Blue Valley Underground - Part 11 - Truth
Isaac should really mind his own business.
Blue Valley Underground - Part 11 - Truth
The room wasn't half as elaborate as the Newell hotel, but it was still a palace compared to Miss Krista's brothel. One room with a double-bed, a bathroom , electricity, and hot water. It was more than Isaac expected from a place like Greenhearst.
"I need a shower." Clara stated as soon as they entered, and she disappeared in the bathroom. Isaac dropped his knapsack and took a running start, leaping onto the bed.
It looked much softer than it was.
There was a loud, wooden 'clunk!' on impact. The soldier groaned and rolled on his back, catching his breath after knocking the wind out of himself. This bed was disguised like the luxurious one at the Newell hotel, when underneath it was just a wooden board covered with a five-inch mattress. He waited there until Clara left the bathroom. Her body was wrapped in a towel, her hair wrapped in another.
She sat on the bed beside him and he tensed, politely turning his head away. She seemed to notice and mentioned,
"My clothes are drying. You should wash too. You have that gross boy-stink."
"I do?" Isaac looked distressed as he buried his nose in his sleeve. He didn't smell anything unusual. Living at the barracks probably desensitized him to it, he figured, and hurried to the bathroom. Clara's dress, cardigan, panties, and socks were hanging on the shower curtain rod. Isaac was careful not to touch them as he eased into the tub and ran a bath.
After much paranoid scrubbing, Isaac left the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He left his clothes hanging beside Clara's and felt very uncouth being half-naked around a lady. He saw her still sitting on the middle of the bed, combing her fingers through her hair. It was nearly down to her knees. This was the first time he'd seen it out of a ponytail; he didn't realize it was so incredibly long. He gawked for a moment, until she looked up and gasped,
"Oh my God!"
Isaac jumped, tightening his grip on his towel,
"What?"
She pointed at him,
"What happened to you?" she asked, then squinted, "Or is that a tattoo?"
Isaac looked down and realized she was talking about the monstrous scar so lovingly bestowed upon him by that nymph. He'd already become used to it, like it had always been there. It was healing nicely, now just pink scars with some light scabbing.
"This is from the nymph I told you about," he explained, tracing his finger along one of the spirals, "The plants grew under my skin like this. I pulled one out and they all came up--see the pattern?"
Clara's jaw dropped slightly,
"You...Weren't bullshitting me, were you? That actually happened...?"
Isaac nodded,
"All of it happened. It's all true."
"The part with the butcher was fake though, right?"
"No. That definitely happened." He paled a bit when he thought about it. The girl chuckled,
"Wow. That's pretty fucked up." She shrugged, "I guess I can believe it."
Isaac dug through his bag and found his last apple from the Newell hotel. It was rather bruised, but he was rather hungry. Shoving it into his mouth sideways, he bit it roughly in half and offered one side to Clara.
"Thanks." She grinned and devoured it like she hadn't eaten in days. Judging by her frail body, that may have been the case. Her arms were nearly skeletal, her ribcage jutting out slightly below her collarbone. Her face was gaunt, her eyes dull and dark. Isaac couldn't pinpoint her ethnicity; her skin was several shades lighter than his, though not as light as a Noalender's. She had the narrow eyes of a Moorenock and the snub nose of an Ouisino.
"Can I ask a question?" Isaac sat down on the edge of the bed.
"You just did." She spoke over a full mouth.
"Where are you from?"
"The Capital. I've lived there my whole life."
Isaac paused, then asked,
"Where are your parents from?"
"I'm a Moorenock-Ouisino sandwich," Clara rolled her eyes, "If that's what you're getting at..."
"Oh. I thought so."
"What are you--a Midlander?"
"No! Serkelite."
"Same shit, they're both brown." She playfully nudged him with her foot.
Isaac's expression was grave,
"They're not the same at all! Serkelites are tall and--"
"God, settle down! It was a joke." Clara laid on her back, then shot back up when a coughing fit rattled her.
"Are you sick?" asked Isaac. The girl caught her breath and replied sluggishly,
"Not exactly. It's just--" she coughed one last time and pounded her fist on her chest, "I got really sick a few years ago. It never really got better."
"That's terrible..."
"No shit."
Clara laid back again, shimmying under the covers,
"What are you doing tomorrow?" she asked. Isaac's gaze wandered around the room and he sighed,
"I don't know. Try to earn a few coins for the train, I guess."
"Where are you going again?"
"Rivermere."
There was a long silence between them. Isaac eventually got up and extended a hand,
"Can I have one of those blankets?"
Clara's pulled the covers to her chin,
"Why?"
"So I can sleep on the floor. And that other pillow too, please?"
"Don't sleep on the floor!" the girl scooted to the far right of the mattress, "Here, there's lots of room."
Isaac shook his head,
"That's kinda...I mean, we're not really wearing clothes."
"So you'd rather sleep on the floor like a dog than sleep in the same bed as a girl?"
"It's disrespectful!" The soldier folded his arms, looking as authoritative as he could. Clara was unimpressed,
"You're joking..."
"Give me that pillow, please. I'm tired."
"No," the girl patted the space beside her, "How about you grow some balls and sleep next to the pretty girl--instead of treating her like she's a leper?"
"Clara..."
Isaac reached for the extra pillow and she snatched it before him, piling it on top of hers.
"Clara, come on!"
"Sleep in the bed and you'll get it back."
With a frustrated growl, Isaac waved a dismissive hand at her and laid down in the corner, curling up on the rough hardwood floor with his head resting on his knapsack.
"It sure is comfortable down here on this wood," he said scornfully, "I'm glad I don't have a blanket or anything!"
Clara rolled over and closed her eyes,
"I hope you get a splinter in your ass."
The soldier winced, trying not to move to prevent just that.
Twenty or so minutes passed. Isaac was exhausted enough to actually fall asleep there on the floor. He woke up to a quiet rustling and creaking floorboards, opening his tired eyes to see Clara lying on the ground beside him.
"What are you doing?" he groaned and sat up, wincing as a splinter dug into his thigh.
"If you won't sleep on the bed, then I won't either." She replied simply, lying on her back with her hands folded over her chest.
"Don't do this..." Isaac sighed, "You're gonna wake up all sore."
"So are you, so why does it matter?"
"You're a woman, Clara," Isaac furrowed his brow, "If I let you sleep on the floor, what kind of man would I be?"
"One that treated me like an actual person instead of some kind of...A glass angel or some shit!"
Propping herself on her elbow, she looked him in the eyes and said,
"You probably think you're being nice and chivalrous or whatever, but you're pissing me off. I'm no less a piece of garbage than you are. We can both wake up sore on the ground, or we can wake up in a bed like human beings. Your choice."
Isaac didn't know what to say for quite some time. Finally he asked,
"What's wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with you?" Clara sneered, "You get all bent out of shape about me buying this room for you, and now you won't even sleep in the bed because I'm in it? Is it because I'm ugly?"
"No, of course not!"
"Do you think I'll get you sick?"
"No!" the soldier leaned against the wall and strategically crossed his legs, "It's nothing like that, I promise. It's just that you're...A woman, so...I want to be polite. That's all."
"If I was a man, would you treat me like this? Like your dick might shrivel if I do something nice for you?" Her gaze was intense. Isaac floundered,
"Well...No, of course not."
Clara let out a deep sigh and rested her head on her arm,
"I'm either a cheap toy or a shiny fuckin' diamond, but I've never been a person before. I thought you might be different. Then again, my judgment's always been terrible."
There was an uncomfortable silence. Isaac wanted to speak, but what should he say? What could he say?
"Why did you really come to Greenhearst?" he asked. If prostitution was her 'work', her story was flimsy. There were horny men in every town. Clara didn't answer right away. Her voice cracked when she did,
"I lied to you, Isaac..." she sniffled and coughed, tears welling in her eyes, "You shouldn't have followed me. That was so stupid and short-sighted, I didn't think you were that dumb!"
Pausing to wipe her eyes, she explained,
"Those guys following me are agents of the Underground. They--"
"Wait," Isaac broke in, "What's that?"
"Are you serious?" she looked at him in disbelief, "Blue Valley Underground. It's a gang. A big gang; they have agents all over Noalen. I think their headquarters is in Newell, I don't know..."
Isaac suddenly paled,
"Oh...S-sorry, go on."
"Anyway, they...I think they killed my mom. Not that I care...But they raided our house earlier today. I got out the window and ran to the train station." The girl broke down, tears trailing down her face, "I wasn't trying to drag you into this! I actually like you--you're the first friend I've had since I was a kid!"
Isaac raised his eyebrows. He hardly knew her, and she considered him a friend? Clara stumbled on through quiet sobs,
"When you told me you followed me here, I was afraid the agents would think you were involved and kill you. I didn't want you to sleep outside where they could get you. So..." she sighed, "Now we're both fucked because of me. I'm sorry."
The soldier paused, then queried,
"What do they want with you?"
"I don't know! My stupid whore mother owes them money, and I think they're gonna kidnap me or something. They won't just kill me; they're gonna make coin off me somehow. I don't want to think about it." She clawed her bony fingers over her scalp and sniffled.
"I won't let them get you," Isaac told her confidently, "I'm a soldier, remember?"
She glared at him,
"You don't stand a fuckin' chance against one of those agents, much less two, or however many they have after me now. You don't realize how serious this is. I don't expect to live passed tomorrow, Isaac...And if I were you, I'd be watching my back from now on."
"Well," Isaac shrugged, "They'll still have to get through me to get to you. Even if they tear me apart, I won't make it easy for them...If that counts for anything."
Clara was silent, then asked,
"Why do you even care?"
"What do you mean?"
"About me," she explained, "What do you really want from me? Don't tell me you're just being nice because that's bullshit. You went completely out of your way for me, knowing you might have to fight off two burly assholes. Why?"
"I don't want anything from you." Isaac leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees,
"You asked me to protect you and I promised I would. I'm a soldier--that's my job."
She narrowed her eyes,
"Nobody's that noble. You're lying."
"I'm telling the truth!" Isaac grew frustrated and grunted, "Okay, being a soldier isn't my job. It's my life." He looked in her eyes and gestured to himself,
"This is all I know. Being a soldier is all I've ever known. I have no other skills--not even one! I can't even read for God's sake! And you know what? I'm not a very good soldier either. I prove that to myself every day."
Isaac reached for Clara's hand and grasped it tightly,
"Just let me have this, okay? Let me be a good soldier so that I can be a good person, and maybe for once I'll be proud of myself. Because when I go back to that barracks, my marshal is going to take this all away from me. He's going to kick me out of military, and then I'll be nothing."
A lost body.
Isaac released Clara's hand and leaned back against the wall, looking twice as exhausted as before.
"Then why go back at all?" She asked. He closed his eyes and sighed,
"A good soldier wouldn't commit treason. For once, I'm going to be a mature adult and own up to my mistake."
Clara nodded, silent for a while.
"So you didn't do this for me," she said, "You followed me for selfish reasons. To make yourself feel better."
Isaac shrugged lifelessly,
"I guess I did." He paused, then his eyes brightened,
"Clara...Come to Rivermere with me."
"What?"
"I can't protect you if I'm there and you're here. I know the head Chaplain--I bet he'll let you stay at the church 'till you find work."
"It doesn't matter where I go. Those agents would follow me all over Noalen," the girl frowned, her eyes groggy and red,
"Just be my friend tonight. That's all I want."
"Rivermere's a lot nicer than this place. Please?"
"Isaac," she growled, "I'm not bringing a bunch of pissed off Underground agents to your home!"
"I live at the barracks. If they mess with me, they're messing with a whole compound full of soldiers." Isaac replied blankly,
"If you really think they're gonna get you, then at least spend your last days in a place better than this."
With a heavy sigh, Clara slowly got to her feet,
"Fine. I think I have enough money for both of us. We can go tomorrow, if you're okay with a woman paying your way."
"It doesn't matter," Isaac smiled, "Thank you."
Clara yawned,
"I'm sleeping in that bed tonight. Are you ready to man up now?" she extended a hand to him and he hesitated. Finally he took it and allowed her to help him to his feet.
The hours passed, and Isaac didn't sleep for many of them. He was used to sleeping through the snoring of other soldiers, but Clara's coughing was so jarring; ragged and terrible. He watched her carefully as she had another fit, sure that she would suffocate this time. She finally woke, propping herself up on her elbows and hacking into her arm. Her towel dropped from her chest and Isaac turned away.
Just like that, the girl quieted and curled up again. She was asleep in seconds. Isaac sighed and pulled his pillow over his head. When he actually was asleep, he was having the same nightmare over and over: That he was a ghost who wandered Rivermere, screaming and grasping at people who couldn't hear his voice or feel his presence.
At the break of dawn, Isaac was drowsy but eager to be awake.
His clothes were still a bit damp, but he dressed anyway and headed out the door. Clara didn't even stir, staying asleep for several more hours. She lightly coughed and opened her eyes just as Isaac returned.
"Good morning." He greeted. He was holding a small green bag.
"Hey." Clara murmured and rubbed her eye.
"I got food," kneeling on the bed, Isaac set the bag on her lap. She realized it wasn't a bag at all, but a large leaf wrapped around something, "I already ate. This is for you."
Curiously, Clara unwrapped the leaf. She recoiled upon seeing a bundle of writhing earthworms.
"Very funny." She quickly folded the leaf and pushed it towards to Isaac. He just handed it back and explained,
"They won't hurt you, I promise. I've been eating these since my border mission, and I'm fine." He paused,
"Unless you have money for food too."
"No..." the girl muttered and picked up a worm, examining it closely.
"I washed them." Isaac added. Clara shrugged and popped it in her mouth. After some careful chewing, she decided,
"Tastes kinda like dirt."
"I know...The church in Rivermere will feed you. We should get going soon."
"You're right," Clara shoved the other worms in her mouth without hesitation, "Thanks."
Still chewing, she tossed the blankets aside and slid out of bed. Isaac tensed and fixated on the ground. Her towel was still lying on the bed and she didn't seem to care, walking unclothed to the bathroom.
Isaac couldn't help but steal a glance. What he saw wasn't pleasing like he anticipated; her legs were like sticks and her ribcage was visibly jutting out from her torso. As she turned to the side, he saw there was no womanly curve to her. She could have been mistaken for a young man. She was going to snap in half, he thought anxiously. He remembered a time when he was thin like that, when he outgrew the orphanage's rations as a young teen.
Clara walked out of the bathroom fully dressed, her long hair doubled up again. She picked up her giant bag with a grunt, legs quivering slightly.
"Let me get that." Isaac took it from her and slung it over his shoulder.
"I told you not to do special shit for me." Clara furrowed her brow.
"If another soldier was too exhausted to carry his weapon, I'd take it for him." Isaac replied. The bag was weightier than he thought,
"What's in here anyway?"
"Books."
"Books?"
"Yeah, I wrote them." Clara unbuttoned the bag and pulled out a worn journal. Handing it to Isaac, she told him,
"They're supposed to be for kids, but...Here, you can have one."
The cover was cheap pressboard, the binding flimsy. A drawing of a dragon was scrawled on with colored ink.
"I can have this? Are you sure?" Isaac asked as he flipped through the pages, many of them loose and falling out. There were handwritten words hastily scribbled across the paper with illustrations of dragons and knights sprinkled in.
Clara nodded,
"That one's called 'The Sunset Guardians'. It's about an ugly dragon that only comes out after dusk, and there's these knights that..." She trailed off and shook her head, "I don't know, it's pretty stupid. You can read it to your kids someday, maybe they'll like it."
Isaac closed the book and tucked it in his knapsack,
"Thank you, Clara. I will."
Isaac and Clara hurried to the train station, keeping an eye out for blue-clad agents on the way. They saw only the shabby residents of Greenhearst meandering between taverns and spitting in the street. Pooling Clara's money and Isaac's pittance of silver coins, they had enough for a ticket to Rivermere and two silver coins left over. They passed the stocks near the center of town. Isaac cringed when he saw Skinny still locked up in a pillory, wailing for freedom. He was still wearing Isaac's coat and a lawman was standing beside him.
"Ew, look at that guy," Clara wrinkled her nose, "I wonder what he did..."
Terrorized by guilt, Isaac groaned,
"He tried to steal from me yesterday. I kind of, uh...Broke his arm..."
Clara quickly turned to the soldier,
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. Ugh, hold on..." Isaac detoured towards him and Clara followed closely.
"You!" Skinny spotted Isaac, desperation on his face, "Y-you gotta get me outta here! Tell the lawman to let me out!"
Isaac shot a questioning glance at the blue-uniformed lawman, who just shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Skinny." Isaac apologized, then patted the vagrant's shoulder. He furtively dropped his two remaining silver coins in the coat pocket. Neither the lawman nor Skinny noticed, and with that, Isaac and Clara walked away.