Fliege

Chapter 1

"Ugh..." I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head in an attempt to block out the rising sun. "I hate early mornings..."

I stayed in bed for a few more seconds, willing the night sky to return and my rest to continue. 'I doubt I had more than three hours of sleep, considering I stayed up late with the boys again.' I thought miserably as I got out of bed, my eyes sore and jaw ready to fall off after yawning more than a hundred times.

Shuffling towards the wardrobe after putting on my glasses, I opened it to reveal a black cloak, a white blouse and a set of old clothes. Tilting my head in confusion at the lack of my usual outfit, a sudden realisation came to me. Oh. I looked down at my clothes (were those bloodstains I saw?), faintly remembering the events of the previous night.

It started when I had accidentally smacked a cat in the face with some garlic. Its owner, the local overlord Big Chungus, had used my face to clean the floor of the market with his Altair, an avian that was summoned through ceremony by dripping the blood of a human below the age of eighteen as an offering to the God of Creation, Tsubaxori. Altairs were usually reserved for the nobles, and acquiring one was a feat many would be impressed by. Big Chungus' Altair was a very fat cockerel, who had leapt onto my head and pushed me across the wet floor just with its mere weight.

I was pretty sure they had just slaughtered a pig, and the blood had gotten onto my shirt. My friends, Jedi and Shameer, had tried to charge at him but also ultimately failed, and both got broken noses. To be fair, I had obviously no chance against him and his big chunky muscles, so I just cursed Tsubaxori under my breath and left quickly, despite the anger at being humiliated in public rushing through my veins. If I had an Altair myself, I would have retaliated with my own attack. But alas, I had no such bird, and had to run back home with my two injured friends.

I had come home with the two of my friends bloody and beaten and dressed their wounds before sending them home, knowing that their parents would most likely be out for my head the next morning. Said friends would also most likely defend me in my experience of knowing them. My other friend, Darius, (Also known as Danish Pastry) had called me just after midnight, telling me he had a plan. What plan exactly, I do not know.

Sighing, I decided to make do with the old set of clothing. Before I left the house, I realised I had forgotten my gloves as I put my hand on the door. The four pointed star that marked the back of my right hand glowed faintly in the shadows, shimmering with an unknown power. I clicked my tongue in annoyance, grabbing the worn leather gloves hanging by the door and covering the star. From as far as I could remember, I always had a feeling that the mark was something to be hidden, to cover from the public eye. Whenever I attempted to leave the house without a pair of gloves, a sinking feeling that everything would go wrong would rise, almost to the point of choking me.

I finally pushed open the door, squinting my eyes in the light of a sunrise. I had lived on top of a hill in an old cottage since I was young, going down to the village during the day and returning to my house at night. I lived alone for my entire life, either that or I simply forgot as the passage of time took my memories away. The only things I can remember is my usual routine and a woman with long black hair that occasionally appears in my dreams.

I make my way down the hill, almost tripping over a stone on the unbroken path. As usual, my three friends were waiting for me at the foot of the hill, but this time Pastry (Aka Darius) had a roll of parchment under his arm, and the other two were clowning around in the tall grasses.

"So, what's this grand plan you have, my most light and fluffy of pastries?" I greeted my usual overblown way, beginning to suspect that something horribly ridiculous was in the making.

"Shut up," Darius deadpanned, glaring mockingly as he handed me the parchment. "Here's the plan: we use the lizards to scare Big Chungus in his own house, since everyone obviously knows his weakness, especially the blue ones. Since Shameer and Jedi are already gathering the lizards and I'm concocting the plan, you shall be the one to lead the execution of this marvellous scheme." He gestured towards the two boys, Jedi screaming while a red lizard nipped at his injured nose.

"I'm game if you are, but how am I supposed to do this slippery plan of a thingamajig, though?" Raising my eyebrows as I read the piece of paper marked with messy handwriting and a poorly drawn diagram of Big Chungus' house. "Is this map even reliable?" 

I bet even a four year old could draw something more realistic, I thought silently, biting back the words.

Eying the squiggles on the map, a growing dread welled up from my stomach. "What even are these?" I asked, trailing a finger over a couple of black scribbles at the top left of the map.

"Well. it's a garden.." Darius remarked sullenly, as the small group burst out into laughter, Jedi even laughing so hard the lizard fell off his nose. "I'd like to see you try to draw it better from inside his house. " He snapped, casting a glare in my direction.

"Chill," I replied, chuckling.

If looks could kill, I'd be dead several times over already.

"Thankfully, you're the only one of us mad enough to break into Big Chungus' house to carry this out!" Jedi snickered, causing another wave of uproarious laughter to sweep through the group of boys.

"But do not worry, for I have been to Big Chungus' house before," Darius said, snatching back the paper. "My dad had a proposal with the Mayor, who is Big Chungus' father, thank Tsubaxori, and took me along with him to 'observe'."

"This will certainly do," I said, holding up the map "though it is nothing more than a few scribbles on paper..." I added, dancing aside to avoid a playful punch on the shoulder.

Shameer handed Darius a small box, and as he opened it, a blue tail leapt out, startling me. I had a feeling that Mission: Blue Chungus was about to go well.

I took the offered box, grimacing at the thought of having to carry a box of reptiles into the Mayor's house. It would have to be done under the cover of darkness, in all secrecy,  we decided. It was too risky to do this in broad daylight (although I personally felt that it had an equal risk factor all the same).

The guards of the Mayor would apparently be stinking drunk in the local tavern during the period between twilight and sunrise. Taking advantage of this golden window of time, we would slip into the house, releasing our slithering selection of reptilian friends into the house, and in the ensuing chaos, we would each take a room and remove one item of importance from the obnoxious Big Chungus. We all agreed, such treasures were certainly not deserving to be in his possession.

Great, I thought, all I need now is to look the part. As we headed back to my house to finalise the plan, I thought of all the cool things that Big Chungus might have squirreled away in his huge mansion: gold rings, jade armbands, seals adored with rubies, a pair of brand new expensive music appliances, gems, jewels and riches galore, being the son of the Mayor. As the boys trashed my kitchen, I grabbed the black cloak off the rack in my wardrobe, clipping the front with a gold pin that I found (Ahem, totally not stolen) a while back. The sun was setting, it was time.