Lady Luck's love--Chapter one
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"It's true what they say," Looking at her companion, a young woman with dark red hair smirked slyly, sitting cross-legged on the rough shingles laid out in a simple pattern on the broad roof. The sun had set long ago, allowing the stars to come out and play, burning white-hot in the endless black sky. "A well-balanced meal is having a sweet cake in each hand."
Her friend shook her head in dismay, gold-brown hair quivering about her head. Even in the dark her unique green eyes were noticeable, even more so than in the daylight with the starlight reflecting off them as they were. "Yeah," Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she drew her legs closer to her lithe body.
"Hey, don't turn into a vegetable now. Talk to me." Offering the green-eyed girl one of her sweet cakes, the grinning one bit into her own, stretching her legs out as far from herself as she could. The wind flapped around her skirts and tussled her hair, but she paid it no mind.
"They make me feel insignificant," She accepted the cake handed to her, cradling it softly in her hands.
"Them?" Licking her fingers, the red-head pointed up at the sky with her free hand.
"Yes, them." She nodded curtly.
"Of course they'd make you feel that way! After-all, you are insignificant. To the world that is." Shrugging, she looked back at her friend.
"Gee, thanks."
"Look, I'm in the same boat you are. I'm insignificant too. That's not going to change."
"Maybe."
A comforting silence grew between them, one shared by two people who knew the other better than themselves. Both looked out at the dark horizon, lost in the moment. They sat quietly side by side, unnoticed by the civilians passing by on the street below. This rooftop was their little piece of heaven. A place where they could both just sit, without having to worry about earthly responsibilities.
"I had that dream again."
A golden eyebrow curved at an angle suspiciously. "That one?"
"Yes, that one." Troubling thoughts crinkled her brow.
"Don't worry. We're in the same boat, remember? I can't leave." That produced a smile.
"Promise?" A nod.
"If I ever did, I'd have to take you with me, or I'd never hear the end of it." Laughter eased the tension.
"Good. I'll hold you to that." Reaching out towards her friend with her hand, she smiled, relieved when she returned the gesture. "It's settled then. From the Baker's daughter to the Tailor's daughter."
Enthusiastically shaking her hand, green eyes glimmered in the dim light. A barrier had been placed around and already unbreakable bond. She bobbed her head, a smile gracing her lips. "It's going to rain tomorrow." Wistfully, her eyes grazed the sky once more.
"Really? Doesn't look like it will. Are you sure?" Sceptically, she pondered her words, doubting it since there was not a cloud to be seen in the sky.
"Positive."
"How can you tell?" Interest overwhelmed scepticism.
"I just can."
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A billow of fine golden smoke fanned out around a pair of soft weather-worn boots. The sky above everything thrummed and rumbled, a storm brewing inside its gloomy grey cloak, threatening to unleash its wrath on a moment's notice. The pair of boots apprehensively crunched forward, blazing their own path through many paths marring the sand's silky surface.
Every part of the Colosseum spoke of Austuria's flavourful culture. From the bold and elegant designs chiselled into the pillars holding up the grand arcs -- the entranceway of the Colosseum, to the open roof curved out, covering half of it with a semi-dome that defied gravity. The sheer size of it left mouths agape, eyes blinking, and hearts racing. This was the place of warriors, fighters --champions.
Tournaments were held here for centuries, and would be held here for centuries to come. Bloody chariot races , hand to hand combat, duels between knights, every combat imaginable was staged, all for the public's amusement. Bets were placed on matches, concessions were set up. The Colosseum became a haven for gossiping crowds to come and spend their afternoons. Some came for the conversation, others the food, but what everyone really wanted was to see were the metal giants face each other head to head -- cold iron against cold iron. The Guymelefs.
The brave knights paled in comparison. The bloody chariot races seemed less bloody. Melef battles reigned supreme. They were what the people wanted. Melef fighters and the Melefs themselves were in constant demand, due to their limited numbers. Gaea was going through a relatively peaceful time in its otherwise violent history. Melefs were wanted more for entertainment purposes than on the frontlines.
To attract Melef owners and fighters to Palas, King Aston put cash prizes in place for winning tournaments. It wasn't soon after that a new tradition arose. A royal Melef tournament was held each spring. The prize was a very generous one, and tempting. It attracted Melef fighters from every corner of Gaea imaginable, making the event a very interesting experience.
Patting a majestic ivory pillar solemnly, a figure looked up at the disgruntled sky, jaw set with determination. Long thick dark lashes blinked as the clouds rumbled again, responding to the fat raindrops splashing onto his cheeks. He didn't tilt his face away to avoid the beginnings of the downpour. On the contrary, he embraced the feeling of the cool drops on his face. Soon his inky hair was matted, slick with moisture.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. After all the dreaming he'd done, all the planning and preparation. After all the convincing, work, and training. He was going to do it. He was going to enter that spring tournament and win it, taking away the grand pot that came with it.
Lady Luck willing, of course.
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"You really did mean it when you said you were leaving, didn't you Lord Van?" A sorrowful figure asked timidly, her ears dropping low with bitter disappointment. She had her head bent down slightly, just enough to hide her distinctively feline eyes brimming with warm tears.
The black-haired youth she was addressing could only sigh as he gave one final tug on a knot he was tying, securely fasting a scratchy canvas tarp over a large cart. It barely covered its precious cargo. Moving away awkwardly, his shoulders tense, he slowly opened his mouth to speak. "I--Yeah."
"But--but you can't!" The cat-girl blubbered in frustration, lifting her head up, fists balled together. "You just can't!" Sobs rattled her petite frame. "I don't want you to go! " She shook her head childishly, strawberry hair bouncing off the contours of her small face.
Van squeezed his eyes shut tightly as if he were willing the moment to vanish. "I'm sorry, Merle." Even with his back turned to her, he could picture the hurt expression on her face vividly. He hated it when she cried.
Throwing her arms around his middle she buried her face into his back, her sobs muffled by his loose red shirt. Clinging desperately to the fabric, she mumbled a few incoherent words. Van remained a statue, patiently waiting out her flood of tears. He dared not address her until she had calmed a little. "What if I promise to come back? Would that make it okay?" He whispered to her.
"It…might." She stuttered, wiping her nose on what he knew was his shirt. Rubbing her eyes, she reluctantly let go of her firm grip on him, leaving a giant wet mark on the back of his shirt. "I'll…miss you." Tears threatened to overwhelm her again.
Van turned around and patted her hair affectionately. "I'll miss you too."
"You will?" Her large eyes lit up with joy. Van found himself breaking into a smile.
"More than you know. Behave while I'm gone, okay? Don't give Rhum too hard of a time."
Merle bobbed her head enthusiastically. "I swear on my honour as a cat that I will behave. Cross my tail and hope all my nine lives run out." With her arm bent at an angle, she saluted him, tail flickering behind her like a flag. She smiled comically, despite the wet streaks running down her cheeks.
"I'm holding you to that." Van said, offering her a small smile.
"Hey Van! Are we going or what? I'm not going to wait forever, you know. Let's get a move on." A deep boisterous voice boomed from the cart.
"Coming, Rhum." He replied in a strong clear voice, like he was still trying to convince himself. Shooting Merle one last smile, he dug into his back pocket, pulled out a tiny box wrapped up in a handkerchief, and pressed it into her hands. Her fingers closed around it, brining it closer to her chest.
"Lord Van--" She murmured, her heartbeat blocking out all thoughts.
"Good-bye." He pulled himself up onto the cart with ease. Nodding to the beast-man, he took the seat next to him, tears tickling his eyelids. Rhum nodded back, cracking the reins he was holding in his steady hands, signalling for the shaggy beasts of burden to move.
"Bye," Merle breathed eyes lingering after the cart as it left. Delicately plucking the handkerchief off the box ,she opened it with shaky paws, and almost laughed out loud. She would have laughed, if she hadn't have been so upset over his leave-taking. Inside the box was a small nail file. Van had always been a guarded person, but his caring nature did come out, in the form of small gestures. They didn't have to be big or showy, just enough.
She would miss him. Terribly.
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To be continued...