Enjoy!
Peace and blessings
Eric Rawlinson
20110405)
Surt's Forge
Chapter 1
Her feet were blistered from walking and her shoulders ached from the weight of the bags she carried. Her face stung from yet another bruise on her cheek. She wanted to sit, to rest, but more than anything, she wanted to eat. Her stomach rumbled from hunger that she could not satisfy as the little money that she saved she spent only hours before to get here: The big city.
Mud covered everything in this time of rain and snow. The streets, the snow and the mud all mixed together to create the bastard child of nature, slush which soaked into her shoes and formed around her frost bitten ankles with every step she took.
The stores were no less dirty, towering over her with their windows barricaded by spiral bars that supposedly protected the stores from thieves, but only succeeded in scaring others. The window displays were full of pretty products and shinning lights, appealing to the eyes of happy shoppers.
Mud covered everything in this time of rain and snow. The streets, the snow and the mud all mixed together to create the bastard child of nature, slush which soaked into her shoes and formed around her frost bitten ankles with every step she took.
The stores were no less dirty, towering over her with their windows barricaded by spiral bars that supposedly protected the stores from thieves, but only succeeded in scaring others. The window displays were full of pretty products and shinning lights, appealing to the eyes of happy shoppers.
“Come in and rest. Come in, and buy our lovely products.”
She ignored their call. She had nothing to give for the beauty products that would get her the boyfriend, for the gadgets that would make her cool, or for the food to fill her empty stomach. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, which morphed her visage, showing her ‘how she could look with new “Rejuvenate” Facial Lotion’, before replacing it back to the small faced blond, with a large bruise on her green eye, blood shot from crying and lack of sleep. Her unkempt hair that she used to hide her ugly face. Her gangly frame looked as if it would collapse beneath her. She turned away before the mirror morphed her image again.
The bags on her back contained the last of her possessions and the things she stole while her mother was passed out from another drug induced stupor and her step-father at yet another business appointment. Then she ran to the nearest bus station, turned over her money and fled here.
She grimaced as she continued to walk down the street until she came to the store that she was looking for. She remembered the advertisement clearly. “One bedroom apartment, non-smoker pets allowed, price negotiable.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled newspaper clipping and looked at the description again before looking back up.
The store did not shine like the others, with inviting lights that screamed, “Buy our products”! The only light in the window seemed to come from one dull orange tube. The window display did not look into the store itself, but contained a strange assortment of evil looking statues, a suit of armor and one or two swords. Three statues in particular caught her eye. Three small gargoyles sitting in a row one shading its eyes as if to see better, one cupping its ears to hear and one calling out in its silent gossip. They said, “I see all, I hear all and I tell everyone.” She was a little taken aback by this, but what her eyes saw next amazed her. A large sword framed in a dark bordered case, its blade seemed to flicker with an inner fire burning in its soul. The hilt of the blade was encrusted with a large ruby-coloured stone that shone brilliantly despite the dim light and it appeared to her to be watching her every movement.
Trying to force her gaze away from the stone she backed up to look at the store’s name. The words “SURT’S FORGE” were written in a neon-purple light over the window. She peered overtop of the sign and saw windows of the apartments above. She hoped one of those windows would be her new home. Taking a big gulp of what little pride she had left, she marched up to the door, pulled the Apartment for rent sign out of the window and marched into the store.
The store did not seem rather large and looked to her like any other sword store. There were cases of statues and jewelry clustered in groups and formed a barrier at the back of the store with more display cases. The walls hung with an array of ugly swords that shinned like beacons of doom at her approach. Skull statues, more gargoyles, wolves, demons, dragons and warriors locked in deadly combat surrounded her, watching and judging her as the stone had done, wondering what she would do.
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves as she began to move through the maze of statues, displays of armor from every culture she could imagine, and more swords. At the back of the store she spied a person of about seventeen stood flipping through a magazine. His long black hair hung loosely at his sides, tossed up in the middle and flowed over his shoulders as his head moved back and forth, scanning the pages with his eyes. Timidly, she slipped up to the counter and cleared her throat.
“Um, excuse me.” She croaked.
The boy grunted and his eyes rose to meet hers. She fought hard not to gasp. The boy’s eyes were the color of blood and his stare sent shivers up and down her spin. She took a second to strengthen herself, than realized it had been a minute since she had spoken, and the boy was still staring at her. She raised the sign as if it were a shield between her and this demonic boy.
“Can I talk to the owner about renting the room?” She squeaked, trying to sound brave and professional.
“You may.” The boy gargled, in a way that made her believe the boy must have something wrong with his throat.
She waited expectantly but the boy didn’t move a muscle and continued to stare straight at her, as if to will her to speak again. She felt a tremble run up her left leg, the way it always was when she was anxious. But she strengthened her resolve once again. She was in no mood for playing games.
“Well, where is he…she?” She asked, trying to sound professional.
“You are staring at him.” The boy growled.
This set off an explosion in her mind. This boy was not exactly her idea of a future landlord, but she started to ramble immediately.
“Oh, well hi, I’d just like to possibly rent out the room that you have upstairs or if it is convenient with you I can…”
The boy’s hand launched up from the counter and lightly touched the tip of her chin, which caused her to shut up. She felt the tips of his fingers were hot with a hidden fire inside them. The boy looked deep into her eyes the fire seeming to intensify with his gaze. Then slowly he removed his finger and reached into his pocket.
“So,” The boy mused in his low growl as he pulled a long pipe from his pocket, wiping it with his sleeve, “From what I gathered from your… expression, you are anxiously looking for somewhere to stay, hoping that maybe I will take you in.” He placed the pipe between his lips as he dug into his pockets and pulled out a lighter. “Before I agree however, I must know a couple of things. Are you running from something? Be truthful. Or do not, which ever you prefer. Just know that I will know.” He light the end of his pipe with a match and took a big breath inward.
She looked at the boy questioningly for a moment. How could this boy possibly… But the boy’s gaze penetrated into her eyes once again that commanded a response.
But it was not the same glare that her stepfather always gave her, asking where she had been and who she had talked to before he would smack her and ground her. It was a glare of someone who was judging her, almost daring her to tell a lie. It was not the same glare that was followed by pain, humiliation and crying herself to sleep at night. This boy, whoever he was, was testing her, and if she answered incorrectly then she would have to go somewhere else. But she was not going to fail on her first attempt at escape. She was not going to be soft. She made it this far and she is not going to turn back.
She looked straight into the boy’s eyes and she bravely whispered the truth. “Yes.”
The boy grimaced, but rolled his head up so that he face was level with hers. He puffed out a cloud of purple smoke from his mouth, “You are seek sanctuary, not an apartment. Have you money for sanctuary?”
She looked down at her tattered clothes, remembering the money that she had and spent. How could she pay? She had never thought about it. She had been so eager to run away that she never thought about paying.
But before she could speak, the boy’s eyes closed and he put his thumb and index fingers of his right hand over his temples. “Employment too.” He reached under the desk and pulled out two digital cartridges from drawer. He removed the cartridge from the digital page and placed the new cartridges in. The page flashed, and words scrolled across the page rapidly. “Here is your contract. Read it carefully and sign here…” He handed her a digital pen.
Her eyes scanned the page, her heart beginning to thump harder in her chest. This was it. She made it. Nothing out of the ordinary, mostly what the advertisement had said and the contract for her working there. She picked up the pen and carefully signed her name. She half expected lightning to flash or something foreboding to happen. When nothing did, she almost sighed as she handed the page back.
She ignored their call. She had nothing to give for the beauty products that would get her the boyfriend, for the gadgets that would make her cool, or for the food to fill her empty stomach. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, which morphed her visage, showing her ‘how she could look with new “Rejuvenate” Facial Lotion’, before replacing it back to the small faced blond, with a large bruise on her green eye, blood shot from crying and lack of sleep. Her unkempt hair that she used to hide her ugly face. Her gangly frame looked as if it would collapse beneath her. She turned away before the mirror morphed her image again.
The bags on her back contained the last of her possessions and the things she stole while her mother was passed out from another drug induced stupor and her step-father at yet another business appointment. Then she ran to the nearest bus station, turned over her money and fled here.
She grimaced as she continued to walk down the street until she came to the store that she was looking for. She remembered the advertisement clearly. “One bedroom apartment, non-smoker pets allowed, price negotiable.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled newspaper clipping and looked at the description again before looking back up.
The store did not shine like the others, with inviting lights that screamed, “Buy our products”! The only light in the window seemed to come from one dull orange tube. The window display did not look into the store itself, but contained a strange assortment of evil looking statues, a suit of armor and one or two swords. Three statues in particular caught her eye. Three small gargoyles sitting in a row one shading its eyes as if to see better, one cupping its ears to hear and one calling out in its silent gossip. They said, “I see all, I hear all and I tell everyone.” She was a little taken aback by this, but what her eyes saw next amazed her. A large sword framed in a dark bordered case, its blade seemed to flicker with an inner fire burning in its soul. The hilt of the blade was encrusted with a large ruby-coloured stone that shone brilliantly despite the dim light and it appeared to her to be watching her every movement.
Trying to force her gaze away from the stone she backed up to look at the store’s name. The words “SURT’S FORGE” were written in a neon-purple light over the window. She peered overtop of the sign and saw windows of the apartments above. She hoped one of those windows would be her new home. Taking a big gulp of what little pride she had left, she marched up to the door, pulled the Apartment for rent sign out of the window and marched into the store.
The store did not seem rather large and looked to her like any other sword store. There were cases of statues and jewelry clustered in groups and formed a barrier at the back of the store with more display cases. The walls hung with an array of ugly swords that shinned like beacons of doom at her approach. Skull statues, more gargoyles, wolves, demons, dragons and warriors locked in deadly combat surrounded her, watching and judging her as the stone had done, wondering what she would do.
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves as she began to move through the maze of statues, displays of armor from every culture she could imagine, and more swords. At the back of the store she spied a person of about seventeen stood flipping through a magazine. His long black hair hung loosely at his sides, tossed up in the middle and flowed over his shoulders as his head moved back and forth, scanning the pages with his eyes. Timidly, she slipped up to the counter and cleared her throat.
“Um, excuse me.” She croaked.
The boy grunted and his eyes rose to meet hers. She fought hard not to gasp. The boy’s eyes were the color of blood and his stare sent shivers up and down her spin. She took a second to strengthen herself, than realized it had been a minute since she had spoken, and the boy was still staring at her. She raised the sign as if it were a shield between her and this demonic boy.
“Can I talk to the owner about renting the room?” She squeaked, trying to sound brave and professional.
“You may.” The boy gargled, in a way that made her believe the boy must have something wrong with his throat.
She waited expectantly but the boy didn’t move a muscle and continued to stare straight at her, as if to will her to speak again. She felt a tremble run up her left leg, the way it always was when she was anxious. But she strengthened her resolve once again. She was in no mood for playing games.
“Well, where is he…she?” She asked, trying to sound professional.
“You are staring at him.” The boy growled.
This set off an explosion in her mind. This boy was not exactly her idea of a future landlord, but she started to ramble immediately.
“Oh, well hi, I’d just like to possibly rent out the room that you have upstairs or if it is convenient with you I can…”
The boy’s hand launched up from the counter and lightly touched the tip of her chin, which caused her to shut up. She felt the tips of his fingers were hot with a hidden fire inside them. The boy looked deep into her eyes the fire seeming to intensify with his gaze. Then slowly he removed his finger and reached into his pocket.
“So,” The boy mused in his low growl as he pulled a long pipe from his pocket, wiping it with his sleeve, “From what I gathered from your… expression, you are anxiously looking for somewhere to stay, hoping that maybe I will take you in.” He placed the pipe between his lips as he dug into his pockets and pulled out a lighter. “Before I agree however, I must know a couple of things. Are you running from something? Be truthful. Or do not, which ever you prefer. Just know that I will know.” He light the end of his pipe with a match and took a big breath inward.
She looked at the boy questioningly for a moment. How could this boy possibly… But the boy’s gaze penetrated into her eyes once again that commanded a response.
But it was not the same glare that her stepfather always gave her, asking where she had been and who she had talked to before he would smack her and ground her. It was a glare of someone who was judging her, almost daring her to tell a lie. It was not the same glare that was followed by pain, humiliation and crying herself to sleep at night. This boy, whoever he was, was testing her, and if she answered incorrectly then she would have to go somewhere else. But she was not going to fail on her first attempt at escape. She was not going to be soft. She made it this far and she is not going to turn back.
She looked straight into the boy’s eyes and she bravely whispered the truth. “Yes.”
The boy grimaced, but rolled his head up so that he face was level with hers. He puffed out a cloud of purple smoke from his mouth, “You are seek sanctuary, not an apartment. Have you money for sanctuary?”
She looked down at her tattered clothes, remembering the money that she had and spent. How could she pay? She had never thought about it. She had been so eager to run away that she never thought about paying.
But before she could speak, the boy’s eyes closed and he put his thumb and index fingers of his right hand over his temples. “Employment too.” He reached under the desk and pulled out two digital cartridges from drawer. He removed the cartridge from the digital page and placed the new cartridges in. The page flashed, and words scrolled across the page rapidly. “Here is your contract. Read it carefully and sign here…” He handed her a digital pen.
Her eyes scanned the page, her heart beginning to thump harder in her chest. This was it. She made it. Nothing out of the ordinary, mostly what the advertisement had said and the contract for her working there. She picked up the pen and carefully signed her name. She half expected lightning to flash or something foreboding to happen. When nothing did, she almost sighed as she handed the page back.
The boy grimaced once again but the next face was one of resolute. He took the page from her and stuck out his hand. “Welcome to the Forge, Miss…?”
“Oh,” She blushed and took his hand. It was warm to the touch and comforting to her, despite its dirty appearance and coarseness. “Selma. Selma Faunton.”
The boy turned his head as he opened the door to the back. “Lilith!” He called over his shoulder. “Come here for a minute.”
A tall woman in her mid-twenties suddenly appeared in the doorway. She walked up to Selma and brushed her red hair out of her green eyes before wiping her hands on her smock. She smiled at Selma before turning back to the boy.
“Yes? How may I help you?” Lilith asked sweetly, her smooth voice a pleasant change from the boy’s continuous rasp.
“Take Selma up to the room and show her around. She is the new boarder, and the new employee.” The boy said, his red fingers plunged the old cartridge back into the page and his eyes went back to it without a second glance.
“Oh,” She blushed and took his hand. It was warm to the touch and comforting to her, despite its dirty appearance and coarseness. “Selma. Selma Faunton.”
The boy turned his head as he opened the door to the back. “Lilith!” He called over his shoulder. “Come here for a minute.”
A tall woman in her mid-twenties suddenly appeared in the doorway. She walked up to Selma and brushed her red hair out of her green eyes before wiping her hands on her smock. She smiled at Selma before turning back to the boy.
“Yes? How may I help you?” Lilith asked sweetly, her smooth voice a pleasant change from the boy’s continuous rasp.
“Take Selma up to the room and show her around. She is the new boarder, and the new employee.” The boy said, his red fingers plunged the old cartridge back into the page and his eyes went back to it without a second glance.
Lilith’s small mouth turned upward into a smile as she turned looked at Selma, looking over her new, gawky companion.
“Well come on, I’ll show you round back and up the stairs.” Lilith mumbled, grabbing the smaller of the two bags and turning to leave the room.
Selma picked up a bag herself and began to follow Lilith through the door. As an afterthought, she turned back to the boy. “Thank you…Mister?”
The boy still faced away from her as he took another long drag from his pipe before exhaling a bellow of purple smoke. He turned his head so that only one of his fire red eyes faced her.
“Surt. Just Surt.”
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