Sainthood

Posted: August 2, 2007 in Brawl, Dark, Fiction, Sci-Fi

Chapter 8

She broke the connection between us, quickly looking away from my gaze.
“Why are your eyes red?”
She was silent for a moment.
“That’s a long story. In short, I’m not really from here. I- well let’s just say that everyone who comes here changes.”
“So you’re not really a Saint?”
“Not in the literal sense, no…Come. Let’s go into town.”
She started to walk away from the small clearing, and I grabbed her shoulder roughly.
“Hey!”
“Look. I know you’re into this whole ‘mysterious bitch’ thing, but it’s getting old. If you want me to keep following you you’re going to have to explain some shit, alright?”
“Get off me.” Her tone was deadly; I released her shoulder. “If you come with me, everything will be explained. I promise that.” I snorted derisively and she locked her fiery stare onto me again.
“I promise.”
Staring in to those deep pits of crimson I slowly nodded.
“OK. Let’s go.”
We walked out of the clearing, past the large shrubs bordering the place into the “city” of Da Vinci. It was not an impressive sight, merely a sort of large village with hundreds of bedraggled tents filling its boundaries. The tents appeared to be uniform colors, or maybe it was simply that all were so dirty that it mattered not what they were originally colored.
One such mud-splattered dwelling was our destination. It was nearly indistinguishable from all the others except for the thin man curled up on a small armchair right outside of the tent. As we got closer I noted his dark, spiky hair and deep brown eyes; a thin layer of gloomy stubble ran across his pale face.
He yawned, opening his mouth wide and arching his back; his teeth were white and straight, with elongated and delicately pointy canines that were nearly feline in design. He stood as we approached, stretching his arms out. He wore dark jeans and a black and white striped sweatshirt that he folded his arms across.
Kylie reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, brightly colored package. Unwrapping it, she pulled out a chocolate chip cookie and handed it to the man, who smiled without revealing his teeth. He nibbled on the treat as he regarded our slightly unkempt figures.
“Hello Cat,” Kylie said cautiously.
“Hey Lucy.” Lucy? “Who’s this?” His tone was cheery, but uncharacteristically so, as though he was making a great effort to supress feelings of sadness and grief.
“A friend. Is Sol in?”
“No, but he’ll be back in a little while. Why don’t you wait inside until he comes?” The cookie disappeared completely into his mouth.
“Alright.”
Kylie quickly ducked inside, but Cat stopped me before I could follow. He bent to my ear and whispered to me.
“Don’t trust her.”
Great. More cryptic bullshit to worry about. I gave Cat a strange look and went into the tent.
The tent itself was much more interesting than the dreary outside, with bright strings woven around the space in a such a beautiful fashion that I couldn’t stop looking around. Eventually I saw that all of the different threads of color formed a pattern of repeating suns and moons that seemed to revolve around the small tent, every object a different shade of deep silver or hot gold.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” I turned to the sound of Kylie’s soft voice, watching the celestial pictures whirl around me. For once her red gaze was not empty and expressionless, but filled with wonder at her surroundings.
She was seated in a small loveseat beneath a huge tapestry of a fiery vermillion sun and a glowingly silver crescent moon entwined together. The tapestry itself was well-weathered, as though it had seen better times, but it was still a sight to behold.
I tore myself away from the amazing work of art and glared into her eyes, still alive with a spark of the glamour that filled the room.
“So this Sol guy will answer my questions?”
“Yes…” Her tone was dreamy.
“OK…” I pause for a moment before asking, “Why did Cat call you Lucy?”
She stiffened, and her eyes returned to their impenetrable, empty state.
“I joined the Saints a short time ago. Most of the others call me Lucy as a joke, because of my eyes…” She laughed bitterly. “Short for Lucifer.”
The fabric covering the doorway was suddenly pushed aside.
“I don’t care what he looks like! No Brawler would have run from the Officers even if his life was threatened!”
A large man burst into the room, shortly followed by Cat. To call the man magnificent would be doing him injustice. His hair was shoulder-length and fiery orange shot with golden streaks. His face was ruggedly handsome, chiseled with age and hardened with experience. A tattoo of a fiery sun much like the one on the tapestry decorated his right cheek. he gave me a look of apprehension as he entered and sat, cross-legged, on the floor. An air of command automatically issued from him; I quicky sat down next to Kylie, who seemed to shrink at the presence of the man.
Oddly enough, he was clad in a Kevlar vest over a white t-shirt and black jeans. Strapped to his belt was a short sword with another sun on the pommel, which he was drumming his fingers on.
“My name is Sol.” The tapping sounds intensified. “You’ve got ten seconds to explain who the hell you are and why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

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Comments
  1. goodnightcat says:

    I like the flow of creativity in this. Cat, cool character 😉

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