Homecoming
#1 of Writing Prompts
I recently joined a telegram writing group, it's a fun place to discuss writing and how to approach it. This is a story I made for this week's writing challenge. If you'd like to join us, here's the link https://t.me/joinchat/CPoeZhclggenrOEh0yYwvg
This week's challenge was about bullies, so here's my take on it.
I walked down the dirt road, my eyes carefully checking the narrow alleys and avoiding the starving kids that would try to get some of my money. The bazaar had never been one of the better parts of Nueva Corinto, the ridiculous laws forbidding every non-human from getting a decent job only helped cement the hold of the criminal elements in the city. No one was going to speak out against the gang that sold drugs at the end of the road, when the very same gang would pay the guard to look the other way and let the tired worked get some dreams in a bottle. The years away didn't help in ignoring the strong odor of unwashed bodies and rotting flesh that seemed to come from the very earth. I kept to the right side of the road, near the shadows as I guided my friends to the best magic store I knew, or at least, the only one that wouldn't charge us six times the price for a simple healing potion.
A flash of red scales at the edge of my vision told me Araragi was doing another one of his shows, the young kobold releasing mournful tones from his black violin as he led the rest of the group. A quiet yip came from behind me followed by a low growl, no doubt someone had gotten too close to Vox again, and his wolf had felt the need to protect his little troll companion. Soon we had reached our goal, an old tent that had seen better days, its faded blue and red colors made it stand out in t the sea of shacks and wooden kiosks that formed the bazaar, but it could hardly be called an upgrade. As I entered the place, the first thing that I noticed was the strong sandalwood smell that came from the counter at the, where a lone purple devil, barely 70cm tall and covered in plain robes stood. He gave us a chilling smile, fake but exceedingly polite as we entered, while guards came out of the shadows to flank us.
"Krusk, is that you?" said a raspy voice to my right. The dim light inside the tent made it hard to notice the origin of the voice, with only a silhoullete of an armored figure close to 2 meters tall. I was instantly on guard, one hand discreetly gathering magic and the other coming closer to my knife, knees bending slowly in preparation for a fight. I blinked twice to force my eyes to adapt to the light and assess my posible enemy. He was an orc, taller than me by at least 6cm and quite a few pounds heavier even without his noisy chainmail. Two yelowish tusks came from his mandible, stading out in a sea of dark green, curly black hair fell over his shoulders and a pair of familiar gray eyes looked at mine with hope and surprise.
"Krusk, it's really you! Where were you?" He took a few steps closer, his face tinting in the yellow light that filled the tent, his right hand dropping the mace at this side.
"Here and there. Wherever I could find some work" I replied curtly, slowly angling towards the exit. I wasn't ready for this, least of all with him.
"You finally came back. When did you plan of telling us you were here?" he slowly lifted his hands, just like he would do when he dealt with a frightened dog, a fake smile on his face.
"I didn't, brother. If it were up to me, I wouldn't be here" By now we had the attention of every being in the tent, just like he had planned. Araragi was giving me a questioning look while Vox's eyes, though more focused now, were starting to fill with anxiety.
"That hurts brother" he said, hiding most of his fangs in a sign of shame and submission. "Mom misses you, and so does Grea"
Flashes of memories came to my mind at the mention of my sister, days spend looking for hidden pranks, nights filled with her conjured terrors and her nightmarish laugh. I bared my tusks in challenge, a slight cloud of condensation forming near my hand announcing the readiness of my spell. "I write to mom whenever I can brother. She's the only one that matter in this rotten city."
"I know we haven't always seen eye to eyes, brother, but you need to come home" he pleaded, a whine softly coming out of his throat, unusual, but not enough to make me lower my guard. " Please Krusk, I beg you."
"I'll consider it, maybe next year. But I'm too busy right now, unlike you" I told him, forcing my body to relax as I finally was a jump away from freedom. A sardonic smile making its way to my face "I'm sure you can survive another year."
I turned to leave, certain that I wouldn't be able to keep the civil act for much longer. My leather armor suddenly feeling like rough iron as I neared the flaps, a hand extended towards the fabric. Then I felt a pull, reflexes spun into actions, wrist rotating to free myself from the hold and my hand shooting to grab the offending limb, but instead of the tough skin borne from years of training, there was a scaly texture to his skin, and a quick look confirmed the crocodile skin rising from his wrist up to my hand, I quickly let go of him as he pulled his arm behind him, nervous eyes shooting a quick glance to his co worker.
"Krusk, you really_need to come home" in that moment, his eyes screamed of doom and despair, emotions that I had wanted to see for so long, but now, now it only made me numb, my mind resonating with one fatalistic thought;_He has the plague