The Girl With The Crimson Eyes

56: Silent Killer

Remnya

The shadow of a Redwood tree loomed over Remnya, who sat atop a hill observing the village of Andras above the horizon. A hummingbird hovered over her head while she ate her pumpkin pie and hummed a sad song. Merle had gone ahead, promising to leave the boy at the hospital while she rested. However, he had ordered her to meet him at the village square before sunset.

Remnya finished her meal and planted the remaining pumpkin seeds into the ground. She took a deep breath, stretching her arms and legs, and then put on the cap Merle had given her to hide her horns. Lastly, she shoved her jacket into one of the travel bags and rolled up her tail under her pants.

The road ahead was a downhill dirt path, squeezed by farmlands where cows and sheep roamed freely. Having rested, Remnya felt her body full of energy again, and the cozy sight of nature helped her calm her mind and heart. She walked for half an hour until the village entrance rose in the distance.

Andras was smaller than her hometown, yet elegant and tidy, with rustic buildings and paved streets. People looked modest and hardened by agricultural labor, but most wore a smile on their faces, something she wasn't used to seeing. The only sounds in the village belonged to street merchants selling fruits, meat, and strange handicrafts, accompanied by the occasional roar of some old car that drove by without a destination.

Out of curiosity, Remnya approached a nearby vendor to check his items. Rune necklaces crafted with beautiful stones, gold and silver rings, and fancy earrings sparkling like stars, among other things, lay over a red velvet carpet.

A man with white hair like snow locked his droopy eyes on her and smiled. "Welcome, young lady! Are you looking for something? We have a beautiful collection of garnets that would sure go great with your eyes."

"Hello!" Remnya said, scanning the jewelry with embedded stones that shone like a rainbow under the sunlight. However, she looked for something else, a cursed item made out of death and bones. Remnya needed to know if the villagers shared the same customs as those monsters. "I am looking for something." She paused, gathering the strength to push the words out of her mouth. "Do you have. . . horns?"

The man's smile faded as he furrowed his eyebrows. "What kind of horns?"

"Small horns," Remnya murmured.

Silence.

"Like animal horns?" He twisted his lips, wrinkles spreading through his face. "Or Nephilim horns?"

Remnya took a moment to process his question and nodded. "Nephilim horns."

He folded his arms and bore his pupils into her. "Sorry, young lady. I think you're asking the wrong person. Not only that's illegal, but it's also a grave sin against the Lord." He scowled. "Why are you interested in such a thing?"

"I am not!" Remnya rushed to say, feeling stupid for even asking about it. "I was, uh. . ." An idea popped up in her head. "Doing my research for school. . . Yeah! That's it!"

"School?" The man scanned her from head to toe and raised an eyebrow. "You're not from around here, are you?" He made a long pause, and then, his eyes widened like two moons. "Oh! I beg your pardon, young lady. I hadn't noticed it until now." He bowed to her. "You must be the daughter of one of the overlords of Crysalton."

"What?" Remnya blinked with confusion.

"Aren't you part of the commission of Crysalton that arrived last month?"

"I. . ." She hesitated. "I am not."

"Oh, my apologies then." The man let out a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Forgive this silly old man. I've been worrying way too much about my first interaction with the overlords."