Kuro: A Land in Eternal Night

Chapter 25.2: The Port Town of Umi

The Light Spires were dimly lit, giving the Izakaya a homey appearance. Smoke poured in continuously from the open grill, and fresh fish, an Umi specialty, was being carefully prepared on the long wooden counter. Old man Goro was carefully preparing the fish, his hands deftly moving in the dim light. There were no wasted movements in the old man's art. His hands were calm and collected as he took the fish and mated it with rice, quickly brushing on some vinegar, to make the fish shine. Goro's son Eiji manned the grill. Pieces of meat and chicken were placed on tiny skewers and laid on the grill, never in large quantities, just enough to go around. That was part of the skill and the philosophy. The food was to accompany the drink and not the other way around. The pair hardly looked up from their tasks. Ellie always admired their dedication, slaving away despite the smoke and the grime. Ellie had minded the way she smelled when she had first started, but she gradually found she rather liked the warm, earthy smell from the grill.

A new group of companions walked through the door – another odd group of travelers. The leader this time was a man, handsome in the faded light, like the beautiful light of a flame about to go out, the glowing embers spent, with his hair hanging all around his face. Rugged, wild, but strangely restrained, as if he lived an ascetic life, the life of a hermit in the wilderness. This stranger would be fine without the usual creature comforts, she decided. Still, he was wildly attractive. She found herself drawn to the grim face with the finely chiseled features and the brooding eyes, and to the calm but gentle way he surveyed the environment. This was not a man to be trifled with, either. At his side, she spotted a sword, its wooden sheath worn, the wood speckled in several places, the hilt's wrapping frayed and tattered.

Behind him were two women in white robes, one walking with a visible limp and leaning heavily on her staff, the second girl following closely behind, her cloak's hood pulled up over her bowed head, her face covered with a white piece of parchment on which were written characters Ellie did not recognize. The girl with a limp had delicate features, strangely beautiful and frightening at the same time. Her complexion, pale as milk in the dim light, was stretched over tight, gaunt and bony features. Her dark hair was braided neatly, a bit odd considering most travelers cared not for their appearance. A hint of sharp teeth peered out from a soft, almost alluring mouth with lips as red as rubies. There was sadness in her expression, but also strength. Ellie decided the young woman could not have been more than sixteen or seventeen, but there was an unusual maturity, an almost tired look to her face that almost looked as though the eyes had seen far too much for their age. It was quite a combination. Ellie wondered what the origin of the young woman was.

Ellie was fascinated by the girl whose face was covered with paper. She tried to catch a glimpse of the face underneath the veil. For a brief moment, she thought she spied a young woman, certainly one of the most beautiful she had laid her eyes on.

So focused was Ellie on the pair of girls that she almost missed the last member of the party, a diminutive and utterly unremarkable girl. She could not have been more than five feet tall, with messy matted hair and clothing that could only be described as mangy. Ellie wondered why such a girl would have found herself in such extraordinary company.

The group moved to a table nearer the edge of the room, trying to draw as little attention as possible. The white robes of the girls rustled on the old wooden floors of the Izakaya. Ellie felt remorseful she hadn't done a more diligent job of cleaning floors earlier, though the girls didn't seem to mind one bit. If nothing else, they looked rather detached from everything – the scene, the patrons, the Izakaya itself.

It was then that Ellie noticed something else – the woman with the black cloak who had walked in about an hour ago was staring intently at the party. Ellie had not noticed it then, but under the glow of the Light Spires, the woman's hair was silver.

Silver hair. Ellie had to repeat it to herself quietly. She had never seen anyone with silver hair in her life. The silver in the woman's locks appeared to glint in the darkness, and there was a dangerous edge in those eyes. Hatred, Ellie decided. Those were vengeful eyes. She looked around, her heart beating suddenly faster. She felt uneasy now. The sense of discord in the air increased. Not even the mirth, the banter of the usual crowd, could take her mind off the scene that was unfolding.

Ellie stood still with bated breath. She scanned the crowd, wanting to see if anyone else had noticed what she was witnessing, but the patrons were oblivious, apart from the odd glance or two at the good-looking strangers. Ellie continued to watch, scarcely understanding what was going on, the lone observer to the unforgettable scene that was about to unfold.