The Lordly Ones

-The Floating Market Town

The few visitors had all left to fall into their beds.The locals were left to pack away the market as a few groups of rowdy men steered towards the tavern in hope of a good time. They had plenty of places to go to. When problem towns like Kanafete were left abandoned without a hope there was always something that dragged it from the dirt, something that pretended to be a solution. This solution slopped down fat faces and lit the inside of men's throats with warmth. Too much of this poison led to dizziness and violence. It washed away someone's past as easily as blowing out a spark, in a moment the flicker was gone and there could be anything around you in the darkness. You could be anything. There was nothing to say who you were or what you were. The Fake Queen called the stuff 'alcohol'. it had always been there, a smudge from the world across Froru Wood, she just lit the obsession from what had leaked across.

A few of the oil lamp lighters had started their rounds as the sky over Kanafete had begun to lose any of the remaining light it had left in the gray sky. The sound of laughter burst from one of the taverns and with a thud the door was cast open. The body of a drunk young man was thrown to the pavement. His head just glanced off the side of the canal paving stones. His arm hung losely over the edge, his hand submerged in the grimy water as it lapped up his flesh, lapping up his pain and sucking it to the muddy depths along with long abandoned items that were taken down with the help of Kanafete's floods.

If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine that nothing was wrong. That the canal would grab his arm and he would plunge into the water and it would take him somewhere far away from all his thoughts and fears. It would take him from this town. It almost didn't matter where. But the water didn't curl around his arm. It didn't pull him in. It betrayed him. So he tried to focus on something else entirely, something to chase away the nightmares or at least paint over the pain. So he thought of the woods and of its animals. He imagined running so fast that no-one could reach him and he almost felt the floor under his feet and the leaves brushing his legs. However, he was stopped by something. A small fragile deer with huge brown eyes. Even his dreams wouldn't let him run.

With a deep sigh, Jeremiah lay there, on the pavement with a heavy soul. It was starting to take a lot more beers to get him drunk but once he was there it was usually worth it. Not this time. The 'WANTED' posters were everywhere, urging people to kill or kidnap the three girls.

How's it goin' girl? They got ya yet?

He pulled himself to his knees and dragged himself to his feet. It was going to be a long night. His sandy hair was now dirty and wet from rain and slowly the droplets became showers of cold water. If he didn't move fast he'd be stuck when some of the roads became mud. His body strained as it struggled between a run and a walk and soon he found himself squelching though thick gloop.

After what seemed like an age, he fell against the old shipping warehouse where his boss had let him sleep. In the hard times that the outskirts were in, it was a surprise that bits of the warehouse roof hadn't been stolen. There were only little gaps where rain plopped through but mostly because of rust.

With a heavy heart Jeremiah pulled back the makeshift curtain to look through the square gap that was the window. Soon moon would reflect off the lake and a few of the sprites and witches would crowd this area. Besides, it had been a while since there had been such a clear full moon prediction.

Jeremiah had just been about to turn away when a figure caught his eye.

Oh God. Please no.

Six silhouettes were swimming through the lake towards the town at a lazy pace. A few were even lagging behind.

Nah, they wouldn't be that stupid.