Chapter 2: The Boy and The Well

Chapter 2:  The Boy and The Well

The streets of Raseri were buzzing with rumors.  An unfortunate milkmaid had found the body of Lord Diméark that morning.  Since then, everyone had been willing to give his two cents on the subject.

The only person who knew the truth strode the streets confidently, a crooked smile on her lips.  She laughed gently to herself as she snatched bits of the talk from passerbys.  A few shrewd people watched her suspiciously, knowing what the red streaks in her blond hair meant.  She had just left the home of Lady Diméark, the sack at her waist now full of coins and bills.

She walked into the nearest tavern, silence filling the room as they realized who she was.  The quiet was quickly replaced with more talk then there had been before.  Flick overheard a man nearby, who appeared to be a poor whisperer.  “She streaks her hair with the blood of her victims.”

‘Let them think what they want,’ Flick thought to herself, ‘They can’t prove anything.’

“Just water,” she said aloud to the bartender, whom already had a glass prepared for her.  She came here often.

Just as she had got herself comfortable on the stool, three men entered the room.  They were all young, early to mid-twenties, and Flick knew two of them who lived in Raseri.  She assumed the other was an out-of-town friend.  They sat at a table near her stool and each ordered a beer.  Flick watched them from the corner of her eye.  The two boys from town were looking at her cautiously and as they began to talk, she could tell it was about her “job.”  Their friend seemed unimpressed, or just unbelieving, that she was an assassin.

She turned her back to them, putting her complete attention to her water.  Soon came the tap on her shoulder she had been expecting.  She turned to find the out-of-towner smiling at her.  She cast a swift glance to his Raserian friends who were smirking expectantly.  ‘What bet did they make?’ she wondered.

“Hello,” the boy smiled, sitting next to her, “Couldn’t help but notice you.  My name’s Widem.  What’s yours?”

“Flick,” she answered curtly, turning back to her water.

“Interesting name,” Widem said, still grinning, “I like your hair.”

Flick said nothing.  She didn’t really like talking to people, unless she was about to kill them.

“You want me to buy you a drink?” he asked.

“I don’t drink,” she said plainly.

“Why not?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, “Surely you’re of age.”

“I am,” she answered, “but I am also strong.  Only those with weaknesses to hide, drink.”

Widem let go of the cup he was holding and gently shunted it away.

“So…” he nodded, expecting her to say something, “Why do you wear that mask?”

“Why do you wear those clothes?” she answered with a question.

“I can’t very well walk around naked,” he said, a little surprised at her question.

“You wear your clothes to hide your body, I wear my mask to hide my face.”

He stared at her a moment, confused.  He looked over at his friends, who urged him on, then smiled at Flick.

“Do you ever take it off?” he asked cautiously.

“Not for mortal eyes to see.”

“What if I said I were immortal?” he smiled.

“Then not for human eyes to see,” she answered, her voice distant.

“Ah, please,” he urged her, “Just a little peek.”

“No,” she answered sharply.

“Oh, come on.”

He suddenly reached out, trying to grab the side of her mask.  Swiftly, almost instinctively, she pushed his hand away, stood up, and unsheathed one of her blades.  Every face turned to see the action.

“Try that again,” she stated matter-a-factly, “and you’ll regret it.”

Widem hesitated a moment, thinking.  Then he reached out again saying, “Just a look.”

With a flash of silver, Flick’s saber rushed at the approaching hand.  Flecks of crimson flew through the air as Widem cried out in pain.  He grasped his hand, now with a long gash on the palm, and looked up at her with surprise.

“I warned you,” she scolded with the air of a mother to a naughty child, “Next time listen to me.”

She replaced her sword into its case and downed her water.  After placing a coin on the counter, she left.

Widem stared aghast at her retreating figure, still clutching his injured hand.  His friends came up to him, laughing and slapping him on the back.  They, too, knew Flick’s nature.

Flick didn’t stay too long in Raseri.  She never stayed anyplace long.  Her home was untrammeled paths, her family the wind, earth, and sky.  She was concerned with no one but herself.

She left the town early one morning, with nothing but her bag of coins, two small blades, and the clothes on her back.  The streaks of red were gone now, having served their purpose.  What that purpose was was her secret.  No sooner had she reached the town limits, however, she saw someone else.  Someone who apparently didn’t wish to be seen.

“Well, well,” she smiled to herself, “Our loyal town banker.  What’s he up to so early in the morning?”

She followed silently behind him, spying being her favorite hobby.  She followed him to an old well, past the edge of town.  This well was empty, so naturally her curiosity rose.  The banker reached the well, then looked around cautiously.  He didn’t see Flick, hidden well in nearby bushes.  He then pulled out a sack and poured the contents in the well.  Flick could hear the clinking of coins.

After emptying the sack, the banker left hurriedly.  Flick came out of her hiding spot.  She went up to the well and looked down.  Although she saw nothing but blackness, she knew there was money down there.  Embezzled money.

“Too bad I don’t have a partner,” she sighed, “Then I could be a much richer woman.”

With a shrug of her shoulders, she left, back into the forest.

~*~*~

A/N:  Sorry I didn’t stick this chapter up sooner, and sorry it’s so short.  I’d like to say I didn’t have time, but it was just laziness.  A bit of a note; I wrote this story a while ago and would like to think I have improved some since then.  But I’m too lazy to go back and redo it. *sigh*  Sorry.  Well, thanks to those who have reviewed!

            Be excellent to each other!

            -Ady