Staining the Sand
by Tony Floyd
Chapter 1: The Prostitute and the Wild Man.
As he sat in the still water and admired its gleaming, crystal perfection, Tidus realized that there was no more a beautiful time than the night. He stirred the pool of stars in which he bathed with a long skinny finger and exhaled deeply. It was so quiet out here. The raucous yells and hoots from the tavern could still be heard, and the smell of fornication and liquor was still fresh on his body. But out here, he was safe. Alone with the moon and the stars and the water, his own tranquil paradise. Heaven to the hellish chaos behind him. Tidus shifted. The water was now nearly as cold as the night itself. Could it have been that long already?
Yes. You drank too much you damned fool.
He gripped the sides of the bath and felt the splintered wood dig into his hands, hoisting himself up and letting the cold water rush off his body. He staggered only for a moment and swung one long leg over the side of the bath, stepping onto the hard, dry earth, already darkening for the stray droplets that still ran down his body. He waited until he had dried some more and went to the lantern for his clothes, only to find that they weren't there.
Goddamnit.
But before he could go any further, a smooth female hand came to rest on his chest, followed by another which reached below his waist.
"Why are you getting dressed so fast?" the female voice purred.
Tidus gently shrugged the hands off. "Rikku, I ain't in no mood."
He turned to the bare blonde beauty behind him and accidentally stared for a moment or two. If he wasn't so tired and preoccupied, she'd have easily tempted her favorite customer. Now though, her blue eyes that were mirror images of his own were obedient and apologetic.
"Oh, I-I'm sorry baby. I was just thinkin' we could go to sleep together."
"We already done that. And you and I know sleep ain't got a whole lot to do with it when you and I lay down."
She reached to the ground behind herself and came up again with a bundle of ratty clothes which Tidus gently took from her. Rikku looked at the ground in silence, and before Tidus dressed himself, he took his coat and gently wrapped it around her naked body. This fragile little goddess was only seventeen – only two years younger than Tidus himself. He'd always taken care of her and had a place in his heart where he even treasured her, and though her line of business wasn't really the kind that promised friendship, their relationship was close and caring.
"You wanna come inside for a drink a somethin'?"
Tidus coughed as he pulled his shirt over rugged shoulders. "I already drunk my fill."
He reached into his pockets and produced a roll of bills.
"I didn't take none," she said to him. "You know you ain't got to pay."
Tidus drew up two bills from the roll and replaced them in his pocket before moving closer to Rikku and pressing the remains into her hand.
"Well you could've." he said. "You go find yourself somethin' nice to eat."
Rikku began shaking her head. "Aw, baby I can't take-"
"Just take it, girl. I'm givin't to you. Okay?"
"Okay."
"I'll come back and see you in a week or so."
"Where are you gonna go?"
"I got to find work someplace." Tidus knelt so that he could pull on his boots.
"Oh."
Rikku looked away again, and Tidus gently pulled her towards himself, kissing her on her forehead. After that, he turned away and made for the tree where he'd strung up his horse.
The sun had risen full in the sky now, the orange and purple bits gone; the mountains and trees that it had risen behind looked a lot less dark and ominous. He'd rode southeast for about a good two hours with Cid's legs working overtime, and got himself into some greener country. The grass grew in messy or dead patches, but the trees were tall and strong and invaluable, the shade they provided like little shelters from the hot and sweaty hell that had become the day.
A few more hours on he found a little set of ruins that looked like a promising place to spend the night. They consisted of a stone wall; long, and about a meter and a half wide, broken and bent over backwards about 6, maybe 7 meters up, it was hard to tell. Beside that a little ways over was a cabin that flew colors that were ripped and torn, and the cabin itself was shot full of holes. A few vultures poked around in the sand and the grass. Tidus coughed into his sleeve and demanded that Cid move closer and so they did, creeping no faster than a cat sneaking up on an unsuspecting mouse. Both could see the house easily now, and Tidus gave a tug on the reigns and for a minute or two they just sat there.
Somethin' ain't right.
The door was open, latch blown off by whoever had shot the damn place to hell. Beneath him, Cid grunted uneasily and staggered a bit, causing rocks to crumble and clock their way down the hill they sat perched on. Tidus stroked his main softly.
"You hold still."
He waited until Cid was calmer and sat up again, eyes never leaving the destruction in front of him.
Goddamn.
He ran his fingertips gently across the light beard on his chin. If someone was in there, he would have enough time to bring up a pistol and shoot the bastard from here. But if he was the one to venture inside, there's no telling who or how many could be waiting in there to blow his head off.
Easy, Tidus. He told himself. That's just you imagination runnin' wild. Ain't nothin' in there.
He slowly reached into the bag that hung loosely from his shoulder and drew from it a silver six-shooter, pulling back the hammer as he slipped it into the beaten holster on his right thigh. Then, breathing in and out slowly, he kicked Cid in the sides and they ventured forward.
The door swung open and banged loudly, scattering the vultures and provoking Tidus to draw his pistol with lightning speed. Out from the doorway ran a naked man. He was old, probably in his late forties, and a long, graying beard hung upon his chin.
"At last!" he bellowed, bowing before Tidus, who had lowered his pistol. "Has god finally sent his angel to pass me on to death?"
"What are you talkin' about, man?"
The man rose and quickly ran over to Tidus. "Please! Waste no time, angel! Send me on to my lord and let all be forgiven!"
He reached for Tidus' face, who quickly arched away.
"Man, I don't know what you're on about," Tidus said. "What happened here?"
"Did you not witness it? The slaughter brought on by the false prophet?"
"The false what?"
"Please angel," the man said, cupping his hands together under his chin, "end my life! I am ready!" The man let loose a horrible, wheezy sob.
"Lookit, sir, I said I don't know what the hell yer on about. I ain't no-"
The man suddenly lurched at Tidus and got both hands around the pistol that sat on his lap and jerked it towards his face. On instinct, Tidus fired. The bullet caught the old man in the right corner of his forehead, sending a gout of brains and blood spewing into the air behind him and leaving a gaping, bloody hole that Tidus could've stuck his thumb through. The man's eyes went blank and he fell to the ground, an odd half-smile on his face. Tidus wiped some blood from his eye, leaned over the other side of Cid, and vomited.