Chapter Two

I headed east to Jein. Jein is the major port city of Salidemthia. Back then Jein was the place to go if you were looking for adventures. It was a wild city full of surly sailors and cunning cons. It was said that even the barmaids could pick a cow up by its nostrils. The city itself was like its residents, huge and dark. It seemed to me, having only lived in small towns all my life, that the people who lived on one side of town probably had no idea how to get around the other.

I arrived at the town a little before sunset and proceeded to try to figure out a pattern to the town. This proved useless and a waste of time. The town was like the mind of a mentally ill man; streets would go one way then double back on themselves, others would go for a hundred yards then end at a building. It was the result of expanding far too quickly. There was no order on the streets either. There'd be a deli, a blacksmith's, and a school all next to each other with another deli right across the street. All of them seemed to be competing with each other for visitors, like if they didn't get customers the world would end. They would leave their stores to berate the other store owners if it was slow. They would even haggle on the street if it they didn't feel like walking back inside. To my surprise even the school teacher was out in the streets trying to persuade parents to send their children to school. The school, I noticed, derelict.

By the time it started to get dark I still hadn't found an inn. I was walking down the street when I heard the loud sound of a troupe of horns. I looked around quickly and noticed that all the people that were quarreling in the streets and in the stores had suddenly stopped and were walking in different directions. All the store owners were locking the doors to their shops and heading home.

"Better head home quick little girl!" called a tall, bearded man. "You wouldn't wanna be caught out af'er curfew!"

"Excuse me Sir," I called back. He stopped and walked towards me.

"Is there something I kin help you with youngin'?" he asked as he looked me up and down.

"I hope so Sir," I said in my most defenseless and humble voice. "You see Sir, I'm visiting this town with older sibling, we're from Palané, and I can't seem to remember how to get back to our inn. I accidentally got separated from him in a crowd and I've been trying to get back all afternoon."

The man looked sorry for me. "Aw, poor dear. Listen, I wish I could show ya to da inn meself, but tares no way that I could make it back to me own home 'n time." I made sure to give him the saddest and most disappointed face I could muster. "But this 'ere's what I'm gonna do for ya." He bent down and put an arm around my shoulder. He pulled me close to him and put his finger out. "If ya go down that-a-way and make a right at da next street, and be quick about it too, you may be able to catch ol' Nick. Tell him that Ballin sent ya and tell him where yas be staying. 'E goes by a good 'mount o' inns on his way home and should be able ta either get ya to yours or close 'nough to it."

"Thank you Sir!" I said brightening my visage.

"Not a problem little one, jis make sure ya catch Nick."

"I will Sir!" I cried as I curtsied and ran off.

As soon as I was around the corner that the man called Ballin had pointed out I took my gold bag off of my belt and added a few coins to it. I smiled and congratulated myself for the brilliant act.

I walked off with a little bounce in my foot and saw a man closing up his shop. The sign above it read Nicholas' Good Olde Weapons. I walked over to him and repeated my performance.

"Well, which on' is it?" He asked as we started down the street.

I thought hard for a few seconds then sighed and tightened my throat. I made a sound like I was going to cry. "I-I don't remember the name of it Sir. I-It's the big one."

The man started pointing at invisible things in the air and looked like he was very nearsighted. He mumbled for a while but eventually spoke up. "You mean the E.S.M.M?"

It was my turn to think, or at least pretend to, and then I shook my head. "No, Sir, I don't think so. Isn't there another."

"Well, if that isn't it then it's got to be that really rowdy one, and I don't that that's where you're stayin'."

I continued "thinking" and then nodded a little. "You're probably right. That one must be it. The E.S.M.M.," I clarified.

He chattered the whole way there and I was glad to finally get rid of him. I waited at the door until he was out of sight then walked off down the alley. The place he had dropped me off at really was big. It looked more like a mansion than an inn and it had a pair of big, brawny men standing by the door. I didn't think that I had the money to spend on a place like that or if I'd even want to. I could easily settle for something less costly. And I did.

The inns were the only things grouped together and were from that day on a reference point for me. They stood a block away from the docks, which was considered the center of town. The innkeeper at the small inn I stayed in was always looking at me funny but I eventually led him to believe that I was four years older than I actually was; that took a few weeks stay and some extra silver pieces at breakfast. Because it was center city there was always something happening and I was awaken every morning by the singing of bards and the yelling of sailors.

I kept myself from being bored in the evening by visiting some of the other "more rowdy" inns and watching fights. I was very impressed by the fighters who were about as two-faced as myself. They would drink and drink and would honestly seem drunk, but when a fight started they would come out on top without getting a single injury. I made friends with one of them named Philippe.

I bought him drinks once in a while and he bartered his stories to me. They were always funny and full of adventure. They were what I had always longed for. I hoped that by the time I was his age I'd be able to tell someone stories as dramatic as his own. I was a little hesitant when around him at first because I didn't believe he'd think anything of me. What with my being young and a girl. But he didn't seem to notice and I figured it was because of the large amounts of alcohol he imbibed. But one day he shocked me.

The night had started out rather oddly. When I had walked in I had noticed that a local cleric was sitting at one of the tables by the bar. I also saw Ballin laughing with Nicholas and some other guys. It was strange because I knew from talking with Ballin and Nicholas that they did not drink. I doubted the cleric did either.

I had calmly sat down at the bar and greeted the barman like I did everynight. He seemed cheerful enough and I bought a drink for Philippe. I began talking to Philippe about some of the adventures I had today that I could tell in public. He didn't seem to hear me but after a couple minutes spoke up.

"Your parents abandoned you, didn't they?" He whispered. He seemed incredibly sober as he stared at his mug.

I was stunned at first that he had figured it out, and when that was done I was stunned at the mere idea of it. I had never really faced the fact that I had been abandoned. His vocalizing it seemed to trigger a deep sense of remorse in me. I felt my eyes glaze over but I did my best to keep it from going any farther than that.

"You are afraid of going to an orphanage," he told me. "You don't want to be just another one of those forgotten kids."

"And so if I was abandoned," I sniffed boldly and straightened my posture so that I was looking over my nose. "So what if I don't want to go to some stupid orphanage. It's my life. I'm entitled to do whatever I want to do with it."

That was my excuse that I had always used for myself. But at that moment it didn't seem so complete and final.

"How do you get your money, Chris?" Chris was a name I was using.

"That's my business," I responded quickly. I didn't like where this was going.

"I don't think so, my good friend." His voice was deep and hollow, but it was slowly filling up with anger. "Tell me; is it true that you're a thief? Just tell me your not, friend, and we'll go on like this moment never happened. We can go back to swapping drinks for stories and be happy."

I wanted to tell him that I wasn't and I should have had no problem doing so. But I couldn't get the words out. I felt like telling him the truth, but I knew that would ruin everything. So I clamped my jaw closed.

"I asked you a question Chris." Philippe started to stand up. "Is it true that you've stolen from almost every person you've met? Is it true that when you arrived here you entice a man to show you where an inn was and after he told you, you robbed him? Is this true Chris?"

He was now towering over me. I looked up and felt so completely powerless. My lips quivered as I tried to tell him no but the words would not come out correctly. He seemed more sad than angry in my mind. He was my best and only friend but we seemed at that moment to be strangers.

"I don't care that you're living for yourself, Chris," he continued. "I don't care if you don't want to go to some orphanage; you're right, it's your life. But I cannot tolerate being in the presence of a thief." His voice yelled out and everything in the inn was instantly quiet. "I haven't told you this, Chris, but I was like you in some ways when I was little. I was parentless as well, that's how I can sympathize with you. But my parents didn't leave me. No, we were one small, loving family. But when I was about your age our house was robbed. My father tried to stop the thief and got a knife through the heart. My mother… well, she was severely dishonored before she died.

"It's because of this that I can never, ever willingly stand in the same room with a scoundrel like that. It is my sworn duty to kill every rouge who thinks he, or she, can manipulate people. I may be a drunkard, but I have my honor."

There was a pause that seemed to stop time and sound. Finally, with his eyes ablaze in brilliant glory, he whispered to me, "I'm sorry Chris, if that is your real name…"

It all happened in an instant. I was immediately on my feet running through the maze of tables. I could hear Philippe crashing after me. Then I heard a loud bang. I didn't bother to look back to see what it was. I saw a man standing in front of the door. It was Ballin. I changed my direction and sprinted onto a chair, then a table, and then jumped at the window. I tucked myself into a little ball and clenched my cloak around me. The glass almost felt as solid as bricks as I hit it. Then it broke and I was in the night air.

I hit the ground and rolled. I staggered as I got up and tried getting my bearings. Normally Philippe walked me back to my inn to protect me from the gangs that roamed after curfew. Without him I'd have to take my chances. I heard yelling in the inn and looked around for a place to run. I was light headed which distorted my vision. I caught a glimpse of a dark alley and ran for it. I always went for the darkness when I was in trouble.

I made it into the alley and hid behind what I identified by touch and smell as an empty ale barrel. I held my breath to slow my breath and could hear my heart clearly in my head. I could hear a little bit over that pulsating muscle and made out the sound of Philippe yelling. My head had settled but my whole body was shaking in fear. I had never known so much fear from a man. I turned my head and peaked down the ally. The silhouette of Philippe was standing at the entrance to the alley, leaning to one side a little. He was yelling something but I couldn't make it out, perhaps because of some weird mix of his drunken slur and the loud beating of my heart. But I got the idea. He hated me and he would hunt me down until he killed me. It was his unbreakable oath.

Without realizing it I started to sob. Philippe must have heard me because when I looked up he was standing there. I screamed in between sobs at his upraised hand. Something in him seemed to soften at the noise and his hand hesitated. Suddenly he was struck from behind by some glowing projectile. He grunted and turned around. I screamed again. I was finally realizing that I wasn't as tough as I thought I was. My mind was shattered by all the surprises and shock it had gone through already.

Philippe's body jerked as a crossbow bolt struck near his heart. He dropped to his knees and grabbed the bolt. Then I saw a figure rise up behind him. At this point I was screaming and crying hysterically because of the incredible breakdown of my world.

Philippe was at my feet, unmoving a second later. I curled up into an even tighter ball trying to back into the little corner between the barrel and the wall. I wanted to be very far away from my dead friend. I had killed him. If I had just told him the truth, maybe I could have repented for my crimes. Maybe that's what he wanted me to do. Maybe he was planning on sparing me if I had told him the truth.

But I was stubborn and too prideful and now he was dead because I led him into this alley that was being occupied by some merciless gang. The best thing that could happen now was for me to die.

But the worst thing possible happened.

A dark figure suddenly was in front of me as I was crying and sobbing.

"We've saved you Chris." The voice caressed my ears and promised me many things. "Now it's time for you to join us. It's what you want. To become stronger, to have adventures."