The Silver Gauntlet: An Erran Copper Tale

The smell of spices wafted under the door with such intensity that it almost seemed to be visible, like heat over a cobble road in the distance. I knew not to let the sweet smells and happy humming coming from the kitchen deceive me, for it was not a meal one would want to consume, unless driven by some questionable desire. I tried focusing on something else, to dull the gnawing pain that drilled into my abdomen, for food was foreign to me in recent days; punishment for my incompetence.

Decidedly I took catalogue of my quarters for the hundredth time, as if the walls would suddenly burst away and I was to find myself somewhere pleasant. Dingy, faded wallpaper adorned the small room, with remnants of flowers and birds peeking out from under the soot and grime. An old, worn out excuse for a bed lay to one wall, and five paces away from it was an armoire, its mirror cracked near the top corner. It was a lovely piece of furniture, cover in carved snakes and lions. The floor had exactly seventeen panels, and the ceiling had three support beams. The manacles that hung from the wall in between these two, was where I currently hung by my wrists, the caked blood from my vain attempts at escape causing the skin around them to itch. This room must have belonged to a child whom had been larger than I, for the walls had scuffs at higher points than my wrists currently hung. Shame he was either dead, or had escaped. Then maybe I could enjoy the smells that once again assaulted my senses like a battering ram of temptation. I closed my eyes and attempted to sleep as a last resort of escape from this slow torture.

“Erran, Erran!” A voice snapped me from my slumber, instantly causing my head to smack the wall behind me.

“Oh dear, hit you head again? You really must not sleep while you’re up there.” The voice coddled, making motherly ticking sounds. I shook my head and looked about, my eyes now adjusting to the lighting as night had fallen. They fell upon a small figure, clad in what looked like a rather expensive long coat, its crimson red and dark oranges clashing, like fire was dancing along their body. They were sitting on my bed, looking up at me.

“It’s you again? I thought you were a dream.” I said, wincing as I shook off the pain that rung through my head. They laughed, and hopped up off of my bed, pacing the small section of floor that I had.

“Oh, goodness no, I am quite real.” They said turning around, for once letting me see their face again. I wish I hadn’t. It was a lovely face, that of a small woman. A petite nose, accented by full lips and a round chin, all dotted with freckles. The eyes however, were like those of a house fly, nestled into sockets meant for a human.

“You just have yet to accept this poppet, so it keeps making things hard’r for me.” It retorted, leaning against the door, smiling.

“But if you do that, it will make things a lot easier from here out.”
I stared for a moment, remembering the other times I had seen this thing. Near the village a few hills over, and the day I first came to this house. I decided this thing was a welcome distraction to the meal and smells that still permeated the room.

“Alright then; Creature. Let’s say you show up again, what am I to call you?” I asked, trying my best not to make eye contact. It clearly showed, for in an instant my chin was in their hand, their eyes darting over my face.

“First off, I am no ‘thing’. You shall treat me with respect, or I shall pluck those lovely eyes you have from your skull one by one, so you can watch first.”
They shook my chin away and stepped back, brushing off their coat as if somehow that single threat had made them dirty.

“My name is Cinder. & as for what I am, we’ll go over that when the time is right. But what you need to know is that I am what some people would call a figment.” They announced, and explained.

“So, you aren’t real?” I questioned, knowing already the answer.

“No you dolt, I am real. ‘Some’ people. I came from your mind, and now exist.” They said as if it made perfect sense. Suddenly they grew alarmed, lowering their voice and spoke in a rushed, panicked tone,
“I haven’t much time, but you need to know this. 2 children will show up here soon, a girl and boy. You need to help them, as they will in turn help you.”

I went to ask what they meant, when suddenly they were gone, and seconds later my door creaked open. The sight was more sickening than Cinder’s eyes.

Sera.

Years ago I was orphaned, or abandoned; I’ve yet to figure out which sounded better. My parents left me in the woods behind their village, most likely in hopes that a wild animal would find me and be the end of their transgression. But, instead Sera found me. & after sixteen years living with her, I sometimes wish for the animal my parents had hoped for. See, Sera is a witch. But don’t be fooled, she is not a haggard, old hag like story like you to believe, no. Sera’s one of the most beautiful women, if not the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She has long mahogany brown hair, which catches light, akin to the surface of a shimmering lake at night. High cheekbones that give her and almost elven look and green eyes brighter then emeralds. But no matter how beautiful she may be, the woman is vile and dangerous.
She smiled as she opened the door, gliding over the few steps it took to cross the room, and gently stroked my face as she undid my bindings. The touch made my skin grow cold.

“Now then, shall we have dinner?” She cooed, leaving me to regain myself.
I stared at the back of her head, and stood, steeling myself for her retaliation.

“No, I think I will be fine.” I replied, my voice unwavering. Sera stopped, and slowly turned around, her face devoid of any emotion.

“You will come eat Erran. You know as well as I that this meal is required for you to remain here and to remain in my employ. Or would you like me to cut off that hand of yours and leave you out in the woods for death like your mother did?” She snarled, a tiny smirk twitching at the side of her mouth.
She was right, as much as I hated to admit it. But, the meal she spoke of was an abomination. You see, Sera was a sort of witch for hire by certain, unsavory types throughout our kingdom & sometimes deliveries and the acquisition of things she needed or sold, was too far for her to venture. She sought to use me as her messenger, but with all the dangerous things out in the world, I couldn’t just waltz around. So she did the only thing she could. By performing a ritual using a trinket; a Silver plated gauntlet she said was her fathers, and this meal she made me eat, she managed to pass on a portion of her power unto me so I may travel more safely. Only thing was, the meal contained one horrible ingredient.

Kidnapped children from the local villages, which she made me acquire. I never seen their deaths, for I was always confined to my room as she cooked. But she did make me dispose of their clothes and sell any valuables to a fence in the town over the hill. I’d done this once every 6 months for the past 5 years, since I was eleven. The first time she had to tie me to the table and force feed me. I’ll never forget the initial process. As soon as the meal was finished, the gauntlet she had me adorn grew incredibly hot and fused itself to my hand. Somehow the magic is wielded caused the gauntlet to grow with me, a permanent part of my body. But no matter how powerful the magic is contained, I was unable to use any of it while inside her property. A precaution she placed to keep me from harming her or myself.

“At least let me clean this blood off my hands then?” I asked, gesturing to the dried blood upon my wrists.
She waved a hand absently, “Yes, clean up, and be swift. I have a job for you tonight.”

I nodded and she flicked a wrist, filling my washbasin with water before closing my door. Heaving a sigh, I turned to examine myself and wash my hands. My hair was getting too long, dangling just below my shoulders. The scar from a thief’s dagger stood prominent underneath my eye, a wound I garnered before the ripe age of 12. It was the first time I had to kill a man, yet the only time I had taken a wound. Sera’s magic was, wild, devious and dangerous. I could travel in the literal shadows, and conjure small arms if need be, and any blades that struck me, hit nothing for my body became smoke. Beyond that, I knew nothing of my strength, for that was all she had shown me to do my job. Sometimes I wondered if I was a messenger, or an assassin. At least a hundred men had fallen to my hands, and countless other creatures of the night.

“You’re quite the looker aren’t ya?” Cinder’s voice rang in my mind. I spun wildly, searching for the source.

“Come now poppet, I’m in yer head, can’t have the lady seeing me.” She giggled. I relaxed and began to scrub my wrists.

“What do you want now?” I asked, trying to keep my voice low. I felt her smirk, “I am here to help you. See, Sera thinks your power is all hers. But I know a bit more about you then her.”

I frowned, “What do you mean; this gauntlet grants me her power.” Which was true, I would be dead by now without it.

Cinder appeared in the mirror. “No, that is what she wants you to think. The girl that will show up here, she will help you understand this better. But you have to keep her alive.”

“When-“ I started, when a series of fast knocks cut my inquisition short, coming from the front door.
I quickly dried my hands and walked out into the kitchen, where Sera stood, a hand held up towards me as she called out “Who goes there?”

A small voice, that of a boy replied. “Please help us, we’re lost and my sister has hurt her leg.”

Sera’s eyes lit up as she threw open the door, revealing to children, no older then 12, standing there. A boy, with sandy brown hair and farmers clothing, and his sister, leaning against him, her blonde hair tied into a long braid, blood dripping down her leg.

“Oh goodness, come in. Sit her down right over there.” Sera directed, guiding the boy to a chair near the counter.

“Erran, get me some bandages, and a basin of hot water. You must be exhausted…forgive me but what is your name son?” She asked, rolling up her sleeves, preparing to tend to the girl.
The boy sat on the floor, pushing his hair back out of his face.

“I will be fine; I just need to sit down for a bit. My name is Hansel, and this is my older sister, Gretel.”
Cinder whispered in my head
“To answer your question, right now.”