The Search - Part 2

[depes7448]

There it stands, ominous, looming over the rest of the world like a tyrannical king. I walk across the blood-red meadows toward my destination, stepping past mutilated bodies strewn about everywhere. Their dreadful, rotten scent purges my memories of what blooming flowers used to smell like. Even the sky turns a rose red color, and the brown clouds gather above me, showering everyone's blood over the land. Soon, my hair drapes over my scarred face, sticking to my eyes. I grunt in anger, pushing the tainted hair away, and watch as a single drop, sparkling like ruby, falls upon my arm. It leaves behind a slimy trail as the liquid orb travels down to my wrist, where I wear a bracelet holding a small vial. The blood seeps in through the tiny cork I had sealed the bottle with, my eyes widening in fury as the vile fluid stains the last strands of goldenrod hair.

Day 90 of Year 7133 from Awakening

The Coros can be a pain to take care of, mainly because they are so picky. It took me three days to reach Bastain Lake: Ruckus' favorite one. However, we only spent a single day relaxing by the shore before that little bird came. Then we trekked for another trio of days to reach my home again. The uneventful journey back proved to be a subtle foreshadowing.

Everything seemed normal. Brea the village Watchwomen nodded toward me and Ruckus with a smile, all the while sharpening her steel cutlass. As we walked backed to my house, Little Robbie came barreling into me again by accident in his rush to deliver letters. Ferra was hanging her clothes out to dry as usual, barely glancing up when I said "hello." Old Yorick watched with squinted eyes from his rocking chair that rested on a large porch. Behind him in his house, Susan cooked some omelets-Yorick's favorite-and the delicious scent traveled with the smoke coming out of the chimney. It made Ruckus' mouth water, so I pulled out a strip of jerky for him to nibble on.

I gasped when we finally made it home. Past the crowd of people murmuring around my house, the windows were completely shattered aside from one that only had a hole in it, and the front door lay in two pieces on the ground half a meter from the doorframe. Ruckus snorted in confusion, catching the attention of the crowd. Everyone turned to see me, falling silent as pitiful expressions took over their faces. They spread apart to let me through, so I sprinted forth only to be stopped by Sheila.

"Jacob! You canâEUTMt go in!" she pleaded, struggling to hold me back by an arm.

"Why the hell not! ThatâEUTMs my house! My house!" I roared at her. With a forceful push, I knocked Sheila onto the ground, but Ruckus galloped his way in front of me, wielding his horn in a threatening posture. The Coros were known to have excellent smell, making me hesitate to push Ruckus away as well. He gave me a look in which his pupils narrowed and he half-neighed, half-snorted, telling me that it would be unwise to enter my ransacked home.

"WhatâEUTMs going on!" I shouted at everybody behind me. Their cold silence only infuriated me further as my fists shook with anger. Sheila slowly stood up, patting her hand-stitched dress.

"Eral said that someone threw some potion through one of the windows. Next thing we know, there's an explosion. Terk sampled the air around your house and confirmed it was toxic. We were waiting for a group of Experts from the main town to cleanse the air when you came back."

Solemnly, Sheila placed a hand on my shoulder, but I was too blind in rage to feel it. I almost walked toward the doorway again when Ruckus rubbed his horn against my neck. Taking a deep breath, I forced my anger down, taking another glance at my home. When I looked closely, I noticed a faint green tint hanging around the entire structure like an aura, and a subtle smell of chocolate entered my nose. Sheila tried to comfort me by rubbing my back, looking at me with worry that I might charge off again.

Suddenly, the ragged hems of her dress rustled as a strong gale blew past from behind. Three men dressed in long, white robes strode in from the crowd, waving their enhanced fans at the house. Holding these shiny, silver fans were crinkly old hands that contrasted the golden scroll work decorating their silk robes. For protection, the robes covered the Experts' faces save for two eye slits. The top of the robes rose into a pointed peak, indicating their specialty in the poisons field.

For five whole minutes, we watched the Experts blow the toxic fumes back inside the building before they entered as well. My muscles tensed in anticipation while sweat cascaded down my face. As I fretted, Sheila stood next to me, rubbing my back gently, and Ruckus stood at my other side, whipping his tail around in boredom. We heard a loud chant from inside that echoed through the open air. Afterward, a gust of wind escaped through the window frames and doorway, whooshing away as fast as Little Robbie could run.

"Now you can go in," Sheila sighed, and I started to relax. We waited for the Experts to come outside and say, "Everything is alright; we fixed everything so that it looks like nothing had happened," a statement rarely heard nowadays ever since they demanded irrational payment for complete reconstruction. Then my nose tingled. When Sheila"s deep earthen aroma registered in my nostrils, I smacked my forehead with my palm.

"Ah! I forgot to buy you a soap bar again!" People near us looked at me in disbelief as if I had forgotten about my outburst. For a moment, I felt like I was going insane, too. Sheila giggled, lightly pinching my arm.

"Don't worry. I still have a couple buckets of water I can recycle. I can clean up well enough."

"But you've gone without a decent bath for-" I started to say when the Experts returned. They filed into a row before me, their silent gait and flapping robes giving the illusion that they glided across the grass.

"The potion was mixed by an amateur. There is no doubt that a rowdy child did this," the tallest Expert explained. I raised my eyebrows in disbelief that some kid threw a bomb he concocted into a random house-that plus none of the children in our village was a trouble-maker. Before I could ask if the bomb had damaged anything, the three elderly men strode past me back to their temple. A frown took over me while my eyes surveyed the ground around my house. Aside from the Experts' footprints, the ground remained uniform, so either the criminal bought an expensive, strong bottle that would not break when it hit glass or the person found a way to break the glass from afar first and lob the potion perfectly through the tiny hole. I shook my head, and walked into my home. Sheila came with, followed by Ruckus who seemed a little more excited.

[depes7448]

"Nothing's... broken?" Sheila asked, perplexed. We searched the entire house, but not one thing was harmed inside. We did, however, find some glass shards from the potion. Maybe I really did overreact to some cocky kid's prank. Sighing in relief, I walked to my bedroom where Sheila was still inspecting. I snickered when I noticed her pouting.

"Honestly, I don't understand how you can live in all this dust!"

"Speak for yourself. Don't you live in a mud hut?"

"Oh, ha ha. My house is just dirty 'cause of all the rats that sneak inside. What's your excuse?" Sheila placed her hands on her hips in a disapproving gesture. It was ironic for a person of poverty who lived in a run-down house to view a middle-class man with such disappointment about his hygiene. Trying to hold back a scoff, I turned to look at something else, but I managed to find myself staring at my own reflection in a mirror I had yet to hang on a wall.

Thin because of my light eating habits, I always wore clothes that were loose on me, and the gardening I do everyday left its mark on my clothing through dirt stains, tiny holes, and faded color. My skin resembled the skin of a white onion, but my hair stood proudly on my temple with a reddish-brown tone. Around my neck, I wore a small silver chain with a key at the end that would open the door to my secret stash, and the inconspicuous brass rod connected to my red bracelet would unlock a black box I kept with my stash. Across my left cheek rested a long, dark brown mark that many have mistaken for some hideous birthmark. Actually, I got that scar from a fire long ago when my father dropped his cigarette in his barn. Every time I saw my scar, the image of flames licking my clothes would enter my mind, and if I rubbed it, I would feel the intense heat of a metal bar my cheek landed upon, its searing touch like razor-sharp glass shards with liquefied red peppers at the tips.

Then I noticed Sheila looking over my shoulder. Even with my body blocking her reflection, I could still spot her dirt-matted face, covering up the soft pale skin I saw only once in the time I knew her. Her shoulders were permanently squared from her time of bearing the pressure to feed her two younger sisters and maintain her small garden. Sheila was always a tough person, even when her father left his family because of his frustration over the absence of a son. Her mother then fell to depression, unable to take care of her children since she would repeatedly drink until she fell asleep or wake up with severe hangovers. But Sheila never complained. She worked hard, carrying heavy pails of water everyday and hoeing her small garden each season. She would pick the meager vegetables and apples to make bitter stew, and she would tirelessly help her brothers whenever they stuck themselves with a thorn or complained of a stomachache. I would always offer to help, but Sheila's pride kept her from accepting any. Soon, her mother hung herself and her brothers grew to age when an Expert swung by, offering the two young girls schooling in the main town. Sheila never heard from them since then, but Little Robbie would occasionally deliver envelopes with some coins inside. Sheila's group of companions slowly dwindled down to Ruckus and I. Everybody else was too busy to notice a lanky farm girl dressed in old rags sewn together.

Ruckus butted his head against my shoulder. He snorted at the mirror and whipped his tail impatiently. He had this uncanny way of knowing what I was thinking and often shared my emotions. Nodding, I moved the mirror aside to uncover small shelves lined with books I have not read in years. After pulling some of them out, I flipped open a tiny wooden cover in the back. A keyhole lay underneath, and I took off my necklace to use its key. Meanwhile, Sheila crouched next to me, looking confused and interested at the same time. As the lock clicked open, her lips made a small "o" in surprise.

"I trust you won't tell anyone?" I asked with my fingers patiently wrapped around my safe's latch.

"We've known each other for years, Jacob. You know me better. I just wish you'd show me this before." I smiled at her, and opened the wooden door to my safe. Then I reached into the far back, eventually pulling out a long black box, invisible inside the dark compartment. I pulled out my other key and opened up the box. Sheila gasped when picked up its contents.