Illusion of Fate
Chapter 3: Nightfall
Radiant stars gleamed and shimmered in the night sky above, an unending menagerie of beauty in the lofty heavens above now following the descent of night. The air was crisp and refreshing, having cooled since the nightfall and causing a pleasant atmosphere to rise into the sky – in fact, it seemed as though even the buildings were at ease at this time of day. As Lawrence strolled cheerily down the street, a small sack of food in hand, he smiled as he momentarily glanced up at the skies above; unfortunately, seeing such an endearing sight did little to aid him in shaking the faint feeling of dread that had overcome him minutes ago.
Now reaching the inn, he flung the door open and stepped into the lobby. The room was dark and dismal, dimly lit by sparse fragments of candlelight scattered throughout; the innkeeper, looking weary and ready for a good rest, stood behind his counter in the corner of the room, opposite the entrance; a medium-sized table sat in the door side corner with chairs around it, for where guests could rest; and finally, a set of stairs leading up to the rooms stood close to the old wooden counter.
“Sorry I’m late!” Lawrence chuckled as he walked in. His jovial expression faded when he noticed that, bar the innkeeper, the room was empty.
“Hey, have you seen Kyle?” Lawrence said, turning towards the innkeeper.
“Mm?” the man replied, almost half-asleep, “What? Y’mean the little guy with the axe?”
“Yeah, that’s him”, Lawrence confirmed, stepping towards the counter.
“Nah, not since you two booked your rooms earlier. Sorry.”
“Well,” Lawrence began, “do you have any idea where he could’ve gone?”
“All’s I hope is,” the man started nervously, “that he hasn’t gone down Turnwise Alley. The worst thugs an’ criminals you ever did see hang about there. We pay them no heed an’ often they’ll stay away from us, but if someone goes down there with coinage…” he paused, looking towards Lawrence with a hint of worry in his eyes.
Then he quietly finished with, “I think you’d better go find your friend, sir. And fast.”
Upon hearing those last words, Lawrence took a step backward; then, he bolted out the door as fast as he could, clutching the handle of his sword tightly as he did so.
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Cramped the room was, dark also, a small flickering candlelight lain upon a tiny round table nestled snugly into the corner. Musty was the air, dried and old, giving an impression to one that it was rarely cleaned. There were no floorboards here, just flattened dirt for a floor, a creaking and worn bed resting to the north-eastern side, and a chair in the middle; upon which sat Kyle, strapped tightly within by sturdy rope, a knotted loop kept his hands from moving behind the chair – though at this moment they needed not to perform such a task, for Kyle’s head hung forward loosely as he remained unconscious still.
Now he awoke, slowly and blearily at first, but soon he gathered his bearings and flung his head up, turning it from side to side in order to determine his location; unfortunately, there was too little light and he failed to notice any of the aforementioned details listed above. He sighed, knowing himself to be in trouble once again, like he had gotten himself into so many times before, and resigned his mind to focusing on the flickering candlelight, watching the flame dance and twist as he waited for his captor to return.
Moments later the door flung open, the captor standing silhouetted against the doorway as a dim light flooded the pitch-black room. Kyle had no time with which to note the décor of the room, however, for soon the burlesque man slammed the door shut, walking over to the corner table to pick up the candle. Holding it close to his face, he walked towards Kyle and the boy could now see the face of his captor – rigid and hardened, what he would define as “ugly”, and most of all menacing; features all the more highlighted by the muscular man’s hairless scalp. His chest was adorned by a tight grey vest, similar in colour to Kyle’s yet different, and he wore an unsurprisingly dull pair of torn trousers tucked in to a pair of tightly clinging shin-high black boots.
The man’s face grimaced at Kyle, he bore his teeth, and it was readily apparent from the various holes in his teeth that the man seemed to have distaste for good oral hygiene. Kyle winced as the man pressed his face towards his, grinning slightly, before pulling it back and staring down at the boy; now drawn to his full height, the man was as tall as Lawrence, something which would have caused Kyle to shift uneasily in his chair were the ropes restraining him not so tight. The man held his gaze at Kyle for quite a while, and after what seemed like minutes the man finally spoke.
“That were real nice of you, y’know,” the man grumbled with a grin.
“W-what was?” Kyle stammered nervously.
“Coming down ‘ere with them coins, lad,” the man replied, “after all, nobody comes down Turnwise Alley with a handful of coins unless their either payin’ us to keep outta their way, or…” he leaned towards Kyle menacingly once again, “unless they’re very, very stupid and very, very suicidal.”
The man pulled back a little, though not by much, and raised an eyebrow, “Now which one is you then, eh?”
Kyle murmured something along the lines of “the latter”, and the man chuckled.
“Damn it all, that’s a shame. If you was just meant to be payin’ one of us down ‘ere I could’ve let you go, but since you’re just a tourist…”
He stumbled over to the bed and picked up a small bronze axe – one that Kyle recognised as his own. The man turned his head to Kyle, glaring over his shoulder, a somewhat demonic gleam in his eye as he finished, “…I’m going to have to keep you quiet. Nice and permanent, like.”
The man staggered slowly over to Kyle, purposely raising the level of the young boy’s anxiety, and smirked cruelly as he did so. When he finally reached the boy, he lifted his arm up in a curve slowly, savouring the look of terror on Kyle’s face, readying the axe for its soon-to-be connection with the boy’s neck.
A moment of pure terror passed. The world froze for Kyle, and he felt ready to soil himself as he despondently knew his life was going to come to an end…
…except it didn’t. Not then, anyway, as the door flung open and Lawrence cannoned into room, sword drawn and poised to kill. The man was taken aback by this sudden turn of events, lowering the axe to his side in surprise. Lawrence rushed over to the man, and the thief felt the pressure of the blade’s tip pressing tightly behind his back before he had chance to respond.
Glancing over to Kyle, the man said in a strained voice, “Erm…is ‘e a friend o’ yours, then?”
Kyle nodded enthusiastically and with a somewhat smug smile, as the man gulped nervously.
“Weel, I must say,” the man told Lawrence nervously “you seem to be a hell of a swordsman. I can see that this lad made a good choice in his friends. Yes, indeed,” in an attempt to redirect the conversation away from the murder he was about to commit. Although it failed to work, Lawrence did give the man a stern warning in lieu of death.
“I will let you off to live but this once,” Lawrence snarled, “if I am to see your face again, or you dare attempt to harm my friends again, I will see to it that your life meets a premature end. Do I make myself clear?”
“As crystal, sir,” the man whimpered.
“All right, then.” Lawrence pulled the blade away from the man’s back and sheathed it, before proceeding to pick up Kyle’s battleaxe – a few quick swings led to Kyle becoming unbound, and then the axe was handed back over to him. As the two then left the room, Kyle stopped in the doorway and glared towards the thief, before slamming the door shut.
Then the man, bewildered by the turn of events, passed out.
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Kyle flopped down onto the bed, he and Lawrence having returned to their quaint room within the inn. The room was covered from wall to wall in a shaggy brown carpeting, and was not so spacious as one would like – the two single beds were both pressed up against opposite walls, yet there was little over a meter’s space between them. Nonetheless, the room was being rented for but one night only and thus the matter was brought not to the attention of Kyle and Lawrence, nor did the lingering scent emanating from the yellowing walls disturb them either. The only light in the room was once again a candle, this time leaning on a stand built into the wall between the two beds.
As Lawrence leaned his sword against the corner of the room near the foot of his bed, Kyle sat up on his bed and looked towards Lawrence with an ashamed look in his gaze. Upon noticing this, Lawrence paused and raised an eyebrow.
“Lawrence,” Kyle began, “I’m really sorry-”
“No harm done. You’re safe and sound, and that’s all that matters,” Lawrence reassured him, before continuing sternly, “although you should know better than to venture into such areas alone. The thugs found in darkened alleys are far too much for one man to handle without aid; even I only managed to defeat that thief due to catching him by surprise. So, make sure that you’re more careful next time, all right?”
Kyle beamed at Lawrence and nodded, before laying his axe underneath his bed and clambering into his bed; moments later he was fast asleep. Smiling, Lawrence walked towards the candle and blew it out, enveloping the room in darkness. Then he clambered into his own bed, mere moments before he too was sound asleep.