This is an edit/rewrite of a story by a similar name. I decided that I missed this plot, but couldn't continue with that I had left it off with. So... here you go. Storm Bringer, redone.
The bell above the door tinkled. The sound brought attentiveness to the what had been the previously uninterested eyes of the young woman behind the counter. She lifted her head as three men crushed together in the narrow doorway, letting in a wave of heat from the streets outside. Chestnut bangs fell over steel blue eyes that glittered dangerously at the new customers, but the men, all taller and bigger than the lanky, longhaired girl, took no notice of her. Their eyes flickered around the shop, taking in every antique that decorated the shelves as old as the pieces, and, not seeing what they wished to find, they finally moved to acknowledge her.
"Can I… help you?" Her voice had an accent, but it was not local. There were twinges of a thousand different lands, mountains and rivers the men could only dream of seeing, but mostly, it seemed to bear the thick drawl of the rolling hills of France.
"Are you Akairo Hiarashi?" inquired the shortest of the three, a man who stood inches still taller than the shopkeeper. She took a moment to study his face - round, soft, like a boy who thought he could act like a man, with deep set brown eyes and a bristle brush of black hair on his head. He was broad shouldered and intimidating in black pants and a black shirt with the sleeves torn off. The woman nodded shortly, an answer to his question, and his shoulders stiffened with resolved. "Hand over the jewel, Miss Hiarashi and you will stay unharmed." She raised a delicate eyebrow and pulled herself to her full height, letting the book close itself heavily on the desk.
"What jewel?" she queried, her eyes wide and innocent. The smaller of the men, who had obviously shown himself to be their leader, took an angry step forward, his hands ham-sized fists at his sides.
"Don't be a smartass, girl!" he snapped, his dark eyes narrowing. "Give it to us!" A curtain behind Akairo swished gently as it was pushed aside and now there were five in the room - Akairo and the men, and a small, black haired girl with devastatingly black eyes that took in the scene before her. She said something in a lilting language to Akairo, who answered back in the same tongue as she half turned to the girl, displaying her back - and her confidence- to the men, that told them, quite plainly, they were of no threat to her. The raven-haired girl said something with a raised eyebrow that brought a smirk to the face of the other. Akairo tossed her braid over her shoulder and walked around the desk, leaving her friend to man the desk.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you could ever mean," said Akairo in the same accented English as before, as she gave a deep bow of apology. "Please, feel free to look around our shop," she continued, straightening with a sweep of her arm. The man, who had been so irately conversing with the woman before, now grinned wickedly and shared decidedly over delighted glances with his silent cohorts.
"I'll look around alright," he growled, turning his gaze, now filled with fury, back on the braided girl before him, who was unfazed. "Find that jewel!" he ordered of his companions, who both nodded quickly and moved forward into the room. The one nearest Akairo moved to his direct left, where a row of dusty, delicate vases sat in the heavy sunlight that poured in from the outside row. He lifted one, a large cream vase decorated with gold edged swans swimming on swirls of blue, and as he lifted it, it brushed the sides of the vases near it, producing a tinkling sound that brought the immediate attention of the dark haired young woman behind the desk. Her dark eyes narrowed, but she leaned forward nonchalantly on the desk, resting her weight on her elbows.
"I would not do that," she advised calmly, in an accent richer than Akairo's with the hills and pastures of a decadent countryside. The man holding the vase looked at her and his face contorted, as if her words made sense to one part of his mind, but were adamantly ignored by another. His eyes glanced between her shadowy black eyes, Akairo's steel blue, which were relentless on him, and the hard, harsh eyes of his leader, which promised more punishment than either girl could possibly deal out.
"I… uh…" He stuttered, his glances becoming more furvitive , until he took a halting step backwards and let the vase fall from his hands. It fell through the air, to the unpolished wood floor, only to stop, less than an inch from its final destination. There was a collective change in the air - tension, from the three men, and disdain from Akairo. She turned slightly and rolled her eyes over her shoulder at the girl behind the desk, whose eyes now shimmered a brilliant cerulean blue.
"I warned him," said the girl softly. "If you are going to cause trouble, then I will have to ask you to remove yourself from this establishment." The two men in the door backed up, their eyes wide and their skin pale as the vase continued to hover above the floor. They never saw the girl's eyes as they turned and ran, their mission completely forgotten, and nor did they notice the third member of their group who stumbled to catch up with them. The door smacked shut, cutting off the wave of heat from outside that had made the small shop stifling. Akairo bent and grabbed the vase with both her hands, picking it up and placing it back on its rightful spot on the shelf. When she turned, her friend was still leaning over the counter, only now she watched with eyes the color of solid darkness.
"Not bad, but not a good idea either," scolded Akairo, placing both hands on her hips and making a face. "Danae, really, was that necessary?" Danae shrugged her shoulders, causing the sleeve of her shirt to fall further down her arm. She stood, pulling up the errant sleeve as she did so, then pausing to brush the curtain of her loose black curls back.
"I gave them fair warning," she countered, leaning forward again. "Besides, they are gone, are they not? And we have much work to do. You know that this means, of course." Akairo heaved a sigh, but nodded. She walked to the counter, her long skirt making noise that it had not before, and when she stooped to reach around and under the surface, it rustled loudly, like a creature leaping from the bushes on prey formally unsuspecting. She pulled a large black messenger bag out and straightened, slipping it on to her shoulder as she did.
"I need to run to the market," she stated flatly, opening the flap and peering inside her bag. "Danae, go home and pack. We'll pay a visit over to our beloved sister in the north. She'll enjoy that." Danae's brow wrinkled in deep thought and she tapped a fingernail against the hard wood of the desk.
"Did she not say, the last time that we "paid" her a visit, that if she ever came up there again, she would skin us alive?" she wondered, looking to her friend for answers. Akairo grinned broadly and let the flap of her bag fall.
"I think we'll be okay," she replied, gathering up her skirt in one hand. "I'll see you at home, Danae. Pack fast and pack light - we're leaving as soon as possible." Danae nodded, although her face still betrayed her misgivings about this trip, but Akairo seemed confident enough for the both of them. She all but bounced out of the shop, her heels making more noise on the floor than the skirt around her legs. As the door closed behind her, the bell chimed brightly, saying its salutations to its faithful guardian.
It had no idea that it jingled a final goodbye.
Prologue
The bell above the door tinkled. The sound brought attentiveness to the what had been the previously uninterested eyes of the young woman behind the counter. She lifted her head as three men crushed together in the narrow doorway, letting in a wave of heat from the streets outside. Chestnut bangs fell over steel blue eyes that glittered dangerously at the new customers, but the men, all taller and bigger than the lanky, longhaired girl, took no notice of her. Their eyes flickered around the shop, taking in every antique that decorated the shelves as old as the pieces, and, not seeing what they wished to find, they finally moved to acknowledge her.
"Can I… help you?" Her voice had an accent, but it was not local. There were twinges of a thousand different lands, mountains and rivers the men could only dream of seeing, but mostly, it seemed to bear the thick drawl of the rolling hills of France.
"Are you Akairo Hiarashi?" inquired the shortest of the three, a man who stood inches still taller than the shopkeeper. She took a moment to study his face - round, soft, like a boy who thought he could act like a man, with deep set brown eyes and a bristle brush of black hair on his head. He was broad shouldered and intimidating in black pants and a black shirt with the sleeves torn off. The woman nodded shortly, an answer to his question, and his shoulders stiffened with resolved. "Hand over the jewel, Miss Hiarashi and you will stay unharmed." She raised a delicate eyebrow and pulled herself to her full height, letting the book close itself heavily on the desk.
"What jewel?" she queried, her eyes wide and innocent. The smaller of the men, who had obviously shown himself to be their leader, took an angry step forward, his hands ham-sized fists at his sides.
"Don't be a smartass, girl!" he snapped, his dark eyes narrowing. "Give it to us!" A curtain behind Akairo swished gently as it was pushed aside and now there were five in the room - Akairo and the men, and a small, black haired girl with devastatingly black eyes that took in the scene before her. She said something in a lilting language to Akairo, who answered back in the same tongue as she half turned to the girl, displaying her back - and her confidence- to the men, that told them, quite plainly, they were of no threat to her. The raven-haired girl said something with a raised eyebrow that brought a smirk to the face of the other. Akairo tossed her braid over her shoulder and walked around the desk, leaving her friend to man the desk.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you could ever mean," said Akairo in the same accented English as before, as she gave a deep bow of apology. "Please, feel free to look around our shop," she continued, straightening with a sweep of her arm. The man, who had been so irately conversing with the woman before, now grinned wickedly and shared decidedly over delighted glances with his silent cohorts.
"I'll look around alright," he growled, turning his gaze, now filled with fury, back on the braided girl before him, who was unfazed. "Find that jewel!" he ordered of his companions, who both nodded quickly and moved forward into the room. The one nearest Akairo moved to his direct left, where a row of dusty, delicate vases sat in the heavy sunlight that poured in from the outside row. He lifted one, a large cream vase decorated with gold edged swans swimming on swirls of blue, and as he lifted it, it brushed the sides of the vases near it, producing a tinkling sound that brought the immediate attention of the dark haired young woman behind the desk. Her dark eyes narrowed, but she leaned forward nonchalantly on the desk, resting her weight on her elbows.
"I would not do that," she advised calmly, in an accent richer than Akairo's with the hills and pastures of a decadent countryside. The man holding the vase looked at her and his face contorted, as if her words made sense to one part of his mind, but were adamantly ignored by another. His eyes glanced between her shadowy black eyes, Akairo's steel blue, which were relentless on him, and the hard, harsh eyes of his leader, which promised more punishment than either girl could possibly deal out.
"I… uh…" He stuttered, his glances becoming more furvitive , until he took a halting step backwards and let the vase fall from his hands. It fell through the air, to the unpolished wood floor, only to stop, less than an inch from its final destination. There was a collective change in the air - tension, from the three men, and disdain from Akairo. She turned slightly and rolled her eyes over her shoulder at the girl behind the desk, whose eyes now shimmered a brilliant cerulean blue.
"I warned him," said the girl softly. "If you are going to cause trouble, then I will have to ask you to remove yourself from this establishment." The two men in the door backed up, their eyes wide and their skin pale as the vase continued to hover above the floor. They never saw the girl's eyes as they turned and ran, their mission completely forgotten, and nor did they notice the third member of their group who stumbled to catch up with them. The door smacked shut, cutting off the wave of heat from outside that had made the small shop stifling. Akairo bent and grabbed the vase with both her hands, picking it up and placing it back on its rightful spot on the shelf. When she turned, her friend was still leaning over the counter, only now she watched with eyes the color of solid darkness.
"Not bad, but not a good idea either," scolded Akairo, placing both hands on her hips and making a face. "Danae, really, was that necessary?" Danae shrugged her shoulders, causing the sleeve of her shirt to fall further down her arm. She stood, pulling up the errant sleeve as she did so, then pausing to brush the curtain of her loose black curls back.
"I gave them fair warning," she countered, leaning forward again. "Besides, they are gone, are they not? And we have much work to do. You know that this means, of course." Akairo heaved a sigh, but nodded. She walked to the counter, her long skirt making noise that it had not before, and when she stooped to reach around and under the surface, it rustled loudly, like a creature leaping from the bushes on prey formally unsuspecting. She pulled a large black messenger bag out and straightened, slipping it on to her shoulder as she did.
"I need to run to the market," she stated flatly, opening the flap and peering inside her bag. "Danae, go home and pack. We'll pay a visit over to our beloved sister in the north. She'll enjoy that." Danae's brow wrinkled in deep thought and she tapped a fingernail against the hard wood of the desk.
"Did she not say, the last time that we "paid" her a visit, that if she ever came up there again, she would skin us alive?" she wondered, looking to her friend for answers. Akairo grinned broadly and let the flap of her bag fall.
"I think we'll be okay," she replied, gathering up her skirt in one hand. "I'll see you at home, Danae. Pack fast and pack light - we're leaving as soon as possible." Danae nodded, although her face still betrayed her misgivings about this trip, but Akairo seemed confident enough for the both of them. She all but bounced out of the shop, her heels making more noise on the floor than the skirt around her legs. As the door closed behind her, the bell chimed brightly, saying its salutations to its faithful guardian.
It had no idea that it jingled a final goodbye.