Knightsbourne

CARDINAL RED

Dim light. The smell of pepper. Murmured conversation. As Charlie drifted back into the land of the living, he registered a few small things. And then it all flooded back. He skittered away from the small bed he awoke in, throwing himself onto wooden floorboards.
"Ow! Crap, what the hell..."
Obscenities and hisses slipped from his mouth as a searing pain ripped through his side. His throat felt hoarse and his lungs ached like a wrung-out dishrag. He was wearing clothes he had never seen before- an oversized t-shirt that read 'Kingsbourne Fishing Tourney Champ 2010' in faded print, and a pair of pyjama bottoms bearing the pattern of cartoon kittens. Yeah, he definitely did not own these clothes. He lifted the hem of the shirt, revealing a large yellow and black bruise blossoming from the small of his back to under his ribs- a mark left on him by that hellish eel, a creature he had never seen nor heard of. A sea monster. Or a lake monster? Charlie scolded himself, this wasn't the time to debate the semantics of a hundred foot long fish. It was so foolish. Why in the hell had he wandered willingly into the hunting grounds of a monster? He carefully prodded the damaged flesh, prompting a flash of pain spreading through his entire torso. Suddenly panic rose in his chest. He could hear muffled conversation in the next room. He was in someone else's house, possibly captive, lying on their floor, wearing their clothes. Not an ideal situation. The people talking stopped- and he could hear a pair of heavy footsteps approaching the room. Weighing his options, Charlie figured he wouldn't be able to get one of the windows open fast enough, so he settled for grabbing the lamp standing in the corner of the room, gripping it hard enough that his shaking knuckles turned a strangled white. He brandished it like a weapon as he watched the door handle turn and swing open.
A figure filled the doorway. Charlie's hands fell slack on the lamp as he identified it as the nonhuman from the lake- a large, draconic man with skin a shade of muted red, leathery wings, and what looked like a burns scar over his cheek. The drake looked down at him with surprise, his catlike eyes drawn down towards the smaller man's makeshift weapon. He raised his hands in a gesture of peace.
"It's ok, we just wanted to help."
His voice, like all drakes, was low and rough, catching in his throat like rocks being tossed in the undercurrent of a river. Charlie released the lamp, setting it awkwardly beside him.
"Where am I?" He asked with shaking breath. The drake took a small step forward, his tail sweeping the threshold. "You were drowning, I had to take you to my friend-" He gestured down the hall. "She knows how to help, she's a witch... You took in a lot of water." His face seemed etched with concern.
Charlie looked up at him.
"You beat that thing?"
His voice was filled with awe. That huge monster, one coil of its muscular body strong enough to knock Charlie out in one shot- bested. The drake seemed surprised, his expression of concern transforming into that of bashfulness.
"Ah, yes, I did- don't worry, I didn't kill it though. My name's Leon."
As he introduced himself, A wave of pain rippled through Charlie's ribs, eliciting a strangled gasp as his arm jolted up to feel the source. Leon took a small step forward, eyes filled with worry. "You're still pretty banged up... Jasmine should be able to give you some painkillers." He began towards the door, gesturing for Charlie to come with him.
He followed the drake into the hall, a short, wood panelled landing with framed pictures of old documents and faded pages from books. His bare feet fell on scratched wooden boards, as he suddenly wished he at least had some socks. A woman's voice called out as they entered the room.
"He's up!"
A woman wearing a thick woolen cardigan called out in their direction, strings of gold and silver draped around her neck. Her tousled hair hung level with her chin, a shade of rich brown. Her eyes were coloured with worry, scanning the boys.
"Leon, move, is he ok?"
The young woman jumped up from her chair and moved towards Charlie, prodding his ribcage and examining the bruising on his back. Charlie bristled from this sudden forwardness, taking a small step back, tugging the hem of his shirt back down and looking her in the eye.
"Excuse me, what?" Charlie asked, his voice dripping with indignation. The woman backed off.
"Sorry, sorry! You just woke up, right? I'll give you a little space." She sounded scattered, a ditzy smile spread on her tan face. "I'm Jasmine."
The girl pushed her hair behind her ear and spun on her heels, setting about collecting small glass bottles filled with unknown substance from an old medicine cabinet. Her hands moved in a controlled flurry, pulling, checking, feeling and prodding at vials and small tied bags- which she pulled open between calloused fingers.
"I don't get many visitors, excuse the mess," She breezed, an apologetic tone to her flowery voice. "Leon doesn't usually bring friends back!"
Leon shot her a warning glare, his leathery face darkening. Jasmine rolled her eyes and returned to the cabinet, smiling sarcastically.
She uncorked a bottle with her teeth and poured the powdery contents of the bag into the watery green fluid contained within the vial. Upon this contact, the mixture began to carbonate, bubbling and frothing until it metamorphosed into a gel the shade of cardinal red. Jasmine turned around, clasping the bottle. "You got wiped out pretty hard. I thought you'd like something to ease the bruising?"
She gestured for him to take his shirt off, emptying the gel into a small bowl.
He pulled his shirt over his head, sitting uncomfortably on the granite countertop. Jasmine stood close, gently applying the red paste to his damaged flesh. He suddenly felt very exposed- he could feel their eyes on him, and his mind immediately went to his shortcomings. He was a small man, and by no means muscular. His body reflected his lifestyle, soft and rounded, and Charlie couldn't help but feel inferior to just about everyone. A pale scar carved into the side of his stomach, mingling with discoloured scratches, pockmarks and freckles running up the side of his torso. Jasmine's hands ran across his bruise, applying the red cream. Cooling relief instantly flooded through his flesh, a sigh escaping from his lips.
"What are you even doing out here? It's not safe."
Leon had piped up, arms crossed and leaning against the door frame. Embarrassment coloured his cheeks, replacing his relief.
"I... It's my job. I'm a cryptozoologist, I moved here to study the local arcane ecosystem." He fidgeted, pulling at his hands. "So you're aware of the danger, and you still went out there?" Leon questioned, eyebrows raised. Charlie flushed even darker, taken slightly aback by his bluntness. He nodded.
"I can respect that. Just be prepared next time."
The man turned around and started to walk away. Jasmine huffed, glancing after him, seemingly frustrated. "Why don't you walk... Wait, what's your name?" She said, meeting the scientists gaze again. "It's Charlie." He muttered, pulling the shirt back over his head.
"Why don't you walk Charlie back to wherever he lives?"
"I'm staying at the Kappa's Arms." He cut in.
"It's getting dark, it might be dangerous." Jasmine added, calling after him.
The drake cocked his head, as if thinking for a second. His back was still turned, tail flicking across the floor. He turned his body a fraction and gestured for charlie to follow.
"Put some shoes on."