Eternal Winter

Forgotten Identity: Part I

The inside of the tavern was warm. My drink steamed in its wooden mug. I stared as I pushed it around on the table, thinking of my next move. A scream blared through the space and I jumped, sloshing the drink. My head whipped towards the back of the building, where the sound came from. The barkeeper bore dead eyes in my direction whilst continuing to wash out cups with a rag. I glanced around the tavern to see other guests hunker down in their seats, ignoring the sound, even as it repeated.

I clicked my tongue and flicked a silver coin on the table I vacated. "This is disgusting," I muttered as I raced through the front door. To my left was a narrow alleyway that opened at the back. I hopped over the garbage bins that blocked the way and hurried between the grimy brick walls.

By the time I arrived, the screams had died down to whimpers that emanated from a small figure crumpled in the fetal position. The mushy, gray snow was flung up with each kick the surrounding assailants drove into the person.

"We're waiting for ye wages, leech!" one yelled. "Any longer and Master'll take your head as payment."

I tugged my cloak's hood tighter around my face before I approached with an unsheathed long dagger. "I believe that's enough, gentlemen," I growled.

Two of the three stopped long enough to watch my approach with slitted eyes and tight lips. They locked onto the weapon I wielded. The third glanced to me and scoffed, "It sure is enough for you to see. Git along now," He shook a fist in my direction. "Else ye will join 'im."

He didn't wait for any reply before returning to give another blow to the huddled figure. My heart beat heavily against my ribcage with each step I moved closer. With the eyes on me, I felt constricted. I lifted my dagger and pressed the point against the back of the attacker, whilst keeping a daring eye on the other two who remained still. "I said," through gritted teeth, "That's enough."

His body stilled. At the pointed pressure, he finally recognized I wasn't bluffing or acting tough. He threw me a glare over his shoulder that drilled into me. His foot reared back for one more, defiant, kick. I twisted and set myself between the body and him. My hand clutched my dagger, laid against my forearm, and held it less than an inch from his throat. My foot seated between his legs, blocking his trajectory and sitting too close for comfort.

I noticed his Adam's apple bob in his throat. He took a step away with palms facing me. His lip curled up in a snarl, but he just spit at the ground and backed away. "Fine, it's yer problem."

The three of them hobbled away and around a bend. The slushing of the snow followed them. I waited until it grew distant enough to turn my back. I crouched down to the dirtied body. I set a gloved hand against their back. It instinctually flinched away from my touch. I swallowed the dry lump in my throat and began to brush the gray snow off the still but breathing body. At my touch, the snow quickly dispersed. After another moment, the head peered out from under their arms. Two small, wide eyes stared at me. I clenched my jaw and held out a hand to the child.

The boy hesitantly accepted. There was a jolt through my mind when his hand grabbed mine. A momentary flare in my vision as unrecognizable pictures flashed by. I blinked once and it cleared. A mild ache spread across my forehead. I tamped it down and pulled the boy to his feet.

He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. Puffs of his breath in the air came one after another. He blew into his hands and kept his face down, away from me. I cleared my throat. "Uh, you should...probably go inside. It's cold."

He eyed me for a moment. Then, his head went back down, and he began to shuffle away. His head looked fine, but the way his clothes rumpled and he walked, it would be a rough few days following. I scratched at my head, uncomfortable at seeing the small, coatless back move away. Before any better sense stopped me, I shouted, "Hey, uh, kid?"

He paused. I could hear him mumble under his breath, "I'm 12."

I cocked my head. "Isn't 12 still a child?"

He looked over his shoulder at me. "What're you gonna do about it? Report me?" he sighed and turned away, moving farther away. "Go ahead. See if anyone cares."

"Hey, wait!" I called, hurrying up to him. "I was just, y'know, wondering about your name?"

He stopped and stared at me with a scrunched face. "My name? Why? Are you going to curse me?"

"Curse you?" I gasped. "Why would you think that?"

"Never mind," he sighed and brushed passed me. "But, you're new to Bonté, aren't you?" He glanced over his shoulder to see me behind him yet.

I winced. "Is it that easy to tell?"

He hung his head for another moment. "Follow me if you need somewhere to stay..." he said. In a hushed voice he added, "As thanks."

A slight smile crept up as I went after him down different streets and avenues, most of the shops closing up and traffic slowing down with the late hour of the day. Finally, we arrived in front of a shoemaker's store. The boy scrapped his boots on the edge of the step as he went inside. He glanced around the shop with a finger out to me to wait. Then, he nodded and gestured me through.

We silently crept up the stairs, followed by a faint smell of polish and leather. I followed the boy's example and avoided the creaky parts. Once up the two flights of stairs, we arrived at a small door. I had to hunch over to fit through. The inside was dark and chilled, but greatly warmer than the outdoors. There was a circular window that faced over the street below with the last dregs of light coming through as the only light source. The boy grabbed a small, gas lantern next to the door and lit it before pulling the drapes over the window.

"Mr. Giovelli doesn't like me to waste lantern fuel. I'll put it out once you're set," he said, and hung the light from a long wire in the center. The light swung gently and cast dim shadows around the room. The boy pointed to a mattress that laid in to one side and a small set of drawers with a bookcase on the opposite side. "That's my bed with all the blankets, and there's clean water on the shelves. There's nothing worth stealing, either. It's all hand-me-downs and spares." He went and pulled two blankets from the bundle at the foot of the mattress. "So...yeah. Here you go," he said, holding out the blankets to me.

I grabbed hold and murmured a 'thanks.' I moved to the right of the doorway and hunkered down in the corner. I unbuckled my gear belt and laid my fur-lined cloak over the equipment next to me. Shortly after, the boy blew out the light. I could hear him move passed towards the door. "Lyra," I quipped.

He paused, the door open and dim light spilled over him, accentuating his confusion in bright, brown eyes. "What?"

I looked up at him and smiled, though I doubted he could see. "Lyra of Olym. That's my name."

"Olym, the Forbidden World?" he asked, incredulous. His eyes momentarily sparked with life.

"I suppose some people call it that," I replied. "It's my home."

He slowly nodded and took a step forward hesitantly. "Samuel," he murmured. He then scurried out the door and back down the stairs.

Once he disappeared, I leaned back against the wood. I balled the corner of the blanket in my fist and held tight for a few moments. There was a pit in my stomach that didn't go away. There was something said about a 'Master' earlier by the assailants. Was that the same as the Dark Master I pursued? It could have been a coincidence. After all, I had already learned the Dark Master wasn't anywhere near the north anymore. If there was any connection at all, though... I glanced towards the darkened door, a tiny bit of yellow light spilled through the crack at its base. I would have to ask Samuel more until I knew for sure.