Valenosis

Nanya opened her eyes to the thin wisps of pink sunshine creeping into the small window.  The pastel rays tentatively crawled over her, as if afraid to fully awaken and reveal their true potential. Outside, a bird sang in sweet melody as a soft breeze twirled in through the opening. She turned away from the window and back to the floorboards she was lying on, scratching her back from the rough straw bedding. As the sun rose higher, she retreated to the dark recess of the cramped room and crouched down. She glared at it, daring the light to turn into torrential rain. It did not.

            A low mewl made her attention shift to the girl lying in the awakening sun.

            Her dull black hair was splayed across the pillow�"a patched cloak�"and she was curled into a frail ball. Another contented sigh came from her puckered lips as the girl moved restlessly.

            “Amalia, get up.”

            Amalia rolled over and shoved her head under the dirty cloak. “Don’t wanna.”

            Nanya stood up on the creaking boards and walked over to her sister, trying to avoid the sun. She yanked off the threadbare fabric and glared down at the squinting girl.

            “I said get up. It’s only a matter of time before we’re found. Move. Now!”

            Amalia continued to bask in the rising sun before Nanya grabbed her sister around the wrist and pulled her upright. She shoved Amalia’s hand in her face, the hazel eyes going cross-eyed.

            “See this? Do you not value your hand? Because if you don’t, be my guest and get caught trespassing.”

            Amalia’s eyes filled with tears but Nanya continued to speak, disgust twisting her face. “They aint afraid to cut the hand off a street waif. Fact is they might enjoy all the blood and bones and the screaming coming from your lil’ mouth.” She turned around, her features contorting. “Let’s go find mother.”

            Nanya opened the screeching grate, wincing with each scraping sound. She climbed down the ladder, deftly ducking behind a mildly drunk man when the owner of the Cold Sword Pub suspiciously glanced her way. Amalia followed suit.

            The two sisters snuck out the door, hiding behind people and tables to avoid the bartender’s scrutiny.

            When they had stepped into the sunlight, Nanya winced.

            She hated the sun. It was to….to happy.

            Ever since their father, Tanire had died in a fatal boating accident, the family went from poor to destitute.

            The two girls traveled around, trying to find food and shelter while their mother lounged in the comforts of…Nanya blanched as she thought about it…a whorehouse.

            The money she earned did not go to the girls but to ivoryweed, an addictive plant found in the upper regions of the Torian Mountains. The white leaves left milky eyes, a bloody tongue and a feeling of euphoria. Very hard to come by and unfortunately, very expensive.

            As they walked down the cracking, cobbled streets of the Remnant, Nanya held back the tears that began to well up and push themselves over. She hated treating her baby sister this way but if she didn’t, they would still be at the pub and fighting the angry owner, trying to get free. If she was submissive to her sister’s needs, they would be dead.

            I must be strong, she thought.

            A lone tear trickled down her grimy cheek but she angrily brushed it away. Father said I must be strong. I must protect my family.

            It was hard.

            Real hard.

            Amalia was stubborn and willful while their mother pretended the girls didn’t even exist.

            When Tanire died, Leetam changed from a kind parent to an angry, hate-filled woman. She blamed Nanya for her husband’s death because the girl had urged her father to go on the fishing trip which had killed him.

            Nanya blamed herself as well.

            “Nya, I’m hungry.”

            Nanya looked up from her trance-like walk and into her sister’s wide eyes. “I know hun but you know we have to wait until dark. It is too much of a risk to steal in bold daylight.” She thought about the last time she attempted to snatch a couple of barley rolls. She was skilled but it did not work out so well. 

            Amalia’s features formed an exaggerated pout but Nanya felt the same way. Hunger pangs began to plague her stomach as her intestines felt like they were twisting inside out. She stepped out of the sun and into a wooden building.

            “Mum might be in here…Wait outside.”

            She didn’t want her young sister seeing what went on in the whorehouses. It’s bad enough that I have to, she thought and blanched again.

            The interior was dark, lit only by the meager light of lanterns. Tables were carelessly scattered around, filled with chatting people and the windows were curtained in black. More black material hung from rods, dividing the main room into many smaller, private rooms. The sounds coming from the rooms were disgusting.

            Nanya walked over to a heavily powdered lady and coughed. “Um…have you seen Leetam?” She nervously glanced at the curtained rooms.

            “Oh honey, Leetam isn’t here. I believe she is over at Savona’s.”

            “All right. Thank you.”

            “No problem dear. Would you like some meat buns?”

            Nanya’s face lit up as she thought about the soft bread and pork sandwiches. “Yes please. Amalia is starving.” Me too.

            The lady handed over a napkin filled with the buns and Nanya rushed out, gagging at the scent of overdosed, cheap perfume and ivoryweed.

            Amalia was sitting on the top step and staring up at the now cloudy sky. Nanya bent down next to her sister, opened the napkin and her mouth instantly began to water as the sweet smell of warm pork wafted into her nose.

            “For real?”

            Nanya laughed gaily. “For real. Eat up Mali.”

            They each grabbed two meat buns and hungrily stuffed them into their mouths. The soft, doughy bread melted instantly and the pork was tender and honeyed.

            Amalia rolled her eyes as the delicious food traveled down her stomach, warming it immediately. She moaned, grinning.

            Nanya giggled as she felt the cramps subside and her stomach actually felt full.

            “So where’s mamma?”

            She stood up, grabbed Amalia’s hand and began to run, laughing. “We’ll worry about that later.”

            “Where are we going?”

            “You’ll see!”  

 

 ♦ • ♦ • ♦

 

            Nanya lay beneath the tree with her arms beneath her head, staring up at the large branches and cloudy sky. Amalia lay next to her, curled up in a sleeping ball and softly snoring in comfort.

            Nanya happily closed her eyes, thankful for the food in her once gaping stomach. She relished the weighted feeling in her body and smiled, curling her body around her sister’s.

            Father said I must be strong. I must protect my family.

            She opened her eyes and stared down at her tiny sister, hope trickling into her mind. I’m sorry, she wanted to tell Amalia. I wish you had luxurious like you deserve. I’m doing the best I can for you.

            Nanya wrapped her arms around the girl protectively and closed her eyes, falling into a deep sleep.

 

♦ • ♦ • ♦

            When Nanya awoke, the moon met her gaze. Amalia was still curled up in her arms, thumb in her mouth.

            She looked upwards as the glowing orb seemed to call to her. Beware, it seemed to say. You will die.

            A murky cloud rolled in to block the disturbing sight but it was roughly pushed away by the halos of white luminescence. The moon kept talking.

            Things will change. You will die. You will die. YouwilldieYouwilldieYouwilldie.

            It seemed to be coming down at her, ready to attack and kill her itself. Nanya held up her arms to shield away the onslaught but it kept coming, creeping in.

            Die, it hissed.

            She awoke, screaming.

            Amalia was staring down at her sister. “Nya, are you okay?” Her small brows comically drooped down over frightened eyes and her lips curled into a pathetic frown.

            Nanya couldn’t help it. She began to laugh as relief thudded into her. “I’m all right. It was just a dream.”

            She stood up, dragging Amalia with her, suddenly alert.

            Amalia was just as aware, realizing the hour it was.

            “We have to go,” Nanya hissed.

            Amalia just vigorously nodded her head.

            When the moon had risen to its full height, the Remnant awakened from its deep sleep, rose up and revealed its true, magnanimous power.

            Gangs roamed the Remnant at night, finding other gangs, fighting other gangs and killing all those they wished. The black phantoms of desperate people would do anything, even to a small child like Amalia.

            The two began to run hand in hand. They softly yet rapidly padded down the cobbled streets, silently praying to the Gods of Life that no gangs were out yet.

            I never believed in the tales, Nanya thought as she abruptly stopped. The prayers never come true.

            The girls were in an alleyway. Six towering figures with faceless masks blocked the path they were taking.

            Nanya whirled around, her heart beginning to violently thud. Another dark silhouette obstructed that exit. They were trapped.

            “Who are you?” she hollered at them, trying to keep her voice from wavering. Amalia whimpered and clutched her hand tighter.

            One figure stood away from the other five and began to walk toward her. “We are the Dark Immortals. And you are?”

            Nanya’s mouth gaped at the name. The Dark Immortals were notorious for their skills, their violence and their torture. They were aptly named, for many could not kill the dark shadows that prowled the streets of the Remnant at night. She had once been a member in the earlier days of their destitution before quitting, barely saving her life.

            “I’m Lizta.” Nanya did not them her name for fear of recognition. “This is Vatina.”

            The shadow became definable and Nanya bit down a look of fear.

            It was the leader, Sobeisis.

            The older boy was handsome for living a life of poverty and brutality. His sharp, keen eyes saw many things others did not. His thin mouth was twisted into a cruel sneer at the two girls, alone, and his hair was a black mess of jutting spikes.

            He stared at them, cocking his head to the side and Nanya feared recognition. She got it.

            “Hello Nya,” he whispered huskily.

            Nanya growled deep within her throat. “Only my friends call me that you traitor.” Painful memories washed through her.

            Sobeisis and Nanya had once shared a confusing romance. One night, they were stalking the streets for resources when they ran into another gang. Nanya and another of the Dark Immortals were captured but a truce was made. One could go free.

            Yulia was chosen.   

            “Sorry,” she remembered Sobeisis muttering. “It’s just that she’s got more skills then you.”

            Nanya managed to escape but not before earning a deep gash which tore apart her thigh. The scar began to tingle at the thought. She had almost died.

            Sobeisis frowned. “We had something once. What’s to stop us from having it again?”

            Nanya grit her teeth in anger. “You left me to die because I wasn’t as skilled as Yulia,” she spat. “You’re just a two-face b*****d.”

            Sobeisis’ handsome face contorted with anger and he whirled around the face the five faceless people behind him. “What shall we do with this…” He turned to face her again. “…this dishlo.”  

            Nanya spat in his face, her rage spiking. “No one calls me a shallow w***e!”

            Sobeisis’ face darkened in anger and he lunged at her, fists raised.

            Bring it on, she thought. What the boy didn’t know was the knife hidden within her boot.

            As Sobeisis lept at her and swung a clenched fist, Nanya ducked and snatched the four inches of cold steel from her mid-calf length boot. She grasped the ivory hilt and plunged the knife, a gift from her father, deeply into his leg. She twisted the blade before tugging it out, sticky with blood.

            Sobeisis screamed in pain and fury as the thick red liquid poured down his thigh. He ran at her again but collapsed while the five other Immortals shot at her.

            Nanya grabbed Amalia’s hand and lurched in the other direction. The lone silhouette jerked around, confused before he finally ran at the two girls. The older girl gripped the double-edged knife while Amalia tried to stop.

            The three of them collided and Amalia screamed, the force jarring her backwards. Nanya thrust her hand forward and up, plunging the knife into the man’s throat. She gripped her sister’s hand tighter and stepped over the crumpled, gurgling frame. Absentmindedly, she looked down and began to shake.

            It was Vethos, the man who had trained her.

            Nanya wanted to stop and hold the person who had been like a father to her but she continued to run. Amalia was crying and lagging behind but Nanya continued to drag her along, breathlessly urging her to run faster.

            Minutes passed before they ducked into a small tavern and the Dark Immortals dashed past. Sobeisis, Vethos and another were missing.

            The two girls sunk down into chairs and Nanya wrapped her arms around her head, lying down on the table.

            I must be strong.

            She began to cry with choking, heaving sobs while Amalia awkwardly patted her back.

            Nanya looked up at her sister as nausea swirled in her gut. “I…I killed someone,” she whispered, her eyes wide in fright.

            The tavern was dark, lit only by small candles and the full moon was streaming in from the narrow windows. Patrons sat at the bar, chatting to a bartender but no one else was in the room.

            Amalia looked at the other people before turning to her sister, eyes glinting in the meager light. “You saved us.”

            Nanya let her head fall on the table, her shoulders shaking. “I know. I know.”

Reviews

[Eddie Davis]

Well, another very well done chapter in what is appearing to be a very dark and troubled world. Very gritty and grim, you are building each new character up, very well, they each have distinct personalities. Good job.