Chapter Two

‘Tabitha’s Ales’

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            Maroshi continued to struggle. He was only ten feet from the thing’s mouth. And if he thought the outside of the beast was ugly… He wasn’t looking forward to seeing the inside!

            Amidst his struggling, Maroshi heard a sound. A sound he knew well—it was that of ripping flesh. He looked around him. Maroshi’s katana still lay untouched to the left a few yards away.

            So much for River saving him.

            The samurai was only four feet away from being devoured when he heard the ripping sound again. A silver line appeared vertically from the creatures’ low belly, through his face where Maroshi had earlier left his mark, and up into the air. The creature ceased to pull Maroshi closer, and seemed to ponder something considerably.

            Maroshi blinked.

            So fast that not even Maroshi had time to react, a scarlet shower rained up from the beast. The drops came down to the ground, littering the dirt, grass, and creature with red. The tongue went lax, sending Maroshi to the road. With a groan, the creature fell to the east. And to the west.

            Maroshi blinked again.

            It had been cut in two!

            “Like a meatloaf,” he muttered, eyes still wide.

            “I suppose you could say that,” a serious voice said.

            Maroshi looked up.

            A man with red eyes, hair that was black and yet brown at the bottom, and dressed entirely in ebonies and grays stood above him. His scythe dripped blood into a little puddle by Maroshi’s right hand.

            The man nodded to Maroshi’s shirt and sash. “You’re lucky those clothes are made from the wool of Icetai. Other goats don’t produce a cloth with properties of steel.”

            Maroshi stared in disbelief. Not only had this man killed that monster, but now had the level-headedness to talk about his clothes! He can even identify the type!? Who the hell is this guy!?!

            “Maroshi?” River’s voice snapped him out of his confusion. “Here.”

            “Thanks, River…” Maroshi took the offered katana and sheathed it as he stood. “Thank you,” he said to the man. “If you hadn’t come along—“

            “You’d be breakfast,” the man said curtly. His scythe shimmered and disappeared into thin air. Not only was this man a warrior, he also knew magic. “I’m guessing you two stayed overnight here.”

            “Yeah,” Maroshi answered. River stood stiffly beside him.

            The man sighed, seemingly irritated. “You never stay overnight in these woods. Otherwise one of those chimeras will hunt you at dusk and eat you at dawn.”

            Before Maroshi could make an excuse, River butted in. “How the hell were we supposed to know!?”

            “Everyone knows enough to stay out of this forest at night. And you still have blood on your face.”

            “Who cares,” River spat. “And you have no right to take that tone with Maroshi!”

            The man’s lips twitched in amusement. “Are you his bodyguard?”

            “He doesn’t need one!” River stuck out his tongue.

            Maroshi grimaced. “River, that’s really not neces—“

            “We didn’t ask to be saved,” River continued. “Maroshi could have handled it!”

            “Actually, River—“

            The man chuckled. Neither of them seemed to notice Maroshi was there. “If that’s what you think, you’d be a snack as well.”

            “All right, smart guy,” River raged. “What’s your name?”

            “Who wants to know?”

            “I do, so I can remember to kick your—“

            “River!” Maroshi slapped his forehead. It seemed as if he’d been doing that a lot lately.

            “…Xyo.” The man reached out a gloved hand and wiped away the blood on River’s cheek with his thumb.

            Now he’s done it. Maroshi prayed River would keep a cool head.

            River jerked his head away. “What kind of a name is that?”

            Xyo smiled in a very patronizing way. “What kind of a name is ‘River’? As in the Nile?”

            “Styx,” the other snarled.

            Maroshi finally cut in. “River, I think we should get going…”

            The two turned to face him. Both seemed surprised Maroshi was still there.

            “You should listen to your friend.” Xyo straightened his jacket’s collar. “Then again, a fool like himself could get you killed.” With a final shrug, the man turned and walked back into the eastern part of the forest whence he came. The pair watched in silence until Xyo disappeared from view.

            “Jerk,” River muttered.

            The two entered Grapetown without incident after that. Besides River’s grumbling about that ‘gothic jack ass’, Maroshi’s contemplative silence, and a brisker walking pace, nothing really changed.

            Grapetown was a quaint village. Its houses and shops were all of the same design: Gray shale stone for the walls and straw-thatched roofs. The dirt road turned into cobblestone as soon as the forest ended and the mile-long vineyards began. Grapetown was known for its wines, and River made a point of stopping in a tavern as soon as they got into the main village.

            “Tabitha’s Ales…” River read the wooden sign out loud. It was a cozy-looking tavern with an inn right beside it. “Come on, Maroshi!”

            Tabitha’s Ales was well-known to travelers. It had the best wines at the cheapest prices. Tabitha’s had been opened fifty years ago and never once shut its doors. It was open twenty-four hours and didn’t even have locks on the front door.

            The wine cellar doors were another thing.

            River checked out his surroundings. They had gotten a table by a front window and ordered some dinner—he wasn’t really in the mood to cook. From the table he could see the rest of the tavern, which were mostly travelers with young women serving them their food and drinks. Save a redheaded woman (who River presumed to be a drunk) sleeping a table away from them, Tabitha’s Ales seemed to be a respectable establishment.

            Maroshi sighed for the tenth time and River rolled his eyes for the eighth. “What’s wrong, Maroshi?” he asked again.

            This time the samurai finally answered as he poked at his chicken wings. “It’s what that guy said…”

            “You mean Xyo?” River’s brown eyes narrowed and his hand tightened around his fork.

            “Yeah…” Maroshi pushed the half-eaten meal away. “That last thing he said… About me getting you killed…”

            “Now wait a damn minute!” River swallowed the last of his cod. “You know I can take care of myself.”

            “Yeah, but that thing—that chimera…I’m not sure I could have beaten it if he hadn’t come along.” Maroshi glanced guiltily at the floor.

            River was shocked. He had never seen Maroshi so down before. And so unsure of himself! If I ever see that Xyo again, River thought angrily, I’m gonna—

            “Hello!” A female voice interrupted their separate thoughts.

            River looked up first and frowned. It was that redhead. She was probably drunk. Let Maroshi deal with her, River thought bitterly and grabbed the abandoned plate of chicken.

            “Huh?” Maroshi turned his head. The woman took a chair and sat across from the window.

            “I couldn’t help but overhear you two had a run-in with a chimera!” The woman smiled broadly at Maroshi.

            She seemed to be about as tall as Maroshi was, though with a curvaceous build. The woman wore a leather vest that showed off her tanned stomach and a generous amount of cleavage. On any other woman it would have looked smutty, Maroshi decided, but this woman seemed to need to have her skin exposed for the world to see. Flowers and leaves were stitched into the edges of the vest that tied up in the front. She had leather pants that covered only to her knees while her high leather boots covered her calves. The woman had a few necklaces on; one a silver key, another of small jade beads, and still another leather string. For earrings she had matching wolf fangs. The redhead’s arms were bare, save three horizontal scars on her left shoulder. Two large, dark brown gloves covered her hands and two long knives were strapped to either of her thighs. A dark green cape was attached to the vest’s shoulder straps and swished to the floor.

            Her face made her look twenty-something and was just as stunning as her outfit. Her eyes matched her cape and looked as if they would suck you into the depth of her soul. As for her hair… It was a mess of orange that hung to her lower back and was very messy. Had her bangs been any messier, Maroshi wouldn’t have been able to see her eyes.

            “Yes,” Maroshi finally replied, “we did have a run-in.”

            “Aa,” she continued to smile. “Would you to happen to be traveling south?”

            “Yes, we are, miss.”

            “Why do you ask?” River questioned suspiciously.

            “Well,” she turned to the blue-haired teen, “I was about to offer by protective services to you both until you reach your destination. At say… about thirty Rem a day?”

            River nearly fell off his chair. “Are you nuts!? We don’t have that kind of money.”

            “Okay, twenty-eight.”

            Before River could lose his temper, Maroshi relplied; “What my friend means to say, miss… what is your name, may I ask?”

            “Oh.” The woman started and a blank look passed over her face.

            “You do have a name, don’t you?” River eyed her as a waitress came and cleared the table.

            “Of course I do! It’s Tabitha,” she huffed.

            “Well, Miss Tabitha—“ Maroshi was cut off.

            “Funny how that seems to be the name of the tavern we’re in,” River muttered as he got up to pay the bill.

            “Miss Tabitha,” Maroshi continued after River left, “what River means is, we simply don’t have the money your services demand.”

            “Oh,” Tabitha frowned.

            River stood menacing behind her. “And the two of us could beat you any day, so why pay someone weaker to ‘protect’ us?”

            “Weaker!?” Tabitha growled. “Now you listen here—“

            “Come on Maroshi.” River pulled the samurai to his feet, ignoring the ranting woman. “We should go get a room before the rain hits.”

            Maroshi felt his jaw dropping again as he was hauled out the door. How could River manage to piss off so many people off in one day!?

            The two reached the porch of the Blooming Inn when Maroshi heard Tabitha’s yell.

            “You two wait and see! I’ll prove my worth!”

            She slammed the door of the tavern, the other patrons looking graciously away as Tabitha pounded off towards the bar for another ale.

            “Damn kids these days…”

            Maroshi awoke with a start. He jolted upright in bed, sweat dripping down his forehead.

            Where was he?

            The warrior looked around the room; River was sleeping in the other small bed. They were in the Blooming Inn’s cheapest and smallest room, though it was still better than camping—now more than ever as a light rain washed Grapetown’s streets clean.

            Maroshi looked at the large clock above the door; it was barely three in the morning. He had that same dream again, and it set the samurai at unease.

            As quietly as he could, Maroshi got dressed and snatched the room key. He sincerely doubted River would be awake anytime soon as he shut the door behind him. An inn clerk looked up from her book and nodded to Maroshi as he slipped outside. When they first arrived into town, he had seen something that may help calm his nerves now.

            Maroshi ran with inhuman speed towards the building three blocks from the Blooming Inn. His sandals skidded to a stop at the door, sending up waves of water from surrounding puddles. Maroshi checked the sign again; sure enough, it still said ’Sylvia’s 24 Hour Tarot Readings’.

If there was one weakness he had, it was being superstitious. Deep down Maroshi knew it was all rather silly… But in the end, he still avoided black cats and never walked under a ladder.

He opened the door.

            “I’ve been expecting you,” a voice said.

            Maroshi kept his cool and shut the door. The building was more of a hut really, with a set of stairs in the back of the room that must have lead to a bedroom. Rugs covered the floor and tapestries hung where bookcases did not cover the walls. He walked deeper into the incense-clouded room until he came to a step where the floor rose up.

            “I’d like a reading,” Maroshi said to the girl. “How much does it cost?”

            Sylvia looked up from the little table that sat in the center of the floor. She had short purple hair, dark skin like oak, a diamond nose ring, shady brown eyes… Everything you’d expect from a card-reader. Sylvia’s hair was tied back in an orange bandana that matched her puffy pants and spaghetti-strap shirt that exposed her stomach for the customer’s view. Dark blue tattoos wound around her arms and stomach; silver rings graced her toes and fingers as bracelets did her wrists.

            “Free,” she answered.

            “Thank you.” Maroshi bowed.

            “Jus’ be glad you left your money at de inn,” she replied and shuffled the cards.

            Maroshi stopped dead in his tracks. “How did you…?”

             “What kind of a fortune teller would I be if I didn’t know?”

            Maroshi gave a nervous laugh and sat on the pillow opposite of her. He set the St. Clare to his left, making sure it was secure. As she shuffled the cards, he looked around the room. Save a few candles, it was mostly dark, but he could still make out some books, bottles, scrolls, and even a crystal ball laying on a table in what he assumed was her kitchen area.

            “Now den,” Sylvia caught his attention. “What is it you wish to ask de cards?”

            “I had a dream tonight,” he began. “It’s been recurring for a few years now—I’d like to know what it means.”

            Sylvia nodded and began to lay the cards in a cross-like position. Setting the deck to her right, she turned them over one by one, her violet-painted lips moving with each turn. Sylvia closed her eyes in deep thought. She sat there for a good five minutes, barely moving an inch.

            Maroshi’s throat went dry when Sylvia opened her eyes at last.

            “What does it mean?” Maroshi asked anxiously.

            “I have not de slightest clue.”

            Maroshi fell over.

            “Don’t wreck de table,” Sylvia sighed.

            Maroshi straightened himself up. “What… What do you mean you don’t know!?”

            Sylvia shrugged. “De cards. Dey don’t tell me a thing about it. Real odd, dat it is. First time it’s happened.”

            “So…” Maroshi scratched his head. “What does this mean?”

            “Well,” Sylvia ticked off the possibilities on her fingers, “first de cards really don’t like you. Second guess is dat some strong magic is giving you dat dream. Third, I lost my fortune telling abilities.” Maroshi was about to say something when she cut him off. “De last one is very unlikely.”

            “Can we do another reading? To see if the cards ‘like’ me then?” he asked.

            Sylvia shrugged. “Nutin’ better to do.” She shuffled the deck one more time and asked, “What do you wish to ask de cards?”

            “Why don’t you just give me a regular reading?”

            “Fair enough.” Sylvia lay out six cards in three separate piles. She then turned one over after the other, repeating the previous process. Maroshi watched, but with less enthusiasm than the first time.

            “De cards like you. As for dat dream, I wouldn’t dwell on it. Dese things tend to work dem selves out. Your past,” Sylvia droned on, “has been told to me. You got a letter.”

            Maroshi nodded.

            “Dis letter,” the woman continued, “has set you on a journey. Your present has been told to me. You met one who is known as the Drunken Priestess.”

            “Uh…” Maroshi thought about that one. He’d only met two new people that day; Xyo then Tabitha. He really doubted Xyo was the Drunken Priestess. “I think I have.”

            Sylvia nodded. “De woman with red hair in Tabitha’s Ale. I’ve seen her too—dat’s de nickname folks around here gave her. I have also,” Sylvia pressed onwards, “been told your future. You shall meet a different priestess far from today.”

            “What priestess do you speak of?” Maroshi had heard of many priestesses, all of them staying at temples. There were even a few at the Temple of Tiger.

            Sylvia moved in closer to the table, speaking in a much lower voice. “I’m not just talking about any priestess. I’m talking about the priestess. De priestess of all priestesses.”

            “You mean…” Maroshi’s voice was barely above a whisper.

            Sylvia nodded and tapped the three cards. “You’ll be meetin’ the priestess who serves on de Council of Elements. Except,” she paused, looking nervously around, despite being in her own hut.

            “Go on,” Maroshi urged.

            “Except… Rumor has it, dey don’t call her dat no more. Somethin’ happened. Somethin’ big.”

            “What happened?”

            Sylvia shook her head. “No one really knows. De cards won’t even tell me.”

            Maroshi sat in thought for a moment. “But what do they call her now?”

            “The Fallen Priestess.”