7/23/2019
I remember the smell of it. Dank, earthen, and mixed with human and nonhuman offal. Stagnate water, a dead rat floating down the aqueduct, bloated, empty sockets for eyes. This was the sewers of Lynshire, home to the three of us. Crouched we watched the rat float by, the discussion about how sick we would get if we ate it or starve another night. These are the memories we will always hold, no matter where we are now, or what we do, this memory will always humble us. There are bits and pieces of my former life before them, Sean and Eric. I prefer to forget them, but they are part of what and who I am today. The day before Rose, Xander and the shadowy figure of Rose’s brother came into our lives.
My name is Annie, a name I gave myself. I cannot recollect the name given to me by the orphanage Nanny. I don’t want to. I do remember the feeling it gave me, being a part of a collective, not an individual. Treated no better than the work horses that pulled the garbage carts, and worse than the street kids.
“Look at them.” Nanny Theresa said, “Scavenging behind the carts, terrible, disgusting, they should be round up and put into the work houses.”
The work houses, yes, the place we were sent to, “Earn our keep”. The place we were pawned off to at the age of five to work off a debt that our parents had bestowed upon us by abandoning us to the Orphanage, instead of thrown in the Vex to die. The work houses where you sewed until your fingertips bled, or inhaled toxic fumes from dyes made illegally, causing all forms of ailments.
“At least they are free.” I replied to Nany Theresa.
A sharp slap across my right cheek brought my full attention back to her. She was tall, thin, gaunt with oily thin black strands of hair, always pulled tight into a bun at the back of her head. So severely pulled back it stretched the opalescent skin on her face back, exposing her sharp cheek bones and thinning her already impossibly small lips. She always looked like she was leering at you, and so pale, we called her the Reaper.
“Back to the floors.” She said tossing the scrub brush at me.
Boar bristles hitting me on the other cheek as I watched it fall to the floor. The sting on my cheeks were similar yet different. One hot and throbbing the other burning and speckled across the skin. Reaching up I rubbed them both at the same time, no tears this time, they had dried ages ago. I nodded, bending to pick up the brush. The rough fabric of the socks and dress I wore distinct against my skin. Plunging the scrub brush into the cleaning mixture it burned my hands and the cracked skin on my knuckles and around my fingernails.
“Annie.”
“Annie, hey, snap out of it.”
The memory faded as I looked up from my journal to see Sean. “What are you doing now? Always writing or reading, we aren’t in school anymore.” His sharp features and gotten more handsome as we aged. No longer the scrawny round-faced child. He was a man now, we were all adults, but Sean was far more toned than the rest of us. He no longer had the dark recessed eyes of being malnourished, or the pale gray colored skin. He was quite handsome, I could see why the girls always fawned over him. Even if I did find it offensive.
I felt my lips curl up into a smile, “Hmm, yes, but you can never learn too much Sean.” Holding my hand out for him to take to help me up from my perch on the step of the porch, “Besides, I am the brains, you and Eric are the brawn.”
“Yeah, that’s right, brawn.” He said as he took my hand. His grip was warm, comforting as I felt the pull and stood up, closing the book and shoving the mechanical pen behind my ear. “What’s brawn?” he asked. “Strength.” I said in answer and sighed, “So what do we do now? We have managed to save a town from what ever fate was to be had, if Bob’s plans were fulfilled.” Sean shrugged in response, “Find Eric, get some food, look for something to do.”
The nod was slow, deliberate as I followed him. Peeking out from the top of my glasses as he walked before me. Back straight, head up, pride. There was a lot of pride there and I admired him for being so sure of himself. He had come a long was as well, and I often picked on him for his lack of forethought, but he was my best friend along with Eric and no matter what, in the end we supported each other.
The sword at his side was barely perceivable under the coat, the slight bulge of the pummel was there for the trained eye to see. I caught myself transfixed on it as he turned, “Hurry up Annie, I’m hungry.” Looking up at his face again and once more nodded and moved quicker catching up to him, “I can tell you are comforted by the presence of the long pointy thing at your side.” He laughed, “Yes.”
We continued to walk at a quicker pace towards our temporary home, “Eric needs to find his purpose.” I said to Sean, “I think he feels lost.” Sean stopped and turned to me, reaching out to grab my arm and spoke in a low tone, “I worry, but don’t tell him, he drinks to much, he’s trying to hide his feelings in the bottle.” My gaze was connected to Sean’s, I thought for a moment he was joking but it was a serious look for him , “I know, it’s really disgusting, but who else is going to help him if we don’t. I was honestly thinking of making something to slip to him that makes alcoholic drinks taste like sewer shit.”
He laughed, hard, “Do it, I still owe him for the moss.” My eyes rolled into the back of my sockets as I sighed, “You two are going to end up killing each other.” We both laughed then and shoved each other on the arms as we started to walk again, “Maybe.” He said as I shook my head, “You both had a great laugh at my expense with the druid and the dagger.” His right hand reached up to rub at his chest. I bit my lip in response, holding back a grin, turning my head.
“You are so impetuous you just might.” My tone was dry, flat but he knew how to read the inflections as subtle as they were in tone. “You think too much. I can see it you know, there in those eyes of yours, always thinking of something.” My nose wrinkled up as I responded, “Thinking or remembering?” I asked him. “Both, and usually with a pen, and a book, and a journal, or whatever that thing is that you write in, I’ll find them all someday Annie.”
I was about to respond when a familiar voice was heard by us both and we looked forward, “Bout time you two got here, I am starving.” Sean and I looked at each other and in unison, “You are always hungry.” Our laughter echoed as we entered the inn.
Eric went over to our favorite table and we soon began to order food and drinks. Eric was always the quietest out of us all and he seemed to be invested in his own thoughts again, and his food. Sean tried to engage him in conversation. I soon lost interest and pulled out my journal. So much has changed and happened since we left the sewers, some good, some bad, but all of it interesting.
I remember Rose’s voice, and how she looked at me. I wanted to be her, like her, the moment I met her. Mysterious, intelligent, extraordinarily beautiful and a voice for the common person. She’s my heroine and I miss her every day. I know she is still alive, I can just feel it. Through the day when I decide, I often find myself asking what Rose would do. As time goes by though there is more of a thought “Would she approve?” and me making my own decisions. If she and Xander had not left us their wealth we would not be where we are now. Who knows where we would be, but certainly not where we are at this moment.
The plans of Bob and his rag tag crew of misfits and vagrants have been dealt with and the town is safe. I admit the death of Tywin, although part of my responsibility, was not planned. I hope that Marie can carry on without her sons. Elwin is on his way to prison with Bob, and by the look in his eyes at me telling him that Bob was responsible for the death of Tywin, his brother, well, I hope Bob gets what he deserves.
The thoughts of dropping the magical bomb on his legs still tickles the back of my thoughts, but…no honestly if I had been alone, he’d be a cripple now. The people that he has made suffer in the town and what he did to Tywin well, call it justice, but such as it is. He is now under the Queen’s Justice and I know the prisons are worse than the sewers in Lunshire.
Even with the thoughts of satisfaction of a job done, perhaps not well, but done, my mind wanders to that which is to come. I am weary, using all the spells I had and the stress of the battle of wills has left me exhausted and worried for Sean and Eric should something else pop up. What would they do without my spell craft as a backup? We are going to have to be careful about activity a while, until I can gain the strength I need to cast again.
We need to become a cohesive team again. There always seems to be the want or need for someone’s own wants and desires. I know this goes back to when we were in the sewers. It’s hard to break that pattern, “grab what you can, from anyone, to live.” We need to be more focused on each other and perhaps come to a consensus of what should be done or how it should be faced. I know that they both dislike my nose always in the books, but… a lot of the time I fear we are going to die, and that reality of it happening any moment has been something evident in our lives as of late.
We worked very well together this time, I hope it’s a sign of things to come, but if Eric doesn’t get his head out of his rear end we are going to have to come up with an intervention. I am not above making something to assist with that. I understand, well no, I don’t actually. WE came from the sewers we had nothing but each other, why is him walking away from the Druids so hard? We have done it all the time, it is confusing and frustrating, he has us, what else does he need? I mean we are going to go after this other place, to stop his shitty former leader.
“Annie.”
“ANNIE!”
My head jerked up again as I pushed my glasses up on my nose, “Hmm?”
“Are you done, have you been writing and not eaten again?” Eric asked me as he stared at my plate.
I pushed it over to him and nodded, “Not hungry really, wondering if this extra meal will take some of the edge of what you have been obviously drinking today, you stink of whiskey.” My tone was flat, unemotional, but I stared at him as his eyes went down to stare at the plate, he now had in front of him. I inhaled and sighed as I looked at Sean and shook my head, “I’m going to bed.”