The sun was setting, blue and purple shadows growing longer and darker. Small brown boots swung back and forth on a abandoned stone well, dancing over a dark abyss with no end in sight. Even smaller hands fiddled with a tin container, trying to force too-short nails underneath the lid to lift it up. A large dog whined beside her but Larka ignored Kitty for now, focusing more on the tin. He whined again and nudged her back with his snout.
“I’m trying to get it out, give me a second.” Larka huffed, fingernails chipping at the dented box to no avail.
“Girl!” Larka turned her head, looking over her shoulder at the barmaid that her mentor had been eyeing before he decided to go to a woman of the night. Larka figured the barmaid, having worked in a inn in Alliria, didn’t enjoy sleeping with drunks. Or maybe she didn’t enjoy sleeping with sloppy drunks that lacked princely charm. Maybe she dreamed of a knight in white-shining armor without scars and clean, short hair like Larka did? “You ought to get off of that before you fall in!”
“Why?” Larka tried not to sound petulant, especially when the barmaid had been kind to her earlier when Larka had bumped into her while she carried eight mugs of ale to a table of big, big men. “It’s just a well. I can climb out.” Or Kitty would get Gannis to drop in some rope but the foster didn’t say that.
“It was a well, girlie.” The barmaid was carrying too large pails, a foul order coming from them. Larka’s nose wrinkled up so she looked down at the well. “We dump the shit and piss in there. Whatever comes from the bath goes in there, too. Not to mention the bad ale— not that we serve it, just lots of extra left in mugs.” She held up a pail and gave Larka a look. “That well is connected to the sewers now.”
“Sewers?”
“Ya never heard of sewers? Get off or else it’ll splatter on you.” Larka obeyed, shifting to the side and lifting a leg over the wall. When her feet were on the ground the barmaid moved forward and set the pails down. “Think of it like another city under this one. But small and dark and dirty.” She lifted up one pail and dumped the soured ale into it. The barmaid was careful not to get any of it on her and even more careful not to get a whiff of it. Larka saw what looked like a skinny dead rat fall with the honey-colored ale.
“What lives down there?”
“Nothing does. Well. Maybe the rats do. Although there’s been stories about a girl that came from there.” The barmaid set the empty wooden pail down and picked up the other.
“What kind of stories?”
“Just stuff like she can die and be reborn in one night. When Pneria is a full moon like tonight.” Larka looked up at the sky. Yes, Pneria was going to be a full moon. She watched more of the bad ale get poured into the abyss that would be darker than the night sky.
“So there’s people there that reincarnate?” That’s what it sounded like to the Venari. The barmaid shook her head, picking up the other pail. She looked down at Larka, her thin lips in a even thinner line.
“No, it’s like… well, I’ve never seen it, okay? It’s just one girl and she does this weird thing.”
“Oh.” The barmaid turned from her and began walking back to the back door of the inn.
“Come back inside. I’ll give you a honey cake when they’re ready. We’re baking them right now. You likes sweet, don’t you?” Larka nodded her head, she liked everything. But the barmaid didn’t see her nod and just continued back to the inn. Larka brought her gold gaze to Kitty. He whined and nudged his wet nose into her head still holding the tin.
“Okay, okay, I’ll try again.” She leaned back against the well, deciding to take the barmaid’s advice after seeing what was being poured into there. Larka was fiddling with the lid once more, even bringing it up to her mouth to try and use a tooth or the sharp point of her canine. She felt something brush against her dark red hair, like a caress of a breeze but heavier. It almost reminded her of—
Suddenly she was pulled back, tin in her mouth, falling over the wall. The last thing to be seen of her was Kitty barking at her flailing legs, brown boots disappearing of the stone lip. And so Larka fell into the darkness, the light disappearing as the shadows claimed the young venari for themselves.
Itch
“I’m trying to get it out, give me a second.” Larka huffed, fingernails chipping at the dented box to no avail.
“Girl!” Larka turned her head, looking over her shoulder at the barmaid that her mentor had been eyeing before he decided to go to a woman of the night. Larka figured the barmaid, having worked in a inn in Alliria, didn’t enjoy sleeping with drunks. Or maybe she didn’t enjoy sleeping with sloppy drunks that lacked princely charm. Maybe she dreamed of a knight in white-shining armor without scars and clean, short hair like Larka did? “You ought to get off of that before you fall in!”
“Why?” Larka tried not to sound petulant, especially when the barmaid had been kind to her earlier when Larka had bumped into her while she carried eight mugs of ale to a table of big, big men. “It’s just a well. I can climb out.” Or Kitty would get Gannis to drop in some rope but the foster didn’t say that.
“It was a well, girlie.” The barmaid was carrying too large pails, a foul order coming from them. Larka’s nose wrinkled up so she looked down at the well. “We dump the shit and piss in there. Whatever comes from the bath goes in there, too. Not to mention the bad ale— not that we serve it, just lots of extra left in mugs.” She held up a pail and gave Larka a look. “That well is connected to the sewers now.”
“Sewers?”
“Ya never heard of sewers? Get off or else it’ll splatter on you.” Larka obeyed, shifting to the side and lifting a leg over the wall. When her feet were on the ground the barmaid moved forward and set the pails down. “Think of it like another city under this one. But small and dark and dirty.” She lifted up one pail and dumped the soured ale into it. The barmaid was careful not to get any of it on her and even more careful not to get a whiff of it. Larka saw what looked like a skinny dead rat fall with the honey-colored ale.
“What lives down there?”
“Nothing does. Well. Maybe the rats do. Although there’s been stories about a girl that came from there.” The barmaid set the empty wooden pail down and picked up the other.
“What kind of stories?”
“Just stuff like she can die and be reborn in one night. When Pneria is a full moon like tonight.” Larka looked up at the sky. Yes, Pneria was going to be a full moon. She watched more of the bad ale get poured into the abyss that would be darker than the night sky.
“So there’s people there that reincarnate?” That’s what it sounded like to the Venari. The barmaid shook her head, picking up the other pail. She looked down at Larka, her thin lips in a even thinner line.
“No, it’s like… well, I’ve never seen it, okay? It’s just one girl and she does this weird thing.”
“Oh.” The barmaid turned from her and began walking back to the back door of the inn.
“Come back inside. I’ll give you a honey cake when they’re ready. We’re baking them right now. You likes sweet, don’t you?” Larka nodded her head, she liked everything. But the barmaid didn’t see her nod and just continued back to the inn. Larka brought her gold gaze to Kitty. He whined and nudged his wet nose into her head still holding the tin.
“Okay, okay, I’ll try again.” She leaned back against the well, deciding to take the barmaid’s advice after seeing what was being poured into there. Larka was fiddling with the lid once more, even bringing it up to her mouth to try and use a tooth or the sharp point of her canine. She felt something brush against her dark red hair, like a caress of a breeze but heavier. It almost reminded her of—
Suddenly she was pulled back, tin in her mouth, falling over the wall. The last thing to be seen of her was Kitty barking at her flailing legs, brown boots disappearing of the stone lip. And so Larka fell into the darkness, the light disappearing as the shadows claimed the young venari for themselves.
Itch