The City by the Sea
Two
The City by the Sea. Such a cumbersome name. And rather egotistical as well, Levy thought as she passed the town borders and road through streets lined with flamboyantly painted houses and shops. The. The, as if this jeweled place were the only town with an ocean view.
Though it might be the only sea-side town to be a hunting ground for evil. Perhaps it could add that little fact to its over-long name.
"Here we are, miss. I need to get to port. Monster or no monster, still jobs to do. Fish don't swim themselves inland."
"Quite right." She offered him the brightest of her smiles. He had been a great help to her, and the information he gave her would make her better prepared for the interview with the mayor, who had likely deliberately dumbed down the threat of the job listed on the request form. "And thank you so much for the ride and the information. I promise you, I'll do all that I can."
"I believe you will, miss." He touched two fingers to the corner of his eye, and pulled away.
"Hello," an old woman said from the doorway of the large green building to Levy's left. "How may I help you?"
Levy managed not to jump at the voice. That was the second time today that she had been too distracted to hear what was going on around her. Now that she was alerted to the fact, she tried to focus on her surroundings and realized that the place was abnormally quiet in both sound and movement.
She swallowed. "I'm hoping to help you, ma'am." She held out a copy of the job request, "My name is Levy. I am a mage from the guild Fairy Tail."
"Ah," the woman held the door open for her, "you'll want to come in, then, and I'll explain our little situation."
Little situation.
Right.
Levy was led through a large open entryway and into a cozy office with large windows offering a beautiful view of the town and water. The old women gestured at one of the large arm chairs before taking her own seat behind the large, pale-wood desk. With the sun setting faster and faster, it hung, veiled, behind the woman's head, obscuring her features while highlighting her silhouette.
"I am, as you must have guessed, the mayor of The City by the Sea."
Levy waited for the woman, the mayor, to offer her name, but she said no more. Wanting to roll her eyes and snort, she thought it annoying, but fitting. For all she knew there was a tradition of towns without names to have mayors without names.
Or maybe this one was just eccentric. Who knew.
"Yes, Mayor, I had guessed that." She placed the job ticket on the desk, and slid it in the mayor's direction. "I would like to start by asking you a few questions."
"Of course," the mayor smiled, and Levy squared her shoulders in an attempt to convey more authority than her face and stature normally projected.
"First, I have been offered compelling eyewitness testimony that the disturbances in question were physical in nature. More like those of a monster than a ghost, as was stated on the request. This would naturally change the mission parameters significantly. Why was this information not given?"
"The creature has no body. What would you call it?"
"There are no small number of spectral creatures, incorporeal beings, which are not ghosts, that can cause damage to the living. Ghosts, as they are most commonly known, are left-behind spirits, most usually of people. Their business with the living world tends to be, if not benevolent, benign. They wish to watch over family and friends, to protect their homes or loved ones. They are defined and confined by the history and memory of their once-living selves. They don't travel far from their territory. They don't," she narrowed her eyes, "feed on the flesh of the living.
"I will have to hear more of this creature before I can put a name to it, but from what I've heard this far, I do believe I can banish it," she hoped, "but the tools I brought," she pointed to the bag at her side, "are not made for use against the entirety of the supernatural realm. I would ask that you be honest in future requests."
The mayor began to inhale, likely in protest of her words or tone, but Levy continued before the mayor could speak. "Second, I will need to take time to walk the town."
"Can you finish this tonight?" the mayor asked. The hint of down-turned lips captured Levy's attention, but her face was still, for the most part, hidden as the red sun set behind her.
"I'm going to try."
"Any more requests?" there was a touch of sarcasm there, and Levy cocked her head slightly to the left to catch the sound.
"I've not made any requests as of yet, but: Third, when the sun rises, if the monster remains at large, I will need to speak with every witness." She paused and the mayor tapped her finger on the desktop in impatience.
"Fourth? The sun is, as you must see, disappearing."
"Fourth, give me a break down of the numbers. How many females? Males? How many families?"
"Five boys, nine girls. None from the same family."
"Ages?"
"Youngest was six, oldest was 24."
"Who was the youngest?"
"Branbeck, boy."
Levy tapped her chin, "The eldest?"
"Kitty Ladyhearth, female."
"Tell me," Levy stared at a spot over the mayor's shoulder, "the five boys, were they the youngest?"
The older woman's eyes went wide with surprise, "Yes. Aged six to 11, Grandice only turned 11 three weeks ago."
"And the youngest of the girls?"
"Thirteen. Blue. Blue Thompson." There was pain visible now in the mayor's posture. Blue was someone she knew. Knew and liked. A relative, perhaps.
"Prepubescent males, post-pubescent females." She wasn't sure what it meant, but there was some significance there. "
"Any of them alone when they died?"
"No."
"And people only? You've had no abnormal animal deaths? No pets, no wild creatures found with similar wounds?"
A pause, hesitation. "This thing doesn't leave much in the way of an identifiable body. But … Kenta, he has goats. Cheesemaker. One morning he went to milk his nanny goats, and found half of his herd slaughtered."
"You think it might be caused by the same being?"
"I never thought … but we never found out who did it. Then this began to happen and we had bigger problems than a few dead goats."
She nodded, "Next question. Two weeks is a long time to watch people killed. Especially when these people are killed in public through terrifyingly abnormal means. Were any of those women mages? Guild mages?"
She watched the mayor's shoulders droop.
"Yes. The first mage answered five days in. We sent at three. She died after two nights here."
"In the fog?" Levy guessed.
"In the fog," the mayor agreed.
"And the second woman to die in the fog?"
"Yes. Six days later. Another mage."
"And how long was she in the City?"
Three days. Two dead on her watch, and then her own."
"She died this morning?"
"Yes."
Levy sat back and stared. She had signed the request two days ago. "You sent out multiple requests for the job. With different descriptions. You knew that what you had was not a ghost, but you had already called for a mage to tackle a creature not a ghost … you could not make another offer until…" She swallowed again. "You did not expect her to succeed."
"No."
"Then why let her try? Why not make your request clearer. Why not ask for stronger mages?"
"We cannot afford stronger mages."
"Ah. And you don't have to pay dead ones. You could get lucky and a cheap mage could solve your problem, but if they don't, you're not obligated to pay."
No answer. No movement.
"You could have ended this five days in, with your first mage, if the mage had the proper information. If the request had drawn a mage who could actually match your threat." Some part of her wanted to smile, hard smile, angry smile. She was so angry. Holding that feeling inside of her skin hurt. She grit her teeth and kept her mouth closed.
The mayor's shoulders drooped further. "We must make do with what we have."
"I hope that's enough to rest your conscience on," she told the old woman before standing. "Well, I have the night, and – weather willing – the morning will not be foggy."
The mayor nodded.
"Any possible hunting grounds?"
"There is no one place."
"The girls are spreading out? Hiding?"
"Yes."
"Mmm, makes it harder on me, and probably doesn't do a thing to disrupt it. Just leaves me with no witnesses." Levy waved a hand. "Map." The word grew in front of her, thin as parchment paper, glowing with the layout of The City by the Sea, roads like veins and buildings like tiny, square scales.
"Locate: Women under 30, boys under 12." Points of light appeared all over the word, and, as the mayor said, no two were together. She touched the glowing red point that represented her, and sighed.
"Well then," she turned the word so that the mayor could see it, "where has the creature not killed?"
"The pier," she answered without a second to consider. "This building. Most buildings. Most were taken in the streets."
Levy looked at the map. There were no women or boys on the pier. No little dots glowed in the streets. And there was only one dot in the mayor's residence. All of the dots were closeted, in groups of one, inside the little square scales that bordered the City's veins.
"Which is why they're all keeping to their houses now?"
"Correct."
Levy asked the question she'd been wanting to ask since talking to the man in the cart, "Why are the women even in the City? Why haven't they left?"
"There are over two hundred girls in the age bracket you mentioned. Where would they go? What would they do? They have lives here, families, jobs."
"Well. Seven of them don't. Neither do five of your boys."
"Twelve people out of hundreds," the mayor said. "I don't mean to sound callous, but even if they're afraid, most people don't believe it could happen to them. There are a few that left the City, but they had contacts, family outside. Most of us don't. We were born City, as were our parents and our parents' parents."
Levy walked to the door, and the mayor followed her. "Yes, I understand that, but this," she waved at the word, "helps no one. We already know that no one has died on their own, but there's no reason to suspect that won't change. Up until now I'd be willing to bet that people stayed with their daughters and sisters and wives in order to protect them..."
"Yes," the mayor cleared her throat and followed Levy into the street, "that's accurate. Now we're trying something different."
The word pulsed and her dot moved as she walked in the direction of the pier.
I'm a woman under 30. I'm a woman in The City by the Sea. I'm the preferred prey of the evil that hunts here.
Between them and the sea, a scream sent knives of alarm into the night. Before the echos died off, one of the tiny glowing dots disappeared.
Author's Note: And that's two. I hope that this is making sense to someone.
Thank you for reading, and please, if you would, take a moment and review.