Chapter 1 DESERT TOWN, THE RUIN - PART 2

A step over the threshold and inside the Inn the first to greet my sight was the girl standing behind the counter: immediately everything comes to a standstill. I can feel the intense glares of the angry and concerned customers and that of the sad looking little girl’s.

“What’s with the kid?”

“Is he one of them?”

“Even more mess.”

“One more problem having a go at it.”

“Is the half-pint also here for the same thing?”

I hear their whispers. What are they talking about?

The room is large. It had boards for floor, round and square tables that could house a maximum of four customers and barrels that sat to the walls. Beside the counter there was a small dual door suspended to the sides of the doorframe. Magic stone lanterns hung on the walls and one on the first of the three pillars that held the room up. The ineluctable stench of booze is enough to intoxicate anyone that walked in.

A young half elf-orcette, a tiger eared and tail demihuman girl, a fox, and a cat demihumans and two human waitresses are taking orders and serving food and ale to customers. They are all beautiful! Even the customers who were taking advantage to admire their perfect slender bodies under their aprons, hitting on them turn focus to me.

The customers are mostly Monstrose and a few human looking people. A majority of them look like thugs and a few of them in light gear. Hunters, maybe?

I take my eyes off them before stopping in front the counter.

The chatter resumes.

The place is alive again! The waitresses hop from one table to another with either smiles or cold expressions depending on the attitude of the people at the table.

“How can I help you?”

The beautiful serpent girl—head to waist human and her lower body that of a snake, a Lamia? It’s easy to brush the lamia race as Monstrose but considering how her lower body is that of a serpent, which is an animal she falls under the theriantrope, subcategory a reptilian. Or even pass of as a demihuman—behind the counter asked. Her snakelike eyes slightly jumped when they finally locked on me.

Her heartbeat is off and the smell of anxiety is all over her. I wonder what must be going through her head.

Her white hair is roughly tied to a bun, but clusters of strands hang loosely to her cheeks. She had eyes which complimented her hair; all so… alluring. That’s just how her kind are; mysterious as they are beautiful.

But, what is a Lamia doing here?

Wandering for so long I did pick up a thing or two about some of the races around. I didn’t think I’d see one here of all places, they were rarely seen. People even thought they were extinct, but a handful existed. For the record, this counts second time that I’ve seen one so far.

“Room, food”

“Ten gold coins total a night”

She composes herself cracking a gentle smile.

Ever since the event rare earth metals had become infinite: gold, silver, iron, you name it. But the preferred currency was silver and gold.

The currency ratio of silver to gold is a hundred. A hundred silver coins would amount a gold coin. So ten gold coins would be that of a thousand silver coins. Good thing it isn’t complicated.

Overly expensive… but who am I to judge? There isn’t any other near place to go so it’s obvious it would be overpriced. I could try to stay in the abandoned rooms above but why not spend a little of what I have. Besides I don’t want trouble from anyone. Other than that I have no real use of the money on me anyway.

I reach into my Jacket and pull out two pouches of gold coins, one big and the other little.

Standing before the counter I could feel the gaze of the man near the end of the counter.

— Cha—the coins quietly sound off when they hit the table…

“Hey, hunter kid. Never seen you around before. You here by yourself?”

As I said, to everyone I’m just a sixteen year old, looked down on by most people even though they think I am a hunter.

Look to the average muscular man, frizzy red hair, a couple of inches taller than me and in light protective gear and a Falchion strapped to his back sitting on a stool to the end of the counter—probably in his 30’s. Rating how he looked, I’d give him a five (that is, out of a ten) for average looks since he had no real defining features alluring to many. He squints and cracks a jovial grin.

“What brings you to this backwater town?”

What does he want from me? I can tell he’s not a local here, he’s oozing with confidence. By the looks of it—He’s a hunter! So there’s no need to for any idle chat.

“… Mhm?”

Someone bumped into my leg.

I look down and before me stands the little girl still clenching her fingers together looking at me with those big eyes.

Did she bump into me intentionally to make her presence known?

Quit bothering me!

“Just ignore her. That’s how she is to all outsiders… So how long will you be with us?”

The serpent girl had already grabbed the key hanging on the rack to the wall behind her and placed it on the counter sliding it over to me. She looks at me awaiting my answer…

I have no answer for her: Once I get into a town which harboured demons which could be of help to my goal I always did my best to get what I needed no matter how long it took.

In the corner of my eye I see a couple of waitresses holding empty trays go through the door beside the counter and another girl comes out with a full tray.

My eyes tear away from her to the little girl still in pose.

“Get the hell out, brat!!”

A deep voice cried as a heavy mug is flung into the air, hits the little girl to the side of her head…

“Aah!!” she let out a faint cry.

… and took her off her feet. Even the girl behind the counter is startled a bit.

Before I realized my hand was reaching out to her, stopping midway through—what am I doing?

“What the hell? Which one of you pissants did that? Face me!!” The stool falls when the man at the counter stood slamming his hands on the countertop.

My head follows in suite to the sitting customers behind me—nobody bothers to humor him.

Some are silent, drinking on their wooden mugs, their intimidating looks trying to be all innocent and others chuckling at the little girl. The rest didn’t seem to care as the resume their chatter.

I looked back at her.

Why should I care, though?

… I don’t know who she is, plus I had nothing to do with her. Reacting would cause a problem. I’d like to avoid that… Looking at her, somehow she reminds me of someone. I just can’t make out whom. Her face is somewhat nostalgic, in the very least.

… For some reason her hurting bothers me.

Why do I feel this way?

The need to maim whoever did this.

To help her.

It’s like my reasoning is disappearing…

Why’d they have to do that?

Instinctively, with my keen sense of smell I take a quick whiff of the air to try and catch the scent on the mug. Spit… booze… perfume… body odors… and food. It’s hard, trying to single that out one scent from the stench of booze and the people disseminated through the atmosphere in the room but… Got it! It should be hard not being close and with the stench bombarding me from every corner but it was relatively easy. I don’t have a full understanding of my body so I don’t really get it. Whoever they were must have some strong scent.

A new, sweet scent is coming from below me, trying to over powering the others in the room. One that I am overly familiar. A very distinct scent that I could pick up on even if just a faint—

… She’s a strong one. She’s managed to sit up on her own.

Grabbing the small sack of coins on the table I quarter turn to the girl and drop the sack before her.

“…?”

She looks up into my eyes.

A waterfall of blood from the impact point coated the skin around her eye down to her cheek dropping from under the chin.

“… blood”

“… blood”

The word, in a whisper escapes along with the distorted voice in my head seeing the blood. It’s making me want to lose it.

Come on, restrain yourself.

It’s better to leave. The souls in here are getting restless with my presence. I don’t want to rile anyone up or end up having to do something ‘regretful’ even though it doesn’t apply to my reasoning.

I face the serpent girl.

“Where?”

“… The eighteenth floor. Room 128”

Slip. The key follows my left hand off the table.

A step over the little girl I head to the staircase that was hidden beside the wall that the counter leaned.

“Nice talk kid. Chat you later.” said the man at the counter grabbing the fallen stool to sit. I can feel his stare like a sharp glare behind me.

The sounds of light footsteps exiting the inn as I ascend the stairs tell me the little girl left before she got into any more trouble.

Okay? Why did I do that…? I question myself.

I don’t believe I’ve ever done something like that… As I make it up the stairs I couldn’t help but wonder what drove me to want to help the little girl. It’s like I couldn’t stop myself from not doing anything.

As far as I can remember being in this world I haven’t helped anyone, be it a kid or adult in any way. Maybe just that one time. I helped that little girl a decade ago from being killed, rather sexually abused, which is something I’ve seen more times than I can remember, stumbling on them by accident. I never helped any but that one. If I remember correctly I only did because she reached out to me, in a faint, terrified voice, crying for help… Wait, no! I don’t believe that was the reason I did that. Others have reached out to me but I left them to their fate, I felt no empathy and I feel no sympathy for them. I think it was because those persecuting her were low demons on a rampage. If it were any different I would have left her to die as well. But to give anything out or try to help for no reason… feels rather odd.

Why is this girl any different from the others I left to die?

I know it’s something too little to consider a change in my overall personality but still…

I’m sure it’s something I would have never done or ever do again.

Although, there is something about her I can’t seem to brush off, yet I have no idea what that thing is.

Floor after floor my feet took climb.

The building I’m climbing is twenty floors high. It had a segment broken off from the top to about the eighth floor, so I can see out across the street to the other buildings.

Room 128.

My room is on the Eighteenth floor.

It’s an empty corridor with only five rooms in good condition, spread out. The floors had tiles but from the looks of the potholes and cracks, it has been unchanged through the centuries. Looking at the building as a whole it might have been some sort of hotel and such back in the past. There are no more rooms intact but the five. The others had walls missing, cave-ins and missing floors.

Huh… Eyes?!

Something’s staring at me!

Walking towards my door I felt a focused gaze.

I feel I’m being watched. That overwhelming feeling of someone glaring at me…

The room number was read on the small wooden plaque nailed to the door.

In front of my door I take the key up towards the slot.

That feeling, it’s close now. My head spins to the side and my eyes scan the place to find my stalker—.

—Nothing.

Dud. That sounded like a door, closed. It was soft but I know it is.

Sniff… a scent. It’s human.

Ever since I awoke, my senses were heightened; sight, smell and hearing but the taste for normal food and the feel were exempted. The three served greater purpose to tell what or who a person truly was.

Let me elaborate on that a little. Sight: it’s true my vision surpasses normality. To see in the distance but when standing before a person I can spot every single micro-action on that person’s body when they are hiding something.

Smell: My nose is over sensitive, easy to pick up the faintest of scent. When a person has a specific emotion they tend to secrete a smell, a pheromone if you must, and I am able to pick it up. Anxiety, anger, fear, hate, and others all have their distinctive scent and I am able to pick up on that up. Though I am uncertain of the emotions one possesses, the difference in the scent and their expression and heart beat is a clue.

As for hearing I don’t believe I need say anything about that since I touched on it earlier. Aside from this, all joined I am peeked for tracking anything that has scent, physical form or heart; alive and or dead. Also I make one hell of a lie detector.

I open the door and I am greeted by a nearly empty apartment room.

My room is only a small cubical.

There is a bed, even from the looks of it, it’s hard. On the opposite side of the bed to the wall sits a wooden chair that was at an angle to the wall and a few feet by the chair there’s a small drawer table. The table had a wax candle sitting in a small metal cup on it. For a place which was equipped with magic stone lanterns why is a candle here instead?

The room would have been empty if not for the three furnitures present.

The only light that lit the room came from that one gigantic glass wall which is staring back at me—the orange glow of the setting sun is slowly being replaced by that of a dull blue which soon after will also be replaced by the black of the night sky.

Atop my little loft people below seem like ants scrounging around to find particles of food left on the floor. Wait, do ants even exist anymore? I don’t remember seeing any since my awakening. It’s more likely they didn’t survive the event… I’m not that sure though, it’s been so long that I am forgetful and perhaps I might have overlooked some tiny details on my journey to find answers. But the chances of them still being around are high since they had their colonies underground. So a fair amount of their total population might have survived, probably.

“Squash them.”

Yes, a part of me agrees with the sentience within me. Right now I have the power to crash them underneath my boot.

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