Guns of Legend: Chapter Two
Chapter Two
"Are you absolutely sure about
this, Adlis?" Za asked, his voice muffled by his ornately decorated mask. He stood stiffly, his thick black coat moving
slightly in the dry, hot breeze. He
flexed his right hand in agitation, the glove that adorned it groaning softly
from the strain.
"Of course not," Adlis replied,
shifting uncomfortably under the passing glances of the residents. Everdry was a poor community, so the sight of
a lavish dress like hers was bound to catch every eye in town. The young zik girl was convinced she could
feel every awkward stare as it traced her figure through the scarlet satin
dress. Her ears began to change from the
light brown of the rest of her fur to an embarrassing shade of white, and she
resisted the urge to clamp her hands over them and hide them from view.
There's nothing to be worried
about, she'd told herself over and over again.
If these people can abide living with a known Twister, they wouldn't
spare her abnormality a second glance... right?
She knew Za could sense her
discomfort. She felt bad for him. Simmk were rarely welcome in heavily
populated areas because of their need to cover every inch of their body. It tended to give people the wrong idea, as
if they were trying to hide their identity.
Adlis could tell he wasn't any more at ease than she was by the way he
kept reaching into his water pouch to flick water into the lidless eyes behind
his mask. He didn't want to let his eyes
dry out for fear of missing something important.
Amazingly, though, the citizens of
Everdry seemed more impressed with Adlis' dress than her ears or Za's
clothing. She couldn't blame them, she
decided. Most of them, be they zik,
toola, fuaro, or zashni, were dressed in little more than rags, and the
recognizable clothes she saw were usually the black pants and blue shirt of a
Deputy. These people were on hard times,
she thought, and they were unlikely to get better. One did not name a city "Everdry" because it
had an overabundance of water.
"That's him, right?" Za spoke up,
motioning towards a zik that had was slowly making his way into the town. He was gray furred and wore no shirt, though
the light tan of his pants were enough to identify him as a Ranger. Scars crisscrossed his torso in several
places, and his dark brown eyes gleamed with bitter determination. What's more, he carried the repulsiveness of
a Dreadwave, which could only mean he was a Twister.
"Yes, that's him," Adlis
confirmed. "Let's go talk to him."
"Couldn't we wait a bit?" Za
protested. "I really don't want to go
near him right now."
"That's just the Dreadwave. Try not to pay attention to it. Come on!"
The girl set of after the shirtless
zik at a brisk pace, but found herself slowing down the closer she got to
him. He had stopped at a nearby water
pump and was taking a drink. Adlis came
within five paces of him and felt her feet become rooted to the ground. Despite what she had said to Za, she wasn't
sure she could bring herself to come this close to someone with a
Dreadwave. Even this far away, his mere
presence was making her skin crawl. He
must have Twisted just a few hours ago.
"E-excuse me," she said in a timid
voice. If she couldn't come closer to
him, she'd have to bring him over to her.
But her voice came out as a frightened whisper, not even reaching the
other zik's ears.
"Kulgan!" a distressed woman's rang
out. A female fuaro, no more than
thirty, came running up to the zik, completely ignoring the Dreadwave. Her cream colored fur reflected the sun
brightly, and her six foot long tail dragged in the sand behind her in her
haste. "Kulgan, did you find him? Tell me you found him!"
The zik did not turn to look at
her, but took another long gulp of water.
"I followed the trail as far as I could," He answered in a calm, even
voice. "It led me straight into a
sandgoyle pack's nesting grounds."
"Do... do you think the sandgoyles
took him, then?" the fuaro asked in
shock. Adlis could not help being
impressed. Whatever was going on, the
young fuaro woman seemed desperate enough to have answers that the Dreadwave
that radiated from the zik did not seem to affect her.
"No, sandgoyles would never come
this close to town just for a child," Kulgan answered. "Whatever got him just went through their
land. The question is how did it manage
to do that without waking the goyles? And
with a squealing child in tow, no less?"
"Vikka does not squeal!" the fuaro
declared. "Where is my son?"
Kulgan sighed and finally turned to
look at her, "He's gone. I'm sorry,
Kilo."
The fuaro covered her mouth with
her hands, choking on her own breath.
Her large black eyes widened even further in despair, and with an
anguished sob she turned and ran from the zik as quickly as her paws could
carry her. Kulgan watched her go for a
moment, then sighed again and returned to the pump. The other villagers who had gathered around
to watch muttered in sympathy for the poor woman, and returned to their lives.
Working up her courage, Adlis
called out once more, "Excuse me, Mr. Kulgan?"
The zik stood up and turned to look
at her. He was young, she realized. A couple of years older than her own
eighteen, at the most. Yet he carried
himself with the weight of a lifetime that most people thrice his age did not know. "Yes?" he asked.
Once again, though, Adlis found
herself frozen by the strength of the Dreadwave. The zik huffed in his throat, though she
couldn't tell whether it was in amusement or annoyance.
"You're not from around here, are
you?" he asked.
"I-is it the dress?" Adlis
stuttered, having trouble forming coherent thoughts in her head.
"Not really," Kulgan answered. "It's the fact that your tail is tucked into the
dress. Zik women around here can't
afford dresses large enough to do that."
"You were looking for my tail?"
Adlis demanded, momentarily forgetting the Dreadwave. It was true, though. It was considered proper for zik women to
hide their tails under their clothing for everyone except their husbands. The fact that the ziks of Everdry were unable
to do so did not reflect badly on them, but it did display their social status
for all to see.
A sly grin crept across Kulgan's
face, "It's not every day that pretty woman like yourself comes to town," he
said. "What'd you expect me to look at?"
Adlis' eyes bulged with fury, and
she was on the verge of storming away when Kulgan spoke again, "Now that we've
managed to get the Dreadwave out of your mind, what do you want?"
Adlis froze as she realized that
she had, indeed, forgotten about the Dreadwave in her anger. The moment she thought about it, though, it
suddenly came rushing back to her, and she wanted desperately to make distance
between herself and this Twister.
"You must have some sort of
problem, I'm guessing," Kulgan went on. "We're
too far away from any city that could provide such a pretty dress for you to
have just wandered in here by accident.
You came looking for me."
For a moment, Adlis was at a
complete loss for words as the Dreadwave assaulted her mind. She knew that this zik looked just like any
other zik she could find at home, but the Dreadwave insisted that he was the
most hideous, unnatural thing she had ever laid eyes on. Just as she thought she was going to have to
turn and run, she felt a comforting hand alight on her shoulder. Turning to look, she saw Za standing behind
her.
"Is the simmk with you too?" Kulgan
asked. "What happened to his tail?"
Za reflexively reached for the
stump at the base of his back where his tail had once been, his yellow eyes
widening with embarrassment under his mask.
"Is someone's tail always the first
thing you look at?" Adlis shot back, suddenly finding her tongue again.
"I don't know how many simmk you've
been around, ma'am, but their tails are a little hard to miss. Pardon me for noticing the obvious."
Adlis felt her the fur on her ears
turn red with rage at the ranger's rudeness.
His eyes flicked upwards to look at them, and for the first time Adlis
saw genuine interest appear in his eyes.
This time, she did clamp her hands over them.
"Well, we're not getting anywhere
right now," Kulgan conceded. "Come find
me in a couple hours, and the Dreadwave should be weak enough that you'll be
able to speak to me. Farewell." With that, he flicked his fingers in goodbye
and strode away, pulling a hip flask out of his belt and taking a long swig.
"Well," Za said, "that went well."