I’d never tried to use a dragonling as a sword sheath before. In fact I doubt anyone has had the audacity to try such a ridiculous thing. Surprisingly though, the journey had so far been smooth. Kuri was in one of her rare behaving moods, which was a miracle in itself, and despite walking through a crowd of a thousand people, not a hint of suspicion had come our way.

“We’re nearly there now…” I spoke under my breath, soothing my young accomplice. I sped up a little, anxious to get out of public eyes. Every step was a step closer to salvation, every step wa-

“Hey! You there!” shouted a weighty shopkeeper who I could only assume to be one of Rostar’s rivals in this district. “You’ve got a fine looking sword sheath young man, I could spot its high tier craftsmanship from a mile away.”

Turning to face him I smiled shakily at his compliment. He approached with surprising speed for someone of his build.

“Ah…Sorry sir, but this sheath is not for sale."

The man paused in his advance, before casting my refusal aside with a confident grunt.

“Sorcery I tell you!” He said.

“Here’s a lesson for you my son.” He grinned as he stopped before me. “Everything is for sale! You just have to find the right price! Now let me have a glance at that beauty.”

I hastily retreated a few steps, guarding the sheath carefully with my right hand. Thoughts of murder and blackmail glanced my mind, but I knew that it was far too risky. With me being cornered and time running out. I mustered my courage into a last ditch effort and threw out an age old cliché for cover.

“This sheath was given to me by my deceased father.” I lied, working up some fake tears to add to the drama. “I’m very sorry sir, but he had ordered me at his deathbed not to allow others near it.”

The man gulped, rubbing his chest slowly as he consumed my timely lie. Did it work? Was it enough to deter an obviously keen-eyed businessman?

“My god… Oh Peruse forgive me. I apologise sincerely.” Suddenly, genuine tears welled into his eyes. “A young man like you with so much to look forward to doesn’t deserve to go through such hardships.”

I was flabbergasted. The excuse was goddamn super effective! And so a hour passed where the shop keeper and I exchanged experiences real and fake with unrestrained waterworks from our eyes. When the time was up I had even grown an attachment to the sentimental man. Perhaps in my moment of panic I had over-exaggerated the threat he posed towards me. Perhaps all the people in this new decade are nice.

Wait no. There was that one prison guard wasn’t there?

I laughed quietly to myself as I compared the Brikard of now to memories of Zexar. How much did I miss out on during my time out? I was curious to know. But it was a depressing train of thought and perhaps it was better not to dwell upon it. For now it was better to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Who would’ve known a cliché lie like that would’ve worked Ay Kuri?” I whispered and reached for the little beast.

“Kuri?”

-----------------------------------------

What rowdy, uncultured people. Was Lisha's first thoughts as she strolled through the crowded food district of Brikard.

It was suffocating to even stand next to the brutes. So much so that every once in a while she would step away from the centre of the street just to catch some air away from the plebeians. Oh! And of course, admire the wonderful orderliness of the district walls. They were divine! Such cleanliness, such perfect height! It fulfilled every wish and want of her completionist nature. If not for the people, this trip might even have been worth it.

Sighing, she moved skilfully back to the centre of the street, careful not to let a single commoner touch her newly acquired dress. It was made of the finest Puriskan Spider Silk of Lasgard. Which in turn meant it was the finest silk in the world. Obviously. If one of these uncultured brutes “accidentally” tore just a single frill on her dress, not even a life time of servitude could pay off their debt. So she thought of herself as rather kind in avoiding them. She was just trying to look after the poor after all.

Having convinced herself that she was in fact a wonderful person, Lisha suddenly felt a need to be charitable. Perhaps there was a beggar, some slum-dog here that needed a little help? Oh she could do with some life-debts, in fact it must be great to have someone be in debt to her. And for life! Just imagine the fame she would acquire! Oh my! Just the thought made her blush.

“The Heroine, The Lady, The Philanthropist. Lisha Blackhart! ” She whispered excitedly to herself.

There must be someone in need nearby! She may be here on duty, but the investigation could surely wait till tomorrow. Today was the day Lisha became famous, and nobody was going to tell her otherwise. But right as she was about to race in search of victims in need, a delicate tap on her shoulder soothed her raging enthusiasm.

“Excuse me.” said a smug, yet dignified voice behind her.

Lisha turned around with barely concealed annoyance dancing on her face. She just really wanted to save some people right now and distractions were really not appreciated.

“What do you want girl?” She retorted.

The stranger was hooded and indisbutably over-dressed for the warm spring of the Lower North. Not a single glimpse of skin was left uncovered for the public to see, but despite that, Lisha could definitely tell that it was a she. The voice, of course, gave away the first clue, but it was the elegant curves that emanated from her over-sized cape that really told the story.

“What do I want?” The hooded girl returned sarcastically. “I think it’s you who’ll be wanting something back.”

Lisha frowned and tilted her head.

"What is it that you think you have?" She asked.

In the face of her question, the girl stuck out a seamlessly gloved hand and gestured discreetly for her money. Lisha however, had a different idea.

“I’m not sure you understand how business works girl.” She growled, no longer the classy lady of before. “But in the educated crowd, we tend to show our offerings first.”

The girl shrugged and retorted calmly. “Do the educated crowd know that people can snatch things from your hand?”

Lisha was appalled. “Why of-“

“Okay. Fine.” The girl cut her off and pulled out a metallic object from deep within her cape.

“Here it is.” She sighed, dangling it from her hand “Your…thing.”

A gasp of surprise escaped Lisha as she patted herself up and down for her custom-made pistola. How in hell did this girl get her hands on them?

“Where did you find them?” She asked the girl, certain that there was no way she had just ‘lost them’.

“I ‘found’ them on a little thief walking by.“

“How-…No never mind.” Lisha sighed. “Excuse my manners before… What is your name, young lady?”

“My name is none of your business.” The girl snorted. “and I’d be glad if you could stop wasting my time.”

Ignoring her harsh words, Lisha pushed forwards, determined to remain civil. It had been ingrained within her at the military to stay calm no matter what and though she had already snapped once, she was not going to let this girl get the better of her again.

“My name is Lisha. Lisha Blackhart.” She smiled gently, “May I have the honour of knowing your name?”

Lisha could almost feel the girl rolling her eyes at the question, but she would not give up. Taking control of the conversation is the number one rule in interrogation. And though this wasn’t strictly an interrogation, Lisha banked on the fact that conversations also involved speaking and thus are basically the same thing.

“No you may not have the honour.”

“Please? All I want is your name!”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Just because.”

“Pretty please?”

“No!”

"PLEASE!"

"NO!"

Lisha crumbled. It was not like her training at all. How could she “save” people if she couldn’t even convince a little girl to tell her name? Kneeling on the verge of tears, she looked up at the monstrous teenager with pleading eyes.

“I’m begging you… Just tell me your name.”

"You don't understand..." The girl muttered, gnawing over a thought. "Look if I tell you my name will you go away?"

"Yes." Lisha sobbed, "I'll do anything."

The girl kneeled reluctantly to Lisha's height, revealing a lock of silvery white hair as the hood fluttered with her movement. Without warning, She placed one hand on her chest and the other over Lisha’s forehead, leaving it there until some magical act had finished. The moment of intimacy did not last long, but despite its strangeness, Lisha couldn’t help but feel much closer to the unique girl. It was as though they had suddenly become friends of many years, without ever having met before.

“What did you do?” Lisha asked, rubbing her forehead slowly. Lasgard was a country at the forefront of technology, but never once had she heard of something like this.

“I did nothing but introduce myself.” The girl stood up and smiled weakly. “In the way of the old.”

Lisha frowned. “But I don-“

She paused. From underneath the raging thoughts of her mind, suddenly a name began to appear. Kha…Khastri? No. Of course not.

It must be Kha- something…

“Khalia?” She whispered.

The girl sighed.

“Nice to meet you too Lisha.”

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Hey Beeps here! Mama used to tell me that life was a box of chocolates, you never knew what you were gonna get. Thanks for reading this chapter! Hope you enjoyed. If you want more inspirational quotes, head to my site: https://aspiringnewbie.wordpress.com/ I promise you'll have a great time

Ps. Don't run into traffic when playing pokemon go! Don't want any of my readers dying now. hehehe.

Beeps out!