Setting the hot stew gingerly upon the table, I collected silver from an elderly man who looked so bony he could break. He acknowledged me with a quick glance and a smile that looked quite gaunt. Tonight, the pub was dealing with its usual customers – haggard men and women all who were middle-aged or older, looking for a way to get rid of their sorrows. I was a bit baffled by it. How could humans, who were on the brink of a very fine line between life and death spend all they had on liquids?
I had soon learned that I had found myself in a very penniless land. The humans had sunken faces that seemed to plead for some kind of nourishment and swollen eyes that seemed never able to catch a peaceful slumber.
At first, I thought, "Are these the humans I was so afraid of?" But soon I dismissed the idea; the souls of the men that I had stolen didn't have eyes like these humans. They weren't helpless. And they hadn't looked as forlorn as the humans in Annwnn. So I asked Mrs. Abell, "Are there other people outside of this land?"
She had given me a strange look, as if she didn't believe in my ignorance and chuckled a bit. "Of course there are dear! I would hope the people of Annwnn aren't the only people in the world. Then all hope would be lost!"
Afterwards, I learned that Annwnn wasn't a land exactly. It was bit of land, yes. But specifically, it was a town. Without raising suspicion, I managed to ask Mrs. Abell's husband, Mr. Ulric, vague questions about humankind. Only then I realized I spent the entire two-hundred years of my life living benighted and isolated from the Truest's greatest creation – the world.
In spite of this, I still wanted to return to Godwich. It pained me so much to be separated from the only place I had known so well. It was so uncomfortable to be in such a foreign place, with foreign creatures and foreign things.
And so, my nervousness got the best of me tonight.
I was so anxious that I tripped and what I was carrying all came crashing down. Sprawled out on the ground like a fool, I just sat there as something wet dripped from my hair. In the midst of my clumsiness, the cup of ale I was carrying had been thrown into the air, dropped and rolled to the other side of the room.
The haggard patrons looked up slowly from their drinks towards the ruckus.
"Oh dear," Already Mrs. Abell was by my side, giving me a firm clasp around my arm and pulling me up.
"I'm so sorry." I apologized quietly as she collected the fallen items, letting my head hang down in shame.
"Don't apologize, just go get yourself cleaned up, aye?" She gave me a small smile and went off into the kitchen.
"What happened this time?" Ascot asked me as I wiped a rag against my forehead. Even though we had only just met two days ago, Ascot treated me as if he'd known me forever.
I just shrugged as I did all the time, not saying a word. I was particularly awkward around human men. After all, it was not that long ago when I was planting kisses against their lips. And eating their pneumas.
I could tell his gray stare wasn't leaving me. "You've got to talk to me sometime."
My brows slightly furrowed. Why won't he leave me alone?
"I promise I won't bite."
I'm afraid it won't be you doing the biting.
I dipped the rag in the bucket of water and wiped my arm. "I just spilled something." I said, though it came out as a whisper.
He had heard me. "If you need any help with carrying things, just let me know, aye?"
I nodded and he left.
I let out a heavy sigh of relief and smacked the wet rag back on the table. Don't get me wrong. Ascot seemed like a nice human man. But as a Fyglia, I am prone to uncovering things that are hidden. And as far as I could tell, Ascot had taken a bit of liking to me.
With one courageous nod, I left the kitchen to serve even the loneliest patrons in the pub this evening.
The first thing that caught my attention were the two figures settled on the stools at the counter. They were wearing dark cloaks with hoods that hid their faces. My eyes trained on them, I placed down another cup of ale for a customer and retrieved payment.
Mr. Ulric was behind the counter tonight. He uncapped a barrel and filled up two cups, handing each to the cloaked individuals. My nose twitched, sniffing the contents in the air. They were men. They talked to one another like they were best mates as they cracked jokes and cackled loudly. I didn't feel so out of place once I heard their accents, which differed from the rest of the townspeople.
For the rest of the evening, I kept a watchful eye at them, even catching a glimpse of the green eyes of one. Soon, all of the patrons left – except for the men in cloaks. Even though their laughter was quite loud, their words were exchanged under hushed voices.
I sat down at the lone table stationed at the back of the pub, the yellow-glow of the lamps alighting the area, putting me in such a tiresome trance. As every night, the pub seemed dead with its ghost-like human patrons and they moved in and out so slowly it was as if they had nowhere to go. Their melancholia drifted within the air and lingered on me as if it were my skin.
My head fell on the table. Was life this miserable outside of Godwich? If it was, I definitely wanted to go back. Suddenly, the loud, obnoxious groan of the front door pierced my ears.
My head shot up. A tall, young man sauntered to the bar and took a seat next to the cloaked men who halted their conversation and glanced in his direction from underneath their hoods. The lad raised a finger to get Mr. Ulric's attention.
"Ale, please." I heard him say as the room became hushed. As Mr. Ulric uncorked the barrels and poured the drink, I found myself somewhat hypnotized by this stranger as he ran a hand through the brown waves of his hair. The lad nodded with appreciation and he retrieved his ale, tossing a silver into Mr. Ulric's palms. My eyes were fixated upon this man, whose aura was encompassed with mystery and raised the tiny hairs from my arms.
"Aye, merchant, yes?" A voice came from one of the cloaked hoods. The lad took a heavy swig, sat his cup down and turned towards them. If only I could make out his face, I thought, raising up in my chair to get a better look. The words exchanged by the cloaked figures and the lad was inaudible, I could only make out certain words from reading the lips of the lad.
The young man continuously kept ordering a cup of ale countless times as the chuckles grew louder and louder each time they escaped the mouths of the hooded men. Then my eyes went wide.
A feeling I had never gotten before overwhelmed my body, leaving me trembling uncontrollably. I could've sworn something hot and scorching had branded my poor back which was soon replaced by the feeling of an icy touch.
I breathed, my hair falling in my face. I sat in my chair and looked at what had unfolded. Before me, the stool of one of the cloaked men had flown from under him with a loud crash and he stood a menacing stance, his aura both tense and frightening. Not long afterwards, the lad's stool flew from under him as well, only he stood to point an object aiming towards the cloaked man's throat. Within the scuffle, the man's hood floated from his head and landed on his shoulders, uncovering his identity.
The bald, cloaked man growled. His partner stood up from his chair. I grimaced.
"Are you threatenin' me, merchant?" He hissed, through what I could tell was clenched teeth. I gave an anxious glance towards Mr. Ulric, only to find that he was in his own state of shock. Mr. Ulric just stood there, motionless, with the wooden cup overflowing with the ale that poured from the barrel.
I could see the young man's knuckles turn white as he tightened his grip on the dagger.
"Hell's bells... am I?" He let out a low snicker, the ends of his mouth curling against his chiseled face. His sly remark must of ticked off the bald man, judging from what he said next.
"Listen, you little shit. I will rip your tongue out while stabbing those pretty eyes of yours and feed them to my men. Boy, you have no idea who you're dealing with." Bald's words spat hatred and anger. I had never heard something so disturbing. I felt myself cringing with disgust.
"Easy boys," Mr. Ulric blinked, finally corking the barrel. "Let's not get riled up here. Son, I'll have to ask you to put down the dagger." Mr. Ulric motioned to the lad, whose eyes hadn't left the bald man.
"Son..." He persisted, but the young man didn't even move a muscle.
Before I knew what I was doing, my body got up from the chair and started moving towards the men. Pollen! My conscious screamed. What are you doing?! And I really had no idea. I had no idea why I got up from my little, safe, isolated corner of the room. I bit my lip as I moved closer. You shouldn't meddle in human business. Let them sort out their problems on their own. Sit down. But I couldn't! The last thing I wanted to do was to get involved, but my body...my body had a mind of its own!
With insecurity, I took the hair from behind my ears, hoping that somehow my long strands would protect me from what was to come. Bald was the first to acknowledge me. His eyes didn't lose its gruesome intent but started smiling at me with wickedness. They then flickered back to the lad as he smirked.
"Dare to kill me in front of the poor lass?" He tilted his head, both his face and words smug. Next, the man whose green eyes I merely saw in a glance, met mine. His eyes were indeed a light green, his shaggy hair pressed against his face. And although his face was not exactly dirty, it had this...dirty look about it.
"Pollen..." I heard Mr. Ulric begin. I looked up to see him motioning at me to leave the room with his eyes. But of course, my body disobeyed.
My voice was small at first. Very small. "Sir..." I started. "Please, let go of your...dagger." I told the lad, praying to god that he would see my pretty face and release the sharp object.
But he didn't. He did not even look at me.
"Sir-"
"Aye! The lass is talking to you!" Bald's attitude was no longer morbid and merciless, in fact, in the few moments in which he had seen me, he seemed rather amused.
Still, the young man remained stubborn.
"I swear to you, if that dares to slightly poke the tiny hairs on my neck...I will kill you merchant." Bald growled now, losing his humor. Green Eyes placed a hand on Bald's shoulder. "Don't get too angry," I heard him whisper. "We'll get him back, we always do." Though he whispered into the ears of his friend, his green eyes never left me.
I swallowed heavily in my throat. Something about these men...were off.
"Listen to yourself. You're a blundering typhoon." The lad replied calmly.
The vein on the side of Bald's bald head pulsed, his face growing red. "I ought'a blast you into smithereens! Bastard!" Bald barked viciously.
My heart nearly thumping in my chest, I turned to grab a cup from one of the tables. Without much thought, I took a step towards the lad. Hurling the contents of what was in the cup, I watched as it splashed in the young man's face, drenching him. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and then as if he was awakened, opened them again. His grip on the dagger had loosened and wandered away from its target.
The lad looked at me with a furious glare, his eyes a shocking blue. He finally recognized me. I stumbled a little, shrinking backwards at the sight of his intense eyes.
In the spur of the moment, the dagger was knocked out of the lad's hands by a silver blur. Now the roles had changed. The bald man lept on the young man and they knocked stools out of the way as he pressed him against the wall. My eyes widened when I saw the sword's blade pressed against his neck.
I had made a mistake.
Both the bald man and the lad breathed heavily as they narrowed eyes at each other. Green Eyes ran to the side of his mate and tried to pull him off. "Grifon!" He yelled at his friend, who was so driven to hurt the man. The bald man growled fiercely in the young man's face as Green Eyes finally got him to back down.
"Get off me!" He raged as Green Eyes ushered him backwards.
"There's no point," As it seemed, Green Eyes was opposite of his mate and kept his calm façade. "He's just a merchant with useless words." He tossed the coin on the bar counter and it rolled counterclockwise a couple of times, spinning closer to the surface until it completely stopped, laying on one of its sides.
The bald man slid his sword back in his sheath and pulled his hood back over his head. He and his mate made their way slowly to the door.
"Don't come back again." A familiar voice called out to them. Both of the men turned to Mr. Ulric, whose brows were furrowed. "You all have created a ruckus in me pub, so don't bother coming back!" He told them, his voice laced with irritation. "You won't be served."
"Aye?" Green Eyes replied. "Are you sure you want to ban us from such a place? A place to relieve our stress?" His questions seemed quite rhetorical.
"You should be banning that bastard if anything!" Jolis pointed at the young man who stood against the wall, his eyes trained on both men.
"My request is final. Do not come back here. Any of you." Mr. Ulric persisted, folding his arms across his chest.
The bald man whispered something into the ear of Green Eyes, but Green Eyes shook his head. "Keeping men from enjoying themselves from a hard day's work is a bit uncalled for, yes?" Another rhetorical question. When Mr. Ulric did not answer, Green Eyes slammed the door open, and the cold air blew in, blowing the hair from out of my face. He disappeared into the dark as the door went to close.
With one hand, the bald man stopped the door from shutting, and grinned at us. "You all...have another thing coming." And then, he was gone.
My eyes, still wide from what it had seen, looked to his direction – the stunning male human who was leaning against the wall. Again, I was hypnotized. Hypnotized by something human. He looked at me too. And his stare. His stare was...mesmerizing.
Cornflower blue eyes, I thought.
Mr. Ulric's voice tore me away from my dreamy trance. "That means you too."
My breathing doubled as the young man stepped towards me, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. He looked at me with his gaze – his eyes were drowsy and in some kind of trance itself – and he stood over me.
He reached down and picked up his dagger, sliding it into the pouch of his waistband. I watched him as he dragged his feet to the door, his lethargy managed to lead him out of door.
Cornflower blue eyes.
"W-Wait!" I suddenly shouted, hurrying out from the pub.
The cool air slapped against my face and a dark, blue blanket of stars greeted me from above. I looked to the lamp's yellow glow cast upon the road and saw a stumbling figure, trudging into the darkness where the glow of the light faded away. Grabbing the ends of my skirt, I raced to catch up to him.
"Sir!" I called out to him once I approached him, but he continued on, even after looking over his shoulder.
"Sir," I insisted. "Please wait."
I could've sworn I heard him scoff as I trailed behind him. We were traveling in darkness now – a Fyglia following a mysterious man. But why was he walking so slowly? As if he were going to collapse right then and there? Was he hurt? Had the mean human managed to stab him with his sword?
I reached my hand out to touch his shoulder and he stopped. Just like that. Both a Fyglia and a human man, standing alone in the dark as if the two kinds were frozen in time. But with a turn and a grab to the wrist, the silence soon ended.
"What are you-" Before I could finish, I was swung around and shoved into a bricked surface. My heart skipped a beat when I looked up to see those two cornflower blue eyes – but to my disappointment, they hadn't shown in the darkness.
With contour of his features and the shadow of his body overwhelming me, the lad hovered above me. Now I knew how the dagger had felt within his hands. His fingers were clasped around my dainty wrist. From how hard he squeezed, it must've turned purple. I couldn't control the little gasps and helpless noises that escaped from my mouth.
"Why are you following me?" He asked, slamming his other hand against the wall. I shivered, half because of the cold and half because of his dominance. The heart in my chest sunk into my stomach. I couldn't even utter a word.
"Why are you following me?!" This time he yelled loudly, and I jumped from out my skin, a bit frightened of his tone. How dare he yell at you! My conscious screamed angrily. Incompetent human!
"I-I-I don't know!" I yelled back at him, narrowing my brows. In a softer voice, I answered again. "I don't know. I believe...I believe that I wanted to see if you were alright."
"You're one of them aren't you?"
"One of whom?" I asked, finding that my eyes were glued to his chest. I was too afraid to simply look up to see the mere shadow of his face and possibly his blue eyes as well. He didn't answer for a bit and then I realized what he was asking about.
"No, no. I'm not one of them. I could never be one of them. They're filthy humans that..." I covered my mouth with my free hand, surprised at what I said. Surely he couldn't have caught that. It was just a little slip up...
"Filthy humans? "
I guess he had. I swallowed the rest of my words. There was no way he was getting another word out of me. Why oh why did I follow him in the first place? It was because of those two cornflower, blue eyes, wasn't it. They hypnotized me and transfixed me as I had done with men when I was a siren. This was my punishment right?
"Are you...going to kill me?" Another small voice escaped from my mouth. I couldn't be killed now, after all I had to get back to Godwich at least to say my farewells.
He chuckled, sweeping my long hair from out of my eyes. And there I was. With a human who brushed my hair behind my ear. With a human who began caressing the side of my face. His fingers against my cheek made a blush creep up my neck. I gasped heavily, my chest, rising and falling as I made out his eyes in the dark, staring right at me.
"Sofyaa..." He hummed. I watched as he leaned in, his face getting closer and closer, his warm breath prickling the short hairs on my neck. I watched him as the tip of our noses touched and I watched as slightly tilted his head, his lips only a few inches away.
Sofyaa?
All I could stare at was his lips. And soon, they were on mine. The kiss that stole the souls of men was nothing compared to this one. His lips pressed against mine and the subtle glow of his cornflower blue eyes disappeared as he closed his eyes.
His lips were warm. Soft. And for a moment, it had hushed my screaming conscious, my worries and my burden. What if you consume him? At this very moment, you could take his soul – you've done it before, to many, many, many of them, my conscious told me. And then I remembered. I had to stop. I had to get home.
But once his grip around my wrist loosened, I didn't take any chances. I kneed him in his manhood.
"Oy-!" I watched the young man clutch his trousers as his knees buckled. He coughed as he fell on his knees, peering up at me through the dark.
I turned on my heel and rushed back to Ye Old Bull and Bush, the soft taps of my shoes and the distant coughs of the lad the only sounds echoing throughout the quiet, dead town of Annwnn.