Krigare

noll

Scene: Dead of night. I can feel the wad of cash in my right pocket, but I brush my fingers over it anyway, to check if it's really there. A sudden gush of wind blows, and I feel my lips lose their colour. I shove both hands into the pockets of my jacket, and pick up my pace. Silent winds at this hour meant downpour.

London as we knew it was sound asleep. The faint noises of the night played in synchrony – the soft rustling of leaves outside households, soft billowing of curtains inside. London smelt as it always did - of ground herb. The city wouldn't change - it already had its worst after the last chaos in 2019. Nearly six years down the road, and how we have rebuilt ourselves. It was never a good world to begin with, but this was somewhat better.

I slow down when my house starts to come into view. A light drizzle starts to pour as I'm ten feet away from the steps leading up to the pale pink door.

I pull the house keys out of my left pocket, and as my hand is hovering over the bronze knob, it twists.

I let out a soft breath, planning my white lie before the door pulls open, and I am eye-to-eye with my older brother, Julian. He expels a sigh of relief, and so do I, in my mind. I don't have to lie to Julian.

"I was this close," he then motions with his fingers, which are almost touching. "To sending out a search party for you." He drops his hand, a look of disbelief on his face as to how tardy I am.

I draw my eyes away from his briefly and scoff, shifting my weight to my right hip. "Yeah? And that would have consisted of?"

He shrugs. "Isaac, myself. Anna, maybe," he says, subtly threatening me.

I glare at him until he moves out of the doorway and into the house, allowing my entry. I step in, and close the door behind me. "You are to never bring the tell-tale along if you are to ever send out a search party," I look him square in the eyes, referring to Anna, the youngest.

"Yes, ma'am," he mocks me, with his signature cocky smile, but I make nothing of it.

I make my way to the kitchen, and prop myself onto the marble counter. Julian opens a high snack shelf, and tosses me a bag of crisps. I consider opening and devouring it for a few seconds before tossing it back at him.

He sports it single-handedly before gazing at me in question. "No crisps? Really?"

"Do you know where I was?" I ask him with a tilt of my skull, as I pick out a single Honeycrisp apple from the fruit basket that lay at the end of the counter. I study it before taking a bite. I keep my eyes fixated on Julian, who grimaces at me for not washing it first.

"Mason's, I assume."

I hum a tone of denial. I swallow the bite before saying, "Guess again."

"Honestly, Oliver, my power of deduct-,"

"Your power of deduction would actually work if you kept your damn yapper shut and tried a little every now and then," I interrupt, sharp, but smiling ever so slightly. He sighs deeply before looking me up and down.

His eyebrows elevate a little, but barely. "I hope you're damp from the rain," his voice, full of doubt, says.

I smirk. "I'm not," I tell him.

He leans against the counter top on the opposite side. He crosses his arms. "You will not lie to me," he demands.

"Never." I suppress the coy smile that threatens to display itself upon my face. Julian lets out a sharp, exhausted breath, studying the floor.

"Ari or Parhall?" he simply asks, raising his eyes to meet mine. They were the same shade of light brown as mine - but his were worn and tired and mine were alive and kicking.

A small smirk finds its way across my lips. I don't manage to suppress it. "Ari," I say coyly, biting into my apple once again.
He uncrosses his arms and throws them upwards in exasperation. "DAMN IT OLIVER!"

"You can't possibly be mad!" I exclaim, letting out a grin. If anything he should be happy. It's a lot better than what I used to do for money.

I push the thought away.

"Guess how much I won!"

"A hundred," he guesses, and I shake my head. "Three?!"

"Five!" I screech in exhilaration.

"Shit!" His eyes widen with an equal amount of excitement as that of mine.

"I KNOW!" I yell, a tad too loud.

As expected, mother's groggy voice comes from upstairs and it yells, "Voices down! Go to bed, you two!" Julian snickers, and motions for me to get off the counter. I hop down, and trail behind him.

"I can't say I'm not proud of you," he whispers as we're pacing up the carpeted stairs. I smile, and he continues. "But you might as well be joining SHAGMMA instead," he says in suggestion. I knit my brows.

"SHAGMMA doesn't pay," I state, forgetting to whisper, as we reach the first floor. He opens his mouth to say something in defence when my mother yells "BED!" making us both flinch. We continue up the stairs, making our way to the second floor, smiles upon our faces both.

"Not for the sake of cash," he says, as I make my way into my room. He remains standing in the doorway. "For the sake of proper training. If you're going to do this, you might as well do it right."

I realise he has a point. A few years of training would do me a lot of good.

"All right?" he asks, genuine. I snap back to reality.

I smile. "All right," I say back.

He nods then, his smile disappearing. "Brill. Goodnight."

I return the courtesy, and he walks off to his room next door, pulling my room door shut as he goes.

I sigh, and start to begin thinking about it.
SHAGMMA - Sherlock High' All-Girls Mixed Martial Arts. Daftest acronym ever.

Joining them would mean I would have to put in actual hours of training daily. Forget being able to commit – I wasn't even sure I wanted to.

Slamming my head down unto my pillow, the image of the blonde-haired lad I had met not too long ago reforms in my mind. You're a natural, his soft voice iterates. I could help you alleviate that.

As the exhaustion began to weigh down on my eyelids, I began to wonder why the hell not.