Here's another chapter that I managed to finish in between school work. I hope you all enjoy it.
(Since I forgot this in the prologue) Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, they all belong to Himaruya.
/
The wind howled through the Rockies across the stone giants and endless foliage. A small paved road makes its way through the landscape, having been carved into the rock. Not many vehicles take this road downwards, but many take it upwards. On this particular day, the ground having been covered with a light layer of snow, a single vehicle makes such a rare occurrence.
A taxi, having been paid a hefty sum to even reach this area, traverses the winding trail until it pulls into a small village located on the trail. Stopping, the door opens and a small figure walks out into the snow. With a slight intake of breath he examines the new surroundings.
The town is a humble one, houses made of nothing but wood and other natural resources. There were no roads, only dirt paths which were really all that was needed for such a small location. Yet it left a peaceful air on those who passed through it, much fresher than that of the city air he had grown up in. Nonetheless, he knew he would never be able to settle in a location like this. There was a lack of adventure that he craved and was the reason he came to this place to begin with.
His name was Peter Kirkland, and he had spent the last three years searching for any whiff of his long-lost ancestor. He had struck gold in a city on the east coast, having been the location where the man had worked for years. However, they also had no insight as to where he had disappeared to just as many others hadn't either.
Ignoring the string of bad luck, he continued west. He stopped in numerous cities and sometimes he would get lucky, his ancestor having stopped there momentarily but having left documents that proved he lodged there. Through this occasion happening what he felt was thousands of times; he had come to this place, a town with no name and not on any map.
Saying farewell to the cab driver, he walked into the town. There were people in the streets and almost everyone he passed looked at him. It was clearly rare that they received visitors otherwise he wouldn't be being looked at like such a strange spectacle. What was important was that he needed to find a place where he could ask for information. It seemed like luck was on his side as he caught sight of a sign that read 'grocer'.
He had been expecting a grocery store, or a farmer's market-like setting but it was more like a department store. There were groceries, yes, but they were just one part while there were tools and other knick-knacks dispersed throughout the store. Never mind them; he wasn't here to buy anything. He made his way to the cashier; thankfully there was no one else in the store at the moment so he wasn't holding up a line or anything. The cashier simply looked at him with curiosity, but said nothing until he was directly in front of him.
"Can I help you with something kid?" Peter glared at the use of 'kid'. He was 17! It's not like height was something he could control. He stopped glaring quickly; having learned that bickering about his height of all things was the worst way to get information.
"Yes. I was wondering if you have any records of people who have passed through or lived here? I'm trying to track down an ancestor of mine." The man looked at him with a skeptical eye but his attention was soon taken by the sound of the door opening.
Peter also looked over and was surprised by the appearance of the man he saw. Now it wouldn't have been strange for a rugged man to have walked in, as he had noticed that what all men here looked like, probably due to being lumberjacks, but this man fit none of these characteristics. Light blonde hair and pale skin made Peter think back to some Scandinavians he had known in the past. This man also had a strange curl that seemed to float in midair, something that Peter did not entirely know how to comprehend but ignored.
The man nodded in their direction and went towards the tools section of the store. Peter watched him for a second but his attention was quickly taken back by the sound of the cashier's voice.
"So you wanted records? Any name in particular, I know most everyone who comes through here." Even as he said this, the man was already heading towards the backroom, probably to retrieve a records book.
"Yes sir, although I doubt you'd recognize the name. He's probably dead by now at his age." The man looked surprised but then gave a cocky grin. "Try me son."
"Arthur Kirkland." He heard something drop behind him and saw the blonde from before bending down to pick up a few tools, from what Peter could make out equipment a blacksmith may use. He would admit to being curious but he had other matters on his mind. When he turned around the cashier had already gone into the backroom, which meant Peter would be left waiting.
"Are you new in town?" A stoic yet soft voice came from behind him. He turned to see the blonde, having collected all the tools he dropped, standing next to him. He didn't seem like the social type, but maybe he was just trying to be friendly?
"Yeah. I just got here today, but I don't plan on staying." Peter answered quickly, for whatever reason he felt nervous under the gaze of this man.
"Passing through?"
"Yes, looking for information actually. I'm on an adventure to find out what happened to an ancestor of mine! I've come all the way from England and this is where I ended up. I think I might get my answer soon, well I hope." The older blonde looked down at him for a second, seemingly taking in the answer before deciding to ask something.
"Why do you want to meet Arthur Kirkland?" Peter was a bit taken aback by this question.
"Do you know him? He can't possibly be alive can he? If he is he'd be like REALLY old." The man gave a small smirk, muttering something to himself but then turning back to Peter.
"I am a friend of his, we share a common interest. Would you like to meet him?" Now Peter could actually feel his breath catch in his excitement. Arthur Kirkland was alive!? That made him over ninety years old! Yet this young man was claiming to be a good friend of his, what common interest could one share with such an elderly man?
"Of course I would! I didn't come all this way for nothing! Could you take me to him?" The man shook his head, Peter's enthusiasm quickly deflating to the point where it was almost an audible thing. "Why not?"
"I cannot take you, not today anyway. Tomorrow I will send someone to retrieve you. Go to the end of the town and you will find a large oak tree. He will be waiting for you there." The man pulled out a few bills and left them on the counter.
"But how will I-"
"Sorry for the wait, oh did Lukas leave already?" Peter looked over to where the man had been only seconds ago to find a vacant space. He turned back to the cashier who held a records book that he had already opened to a random date.
"You said his name was Lukas, could you tell me where he lives?" The cashier looked surprised but shrugged.
"I don't know. He doesn't live in this town, he's one of the group of people who live further up the mountain. No one here knows where their town is but they come down to ours all the time."
"There's another village? I didn't even think you could go further up the mountain, it's rather steep." Peter could recall this from his ride in the taxi only a brief while ago. The mountains were tall and steep, not something most people could easily climb, which had made him surprised that even this town was located here. To think there was a second further up the mountain had never occurred to him.
"They manage somehow. Although I must warn you that Lukas has a rather over-protective mate. I don't see many people successfully befriending him, heck I only ever talk to him on occasion." Peter processed this information in his head, stopping at one word that seemed strange to him.
"Mate?" The cashier was flipping through a few more pages as he nodded. "Yep, that's what they call one another. It's weird but it's what they do I suppose."
"Thank you for the information." Peter walked towards the door, ignoring the cries behind him about searching the records. When he had walked a short distance he looked up to the mountain before him. A treacherous place no doubt, but could Arthur possibly be here? If he is, then why?
Peter couldn't think of a good answer and walked around searching for a hotel or any place where he could lodge. He got lucky as he met a middle-aged woman who allowed him to room in her home as there was no hotel in the town as they rarely received visitors apart from the ordinary. He made sure to thank her kindly and offered to pay for her hospitality, but she said it was no bother.
Peter unpacked his light bag and briefly picked up an envelope that he kept in there. It was a letter that his family had given him when he decided to leave in search of Arthur and he had read it numerous times. It hurt every time but he kept reading it for whatever reason. It was a brief letter but it was the last line that always made him depressed and near tears.
"Don't come back."
/
Whoot done with that! So a brief note, I made Peter older than he normally is, 17 in this case, but he's still as short as he is normally. I did this mainly because you don't see many children roaming the American country on their own -u- So for now he's like Near from Death Note, a short and child-like individual who gets the most random growth spurt ever at some point. (The afterstory of Death Note has Near have a HUGE growth spurt :'D)
Well enough from me. Please review! /absconds
