Fields of Crimson

Meet Bratis The Man in Black

The night was empty and soundless as the woman made her way through the streets of town. Nobody walked these streets at night, and the reason remained unknown to her. Straying from her path, she pushed open the door to a pub which seemed to be bustling. The door creaked as she entered and she could hear the talking of men and the singing of women. They were crowded around the bar and the fire pit at the center of the hall. Her eyes narrowed as she stepped inside and scanned the place with hesitancy. No one even glanced in her direction, which allowed her to slip inside without difficulty. The blonde brushed her braided hair from her shoulder and then a strand from her face, which only seemed to fall in front of her eye once again. Hopeless. Her boots made almost no noise compared to the drunkards around her. Akhira walked to the barmaid with her hands placed on her widened hips. An ale was offered to her, and she tossed a few septims onto the counter in exchange. With her perfectly sculpted brows arching as she sipped at her drink, her lush lips were coated with a thin layer of froth. She sat herself down at one of the tables in the farthest corner of the pub and placed her large drink upon the rickety table before her. She didn't often come to small villages like this, but it seemed more energetic here than in the larger city holds. She could get used to a thing like that.

Her nose twitched back and forth, for the dusty little booth where she sat seemed as if it hadn't been used as much as the rest of the place. She enjoyed her drink and occasionally smiled at the giddy men who wooed women with their drunken, lewd hymns. Finally, her peaceful little corner had been violated. A boy who had once possessed a deep wound, inflicted by a skeever in his uncle's cellar in Falkreath, now stood before her as a man. Now his once bloody wound was a fully healed scar which stretched from his brow to the edge of his jawline. the opposite side of his face had a streak of war paint down his cheek and brow, mimicking the rugged thing on the other side. A sort of intimidation tactic, it seemed. Akhira's eyes lifted from her frothy drink as the man placed down not one drink, but two, and took a seat across from her. "Well, you may not remember me, but I remember you. I'd remember that face anywhere."

Akhira remained silent, staring at the high elf across from her with the dark green eyes and ebony locks. "What? You don't see it? It's me, Bratis." He crooned towards her, eyes gleaming and lips curling into a fine smirk. "If you don't mind me saying, you grew into quite a pretty little thing.. Considering how hard you bumped your head. I thought you'd look like a three-eyed-troll after that."

Now she remembered exactly who he was. He was older than her, and definitely ruder than she ever was. Akhira couldn't remember many things after the incident, for the impact had disrupted something within her mind- something within her memories. She barely even remembered that day, let alone anyone who lived in the village. That day changed her, possibly for the better. She'd forgotten. Sadly, she remembered this hard-headed arse. "Watch your tongue, or you'll get it cut clean off." Different. Very different. Her voice had turned from a finch's chirp to the elegant purr of a falcon in flight. Her hues narrowed upon his almond-shaped eyes, glaring at him. What was he doing here, in Rorikstead. All that lived here were farmers and horse thieves. The blonde brushed her braid over her shoulder so that it draped across her collarbone and down to her chest. "Why are you attempting to converse with me, Bratis?" His name somehow brought a metallic taste to her tongue, so she took a sip of her ale to rid of it. "You shouldn't be drinking that shit," he pushed one of his two bottles towards her, "Honningbrew Mead. The finest. Go ahead, take a taste. I'm sure it tastes much better than that horse piss." Bratis grinned, revealing his unusually sharp canines. "I've got mine." Akhira declared proudly, placing a gloved finger on the offered bottle before pushing it away.

"Oh, come now, love" He tilted his head and gave a look about the clamorous establishment. "Don't call me that," Akhira sneered between her pearly whites, "I want nothing from you, and I'm not giving you anything." She declared proudly, sipping at her own ale once again. Back in Falkreath, he was the town thief. Stealing lumber from other's land to sell at his father's mill. How could she remember this, all about this boy she had never even payed attention to? Then she was just around fourteen or fifteen and he was seventeen. Now, she was twenty. Gods, how they'd grown. Her eyes rolled like loose marbles as she stood to smooth out the leather armor that covered her body. "I've got to go-" In this rather uncomfortable situation, she decided that it would be best just to stay the night elsewhere. A thunderous sound came from the other side of the room as a man sitting on a table with two women on his lap tipped over and caused a racket. People laughed as the two women cursed at him in embarrassment and poured their drinks over his unconscious body.

Bratis followed, standing and following her towards the door. "Well then, I must be going as well, it seems. I'll be staying at the inn. Would you like to join me?"

Akhira scoffed and pushed the door open, frustration causing her cheeks to flush pink as she trudged down the stairs and to the road that split the town in two. Of course he knew that's where she would want to be staying. Akhira did not like annoying men, and she had no tolerance for any sort of annoyance in general. So, this made her want to draw her claws and rake them across his face to give him another scar to remember. "Bratis-" "Akhira.." She was interrupted by him, which only caused her to turn around and address him with rage in her eyes. "Stop following me, or I'll call the guards." She warned him, tilting her head to the side and looking up at him in an intimidating manner, although he was much taller. "You won't be getting anything out of me. W-Why do you even want to talk to me? I left, yes, but that doesn't make me some whore who disobeys her father's wishes!" She was growling straight into his face now. And his amused smile was only fueling her anger. "Ah, you did leave- which was disobeying daddy. And now you're here. And I'm here. And the inn is two more buildings down. I'm sure that we would both love to catch up somewhere more.." He paused, gazing off and then leaning towards her, "Private."

That was enough to set her off completely. The night sky was gleaming with different colors than it had before. Pinks and yellows and greens plastered the sky in a magnificent display, so wonderful that it could have been plastered to a canvas and celebrated for decades. "This view could just take your breath away, couldn't it?" But he ruined it. She felt as if she had been shot with an arrow in the chest as he spoke. She was having a wonderful time until he had gone and ruined it all. A fool, that's what he was. Akhira took a step back and forced both of her arms out to push him away. He grabbed her by her palm and brought her arm into the air and above her head, spinning her around like a noble lady in a dance. She hissed through her teeth as he smirked down at her with that look that had always irritated her, even as a girl. When she'd go to fetch water for her father, he would toss stones into the river to soak her dress. What an arse. "Bratis! Unhand me!" He didn't let go. Finally, she closed her eyes and focused terribly hard, channeling knowledge from a book she had once picked up on the road. Her palm began to glow, and burn. His flesh began to boil in her hand, but he didn't let go until his hand was completely on fire. "Agh!" He cursed beneath his breath and threw his hand around until it finally ceased burning. His hand was red and filled with throbbing bubbles. Good, he let go.

The look in his eyes was something that she felt as if she had seen before. Bratis continued to shake his hand as he ran at her with a furious roar. "You bitch! I should have just killed you too instead of whacking you with that ingot in the shop, you know! I was trying to be a gentleman, and this is the way you treat me!?" .....What. Akhira ducked out of the way and stared at him, gawking, with her jaw dropped. "You?" she whispered in a hushed cry, backing away slowly as he approached with a wolffish expression. "You're the one who.. You killed/ him! You!" It all made sense now. The village thief breaking into the general store and swiping something. He must have gotten caught, and that's why he killed the man. Akhira ran as quickly as she could, her elegant legs carrying her swiftly across the rugged ground. Farther down the road, she approached a figure. She didn't care who they were or what their intentions were. She needed to get help. This savage could kill her in an instant. She had no weapon on her other than a dagger. Her bow had been broken just a few weeks before deciding to come to Rorikstead. She was a hunter, and that's how she made her money. "Help! Please! This man is trying to kill me!" She ran at the stranger and circled them, ducking behind them with a flame still burning in her hand. It was weak, but it was her only real weapon. She placed a hand on the Ebony skinned man's shoulder, heaving for air. "Please-" At this point her hair had come loose from her braid and lay in disheveled waves down her back. She looked like a mess, like she'd been running for her life. Well, she was.