Chapter 5 A Shadow
The sun was slowly being swallowed by the sea. From citrus orange to a deep red to an indigo darkness, the sun slept, getting ready for another day. Daffid heard a sigh beside him.
Madeline was lounging on the stone railing that served as a protection to whoever might accidentally fall down the sea. "Isn't it beautiful?"
"Yes," Daffid answered absently. He couldn't take his thoughts away from the dream. It wasn't the first time that he had encountered that dream. Back to when he was still in Payon, that same dream had greeted him every night. He counted the days that had passed when he didn't have that certain dream.
One week. After arriving in Prontera, the dream had stopped. He wondered what triggered it off.
"A zenny for your thoughts?"
"They're not even worth that much," he said with a crooked smile.
Madeline offered a dazzling smile in return. She moved her gaze back to the sky. A curtain of stars now lit the heavens. "Humor me."
Daffid's thoughts moved back to the time when he was a thief and before that. Technically, he was still one, but he wanted to completely severe himself from his past. He summed up his courage to talk, with a steady voice Daffid told his story…
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A boy silently walked the moonlit corridors of the orphanage behind Prontera Sanctuary. Taking care not to accidentally nudge the bits and pieces of furniture scattered around the corridor, he walked to the way of the dirty kitchen.
He went for the storage room. There, he grabbed food and three canteens. He saw a large and empty rucksack lying in one corner. There, he put his collection of supplies and a bulky metal shield. He carefully closed the door to the storage room. He faced the dirty kitchen and walked towards an old wooden door.
The door leading outside stood in front of the boy. Holding his breath, he brought down the latch and slowly opened it. A creak coming from the hinges of the door resounded inside the small, orderly kitchen. He tensed. Seconds passed without anything happening. He opened the door fully and closed it after going outside.
The boy felt so elated. He ran, ran with such lightness and happiness, up the steps and beyond the city walls. Outside, he waited for the sunrise before he would continue his journey.
Sunrise came. The boy, glowing with excitement for the adventure of a lifetime, stood up. Adjusting the straps of the heavy rucksack, he took the first step towards his freedom. He felt so happy that he ran. When he arrived at the traveler's road, he walked. He stopped only to rest or to sleep at the rough and battered road.
A caravan being drawn by four peco pecos passed him by. It stopped some yards from him. A middle-aged man with blonde hair poked his head out.
"Oy! Where 'ya headed, lad?"
"I… I…" The boy rattled his brain for a destination. He muttered the first town that came to his mind. "I'm heading for Payon, Sir."
"Eh? Well I'll be damned. Might as well join me, lad. This here road is no place for a youngin' like 'ya. And dun 'ya worry 'bout a thing. I'll take 'ya there all in one piece!"
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Borges, the middle-aged man with blonde hair, poured water over the campfire. The fire flickered, and then died. He stared to the heavens; a full moon lent a luminous glow to the night. He made his way to the caravan parked some yards away from the traveler's road.
He raised a foot on a pedestal. Before he could lever himself up, a shadow appeared on the white covering of his caravan. He looked behind him.
His heart somersaulted when he saw a caped entity standing a few feet away from him. He blinked.
The entity disappeared.
He looked around. He saw the entity again. It was standing amongst the dense trees.
"Oy! Anyone there?"
The figure slowly blended to the darkness.
Strange.
Borges climbed up and into the caravan. He settled his portly body comfortably in the confined space. His eyes went to the sleeping form of the young boy. The boy's reddish-brown hair reached to his chin, obviously uncut for some months. He was curled in a fetal position, with both his arms hugging the large rucksack.
Borges noticed the boy shiver. He took a spare blanket from a chest placed in one corner of the caravan. Spreading the blanket out, he covered the skinny form, covering the entire length of the boy's body.
"Uh…"
Borges tensed. He heard another moan, deeper…darker. Beads of perspiration popped out of the boys face and neck. Alarmed, Borges shook the boy with his hands on the boy's shoulders.
"Uh…"
. The hair on Borges' skin stood up.
"Lad! Lad! Wake up, lad!"
The boy bolted upright with a gasp. With fear clearly shown in his emerald eyes, he muttered incoherently, "I-It's co… coming! It's a-a… after me! I-It's going to k-k-kill me!"
"What is, lad? What's after 'ya?"
"The… the one in a black cape!"
A stab of fear entered Borges heart.
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"This is where I'd be leavin' 'ya, lad. If I was 'ya I'd better find me self a job. I'd be guessin' ya' dun have 'nuf money to keep them fabres alive."
The boy hopped off the caravan parked at the entrance of the town of Payon.
"Here," Borges said while he grabbed the large rucksack behind him. "Do take care of you' self lad. 'Specially down in Archer's Village. Them adventurers cou'd become really rowdy. Might be too much for young lads like 'ya. Best to stay in Payon."
"Thank you, Sir," the boy smiled, took the rucksack and nestled it on his back.
"O'right. Me's be leadin' to Alberta now. The best of luck to 'ya, lad!"
May Odin protect you, lad. Borges sighed.
And with that, Borges brought his whip out and lashed it on the stationary peco pecos.