Torchmire was a town that was similar to a two-sided coin. Each side is different, yet you never know which side you’ll get after a flip. Just like Worcester, the streets might be empty during the day, and the night as crowded as a swarm of bees in a pot of honey. In a town such as this, containing the amount of people it did, anything was possible.

It was a simple fifty-fifty chance. Of course, festivals and planned gatherings played their role in certain scenarios, similar to some sleight-of-hand tricks from a magician to make the coin always land on the same side. However, that type of luxury was rare, and that coin had landed normally; tonight was a less-crowded night.

Faibel and Rina were the only ones that remained in their small room inside the inn. Everyone else had gone drinking like a pack of hungry wolves in the wild. Faibel was left to his books, and Rina was kept with her thoughts.

The chairs in the rooms were either packed with bags or carried piles of Oscar’s dirty travel clothes. Rina needed somewhere to sit, so she took her chances with the bags, not wanting to get any unnecessary diseases by accidentally stumbling across Oscar’s wardrobe on the open seats.

“Are you reading anything interesting?” She asked Faibel, bored and in desperate need of something to do.

Faibel licked his finger and flipped the page he was currently reading. He strongly considered ignoring her, but he reached the end of his current chapter. “Tombs and Trinkets, written by Theodore Selvis,” Faibel answered. “Does it really matter to you?”

“No,” She sighed, knowing damn well she didn’t care. “I just need to fill my mind with something. I keep having these crazy thoughts, and my brain won’t stop running from them.”

Faibel adjusted his glasses, “You’ve been acting strange lately… Ever since we came back, you’ve been acting different. Like you’re trying to reach for something that’s far too dangerous for you—yet you still try—you try and try, but never reach far enough. It hurts you more and more the longer you reach, yet you keep fighting the pain and following it. I can’t exactly say how close you are, but I also don’t know why you’re reaching for it in the first place.”

Rina took his words carefully, like a string through a needle. She didn’t know whether Faibel was right or not, but he usually always was. If there was one thing she didn’t doubt, it would have to be his knowledge. “And what exactly am I reaching for?” She asked preemptively, her cheeks resting in her palms.

Faibel folded the top-right corner of his page, then snapped the book shut as if he’d just finished a five-hour lecture. “I don’t believe I’m right to answer that question for you. I am simply giving my observation based on your actions. It is quite possible I am incorrect. Although that possibility is very unlikely.” He paused, placing the book on the shelf beside him. “Take that Cairo fella for example. I’ve known him for what, a day or two perhaps? One look into his eyes tells me everything I need to know. Hence why I don’t talk to him, nor should you.”

Rina’s eyebrows shot up like two rainbows after a storm, “What do you mean? What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Think about it. If you’re reaching for something, he’s the one pulling away from something. What he’s trying so hard to pull away from, I cannot say… Think of an elastic band,” Faibel made a gesture with both his index fingers as if he had an elastic band on either side of them. “You’re reaching and pushing against the resistance as hard as you can. And when you finally reach that breaking point, the band will snap back, putting you in even more pain than once you started.” Faibel switched his attention to the other finger, “Now for Cairo. He’s a man that’s trying to escape from the band. No matter how hard he tries to run away from it, at one point, the other side—the part he’s running from—will eventually come back and hurt him.”

Rina looked confused for a second. She seemed to be having some trouble understanding, which Faibel caught onto. “Would you like me to explain it as if you were only five-years-old?”

“Shut up,” She snapped at him. Everything he said made sense, she just didn’t know how to apply it into the real world. Faibel’s metaphors never made sense to her. What was Cairo pulling away from? She couldn’t figure it out no matter how hard she tried. She didn’t even know where he was at this point, so thinking about him rather than herself was irrational and wouldn’t prove to solve anything anyway.

“So, according to you,” Rina started. “I’m reaching, and he’s pulling?”

Faibel sighed, “Yes.”

“Then what happens if we both go in opposite directions on the band—to the point where the middle snaps and we’re set free?”

Faibel was about to make another remark when he noticed his mouth wouldn’t move. It’s as if his mind had an easy answer, but his tongue wouldn’t allow it. “Whatever do you mean? Are you implying you’re both in the same rubber band?”

Rina nodded.

Faibel tapped his finger against his lips—it was one of the many ways he told the room he was in deep thought, not to be disturbed by any means necessary. “Both in the same band… Well, what is it you’re reaching for?”

“You’re the one who said I was reaching for something in the first place,” Rina frowned. “I don’t know what I’m reaching for! If I even am in the first place!”

“Come,” Faibel got up from his chair, “Let’s walk.”

…

The two of them stepped outside to catch a glimpse of the crowded nighttime streets. People dressed in all sorts of clothes rushed past them as if they weren’t even there. No one really knew why some nights got so crowded as compared to others. No one really dared to question it either.

“While we look for Kalvin and the others, tell me about the first day Cairo stepped into the tavern.” Faibel stepped down from the steps to the inn, and began to slowly walk with the flow of the crowd, hands behind his back like a gentleman. “Dismiss the thoughts of me doing the same right after. That bears no concern to you.”

Rina jumped to his side, “The first time he walked in? I don’t remember, he was just some random guy in a hood. He had his reasons.”

“How about the second day?”

“Still ignored him. I took his order and that was it…”

“The tenth day?”

Rina stopped, her voice becoming slightly irritated, “Are you just going to ask how every single day went?

“Not exactly, I just want to hear your actions. Worcester is a small town, with a small population. Not many hide under a hood.”

“What’s your point out of all of this?”

Faibel stopped alongside a bar, music and laughs filling his ears through the open windows. “From the very first day he walked in, you could feel he was different. Didn’t you?”

Rina flushed, staying silent.

“The very first day he stumbled into the tavern was the very first day you began to reach, and the exact same day he began to pull away. Neither of you knew each other, and neither of you cared to ask. Yet you both had a feeling, call it human nature if you must. However, that rubber band is coming very close to its breaking point. The second you two lose your strength to reach further… You’ll be exactly where you started, more pain than before.” Faibel readjusted his glasses again, opened the swinging doors to a streetside bar, and walked in.

Rina didn’t want to believe what he said was true, but arguing with Faibel never solved any problems in the past. Her only hope revolved around her own actions, and how she planned on using them to the others around her.

After questioning herself whether to follow Faibel into the bar or not, she decided it was best to leave him be. Most of her days were spent inside an old drunken bar anyway, so perhaps tonight should be taken to relax and unwind from all the mess.

Strolling past the streetlights and the people around them, Rina couldn’t settle her mind into a calmer state. She was so focused on what Faibel told her that she didn’t even notice the numerous amounts of drunken sailors cat-calling to her. She ignored them of course, and luckily, they were too drunk to follow.

She planned on heading back to the inn, but something miraculously caught the corner of her eye in a nearby alley. The alley was squeezed between two identical houses side by side, shadowed by darkness and piles of greasy trash. An alley like this was quite common during these times. In fact, it was strange to see an alley not in this state of a mess.

However, just at the right moment, and just under the right glimmer of light, a tiny blue glare presented itself in a distant corner, behind the numerous piles of garbage littered round. It was like a tiny diamond in an abandoned cave.

Rina stopped her steps short in front of the alley, her breaths as shallow as the light within it. She took a step closer, stepping into what seemed like an already-eaten chicken. “Ugghhh.” She gulped away any bad taste that might’ve remained in her mouth, then continued, her steps slow.

The closer she approached the tiny blue glare, the more it became visible and clear of what it truly was. It was—a frog?

Not an ordinary frog like one might see at a swamp or a lake. No, it was a black frog, and it wasn’t alive either. It was some sort of clay figurine, colored black like thick tar in a blacksmith’s shop. The frog was about the size of an axe head, and it smelled like it just had paint rolled over it a dozen times.

The blue glare came precisely from the depths of the frog’s mouth, almost like an ancient pearl in the grasp of a large clam.

Rina squatted down to get a better look at it, checking behind her to make sure she wasn’t followed. “What the—” She whispered beneath her breath, picking it up and getting a much closer look at it.

The frog seemed to have some sort of writing on it she couldn’t recognize the language of. It was written all over, like a book without a cover.

Maybe Faibel knows what this is, she thought to herself. He’ll prolly know things like this. Mayve he’s read about something like this before in one of his many boring and long books. This seemed like just the thing to find on a random page of Tombs and Trinkets, yet she didn’t want to be known as a thief by her comrades, so she set it back down, giving it one last look.

Rina was about to turn around and head back, when a sudden noise sparked through the alley. A noise similar to glass shattering against a hardwood floor.

Her head instantly jerked back, focusing on nothing but careless faces on the street and darkness engulfing her in every corner. “Is someone there?!” She whispered. Another noise shattered in the distance, “WHO’S THERE!” Her final scream nearly broke the windows above her, until a final noise of glass shattering ended it all—one that landed directly onto her head, knocking her out inside the alley, ice cold.

Her body fell without a moment’s notice. There was so much noise in the street that no one even heard the glass, or the scream. A large man wearing a black mask jumped down from wherever he was hiding. He grabbed Rina, slouched her over his shoulder, and left, leaving no traces behind.

…

Back at the inn, Leonidas took out his blue sphere, as someone was trying to catch his attention through it. He quickly made sure no one was around, then pulled it out carefully.

“Leonidas, my lord,” A deep voice began from the sphere.

“Yes, Hendrix, is that your marvelous voice I love to hear?”

“Yes my lord,” the voice replied with no emotion. “I have the girl, she’s unconscious. What shall I do with her?”

Leonidas thought for a moment, then smiled. “When she wakes, kill her. I want her to suffer, just like every one of those rats that escaped. When she wakes, keep the room dry, dryer than a dessert. If that girl gets a hold of a single drop of water she’ll escape.”

“My lord,” The voice seemed confused. “I can kill the girl now if you'd like. It’ll be quick and painless.”

“No!” Leonidas barked back at him, his voice being so loud he had to double-check the windows to make sure no one heard. “A death during slumber is not a death. It’s a coward’s way of solving problems. As the future king of Harvoria, I command you to kill her slowly.”

“As you wish, my lord.” The voice cut-out, and the navy blue glow from the orb returned to its normal state.

...

By the time the sun rose, Leonidas and Faibel were the only ones that seemed even remotely awake. Last night’s endless drinking left Kalvin, Paris, and Oscar all clumped together on the floor like a pile of corpses.

Kalvin was drooling, burping up his last-night’s sips of whiskey and gin. Oscar crashed atop of Paris, which was a usual sight for them from prior experiences. Paris abruptly woke from whatever type of vodka-induced coma she was in, and slipped out beneath Oscar’s giant body like a snake in the grass.

“Yaaahhh! Paris yawned dramatically, tying her hair in a ponytail and leaving her bangs untouched. “What day is it?”

Faibel sighed, licked his finger, and folded the top right corner of a page inside of Tombs and Trinkets. “The day you stop drinking and actually focus for once.”

Paris rolled her eyes, “Whatever, I’m in need of some coffee.”

“When are you not?”

“When are you not reading your dumb books,” Paris’s comebacks were surprisingly fairly good considering her lack of awareness. “Where’s what’s-her-face?”

Faibel closed his book again, “I talked to her last night. There might be a slight possibility I ticked her off.”

Paris giggled with a low, morning-like face. “Shows her right, always babbling on and on…”

“If I may interrupt,” Leonidas raised his hand, awkwardly. “Last night around midnight I would say, Rina said she was going to go after the jewel herself.” Leonidas’s face dimmed manipulatively, making his story more believable. “I didn’t believe her either, but she left early this morning. She headed to the stables, there was nothing I could really do to stop her.”

“That Bitch!” Paris screamed, “Always thinking of herself and always wanting to be first!” Paris rushed to the tiny kitchen they had and filled the largest bottle on the counter with ice-cold water from a large wooden bucket. She shook the bottle gently, then poured it all over Kalvin and Oscar as if they were pigs laying in the dirt. “Get Up!” She yelled again, “We’re leaving!”

“Brbragd,” Kalvin choked and struggled to breathe as the ice-cold water flushed down his throat. His consciousness collided with his slumber, and his mind struggled to adjust from such a fast transition of alertness. Using his hands, he wiped his shirt against his eyes, drying them, “The hells’ the matter with ya woman!” He gargled, water trickling down his spine.

Paris grabbed her blade and another bag she traveled with, “We’re leaving. Rina already left and I’ll die before she gets to make a wish before I do!”

“She left?” Kalvin’s anger twisted into a dumbfounded confusion, “She really left already?”

Faibel squinted his eyes, as to carefully observe Leonidas’s body language and tone of voice. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and nothing showed any red flags off the bat. It was hard for Faibel to believe she had left, and perhaps he wouldn’t believe it if he didn’t talk to her, but Leonidas’s innocence seemed far too perfect to question.

“She left this morning you say?” Faibel nudged his glasses further up his nose as if he was looking for a tiny spec in the sand. Rina’s bags were missing, and the door was unlocked, so everything added up smoothly. There were only so many clues he could go off of, but the ones he had, showed no signs of Leonidas lying.

“I was startled too,” Leonidas gawked back at Faibel, “She woke me just as the sun rose on the horizon. I even asked her to leave a note but she stormed off-”

“Yup,” Paris cut him off, “Sounds exactly like somethin’ she’d do.” Her grip tightened around the blade so much it looked as if she was about to snap it. “Oh just you wait, she’s going to get it now.” Paris’s face had a mix of vengeance and anger all contorted into a devious grin. It was quite frightening.

“Settle down,” Kalvin trimmed down his face into a more nimble one, “She couldn’t have gotten far. We’ll pack up our things and go to the stables.”

Paris stormed out of the inn, “Hurry your assess! I’ll be waiting!”

And so with that, they left, guilt and anger guiding their steps forward.

…

After what seemed like hours, the group finally arrived at the town’s stables on the westside of Trochmire. Oscar was practically asleep on Kalvin’s shoulder, and Paris put more energy into her furious march than ever before. All she cared for was the jewel, as nothing else mattered to her at this very moment.

The Torchmire stables were secluded as compared to the rest of the town. They stretched horizontally along a small farm field behind a wooded mile-long path. There were approximately two men guarding the stables, and one tending to the horses in need. The stables reeked of horse manure and sweat from nearly a mile out. The men tending to the horses didn’t smell too good either, stains of all sorts of colors smeared across their overalls.

Paris was the first to approach them, stopping short as Kalvin pushed her aside as he saw her instantly reach for her blade. “Greetings gentlemen, we’re looking for about four horses, one’s that’ll get us far in a short time. Preferably ones that can withstand some luggage as well.”

One of the men stepped forward, curling his thumbs against his farmer’s trousers. “Yer be lookin’ for dem horses ye? Horses, we gottem good, fresh one’s too. Strong ye, sturdy ye, fast.” His words seemed more mumbled and confusing than a doctor’s note. It was a normal accent to hear in Torchmire, but hard to follow.

Leonidas stepped forward, clearing his throat to make sure it matched the man’s, “Eighte’ miles south o’ here ye? Bring us yer best n’ mighty horses ye.”

The man’s plump face gained a friendly smile, “I like yer voice boy. Tell ya wat, 16 gold ingots n’ ya get the best horsies I got, ye?”

Leonidas smiled, “14 and yer got yerself a deal.”

The man chuckled, then made a gesture to the man behind him to bring a horse out. The man pulled out a beautiful black horse, hairs as dark as the night; Hooves as strong as a hammer; young and brave, ready to speed off at any second.

The first man patted the horse on the head, “Pure black one’s don’ com’ ‘round here often I tell ya. We got youn’ one’s too.”

Leonidas took a moment to observe the horse in his head. The horse was indeed young, but as always, farmer’s were the biggest con-artists known to man. They always held dirty tricks up their sleeves, even dirtier than their mud-covered clothes. They were merchants in disguise—they wouldn’t tell lies, nor would they tell you the whole truth either.

Leonidas reached into a small purse in his back pocket and pulled out the money he was ready to give. “Twelve golden ingots, all yours for four horses like this one.” His voice returned to a mysterious, not-so-innocent one. He then walked over to the horse and bent down, observing carefully, already knowing the full truth. Right above the hoof, there were tiny specs of brown hairs, different from the rest of the black ones. That fine black naturality the farmer praised so much was nothing more but black paint and washed-over leather.

“Twelve golden ingots,” Leonidas claimed again, “Or none, whichever you prefer.”

The farmer’s brows squinted and he gulped a bit of nerves and fear down his throat. Keeping his grim smug on Leonidas, he motioned for the farmer behind him to bring out the rest of the horses, which turned out to be the same.

Leonidas handed the farmer his money and began loading the bags onto the horses’ back. “Thank you gentlemen. Pleasure doing business with you.”

Faibel had read dozens of books about horses and donkeys in his free time, but he’s never once encountered such an act like this. “How did you see such a minute detail?” He asked Leonidas.

“Oh, I used to own a farm back in the day,” He lied. “It’s an old farmer’s trick. The only way I knew was how low a price he agreed too. A horse with pure black hairs—a young one too—is worth about 30 gold ingots. And the accent was easy to pick up on, just had to roll my tongue to the back of my throat and talk like an illiterate soldier.”

Kalvin laughed, slapping Leonidas on the back. “Man, I like you! You sure know how to travel wholeheartedly, I’m quite surprised you hadn’t just gone yourself!”

Leonidas chuckled, innocent as ever, “Oh I’d be a goner during the night. One thief and I’d be on the ground begging for mercy.”

Faibel watched as Kalvin laughed as Leonidas tried to get free from his grasp. Something didn’t seem right, but books alone weren’t going to help him solve anything. He needed to use his brain—and of course—his spectacles.

“Say, how long do you reckin Nirvana is from here?” Kalvin asked, jumping atop one of the horses. The horse jumped at the sudden stranger, then settled after a few pats and slow words.

“A few hours at minimum,” Leonidas plopped the last bag on a free horse where Oscar and Paris sat, then jumped on his own. “There might be a town up ahead if we need to resupply, shouldn’t be necessary though.”

“Let’s go already!” Paris yelled from the deepest chambers of her lungs, making Oscar gently whiplash the horse into action. “She’s not getting the jewel before me!”

Oscar sighed, “Settle down will ya? All this yelling is bustin’ my drums.” He tapped the horse again, striding along the path behind Leonidas.

...

It was roughly nine in the morning by the time Rina woke. For all she knew, it could have been days since she’s last been awake. There weren’t any windows around her, nor did she remember anything from the previous night, so, she had no way of knowing anything about her whereabouts, or the time of day.

The first thing she noticed was the throbbing pain in the back of her skull. Next came a blurred vision of her surroundings, which didn’t look too promising. Finally, and perhaps the most important thing she noticed was the realization of what happened.

“Owww,” She moaned as the pain in her head increased. She slowly tried to reach behind her to see if there was any bleeding. However, that motion was stopped by the ropes tied around her hands. The ropes were sandy and dry; any sorts of friction-like movements would tear her skin with slow rhythms, painfully.

An aching pressure stood upon her chest, but she couldn’t tell if it was her heart beating faster, or the fear that’s taking its slow approach inside her. Both results weren’t ideal, and both results wouldn’t help her in any way.

As the blurriness in her vision subsided, her surroundings became much more clear. She was in a large room, one that stretched further than she could put her eyes to. The walls were dirty, had paint peeling off, and contained random holes scattered about like portraits in a church. The room seemed like something straight out of a little child’s nightmare, giving unwelcomed goosebumps crawling about her skin. There was also a strong pungent smell she couldn’t recognize, lingering throughout the room in an uncomfortable manner.

Rina could hear a voice in the darkness ahead of her. She couldn’t quite make out what the voice was saying, but she knew it couldn’t have been good. Nothing seemed good at the moment. Her throat was dry, her chest was pounding, and her mind was racing.

She tried to use her Gift to escape, but due to the dryness of the room, she couldn’t muster more than a drop of sweat across her palms. “Ugggh!” She grunted as the ropes dug through her soft skin with every aching movement.

“What are you squealing for!” A voice entered through the darkness. The voice was low, and as the man stepped forth to reveal himself, his voice was clearly muffled by the mask he was wearing. This man didn’t seem like the type who cared about his voice, rather more about his appearance than anything.

The mask he wore was only one color, and looped around his entire head. He wore black robes to accompany his mask, making him look like a silent shadow under an evening lantern.

The masked man placed a candle on the floor, giving off just barely enough light to see his surroundings. “Don’t worry. I’ll make this quick, but it won’t be painless.”

Rina spit in his face, “Nothing you do—”

The man slapped her with his black leather glove. The disturbing noise of leather against skin echoed throughout the room like a quiet scream inside a cave. It was painful, unpleasant to the ears. Anyone that heard such a noise would turn away, cover their ears, and forget they ever heard a single noise.

Rina’s cheek boiled a bright red tint in the shape of a hand. She felt the pain, and with her already wounded head, it just added to her already parched dizziness, making her even more numb and disoriented. She tried to scramble a few words through her lips, but the masked man slapped her again, harder this time.

Rina’s consciousness was now on the verge of completely fading for good. If she passed out, her brain could be in a world of trouble. Her head wobbled back and forth, and the man began to unbutton his robes. “My great lord told me I could take my time. So you wouldn’t mind if we have some fun first?”

Muffled moans escaped through Rina’s throat as she tried her hardest to stay awake. Her body was in a battle with her head, and it seemed like there would be a winner in a moment's time. She wanted to gain control of her movements, break free from these lucid ropes. She wanted to keep on reaching… But her mind wouldn’t allow it. All she could do was watch, her vision blurry, and her heart pounding through the roof of her chest.

The man glanced up and down Rina’s barely conscious self, “Looks like I’ve hit the jackpot!” He smirked beneath his mask, “With a body like that… I’m going to have some real fun.”