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Chapter 28: Scars

And then I opened my eyes. I was alive. I took a breath to be sure. I touched my neck, and there was no wound, just a scar. I looked at my other hand, it was still materializing. I turned to smoke again? I asked myself.

"So she's an immortal?" Capricorn asked Basta without taking his eyes off me.

"Yes sir. To be honest, I wasn't sure that she was until now." Basta answered.

"Cockerell." He said, still staring me.

"Yes, sir?" He said coming up next to me.

"Find this intriguing, young woman a room. And have Mortola find her another change of clothes." He commanded. I would have objected to this but I was still in shock so it just glazed right over me.

"This way, miss." Cockerell said as he motioned to the door that lead to the plaza. He had a limp in his right leg and a gruff face like Basta's except his features seemed too small for his face. Once outside, he led me to the large house right next door. He led me to the back of the house, past a small vegetable garden, and through the back door. Once inside he led me up a flight of stairs to the second story and down the hall to the third door on the left.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to put up with a roommate." He grumbled as he opened to door. He waved me through and closed the door behind me. The room was small. There was a bunk bed, a small wooden table with two wooden chairs, and a small window that looked out at the garden in the back. I walked up to the window. There were some women in the garden shooing way crows from the produce. They wore black skirts and white blouses, very simple ones at that.

"And who might you be?" A male voice asked. It was kind, not hard and rough like the rest of the men's voices. I turned around to see a man sitting on the bottom bunk. He was average height, had sandy, reddish, blond hair, and had stubble of the same color. He also had three pale scars on his left cheek. It looked as though his face had been sown back together. He did not wear black like the others. He wore a brown T-shirt, a red jacket, and tan pants. Who is he? He also had a ragged bag on the floor next to him.

"Elizabeth. And who are you?" I asked as I sat down in one of the wooden chairs.

" Dustfinger. I don't mean to pry, but why are you here? I mean, in this room?" He asked.

"I think that I'm supposed to occupy the top bunk." I said.

"Oh. Oh!" He realized.

"I've got one more question." He said.

"Shoot."

"Why are you in this village?" He asked.

"Because I choose the lesser of two evils." I told him.

"Then they didn't fully describe this village. I can't imagine anything worse than living here." He said as he laid back.

"Trust me, there are." I said remembering my choice.

"Then you haven't been here long." He snorted.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"That's a little personal." He said.

"That's fine." I said. We sat in silence for a few minutes and I reflected on yesterday. Lizzy, Eric, Jerry, the waitress, little Alex, Mom, Dad, what happened to them? Is he truly a man of his word? Are they dead? What other choice did I have? What the hell is going on? Where am I? I thought to myself.

"How old are you?" Dustfinger asked.

"What?" I asked, as he pulled me from my thoughts.

"I said, how old are you?" He repeated.

"You won't believe me." I simply said, staring out the window.

"I'll believe almost anything now a day." He said staring at the top bunk.

"Thirteen." I said.

"Nah, there's no way you're thirty." He said looking at me and examining my face.

"No, thirteen, one ,three." I said, staring back at him.

"You look like you're at least thirty." I said turning back to the window.

"Woh. You must have hit puberty really early." He said in amazement ignoring my statement.

"No, this is recent." I said as I began to braid my hair. I used to have hair as long as this when I was younger, back then I always kept it back in a braid.

"And how recent is that scar?" He asked as he got up.

He came over, examined it and asked," How deep was this?"

"Deep enough." I said. When he touched it, the memory of the pain came rushing back.

"You must have almost died." He said as he pulled back, seeing the pain on my face.

"I thought that I was going to." I answered. I wasn't lying though; I did think that I was going to die. Actually, I did.

"Who gave it to you?" he asked, looking very perplexed.

"Who gave you yours?" I countered.

"You wouldn't know him, yet." He said, looking at down at the ground.

"I'll believe anything now a day." I replied, throwing his words back at him.

"His name is Basta." He answered.

"Then we have something in common." I said. His head snapped up at my remark.

"What?!" He asked in disbelief.

"What the hell did you do to get on his bad side, kid?" He asked as his bag rustled and the door flew open, in the doorway stood Basta and a short woman. She wasn't fat, but very robust around the middle. She had graying black hair, and beady eyes much like a bird's. Unlike the women in the garden, she wore a white skirt and black top. She must be the head of the maids and cooking staff here. I thought. Basta was carrying a plate of spaghetti with vodka sauce and the woman was carrying a pile of clothes. I looked back at Dustfinger's bag and saw a rodent's nose sticking out. The woman followed my line of sight and saw it.

"Dustfinger, get you and your stinking rodent out." She commanded. Definitely the head of the maids and cooking staff. I thought. He shoved the nose back into the bag, picked it up and walked out, but not without a glare at Basta. Basta returned the glare and put the plate on the table along with a spoon and fork. Basta then followed Dustfinger's example, and left, leaving me with the old woman.

She laid a pile of dresses on the lower bunk. She sorted them into two piles. Some looked to be the size for a twelve year old girl, not the body I have now. They were placed in one pile while the ones that looked as though they might fit were placed in the other. After fifteen minutes of silence the 'fit' pile was limited to five dresses. The first she had me try on was a satin, floor length, dark teal, one shouldered dress with a sweetheart neckline. It was a bit tight around the ribcage and was sent to the discard pile. The second was another floor length dress. This one was black with a sweetheart neckline, a bodice with silver embroidery and was strapless. This one fit fairly well and stayed in the keep pile.

The third was one shouldered, like the first, and also had the sweetheart neckline. This dress was half red and half black; it was divided at the point of the sweetheart neckline. It also had a split on the right leg. This one fit like a glove, and was not discarded. The forth was an aqua blue. It was one shouldered like the others, but had a flat neckline, it also had a split, but on the left leg. She just looked at the fifth and discarded it. She looked at the three that were left and laid out the black and red one after careful consideration.

"Wear that one to dinner tonight." She said as she picked up the discard pile and left.


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