Poison

“Stay here, and out of trouble. I'm going to talk to Darren, but there are no promises. We might have to walk,” Jazz said, running his fingers across his scalp. “Seriously, you guys, stay out of trouble, okay?”

Sol yawned, nodding sleepily. “Just go, Jazz, we're not going anywhere.”

Raven gave Jazz a blank stare. “No promises.”

Jazz smiled, sending her a wink. “Baby, I love the way you play.”

“Jesus, just get the bikes, will you?”

“So appreciative,” he said, allowing his intensity to drain a bit as he opened the door and went inside.

Both woman fell silent, Sol holding her head in her hands. The sun settled in the midday sky, looming over them. It'd only taken an hour to get to the town, and only now did the sun start to settle more towards the west. The heat and dust settled upon them, a stale feeling that clung to their skin. Neither bothered to try and rid themselves of the sweat that gathered at their temples, opting rather to shove their hair out of their face. Sol shed her jacket, folding it over her knee and pulling her hair into a knot.

Raven would must rather swear.

“Goddamnit, it is hot,” she said, leaning her cheek on the palm of her hand. “Is this what hell feels like? Damn.”

“You've lived here all of your life,” Sol said, spreading her legs out before her. She stretched a bit before leaning on her knees. “I'm surprised you still bother to complain.”

“I haven't live here all of my life. I was born in Cyrene, and raised there until I turned sixteen. Then my family was killed when I was in town, a gas leak and a lit flame. There were no traces of them...at least, until the flames died down.”

Sol stared at Raven, her eyes wide before they shifted downwards. “I'm so sorry.”

“Hey,” Raven said, kicking up a cloud of dirt, “it was years ago.”

Letting her eyes drift up, Sol thought of her own family, the one she couldn't remember. “I don't know if I have a family...no, that's a lie.” She gritted her teeth. “I know I have family. I just can't remember them.”

“Any of them?”

Kind brown eyes flashed before her, a man with a wide smile. His hair fell over her forehead, the ends bleached by the sun. He seemed to settle into his thirties with ease, this slowness that didn't resemble laziness in the slightest.

“Sol, dear, why do you want to hear that silly story again?”

“Dad, I love it.”

“Fine, fine..,” he said as he rubbed his chin. His fingers came up and chucked her under the chin. “Once there was a time of darkness...a time so dark. These were the Dark Days, before the Heart Gem was created, before any of the Protectors existed. This was when souls didn't exist and evil ruled over the land.”

“Sol?”

Sol glanced up at Raven. “Oh, sorry.”

Raven's eyebrows came down over her eyes, those blue and gray orbs piercing Sol's green ones. “What happened?”

“I just...thought I remembered something,” she said offhandedly, waving away her thoughts. “Just never mind.”


Fin Owen knew a great many things about poisons. From the snakes and spiders of Zaire, all the way to the hellish beasts that roamed the other nations across the world. He didn't know them all, wouldn't claim that, for he was a humble soul...but he did know his toxins. Knew how to paralyze someone for a brief amount of time of five minutes or for the rest of their lives. He knew how to torture someone from the inside out, with flesh-eating venom, and he knew how to kill someone within a second. His father had toyed with poisons has a young lad, and passed on his learnings to his one and only child: Fin. His father had died a noble death, from the bite of the most poisonous spider in the world, the arachnid paulo mortem, or, as known by the people of Zaire, the Little Death.

However, what his father neglected to take interest in were the cures that could save lives. The cure that could've saved his own life if maybe he'd invested more than just an obsession into the beasts that ended up killing him.

It was because of these cures that Fin was now on the run from the rebels. They wanted to take control of the cures and the poisons, use them against the very much mortal Protectors. Fin refused them again and again, not allowing them to use his research to kill people. He knew it would spread wide, this use of poisons. He wouldn't allow it. Fin was only sixteen but he's seen the deadliest spider in the world's venom eat away at his father from the inside, consuming all of his flesh until it rotted away. His father lived until the toxin reached his brain, eating away at the flesh of his mind. He'd died two weeks after being bitten, two horrible weeks later.

So Fin would protect the people of this world against war and misuse.

His short blond hair stood up in a bit of an odd fashion, his unique orange eyes a bit difficult to conceal from the world. He walked down the street, pulling his left leg behind him. The last rebel he ran into managed to cut his thigh, and now it was another painfully obvious attribute that the rebels would use to find him. The man died nearly instantly when Fin had lashed back with a knife laced with the toxins of the Yellow-Spotted Snake that dwelled often in the wells of Zaire's cities.

Fin hated killing.

He looked up, and noticed two women sitting on the porch of the bike shop. He ignored them as he slowly came to the stairs. He swung his leg up on it, wincing as the blood seeped through the make-shift bandage that needed a desperate change. He went to lift his injured leg, swinging it up the next step, but the heavy pressure of the bandage made his leg numb, causing his foot to slid off. He slipped, his body making a thump upon the wood of the stairs, his chin catching the last step and slicing it open.

Several hands grasped his arms, pulling him up. He rolled his to the side, blood dripping from his chin to look up at two green eyes. He turned his head and saw two gray and blue eyes. Long tumbling red hair and short black hair. The two women.

“Hey, are you okay?” the red haired woman asked.

“Does he look okay, Sol?” the other woman demanded, as they both helped him up off the steps. The second woman eyed him up and down, lifting an eyebrow at the blood on his chin and the blood seeping through his pants. “Boy, what did you get yourself into?”


“There's a good chance I won't see these bikes ever again, isn't there?”

“Do you want me to lie to you?” Jazz asked, leaning his well-muscled frame on the beaten up desk. “I'm sorry, Darren.”

“No, I'm sorry, Jazz. Sorry to see those bikes go...but I owe you one. It's not a big deal, just try to bring them back. I can't ask much more.” Darren crossed his arms, his friendly black eyes watching out the window where the two women sat, with a man who was crouched next to them. “I have to warn you about something, Jazz, before you leave.”

Jazz glanced up at his dark friend, who stood at an obscene height. “What is it?”

“Watch out for blades.”

“I usually try to do that.”

“No, Jazz, I mean it. There is someone out there, around, who dips their blades into the deadly toxins of the poisonous and venomous beasts of the world. He can kill you or paralyze you, depending on his choice. Just, be careful, will you?”

Jazz's lips folded over each other. “Well, shit. I'll try. Who does that?”

“You're asking me. They're starting to call him the Little Death.”

“Who calls him that?”

“The rebels.”

“I'll keep my eyes out. Thanks again, Darren,” Jazz said, slapping his arm as he took the codes and heavy shawls from his friend. “Until we meet again.”

Darren shook his hand, slapping his shoulder. “Until we meet again.”