked away. People kept walking.
I stared at the girl. She was still coughing, her hands clutched over her stomach, the blood staining her patched shoes.
I was surrounded by people, yet it felt like I was the only person left in the world.
Nobody helped. Not the knight. Not the priest at the door. Not the merchants.
And not me. I watched it happen. I watched her bleed and I did nothing.
I stood up, my legs finally moving, though they felt like lead. I walked toward her, my heart breaking with every step.
I stood there, my boots rooted to the white stone, watching the man with the axe over his shoulder walk away as if he hadn't just shattered a life. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to escape my throat.
What am I doing? Why am I just standing here like a statue? I'm looking at the people around us—the merchants, the mages, the tourists—and everyone is wearing the same expression.
They're waiting. They're all hoping that someone else will be the one to step into the blood. Is that how it works? Is everyone just a ghost waiting for a hero to appear?
If I don't move... if I just keep watching... she's going to stop breathing on that cold marble.
"Lily! Lily, please!" The boy's voice was a ragged scream.
He was on his knees, cradling the girl in his arms. Her head was lolling back, a dark, thick blood beginning to mat her hair and coat the boy's patched sleeves.
"Someone! Please! Save Lily! She—she hit her head! Please!"
I felt a sharp tug at my hand. I looked down into the tear-streaked face of another little girl, her brown eyes wide with a desperate, crushing hope.
"Sister... please," she sobbed, her tiny fingers digging into my palm. "Please help her. Lily is bleeding. She won't wake up right. You look kind... please don't leave us."
"You have to help Lily. My friend is going to die, isn't she? Please, sister! Please!"
"Finn hold Lily! Please sister.." The other one tugged at me.
The weight of her plea broke the lock on my limbs. I didn't think; I just moved.
I knelt down in the dirt and the blood, my dress soaking up the cold moisture of the plaza. Lily was shaking, her breath coming in shallow, wet hitches.
Oh, gods... it's worse than I thought. There's a deep gash on her temple where she hit the statue, and her thighs are covered in scrapes. But it's her stomach—the way she's curling around it... he must have caused internal bleeding.
I can see the bruising forming already, dark and angry beneath her skin.
"Huhu... ah... ngh..." Lily's eyes flickered open, but they were unfocused, swimming in tears.
"It hurts... it hurts so much... sister... help me... please help me..."
"Shh, it's okay, Lily. I'm here," I whispered, my voice trembling as much as my hands. I reached out, gently sliding my arms beneath her small, frail body.
Stop it, Eve. Stop being a crybaby.
You're the only one she has right now. If you stay a coward, she dies. You can't wait for a miracle. You have to be the miracle.
As I stood up, lifting her into my arms, I felt a shadow fall over us. The man with the axe had turned around, lured back by the commotion.
He was smiling—that same, disgusting, predatory grin. My teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached. I stared back at him, with a cold, sharp fire.
"Bullies," I breathed, the word feeling like a curse.
The man laughed, but I didn't wait for him to speak. I looked at the other children.
"Do you know where her parents are? Go! Run as fast as you can and bring them!"
The three smaller ones nodded and bolted into the crowd.
Finn stayed, his face pale and his fists clenched.
"I want to stay with Lily! I—I have to!"
"Then come with me, Finn," I said, already beginning to jog toward the medical district near the cathedral's side gates.
"Lily... I'm sorry," Finn whispered, running alongside me as he looked at her pale face.
"I'm so sorry, Lily..."
Run, Eve. Faster.
You're such a pathetic coward, crying while a child is dying in your arms. Stop shaking. Every sob you let out is a second she loses.
Find a healer. Find anyone.
Just don't let her go cold.
Please, don't let her go cold.