2 - Black Teeth

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Eight years ago, Summer, Cambridge

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Eight years ago, Summer, Cambridge.

It didn't take long for Flávia to grow bored in the English House. Her Pai had left her with an old rich couple with a grand house in town. Cambridge was nothing like home. The couple were stuffy and dull, with cream coloured carpets and walls, and dark wooden furniture that marked when you put water glasses on it, and silly old paintings of ugly old men on the walls collecting dust. When she had explored every inch of the house that she could get to, she pulled on her shoes and decided to walk somewhere. The House led out onto a part of town called 'Newnham village', and not long she found herself walking down a country lane. The birds twittered happily to one another, the hedgerows a bring spring green that messily lined the stony road. The grass was thin and soft, not the dry wide leafed stuff that itches when you sat on it that they had in Brazil. Turning a corner, she caught sight of a figure reaching into the brambles and gathering fists of small little black berries from the thorns. Flávia smirked. Stupid English. He'll make himself sick taking wild berries like that. She pressed herself against a wooded post and peered over, Ubirajara at her side. He was about her height, maybe taller, with dark spiky hair. His jacket was faded and worn, and his boots had definitely seen better days. They were unlaced and a few sizes too big for him, by the looks of it.

In his hand was a clump of the berries, which he scooped greedily into his mouth. His fingers dripped like blood from the juice, and had purple in his nails. He looked up, and smiled that demonic toothy smile right at her.

Flávia gasped, gripping into the post. He opened his mouth and bared his teeth like a tiger. They were stained a terrifying inky black and looked sharp like fangs from the flesh of the berries.

Following Ubirajara, she stepped out onto the dusty pathway, glancing at his daemon. She had transformed from a small shimmering starling pecking at the berries to a monitor lizard, her tongue flickering menacingly as she watched on with beady black eyes.

"What do you want?" the boy asked boldly, advancing a few steps, a snarky tone in his voice.

"You shouldn't eat wild berries." Began Flávia. "Especially dark ones from sharp bushes. They make you sick for days."

The boy chuckled, a mean glint in his eye. He reached his arm into the mass of thorns and picked some more, tauntingly popping another one of the evil fruits in his mouth. "You're scared. Maeya can feel your heartbeat." He added cruelly.

"Am not," said Flávia defiantly, crossing her arms.

"Yes you are. Don't you know what I am?" He asked through a mean squint.

"Just an ugly boy."

"I'm a Gyptian." He replied, spinning the word with such malice. "And you're a landloper. We hunt your babies and cook them in stews." He said in a tone that Flávia could not decipher. It was almost like he was telling a joke, and it was unnerving.

"You don't scare me." Flávia said again, although she was starting to think otherwise. The boy raised an eyebrow. To prove her point, she dove her hand into the bushes and retrieved a handful of berries, the thorns grazing her forearms with their sharp points. Staring at him right in the eye, and without looking to pick out the ripe ones, she scooped the whole handful into her mouth. A succulent sweetness burst in her mouth, punctuated by a tantalising sharpness. They were delicious. She smiled, the juice dripping down her chin. The boy grinned. From behind her, a voice was calling her name from the house. She turned instinctually, and when she turned back to the boy he had vanished.

She was dragged back into the house by the maid and got a scolding for staining her dress. At dinner, she recounted the encounter to Mr and Mrs Moreton.

When she mentioned the word 'Gyptian' Mrs Moreton choked on her stew.

"You are not to speak that boy again. Gyptians are dangerous people, especially for children. Stay well clear from the river and the canal ways. And wash all your clothes tonight and scrub your skin. We don't want any of their filth in this house."

Flávia looked for the boy down the lane the next day, but he did not come. She did not see him again that summer, but she did not forget.





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So I released two chapters at once, this one is a flashback. We'll be slowly building up the story and character relationships with these chapters, and I wanted to get this one out as I actually wrote it nearly a year ago but it was sitting my drafts. I know this one is short but I'm really proud of it. I hope you like it! Can you guess who the boy is?



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OF DÆMONS AND DUST, 2022
his dark materials applyfic

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