Though the encounter had been strange, there were far more pressing concerns in Keldon's mind. Reaching the upper lip of the crater which overlooked the Hissings, he screeched to a halt.
The Hissings was a vast mining site, stretching out over two hundred acres of harsh infertile land that smelled as terrible as it looked, and this lumpy shaped crater that he called work, was just one of many. The rusted odor of iron transport carts intermingled with the stench of sulfur, dampening the sanity of the poor souls who came to make ends meet.
The lower deck was crawling with guards, each wearing bright cloth masks, which shimmered in the sun. Armed to the teeth, they wore suits of armor bearing the colors of the royal family: red, white, and gold. They stood attentively, staring down workers, who shifted in place during their tasks. If you were singled out by the guards, kiss your ass goodbye.
And at the bottom of the strangely shaped crater was a large fissure, roughly the length of a town block and two meters in width, where the sulfuric smell originated. Every few minutes the fissure would ring with a loud pop and a hiss, spewing out a sickly green cloud of smog as workers, who wore heavy brown masks, repelled from ropes carefully, descending into the crevices.
Keldon however, had nothing to do with them. He'd made sure of it.
Instead, he ran towards a small plain white tent on the other side of the crater. He leaped off the ledge, landing on the slanted side of the crater as he slid down the dirt, using his hand to balance himself. But, as he enjoyed the small thrill of sliding down the dirt walls, he kicked up some of the soil, revealing a jagged piece of stone. He desperately tried to move his hand out of the way as he twisted his body, but it was too late; gravity was a hard habit to kick, and had forced Keldon to maintain his balance as his hand slid over the sharp stone. A flash of pain overcame Keldon as he pulled his hand away in reflex.
He lost his point of balance, as he felt the shift in weight pull his body towards the ground into a tumble, where he rolled down the hill, crumpling into a mess.
Covered in dirt, he rolled himself over and groaned.
"Okay, up and attem," he said, pulling himself up.
Feeling a stinging in his hand, he turned it over to reveal a deep gash, oozing with sticky warm blood.
“I’ve really got nothing going for me today,” he said, clutching his palms. He quickly jogged over to the plain white tent just down the road.
Reaching the tent, Keldon saw a cross-looking woman with dark skin and curly brown hair in a clean pair of dark blue overalls. She was organizing crates of Skill Orbs when the two locked eyes.
“You’re late. Again.” She said with a crease in her brow.
"You know that if you had shown up even five minutes later I’d hafta fi-“ she started in a thick accent.
“Gods, you look like a worger chewed you up and spit ya' out,” she said as her expression softened. She looked over his injuries, making note of the deep gash in his hand as she let out a soft sigh.
“Alright come here, you’ve been punished enough. Let’s just get you to work” she said. Keldon walked over to her and extended his hand. She took his hand into her right and with her left hand, she drew a circle in the air as a small light blue orb the size of a fist materialized.
| Activate Skill: Healing touch |
The woman's hand glowed a soft blue as Keldon's hand grew warm. Before Keldon's eyes, he saw the flesh and skin grow and reconnect with each other as the unsightly gash faded, leaving behind only the dried blood with nothing more than a painful memory.
"No matter how many times I see it, it never ceases to amaze." Keldon said with a smile “Thanks. Can I pay you or something?”
"Repay me by getting your ass ta' work now," she said letting go of Keldon's hand and resting her hands on her hips.
"Bertram!! Get out here!! Your butt buddy is waiting for you!" Hilda yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth. Bertram stumbled out of the tent, seemingly having had a few too many sips of wine.
As usual, he carried "Hush" by his side, a long thin cerulean sword that he occasionally used as a walking stick since his back had started giving out.
Keldon was pretty sure Bertram was an old man, roughly around 60 years. But he had never really told Keldon his real age. One time though, Keldon had heard him slip up and talk about the civil unrest of Juniper Meadows, which led Keldon to believe that he was at least 60. However, as far as he was concerned, There was a good chance Bertram could have been purposely misleading him.
Bertram hobbled over, using Hush as a walking stick as he stretched lazily. He gave Keldon a once over, finally noticing that he had been beaten up and bloodied.
”Get yerr ears boxed in by the mayor’s son again?” Bertram asked in a thick accent.
“What? No. C’mon Bertram, you know that it was because Carmen was drunk that night. She pushed herself onto me!” said Keldon, fumbling his words.
“What’d you think she would have thought when you tried ta’ take her home?” said Bertram
“She was drunk!! I was just taking her home because she was stumbling down the streets!! Who knows what sorta danger she’d have gotten into on the way home all by herself.” Keldon said
“Only body who was in danger was you kiddo. Erry’ body who’s been in this town for longer than a piss knows that if you mess with Nelson’s girl, he’ll come at you harder than Raylar on stray boats at sea,” said Bertram
“I’ll say. Wouldn’t even give me a moment to explain. Fists first, More fists later is the creed he swears by, unfortunately.” said Keldon rubbing his neck as he reminisced on the night
“Anyways, look. Right as rain now.” Keldon said, waving his bloodied hand around.
“You’re welcome by the way.” Said Hilda, chiming in with a hint of sarcasm.
“I already said thank you.”
“Oh, I know. Just wanna make sure Bertram knows who’s doing the heavy lifting around here.” said Hilda “Get goin’. I’d offer to let you clean up but the newbies are pissing around enough time as is. Go give em your Lil’ pep talk.”
“Yes ma’am!” Keldon said, saluting Hilda with a wink and a smile. Hilda just stared blankly at Keldon.
“Right. Anyway, let's go Bertram. Bye Hilda!” said Keldon as he spun around, trotting towards a small group of people behind the tent. Bertram turned to trail behind Keldon when he felt a gentle tug at his cloak from behind. He turned his head to see Hilda give him a worried look.
" Keep him safe,” Hilda said, staring Bertram in the eyes. “Hissing activity has slowly gone up in the past couple of weeks. Odds are an Abberant will appear sooner or later.”
“You know him. Soon as he hears there are any increased chances of Abberants, he’ll pull the newbie sifters back, sneak in later, and fill the quota himself. Please, just try to get him to pull out early today without alerting him.” said Hilda
“I know I know,” Bertram said waving away Hilda.
“ Bertra-“
“I know,” Bertram said, solemnly meeting her gaze.
“… Okay.” Hilda said, letting go of Bertram’s arm.
Bertram kept his gaze locked with Hilda’s for a moment, nodding back in affirmation before hobbling away. Hilda watched as Bertram walked away with a casual stride, although this time, walking straighter upright than he had been before, no longer dragging “Hush” by his side. She sighed, looking off at Keldon, who had turned back towards her to smile sheepishly and wave.
She waved back, curving her lips slightly into a smile.
“By the Gods, I hope my intuition is off today.”
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