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Category: Writing and Poetry

Untitled History I

The bar was half-ly open, only a few customers were there, mostly workers of the landscapes that preceded it. The Pinewood was a good source for cheap wood since no one wants “Cursed” materials. And not only wood but also minerals, the black soil was highly fertile yet everything there it was planted got huge, as cosmological pumpkins, they kept growing even on your stomach after eating, so the food at the bar was pretty much known for both of them to be “Off Limits”
They sat on a table near the door, the wood seemed solid enough for them to unpack, unlike the little table that the crystal couldn’t hold, this one was firm and stiff, wood of quality it seemed, but Qüas knew that it was not it, the place by itself was weird, a dimly lit bar with still good candles? And no protection from fire, the bartender at the front directly facing the entrance and just 7 people there with both of them being counted. Something was going on in the back, the terrible sound of knives and flames was louder than it should be in Qüas ears. 

~Don't you think it's awfully quiet up here? ~

- Hm?-

~Sh! shush down, and listen here, the group of that table doesn't talk to each other, they've been looking at you. ~

~Better yet, the bartender saw us and went to the back, doesn't this remind you of anything? ~

~ You mean Astmin Hills?~

She said lowering her head to his ear as if she was going for a kiss on his cheek, the slight and reassuring nod of Qüas head made sure to acknowledge the imminent explosion of a bar that was going to be. The men were not so buff, they looked slank and somewhat broad, beards in some and others without the capacity to grow one yet, they dressed on this common folk clothing in a way it resembled a cliche of woodmen living in a cabin, they were sipping in steel mugs, yet the sips were shorter each time and the roasted chicken in the middle of their table was now a cold skeleton of an undetermined animal that once resembled a chicken. Qüas wasn't superstitious yet he believes in questions, and for him? He began his preaching in silence «For what the world asks if not for our response? For what the earth rumbles if not for moving us? Shall we ignore what lies underneath us, or should we pay attention to them. These rocks, soil and soul of passing time…» The underneath of his silky robes began to sharpen and tightly square up in a blue hue, solidifying every each and unique sweat drop on it in a little dead barnacle form just as the wooden chips that he made to his fire. In silence, an undercoat was forming on his arms and chest, awaiting for someone to take his order. After all, they're there to eat something.

Nasilv by her side went to the services in a calm pace, reciting her usual preach in a lower voice «Guide thy will and show thou who mean to harm my blade and assault, shine thou who dangers to me.» Short and basic, to pole attention to negativity unfelt by her but detected imminently by her watcher. She sat on the bunk at closing her eyes and fist made a connection, a lightly and fine line in between her and the another unseen dimension from where the attraction surges, as one line made synapse, hundreds of thousands of lines made connections as well, strengthening the surface area of deterring pressure she inhabit naturally as a witch, Nasilv skin began to mimic tremors who talked to her, she knew each opponent well enough now, their own way and their forced one. Freeing herself she returned to a full table, two pints, one of wine for Qüas, one of tea for Nasilv, and a plate of vegetables charred with carbon and still smoking, the air was already know to her, the tense precision of each stare and movement. 

They were fully paying attention to the table with the great woman and the insignificant men on that side of the bar, they were eager at first to make a move, they seemed of wealth and of certain name. They looked lost and seemingly were not prepared for these lands, with those clothes… They don't work, clearly. Noblemen? Impossible, not without their court of guards, they look dirty, surely those two were here by accident and we could get a few things from them. How can we proceed? We cannot make trouble in the bar anymore… 

Nasilv and Qüas were having their dinner with fake calm, Nasilv made an apparent conversation with Qüas to relax him, he wasn't relaxing but preaching still in subtext with each word, tensing up and more with each attempt of the now forcedly nice Nasilv. But for their surprise the group of men stood up, paid the bartender and got out of the bar, in a single movement of them the watcher and the witch felt a sense of ease, a sigh of relief and a small chuckle of honestly sparked from the dumbfounded Qüas.

–Ha! They were here for dinner too! –

–I'm going to be honest, I expected axes and daggers being drawn as with that Astmin Hills bar we went to. –

– Eat and shut – Said the witch in a joking tone –

–At ease, soldier! – Said in a laugh the now totally relaxed and happy Qüas, with a grin of victory in his face –We thought wrong and you don't like that, uh? –

– You ignore what I don't, as always, trust me for once you dunce. –

–Why do you say that? They already paid and left, I doubt they'll come back for us. –

– Sorry to tell you this but I feel them still – Said the witch with a mouth almost filled with carrots and onions. –

– How come you feel them? – Asked the worried watcher as he drank carefully to not spill a drop of his beverage once the bliss was gone – You mean that you can “Feel” them? Are they your new poles? –

– Not my new poles, I’d lose the book, dunce. –
– If anything, I sense them in the place, I see what they’ll do. –

– You say that as if I believe you can do that, you always say the same. –

– What can I do, is what I do best. – Said Nasilv shrugging off all the other times she saw danger and failed to fulfill it. 

The two of them ate in silence for the rest of the evening, they surely made time in there enough to see it fill with the remnants of those who finished their workloads and the ones who finished late, at this moment the gemstones were worth nothing but dust and the magnetic overflow turned into a gray powder in Nasilv’s shoulders. The grim day was turnt orange in the shades of night, their day passed from scavenging a scene on the Pinewoods to having a moment to breathe in the almost craved smell of people around them, almost mesmerizing after the two weeks put in their travel.

But the time to move was now. They paid in rusted coins, slightly more heavy than those made on the mines, the bartender gave a waving hand at them and they marched right on the deeper part of the woods again in search for that one book. “Mac’s Velvet Colorthurgy” was it, a book made by a legionnaire of the cursed lands, a cursed man himself learnt to write and wrote, and sure he did. Pages full of the effects of colors in the mind, in the weaponization of the poisonous blue, the murky green, the fervorous red and more, the minding tandem that followed each, how to string colors and make new of them, the one most coveted in those pages was a color only seen by the adepts of the book teachings, Velvet was a shade of red and purple, in the infinite spectrum between them, a color to summon fire and thunder, extremely dangerous in both hands of watchers and witches. It was reportedly stolen from the main court library a few weeks ago, almost a month ago, but who knows when it was really stealthed along with someone's clothes. The point is, Altas wanted his book back the quickest possible and they were the poor devils who he found first.

The air outside was a gentle reminder, dry and warm, the forest, the pines laying low and the pinecones in the ground half sprouted, the bar was in the clare of the town in the outsides of it, a town that didn’t hold much more than a couple of houses and little to nothing more than a road for the supplements to arrive, Qüas and Nasilv took initiative to travel the night after such a rest. Except when they got into the brown pillars of weakened essence they felt eyes surrounding them as a predatory example of a beast, a master or a sage. The forest was calmly at ease with letting no light whatsoever get past the dense tapestry high above tweened by the pines as leaves and sticks wildly grown. Ever so growing, for what the first glance at each other's eyes made the alarm ring instantly.

His eyes, glowy spheres in brownish and deep undertones and her eyes mimicking the clear sky brightness in the shade of the setting sun. Mallet was drawn, already with fervent spikes of a deep reddish garnet and as soon as the predatory eyes were glooming step by step over them, ever so relentlessly stalking, she drew her cestus along.
In a silent strike from the march of Qüas and Nasilv a scream was heard in their left, and from it all over indistinct voices took over the low and crowded wildlife forest they were in. Bashing axes were swung in direction of them, daggers thrown and stuck in the ground, in the shadows casted by the trees there was nothing more to be seen but faint glimpses of punches shone by the breaking of even more crystals, the crackling sound of the encounter was short, but intense, between shouts and grunts by different voices could be heard shatterings of glasses, breaking of bones, flesh being wounded by sharp objects and wood being struck by the confident ingenuity that the gloomy darkness infected over everyone’s mind.
A long pause was then presented, and the eyes met, clear and bright, glowing deeply, they found each other.

Qüas ignited a torch without notice, his tinderbox was almost empty but it was more his curiosity than anything else. The amber light of the fire revealed the scene of the prey, and the hunted. He firstly saw his clothes slashed and his bloody hand, a cut was made on his skin, if the ax were anything but blunt he would’ve lost his hand. He saw over Nasilv, she was gasping for air, clearly moved and with her body moving from side to side still, as if the fight was not over yet. The ground was scattered with blood glops and different pieces of clothing and their items, alongside them were the now dead bodies of 5 particular men who seemed recognizable. The witch was now satisfied but discomforted. Some of the bodies were still breathing but beaten up, swelling on their faces and just laying there with their eyes closed, fighting now for breath, the others were pierced by dissolving crystals, red crystals by desire and design but also from blood and incompetence of the wearer of them.

– See what I tell you? – Said the witch with a cocky but tired look on her face –

– Snuff that out now, I don’t want to see them anymore. – Broke Nasilv into the commentary before Qüas was able to make any comment. –

Qüas obliged and left them postrated on the ground, suffering in the dark and in the wish and destiny of the crawlers of the forest, whoever wants them will get them, yet still, it was not his style, by fact he’d be more than willing to kill the one who still breathed and he couldn’t feel but slightly disgusted at the ways of her partner, but after all it was his duty to protect her and hers to protect him.
Now again in the darkness, following her, Qüas thought again.
“Why would anyone rob a book? What could be their intentions?”
But he was wise enough to not bring them up yet. Otherwise he could suffer an ending as those hunters. 

2 Kudos


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