When Snow Falls: Apprenticeship.
Chapter 2.
A Stranger named Alex.
I looked down at the map of the entire city as I found myself wandering down the sidewalks in some confusion, trying to figure out where in the hell I was exactly. It was a large place and I'd never once stepped foot anywhere in this fucking labyrinth of a town until now, but I should still be able to look down at this piece of jumbled up mess of writing on paper and figure out where the fuck I was, but no matter how many times I studied it, I couldn't find a single point of reference that would guide me.
"Fucking nine hell's. If you're gonna make an overly detailed map, scale-to-size or something!" I screamed out in frustration as I tore the map apart, only regretting what I'd spent on something that had essentially just become litter and mulling over my ideas to go back to the information booth I'd found when I'd arrived and break the kneecaps of the scam artist running the god's damn thing, then break them again! Maybe he'd learn how to make a decent map during his stay in a hospital, hopefully being the shitty kind of place because I was just that cross. A few round trips in and out of a medical facility had to be good for the soul, after all, maybe open up a few eyes, especially with such a severe case of broken as hell kneecaps. I was optimistic he wouldn't learn his lesson though, because I figured being the one to put him there was just as nice, especially when it was repeatedly.
I just let out an angry filled sigh before not bothering to even think about it; throwing a tantrum over it wasn't gonna do me much, and I didn't need anything else added onto my troubles, run in's with the local law enforcement being one of them.
No map and no real idea where in the city I was. I was right fucked, wasn't I?
"Right in the down under," I said with an all too familiarly angry bitch tone to the sound of my voice as I took my palm to my face in annoyance, walking on with aimless intent as I figured at some point I'd stumble upon something that'd put me back on the right track.
"The right track was about three miles back that way," I told myself as my fingers reminded me of the direction I'd come from, back at the information booth outside the station. "Your dumb ass just happened to stop at not only the cheapest fucking looking stand but also buy the cheapest fucking map he had."
I always tended to have small arguments with myself, both in my head and right out in the open. Like a fucking madman. I'd gotten the same looks enough times by now to understand what I was.
"And that is?"
A gods damn lunatic.
"Everyone's a bit crazy. Why am I singled out for being just a bit more than normal?" Because those people didn't spend just about every waking moment in a constant discussion with themselves? Maybe? "As far as you know."
I pondered the question as I spotted a small bar or saloon not too far off in the distance, some kind of entertainment district surrounding it.
It was old, run down, and had dirt covering just about every inch with an even worse bunch standing outside it's doors. How this place and them could go so long without a wash was beyond me; months judging by the stench. All manner of low tier scum from just about every walk of life gathered around, already drunk or close to getting there. God's only knew what bad choices in life had led these men and women here to the same place as me.
Before I entered this fine and respectable establishment, I took a moment to let my gaze fall to a smiling woman, being harassed by about three overly intoxicated men, all reeking of about a week's worth of old sweat and booze and acting more aggressive than they needed to be as they inquired her about her services. Something told me they'd picked up a bottle one day and never stopped drinking, yet I wasn't focused on them.
The girl was maybe 13 or 15, just at first glance. Another one told me she was a prostitute, just out on a nights work, but looking at her, I started to think of myself, and the position I was in. It wasn't my bad choices that'd lead me here in the pit of the city, it was someone else's. How many others here had the same story? And was it my story she shared? Stuck in the same boat with no way off as he drifted through a river trying to drag us down into dark depths.
I caught sight of her meet my gaze, and for a moment we just stared back at each other. I could almost see her pleading with me to save her, but a moment was all we shared. I turned my eyes and walked through the doors. I wasn't a savior. I couldn't save her. I was still trying to save myself. If I was any body's last hope, then they were as fucked as I was.
Passing through into the building, I almost recoiled in disgust as the stench was so much worse than what I'd smelled outside, ignoring whatever toxic gas lingered in the air as I walked up to the bar and took a seat, listening to the tunes coming from an old piano somewhere in the place played by some drunk bastard playing it to the best of his abilities. It was still shit work. If this was who they'd hired, they were probably paying him in drinks.
I scouted out everyone in the place, since I would be sharing space with them for a time, mostly to pass time and make note of anyone that might cause trouble, or give me the help I needed. I was looking for either a ride to take me further into the territory, or work that would have me head out that way. Nothing of noteworth was found, just sadness and whiskey from all those there. Nothing that would aid me, or anything I was interested in. I did take notice how much more filth covered the area actually was on the inside. Like someone had just taken heaps of shit and thrown them just to see how far they could reach. And I wasn't just talking about how clean the place was. Its clientele wasn't much better.
Eventually, the bartender made her way over to me as I looked out across a sea of drunkerds, watching grown men and women fight and piss every cent they had just to forget about the world for a few hours, or for enough cash and if they were in a dark enough place, they could drink or fuck themselves to death. It was almost sad really.
She stared down at me with a strange gaze, looking me over some with interest. I didn't imagine she saw many people walk through her doors being my age, but in this town, I knew she'd seen it more times than she'd cared to count, or if she didn't happen to care who's hands lined her pockets with gold, didn't keep count at all. Whatever made her a living. "How old are you kid?" She asked with an inquisitive tone as I looked back to her with a kind of annoyed huff.
"42. The fuck do you care?" I retorted as I turned back in my seat to face her, getting a shrug out of her with a glare thrown in, slapping her hands down on the bar. "You're right, I don't. But it concerns me if you can't pay. Do you even drink?"
I immediately threw a couple of copper coins onto the counter at her to answer her question, a blank and almost dead expression on my face as I looked at her. "Only on my good days."
She seemed a bit surprised by this, probably more use to the bums that didn't pay their tabs and tried to stiff a few drinks.
"And on the bad?" She questioned me as she grabbed for the cleanest glass she had, which even then, wasn't saying much as it still had a touch of grime smeared across it. "I get drunk," I said to her as I took the glass and waited for my drink. "What's your poison?" She asked, looking at the selection of drinks she had, nothing that peeked my interest, but I'd drink what she had available. "Just pour me whatever those coins will get me." I told her, getting her into work as she grabbed what my coin would get me; A bottle of Silverhill Bourbon was what she poured me. Bourbon wasn't my favorite, especially Silverhill, but it was just to start off. I grabbed my glass and threw it into the back of my throat, twisting my face up some for a second before it passed, and I finished off the rest. Shit was even more foul than I remembered, but a drink was a drink.
"What brings you through my doors, love?" She asked in an almost flirtatious sugary tone as she poured me another, making sure I could clearly see her tits, and when I went to pull out the coin to pay, she raised her hand up to stop me. "On the house." She said with a wink.
I wasn't looking to fuck tonight, if that was her way of getting some extra coin out of me if I got drunk enough. It'd only leave me depressed and regretful anyway, so I just blew off all the coming onto. My age didn't seem to matter if that got her my cash, I thought of her. Maybe she was depraved enough.
I nodded in appreciation before taking it, downing it, and placing the glass back on the counter, before she'd changed her mind. "Much obliged. Now, as to why, I'm looking for someone that knows the land well enough to guide me where I'm going, and if no one here that fits that description," I said, knowing full well there wasn't a single one here that did. "then maybe some work." I explained myself to her as I held my glass up, to which she flashed a smile; I wouldn't get another free one so soon. The work would be very welcomed, down to about 10 pieces of silver and some leftover copper. The last thing I should be spending coin on was these shitty drinks, but I'd been around these types of scenes enough to know how to get bartenders to cooperate. Flash a little money their way, down whatever they poured you, and you only had to worry about getting them to shut up before they had to worry about you not shutting up.
I rolled my eyes and threw in more than last time. "None of that bottom shelf crap. Give me the good shit." She pocketed my money once more with a grin and reached for something better tasting, and to my delight, pulled off a bottle of cinnamon whiskey, my eyes flashing in pure delight as she filled up my cup once more. I preferred whiskey to anything else; I found it just strong enough to make me reach that particular level of inebriation where I forgot about my troubles, but not enough to get drunk quickly. "Watch how much you drink kid. You don't want to get shit faced around here."
I took the glass and raised it to her in appreciation for the tip before chugging my choice of drink, shivering in delight the moment it hit, feeling warmed by its sweet and bitter touch. Sometimes when I drank whiskey, it was almost what I imagined being embraced by a mother that didn't love you felt like. Sweet to a child that needed affection, but that fucking bitterness because you knew she didn't give a fucking shit about you. I didn't actually know that feeling because I'd never even gotten that from my own mother. And that rightly pissed me off.
"Another," I told her in a darker tone than I'd had seconds ago, to which in a touch of fear, she poured me another round without getting my next payment out of instinct or preservation. He life wasn't worth a few more drops, and I polished it off just as quickly, feeling my rage subside for the time being as I relaxed. But as soon as something else came along, I'd get just as furious. When the whiskey started coming, I started throwing my fist around, usually not far behind the first swig. One cup was enough to get my blood boiling, two calmed me down, but kept me on edge, ready to fight. And three was somewhere in between. These poor bastards didn't know me well enough to keep their heads down when I started hitting the sauce, and I didn't care enough to warn them. Gods help them if I ever hit four.
"If you've got any leads I'll pay." I told her as I flipped my cup over and set it down, signaling I'd had my fill.
"Depends on where you're headed." She told me as she grabbed a booklet from her counter, to what was written in its pages I didn't know.
"Any other major cities I guess." I explained to her before she grabbed a map as well, opening it up and showing me all of the territory. "There's only about three other major cities," She explained as her fingers drifted along the paper, showing me where each was. "We're in Lance right now, it's the farthest from Winter-Moor," she flashed a smile as she told me some of the city. "It's also the shittiest. Percy is the closest to it, but that's pretty down east wise. That's maybe a week or two at best, and then it's even longer to actually get to the colony."
"There's only four cities in this entire kingdom?" I asked her, confused some.
"Big place, I know, but there's more towns and villages scattered around each city."
I studied the map extensively, somehow surprised to see a map actually worth a damn, and wondering if I could steal it off of her.
I would guess this Winter-Moor would be a very good place to start my search in earnest, being the epicenter of this country and all from what I'd heard, but I didn't have the time to waste on that. I had to think about this from the perspective of a man on the run from dangerously deranged assassin's tracking my every move. If I were hiding out, it'd be somewhere out of the way, somewhere I wouldn't go to for any reason whatsoever. Where nobody could find me.
A place so back alley and inconvenient, you'd get lost the second you took one wrong step, someplace I could get lost in myself. That eliminated the capital itself, too well known and too crowded and busy. Too many people to watch out for. Easy to get lost in, sure, but not enough to keep myself hidden for long. Which also meant any other major cities were out of the question as well. Maybe a small town. Maybe not even then.
She spoke more about the territory and its landmarks and livings, but I tuned it out some as I spotted one place to the far northeast, nothing shown on the map in its place, and nothing surrounding it for miles. Just an empty nothing all around. It wasn't like the other places on the map, there wasn't even a small town near it.
If I were a betting boy..."And I am, it's a serious problem..." I mumbled under my breath, which the bartender passed off as drunken ramblings, then that's where I'd wager he'd be.
But because I didn't have anything to go off of, it was a real long shot. Call it a gut feeling, but it was a strong one. This way I could still pass through Winter-Moor, just to be sure.
"What's the quickest way to get to the capital?" I suddenly asked her, to which she opened up her book and read from it. "Well, I have a caravan delivering a shipment to Percy at the end of the month, that's the best I can do for you. And if you're looking for work, I can take you on as a guard."
I thought about my options at that point; This probably wasn't the only choice I had, but the end of the month was only about 4 weeks away at the most. This was also a paying gig, and in the meantime, I could probably learn some more about the territory itself. Maybe find myself a better option, but in the meantime, this was a fallback.
"What makes you think I'm qualified for this?" I asked her before she motioned to the blade holstered on my hip. "You seem like you can handle yourself well enough, otherwise I doubt you'd have walked through my doors."
I gripped the handle some after her mention of it. The sword was more of a keepsake than anything, and while I'd never drawn it on another person before, that didn't mean I hadn't practiced with it of course. I was pretty good with my fist too. Yet I'd never actually killed anyone, that kind of violence wasn't my forte, never needed too, but I'd bloodied my fair share of noses and broken enough bones to know how to keep on my feet. Mostly potential rapist and thieves. They never expected someone my age to put up much of a fight. I'd lost count of how many of them I'd come across, though they weren't always after me. I had a bit of a soft spot for other pariah's when I drank.
"What's it pay?" I asked her, to which she got a pen and added another name to the crew of the caravan. I assumed the pay was good if she'd taken to doing so even before my answer.
"How's 25 Silver sound?" She offered me, to which she had been right. That wasn't something I'd turn down easily.
"Less than 30." I said, which was also fair, considering the distance of the trip and the time it would take, even if I was heading out that way. I wasn't stupid. I had a policy of always having enough on me to make a big purchase if an expense like that ever came along, mostly in case I needed to pay for a steep ticket for passage. This was basically killing two rocks with one bird.
I was really glad I hadn't drank anymore.
"Deal." She agreed almost immediately, worrying me some. I'd never been able to haggle that easily.
"What's the catch?" I questioned her, suddenly suspicious of the job.
"No catch, just not enough people were signing on. I was actually considering cancelling my shipment this time around," She said with a smile, since this job was almost guaranteed danger now, and we'd already made the deal. "But with you, I've got just enough to safely send the crew."
I groaned some before nodding. Hopefully, I'd find that better option. I'd play along for now.
"What's your name hun?" She asked as she gave him a small bottle of cinnamon whiskey for my troubles and as a reward for saving the day.
"Alex Sinbad." I told her as I took the bottle, watching her write my name down before she also handed me a bag of what sounded like coin.
I looked at her a tad confused, but happily took it, not wanting to be rude. My bullshit excuse to be selfish. "An extra 20 Silver, as a sign on bonus."
I appreciated the extra cash on hand, grabbing for it before she changed her mind, only to have her hand latch onto mine.
"Be here exactly four weeks from now," She told me as she shot me a glare, squeezing it some to make sure I listened. "And don't you even think about running off before the job is done, you hear me?" She threatened me with a wave over to a few brutish looking thugs who sent a smile my way, armed to the teeth. Her collectors and enforcers no doubt.
"Yes ma'am." I said with a nod as I took my belongings and moved from my seat, leaving the bar and this god foresaken establishment behind as I made my way towards the exit. I was just honourable enough to follow through on this because of my word alone. That, and because I'd already taken her money for the job. Her goons were also an incentive to not cross her, but I wouldn't tell her that. I wasn't too worried about them regardless. If there ever was an aspect about a job that concerned or worried me, I wouldn't take it, and her crooked thugs weren't even a passing thought.
Even if I had been, I still would have taken the job. This was a rare opportunity for me to be paid, to travel to where I was going no less. Hopefully, I didn't find myself getting fucked over this time around.
I looked down at the bottle of my favorite drink as I made my way out, more than happy to be on my way with one for the road, pressing my thumb against the cork, a quick snap of it popping the damn thing off with one fluent motion, moving it towards my lips for a sip as my I started thinking about where I was gonna sleep for the next few days, drinking enough to match the amount my glass had held.
I think for tonight, I was gonna drink the rest of my whiskey, find a tree to piss under, then a different one to sleep beneath.
Before I could find said trees, I picked up the smell of fresh blood break through every other stink that protruded from the bar, feeling any warmth from my body leave as my own froze from what I'd caught in the corner of my eye, then it just turned into fire as I walked towards the alley, finding a familiar face slumped against the wall with a bloodied lip and brushing along both arms and neck, that same girl I'd seen now had tears streaming down her face.
She didn't show any reaction to me approaching her, just looked up at me with a pleading expression that I wouldn't hurt her any more than she had been; weakly raising her hands up with the little strength she had left. She didn't raise them in her defense, she just started to sign with her hands. She was mute.
I felt angry tears sting my eyes as I crouched to get closer to her, watching as she recoiled some. But I didn't lay a finger on her.
Then something else caught my attention; Three drunk and about to be very sorry fucks walking down the alley, laughing a wickedly cruel laugh with smiles on their faces.
They'd beaten a girl that couldn't even call for help, and the fuckers walked on with god's damn smiles, laughing it off as a good time.
Seething rage rose in me, twisting up inside along with guilt that I'd ignored her, feeling responsible that I'd found her this way.
I didn't care about people. I didn't like to care about people and their problems, it just added on to mine. But I'd been drinking tonight. And unfortunately, I'd drank three classes worth, and when I did, that hard wall I put up between myself and the rest of the world came falling down, crumbling all around me as I took the first few steps after them.
I suddenly felt myself held in the same place, something not letting me move. When I looked back, I saw her, holding my hand so I wouldn't go as she looked at me with worry and fear.
I didn't know if she was just scared and didn't want to be left alone, or if she was honestly concerned I'd get myself killed, but I didn't care.
For a split second, looking at her I could see myself all those years ago, huddled pathetically as tears ran down my cheeks. I almost stayed by her side, to offer her aid and comforting words until helped arrived, but then I took a closer look at her.
She was even younger than what I'd first thought. She was 11 or 12. Just a little older than me.
Being that close to her let me see how much smaller she really was; Skinny and frail. She wouldn't have put up any kind of fight, especially against three grown men.
I gritted my teeth down until they bled, knowing I should just get her help. Knowing that I should move on and forget about it before it spiraled into something I couldn't control. But something wouldn't let me.
If I walked away from this, how long would it be before they did the same to another girl? Or to her again?
"Maybe next time they aren't so nice."
Maybe next time they kill her.
...If it wasn't me...
"Then it'd just be someone else walking away next time." Having stood and watched only to let it happen again. And so I did exactly what I wish someone had done for me when my father abandoned me so that the forest might take me away, to have my life stolen by some wicked beast. It hadn't then, and it wouldn't take hers.
I tore my hand from her grasp and moved in on them, flipping the bottle around as I quickly approached the slow drunks. I forgot entirely what drink was in it as I grabbed onto the shoulder of one of the larger men to the far right, yanking him back to his surprise right before everything went black and red.
I'd smashed the bottle right against his head, breaking it open with a noisy crash as he buckled under his own weight, falling onto the side of his face where shards of glass had been logged in, only pushing them in further. He didn't stir or howl in pain after hitting the pavement. I doubted he'd be walking it off so soon, if at all ever again, but there was no concern for him anywhere in my thoughts, or for what happened to any of them.
They hadn't realized what had happened yet. All the middle one had seen was his drinking buddy fall, only when he looked back to see why his friend had lagged that he saw what had happend, but I'd already thrown my right leg back, planting it across his face, a loud crack following suit as he fell to his knees, unsure of what had happened, numbed to any real pain. He'd feel it in a moment, I promised him that.
It was only the last one that took any real notice of what was going on and who had attacked them, letting out a loud cry as he recoiled back from the sight of seeing both of his accomplices on the ground.
I didn't allow him any more time then that single instance of fear as I swarmed him, ramming into him with my forearm.
It was an easy enough task to push him back into the wall of the bar, but slitting his throat with the broken half of the bottle, along with his eyes and face, was an even easier one.
For good measure, I discard the broken glass, jamming it into his chest before my thumbs went to his eye sockets, pressing them in hard enough that I felt blood and juice leak, taking a hold of his head and bashing it against the bricks until a wet paste had covered them, releasing him as he fell down the wall, leaving a trail of black blood.
If he survived this, or could even remember it, he wouldn't be able to identify me, distorting my mouth into a familiar sadistic smile, normally only reserved for the dark thoughts that my family occupied.
As I stalked towards the other one, I briefly considered pulling my blade from its scabbard, but when I touched it, I could hear my own screams, telling me, almost begging me, to stop. 'You've done enough.' I heard myself say.
'They didn't deserve this much.'
I hissed at those thoughts that said I should stop and took my hand away from my sword. Though it was meant only for the man I once called my father, it reminded me all too well of what I still was; I was still human, and the sword told me a story, that no matter what I did, there was a point in my life I was a scared child, begging and crying for a family that hadn't wanted it.
"The only difference is," I said as I approached the second man I'd attacked, the only one of them most likely to still be alive, grabbing onto his shirt as I pushed him over, stepping onto his chest as I looked him in the eyes, dazed and just as filled with fear as the girl that he had attacked had. "Is that no one came for me." No one heard my cries.
I raised my hand left hand, positioning his head so it was just right, and stuck the bridge of his nose with an open palm.
It disappeared with a sickening crunch as the bones shattered, and his breathing stopped all at once. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he dropped lifelessly.
I don't know if I'd ignored his pleading, or if I'd even heard it, but any last words he might have said had been lost on me. The only thing I knew for sure was that in his final moments, he hadn't looked at me like I was a child.
He'd looked at me like I was a monster.
I breathed hard and labored gasps as I stepped back, looking at the scene of horror before my eyes fell upon my own hands, seeing them red and bruised, the realization of what I'd done starting to dawn on me. I tried to push that away. I had too.
I tried to occupy myself as I turned back towards the girl they'd attacked, telling myself to see what they'd done to her to remind myself they'd deserved it, but looking at her and seeing it with thoughts not clouded by rage, her injures were almost nothing compared to what I'd inflicted.
Any fear she'd had after the attack was replaced by a deep horror of me and my actions, scrambling back some as I approached. Almost afraid I'd do the same thing again, only to her. A mad demon come to claim its next victim.
I couldn't find it in myself to say she was wrong to think that. I hadn't saved her, I'd only shown her a greater darkness.
I wanted to assure her that I wouldn't harm her, but there was no way I could word it to convince her otherwise.
A moment passed, and I felt a wave of pain flood my body, dragging me down as the effects of the alcohol wore off. I didn't just come down, I fucking crashed and burned. Like every drop in my system suddenly burned away all at once in my rage.
My hand was broken and mangled, having shattered who knew how many bones with that hit, but that was nothing compared to what my foot felt like.
I'd never really seriously broken anything. Not like this.
Thousands of needles seemed to pierce my hand and foot as I tried to get myself up. This was essentially a crime scene, and any law enforcement that happened by wouldn't be good for me. Maybe they wouldn't assume the 8 year old was the dastardly culprit of a possible triple assault/homicide, but they definitely wouldn't just let me leave, not with my injuries. And I wasn't stupid enough to raise the issue, I knew I wasn't in any condition for another round, so I would make no attempt to resist.
Lucky, any on lookers had fled right before the fighting had started, meaning they'd left the girl to be attacked, so it was just me and the mute girl.
I wanted to reach out for her to help me walk, but my vision gradually left me, until everything was a gray blurr.
"Don't black out..." I whispered roughly as I pulled myself together, forcing myself to move.
"Don't...Fucking..." I let out a defeated sigh as my body tensed up, and I fell harshly. No more fighting, and no burning anger to keep me moving.
The last thing I heard before everything went silent was the static ringing in my ears, and footsteps approaching that were muffled by it.
