Chapter 6

Nyx

Chapter 6

            Nyx stumbled into the market square. The stalls were cram packed with eager traders looking to get new goods from faraway lands. Her bandage had long since become soaked with her blood, and was now dripping onto the street, marking her passage with bright red ink. Mud and dirt mixed in with the scrapes on her face made her look almost like one of the forest monsters. The crown parted as she passed through it, no one wanting to get too close to the filthy girl. She limped mindlessly towards the Smith’s table, her vision blackening along the edges.

            The smith was at his table, calling out his wares to the market patrons in a rich loud voice. A few people would cast glances over at his table, but would move on when they noticed his wings. Vale was a city of discrimination, where humans looked down their noses at the faunus minority. Some would ignore the faunus; others would go to great lengths to cause the faunus strife.

            Nyx stumbled up to the table, leaning on it and trying to catch her breath. “S-Sorry I’m la… late… forest was…” She must have collapsed, because the next thing she knew, the Smith was rushing to his tent, with her in his arms. He was saying something, screaming at her and shaking her. Nyx drowsily blinked at him, wondering what he was saying. She began to drift off despite his yelling. She tried to tell him to stop shaking her, but the words came out as an unidentifiable jumble of sounds. The darkness at the edges of her vision closed in, and Nyx begin to drift off. In the corner of her vision, she could barely see the smith pull a hand back and- SLAP!!!

            Stars exploded past her eyes as she was cruelly ripped from the grasp of slumber. Her vision righted itself, and the she was able to make out what the smith was yelling at her.
            “WAKE UP! THIS IS NO TIME TO SLEEP. KEEP LOOKING AT ME!” Nyx stared at the smith. She was lying down on a bench inside the tent, while the smith rushed around his humble abode. A gross scent wafted around as he brewed some sort of vile tea, constantly checking to see if she was awake.

            A short while later the smith held the tea to her mouth. “Drink.” He said in a tone that offered no room for argument. She opened her mouth and gagged as the vile liquid slid down her throat. The smith held her chin, making her drink the rest. He pulled away as she coughed and sputtered, feeling like she was going to throw up.

            “That will help with the blood loss, now sit up and tell me everything.” She didn’t have much of a choice with him pulling her into a sitting position. While the tea had tasted rancid, it did help wake her up a bit. She told him of the fight with the Ursa as he removed the blood soaked bandage on her hand.

            “And then I rolled forward and-”

            “Bite down.”

            “Wha-?” The smith scrubbed her wounds with an alcohol soaked rag, ignoring the high pitched scream of pain coming from Nyx. She struggled against him, trying to pull her hand away. The smith released her hand and slammed a cleaver into the wood bench next to her causing her to jump.

            “Either I scrub, or I cut it off. It will become infected you foolish hatchling.” The smith just sat there waiting. Nyx eyed the cleaver nervously and meekly offered her hand back to him, wincing as he once again scrubbed her wounds raw. Once the smith was content with his handiwork, he rubbed some green paste on the wounds and bound the hand tightly in fresh linen gauze. While he checked over the rest of her injuries, she continued her story.

            “I was going to stab it in the neck, but it shifted and my dagger…” She looked down sadly. “My dagger shattered in my hand…”

            “You were fighting with bad steel.” He picked up her last remaining dagger in both hands and snapped it in half as if it were nothing but a twig. Nyx looked up at him with horror, tears coming to her eyes.

            “Th-that was mine…” The smith raised an eyebrow at her.

            “Better it breaks in here than when you are fighting a baby Ursa.”

            Nyx was shocked, that monster was huge. “Baby! It was bigger than a car!”

            “Exactly. Full grown Ursa’s are much larger than that. Did you collect anything from its corpse?” Nyx nodded, pointing at her bags.

            “I have its teeth and claws.”

            The smith nodded in satisfaction. “Good, take those and go get yourself new weapons and clothes tomorrow.” He walked around her, inspecting her face, wings, and legs. “You have a sprained ankle and a ripped muscle in your wing. No flying.” Nyx opened her mouth to protest, but a hard look from the smith made her close her mouth.

            “No flying, that’s final.” The smith sighed, sitting down next to her. “You are just like my daughter back home. Always getting into fights you aren’t ready for. Patience Hatchling, running into battle will get you killed… You will sleep here tonight. I will not have you limping through the forest at night while injured.” Nyx slumped down, depressed. “Tomorrow, you can work the stall all day while I create your feather blades.” Nyx perked up at this, a wide smile coming to her face.

The smith pulled out a small folding cot and a spare blanket. “Sleep here. If you need me, I’ll be in the next room.” The smith strode from the room, closing the curtain between the common area and his private chambers. Nyx climbed into the cot, wondering how she would explain her absence to her friends, before drifting off into a dreamless slumber.