"Dizzy!"
May's heart was beating wildly beneath her chest when she saw Dizzy pushed overboard by an intruder. She didn't even catch her name, but that didn't matter anyhow; she was gone too. A second after she saw her friend go overboard, an explosion erupted from within the ship, making young May struggle for balance, as well as the other girls around her. She quickly grabbed a hold of the railing to keep herself from winding up like her friend.
It was happening all too fast.
There was silence at first, the kind heard after an accident. May hated that sort of silence. It always meant something was terribly wrong. She turned her head towards Johnny who was standing nearby, staring in disbelief at nothing in particular. His mouth was hanging agape.
"Johnny, what was that?"
At her voice, he snapped himself out of it and turned to his head. Before he opened his mouth, the intercom answered that for him. "Johnny, one of the engines exploded!" April's voice was behind it.
This was bad. Very bad. May still couldn't figure out how the intruder---a musician in red---got onto the Mayship. She almost felt responsible, but then again, it happened so fast though, like the musician in red had everything planned.
"Get this thing landed!" Johnny barked.
"But Johnny," May protested. "What about Dizzy?"
"I know, May, but we need to land first. She couldn't have fallen far. But that was a pretty long fall." He scratched at the back of his head, tilting his hat forward over his brows as he did so.
"I just hope she's okay," May said. And alive, she said to herself.
"We'll all go looking for her after we land," Johnny said. "Have some faith, May."
"I am, I am!" she quickly said. She looked off into the clouds, hoping for some childish reason she would see Dizzy, but no, she knew she was on the ground, hurt. She had to be realistic. She fell a couple thousand feet, and even for a Gear like Dizzy, something was going to get hurt.
She tried again to pick herself up. This time she was able to keep herself on her feet, but the pain was unbearable. She took in a deep breath, trying not let the pain get the best of her. Although, if she wanted to be found by the pirates, she had to get moving, even if her leg cooperated or not. She slowly reached out and took a hold of a branch before she began to step forward, stepping carefully and slowly. She bit down on her lower lip as she moved, and eventually, it began to work. She constantly grabbed onto the trees near her for balance.
Tree by tree, branch by branch, she moved down a narrow path.
As she limped on, she could hear the sound of a trickling stream. It was a beautiful sound to Dizzy's ears. The sounds it made formed harmony into her heart, and even began to make her forget about the pain in her leg. It reminded her of the grove where she came from. Whenever the pirates landed, she always went in search of the nearest forest to explore.
But this forest was cold. There was a bed of dead leaves littering the ground, and all the trees were bare with their twisted, ancient branches reaching for the heavens, as if seeking a salvation from the unforgiving ambient. The fauna wasn't the same as the grove, either. She could hear unseen crows calling from the trees and howls of creatures she never heard before. One even sounded like screeching laughter. It was like walking through a ghost forest. She felt like there were beings following her. But it was only shadows—right?
As she looked over her shoulder, the toe of her boot caught an exposed root, and sent her into the ground. She gasped in pain as her body collided into the cold ground. After she landed, she swore she heard something or someone laughing. Or was that the stream?
That's right, the stream. Follow the stream. Maybe she could follow it until she found a safe place. She cautiously picked herself up and limped towards the sound. She was more cautious this time, watching where she stepped before she could fall again.
She limped her weak body along until she finally saw the quaint stream a short distance away. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. She slowly and carefully limped to the bank of the rushing stream. Frost coated the edge of it, showing her how cold it really was. She supposed the pain in her body made her ignore the bitterness in the air.
She followed the bank, waiting for some sort of salvation to come to her. But something did come across her way. A tiny wooden bridge. And bridge meant people. But were these good people?
Well, she would have to find out. With that bridge, she also saw smoke in the air. That put even more caution to the wind. She was growing more nervous by the minute as she approached the weather-beaten bridge. She grabbed the railing, and stared ahead. There were people here, clear evidence of it. In the short distance was a small wooden cabin---and even closer was a man in black. Their eyes quickly met, and the man went on edge, jolting at her presence. He was wearing a long black coat and had dark red hair. He was carrying an arm full of wood, but when he saw her, he dropped them to the ground. He stared in shock, and that expression brought sadness to her heart. She knew that look.
A human! Necro, howled into her ear. Kill him, kill him!
It's going to snow, he said to himself as he added another log to the fireplace. He stared a long moment at the growing fire in front of him. The fire was beautiful and welcoming this time, but there was a time when he could barely stand to see it. He recalled it wasn't long ago that he would cringe and flinch at the sight of just the tiniest flame, nearly to the point of panic. It brought memories, bad memories he wanted to forget.
"Get out, beast! Get out!"
He closed his eyes, trying to block out the images in his head. He wanted to see darkness, nothing more. No more humans. No more hatred. No more blood.
He closed his eyes until he remembered it was just him here; him and his horse, Nora, who he inherited from a blind man. She was the only company he had, otherwise he may have gone stir crazy, and that was the least he wanted. An insane man like him in the forest was a bad idea.
But he had control. He had complete control now.
He breathed in the air deeply, catching the scent of the burning logs in his nose.
"Monster!"
He exhaled, then opened his eyes to the fireplace. If it's going to snow, he said to himself, I better get more logs in here before it's too late. I can't tell how bad it's going to be. It might be a blizzard for all I know.
He moved to the door and met the chilly air outside. He could smell it, it surely was going to snow, at least by the middle of the night. Earlier maybe. He never liked the snow. What animal did?
He started towards the side of his cabin, and whistled. "Nora, 'ere girl." He looked around the side of the cabin and saw his mare lift her head up to him, her ears flickering. He gave a gentle smile as the mare made her way to him, breathing cold frost as she approached him.
Ky put his hand into her mane as she came up to him. "Ah, it's cold out 'ere, isn't it? Come on." He passed the mare's side, leading her up to her small single stable that was nestled a few paces away. "Inside," he said to her in his thick French accent. "Inside." He pulled the door open and held it as the mare slowly stepped in obediently.
It was like she knew everything what he wanted. There were times he wondered if she understood human speech, even his. He sometime spoke in French to her, and maybe there were times she understood him then, too.
He closed the door to her stable after she was securely inside, and trekked back to the small cabin. He gathered an arm full of already chopped wood laying nearby and brought them inside, setting them near the burning fireplace, then returned to the pile for another stack.
As he took more from the pile, he noticed something at the corner of his eye. Something that didn't belong here. He turned his head to the bridge and saw someone coming. They crossed the old wooden bridge slowly.
He then dropped the logs in his arms as he looked more closely at the figure crossing the bridge. She had wings and a tail. She was clearly a Gear. He could sense it. The Gear in him could sense it. He stared hard at her, barely able to take his eyes off her.
He hadn't seen a Gear in so long. It was a stunning thing to see after so long. They stared at each other for several intense moments, while the female clung to the edge of the bridge. Ky's tense body loosened a bit the longer they looked at each other.
Something didn't seem right about her.
He carefully stepped towards her, and then—
"I'm sorry," she whimpered.
"I'm sorry?" he asked with a tilt of his head.
Her dark wing then arched over her head, revealing for a brief moment a cloaked figure,
but he couldn't make up what it was. The Gear then charged forward, and swung her arm at him, suddenly encased in armor and nails. He dashed to the side out of the way, but somehow managed to trip on his own feet.
Oh how graceful.
He landed right on his backside, staring up at the female Gear before him. "No, wait," he said. "What are you doing? Stop!" He scurried to his feet, and took a quick step back just as something erupted from the ground. A giant shard of ice. His eyes went wide as he stared at it. It was right in front of his nose. If he hadn't moved then, he might have been. . . .
Ky looked over to the female Gear to see her hold her head and gasp. An old instinct told him to look down, a ghost voice, and when he did, he saw the ground beneath his feet beginning to open up as if hell were trying to swallow him. He jumped back just in time, landing on his heels, but the leaves under his boots made him slip again. His feet went out from under him and sent him tumbling down towards the bank of the stream. Thankfully, though, he caught himself.
He looked up at the female Gear again, his fingers dug into the half frozen ground. He watched how her legs wobbled and forced her to collapse to her knees. She sat there, swaying a bit, holding the side of her head.
There was peace for a moment, allowing him to get a slight grip on himself. He stayed there on the ground, lifting himself up by his arms and leaned on his hip to take a closer look at the attacking Gear. She didn't move or show any sign of any readiness to attack him again. All seemed clear.
He slowly got to his feet, then cautiously made his way up to the fallen Gear. "M-madamoiselle?" He could see goosebumps on her exposed skin. She had to be freezing in the outfit she was wearing. Absolutely freezing. The cropped jacket and black bikini she was wearing had no cold weather protection what-so-ever. What was she doing in that around here anyway?
"I'm...I'm s-sorry," she stammered as she shivered, keeping her arms tightly crossed against her chest. At least she had some coverage on her arms.
He didn't take his eyes off her. He watched as she lifted her head and met her soft red eyes with his. He never saw such eyes on a Gear before. They almost seemed human. "Where did you come from? Did somebody send you?"
"No," she said. "I'm sorry I attacked you. I'm lost."
"Why did you attack me?"
"I got scared," she said.
"You scared me too," he said, and forced a weak grin. "You're not going to attack me again, are you?"
"No," she said.
"Then let me help you up." He held his hand to her, but instead of taking his hand, she stared at it, and he had a feeling he knew exactly what she was staring at.
Don't stare at the scar. Don't stare at the scar. Just take my hand, that all I want you to do.
She finally took his hand gently, but when he pulled her to her feet, she gasped as she stood, and stumbled into him. He caught her as she went into his chest.
"What's wrong?"
"My leg hurts."
He forced his eyes to look down on her, down to her legs. There were several bruises and scratches on her.
"Here, sit down a moment." He wrapped one of her arms around his shoulder as he aided her to sit down on the ground. Nervously, he touched his hands down to her thigh, down to her lower leg. That was when he felt the break. "Your leg's broken."
"It is?"
He nodded slowly. "I'm afraid so. Listen, I live in that cabin there," he said, pointing. "I normally wouldn't say this, but if you come in, I can set it for you. I can't let you walk around on the broken leg or you're going to damage further."
"If you're a nice person," she said.
He found himself to look into her soft eyes again. "I'd like to think I am. Now. Will you?" He offered his hand to her again. She nodded, and took his offer again. He carefully lead her to the inside of the cabin, making sure he walked slowly with a pace she could keep up with, his arm wrapped around her while she put her weight into his side. The walk to the front door seemed longer than it should have been. His mind was a jumble of what to say to her. It had been too long since he had a conversation with anyone.
"Just take it slow," he said. "Don't worry about anyone else. I'm the only one around here. There isn't anyone for miles." He finally reached for the door then and led her inside the warm and dim room. The fireplace was the only source of light. He caught her looking around at the corner of his eye, taking in the sight of the den. It was an orderly but bland place, yet it had a bit of class, much like its new owner. A small couch was pressed up against the wall on the left, while a stuffed chair was nestled near the fireplace. A short coffee table was set beside it. Above the fireplace, a long wrapped object was hung like a hunter's trophy, but what laid under it was no longer a trophy.
"You have a nice place. How long have you been here?"
"A few years. It was passed down to me by a stranger, actually." He felt her stumble forward, and quickly grabbed a hold of her waist and brought her back to him before she could hit the floor. "Stay still. Here, here, why don't you sit down?" He gestured a hand to the fireplace and carefully led her there. He held her by the shoulders as he allowed her to sit down. "Careful. Don't put any weight on that leg."
She sat with no more surprises or falls. Once she was down, he released his hands from her body and stood up again. He placed his fist by his mouth as he looked down on her, studying her.
"Now I think I need to find a splint for your leg after I set it," he said, and glanced left and right, searching for something stiff, like a piece of wood that would be able to hold her leg. He spotted a broom near the open kitchen, but did he really want to sacrifice it?
"Have you done this before?" the Gear asked.
He turned his head back to her. "No." He turned then, heading out the door and back into the cold air. If he wasn't going to sacrifice his broom, then something better would have to do, something he could use without really missing it. He licked his lips in thought as he looked around himself, then trekked back over to the wood pile. Of course he could find something here. His eyes searched the ground by the pile, and just as he expected, a broken branch was laying there. He picked it up and examined it.
It would have to do.
He lowered it to the ground and stomped on the center of it, breaking it in half. It left no dangerous splinters that would hurt the Gear if it pressed into her flesh. Besides, who heard of a piece of wood hurting a Gear? He had lived with them most his life. He knew they were hearty, but this one seemed different. Very different.
He headed back into the cabin and dropped the two pieces by her. "I'll be right back." He felt her eyes on him as he walked past her without looking at her and straight into his bedroom. He knelt down by the side of his bed, and pulled out a neatly folded sheet from under it that had been tucked away. With it in hand, he then stood up and lifted his pillow to reveal a dagger laying under it.
Sometimes, old habits die hard.
He then returned to the Gear, who watched every move he made. He noticed her eye the dagger especially hard. He unfolded the sheet, letting the air unravel it. The Gear still didn't take her eyes off him. He slit a hole into the sheet and began tearing them into strips, until he had three sections of them torn out.
"Do you know what you're doing?" the Gear asked him.
He knelt down in front of her. "Not really. But it can't be that hard. Right?" He lifted his head and watched how she stared at him. She looked like she was close to running for the door by the look on her face. He couldn't help but grin. "Do you trust me?"
"I really don't know you, but—"
"Do you trust me?"
Her eyes wandered as if searching for an answer. He didn't blame her, thought, he didn't even trust himself.
"Yes," she then said slowly. "If you can fix my leg, then I trust you."
He passed her a reassuring grin, one of his famous fake grins he could trick anyone with, then scooted closer to her. He nearly saw her muscles tense from under her skin as he moved closer. He began to reach for her leg, but then paused and looked up at her again. "You're not going to attack me again if I do hurt you, are you?"
She shook her head.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded.
He sighed, hoping what she said was true. He knew how snappy Gears could get when they were in pain. He had been bitten by a few in his younger years, Gears that had been apart of his band, his family. But then again, this one. . . .
He slowly reached out and placed a hand upon her knee. Just as he began to move it down to her shin where the break was placed, he paused and looked up at her. "Listen, if you do feel that you may lash out at me," he said, then passed her the remains of the sheet. "Hold onto that. I'm not sure how much you can tolerate pain."
"Okay." She wrapped her hands around the sheet like a child would a favorite teddy bear.
He looked down on her leg again, struggling to keep his eyes solely on that leg. He placed his hands around her calf, and let his fingers feel for the break on her shinbone. Once he felt it, he pressed both hands on the bone and began pressing on it, then pulled and pushed again. He tried not to look at the Gear as she gasped and cried out in pain. He felt her begin to pull away, but he only tightened his grip around her leg. "Just hang on," he said as he worked. "If you cooperate, this won't take long. Ah, I don't believe I got your name."
"D-Dizzy," she whimpered.
"Dizzy," he repeated, with his accent adding more charm to the name. "I'm Ky." He pressed on her leg, and then finally felt the bone slip into place. "Stay still, Dizzy, stay still. I think I got it." She moaned as he ran his hand along her smooth shin, covered by her thigh-high stocking. It shined against the reflection of the flames nearby. "Yes, I think I did." He then turned his head and reached for the sticks behind him. "Are you alright, Dizzy?"
It took her a while to answer behind her sobs and whimpers. "Umm. . .y-yeah. Are you done?"
"Almost." He braced both sticks against her leg, one against the back of her knee, then began to wrap them tightly. "You've been doing very good. How did you break it in the first place?"
"I fell."
"I see. Well, it didn't seem too bad. Thank you for not trying to attack me. You did well." He slowly lifted his head up and found her once again staring at him.
You know why she's looking at you like that, don't you? he told himself. She's staring at your eyes, like everyone else. Soon she's going to ask questions. He looked across from under his brows. "Dizzy, I've noticed you've been staring at me oddly. Is there something you—"
"I've seen you before," she suddenly said.
That took him back. He sat back with his knees up and eyed her carefully.
You know what she means. She thinks you're him.
"What?"
"Your face looks so familiar," she said. "I swear I've seen you before."
"No," he said. "I think it's just a coincidence. We haven't seen each other before." He stood up then. "I suggest you rest for now. Were you alone when you broke your leg?"
"I am now," she said. "But my friends should come looking for me soon."
He barely heard her, as if he was drowning everything else out. He strode away from her slowly, towards the window with his arms crossed. What if she did meet him before? What if she knows him?
Then we have a problem.