Ashwin Oswin and the Gauntlet of Gold

Chapter 02 | The Runaways

CHAPTER ONE is not complete, this is just a preview of what's to come.

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 HER HEART was pounding, sweaty palpitations glided across her body. The one person she had when she was at her weakest. Betrayed. Slowly walking backward, Ash held herself up with a treasure chest. Her mind was shattering, engulfing every anxiety she has ever felt in her small life span. Ash's feet caught up before anything else, hastily running towards her room. Everything felt differently like she finally opened up her perspective. The room she felt safest was in the epicenter of evil. Her own father who once said, "The purpose of discovery is to make the world more connected with each other." He decided that his employers were more important than becoming a father - worth looking up to.

Packing up an extra set of clothes, old camping gear, spare money, and her trustworthy slingshot. She went out of the second-story window knowing the employers were guarding obvious entrances. Stepping on roof tiles she sidesteps trying to stay upright while incessantly looking for danger. The wind was brushing up against her face. The lunars rays seemed to blaze on the uneven ground. The Order that's what they were named. A nightly breeze nipped at her Chuck Taylor covered feet. Noticing a rain gutter, Ash slipped her fingers underneath the metallic, slightly rusted contraption. Sliding down it with a push against the wall, causing her flannel overshirt to wave in the wind.

People with semi-machine guns were spread out, onto the periphery of the yard. They were clothed in military black with an emblem on the shoulder, tactical gear, and flashlights. Most of them were weaving those flashlights towards the next door forest cluster. Crouching behind a bush, Ash takes a grip of a pebble tossing it away from the opening. When the smooth stone struck the driveway, she hit the ground running making sure her lithe form was a tiny target.

A grunt, one of the groups who didn't go off and investigated the noise, got a shot off when they sprayed bullets towards the unidentified intruder. It seemed odd that the gun didn't produce the frequently known sounds to all as gunfire. A lucky bullet grazed against her leg, the once denim blue became darker as blood seeped into the cloth. Ash's once unmarred leg felt like a dull burning feeling mixed with heat. The adrenaline of being shot at produced the reaction of pumping her feet against the naturally crunching forest floor.

To distract the throbbing coming from her left leg, Ash began humming various songs that were quickly thrown into the wind. When she couldn't hear the sounds of boots crushing the undergrowth. Simply her lungs let out a sigh, somehow amplifying her discomforting sensation. Using her fine leg, she leaned against a nearby log. Who could she trust, after that stab in the back? Who could she lean on, when the first burned? That's when it hit her, Craig that's who she could trust. Her very first friend and the moral compass he was infamous to be in their partnership.

Getting back up, She limped along towards where she thought Craig's house was because at the moment she was a little disoriented. Huh, who knew that guns were excruciatingly painful. Ugh, she didn't need that first-hand knowledge. Noticing a familiar tree she tried running, stumbling downwards. Gritting her teeth, she used both hands and picked herself up with a stubborn expression. The rustic house was now in her sight. How would she explain to Ms. Miller that she was running away from her father? Gulping from the anticipation, she instead went to the second story window which held Craig's bedroom using a rusty ladder cast aside.

Breathing in and out tremulously, She knocked on the glass pane cradling her wound. Looking in, Ash noticed a figure moving from the bed going to the window in a state of tiredness. The silhouette was unveiled by the roaming moon above. The first action Craig did was raise one eyebrow. Unlatching the locking mechanism, he pulled the window open, whispering "What are you doing at this time of night?"

What do I say? What do I do? It was tumbling down and I couldn't pick up the pieces fast enough. Never fast enough. Her emotions were emblazoned in snow hibernating, the cold of her hands couldn't pick up the mess her life has become. The sleet was trying and prodding against the bridge of perspective however the keystone was gone, making the whole bridge fall into the icy lake, which once sparkled now cracked under the pressure, "I honestly have no clue what's going on Craig. It was like I was missing an important perspective. My..my dad was working with people with bad guys. Is he evil Craig? Am I evil for still loving him?"

She knew that Craig understood the precaution he needed to use when she said Craig instead of her various nicknames. It had been a while, the last time she pronounced his name was when his dad left him and his mother. Her unique sense of comforting her best friend, never an 'It's alright' because that would be a lie. When something terrible happens to you, it's never going to be ok. You just have to live with your skin while your mind is scarred over. The anxiety over getting hurt will be scurrying on top of your fingers, invisible spiders spinning threads of doubt and fear.

Taking his time to gain a new view on the situation, "So....your dad works with The Order? A secret society that works by using hidden sources of magic over the world. Most like to seize power over our various governments. Oh well...that's a lot to take in"