O child, didn’t you know?
You mourned as you left your mother’s womb.
Such is why all babies cry,
As they’re thrown into their earthly tombs.

Child, know better,
The reasons they tell you no.
It’s because of their wisdom that you follow their say so.
Listen to those voices,
And listen very well.
When they finally fall silent,
You will not be well.

Your life will break apart,
As it crumbles and shambles.
All those years of being told what to do,
You’ve finally realized what you knew.

A simple puppet made from flesh to be molded by desire.
If you lose all hope for yourself then by all means,

Jump into the fire.

By the light sheds your mortal coil,
Yet vengeance burns with hope and sorrow.
“My family, my mother,” seethes through clenched teeth,
“There will be a tomorrow, gods hear my plea!”
Blood boils and coils and burns with might,
With memories come wisdom to learn and give insight.

By laughter and love hope ripples from the past,
Even from the ones that have had their chance,
To the dearly departed that did not last,
The mortal shell beckons its soul back.

Scream along with the klaxons of depair,
Because in your mind’s eye they certainly detail,
Of a mortal’s bloody struggle for longing life,
And subsequent return into mortal strife.

“Oh crap!” he yelled out as the island disappeared before his eyes. He kept repeating the words like an overly excited child who gulped down too much sugar except added a pinch of horror syrup by accident. The rush of the wind screamed through his ears he found himself squealing like a little girl halfway down his descent. His heart beat faster than a racehorse at a derby while his mind tripped over itself trying to figure out what to do in such an inhumane situation. Two nerves bashed into each other that made Chance gasp with a mix of desperation and fear as he started to flail his legs without aim. Somehow the plummet started to slow and his eyes realized his legs blurred so thickly they resembled watercolors.

By some grace of God his aimless leg flailing worked. Golgi Isle slowly came into focus below him and he noticed all the little dots of people moving around the streets. He and his body drank in every corner of the sight but his body also drank from the cursed cup of exhaustion and gave notice to Chance through his quickly blurring vision. A high pitched gasp shot out of his throat as the valiant young man went half-conscious and let gravity take over. If any relief fixated in his mind it was that he’d tear right through the roof of his house.

Chance crashed right into Fols’ attic with the sounds of thunder and lightning travelling behind. His conscious shot to life and he stared at the large hole in the ceiling with narrowed eyes of irritated surprise. The size of the hole shocked him more than the aching pain at the top of his head but a little deducing helped him figure out he crashed through the roof like a missile. He got up, looked around and noticed Fols huddled behind some crates with a hand up.

“S’up,” he said nonchalantly with a small, calm wave. Chance crooked a frown and furrowed his brows.

“Why aren’t you minding the stations?” Chance didn’t seem to realize how strange the predicament looked. Him in handcuffs and crashing through the roof surely meant something odd was going on but Fols didn’t seem to mind either.

“Forget that, you look like a wreck!” Fols quirked a brow as he sized up Chance’s bruises and scratches. “Did you have some sexy fun time with Eirin or something? What’s with those cuffs?”

“Oy!” Chance barked out. “What kind of stupid remark is that? I got caught by the noble’s soldiers.” A needle pierced through his heart when he remembered the soldier’s merciless beating. Like a lashed dog he lowered his head and clenched his teeth. Fols tilted his head and frowned.

“Looks like something bad went down.” Fols crept to Chance’s side and leaned onto a crate. “Hey, tell me about it.”

“This seems like a weird place to talk about this stuff.” Chance pouted and gazed to the side. “You still haven’t told me why you’re up here, too.”

“About ten minutes after you left some navy folk barged in and locked the restaurant down.” Fols scratched around his ear like his words didn’t bear any weight. “They wanted to take me in for questioning but I hid up here when they turned their backs. I think they’re messing up your room.”

“What!?” Chance growled as he recognized the sound of his bookcase crashing down below. “Argh! It took me days to organize that bookcase!”

“Hey now, calm down.” Fols waved his hand like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Tell me what happened up there. Something got you spooked.”

“How can you be so calm?” A crooked scowl flew onto Chance’s face. He shot it toward Fols but it proved ineffective.

“Friends first, it’s not like those folks are gonna be a problem anyways.” Fols disarmed Chance with a smile. The blonde held back a scoff and looked away as his mind organized his thoughts.

“Remember that day when Eirin’s father almost killed me?” Chance didn’t need to see the cringing expression tightening up on Fols’ face. Fols nibbled on the insides of his lower lip. “I got surrounded because some navy captain smacked me off from the second floor. Eirin bluffed the guards but one of them had a hair trigger and almost shot her face off.”

“Jeez, you guys are magnets for trouble.” Fols shook his head and snickered empathetically. “That poor guy must’ve gotten the crap beaten outta him.”

“You have no idea.” Chance blew out a quick sigh. “I felt every blow, my whole body just froze up and I couldn’t get her to stop.”

“It’s not your fault anyways.” Fols patted Chance on the back a few times. “Things could’ve gone a lot worse, I’m sure you know that, Mister Smarty Pants.”

Hesitation bogged Chance’s mind. Things could’ve gone a lot better too. “I guess so.”

His words made Fols frown in disappointment. “You’re so uptight. You’re both still breathing, whatever else happened can easily be made up as long as you have the hope for it. You know, give yourself a CHANCE!” Fols laughed like he made the best joke in the world. Chance choked down an ungrateful smile, knowing such stupid humor shouldn’t get the best of him but for some reason the thought made him want to smile even more.

So he bonked Fols in the head. “Ow! That hurt!” Fols calmed down as Chance shook his head. The commotion below them stopped and they heard words being exchanged.

“I thought I heard something upstairs,” one voice said. Chance narrowed his eyes in disbelief. How did they not realize there was an attic, especially after crashing through the roof?

“There are no stairs, idiot!” another voice barked out.

GAH! Chance struggled to control his anger. Are they that stupid!?

“Calm down now,” Fols cautioned with a nervous smile. “C’mon, it’s fine, don’t be like that.”

“They can’t be…,” Chance’s breathing accelerated. He hoped to the lord almighty the people below them weren’t as stupid as he thought.

“That doesn’t mean there isn’t an attic space or something!” the first voice retorted angrily.

“Oh I’m sorry, I don’t see a ladder anywhere, do you?” quipped the first voice’s friend.

“AUGH!” Chance screamed out. Fols choked down a startled cry as his friend started going on a tirade.

“Chance! Hey, calm down, they’re gonna hear you!” Fols’ urging only caused Chance’s anger to grow.

“They should’ve heard me when I crashed through the stupid ceiling!” He rose up and started stomping down on the floor. “You hear me, you idiots? Don’t you think the ladder would be INSIDE the attic and that you wouldn’t be able to see it? Are you that stupid!?” His anger blinded him in vibrant red and his stomping accelerated so quickly it blurred out with each connection with the attic’s wooden floor. The poor wood cried out for mercy in the way of numerous cracks but Chance’s satanic feet carried none.

The wood continued giving way and finally consumed his foot. Chance struggled with livid anger as he grunted and pulled to free himself but the hungry floor tasted delicious human flesh and quickly gulped down the blonde’s whole leg. The attic creaked violently as more of the wood splintered apart. Fols looked down with defeat as the floor completely collapsed and hurled the two down into Chance’s now messy quarters.

A cloud of dust splashed across the room amidst the cries of surprise and pain. Chance’s back smashed against one of the navy soldiers and Fols landed butt down against the other soldier’s head. The window popped open from the pressure and guided the dust and loose debris through it like a shepherd guiding his lost sheep. The last dust mite barreled out of the room while Chance clawed half his body out from the wooden shambles of the attic floor and let out a cry of rage.

“Perfect!” he barked out with a growl. “I can’t even see my bookshelf under this mess!”

Fols sucked in a breath of air as he climbed out from the mess. He glanced around and chuckled a bit. “Well, that was interesting.” He lifted himself out from the wreckage and helped a seething Chance by pulling him up by the chain of his handcuffs. “Up you go! I think you made a bit too much noise.”

A navy soldier swept the burlap curtain aside and gazed with utmost shock at the display of carnage. His orange ascot drooped down as a squeak of disbelief shot from his throat. Fols studied the soldier’s blue and white uniform and stifled a snicker.

“Is that the new navy uniform? Yuck!” Fols laughed as Chance cringed ever so slightly.

“It looks a lot worse in person,” the blonde added.

The navy soldier pointed apprehensively at the young men and cried out with a stutter. “He’s here! The traitor kid’s here!” Even as several soldiers with cutlasses rushed past their comrade and towards the two Fols’ laughter continued. Chance looked to him with a disgruntled stare and frowned.

“They’re coming to arrest us,” he said affirmatively. “Why are you still laughing?”

“Eh?” Fols stopped laughing as a navy soldier lunged towards him. The soldier let out a grunt as Fols ducked down and flipped him over his back and through the window. “That was pretty impolite,” he said with a calm demeanor. The remaining soldiers felt no fear as they climbed over the wreck and barked out warnings toward the two young punks.

“We don’t have to kill you here, Traitor Kid,” one of them said. “But maybe you’re better off dead anyways!”

“You know our orders!” another one barked out. “Take him alive!”

Chance scoffed and sneered at the sailors. One of them lunged at Chance but found himself with a face full of rubber sandals. The inhuman speed of the impact dislocated the sailor’s jaw and hurled him down the little hill of debris like a lifeless ragdoll. “Hope you enjoy hell with a nice slice of dislocation, morons!”

One of the sailors looked to the unconscious one and gasped. “What the hell was that? It didn’t even look like he was hit that hard!”

“Think we should leave?” Fols asked as he nonchalantly pushed a soldier down with his foot.

“You first,” Chance quipped. The display of his once clean roomed seared a painful mental note in his mind. Organizing that small bookshelf of his took several hours; as far as he cared he could keep kicking faces in until time stopped. Fols tugged on the chain of Chance’s handcuffs and then thumbed towards the window. The blonde frowned with a sweet longing to rage out but succumbed to his friend’s plan and hopped out of the window after him. The sailors inside started yelling out orders as the two landed on the soldier Fols hurled through the window and ran down the street.

They expected a lot of congested traffic in the middle of the afternoon but the streets were barren save for the unfortunately numerous amounts of navy soldiers littering the streets. The two stopped in their tracks and glanced around for a better exit as the troops ran towards them.

“Alley!” Fols yelled. Chance managed to uppercut a sailor with his foot before jerking to the side and heading into the alleyway. Two other soldiers whipped around the corner to block them but the young punks didn’t stop for a moment. Fols gripped one by the head and twirled over him while Chance slid over the ground and dropped the soldiers onto their faces.

“Morons!” Chance barked out, putting more salt into the wounds of disgrace. Fols couldn’t help but to chuckle. The street started coming to life with people and the two assimilated themselves with the local populace. The pursuing soldiers stopped near the edge of the crowds and cursed their luck as Chance and Fols solidified their successful getaway.

“Guess you’re gonna have to call another place home.” Fols joked cheerfully. Chance didn’t feel the love and scowled.

“I’ll be back for my books,” Chance replied with conviction. He kept an eye on their surroundings as the two continued their way towards the gate leading out of the city. Despite their escape Chance’s face kept a constant look of worry which Fols noticed as he glanced over to him.

He already knew what bugged him. Fols nudged Chance on the shoulder and smiled reassuringly to him. As hard as he tried Chance couldn’t help but to smile in return. He knew Eirin would be fine but still couldn’t help but feel ashamed for not sticking around even under the surveillance of the navy goons.

The unfortunate truth of the matter was that Eirin was already captured by the time they escaped. She yelled and scolded as her captor tossed her onto the street like she was nothing.

“How dare you!” she fumed incredulously. “Did you forgot who I was, you scum?” Some of the city guards laughed spitefully at her useless words.

“Any friend of the Traitor Kid is just worthless,” the chief replied with a sneer. “I’m sure your father would think the same thing.” Eirin’s face tensed up with anger as the chief shook his head. “That was quite a stunning performance at the lodge, but this time it won’t help you.”

“Sir!” a navy soldier said as he saluted the chief. “Lord Ravonov is coming! He wants to speak to the prisoner!”

“What?” the chief muttered in shock. His heart accelerated a thousand beats per second as he ordered all the navy soldiers and city guards to form up and clear the street. His mind reveled in the commanding power as they stood with their heads held high and eyes focused like a discipline corps of well-trained defenders. The chief straightened out his cap and folded his hands behind his back as he and the rest of his troops waited for the lord to approach from the road.

The wind seemed to blow from a different direction however. A refined gentleman in a red three-piece suit approached from behind the chief like he flew in with the waves of the wind. His salt and pepper hair was trimmed as neatly as his muttonchops and beard while the stoic expression on his face portrayed nothing but civility and elegance. His broad, confident shoulders undoubtedly caused the chief’s attire and stature to pale in comparison. Eirin let out a sigh of disappointment and shook her head as the chief and his soldiers continued facing in the wrong direction.

The sound of Lord Ravonov taking out a hickory pipe caused everyone but the young mistress to jerk and look in his direction. He examined it for a moment before adding some tobacco leaves from a leather pouch with the word “Montrel” embroidered on the mouth. Beads of sweat started forming on the chief’s forehead as Ravonov took out a match and twirled it with his fingers. When he used the chief’s face to light the match the soldiers in formation gasped out in mountainous horror.

“I see my daughter is safe,” he said with such a calm demeanor that further unnerved the chief and his crew. “But I have to wonder why she is on the ground like that.” The scent of raspberry filled the air as Ravonov continued blowing out smoke. The chief struggled to keep himself standing up straight where his fellow crew already surrendered to Lord Ravonov’s indomitable presence. Many of them paled, wondering how he managed to avoid them without causing a single sound across the street.

“She was conspiring with the Traitor Kid, sir.” The chief started to doubt his own words. Ravonov simply nodded but it was with the special tinge of bitterness that the chief noticed.

“I see. And how do you know this?” Ravonov gently tapped some ashes from his pipe. The chief struggled to maintain his composure and felt himself giving way like the ashes dissipating into the air. Every second Ravonov eyed him caused him to stifle a wince or a fidget.

“She aided in his escape from your lodge and said he was her slave.” The head guard swallowed down a knife of a lump lodged in his throat. The more he spoke the less his words felt convincing.

“So you’re accusing my daughter of being a liar.” Ravonov nodded as if he knew all the facts. The words gutted the chief like a poor fish in a butcher’s clutches.

“With all due respect, sir!” the head guard said as he stuttered uncontrollably. “That’s not what I meant, I meant that she –”

“I’ve kept a tenuous truce with the navy, you know.” Ravonov turned his back on the chief and calmly looked around. “I’m certain you’re old enough to recall that they massacred almost more than a third of the populace looking for the Traitor Kid’s father.” He let a slow tendril of smoke out from the corner of his mouth and turned to face the chief again. “Not only has the navy destroyed one of my lodges but one of their measly captains is now walking around my city like he owned it. And do you know who I fully blame?”

The chief tried to respond but Ravonov cut him off as he pointed to him with his pipe. “You. Were it not for the incompetency of you and your soldiers Eirin’s slave would have not escaped his quarters and my lodge would not be in shambles.” He loomed over the chief like a man over an ant and glared venomously at him. “And do you know what I’ve heard? I’ve heard several navy ships are coming to dock momentarily because they believe this ridiculous Traitor Kid is still alive. How do you think I feel about this?”

Silence coiled around everyone like snakes. Eirin’s body refused to move an inch as she watched her father break down the chief’s spirit with mere words. The whole street thrived with the deathly pale soldiers standing on the sidewalks, all of which dared not to move a single millimeter without fearing of furious rebukes from the imposing lord. Ravonov quirked a brow as he waited for the head guard to respond.

“Very angry,” the chief finally said with a limp tone. Ravonov closed his eyes and nodded serenely.

“Yes,” he added calmly. “I am very angry.” He put his hands on the chief’s shoulders and smiled. “But there are many ways to forgiveness, and I’m sure you’ll find a way to acquire redemption for these mistakes.”

Every sailor and city guard near the two gasped out with shock. They couldn’t possibly believe after that tongue lashing that the chief was going to be let go without more than the matchstick burn on his face. The head guard smiled and opened his mouth to speak when Ravonov let go of him, but as soon as he did a bullet whizzed through the chief’s brain cage and implanted itself into the side of the street. An expression of utmost shock stuck onto his face as his body slumped to the ground. A few miles away upon the grounds of Ravonov’s estate Howard peered from the balcony with a musket in hand and the barrel still smoking.

“Redemption found,” Ravonov uttered calmly. Every pair of eyes that made contact with Ravonov’s flinched away violently. He looked to the rest of the soldiers and guards and sent a commanding stare towards them. “You all stay here and ensure the slave doesn’t return. I’m sure you can do a better job than the one sprawled across my street.” They all loudly acknowledged the order with and scattered to surround the restaurant. Eirin gazed at her father with suspicious eyes even as he lent a hand to help her up.

“Well?” he said with a terse voice. “If you want to help yourself up then do it faster.”

So she did while brushing dust off from her dress. Her father wrapped a gentle hand around her and urged her to follow even if she didn’t want to. The display of affection made Eirin’s stomach roll around in displeasure.

“So what now?” Eirin asked impatiently. “Shall you confine me in my room as usual?” She let out a huff of pride and swiped her father’s hand away. “Typical. I bet mother would be most pleased.”

“Are you happy here?” Ravonov asked. The tone of the question caught Eirin off-guard. His voice felt touched by a sorrow left unchecked for years.

“Of course not,” Eirin said spitefully. “You should know why.” Her spirit felt no urge to back down against a man like her father. “I’m sure your mistress will realize the same as she gets to know you.”

The words jarred Ravonov in his tracks. In a flash his face broke down from its stoic composure to one of extreme sadness. “Is that what you believe?”

Eirin crossed her arms and glanced away. “I see no other reason for you to depart the house in the middle of the night.”

Ravonov nodded. “I see.” He continued walking with his hands rested behind his back. Eirin lurked around his side, waiting for a chance to escape his presence before it chokes her. “Then please let me explain.”

She couldn’t believe the nerve he had. “Explain? Nothing you say will convince me.” The words peppered Ravonov with melancholy but he still found the strength to continue.

“Then if nothing I say will change your mind then so be it.” He paused for a moment before adding, “But regardless I will not stop you from doing whatever you wish from this point on.”

The young mistress stopped as he did. The words lured her to a false sense of security even though her mind knew who they were coming from. Only her father would be this forthcoming, and she supposed that if that was his decision she would hear him out. “If you believe it will make a difference,” she uttered with slow caution. Lord Ravonov nodded and gestured towards a small safe with an outside patio. Simple wooden seats and tables with umbrellas hanging over them decorated it that made the scene look quaint, and the two took a seat near the corner and began their discussion while Chance and Fols finally made their way into White Fog.

Eirin never dreamed of her father being this honest, but as she listened the winds of change calmly rolled by and whispered a vision of the future into her ear.

I don’t remember what time it was when this happened but I assume it’s when all the young fools of the world get out of high school, so around three o’clock give or take. Being the bad person that I am I wanted to procure some nourishment from the nearby mall and get on with my day despite knowing Burger King isn’t what you’d usually call normal food. When I entered the mall it was as uselessly spacious as I remembered considering the several dozen times I’d been in there. I think it was one of those days people hated, maybe Monday or Sunday seeing as there were barely any people around.

Since I have a low self-esteem I can’t help but to wonder what people are thinking when I cross eyes with them. I tend to slouch but yet there’s this aggressive stance I put on that I don’t necessarily realize until someone calls me out on it – if anyone actually does. I also tend to have the most depressing expression plastered to my face, and I automatically assume anyone who lays eyes on me will choke out of pure sympathy and die right on the spot. Unfortunately people don’t realize this is my normal face and if anyone actually died they would do so in vain.

I went to a private high school so I was wearing khakis and a suit shirt with a tie wrapped around my neck like a boa constrictor. My shoes were black and they hurt, period. I think it was cold because I also wore a black, furry fleece but can’t be certain since I’ve always worn that particular article of clothing ever since my father purchased it for me. Now if you would, imagine this young man with a face so full of accidental sorrow walking towards the Burger King section of the food court so he can get some greasy, unhealthy food and then be on his way to do who knows what.

Now imagine two young ladies walking up to him and forcing him to smile.

I’m not sure what possessed these women to do what they did. Did God misinterpret another one of my facial expressions? Was I about to get punk’d and see Ashton Kutcher waltz around the corner with a camera crew? In this particularly wretched moment of time and space it felt like every stranger within a one-thousand mile radius had their eyes on me, rubbing me with their pupils and slathering me with icky fluids without even realizing it.

At first I thought I recognized these woman. After shooing away that impossible thought I began to wonder if they mistook me for my brother since he’s usually so popular. It was then after a few more seconds of them literally blabbering nonsense to me that none of the above were correct and that they were trying to acquire my specific attention. There was no mistake of recognition, they just wanted my attention for some reason.

I started to feel worried as I studied their facial features working in motion. If I didn’t know any better – and I still don’t to this day – I thought they were casting some hex on me. I know I’ve made mistakes during my childhood but I never went out of my way to bother others, at least I tried not to but my luck reveled in screaming out misinterpretations for people to assume as fact. By the time I realized it I was smiling.

I remember uttering how stupid they looked. However they just giggled and walked away. Did I just get forced to smile without my explicit consent? Was this some mental raping tactic? I felt uneasy after collecting my thoughts and retrieving my usual expression. Do I look that miserable to people? If this event has anything to do with the way I look I can definitely say yes. Not one but two strangers who I’ve never made contact with nor ever even been acquainted with in sight walks up to another stranger and attempts to make him smile.

Is it better to find truth or revel in ignorance? When I think on this day I can’t help but to wonder what their intentions were. Knowing my self-esteem I can only think I looked so miserable that two selfless strangers took the time and energy to show me that life wasn’t all bad. But it’s here that no one realizes ignorance and truth break into two separate ends of a rope. If there’s anything I remember, anything at all about that day it was that I was going to eat, go home, and then snuggle contently into my computer chair and play video games.

Perhaps I am in error to assume those ladies were “selfless” strangers. Whatever reasons ulterior or otherwise have vanished to ash and no more answers lie with me today. I only understand that I have a good reason to accuse them of terrible deeds because they followed some impulse in their brains even though they knew nothing about me.

I’ve got nothing against smiling. My smiles are meant to be cherished, not used and abused. If a stranger goes out of his or her way to make me smile then I can only consider that an act of cruel intent. Though if I think on it more I’d probably call them a bully too. I could spend my days wondering why I remember this particular day so fondly but then I’d be wasting a lot of time when I could be doing something better. The thing is since I seem to attract bullies, odd people and selfless strangers so often I can’t help but to be curious about their intentions.

I guess this is one of those moments where a person says “Fuck it” and repeatedly stabs their self-esteem with a bowie knife of ignorant closure. Who the hell knows who’s in the right; whatever reasons anyone has, whatever they’re feeling or not, why ever people do the things they do will only be a mystery to everyone but themselves. I just gotta stab that one guy in the very dark corner of my mind and tell him to shut up; I already have a low self-esteem, I don’t need him to gawk at me and shove further uncertainty towards the rest of my brain.

“Where are the guards!?” one nobleman yelled helplessly as a cobblestone pelted his scrawny face and hurled his unconscious body to the ground with a fresh bruise.

“The rats are invading!” A noblewoman with a sharp, pointy nose shrieked. “The mongrels are invading! Don’t let them steal my clothes!”

Chance’s face stretched into a mocking grin as a scoff slid past his teeth and into the sordid, arrogant air. His demeanor twisted into a frown when the guards finally burst into the lodge with muskets in hand.

“There!” A round and scrunch-faced nobleman shouted as he pointed towards Chance. “A street rat fell from the sky! Get rid of him!’

“Look what he did to my wife!” A thin-faced man wailed as he consoled his wife. The peanut-shaped woman looked to him and wept even though nothing seemed to be wrong with her. “Outrageous! Put the scum out of his misery!”

The air continuously filled with the same endless insults. They wailed their eyes and hearts out, stifling coughs, bringing up the occasional rat comment in order to emphasize that their problem needed to be dealt with immediately or else someone could die from the sheer sight of a lowlife such as Chance.

“Fire!” One of the guards barked out as the others did as ordered. Chance scowled hard at them and spun himself up to run across the beam under the cacophony of gunfire. His blood pumped like a motor until a discovery caused him to slow down to a halt. He stood there and faced the guards while they continued firing volley after volley of bullets yet none of them struck. Chance tilted his head to the side as a bullet slowly passed by and carved into a smaller beam near the roof.

Huh. He formed a ring with his hand and watched as a bullet passed through it. Another shot sluggishly made its way to him and he pointed directly at it. He felt his finger quickly heat up as the bullet drew closer and finally made contact. A bold thought flew through his brain and he pressed against the piece of metal only to end up wincing as a scalding pain shot through his finger. He stepped to the side and allowed the bullet to pass as he peered down and examined the burn mark etched onto the very tip of his finger.

The head guard clenched his teeth so tightly his jaw cracked. His ferocious scowl centered upon Chance as the troublemaker stood there and looked at his finger like the gunfire ringing throughout the lodge meant nothing to him. Every bullet that passed through him caused his physical form to reverberate so violently it was like he was melding in between time and space. The head guard stifled a burning growl gaining momentum in his throat as Chance looked toward him and sneered.

“Are you all blind?” The chief barked out. “He’s standing right there!”

“Our bullets are going through him!” An aghast soldier shouted through the commotion. “He’s like some kind of demon!”

“When you guys run out of bullets what are you gonna do?” Chance spaced his feet apart and braced them as he clapped his hands over his head and jutted his elbows to his sides. He started doing some weird crab dance, slowly strafing to the sides while constantly clapping his hands together. The chief’s face went blood red as he watched Chance dance with a nonchalant expression plastered on the young man’s face.

Howard furrowed his brows as he leaned deeper onto the side of the doorframe and watched Chance act like a fool with his crab dancing. “Milady, what in the world is he doing?”

Eirin stood frozen on the other side of the doorframe, keeping her wide eyes on Chance as each bullet distorted his figure. “Do you not notice him blurring up with each shot? How is he doing that?”

“Does Milady not know what a Demon Fruit is?” He swept two fingers down his mustache and mused to himself. “I do wonder how he acquired such a treasure. They are certainly rare in the Cardinal Seas.”

“Wait,” Eirin commanded with shock in her voice. “Demon Fruit? Those things?”

“Quite so, Milady.” He peered past the doorframe and eyed Chance. “If I may be so bold to estimate the Young Master consumed a Physical Type Demon Fruit.”

Eirin groaned impatiently. “We don’t have time for this! I have to figure out what to do.”

The sounds of bouncing quickly approached the lodge. Howard mused to himself and gazed upwards as an oval-shaped figure descended from the sky and deftly entered through the hole in the roof. “Oh dear.”

The man slammed hard into Chance’s back and flung him off the large beam. Chance hit the wooden floor so hard he caused it to crack in several places. He writhed over the floor with his arms clutched over his chest, the pained look on his face making the head guard smile in sadistic victory. He stood over the writhing young man and sneered with arrogant pride before landing a kick straight into his gut.

“Oh no!” Eirin furrowed her brows. The oval-shaped man hopped off the large beam and landed gracefully onto the ground floor. “He isn’t with the guards. Don’t tell me….”

Howard nodded with a murmur rumbling in his throat. “He’s with the Navy. Gracious, what would a captain be doing here?”

“I know this is dangerous but I need you to trust me.” Eirin gave Howard a stern, serious look. The gentleman butler’s throat stifled with a knot but he nodded nonetheless.

“When the time’s right I’ll go in and try to bluff them.” Eirin watched as the chief stood over Chance and gloated about his victory.

“Milady!?” Howard stood aghast, eyes pleading her to reconsider. “Please, there has to be some other way!”

“You know this can work.” Eirin continued watching as the oval-shaped man approached the group of guards. “Even the Navy realizes a noble’s influence. Do you know who that is?”

Howard stammered as he swallowed down a few other knots plugging his throat. “That’s Captain Hamuzu. He worked under Chance’s father before his defection.”

The young mistress’s blood stopped in her veins. “This just became more risky.” The two continued watching as the chief bellowed a haughty, mocking laugh.

“Filth like you are all the same.” He shook his head and looked up to address Hamuzu. “Thank you for the assistance, Captain. We can take it from here.”

“Be sure that you do,” Hamuzu said with a chuckle. “Fwe he he, he’s quite the interesting one, is he not?” A wide, twisted smile spread across his face.

“They don’t deserve our attention,” the head guard barked out impulsively. “Rats will always be rats.”

The guards all laughed with mocking jeers. Chance growled in defiance as he continued clutching his gut, beads of sweat trickling down his face which contorted with a mix of pain and unbridled anger. The chief’s arrogant smile stuck like glue on his face as he grinded the heel of his boot into Chance’s face.

“I don’t know what happened,” The chief uttered threateningly as he stared down the more than defeated young man. “But it won’t matter. Get him ready for execution.” He swiped his heel down and forced Chance onto his belly. One of the guards knelt beside him with handcuffs but the rebellious man whipped his hands around to avoid them. He spat out a breathless cry as a foot slammed into his back. When the cuffs clicked into place an incredibly displeased voice boomed through the building.

“How dare you!” Eirin cried out with prideful arrogance as she entered the half-destroyed lodge. “Can we not depend on you lousy guards to keep this filth in check? Look what’s happened to my father’s lodge!”

Howard’s legs numbed as Eirin stormed commandingly towards the armed guards. Some of them slouched in fear, others warping their expressions into confusion as hesitation bloomed across the chief guard’s face. The young mistress gritted her teeth in furious shock, sneering up to the chief with a sharp, jagged glare that only a god would fix upon a lowly worm of a mortal.

“Lady Ravonov!?” the chief stuttered. His blood froze up as Eirin eyed him up and down. Sweat so cold dripped down his face it felt like it was getting frostbitten. When the young lady scoffed and walked past him a lump crashed down his throat.

The guards shook as her presence made their feet tremble like twigs bracing a gigantic boulder. The grips on their muskets waned and one almost dropped his until he flailed life and limb to catch it. The other guards watched with slacked jaws of terror etched onto their faces as the clumsy gunman jerked around to catch the musket. He clutched the weapon with such a brutish grip he melded his hand with the trigger of the gun and accidentally discharged a bullet. Several strands of hair tore away from Eirin’s head as the bullet whizzed past her and grounded into the wall near the doorframe.

Her jaw dropped slightly in cold shock as her eyes dilated with unclear recognition. Hamuzu watched absently as a loud gasp of abject horror rolled through the lodge and a blood-curdling silence engulfed it. All eyes fell on Eirin as her pupils shrunk, the sound of a high-pitched scream filling each guard’s heart with such terror God seemed to punish them with a strike from a mighty, unrelenting hand. When she clenched her teeth they saw something akin to a demon taking over, and then she opened her mouth to speak the words that could end their worlds.

“YOU MISERABLE, INCOMPETENT COCKROACH!” She stormed towards the clumsy gunman and backhanded him across the face. He crumpled to the ground like shattered ice with whimpering so hysterical he looked to have regressed to a baby state. Eirin continued her punishing as she kicked, stomped, and swore the guard into his own hell that no level of redemption could ever save him from. She spat out insult after insult and each struck like a weapon that could single-handedly tear the poor man’s body from his soul without him emitting so much as a whimper.

Chance watched with horror trapped in his eyes. His mind struggled to process what was going on as each of Eirin’s unbridled strikes connected with the guardsman. The pain of his body bowed to the sorrow curdling through his heart, a sensation of something terrible burrowing out of the darkest corners of his mind to toy with his sight. His heart stopped as Eirin opened her mouth to scold with words as cold as ice.

“You let rats in, you shoot up my father’s lodge, and then you almost killed me! You stupid idiots are only worthy as footstools!” Each point drove their way into the cowering men like hot steel through flesh. The unfortunate guard was already beaten unconscious, no longer privy to Eirin’s fury, only present to take the physical blows. The harsh mistress loomed over the battered body and glared at it, breathing deep to accommodate for the cruel beating. No words dared to enter the air as Eirin snatched Chance by the collar and dragged him away towards the exit. The young man fought to compress his fear as Eirin’s heated hand constantly grazed his neck like a sharpened blade.

“Lady Ravonov!” the chief guard shouted with a weak squeak. “That brat’s dangerous!” His windpipe shut immediately when she stopped and shot a glare over her shoulder.

“This brat is my slave. If you rotten guards did your jobs he wouldn’t have escaped his quarters!” She scoffed and continued on while the chief struggled to restart the flow of his blood. Hamuzu tilted his head and sniggered curiously.

“Fwe he, pardon my intrusion, Milady.” Hamuzu bowed deeply as Eirin stopped with a impatient sigh. “But are you aware of who that is?”

The mistress froze with deathly shock and stifled a squeak that almost shot out of her mouth. Howard twisted from the doorframe as he planted his back onto the wall and loud gasp of sheer horror fired out of him like his soul just departed. Eirin fought to control her breathing, her brain yelling to flee while her heart commanded to think and plan accordingly.

“Captain,” she said impatiently as she turned to give Hamuzu a cold stare. “Whatever your quarrels are with this slave mean nothing to me. They are simple tools for us and they will accept any names we give them. If you have anything important to say – and I surely believe you don’t, then I will be heading off.”

A glint of light reflected off the captain’s sunglasses. He tilted his head and stared at Eirin before gazing to Chance. A low, soft chuckle escaped his lips as he bowed deeply. “Very well, Milady. Stay safe, yes?”

Eirin huffed arrogantly as she turned and walked away. The three walked down the street until they disappeared from wandering eyes. Captain Hamuzu pushed his sunglasses up and smiled like a shark.

“Captain? Why are you interested in the brat?” The chief furrowed his brows in confusion as Hamuzu chuckled wryly.

“You’ll know soon enough, fwe he he….”

“Gracious, that was quite the ordeal!” Howard took a handkerchief from a pocket and wiped some sweat away from his forehead. “I am truly glad Milady succeeded. Shall we return home and patch up the Young Master?” He looked to Chance gazing down somberly at the pavement. He struggled to walk forward as his legs wobbled uncontrollably. Trepidation burrowed over his face and his eyes glazed in deep thought. The chains of his handcuffs rattled through his mind while Eirin gave him a concerned, uneasy look.

“Chance?” she said softly. She moved a hand to touch his shoulder but he flinched away. The three stopped walking as fear broiled through Chance’s navy blue eyes. A pang of regret shot through Eirin’s mind as the prior events seeped into focus.

Oh dear, Howard thought with melancholy as he switched glances between the two. I was afraid this would happen.

Eirin jerked her hand away and clasped them to her chest. A quiet pleading echoed through her mind as her eyes lined with water. “Chance?” she said with a weak whimper.

Clarity smashed through Chance’s mind as he blinked. He scowled hard and tightly shut his eyes as he jerked into a squat with a broken shout. “I’m going home!”

He thrust himself into the air before the two could say anything. They watched as he soared through the sky and disappeared behind the towering buildings. Eirin stood like a statue, her hand raised to the sky and her jaw lowered. The hands of time vowed for her instant destruction and she collapsed to her knees and slammed her hands into the cobblestoned ground.

“Stupid!” she cursed herself as a few tears trickled down her face. “So stupid! How can you lose control of yourself? Look at what you’ve done!” Her hands reddened with agony as she slammed them against the ground several times. The flaring pain in her chest outweighed anything she could imagine even as her arms started to shake from the impact of her fists.

“Milady!” Howard urged as he grabbed Eirin by the wrists. She violently twisted around and tried to force her hands to beat the pavement but they stopped responding as her body acknowledged their pain. A restrained growl shot out of her throat and she gave in to Howard’s plea.

“I’m so stupid,” Eirin cried out weakly with fierce pain in her eyes. “He didn’t need to live through this again.”

“Do not say such things!” Howard gave the young mistress a look of utmost confidence and optimism. “Had you not done what you did then perhaps we would be facing much more serious problems. Milady is strong no matter what, and she will learn from her mistakes as she always does!”

Eirin let out a breath of embarrassment. Her hands pulsed with blood as their pain quickly kicked in. Howard felt safe to let her hands go and Eirin winced as she gingerly rubbed them together. Her face rekindled with newfound vigor as she wiped away stray tears and lifted herself up.

“Return home and retrieve the medical kit. I’ll meet you at Chance’s, understood?” She pouted when Howard crossed his arms and looked away.

“Impossible! I cannot leave Milady’s side after all this!” He stood strong in his position even as Eirin put her hands on her hips.

“There’s no time for that. Bring me my medical bag this instant!” She gave Howard a gaze of disapproval. His body trembled a bit and he gave into defeat with a sigh.

“Thank you, Howard.” She smiled sweetly and turned to dash down the street.

“Make haste, Milady!” Howard yelled as he waved to her. “The Master may suspect something amiss if we do not return in time!” He sighed again as Eirin disappeared around a corner. Worry flooded his mind as he started his way down the opposite side of the street. He may already suspect something amiss! Please, Milady, make great haste!

Fols touched the top knee of Chance’s leg. Chance hurled the sheets off him and slapped the hand away, clutching Fols’ collar with his other hand and slouching over the edge of the bed. Fols stared at him with trembling hands, blinking his eyes as if he were dreaming.

I didn’t even see him move! Fols thought to himself. Fols gulped down a knot blocking his throat as the sheets finally landed on the bed. “Uh, Chance?”

Chance’s glazed eyes didn’t acknowledge him but his mouth let out an incoherent grunt. Fols tapped his hand softly in order to ensure another speedy act didn’t leave him dismembered or worse. “Yoo-hoo, boyo?”

The drowsy young man drooped his head as a tendril of saliva slipped down his lip. He snorted, wiped the drool with his shirt and then used both hands to rub his eyes. “Did you open the window?” he yawned as his face scrunched and relaxed. “I felt some draft come by.”

Fols looked at him crookedly. “You didn’t realize you grabbed my collar?”

Chance shook his head and yawned again. “What’s today?”

“Your off-day.” Fols opened the window and exposed the activity coming from outside. The swamped streets teemed with the shouts from open markets and the laughter of kids running around and bumping into people whose scolding did nothing to settle them. “You shouldn’t have any problem getting into Noble’s Paradise with all this going on.” Fols cleared his throat and steadied his nerves with a sigh. “Though, I think you’re already late.”

“What?” Chance barked out horridly. “What time is it?” He scrambled through his desk’s drawers so fast Fols felt his head going light. The two blurred hands turned into several as they took out an article of clothing from each drawer.

“It’s,” he stammered as his eyes watched the clothes pop onto Chance without a glint of movement. “Almost twelve o’clock.” Before he knew it Chance was fully dressed with navy blue cargo pants held up by a black leather belt, a white T-shirt with a gray colored anchor in the center and “Navy” printed above it that was diagonally crossed out in red. Fols stifled a gasp when a white windbreaker with a thick, navy blue stripe travelling from the shoulders to the wrists appeared on Chance without so much as a blink.

“Crap!” Chance scolded himself as he leapt out the window with a black, thick-soled shoe in one hand. “Thanks for this, I’ll pay you back!”

“Yeah,” Fols said breathlessly with a slacked jaw, watching Chance run off into the crowd and disappear. He clicked his tongue with a chuckle and mouthed, “What the hell,” as he turned to the burlap curtain. A fading thought crept back into light as he slowly walked through the small hallway. If he dressed that quickly shouldn’t he be running just as fast? He shrugged to himself and entered the main room of the restaurant. He fired up the grills and couldn’t help but address the thought once more. Demon fruits, he mocked with a slight grin. Only for the odd.

Chance zigzagged through the streams of people with such finesse no one realized he was passing them. The high, stone walls separating Noble’s Paradise and Vescle didn’t look any closer but caused Chance to quicken his pace with determination. He kept his eyes on the street and sighted a cart full of apples. As he drew closer to it his heart started to beat quicker and the warmth of his blood surged through his body. He thrust a hand toward one of the apples at the very top and plucked it off without unsettling the others.

“Damn,” he cursed to himself as the cart disappeared behind the sea of people. He caught the glimpse of something red in his hand and realized it was an apple. Something in his brain told him to stop and stare at it with a confused look, wondering what just happened in the past few seconds.

How did this get here? he mused with a narrowed eye. His brain started working harder as he chewed through the apple and caused life-giving blood to course through his body. A thick slab of realization smacked him that made him let out a gasp.

The fruit! he shouted to the deepest reaches of his mind. It worked! I couldn’t even see myself take this! His quivering hands fumbled with the remnants of the apple. Even though his whole body felt like stone his eyes watched the apple fall in slow motion toward the cobbled street. He sank to the ground with widened eyes as the half-eaten fruit plopped into his hand, just half an inch away from the street.

“Stop foolin’ around, kid!” A man on a bike began yelling obscenities as he skidded past Chance. Chance growled menacingly and gorged through the last bits of apple before hurling it at the biker with such fearsome velocity it shattered the back of his clothing and spun his bicycle around several times. He screamed out in pain as his side felt surging pain travel over his back from the apple lodged in it and side from the impact against the hard, stone street. An anxious scowl slapped over Chance’s face and he hurled himself into an alleyway while a crowd formed over the poor man and his wrecked bicycle.

“Whoops,” Chance mumbled with ridden guilt as he leaned onto the wall and slid to a sit. He swept a hand over his face, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “Power and responsibility,” he chanted stoically to himself. He flung two fingers against his forehead for good measure and nodded with the look of newfound experience in his eyes. He lifted himself up but stopped as his ears picked up the sounds of whimpering. Chance furrowed his brows, staying carefully still in fear of losing the noise. He crept along the wall very slowly and looked over the corner to spy a towering man gazing down upon a child with a pouch clutched in his arms.

“I’m sure your mother would be worried sick if you didn’t make it back home,” the man said threateningly as a dark smile curled over his lips. The child cowered in fear, trying to stifle his whines as his arms tightened around the pouch. The smile on the man’s face twisted into a scowl as a growl rumbled in his throat. “You wouldn’t want to make an adult angry, would you, kid?”

The kid turned his head away from the man and shut his eyes. The hulking thief finally abandoned all restraint and swung his fist with a quaking growl that caused the child to let out a cry of pain. The blow connected but the man’s eyes widened with shock as Chance appeared in front of him and took the strike with a hand stacked behind the other. He glared at the thief, the fury of a fire-breathing dragon surging through his eyes that the man choked on as a knot clogged his throat.

“You should leave,” Chance warned with restrained anger boiling through his blood. “Or I’m going to kill you.”

The man’s face tensed up in half-hearted defiance while forcing down the knot in his throat. “Mind your business!” he cried out with a squeak as he prepared another swing. Chance swiped away the blow so quick he dislocated the thief’s shoulder with the sounds of muscle tearing echoing across the alley. He then spun around and reverse-kicked the thief in the torso where a loud crack reverberated from his body. The man felt such immense pain that his vision blurred out in an instant and he started frothing at the mouth as his body crumpled to the ground in a heap of limbs. The thief gurgled in hoarse screams, his eyes rolled to the back of his head while Chance looked down upon him with a pitiless glare.

“You alright, little guy?” Chance turned to the kid and smiled softly. The kid stared with sparkles of deep adoration in his big doe eyes that no words dared slip from his mouth. He let out a gasp of surprise when Chance crouched down and patted him on the head.

“You should head off, eh?” Chance chuckled with a grin. The kid blinked as a smile swept across his dirt streaked face. Chance gently nudged the child away and he happily ran off, waving back as he disappeared from the alleyway.

Chance continued grinning as he watched the kid leave. He lifted himself up and listened to the sounds of the busy streets until the flash of a bright reflection sped across the wall in front of him. He jerked around while his ears caught the noise of a strange bouncing sound echoing from the alley’s walls. He peered searchingly with a slight scowl on his face but found nothing. With a huff Chance sped out of the alley, leaving the thief to his pain and gurgling.

A roof tile slipped off from one of the houses and shattered against the ground. A tall, oval-shaped man with a violet suit shirt, white suit pants and a white coat with golden silk shoulder pads draped over his shoulders like a cape sat upon the roof with a slight lean. He tapped his brown dress shoes together where a bouncing sound jiggled out from the impact.

“Interesting,” he spoke with a slight whistle as he flicked up his sunglasses too small for his head. “Fwe he he, very interesting!” He straightened the black derby hat sitting plainly atop his long, wild black and brown hair falling across his back and watched as Chance continued running toward Noble’s Paradise.

Over the walls and deep within Noble’s Paradise a woman in a chair peered yearningly from a white, marble balcony. Her long, brown hair spilled down to the center of her back while her bangs hung elegantly just below her cheeks. She looked to be just above five feet but her gown obscured the figure of her body with lime green and white travelling from the front’s bottom up to the collar. She let out a sigh as her deep brown eyes scanned over the large yard stretching about a mile away.

The treeless yard held only a variety of neatly trimmed bushes in the shape of animals. Stone pavement divided the two sides of the yard and connected the main street with the mansion. Compared to Vescle not a single piece of litter or filth existed for miles across Noble’s Paradise and every man, woman and child dressed in expensive clothing which anyone below the terrace could only dream for. A white shine seemed to glean off the section of the city which the lady responded with a deeper sigh of melancholy.

“Your tea, milady,” An old, slender man said as he approached with a porcelain teacup and kettle on a silver tray. He set the tray onto the table beside her and elegantly poured the tea with two white gloved hands. The elderly gentleman looked to be around 5″10 with his short gray hair swept back and tied into a small ponytail. Not a single hair fell out of place from his neatly trimmed and bushy mustache which stretched across his upper lip and halted right beside his cheeks. He wore a thin black vest underneath a white suit shirt with a black, twin-tailed suit over his attire that also matched his black dress shoes.

“Ah,” Eirin gently gasped in surprise. “Thank you, Howard.” She smiled sweetly at him and took the teacup.

“Is something amiss, milady?” Howard peered to Eirin, who absently stared into the depths of her teacup. The light of realization swept over her face and she giggled reassuringly.

“I’m sorry,” she said with another sweet smile. “It’s nothing. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

“Please,” Howard said with strong, respectful regard. “Don’t apologize, milady! I am positive he will be here momentarily!” He puffed his chest up and looked to the sky with confidence. Eirin went into a fit of giggles and nodded.

“Thank you, Howard.” She smiled once more as Howard bowed deeply. After another sip she turned her gaze to the city and drifted off into thought once more. Everything seemed to go dark like clouds suddenly covered the sun while rain proceeded to drench the island. A terrible cry echoed from the back of her mind, the wailing of a small child drenched with water and huddled over someone who was lying on a dirty street with blood seeping from her dress.

Her eyes glazed over as her body slowly slacked to the side. Her hands went cold and she blinked, looked down and realized the steam coming from her tea disappeared completely. She closed her eyes and took another sip before placing the teacup onto the tray. She opened her eyes with a huff as she stood up and smiled bravely.

“Milady?” Howard said puzzlingly.

She looked at him with the smile still curled over her face. “Let’s take a walk!”

Howard arched his brows, blinked a few times and then nodded. “Very well, milady.” He took the tray from the table and closed the door behind him once Eirin made her way inside. Meanwhile down below near the gate into Noble’s Paradise a scowling Chance surveyed the guards patrolling across the entrance. He eyed over the two guards beside the gate and in his mind roundhouse kicked their faces in.

Figures, he thought to himself as he let out a dejected sigh, slumping beside the wall that caused his focus to stray to his hands. A thought jolted through his mind that caused a smile of growing hope to zip onto his face. He slid up the wall and ran through the alley to another adjacent street which was just as barren. The walls loomed over him like a noble sneering at a filthy peasant, the shadow it casted over the city seemingly twisting into a jeering face. Chance steeled his heart and stared back defiantly with his head high and mighty.

He spat out a mocking scoff as he crouched down like a frog. He bounced a few times as if preparing to leap but fell short to returning to his stance. His mind started to wander off while his eyes glazed in absence. The skies seemed to fall prey to darkness and Chance felt a shower of rain sweep over his back as the glaze of his eyes played tricks on his mind. A child soaked with rain and damp with blood kicked and screamed as another one dragged her away from a lifeless body laying on the side of the street. Echoes of unbridled weeping rang across his mind as he felt an arrow pierce his heart like heated steel through flesh.

The darkened blood of the weeping child bled into his vision. His teeth clenched hard while his brows furrowed, the glare of his eyes striking the wall with a look of indomitable rage as he tensed his muscles. He let out a beastly grunt and heaved himself upwards, rocketing towards the top of the wall.

One of the guards near the gate let out a yawn and looked up to the sky. He choked on his saliva when he saw a figure soaring closer to the top of the wall. “What the hell?” he screamed out, catching the attention of his peers. When they saw Chance pass over they scrambled to their feet and ran into Noble’s Paradise.

Chance laughed hysterically as he flew through the air, his hair catching the breeze from the flight and flailing wildly in the wind. As he continued soaring away from the wall his face dropped to a terrified frown while his heart sunk so low it felt like it weighed several billion tons. His laughing turned into abject horror when he found himself floating in the air as a seagull passed by to squawk at him. His heart pumped so fast his body seemed to reject the excess blood forcing him to choke on it. In lucid motion the air slowly swept over his face as he witnessed the descent beginning. His shrieking competed against the rush of heavy wind rippling through his body while his limbs flailed helplessly on his way down into Noble’s Paradise.

“Do you hear that?” Eirin asked to Howard, who held a yellow shade umbrella over her.

“Pardon, milady?” He looked around and held a hand near his ear. “What noise? I hear some sort of squeaking, if that is what you mean.”

Eirin shook her head. “It sounds like a mouse, but….” The young mistress gazed up into the sky and saw something in the distance falling at an incredible speed. She tilted her head and mused to herself. “What is that?”

“Get a move on!” One of the soldiers cried out to his fellow troops. “The intruder’s about to land!” They ran past the two, who watched with curiosity as the soldiers disappeared around the corner. The other nobles chattered amongst them, commenting that rats were falling out of the sky and that they should block the sky with smog to kill them. Eirin looked to Howard with a concerned frown.

“You don’t think that’s…?” Eirin looked to the falling object with slight terror and concern.

“It would be quite an adventure if it was,” Howard stated with slight enthusiasm. “Perhaps we can find out if milady is interested?”

“I’m only afraid of being right” she said, pouting her lips. Determination swept across her face while she balled her hands into fists. “So be it! Let’s check it out!”

They followed the soldiers, who continued chasing the figure falling from the sky. Every passing noble commented snidely, from jokes of flying rats to commoners growing wings to invade the terrace. Eirin’s blood coursed through her veins so quickly that her ears heated up and her attention keyed in solely on the falling anomaly.

“Milady, there!” Howard said as he pointed upwards. Eirin squinted, going wide eyed upon the recognition of Chance’s horrified face during his descent. She steeled her heart and sped up, getting closer to the soldiers and listening to them exchanging orders.

“He’s falling near the Ravonov Lodge!”

“Everyone get ready, he could be dangerous!”

“Only a commoner would try and fly into Noble’s Paradise! He’ll regret his foolish attempt!”

She gritted her teeth as Howard approached her from the side with the umbrella still in hand. “Please Milady, you might get sunburned.”

“There’s no time for that!” Eirin scolded. “He’s falling near my father’s lodge!”

“What?” Howard barked out in shock. “By your way, milady, with all due haste!”

They sped up so fast their feet left a thick trail of dust in their wake. The soldiers started sputtering and coughing, bumping into each other and letting out grunts of frustration as they tried to reassemble. Eirin felt herself become as light as a feather, her vision completely vivid as she and Howard sprung their way towards a large building constructed of solid oak logs with a large pink sign that said “Ravonov Lodge” in all uppercase lettering.

The inhabitants of Vescle find enough compassion with White Fog to trade with them for any interesting things they salvage from the hills of trash. Life is modest for both peoples and well enough to be fortunate the nobles do not sweep down and snuff them out with the heels of their expensive shoes. Everyone is content enough to keep themselves away from the nobles and make their livings as the troublesome freeloaders on Vacule Island.

In the western section of Vescle a dark shadow looms over the stone buildings which everyone has become accustomed to. The high stone walls watch over them, neutral observers unaffected by any plights they express. The sounds of cooking sizzle through the large, cobblestone street and trail an aroma of grilled fish through the air. Life in Vescle seems the same as any other day, with people busying themselves with their lives and children running around as if wrapping themselves in the scent.

“Chance!” Fols shouted behind him as he flipped a large trout with two pairs of chopsticks. “I need more!” His orange hair covered the back of his neck but was secured by a blue bandana. He stood at least 5″6 and cooked the trout before him like he’d been doing it for several years, switching between his chopsticks and seasonings while also taking orders from the patrons sitting near the counters. “Chance!” he whined with a pinch of singing. “Why you no get fish?”

“I got it!” Chance bellowed back as he unveiled himself from the door frame cloaked with a burlap curtain. He stood at 5″4 with his short blonde hair wrapped with a blue bandana. His navy blue eyes scanned over the restaurant, watching the people from the four large wooden tables enjoy themselves as they ate. The stools in front of the grilling counters were filled save for two sitting beside an unmanned grilling station. Chance slid the wrapped raw fish tucked underneath his arm toward Fols’ way and then took his place at the empty grilling station. “Yeesh, cry more,” Chance mumbled as he began preparing a plate with vegetable rolls.

“You’re so sweet,” Fols replied with a chuckle. He glanced to the entrance and smiled broadly, waving his hand at the two elderly patrons entering the establishment. “Welcome back you two!”

“Ah!” One of them mused with a toothless smile of his own. “Business seems to be good today.”

“Sure is! Take a seat and Chance’ll be right with you.” Fols took the grilled trout and placed it with a bed of rice and a little cup of black liquid. He smiled to the man sitting on one of the stools and slid the dish to him.

“Can’t wait until this day’s over,” Chance said wearily as he added some wasabi to the prepared plate of vegetable rolls before him. He took a small cup and poured some soy sauce into it, then dunked the wasabi into it and began mixing.

“You gonna run off to your gal upstairs?” Fols teased with a grin.

Chance flashed a scowl and blushed. “Whatever,” he retorted with some spite. “Favro says he found something interesting today on the shore.”

“He always says that,” Fols uttered nonchalantly as he plucked a salmon from his grill and dropped it over a bowl of rice with wasabi on the side. “Order up! Salmon and fried rice with wasabi!”

“He says this time it’s actually special.” Chance tossed some anchovies on his grill before sliding a bottle of soy sauce to Fols.

“He always says that too!” Fols shook his head as he poured the soy sauce into a small bowl and dunked some wasabi in it. He blended it with chopsticks as his other hand nabbed a small trout with a different pair and flung it on his grill. “You gotta make your own miracles if you wanna get out of here, you know that.”

Chance flashed another scowl. Fols slid the soy sauce over to him and he snatched it and jabbed the contents into a bowl of rice. Chance plopped the grilled anchovies on top of the bowl and yelled, “Order up! An hour of Fols lecturing me about stuff I know already! And anchovies on rice with soy sauce!”

The restaurant flooded with laughter, Fols laughing along with a vibrant smile on his face and Chance managing a small grin. Time passed by quickly, and when the last customer left the two let out a sigh of relief and removed their bandanas. They immersed themselves in the afterglow of the end of the day until Fols let out a mock gasp.

“Hang on,” Fols said as he listened to the entrance with an open palm behind his ear. “Did you hear that? Wait for it….”

A dark-skinned man with a fat face barged into the restaurant, a large linen sack draped over one shoulder that barely fit through the double doors. The dirtied clothes he wore looked like they never knew the warm touch of a washing machine while the thick black stubble of his facial hair was an obvious stranger to hygiene. String wrapped around his left black boot in order to keep the sole from ripping apart, but the boot would perhaps be relieved when that time finally comes.

“I come bearing gifts!” he shouted proudly as he stomped his way to the counters. Fols lifted his arms up and cheered goofily, closing his nasal passages and squishing his face as he gazed at Chance’s indomitable expression. Chance kept his eyes on his counter as he cleaned it, sweeping a rag elegantly over the wooden top, then focusing on the oil-streaked grilling plate. Once he found his station to his satisfaction he threw the rag into Fols’ face, simply let out a laugh and draped it over his shoulder.

“That’s not all, Chance,” Fols continued while restraining his enthusiasm. He gasped silently as he watched Favro slam the sack onto the counter. “He’s got something more special than usual!”

“I have something more special than usual!” Favro bellowed as he grinned triumphantly. He nodded to himself and moved to open the sack, but then paused and glared at Fols. “Hey! This time I mean it!”

“You’re so predictable,” Fols confessed, shaking his head. “You have a navy ship in there?”

“I do?” Favro peered into the sack and rummaged a hand through it. “I… Hey!” He growled at Fols, who started laughing again, this time clasping his forehead. Chance took the rag from Fols’ shoulder and tossed it in his face again.

“Let me see.” Chance nabbed the sack and looked through it, sweeping past broken chunks of wood, rusted pipes, some empty glass jars and a ripped leather boot. A moment later he sighed dejectedly. “Figures.”

“Ah, Chance,” Favro said pitifully. “Chance, Chance, Chance. Of all of my patrons you should have more faith in me!” He grinned smugly and then took a small, wooden chest out of his pocket. “This is the true treasure!”

Chance and Fols looked to each other before gazing at the chest. As Favro basked in his high sense of victory Chance took the chest and opened it. He pulled an apple from it and furrowed his brows, Fols tilting his head and tapping the apple a few times.

“An apple?” Chance rotated the fruit, following the strange stripes of green and yellow painted across it.

“Maybe it’s some mega fruit?” Fols questioned. “Who’d store this in a crappy box anyways?”

Favro chuckled without realizing what’s going on. “Have you no knowledge of the sea? Why this is a….” He looked to his empty palm and his eyes went wide. “OY!” He growled at Chance and then tried to snatch back his prize but failed. “Give that back!”

Chance glowered at him with a crooked scowl. “Your outstanding tab says this thing belongs to us.”

Fols chuckled again as he smiled at Favro, who stammered with excuses but gave up after a moment. “So what’s so special about an apple too fruity for its own good?” Fols inquired. Favro lit up as if he had spare aces to play against them.

“You may have the fruit,” Favro chortled while he shook his head. “but you don’t even know what it is!” He rubbed his index and thumb fingers together and continued. “Maybe for some grandle I could tell you that’s a Demon Fruit of ages past!”

Chance stared at Favro with a blank expression. Fols tilted his head at him and then looked to Chance. “Demon Fruit?” Fols pointed to the apple. “This thing?”

“Looks stupid.” Chance sighed as he shook his head. He dumped the apple into the chest and slid it underneath the counter. “But I can’t argue with its value. Maybe someone will actually care about it.”

“What?” Favro gasped, his jaw slacking low. His blood runs thin and he starts stammering again. “Wait, won’t you throw some cash to poor Favro’s way? Chance? Come on!”

Chance’s blank expression focused on Favro, whose fat lips formed a nervous smile as sweat started trickling down his grime-stained face. Chance’s face slowly turned into a fierce stare, one that glinted of daggers and cutthroats.

“Your outstanding tab is now cleared.” Chance stated with subtle venom. “Thank you for your patronage.”

Favro chuckled loudly, nodding frantically at the words. “You’re welcome!” he stuttered as he hoisted the sack over his shoulder and bowed repeatedly, quickly backpedalling toward the entrance while sweat continued trickling down his face. “I am happy to have come here and I wish you both good health!” His backside caused the double doors to swing open and he continued bowing even after coming outside. The hairs on the back of his neck still felt Chance’s glare tugging on them, and with a squeak Favro jerked his body to the side and ran for his life. The echoes of his hysterical chuckling slowly died out in the winds.

“Well,” Fols said contently as he flipped the rag over his shoulder. “So much for that.” He shut his eyes and rubbed them for a minute. “Who’d you think would wanna buy a rainbow fruit?” He opened his eyes and peered toward Chance. “Maybe we can pitch it to a noble and….”

Chance held the apple over his mouth and prepared to take a bite out of it. “Whoa hey!” Fols yelled out, snatching the apple as Chance chomped on air. “Are you crazy?”

“I never liked swimming anyways,” Chance admitted.

Fols tossed the apple into the chest and slammed it shut. “That’s not the point. What if you turn into some glob monster? Or maybe some sort of clam goblin?”

“Clam goblin?” Chance gave Fols a strange look.

“Okay, maybe not that, but what about a house centipede?” Fols winced a bit as the color from Chance’s skin turned pale.

“Uh,” Chance managed to utter as his body freezes up. “Good call.” He stared at the chest and swallowed a knot. “But, even so it’s better than this place.”

Fols slapped two fingers against Chance’s forehead. “Liar. What about Eirin?”

Chance bit his tongue and rubbed his forehead. He looked away sullenly and mumbled something.

“What was that?” Fols said expectantly with a hand behind his ear. “I couldn’t hear that.”

“I said shut up!” Chance snatched the chest and pocketed it. Fols placed his hands on his hips and watched Chance stalk through the burlap curtain with a lowered head.

“Chance,” Fols called out softly as he entered the doorway. “I know what you’re thinking but think about it very carefully.” He followed Chance through a small hallway littered with various supplies for the restaurant. They passed a freezer door to the right and through another burlap curtain, entering a room big enough for one person with a ladder in the bottom right corner leading to an attic. Bookshelves towered over the left wall while a simple wooden desk rested near the upper wall just below the only window for the room.

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Chance barked out matter-of-factly as he plopped onto the bed beside the desk. “I know a lot more than you do and I know the risks.” He tossed the chest onto the desk and slipped his work shirt off.

Fols scoffed. “Says the person who tried to eat a fruit he’s only read about in textbooks! Do you even know what kind of fruit that is?”

“An apple.” Chance tossed his work pants at Fols and put on a pair of silk pajamas. “I appreciate you stopping me from eating it, but this just leaves me time to find out what kind of abilities this fruit can give me.”

“Bah!” Fols snatched the work pants and hurled them at Chance, who catches them without a worry on his face. “So be it. I hope you know what you’re doing then. Just don’t come crying to me when you find trouble on dry land!”

“I think the worst thing about these Demon Fruits is not being able to utilize the gifts they give you.” Chance shrugged. “Not like I can’t take care of myself anyways.”

Fols laughed spitefully. “You would say that, mister ‘I learn from my mistakes all the time’!”

“Night, Fols.” Chance said as he walked to one of the bookshelves and plucked a book out. Fols shook his head and then waved a hand before climbing up the ladder and shut the attic door. Chance slid an oil lamp near the bedside and lit it, then climbed into the bed and nestled himself near the light for warmth. He opened the book and flipped halfway through, reading deeply as the oil of the lamp burned into the night. Hours passed before he realizes how much reading he’s gotten done and prepares to sleep until his hand accidentally flips the page.

He furrowed his brows at the page and leaned onto the wall to continue reading. The section reads, “Demon Fruit Mythology: A Devil’s Gambit.” All sorts of various fruits are shown with patterns similar to the apple save for the different colors and how they’re painted across the fruits. The text foretells of various abilities when the fruit of choice is consumed, from being able to control the elements to becoming invisible or manipulating one’s body to become as hard as steel or as stretchy as rubber. Chance’s rapid absorption of this knowledge comes to a stop as the apple’s details are unveiled.

“Reflex fruit?” he questioned to himself. The text explains the potencies of the fruit, allowing the person who consumes it to gain a great amount of dexterity without the weakening of the senses. The oldest man would find himself being able to excel against the fittest of soldiers without breaking a sweat.

“Huh,” Chance mused to himself. He looked to the chest, peering warily at it as his hand took it from the desk and placed it onto his lap. His heart slowly quickened as he opened it and took the apple out. He inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled, afterwards referring to the book once more for any other information he missed.

“It will take several hours for the ability to come into effect,” he mouthed slowly to himself as he also tried to steady his heart. “The researchers of this book cannot vouch for their taste, so prepare as needed.” He cringed as his eyes moved to the apple again. After a deep breath he threw caution to the wind and gulped the apple down, sparing no seconds to admire the horrid taste of fish heads creeping down his throat. He felt his face turn pale and green as his stomach churned rebelliously. He clutched his stomach, letting out a sickening groan and then snuffing the light out while haphazardly tossing the book onto the desk afterwards. He wrapped his blanket around his body and curled into a ball while Fols grinned under his sheets in the attic.

“Hope you make good use of whatever,” he whispered to himself as Chance’s stomach gurgled loudly once more. Fols brightened his grin into a smile, stifling his chuckles in order to hear the cacophony of gurgling and groaning below sing him to sleep.

Drown under waves of music,
How can I resist?
Singe my ears with your luster
And muster up some cords with your fingertips
As they play beside my death bed!

Herald the end of the world,
With strings and trumpets galore,
And beset the earth in flames
As the guilty call out for more!

Can’t you hear them all?
An instrument to every cause,
It’s like they’re coming for you,
To snap with their vice-like jaws!

Choke me to death,
And bring forth misery,
Under the company of notes that screech like harpies,
And drown the world in music,
And never look back,
But smile.

Imagination soars even beyond Mars
Yet its warmth closens to my arms
Like I could grasp it.

But,
I must muse.
Better for humans to admire than acquire?
But,
The imagination must flow, you know.
Or else what new places shall we go?

Beyond the stars,
A different galaxy,
To its populace and streams
That dream and teem with life.

Bring they to our minds,
And weave thoughts of hope
To make another soul whisper,
And another scream.

The imagination flows, you know.
Too many new places to go.

Sittin’ in his house, silent.
Took a swig of liquor and sighed.
Broke the bottle against the wall and made pictured memories fall.
Strummed his guitar and twanged it slowly,
Slammed it against the floor,
Cursed the world and slept the day away,
Done with it.

Migrain surging through my head.
Brought a beer from the fridge.
Wallowed in silence again, cursing,
Trying to pick up pictured memories.
Cuttin’ fingers at the shards,
Blades sinking deep, grittin’ teeth.
Glued everything back together with a swig and medicine,
But the day wasn’t done just yet.

Knock on the door.
Gentle lady, prim and proper;
Savage man, ragged and wild;
Blue to brown and blonde to black,
both silent, starin’ each other back.
Gentle smile says the lady.
Pictured memory, retorts the man.
Man shuts the door, heavy heart light,
Beer goes away, staying cold overnight;
Mess cleaned up, swept under the rug,
Lady giggles gleefully, spotting it.
Man chuckles deep, soul freeing.

Wagon’s movin’ up, though ramp so steep.
Buffalo’s headin’ home in the midwestern heat.
Cowboy’s done for the day by the lady,
Cowboy’s done for the day, makin’ pictured memories.