Poison and New Chances

  Scott left the gas station, he lowered his baseball cap so nobody could clearly see his face, or where his eyes wandered to. A fifty-two ounce root beer in one hand and a carton of nachos in the other. He hurried to the taxi before the man became more irritated. Scott listened to the man sing quietly to the tunes of pop star, “Britney Spears”. Scott laid back, he zipped up his black jacket to keep him warm, covering up his also black shirt, both had unreadable logos of metal bands. He began to watch the people pass by quickly, or was it him that passed by them so fast? Thinking would get a person nowhere but to more questions in seek of answers. People walked, talked, laughed, fought and robbed in the night. It wasn’t the best part of the town, which irritated the taxi man even more, but it was the only place with such large cups of root beer. The taxi man began to speak, but Scott paid no mind, he nodded and pulled out his phone. It was cracked from one corner to the other and the case had been picked off, his lock screen shone brightly and made him squint, he saw the picture of one of his favorite music albums. Scott sighed, he put his phone down and rested his head back, starting to think back to why he yet didn’t have his license, Lack of motivation and want. A faint smile crossed Scott’s lips as he lazily laid further back into the sleep. His eyelids grew arms and tried to lift weights, but quickly fell. The root beer held tight against his chest, the nachos bounced on the seat next to him, warm cheese had spilled onto his khaki corduroys, but he paid no mind. He gave a nod and a quiet reply to the taxi man as sleep drowned him.

“Hello? Are you alright, Scott? Lemme help you up, there’s not much time.”

“One more minute, mom” Scott replied to the strange voice, but he had questions for it, how did it know his name? Why was the voice so cryptic and hard to understand? Were they a cute girl? Or maybe they were the taxi driver. And why was mom his first reaction? He hadn’t even said, “Mom” in years. “Scott you’ll be late.” The voice resounded one last time, flowing through his ears, whirling around his brain and coming out again, leaving his ears wanting more. It was loud, it was sweet, it was magnificent. He desired more, his eyes struggled to open, his body not use to the sudden motivation to move. He moved slowly, his mind acting faster than his body. His eyes blinked and fluttered. Scott outstretched a hand, it landed on a seat in front of him, he squeezed the seat to steady himself. What is this? This isn’t the crude worn leather of before. It feels more comfortable, it feels like a rug made from an animal. An animal’s fur! That doesn’t make sense, we don’t use that for seats anymore. Scott’s mind raced, trying to piece together a blank puzzle wasn’t easy. He jumped up, he was obviously still moving but the road had grown rocky and rough. His eyes were still glazed over, and he let out a startled grunt as he opened them, quickly pulling his hat down. “What the hell!” The sun had come up, how long has he been in this taxi! “Hello?” were his first words. He quickly restrained himself from saying too much. “I’m not worth a ransom.” Scott blurted out, he was in a shower of sweat.

“What the hell are you doing in my caravan, human?!” A raspy voice had called out, it sounded like just speaking hurt the man’s voice. Scott opened his eyes wide, ignoring the blindness that came with it. After a moment he could see, and it was the opposite of what he was expecting. A big figure sat in front of him, it’s well toned muscles like mountains on his arms. There was one problem. They didn’t have skin. It was replaced with rippling fur, not like a dog or a cats, but the pelt of a bear. Looking up from the arms and to what Scott assumed was a head he clarified that he was dreaming. It looked like a bear, but it didn’t sound like a bear. The head turned around, pure sickly yellow slits opened, its eyes were a full yellow with a midnight black pupil. When its mouth opened it opened like a human’s, circling for O sounds and rolling its wide tongue.

“I’ll say it one more time. What in Zarlaths name are you doing in my caravan?”

“I, uh, that’s a good question that I don’t have an answer to.” Scott replied hastily, he didn’t feel like getting mauled today.

“Are ya here ta’ rob me?” The bear inquired, still angry.

“No! None of those things… Last I remember I was asleep listening to a bald Indian sing horribly and then I’m here.”

“What the hell is an Indian?” The bear asked, about to lose his temper. Scott laughed hysterically, not because it was funny but because it was the only reaction he could seize inside of all of his confusion. The bear grunted and gave a hard pull on a pair of ropes that were attached to a pair of strange looking creatures. Amidst his insanity, Scott was flown in the air from the abrupt stop. Flying out of the caravan, for a caravan had no back to it, the wooden cart had a white tarp that covered the top, but left the front and back wide open. Scott expected to land on soft grass, in a bush, or even solid dirt. However he gave a loud yelp as he landed on hard stone. Scott finally looked up at the creature, unsure of what to say or do next.

“I-I’m Scott.” Were the only words that could be scrounged up from his mind, which for once in his life had become a desolate desert.

“Belgruuf.” The bear responded timidly.

“Could you maybe tell me where I am?” After a laugh and brushing away a tear from his eye he looked down at Scott. “Ya serious?” Belgruuf had become the surprised one, not fully knowing how to approach Scott. Scott gave a nod and answered him. “Like I said I just woke up here.”

“You’re in the capital of Syptrim, boy, rich place, dangerous folk about, lucky ya woke up in my caravan.”

With those words Scott finally took a minute to look around, he hadn’t the time for observation. He looked past the angry bear man, there were distinctive features of people, but they weren’t people. Well they weren’t human. There were some humans, and it seemed like this Syptrim was the equivalent to America’s melting pot. The buildings were odd, like he was inside a history book. Nothing was run down, it was the opposite, although most buildings were made from wood and stone they still looked well kept and carefully made. The stone contrasted with the wood, the wood supported the stone, they wove together like a masterpiece. Some buildings were of cobblestone, others were polished marble stone. The buildings were second hand however. The outside! Scott couldn’t believe his eyes! His home, his world, had become so urbanized and industrialized that it seemed the grass had even felt it. Not here! The grass was the most beautiful shade of green, like Van Gogh himself painted a picture and Scott jumped into it. The bushes, the trees, the grass, it was all so green, unlike he had ever seen before. It was bright and healthy, this world didn’t know the meaning of pollution. Unfortunately Scott was snapped back into reality by the gruff growling voice,

“I don’t take kindly to beggars, moochers, or prostitutes, so you’d better be on your way.”

“I’ll have you know I am in no way a prostitute, although thank you for the compliment, you are not my type.” Scott said, he wasn’t thinking, he just jumped up and acted on his impulse, speaking quickly and slurring to get the point across. Belgruuf gave a faint chuckle and turned away, whipping the animals to pull the caravan, yelling back to Scott,

“Be careful, Scott, you look like you’ve got easy pickings on you.” and with that Belgruuf was gone. Scott gave a slight groan, immediately jumping to action at the man’s words, thinking to himself. What the hell does easy pickings mean?!

“Bah, crazy old man.” Scott said to himself. Scott pulled his hat up, ran his fingers through his long damp hair and sighed. He came to his senses at the sight of the giant marble arch. Well-polished, well-kept and not a marking of vandalism or graffiti, like a beautiful monument. It reflected as if it knew it were beautiful. Caravans, creatures and people came through, all walking or riding on the same path. No roads and no sidewalks, but somehow everyone worked in unison. Scott took a deep breath in, and took a step forward, no sooner did a horse race by him. Taken by surprise, never having been so close to a horse he spun unintentionally, like a goofy cartoon character. He took a step forward, which was no longer the forward he wanted to go, and instead his foot sunk deep. He gave out a disgusted sound, resonating from his throat and shaking his lips. “Wait I know this feeling…” Scott muttered to himself before looking down. His face turned into a melting pot of crayons, orange, to blue, and then to purple. He lurched forward, covering his mouth with his hand. The sickly bile of throw up sinking back to his stomach. He finally breathed out and took several steps back, talking to himself,

“That was the biggest pile of shit I’ve ever seen...” He was breathing heavy, shaking his foot madly, he let out a startled yelp when he bumped against the steps behind him, and he fell down hard. Pulling himself up he sat on the stairs for a moment.

“What am I supposed to do? I don’t even know where the hell I am!” Scott mumbled to himself. Talking to himself for a good while before he finally broke. His body slumped and he fell against the wall next to the steps. Scott brought his knees up to his chest, burying his face in his knees and softly sobbing. His sobs grew ever more intense, he couldn’t hold back. His mind was first place in a NASCAR race, he couldn’t pinpoint one thought, they slurred together and eventually he became drunk from thinking, so he spoke aloud, easing the tension of his growing pain, “Will I never return home? Was there ever real? Is here even real? Am I dreaming? Am I dead? The taxi must have taken me here, but there aren’t any taxis here! Or-or maybe someone drugged me. Maybe i’m at a furry convention, or comic-con. Is this a sick joke? Maybe i’m here for a reason? I don’t know what the fuck to do! I’m accustomed to living shittily not homelessly!” He stopped, his thought process slowed and he focused on the one thought that confused him.

“That’s it… I never did anything in my life, so this is what? Some sick joke of a second chance? Is there even a way home? If I wanted to get home that is…” Scott trailed off and stood rigid, he scratched the unkempt beard on his chin, thinking to himself, do I really want to go home? There isn’t really a home to go back to. I mean do I go back to being a loser or...

“What in the name of Ralfuul are you babbling about kid?”

“Kid?” Scott whispered to himself, somewhat coming back to the strange reality. If I really am some hero where’s my sword! Or my staff! I’ll settle for some daggers! Scott’s mind raced in desperation. So many questions. He spun himself around to see who the speaker was. A broad man of exceptional stature, neatly buzzed hair, military style, a long scar stretched from above, through and below his right eye. He rolled up the sleeves of his black jacket, with no zipper nor undershirt. “Yeah, kid.” He said the words so disdainfully like just the simple conversation costed him his wife and kids. “I asked you to give me your money...” With a smirk he finished, “...And you said that sounded delightful.”

“Now why the hell would I do something like that-” Scott froze, the last thing he heard was the man chuckle. He could see shapes in different colors, like you squeeze your eyes really hard. Was he in a void? What was going on? His mind raced, but in the same moment went completely blank and he heard voices. They were whispering in his year, yelling in his cranium and conversing in his brain. His body moved of its own will. Reaching into his pocket to pull for his wallet, he was entranced in the colors and the voices, unable to call out to them or ask them one of the many questions he had for some reason forgotten. But he knew there was something he wanted to ask. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket, unable to do anything else, his eyelids over exerted weight lifters about to fall over.

“Sal-Tul!” A voice resounded, a female’s voice, it was sweet sounding and rang comfortably in his ears, yet strong and assertive all the same. However this voice was different from the others, it had distance and wasn’t inside of him. Suddenly the world went dark, he had become blind and deaf. He screamed, or at least that’s what he thought he did. Suddenly the lights came back on and his ears popped from the sudden noises. He was on the floor, for whatever reason his eyes and ears itched like crazy. Scott looked up to see the man running by him, his face flustered and red, Scott gulped at the thought of what made the man run. He stood up, his legs shook like he just got off a boat. Looking up he saw a black cloak float over the ground, it had rich purple lining that covered the edges and formed across the sleeves, tracing itself around the whole cloak and every limb. Looking further up his eyes were caught by the sight of his savior’s hair. It was almost translucent, it was the brightest blonde Scott had ever seen. It swayed in the wind as if it were riding a roller coaster, it frizzed up just a little in some places, and the end of her hair was down at her rear. He put a hand out, he wanted to feel the hair, it was so special. Was he dead? Is this the hair of an angel? Scott ran his fingers up through the hair, ignoring the quiet yelp of surprise from the person. “Your hair, it’s so beautiful.” Scott said softly, not wanting to disrupt the moment. The moment right after he had his hands in the hair a strong hand grabbed his. His savior turned. She was blushing faintly, but her eyes had a fire in them, and her eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?!” She asked, already impatient.

“I just wanted to feel your” Scott paused, he was caught up in her beauty, “hair.”

“Well just ask next time...” She said, her voice trailing off shyly after every syllable. Scott took a moment, mesmerized, unable to think clearly after everything that had happened. Her eyes were a beautiful mix of green and blue, like two shades of the ocean trying to fight each other. Her cheeks, were beautifully blushed, but they stood out when she talked or showed emotion, she was a true chipmunk. Her lips were smaller than average size, but had an amazing color, not too pale and not too bright, they stood out but not too much. She looked at Scott and jumped back a little, letting go of his hand. “What do you think you’re doing?!” She accused

“I uh, well I don’t know really...” Scott was at a loss for words.

“Just-just don’t hold my hand again!” She said, looking at anything but him, her cheeks growing rosier. “And don’t crawl through horse remains and then stroll in alleyways!” She added, finally growing the courage to look at him, puffing her cheeks out a little in defiance.

“My names Scott.” It was the only thing he could blurt out, for his thoughts had finally came racing back and he was swarmed with so many questions that they fought, and not a single one could reach his tongue. “Oh well my name is...” she was obviously taken aback from the sudden change. “...Solaira” She looked up at him, her toes dug into the ground and she rocked her heel back and forth. Scott took a gulp, breathing out and standing straight, like a man he puffed his chest out without thinking, trying to look as masculine as possible. He decided he’d fake the confidence of not knowing where he was, he’d learn eventually. It can’t be a heaven, he wasn’t at all religious, so there’s no way he’d be spared, and after all he’s already gone through immense amounts of shit. He shook his head and kept the posture, he let out a heavy breath and started talking, “I have no idea what the fuck just happened, but I am undoubtedly in your debt now and forever.” Does that work? I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation that lasted this long with a girl. Scott’s thoughts were a fence that he needed a ladder to climb over. However, odd enough, Solaira laughed, she held a hand over her mouth and her cheeks blew up again. “It’s really all right, Scott, I didn’t save you because I wanted.” She replied through laughter.

“Then why go through the trouble?” he felt like his shoulders were about to slump but he kept posture. “Because I thought he might have information on the next raid- wait!” She stopped and her face turned into a child’s drawing, except the child only had the color red. Her forehead dripped and she looked for a moment, her hand over her mouth again. “Should not have said that! Definitely shouldn’t have told you that.” She looked up at him, her eyes almost pleading him to comfort her. Scott nodded and stopped the bravado, “Listen, Solaira, I don’t know anything about these raids but I promise to accompany you and keep you safe.” She looked at him with shock, not completely the answer she was expecting. Scott nodded and smiled, slowly stretching a hand onto her shoulder. She looked at him for a minute, before taking in a breath, walking behind him and poking his back. She prodded the skin underneath his shoulder blades, examining him.  “Are you an Angel spy? Are you working with them? Is Scott your real name? Are you here to kidnap me?” Solaira asked so many more questions, how did she not run out of breath! Scott turned around and grabbed her hands, obviously a little annoyed, he held her hands in the air, “What the hell is all this nonsense about Angels and Wings?” Scott said, flustered, his questions piling up.

“Well Angel is the common tongue word for the being. In the common tongue I’m what the call a devil.” She took a breath and Scott stepped back, he had never gone to church but he knew some religious stuff. Solaira looked a little hurt and pulled him back, grabbing at his hand. “Devil’s aren’t bad guys! In fact it’s the opposite!” Scott raised an eyebrow, trying to wrap his head around her words.

“So you’re a good guy?” He asked, finally his turn.

“Yep! Devil since the day I was born!”

“Where I’m from the Devils are the bad guys.”

“Where are you from? Stenvile?” She looked, up, curious and cautious.


“What is an Ohio?” Solaira was dumbfounded, like she knew every state of every country.

“Y’know, it’s a Midwest state in the U.S.” Somehow Scott knew it wasn’t sinking in.

“So in Ohio I’d be a bad person?” she thought for a moment, “I don’t want to be bad! No! No! No! I don’t!” Her long silk and frizzy hair flew fast, a kamikaze around her head, She quickly stopped and stood on her tippy toes, she held her hands together at her chest and looked up at Scott, her eyes were wells that were about to explode with water, “You don’t th-think I’m bad, do you Scott?” Solaira asked quietly. Scott thought for a moment, This girl doesn’t have an off button does she?  Her emotions were taking him on a boat ride in a tsunami, he took a breath and answered surely, “Of course not, why would I offer protection to someone I thought was bad?”

Solaira rested back on her heels, letting out a sigh and smiling, still looking up at Scott, they had been extremely close for a moment, and it had left Scott flustered. Scott smiled back down at her, they were both quiet for a moment, just looking at each other. Scott finally broke the silence and piped up, “So about this raid, is it the angels that are attacking then?”

“Well of course, wait” Solaira looked up and studied his face, “so you don’t know anything about the war?” Scott shook his head, Solaira ignored him and then resumed her nonstop chatter, “Well you see the Angels are greedy, yet beautiful, which is all their gods fault, GorDash. You see Gordash is the king of greed and lust, and all things disgusting. GorDash made the Angels, stunningly beautiful, unlike anything natural, but they have a greed that can never be satisfied, similar to their creator. So the Angels are determined to take everything they can, and they’ve finally decided to set their sights on our kingdom, Syptrim.” She finally stopped, to Scott’s amazement, she bent over a little and took quick, deep breaths before rambling on again. “Syptrim is one of the oldest kingdoms in all the known world, and we’re in the capital, Strantum, which is a huge trade center and market. Now the reason the Angels don’t already own everything is because the more common god, Ralfuul, created what is now known as Devil’s, solely because we can use shadow magic. Nobody is afraid of us as one might think actually we’re well respected from followers of Ralfuul, for we’re the destined protectors, and so Devils and Angels have been waging a war since the dawn of time. Except Angels have been taking more advantage, for our number are dwindling. You see Ralfuul made us a fertile species and because everyone is so entranced with war…” She looked up, hoping that Scott would understand everything.

Scott’s eyes were wide and he stared right through Solaira, not completely what sure to think at the moment. “Am I... am I dead?” he asked hushed, looking directly in Solaira’s eyes.

Solaira poked his stomach and shook her head, “nope you’re as alive as me.”

“I’m not from around here, you understand that much, right?”

“Yup! You’re from far away though” Her lips poked up as she thought for a moment, “I’m guessing you need a place to stay? And you did vow to protect me...” Solaira grinned. Scott raised his hands up and shook his head quickly, his hat sliding around, “I wouldn’t want to burden you.”

“You get to be my servant!” She scratched her head and walked in circles around him, “you don’t look like a fighter, or a cook, or a maid, what are you good at anyways?” She asked nonchalantly, Scott slumped over, his arms hanging down, “I can fight, somewhat, and besides I said i’d help you, y’know, as partners!” Scott’s voice grew as he talked on.

Solaira giggled and blushed a little, looking away for a moment, “Devil’s usually don’t work with Common humans, or even demi-humans.” She looked up, her cheeks still flushed, “And besides you’d be in danger...” Scott stopped her and shook his head.

“As the hero of this story it is my sworn duty! If I am to be your servant for free I ask of one favor!” He stood defiantly, pointing one finger into the air in front of her face, continuing his speech, “If I am your servant then I request I follow you everywhere! Every quest, every room, I will be your servant and slowly become your partner!” Scott was panting slightly from such an exertion, he usually never gave speeches. I sound so creepy right now, but she is my only lead on what’s going on with me. Solaira shook her head amidst her giggling, she finally breathed in, her cheeks pushing outwards again, “It is an odd request, one I’ve never heard and I’ve been alive for two-hundred years.” She took a moment of thought, looking up into the sky, “I’ll allow it because I’ve found you funny and it gets lonely.”

“That was easier than expected.” Scott hunched over a little in happiness, sighing and looking down at Solaira, “So where do you live?” Scott questioned, his stomach starting to reminisce the times they had shared with the nachos. Solaira jumped a little and scratched the back of her head, “Well you see I just arrived here and I don’t really have a house or anything yet so…” Scott face palmed himself, hard, sighing and putting a hand on her shoulder, “Do you at least have money?”

“Yup! Tons of it! I’m here on a veeeery long surveillance mission!”

“Lemme see, all I have is Five’s.”

“Five what?” Solaira had become confused, reaching for the purse that hung next to her.

“Five dollars, it’s my country’s money, just forget it.”

“Okay, well I’ve got about hmm” She took a minute, counting, “holy cow! Five-thousand Stellings!”

“I’m gonna take a guess and say that’s your currency?” Solaira nodded, pulling out different coins, they looked like quarters, but just a little bigger, they varied in color and luster, Scott could at once tell they were bronze, silver and gold. Scott let out a happy sigh, grinning to himself, he had been dreaming of a magical quest since he was young. Solaira looked up at him, her eyes squinted a little, studying Scott, “I guess the ‘higher-ups’ deemed this mission important.”

“I’ll say! Five-thousand smackers!” Scott was a little giddy, he had money and a cute girl.

“Yup! Now let’s go find ourselves an inn, so you don’t have any money?”

“Nope!” Scott said with an uncertain enthusiasm.

“Any weapons? Swords, bows, staff?” She questioned him, sweat began to melt his forehead.

“Well I mean I did just kinda wake up here...” Scott’s voice dragged off, embarrassed.

“Do you even have anything?” She asked, a little annoyed her ‘servant’ was useless.

Scott reached into his pockets, searching his cargo pants thoroughly. “Wait… here it is!” Scott pulled out his shitty smartphone with headphones plugged into the bottom. Solaira’s eyes widened and she took a step forward, walking circles around it, standing on her tippy toes and peering at the screen. Scott had begun to scroll through until he eventually opened his music app. Solaira looked up at him, her eyes glimmered and her mouth was shaped in an ‘O’, she had never seen a phone.

“So what does it do? Is it an advanced paper weight?” She poked her finger at the screen, which immediately caused a song to play. “Eeep!” Was the only sound she could make as she stumbled backwards, bumping into Scott. The heavy music kept playing, it probably scared her, that music wasn’t really that loved in his world either. Scott fell on his back with Solaira on top of him, he looked up at her, so much time had passed another song had begun to play. Solaira couldn’t look at Scott but she couldn’t get up either, Scott smiled softly and watched her big chipmunk cheeks puff out and blush. She caught on and stood up quickly, hands on her hips, looking down at Scott, “What are you smiling about?”

“You just looked really cute from where I was lying.” Super smooth, Scott Light.

“Well just don’t get any ideas! You are my servant after all!” She huffed and looked up at the sky, holding her hand out for Scott, “Well c’mon! We don’t have all day y’know!” When Scott grabbed her hand she stood straight and stiffened, her cheeks flushed again. Scott hustled up, standing back above Solaira, he let out a puff and nodded, smiling at her, “So about these weapons…” He trailed off, Solaira walked beside him and laughed. She had begun to lead him in the direction of the local smithy, the best smithy in the capital. Solaira looked up at Scott when he talked, and smiled, her cheeks pushed up when she did.

“So what kind’ve weapon do you think i’m suited for?” Scott could barely keep his feet planted, he was about to go skipping, “A majestic katana, or maybe crude poisoned daggers, maybe i’ll take a bow.” He rambled on.

“The reason the smithy here is so great is because he has a keen eye for weapons and their suitors.”

“How so?” Scott stopped jumping around and tilted his head to listen closely.

“Well he can just sense what weapon would work for you, he’s only ever been wrong once.”

“So you mean I don’t get to pick!” Scott slumped his shoulders.

“Not necessarily, you can be suited for multiple things, who knows!”

“Then what are we waiting for!” Scott exclaimed, grabbing Solaira’s hand, she jumped a little, “lead the way!” but before she could say anything Scott started to run off, dragging her behind. Solaira raced to keep up, starting to pant amidst her uncontrollable giggles. She squeezed Scott’s hand and stopped, Scott did the same, looking down at her.

“We’re here!” she pointed a finger at the door to the smithy.

“Shall we make our way inside?” Scott bowed and raised and arm towards the building.


“No?” Scott echoed.

“Only one person can be evaluated, besides I have to go look for inns!”

“But I should come with you, will you be safe? Can you go without me? Are you sure you’ll be safe?” Already Scott sounded clingy, he gulped the rest of the words down and nodded, “Alright, but be careful, and yell for me if you need anything.” Solaira nodded, looking up at him, reluctantly slipping her hand away. She smiled and waved, turning away and almost skipping to find an inn. She had given Scott most of the money, which made him wonder just how much a weapon was. He took a deep breath and took the first step, and another. Baby steps, he was still becoming accustomed to his new life.

Things weren’t all bad, he barely saw his parents anymore, they had almost completely forgotten him, like the time they literally forgot about him at the airport. He didn’t really have any friends either, he just cooped himself up in his ragtag apartment all day, playing video games and eating food, watching old eighties B movies. He outcasted himself before he could be outcasted, which he figured he would be. Life wasn’t bad, life wasn’t good, for as long as he could remember it was just life, day in and day out. Same shit different day. It wasn’t lack of parents or friends, it was the lack of ideals, Scott had no motivation, no want, and sometimes he thought he didn’t need anything. It was weird to him however, sure he had cried but being in this place, meeting Solaira, walking through the town, had opened his eyes. Scott questioned himself over and over knowing he wouldn’t get anwers, and the people couldn’t or wouldn’t help. The only thing he would miss would be chili dogs, maybe he’d wait a couple hundred years for one.

Scott shook his head, he needed to do this, what was the point in being in a strange new world if he couldn’t protect himself. Or Solaira. Scott shivered, it was strange how he felt about her, never before had he gotten ‘butterflies’ or became giddy over a girl. Never had he clung so hard to protect someone. Am I under some kind of spell she placed on me? She is a demon after all, wait can she read my mind? The questions never ended, and he was left trying to fight off millions of them at once. He pulled his cap off and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling his hair back under the hat. His hair was being microwaved inside the hat, but Scott never took it off.

With one more step Scott was at the door. He nodded, he would just wing it, it was working so far. He walked in, looking around, suddenly he thought winging it was a bad idea. Weapons all lined up the wall, from intensive hours of useless knowledge Scott could name a few. Cutlass, broadsword, something that looked like a katana, scimitars, longbows to crossbows, staffs and daggers, chainmail to leatherworking, the building was dim and it took Scott’s eyes a minute to adjust to the cave like atmosphere. Rope dangled over a doorframe in the back, candlelight illuminated from inside, like the sun was inside. Scott knocked on a wooden beam by what looked like a counter, calling out, “Hello? I was hoping to buy a weapon.” Scott waited a moment, but right before he was about to knock he heard someone snort, as if chuckling to themselves. “I can hear you, this is important, please.”

“Do you know what you’re here for?”

“Well I was hoping you could help..” Scott grew uneasy. The replies stopped for a moment as the person talked to someone else, there was a quiet commotion and a beautiful women walked out. Okay she is not the blacksmith, she’s not a dude. Scott nodded politely as she studied him. Her steps made her body bounce, she walked with force and command. Her white heels clacked on the ground, they almost matched the cream white lining of her pants. She stopped for a moment and looked Scott up and down, Scott’s eyes couldn’t help but wander to her chest more than once, which was openly exposed in a white button shirt, whose buttons were about to blow up and hit him in the face, although the top four or so buttons were undone, exposing her. She wore long white and yellow gloves as sleeves, since her shirt had none. And her long oil black hair slicked behind her ears smoothly. She held a hand over her mouth, scott could barely see a smile.

You gotta do something, idiot. “Hello, miss, you wouldn’t happen to know where the blacksmith is by any chance.” Shit! I don’t know where to look or what to say!

“Yes sir, he’ll be out in any moment.” Her voice wasn’t black like her hair. Scott thought she was singing, but softly, like she was talking to a baby. She was a crow who sung like a dove. Scott nodded, he had obviously been awkwardly quiet, she just covered her smile with her hand.

“I’m Scott by the way.” Scott outstretched a hand.

“Elise.” She shook Scott’s hand strongly, her delicate, slim fingers were strong.

“So what are you looking for?”

“Sadly I can only use staffs, but I have no need for them.”

“No need? Why’s that?” Scott asked, flabbergasted. He didn’t know the rules of this world so he quickly added, “I’m new around here.”

“I can see that.” Elise replied smoothly, licking her teeth a little, “A staff is only used for someone to manifest their will into one focal point. When strong enough, users such as myself, can focalize the point anywhere.”

“I’d ask you more questions but i’m in a bit of a rush.” Scott said, eyeing the back room. Elise leaned forward, her shirt sliding down more as her chest continued to be shown, she was obviously toying with him. She slid a hand underneath Scott’s chin, looking into his eyes, her lips parted in an open smile as she spoke, chills were sent through Scott’s nervous system, but the voice made him smile, “Don’t worry, Light, we’ll be talking again.” With that Elise walked out of the building. Scott stared after her for a moment. Wait, I never said my last name! Scott was about to start after her. Until he heard a noise that hadn’t been present, or at least he didn’t hear before. It sounded like when you put your head underneath water and gurgle. Scott panicked and looked around. “C’mon Scott, be the hero.” Scott slapped his face, walking quickly to the back room, brushing the ropes out of the way. His hand slid against something sticky and warm, Scott pulled his hand away, it was red, it was bubbling, it was fresh. Blood. A trail of dragged blood led on the floor, Scott’s eyes followed it to the back corner of the room, where a large stocky man lay huddled with his hands covering his chest. More blood trickled down his chin from his mouth, tainting his burly chest hairs red. Scott ran over, putting a hand over the large knife wound. The skin was withering, almost melting. The blacksmiths flesh had began to turn a sickly green before falling inside of the man’s chest, melting itself away. The man raised a hand up, touching Scott’s cheek. He opened his mouth, blood spewed out in bursts. The final words muttered are, “Elise” and then the room was quiet.

Blood spilled down his chest and seeped in the cracks of the stone tiles, until the build up was too great. Forming puddles. Scott was kneeling, and blood got onto his pants. He was paralyzed, unsure of what to make of the whole scene. The sight was gruesome and dark, and Scott hadn’t been in a position such as this. Had he been framed? He couldn’t go to jail, he had only just arrived, he still had so much to do. And what about Solaira, what will she think? Did they even have jail? What if he was bluntly executed, sure he had always wanted to see what dying was like. He never had anything so death seemed like his excuse, but now he had something. He had Solaira, and for the first time ever he felt a spark build up inside his chest. The flame was dim but it flickered. He wanted to clean his hands, find the true culprit. Scott was finally able to move, standing up he was breathing heavily. He looked at his hands and shook his head. He didn’t do the killing but he watched him die. Scott looked up, and his breathing steadied. Quickly, loudly, and horrifyingly a knock was heard at the door. Scott whipped around, his hands were bloody. Scott had been caught red handed.

Restart by Trent Davis

Chapter 1: Poison and New Chances.