A Note from Mri
Trigger Warning: Graphic violence is depicted in this solo. Read at your own discretion.
The streets of Obsidian City, as they were most evenings, were bustling with activity. Oblivionites moved to and fro, going about business or their daily lives. Vendors sold their wares on the street, be they simple trinkets or delectable foods people could get from tiny stalls on the corners. Even the occasional hybrid could be seen wandering about, though they were fewer and farther between than the full-blooded Oblivionites that called the city their home. There were even people who lingered about the sidewalks, chatting with friends as they came across them, passing along simple pleasantries to be courteous. It was on one of these streets, in the upper class area of the city, that a weapon shop could be found. Soudana’s Fury – aptly named for the goddess that the Oblivionites worshiped – was one of the best (if not the best) weapon shops in the entire city, and it was into this same weapon shop that a twelve year old girl slipped into, discreetly.
Ebalia was petite for a girl of her age. Although she was twelve years of age, she probably could have passed for as young as ten, if she really wanted. Such was the luxury of malnourishment and having to scrounge for her meal almost every night, but the girl didn’t complain. When you had the life that she had, one learned quite quickly that complaining didn’t really get one very far. In some cases, it often caused more trouble instead of help. Ebalia’s clothing was quite unique: one of her legs was adorned in a harem-style pant, the other leg was a short cut off above the knee. A simple shirt, covered with a short-sleeved coat to cover her shoulders, simple slip-on shoes, and a mask to cover the lower part of her face. Aside from that, she also had three bracelets: two on each hand, and one on her left ankle, and copious amounts of ribbon to decorate her lavish curls. Despite her somewhat lavish clothes, appearances could be deceiving. The girl was most assuredly not as well off as she looked; quite the opposite. She was homeless, in fact.
Living on the streets had its advantages. Ebalia had the luxury of not having to linger in one place for too long. As such, she was free to move about Obsidian City, living in the red light district one day while calling the alleys of the upper class district her home the next. Since she was in the neighborhood, and since it was rather chilly outside, the young girl liked to frequent the various shops from time to time. It got her out of the elements and allowed herself to stay busy. It was for such reason that she slipped inside Soudana’s Fury, curious to see what wares the shop had in store that evening.
“Damn it all,” cursed the shop owner, a fat and balding Oblivionite named Falvi, “not you again!” Immediately upon her arrival, the shop keep flashed her both a grimace and a glare from eyeless sockets. This wasn’t the first time that Ebalia had frequented Soundana’s Fury, and it seemed that Falvi was getting a little tired of her prescience. The girl, however, didn’t seem fazed by this in the slightest. Instead, she rolled with the man’s disdain, shooting him a playful yet sarcastic, “Falvi, you wound me. You know how much you enjoy my company.”
The merchant grumbled, muttering this curse and that under his breath before responding, “You know I don’t. It’d be different if you had some coin, but all you do is look.” Ebalia just shrugged her shoulders simply. When you lived on the streets, money was hard to come by, so unfortunately for him, looking was all she could really afford to do.
Rather than talk to the man further, seeing as he was already grumpy by her simply just being there, Ebalia busied herself with looking around. Most of the items that Falvi kept in his shop, she had already seen before. There were masterwork swords, ideal for warriors who were skilled at wielding them, blunt weapons that the barbarians favored, which were more useful for bashing skulls in. Off on the right wall a number of different types of bows were arranged, accompanied by matching quivers full of arrows. The left side of the store was solely for magical items: staves, wands, and the like. This was generally the area that the girl gravitated, but not on that particular day. The center of the shop, on a pedestal covered with a glass case, was where the merchant kept his special item of the week. These items were usually rarer types of weapons – perhaps a strange style of weapon, or one of particularly fine craftsmanship. It was toward this area that Ebalia found herself being pulled that evening, intensely focusing on the weapon inside.
Based on appearance alone, she had to say that it was a dagger. Having thought that, she knew that it wasn’t your average one, for regular daggers were not wavy in terms of their blade. They also weren’t generally adorned with rubies and accompanied by a hilt of pure alabaster. No – there was something special about this weapon, and Ebalia wanted to know what.
“Hey, Falvi, quick question: what’s the deal with the dagger, and can I hold it?”
Behind the main counter toward the back of the store, she could hear the man grunt. If he had eyes, he would have rolled them, but instead he just stepped out from where he was and moved over toward the pedestal and the case. “It’s my special item of the week, is what it is, and why should I let you put your grubby little hands on it? Spellblades aren’t for children.” A smirk tugged the corner of Ebalia’s lips upward. So that’s what it was, a spellblade. That explained her sudden intrigue in the item. She had a hidden knack for anything magic related.
“Please,” she went on to ask, her smirk fading into a pleading look. “Just for a second!” Falvi glared at the girl again, shook his head from side to side, but carefully unlocked the case. “I should warn you – if it doesn’t like you, you’re going to know, and don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you lose your life because of it, that’s not my fault.” With that, he pulled out the dagger, and then handed it over to the girl.
Eagerly, she took the dagger from the shop keep, gingerly holding it as she examined the weapon more closely. It was a beautiful weapon, most certainly, and she could see why Falvi kept it locked away. There’s no way he would be able to simply have a weapon of this kind and make adorning the walls like a simple sword. Someone would pinch it without hesitation. Hell, Ebalia was tempted, herself, but there’s no way she’d get away with Falvi standing right in front of her. Much to the surprise of the older Oblivionite, nothing seemed to happen when she took hold of the dagger. “So much for dying,” she commented, laughing openly at the man. Although nothing major happened, something small did catch the young girl’s attention: the rubies that adorned the dagger glistened. Since it was probably nothing, Ebalia didn’t say anything, and instead continued to fawn over the special blade.
“Alright, brat,” Falvi spat, jutting an open palm out to Ebalia, “time to give it back.”
“Just a minute more?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No!”
An exasperated sigh, followed by a reluctant, “Fiiine…” from Ebalia, echoed throughout the shop. Without another word, she gave the dagger back to the merchant, and was unable to keep from pouting. Such a cool weapon would be amazing to have, but there was no way she’d be able to afford such things. It’d probably cost more than the entirety of the house she used to live in, maybe even twice that, though that was neither here nor there. All she knew was that she couldn’t have it, and the Oblivionite girl found herself wanting.
What happened next, however, was entirely unexpected for the both of them. Just as Falvi was about to put the dagger back into the case, he let out a loud, blood-curdling scream. The shriek had caught the twelve year old off guard, and she jumped in her surprised, her mouth dropping in response as well. What was going on was not pretty. Not at all. It was probably something that most only saw in their nightmares.
Falvi’s arms twisted, contorting into odd shapes before snapping over his head. They twisted once they were up there, and Ebalia could hear the man’s bones breaking as he wailed and wailed. Other bones could be heard breaking – his ribs, this time, as they twisted out and broke through the skin of his chest. From what she could tell, blood was also coming not just the wounds he had received, but from his ears, nose, and mouth as well. Instead of pooling into large masses on the floor, the blood lingered in the air before finally moving toward the actual dagger itself. It then seemingly disappeared into the blade, leaving the rubies to glean once again the moment all the blood was gone.
It had happened in an instant: one moment Falvi was trying to put the dagger back into its case, and the next he was a broken, dried out husk on the floor of his very own store. All while it happened, Ebalia couldn’t keep herself from grinning. Most would have been terrified at what she just saw, while others would have wretched the contents of her stomach, but not her. She reveled in this sudden an unexpected chaos. Falvi’s torment was almost laughable, and she actually had to hold herself back from doing it a few times, but no longer. Now that the man was dead, she openly giggled as she reached down to pick up the spellblade.
“That was awesome.”
Before making her exit, the Oblivionite allowed herself to move over to the case the weapon had been kept in. As she had expected, and like all of Falvi’s special items, this weapon had a name: Lifedrinker, it was called. How fitting. Grinning from ear to ear, Ebalia sheathed the dagger, tucked it safely in her coat, and then made a mad dash out of the shop. Given the volume of the merchant’s screams, there were bound to be people there soon to see what the commotion was all about, and she did not want to be there when they arrived.
No, it was time for her to start out on her own adventures, just she and Lifedrinker.
(Word Count: 1,785)
