With the mission completed we head back to our home city of Strofi. It's been a while since a customer had requested an entire head but regardless of their obscene desires I still meet their wishes. Holding a burlap sack I swing it over my shoulder as Abiba opens the door to Sir Dolion's establishment. I've passed this building a multitude of times but I do not know what purpose it serves. There are no signs and the windows are boarded up which results in a dreary poorly lit room.
Sir Dolion stands up from a lone round table and smiles flashing pearly white teeth. He saunters over to us before speaking.
"Wonderful!" He exclaims clapping his hands together. I drop the burlap sack off my shoulder and hand it over to him. Looking into the bag a slow grin snakes across his terra cotta-coloured face while his black bushy eyebrows raise in excitement.
"A job well-done girls, and for that here is your payment." He runs back to the table picking up two manila envelopes and hands us each one. Impatiently I break the seal and pull out the money. Flicking through the quarts I raise my brow and scoff.
"What kind of farced behaviour is this?" I say unamused.
"You have only given me 10 quarts you promised 200," I say with slight annoyance in my voice. He nearly chuckles and twirls a finger around his mustache.
"Calm down Ms.Opal you already the rest of your payment." I ruffle my brows in confusion before remembering the gems.
"W-what you want us to keep the white sapphire for ourselves?!" I say incredulously.
"But of course, that pouch of white sapphire is worth more than all the money Mr.Chit has slowly been stealing from me for the past 10 years." I raise my brows as I turn to Abiba. A generous gift indeed but at what cost...
"Thank you Sir Dolion but we cannot accept this payment." I hand the black pouch back to him before speaking.
"I'd much rather have the 200 hundred quarts instead." He looks between me and Abiba with a tight smile plastered across his face.
"You're a smart woman indeed, Ms.Opal ... Well then let me get you your full payment."
***
Once Abiba and I part ways for the day. I do the same thing I always do once I return to Strofi, visit the corner bakery to satisfy my rambunctious sweet tooth. I guess the saying habits die hard is true because my addiction to everything sweet stems from my childhood. When I was a child whenever I had tantrums my parents would silence me with sweets and the habit only got worse once I got older. Whenever I was feeling ill or worried I would suppress my irksome emotions with something sweet, so much so that it has become a simple routine of mine to have pastries after every bounty hunt.
Once I arrive at my favourite bakery, Sir Pastries bakery shop, I'm met with a familiar and kind face.
"Oh hello, Opal how are you." Mrs. Bager says with a smile on her face. I immediately smile and go to give the elderly woman a hug. I've known her and her husband for years and in a way, they compensate for the parental figures I've always longed for but never truly had. Once I pull back I notice that her once black hair is slowly making way for new gray ones and her eyes are transforming from chestnut brown to a muddled gray.
"How's your vision Mrs. Bager, do you need a pair of spectacles I ca-" She waves her hand disregarding my concern for her deteriorating vision.
"No dear, I'm fine. It's just natural when you're old as me you start losing key senses. Now come we've got a new line of pastries that I want you to try." She says while dragging me to the counter.
***
After taste-testing each pastry my stomach weighs heavy and my sweet tooth has been properly satisfied. I sigh in content and rub my stomach.
"How is it?" She questions.
"Oh, Delicious as always Mrs.Bager." I pull out 2 quarts and set them on the counter.
"Oh no please you don't need to pay, since you are such a loyal customer your taste testing of our new pastries is good enough!" I go to protest but she pushes the money back to me. As I'm tucking the money away the kitchen door swings open revealing an unfamiliar face.
A boy with an almond brown complexion and brown curly hair comes rushing to the counter with a tray of fresh biscuits. Setting them down he leans onto the counter while shaking his hands.
"My goodness is that hot!" He says blowing on his blistering hands.
"Pardon the intrusion but I think I messed up our batch of oatmeal cookies, I accidentally dropped too much flour an-,"
"Who are you," I say abruptly. He turns to me and blinks for a second before wiping his hands on his apron and speaking.
"The names Kalakuta but I prefer you use Kal." I look over to Mrs. Bager and a look of exhaustion takes over once she turns to the boy. He must be the reason for her graying hair.
"Once again Kal, I told you to be more mindful when making the pastries, we're not made of money." She says raising her voice causing him to cringe.
"Uh, r-right my apologies Grandma I'll try to be more careful next time." Grandma?! I look in between Kal and Mrs. Bager and raise my brows before my eyes widen in shock. Their appearance is uncanny. They both have the same almond brown skin, big brown eyes, curly hair and even their face shape is similar. My mouth hangs open in disbelief for a moment before I compose myself.
"M-Mrs.Bager I never knew you had a grandson?" I say astonished.
"Uh, yes it is true although I can seldom stand the boy. You see he has moved here from Rommedi and after failing to graduate from the academy he came here to study under his grandfather in the arts of pastry making." She says languidly. I look at him taking in his scrawny body and exiguous demeanour. No wonder he did not graduate from the academy.
No matter where you go there is an academy in every town and each contains the same universal curriculum of combat and literacy. I wonder how dull the boy must have been to fail.
"May I ask what your name is miss?" He says looking at me.
"Opal nothing more nothing less," I said cooly. He nods his head before coming around the counter and sticking out his hand. I take it and give it a firm shake but while I'm shaking his hand all the colour drains out of his face before he pulls it away. He looks at me as If I slaughtered his entire family. With quivering lips and a pale face, he speaks in a shaking voice.
"T-those b-black gloves, w-would you happen to be the soulless bounty hunter." He says bug-eyed. My jaw tenses as I grind my teeth in indignation. That name soulless bounty hunter has been used by gossipers who wish to tarnish my name and replace my being with someone who is no longer human but a living soul eater.
That boils my blood.
My hands slowly form into a fist as I try to breathe calmly. Ever since I could remember my hands have been gloved sort of becoming a second skin to me, so much so that I have forgotten the shape and colour of my own hand. I look back up at the quivering boy and slowly nod.
"W-well yes I am a bounty hunter but n-"
"There are posters of you plastered on every wall in town!" I'm taken aback by his fearful tone and somewhat hurt by how quickly a friendly smile can switch into one of horror. I look between him and Mrs. Begar. She looks at me with apologetic eyes before setting her hand on Kal's shoulder.
"Kal please Opal would never hurt an innocent soul." He shakes his head whilst pointing at me with an accusing finger.
"I've heard horrendous stories about you, how you hunt and kill without mercy, I've heard rumours that you can take a man's soul in one touch!" He says now shaking while staring at my gloved hands with wide eyes.
"P-please, how could you believe such distasteful rumours," I say getting a little angry.
"Even though the work I do is frowned upon by many I am still helping many who have suffered or have been wrongly lied to by their adversaries! Moreover, how dare you associate my being in the same sentence as a soul eater!" Now fuming I grab him by the collar and stare him dead in the eye. He squeezes his eyes shut in fear before pushing himself away causing him to stumble back and fall to the ground. I look down at him still seething before turning on my heel and leaving the shop.
***
The moment I get into my room I collapse to the floor and begin crying. Tears of anger and hurt mixed with the painful memories of my childhood hit me full force.
Flashback
"C-can I play with you guys too?" All the children looked at me with their beady eyes before one girl points at me and scoffs.
"Haha, have you gone mad why would we play with a soul snatcher!"
"Yeah, why would we let a soul snatcher play with us!" Another chimes in and then another.
"Everyone run if you don't want to die." All the kids scream before running away leaving me behind. The memory of that day coupled with other painful memories of my childhood is all brought to the fourth front while tears spill down my face.
I look down at my gloved hands with blurry vision as tears splash onto the black leather. Why was I cursed with such a heinous ability? In such a world that praises the powerful and those blessed with superhuman abilities it still perplexes me why I'm burdened with such an odious one.
I rip off my gloves revealing my midnight skin and thin fingers. I leave the gloves on the ground and walk over to the window sill looking down to the street. The gray cobblestone streets that leads down the hill into the poorer parts of the city which hold the normal folk and pariahs of society are starkly different, from the housing and the shops that reside up the hill which stand cleanly and pristine. Although I have been living high class for the majority of my life it still has me wondering what it would be like to live at the bottom of society.
Averting my attention to the left of me I see the academy I used to train, which sits high and mighty at the top of the hill. Narrowing my eyes I grit my teeth as bad memories from my time there resurface.
"That place is supposed to breed powerful warriors and finely tune people's abilities but instead it pits the students against each other nearly costing many their life," I mumble to myself. I turn my head away from the window and direct my sight to the withering potted plant on my window sill. Frowning while looking at the browning leaves I sigh before propping my hand under my chin and my elbow on the window sill.
What is the point of surviving if your very existence is in vain? I wave my hand over the plant and watch the leaves slowly turn black and crumble into mush.
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