Disclaimer: These are not my characters. They are the sole property of Squaresoft. I am merely borrowing them for the purpose of storytelling
Chapter 3
"Her Feet"
The sunset was a purple-silver monstrosity. With feet like broken glass, the girls eyed it. Didn't quite believe it. Wasn't what they had expected. The tall narrow buildings shaped the horizon a jagged edge. A puzzle-piece nightmare. These dark silhouettes stood stoically against the garish twilight, promised them that Zozo was near. Relm hadn't seem these walls for years, and even when she had, she didn't recall them being quite so lonely. The mountains blended with the rooftops, a harsh jagged margin.
Aisha had agreed to come to the town of Zozo with Relm but now nearly there, she was reconsidering. What is this place? Why is the sight of it making her blood run cold? Like ice shards in a knee-deep bucket. She eyed Relm, her now deep-blue bangs plastered to her forehead. Moisture-soaked. Travel-worn. The exhausted girl, her butterfly girl, looked up. Caught her gaze. "We're not going back. No way." She grinned, deeply. Stroking her aching vermillion shoulder. "Nothing to worry about. It's not like they say it is."
"You're always so sure." Aisha stopped for a moment to re-tie her shoelace. Deep mauve rider boots, knee-high. The laces leaked cold tears as she pulled them through her fingers. "But I can see in your eyes that it's not what you believe."
"Fiddlesticks. Fiddleheads. Fiddletops." Relm bantered. Rolled her eyes. "Listen, Aisha. I'm not about to go back. Live for the moment, babe! Let it all go."
"Yeah." She absently brushed her damp white sleeve, readjusted her straps, and gazed apprehensively at the horizon. It was turning deeper purple. Like cough syrup. The clouds growing thicker. More menacing. "I guess it's this or going home to have Mother chew me out for something or other."
"Exactly." Aisha notices her boots are being sucked into the deep reddish-brown soil. Pores of water forming, spilling around the thick leather.
"Well, let's keep moving then. I want to get out of the rain." She pulled a boot free. The noise is suction. Sloorpe-stuhch. The sound of angry soil. "Are you sure you know a decent place to stay?"
"Positively!"
"Great. Lead the way."
Rain. The rain hit violently into windows, breaking its stride, falling lifeless to the dirty streets below. There they formed deep grey pools, that dictated the flow of pedestrian traffic, which was of course, minimal. Pools formed into rivers and the streets were indeed covered in them. It always rained in Zozo, no question. The dark clouds never lifted; a permanent helmet of gloom. The rain was cold, dark, painfully welcoming. The rain was ever present.
"Does it always rain here?"
"Looks that way."
The two figures appeared in front of an inn window. Inside, the reception lady could see them through the pouring water and the frosted glass. She was fingering through a catalogue from a recent exhibit at the Jidoor House gallery. Her son, the dark sheep of the family, had left it here some time ago, and she eyed it cautiously. Is this what those wasters are doing with their time these days? She snickered at the bourgeois idea of entertainment, and took a big bite out of her raisin bun. Crumbs fell onto the pages. When the girls approached, she could tell they were trouble. All colours and fancy trinkets. None of that for her. The two of them proved simply garish to her. As the bell in the door rang, she looked up, wiped her mouth free of crumbs, and put on her best fake smile.
"What you girlies want?" She drummed her fingers on the counter.
"A place to stay, Marge. Ain't that what this joint is for?" Relm looked testingly, mockingly, into the lady's eyes. A pompous old goat she was. A real troll.
"We haven't got any rooms left." Damn kids. She'd be a goat's ass if they were staying here tonight. She picked her teeth with her free hand and grinned. Aisha recoiled in disgust, but tried not to let it show on her face. Looked at Relm, questioningly. She picked up her pack and turned to leave.
"Then why are you just sitting here, then? Ain't got anything better to do?" Relm could feel the buzzing of her anger. She sloshed her dripping feet around on the floor.
"I'm telling you, Missus . . ."
"Let's just go, Relm." Aisha grabbed her soaked arm.
"No way." Relm planted her feet firmly. "We're not going anywhere until this witch levels with me." She leaned forward, planting two tiny ringed hands on the counter and looked the woman straight in the eyes. "'Cause you're a nice little jewel, aren't you, Sugar?"
"No room here. Get outta here!" Relm could smell the tobacco and contempt on her breath. A flood of calm rushed over her. Looked into the woman's eyes and grinned, devilishly. The lady could see a warm red power engulf the frail, wiry girl. She held her breath. Feared the young woman's rage. Had a feeling like awaiting a typhoon.
"Yeah, let's go, Aisha. This place is a dump anyway." The lady only stared, stupefied. Relm chuckled. Aisha secured her things and pushed through the door, shielding her head from the rain. Relm stood back, brushed her coat off. Pulled her linen around herself and rang it in her hands. Pools of water hit the wood panel floor. Tha lady stared, gritting her teeth. She glared.
"You should leave, Ma'am." Cautiously eyeing the girl.
"My pleasure." Relm pulled back one of her muddy combat boots and levelled the waste basket. Sending it across the room, papers everywhere. "Have a nice day, Hon!" She turned and stormed out of the porch, hair blowing in the wind outside. In her chair, the woman fumed. Insulant brats. Parents did some job on her. Really! Obviously from Jidoor. What a mouth on her!
She turned back to her catalogue.
"Don't know what the world is coming to, I don't." She continued eating her bun.
Outside the girls were pressing on through the rain and puddles of muck. "Don't ever do that again, okay? I can't take the locals here." Aisha flew her hands into the air in Relm's general direction. "You had no idea what she might have done. She probably keeps a knife under the counter."
"Yeah, her or her half-brother, Otis." Relm chuckled. Aisha couldn't help but laugh too.
"What sort of place have you dragged me, anyway? This whole town isn't fit for human life."
"No, probably not. But it sure is one wild ride!" Relm stopped walked. Gestured to the tall brick building before them. A sign hung, flailing in the breeze. Cursive letters. The Ships Inn. "Here's where we'll stay for the night! Not bad, eh?"
"No . . ." Aisha glanced inside the ground window. Thick glass gave a hint at a warm yellow light. Smoky figures moving around tables. Noise emitted through the solid oak door. A violin, no, a mandolin. The place seemed to be buzzing with life. "It looks a lot better than I expected it to."
"Then let's go. Hustle, girl!"
They quickly picked up their tired feet and walked inside, the door creaking from many happy openings.