Sneak-Peek - 21st Chapter, "The Lordling's Coward"

It was the day of — (as I am not positive), and in the land of the Second of the Triplets. Morning. The sun hung above like boiled gold, not quite shiny, without its usual sheen and with bleak rays casting down heavily upon the island. This wasn't popular - in fact, the birds didn't even sing that morning, let alone the bullfrogs which did not begin with the choir and the off-tact sound-making. Children awoke with colds and mothers with children in their wombs lay upon their couches, holding stomachs and moaning frightfully.

It was nothing serious, perhaps, but men went off to work coughing and looking down and the snakes stayed hidden underneath their sacred boulders, enjoying the stones weighing them down and the cool, crisp air. Meanwhile, three beings were huddled under the lonely wâttłê tree in the graveyard, and they all slept - all but one.

Mr. Recovery and stood and stretched his legs. By Euginie there was no blood, for it all froze on her face like icing on a badly-made cake, making her features hideous. Then there was Wen, who was sleeping like a perfectly thorny devil who didn't want nobody to invade her space (drooling, body spread out over the grass and legs and arms lying across the body of the woman). However, there was something very melancholy about the child; —

I 'ever told 'er of my intenshons... i 'ever said tha' she must' die... the thought was airborne in his mind. But the dwarf just felt under his woollen jumper and produced a pocketknife. Sabres - longswords - all that sort of stuff was in Tilla, and in Ruthenium Picke, and he wouldn't even dare try using one of those. Actually, wait no; Ruthenium Picke would be for the cowards, so of course there would be all the gòœnś (items, much like guns, but rather plastic looking. And before one was killed, the other had to perform... a certain ritual... which included cutting out one's — Never mind. The cuts would be long and painful, but at least that would satisfy his lordling.

The dwarf touched his beard, feeling fingers intertwine together over the mass of the scraggly mop, and bitterly and wistfully he sighed. But the vision of his lordling - there, Dear Arachphat, with his weapon bared and his cloak of platinum trailing behind him, pink quartz shining bright, made the dwarf first look away - and then beam boldly. And she - the sacred little child chosen for the job - of the Helper - had something that he didn't. That was bad enough... very bad.

So the dwarf made his way towards the girl, thinking all the same as he brought the knife down to her lips. He would cut now - now - send the blade cutting across her face, and flesh and blood and bone would be out, with only the pathetic shell of the creature, all crust, left to be given to his lordling. He would bare his teeth and he would claw at the shell and roar and reveal bloodied teeth, with whisky stains (it's the same word both in Earthian and Consilii Language) And pieces of bannickse in between the gaps.

Now.

Now.

Now.

His honour... who was he to do this?? And suddenly the dwarf sat down on the hard surface, stunned, thinking, right hand at the side of the vest and left gripping the pocket knife. It was blunt... it would cut away slowly, and she would scream, and the lordling would be pleased. But not that way... not in the ecstatic way. No, no... at least he owed her some respect. Respect - to hear her final plea -...

"I 'ate you," he hissed to nobody in particular, and the wind whistled back. "My lordling will be prou' to 'ave me..." But then - she could make a ripple effect. Could be the first Earthian Helper. Maybe she'd save the planet from destruction? No. To think that that far back.... it'd be in a hundred baby-suns times, that's what!

"She could have a child... in fifteen baby-suns. She could be the first Earthian Lady... become an upper-er... return her pink quartz. Perhaps the damsel isn't a burglar," faintly whispered Euginie. She had quietly and tenderly laid aside the hands that'd been thrown upon her and she slid away from the body. "I feel like a mother to this child. I never had one. She pressed to me... her weight... her heat... it's all familiar to me. My senses, my spirits - I'm blooming again."

The woman stood and and suddenly she looked grotesque. The dwarf wanted to scream out. Her eyes were both unseeing, glued to skin with blood, but perhaps the darned woman could see through her lashes? Her cheeks were torn, bone showing, hair sticky and covered in... leaves, and more of the sticky red substance. Like soy sauce in Earthian.... "I can see." Euginie whispered. "With my senses, I tasted the air with the tip of my tongue and your heartbeat is a siren inside me."

The dwarf stayed still, sitting upon the ground.
She now extended out her hand, sighing, weighing him in - not with her eyes but with her ears, for she heard his breaths low and hard. "After all, I used to be your lordling's woman, do you remember not?" And suddenly the woman walked over to to the empty grave, and she selected her twig again.

Damn.... the dwarf thought. He was dumb. And then the woman pointed it at her face - which, of course, didn't take away the scars, for those were impossible to heal! - rather, all the blood was gone and the face was glistening from just being washed, as if... and the scars were lining her skin, but gone was the weak girl. And now her hair changed, too - to a golden blonde, and her eyes went to a dark and boiling red, for without the sticky substance the eyes could be opened again.

And finally did her outfit change; Euginie stood in front of the dwarf with a smug look about her torn lips, for she was in a dress like her eyes - but it was quite very revealing, with a cut going up, boldly, so that one of her legs was seen fully and and there was a large gap at her chest, collar low.

"I can go... to my dear... and he may execute you," said Euginie, beaming. "Remember all those times ago when I first came to him?" And then suddenly, the thought flashed right before the dwarf's eyes;

***

Euginie wore a dress see-through, so that the lordling could see her bra. It was like mail, except smooth like cotton, and her hair was up in a beehive. The dwarf and her were friends - long ago - and they walked through the gates of a ruined area, he remembered.

Now they were in the front yard, and as Euginie saw a handsome man standing and fighting with a gòœnś against a young green-skinned boy, who was cowering in the corner of the yard, against the iron fence, moaning, she smiled curtly.

Euginie was many years younger. She was about twenty, to count in Earthian, and she walked over to the man boldly - nonetheless. She pulled back her shoulders, and sat down on the bench, patting the seat beside herself. At first, the lordling scowled - But she flashed him the smile of a lady who knew what she was doing, and she batted her lashes so he took a seat beside her. The final "bullet" flew to the heart of the green-skinned boy, and that was how the last race of his kind was extinct.

Euginie touched the collar of the lordling and grinned. She felt his hair - touched behind his ears - and whispered something to him, lips brushing his cheek. "I want to see you, tonight, my place..." she had murmured, and the lordling surrendered.

That night he must have thought that she was quite the woman for him!! Sure, she had a beautiful body with hair like the brow of the night and straight spine and fireworks in his eyes, and she acted as a woman five years into her prime, but the lordling still kissed her back.

And the dwarf was there. He watched the last of the green kind dying, and the flirting, and everything else and how the lordling took him in and was nice. But the night Euginie left... the lordling spanked his dwarf, and he yowled, and then snake liver had been given to him on a golden platter.

***

The dwarf stroked his scraggly beard and felt his eyes going moist, so he rubbed at them and looked at Euginie again. "Wha''s there yar stick cannot do..? Aye, bu' I 'ave one myself...." and he drew out his own, and then he raised one knee, slamming fat fists unto his leg. The twig snapped. He ... he was only holding his pocket knife now, and Euginie talked to him...

"You, I say - you are the lordling's coward, and he's a cheeky bastard," she growled, prowling closer to the dwarf. On further inspection, all the twigs honestly looked more like wands; smooth, with edges rounded off, each one the colour of ivory. To cast a spell one simply had to utter the ancient Consilii words, and think of what one was trying to do, and then - mentally or not, something would happen, sending off foam - lights - sparks -... and better, all got their wands at the Shattered School, a gloomy building atop a cliff facing down unto the mouth of water. They said, time never stops...

"I... I know what yer thinking," said the dwarf quickly, and he raised his pocket knife. "If.... if I don't kill 'er...."