Chapter 437 - Village of Earn [2]

'What an opening impression for the Village,' thought Staxius sat under the mid-day sun. The slated-brick roofs were old and some close to collapse – masons were on scaffolds restoring those of 'privilege'. The night was spent over a similar roof – the view of the starry sky, in an almost enchanting way, forced him to peer into what Syhton gave her will for. 

'The village wakes from their sleep as if nothing happened.' Staring down to the village square – where once bodies burnt, the area was cleaned. No trace of ashes remained nor even the evidence of a fire. The local market opened with vendors bringing their moveable stalls, some rode on horseback, and others in the back of vans. The disparities of how businesses profited were shown in the medium through which they sold. 

Layered in a neat and narrow cell-type arrangement, the traders shouted to invite customers. Those who shopped where the ladies of the many families. Daughters, young babes - the majority being female; walked to bargain. The younger 'men' were with their fathers, working as apprentices in physical labor. Farming, blacksmithing, craftsmanship, to name a few, the modest work-shops were in a differing section. 

"Master, I've information on the people of last night," said Éclair with the glasses flickering. It showed the portrait picture of a few people of interest. 

"The village leader, the doctor, and the resident alchemist," mumbled he, "-I came to investigate gang-trouble…"

"Master," interjected the spirit.

"What?"

"We should intervene."

"For what reason?" asked he with a grudge for early morning hunger had the stomach crawl with noise and hate. 

"I heard what thee mumbled last night, during the age of where demi-humans weren't accepted, the age where witches were viewed as the devil. You hypothesized that the situation here is the same as back then – humans fear the unknown and would rather comfort to mindless drivel from a religiously dressed man opposed to the rambling of a man of science."

"They don't seek reason," sighed he, "-getting involved might cause more trouble than we're due."

"Isn't it the job of someone with the power to help those who are helpless?"

"No," said he sharply, "-I'm no hero. I'll help if the situation relates to the task at hand. If not, the village can burn to ash – hell, I'd call on Intherna to help them be at ease," the murderous smirk manifested in small inclinations. 

With the sun as background, he jumped to stroll around town. The outfit was soon changed to one modest and not eye-catching. Attracting attention wouldn't help the task at hand. Thus, he hid his presence and became a walking shadow. The heightened hearing senses went from person to person, filtering, listening, and waiting. Éclair did the same for he logged what people said using lip-reading. The habitual chatter was of prices going up, a scandal of two youngers running off to marry, or the next-door weird neighbor having touched another animal. Left to right, granted he could have used the All-seeing eye – ended in naught, the sunset with the 26th coming to a close end.

A one-story high inn opened its door at dusk. Men from all over arrived in work clothes, some with concrete, and others with paint. They joined arms to enter with smiles – the atmosphere was the typical 'I need booze to take the day's worries away'. 

"Good evening," said Staxius walking to a small counter atop which rested a cactus. 

"Good evening," returned a demi-human, "-how may I help you?" asked she with a yawn.

"Is there lodging available for tonight?" asked courteously, the lady's ears perked.

"A traveler I presume?" said she with pride as if cracking the secret to a long-awaited mystery. 

"Yes," nodded he, the outfit and backpack made it obvious.

"There is lodging available," said she after a few moments. 

"Good," said he giving a once over. Brown long hair styled in front covered her neck, chest, and downwards towards the stomach. Her right eye held the scars of a bad injury, each time she smiled – reclusively, it would reveal lost teeth as well as a few chipped. "-Might I book one?" 

"Listen," she grabbed his shirt and pulled closer, "-we have a room available – I'd personally recommend camping. The rooms are used for… let's just say the bonding of two strangers. Your white hair and red eyes are tell-tell signs of thee being a vampire. I'm from Arda, I long to return home. Dreams are dreams, as a fellow Ardanian, don't subject yourself to the disgusting lodging we have."

"Aye Mela, how are you!" said a broadish man waltzing over the counter, "-long time no see," he slapped her bottom to then smell the fingers whilst giving the strangest lick of the lips. 

"Excuse me," voiced Staxius, "-tis improper to jump the line. If thee wishes to do such an act of disgust, please, book a room instead, I'd rather gouge mine eyes than to be subjected to such vileness."

"What he say?" he frowned.

"Mr. E, please," she jumped into his arms, "-he's a traveler, doesn't know the ways of Earn. Please, go have a seat, we'll send the usual." 

"Sure, sure," he fondled her b.r.e.a.s.t as if pressing a horn to then hit Staxius's shoulder. 

"Weak," he snickered and left to be greeted by other tough-looking individuals.

"What were you thinking?" returned she with a disheartened face.

"Is it not normal for an Ardanian to help another?" said he casually, the murderous fire swayed with every passing moment.

"Oh…" she paused with a relaxed visage, "-I appreciate the thought, it does mean a lot."

"Mela, bring over the drinks!" screamed the man across the room.

"What will you do?" she turned to Staxius with urgency.

"I'll have a room booked," he smiled, "-I also want to experience the ways of 'Earn'."

"Sure," her eyes rolled, "-use room 03, I cleaned it yesterday. That'd be 5.54 Exa."

"Have 40 Exa."

"…" she glanced upward, "-it's too much…"

"Take it as a tip," the gentle voice made it easier to swallow, "-an act of gratitude from a fellow countryman."

"Thank you so much," quick to hide the excess inside her undergarments, the lady guided him upwards.

"MELA, WHERE'S THE DRINK!" screamed the man with a tensed almost painful expression.

"Jonny's bringing it over," fired she across climbing the stairs. Each step brought a sinking sensation breaking. The planks were rotten and nearing their life-span.

"Here we are," said she with flushed cheeks.

"You weren't lying," commented Staxius, "-they are really going at it, hard."

"Ha-ha," nervous laughter followed with the door opening, "-I told you, this place is vile and decrepit."

"There's no need to be tactful," said he stepping inside, "-I knew full well what sort of scenarios awaited." 

She shrugged, "-I better get going. If you want food, come down, I'll personally cook them. Have a good night…" 

"Haggard."

"Awesome, good night, Mr. Haggard."

Tight with only a bed and a place to change, the curtains were old and dusty. The windows, rusted at the hinges – cobwebs in the corners with collected dust. Roaches scurried from one end to another, she didn't lie in the place being filthy. The buzzing singular light bulb didn't help the situation. 

"Master," voiced Éclair, "-I've searched for the identity of this Mr.E."

"And, what came up?"

"I had to go around many servers. Mr. E's full name is Ethin Zuda Lonek. A foreigner hailing from the kingdom of Konak."

"Konak, it's inside Iqeavea, right? The kingdom to the northeast of Vlaiwia." 

"Yes, there isn't much known about them."

"No matter," stood at the windows, "-we don't need to know what Konak is up to. Did you find anything relating him to Cimier or the underworld?"

"About that," paused the spirit, "-Snow."

"Snow," stopped short of punching the window, "-why did that name come up again?" rage-induced glares scanned the room in search of things to break or kill.

"Majesty," said Éclair softly, "- I know of the incident with lady Lizzie. Snow, the underworld organization of Konak – is a part of Cimier. Tis the information I gathered from their private servers. I didn't wish to bring the matters of the past; however, the situation dictates otherwise." 

"Enough!" the whole building moved. People downstairs held onto seats in wait for the coming earth-quake.

'I lost my composure,' thought he breathing deep, '-the memories of Lizzie being killed are heart tearing. I didn't expect Snow to be active since we drove them out of Hidros. Does everything have to always return to where it began? Is it really necessary for me to relive my worst moments, the constant reminder that I failed to protect a girl who I saw as my daughter.' Tired, he fell onto the neatly done bed. Elbows covered his eyes, the hardness of when Lizzie was alive, her smile, her willingness to change into a better person. The attempt in her becoming better for her and his sake. The memories rushed to the point where the real world became naught but an empty casket. 

*Slam,* a loud noise broke his idealess sleep. A check on the watch showed 22:00. Faint m.o.a.ns of discontent were knocked onto the thin walls of the rooms. The noises and screams gave the mental image of what happened. 

"Master, that's Mr. E." 

"I know," he stood with anger, "-I can't live down that moment." He barged out of the room and leaped for the other.

"WAIT MASTER, PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING FOOLISH!" screamed Éclair without impact. 

"You again!" said Mr. E on the bed with Mela. Tears had filled her face – her shirt was beyond unbuttoned; they were mercilessly torn away by a l.u.s.tful beast. 

"Ethin Zuda Lonek," gritted he entering the room.

"What!"

"Are you related to Snow?" the aura grew heavy, the coming feeling of nausea sprawled across.

"Yes, and what of it?" he jumped with a gun in hand, "-don't f.u.c.k with me, else I'll shoot. Turn around, there's some who needs to be taught a lesson," he glanced over the shoulder, "-don't worry my love," said he with a love-filled tone, "-I'll get rid of this intruder. We're going to bond as we did so long ago."

"You going to shoot?" said he with burning crimson eyes.

"YES I WILL," turned Mr. E.

"I doubt that," said Staxius touching the man's elbow. 

"MY ARM!" the singular motion of touching blew the bones.

"Shut up," a flick of the sharpened nail slit Mr. E's tongue, the pinky flesh flopped onto the floor. Unable to scream, the figure fell to the ground as pouring blood made breathing hard.

"Come on," stood on the man's face, "-don't die on me yet, I've yet to start playing," said he with an emotionless face, "-come on, don't die on me." The applied force increased gradually, "-COME ON WAKE UP!" *CRACK,* the skull exploded with brain matter flown across. *Death Element: Void Flame.*

The body burnt noiselessly, the evidence of him being alive vanished. Mela's expression was fearful as she hid behind the blanket. 

'I did it again,' thought he cleaning the blood. "You saw nothing."

"N-nothing…" the door shut.

"Master, that wasn't the smartest idea," said Éclair as they returned to their room.

"I know," he glanced over, "-I know, there's no need for a reminder. Mr. E could have given us information, well, whatever, we know Snow is involved." Laid on the bed, the mind felt at ease, the sight of another's death, the blood, the crushing sensation as he killed, '-I feel bliss.' Nothing more helped to calm the God of Death than killing others, a monster in every sense of the word. 

*Click,* at midnight, the door opened.

"Master," whispered Éclair, "-we have an intruder."

"I know," refuted he waiting for an opportune moment. 

*Woosh,* "-who is this?" the arms wrapped around the trespasser.

"I-it's m-me Mela," she held tight onto arms which choked her from behind.

"Oh, it's you," the grip lessened, "-what do you want?" he sauntered in her field of vision.

"You…"