Poison

Fraser leaned forward, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Shaking out his hand, he dodged the glances he was garnering in the seedy bar. It was just down the street from the one that he’d been found in, but he had to do this before he could continue this journey. He couldn’t drop everything until he returned. Justice couldn’t wait.

“Been a long time.”

Fraser grinned as he turned, taking the hand held out to him. “Much too long, if I have to say anything about it.”

The blond haired man grinned widely. “Well, you’ve been the one avoiding me, not the other way around, cowboy. Now, wanna spill whatever you called me to this hellhole for?” The man grimaced a smile when the owner shot him a look. “A very lovely hellhole, mind you,” he repaired. “Delicious, uh, looking food and beer.”

Rolling his eyes, Fraser tapped the seat next to him. “Join me, Murphy.”

Brown eyes crinkled as he smiled, nudging the seat back so he could fold his tall and thin body into the chair. “Watcha got for me?”

“This,” Fraser said, handing him a folded piece of paper.

“What is it?” Murphy asked.

“Read it, and you’ll find out.” Fraser stood up, tossing a few bills onto the counter. “I’ll trust you’ll make the right decision when it comes to revenge.” He patted Murphy on the shoulder. “I’ll be gone for…a few months at the most. I need you to hold down the fort. Kida is already in town, showing her teeth and flexing her muscles--,”

“Oh, Kida, what we do without you?”

“--so with you two here, I can trust this town to be in relatively good hands. A few other friends are here, and you might meet up with them via Kida, but stay low. Kida won’t do it, you know how she is.”

Murphy’s eyes became serious. “Who else, Fraser?”

Fraser’s eyes went cold. “No one.”


“This is our ship?”

“Yes.”

“This dinky thing?”

Fraser narrowed his eyes as he hefted his bag over his shoulder. “She might not look like much, but she’s handled the worse weather known across the oceans.”

Sol slid her head back, staring up at the weathered white sails that billowed in the wind. The dock she stood upon was creaky with age, where the salt swarmed up and feasted upon the flesh of the unprotected wood. The water was clear, revealing white sand that stretched out further than the eye could see. She knew, however, that only a hundred yards out there were shoals of incredible strong coral shoving up through the depths, producing not only a massive home for varying fish but also a dangerous crash-site for such a beaten boat. The paint had been eaten off, the sails were tinted, no longer the clean crisp white she imagined they once were. Few clouds covered the blue sky.

Sol couldn’t remember the last time she had seen a blue sky, let alone a sun that wasn’t tinted red from the billowing dust. The air in her lungs was clear, untainted by the dust that often came along with Zaire. This was Windor, the far edges of it. If one looked far enough, they could see where the two opposing ecosystems crashed and twisted, often a no-mans land of confusion. Somewhere in those deep woods, Sol knew the rebels hid. However, as of now, she must dismiss them, and focus on returning the orb to safety. She was a Protector now, that was her job, wasn’t it?

The ship itself was a beauty that didn’t age well, and the few repairs made the ship look even worse off then it actually was. The white waves tumbled against the boat, rocking it gently back and forth. Slightly intimidated by the sight of the rocking boat, and those endless miles that stretched out towards the open ocean, Sol hesitated.

“Coming, princess?”

She blinked at Fraser, who held out his hand. Her eyes stared at him, but he revealed nothing. Just an open palm, nothing more. She reached forward, allowing him to tug her upon the boat. Seven others would be accompanying them, and only four of them were actual Protectors. Others were driven away by the rebels unusual approach of gaining troupes for their war. The trip would take a month at sea, then who knew how long it would take to crash through Cyrene to discover the orb.

What if it wasn’t there?

Sol shut down those thoughts, hating herself for her doubt, for her weakness. It would have to be. Kida and the rest of them could hold down the fort. The rebels were still in the wind. Cyrene wasn’t safe from the rebels, but no where was anymore. No land was sacred, safe, it seemed. Only one place would probably forever be free from the rebels.

Or perhaps not. The island of Sabio could fall to the rebels, be torn apart. Nothing is sacred. Nothing will be protected. If the rebels can take it, they will. Not to destroy, but to infiltrated. To fuel the war.

Always the war.


“Let us out, you monsters!”

Fists slammed against metal bars.

“Let us out! This is not our war! This is not our war!” Rose shouted, grabbing the bars that withheld her from her freedom in clenched hands. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized her actions were futile. That didn’t temper her rage. “Let us go!”

Rose let her voice fade as nothing responded. She allowed her head to fall against the cool bars, and she felt the pounding in her forehead. The echoes of her own voice rang back at her, ringing in her ears like a mantra that mocked her.

Not our war! Not our war! Not our war!

“What fools we were, Oz,” she said to the quiet chamber. “What blind fools.”

She lifted her hand to touch the back of her head, where sticky clotting blood slicked up her hair. The spot where the woman had clocked her after lifting her hands in surrender for her son. For the only love of her life, who now slept on a cot behind her, curled against the wall. He hadn’t spoken a word, even when he woke up to the sound of her screaming. He’d just stared at her, sitting in his little cot as she screamed obscenities at the guards that would pass, at the old Gods, at the old Guardians, at the rebels, and the Protectors that were supposed to protect them.

Another man laid back in the corner, and he hadn’t stirred even after she screamed and screamed and screamed. In rage, fury, sadness. All these swirling emotions. Oz hadn’t come, and she could only fear the worse for the old man.

A hand startled her out of reverie. She shot away, slipping out from underneath the kind hand that settled on her shoulder. Her hands came out in front of her as she fell back, nearly tripping over herself in her struggle to free herself. Her head wound threw her off, forcing the ground to shift and fall beneath her.

Two hands caught her shoulders, and she opened her eyes. Two orange eyes flickered in the little light, silent lips moving in words she tried to read but couldn’t. A young face, a very young face aged by something similar to pain. He held up his hands, a show of peace.

She realized that this was the other prisoner that had been staying in his cot, and she tried to calm her immediate response to bolt away. She had learned to defend herself, and she could certainly protect herself against a young skinny teenaged boy who looked beaten and broken.

“Who are you?” she asked.

The boy held up his hands, shaking his head violently.

“Well, tell me,” she said, looking at him. “Who are you?”

He reached up to his throat, and mouthed two words. She could grasp those words in the flickering lamplight, couldn’t grasp the concept he was trying to give her. He held up a finger to signal her to wait while his unique orange eyes rolled upwards in thought. Reaching an inner decision, he leaned down on the ground, writing three letters in the dingy dirt. His eyes glanced back in a silent invitation to look. Rose leaned forward, turning so she could see the letters.

F-I-N.

“Fin?” she asked, and when he nodded, she repeated, “That is your name? Why couldn’t you just tell me yourself?”

It wasn‘t the silent boy that answered her, however, but a voice from the shadows beyond the realm of her cage:

“Because he wouldn’t tell us his secrets, so I had them cut out his tongue.”


Kida was pissed.

All she needed was some bloody food, a necessary item for life. One of the three fundamental items for life. Obviously, the people of these condemned city didn’t believe in water, food, and shelter. They believed more in guns, blood, and drugs. Well, to each their own, she supposed, but it shouldn’t be so hard to find some decent grub in a place brimming with people.

She eyed two children playing in the dirt, not nearly dressed enough for such a rough day in Zaire, not to mention the bones sticking out of their flesh. Large, rounded eyes peered at her, and uneasily she shifted her eyes away from them. Guilt niggled in her gut.

“Well, I have to find food first before I can even feed the homeless children, let alone myself,” she muttered to herself, keeping one of her hands in her pockets. “Hell.”

She shoved her hair over her shoulder, tugging her gloves up higher so her tattoo didn’t reveal itself to the world. That was the last thing she needed in such a rebel dominated city. Not to mention such a crowded city, she thought as she bumped into yet another person. She couldn’t breathe here without choking on someone else’s carbon dioxide. She couldn’t stand this--

What?

Glancing down at her arm, she noticed a long, thin slice. She’d barely felt the prick, and as she spun around, no one appeared out of the crowd. She couldn’t even remember the last person she’d bumped into, let alone be able to recognize them. Well, they hadn’t done very much damage, so she wouldn’t worry about it.


This town was perfect.

At least, to Jakob, that was the way it seemed. So many people, easy enough to blend in. Not to mention the hoards of rebels. His tattoo opened a lot of doors for a man like him, and information poured into him quickly. It was relatively easy to find out random information, but hard to discard what is the alcohol or drugs talking. It irritated him, hearing some of the shit that spewed from the frothing mouths of drunks. This so called noble men of the rebel army, here to protect the world from the harsh and cruel Protectors. What a crock of crap.

“Mister! Mister, stop, please!"

Jakob turned, slightly surprised to see a child running up to him before he recognized the kid. He’d hired him days ago, giving him and a few of his friends a little bit of money to keep their stubby fingers on the pulse of the city, in a way. Children heard and knew the strangest things, and Jakob was unashamed to use them for this purpose as long as it didn’t risk them. So far, nothing had warned him of their danger, but he kept his ears open for any warning. He wouldn’t be responsible for the death of a child.

“What is it?” Jakob asked, allowing the child to draw him away from the crowds to the edge of a alley. “What?”

The kid turned his huge eyes up towards Jakob. “Remember that girl you told me to follow?”

Kida. “Yes?”

“She’s--I don’t know, but she collapsed on one of the streets. Me and Trigo--” one of the other kids he’d hired “--found her, after seeing her cross through the streets. She won’t get up, and she’s feverish. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Jakob grasped the boys shoulders. “Show me where. Now.”


Rose’s face paled violently, and the realization of what he was trying to tell her: no tongue. Fin’s eyes fell to the side, and he moved away from where the two women could see them. The red-haired woman who stood leaning against the metal bars smiled coldly at Rose, and the air seemed to chill by considerable amounts. In the back, from the stones that made up their prison, water dripped slowly in the brief silence.

Ophela stepped forward into the flickering light. “But even though he tried to hide his secrets from us, it only worked so much. He can still write us anytime he wants to be freed from this prison, and we found a couple of nasty bottles of toxins on him, as well as a book with incredible details about the venomous species of this world.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Rose asked, standing up to block the view of her sleeping son. “What is the point?”

“What is the point?” Ophela asked, shrugging. Her eyes narrowed, and her smile coiled upon her lips. “Well, as of right now, one of those dangerous poisons should be killing one of the most important Protectors in the world. The poor girl won’t even know what hit her.

“But I will. The Little Death. The most painful poison in the world, right, Fin?” Fin glowered at her. “Well, you let me know when you’re willing to join the rebels. Until then, you can rot.” Ophela turned to Rose with another calculated smile. “Oh, and dear, don’t scream anymore or your son will pay the consequences.”

“Why did you capture us?” Rose demanded.

Ophela didn’t even blink. “You’re bait, nothing more. You’ll bring her.”

“Who?”

“You’re a mother, so you should know what it is like to love a child. I’m just trying to bring a child home, safe within my grasp. You can understand that, can’t you? Though I suppose I know by bringing her back I’ll be able to take out some of the most powerful Protectors, but that is only a sweet addition to her homecoming. For the last four months, I thought that the damn stone had stolen another love from me. It seems that it didn’t steal her, but gifted me with her.”

“Sol,” Rose whispered.

“Yes,” Ophela said with a smile. “Well, I’ve got things to do, so do behave my dears. We wouldn’t want anyone else to lose any major body parts.”

With those last words, Ophela turned and left.