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Leivrat

"Rejoice! We did it!" cried Aerus, clearly pleased with himself. The children briskly walked down a busy street lined with old dwellings, jumping over the roots protruding the uneven cobblestone pavement.

"You were fast, as usual. I am sure he never knew who took it," said Cloud. Aerus gave her a light playful shove.

"The plan could not have worked better, thanks to your dust-crackers." Aerus was in a cheerful mood. He patted the side of his chest where the coin bag was safely tucked away. There was more inside than they had expected. "With a bit of luck, the King of the Dust will find some use for me! I will be one of his best Dust Men one day!"

He was too intoxicated by the success to notice the change that had overcome his friend. Cloud gave him a worried look, but seeing Aerus' excitement, decided against sharing with him what had occurred. Even if she tried, it would not have been easy for her to put into words what she had seen and the feelings it had stirred inside of her.

Instead, Cloud shook her head to chase away the thoughts. "Dream on! Who would want to have your ugly face around?"

"You are just jealous of my good looks, green-head."

"Your good looks? Ha! The King of the Dust will have only one use for you – as a broom to scrub his floors!" she shot back and ruffled his hair.

Aerus laughed high and loud in return. Cloud hadn't heard him laugh like this since the day they had taken away his father. Creators knew, his short life had been one of hardship. With the coin bag comforting weight, even his walk became lighter and his skinny shoulders straightened slightly.

The rounded the corner and Cloud's house came into sight. In anticipation of what would happen next, Aerus and Cloud counted giggling, "And one! And two! And three!"

At the count of three, they both jumped aside, pushing themselves firmly against opposite walls of dwellings that flanked the two sides of the street.

And good thing they did.

Just then, an old shoe hit the ground where the children just stood.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I do not want to see this beggar around our house?" shouted a husky voice from above.

Both children looked up to where the voice had come from. At first there was nothing to be seen, then slowly, first a balding crown of a head, then bushy brows and at last two pairs of eyes appeared through a square window. They belonged to an older man, clearly struggling to lift himself up and fully lean over the window frame.

"Grandfather! Not again!" shouted Cloud in return, picking up the shoe. Laughing, she waved with it. Her grandfather's stubborn animosity towards Aerus was a great source of entertainment to the two friends. And Aerus made sure he gave Cloud's grandfather enough reasons to shout and rant.

"Wishing you a very pleasant evening, dearest grandfather!" sang Aerus in his sweetest voice.

"I am not your grandfather and will never be as long as I walk this island."

"But grandfather, you already stopped walking this island years ago," Aerus reminded him innocently, a wide grin on his face.

"You dare to make fun of me? Wait until I catch you! I will teach you some respect!" the old man shouted back. "Cloud, get in the house! I will cut off your ears myself if you get matched to this worthless scoundrel!"

Cloud only rolled her eyes.

"What is taking you so long, girl?" A second shoe went flying at the children below. This time Cloud caught the shoe in the air and stuffed it behind her belt.

"I better go now, before he falls out of the window," said Aerus and waved at her hopping down the street toward his own home.

Cloud watched him until he was out of sight. She untied the whip hanging on her hip side. With one swift motion she wrapped its tip around the branch arching over the small dwelling. Once the whip was firmly fastened, she climbed up to the level of the window and then swung herself inside with ease.

Squatting in the window frame and blocking almost all the light, she slowly untied the whip and tucked it away. Once done, she leaned in and gave her grandfather a long warm hug.

"Grandfather, you mustn't get cross with me. You know it will only make you lose more hair!"

"Silly girl! I am already bald." He pretended to look angry, but she knew he was pleased that she had returned and tried to hide it.

"Well, well..." he muttered, as his eyes filled with tears that Veilys of his age were prone to.

The dwelling Cloud shared with her grandparents was nothing unusual for Leivrat. To Cloud, who had grown up on the road and for the most part of her life had called a small rattling carriage her home, the chamber felt like a royal bedroom when she first set foot in it as a small girl.

It consisted of only one chamber with one square window. There was one large bed that occupied one corner. The opposite corner was firmly ruled by a small stove. Over it hovered a wooden shelf with ill shaped pots and plates. One chamber wall was cracked and bulging, threatening to collapse under the persistent invasion of roots. Perched against it, was an old dining table where the small family took their meals. Along the opposite wall hang rows upon rows of herbs and berries of different stages of dryness, waiting for their turn to be transformed into different potions and powders, and taken to the Leivratan market.

When Cloud finally let go of her grandfather, she crossed the chamber and stopped before a small table. Atop of it were a basin and a pitcher with rain water. She filled the basin and washed her face. The coldness of the water felt pleasant on her still glowing face.

She raised her right sleeve and looked at the large red-brown bruise on her upper arm, where the stranger had held her. She remembered the pain and whispered to herself with stubbornness, "I am not cursed!"

It did not make her feel better.

She walked back to the window and joined her grandfather. Together they looked into the distance, over the dark roofs and the misshapen trees, the valley barely an outline where the city ended. They listened to the distant children's laughter and shouting. Swarms of countless birds flickered before them, chirping loudly as they readied themselves for the night.

Somewhere behind the grey clouds, the sun began to set and they slowly watched the darkness descend on Leivrat, the city of the poor and the nameless. Cloud loved this time of the day the most. It was their custom to sit and talk about the day while they waited for her grandmother's return.

With the passing years, Cloud's grandfather had grown more and more helpless and dependent on others, and withered away fast. His hands were too stiff and too dry to pursue his trade – that of whip-making. Only her grandmother's strong will and determination kept him still alive.

Every day he sat in his chair and looked wistfully out of the window at the old roofs of the city. Often, he would surprise Cloud with knowledge of happenings in Leivrat. Cloud was secretly suspected that he somehow learnt to speak with birds. How else would he know more than her, who was out and about all day on the streets of Leivrat? Yet, no matter how hard she tried to learn his secret, he would only smile and play with his thinning beard.

Her grandfather was a man hardened by the life on the road and he loved the promise of freedom it carried more than anyone else she knew. Together they had travelled to the farthest parts of Ailarin, selling the whips her grandfather made and the medicine her grandmother brewed. Yet, that part of their life ended abruptly when her grandfather lost his ability to walk. The life on the road was no longer for them and they had to make their home in Leivrat.

Cloud liked the crowded, buzzing streets of Leivrat, yet it was the road she dreamt of. She missed being out there in the woods and feeling the ancient breath of trees whispering to her; or watching the waves of the ocean clash against the shore; or feeling the sand underneath her feet, warm and treacherous. She dreamt of sitting by the fire again, listening to the cracking of burning wood and old stories the road merchants from all corners of Ailarin told each other.

When they had first settled in Leivrat, for a long time she had no friends, no one to play with. She always knew the colour of her hair made her look different from others of her kind, but there were even stranger things seen on the road. Her grey hair, likened to that of an ancient, only raised brows at most.

In Leivrat, other children laughed at her. Her grey hair stood out and sometimes she could see fear in the eyes of adults. The children called her names and threw stones at her. A girl of a certain character, Cloud would have none of this. She returned bruised and bleeding every time she left the house, yet her grandfather did not allow her to hide inside and whimper. She had to learn to survive alone, he told her. And so she went out and she survived.

Then she found Aerus. Or rather, he found her. She remembered with a smile the skinny boy who tried to steal medicine from her at the market. He wasn't very skilled then and no match for her, someone who had been on the watch for thieves since she was a little girl. Yet, it was her grandmother who took pity on him. She had always been a kind woman. Her grandmother could have called the Aleutan guards, but instead she made Aerus tell her what he needed it for and had gone to his home to cure one of his many siblings.

As time passed, a friendship grew between Cloud and the thief. It was his idea to colour her hair green and wage war on all the other children, until they became the unquestionable leaders in their neighbourhood. There was nothing she would not do for the boy. But for the first time, she could not shake the feeling that something was not right. She kept rubbing her arm and gloomy were her thoughts.

Her grandfather, who could read her better than anyone, gave her side looks now and then, but remained silent. He knew she would tell him what was on her mind when she was ready. He did not have to wait long.

"Grandfather, you have travelled all over Ailarin. You have met the Nehalen in Waterese, their city on the water, and the Arkehons in their Labyrinth of Thorns. And you have even met a Flizer once."

"Ay, my child. That I have done. And much more." His look softened at some long past memories.

"Have you ever come across a very tall man, clad in black and without a face?"

"A man without a face, you say? Is that possible?" he asked.

"His face is hidden behind a hood. And there are no eyes, where eyes should be. All you see is emptiness." Her grandfather raised his brows at that. "Could it have been an Arkehon?" she asked turning her head toward him.

Her fingers toyed with the handle of her whip. It was the last whip her grandfather had ever made, when his fingers had become too stiff and he no longer could pursue the trade of a whip-maker. The whip had caused him the most pain to make it and he was the most proud of. And he had given it to her.

"They have not left the Labyrinth of Thorns since the rise of Aleuta over six hundred years ago. Where have you seen such a man?" asked her grandfather.

"I saw him today at the market. He is the talk of the town." She saw her grandfather frown. "Is anything troubling you, grandfather?"

"I just remembered a story my own grandmother told me when I misbehaved as a child and she wished to frighten me."

"What was the story about, grandfather? Do tell," Cloud asked with eagerness.

"It was a very long time ago, you see. A lot of grief I caused my grandmother as a small lad," he said smiling. "And on the very bad days, she would tell me that in the time long before the Lost War, there was one who wanted more than the Creators had given, and he was cursed to hide from the eyes of the world behind a dark veil. His face never to be seen until he redeemed himself. And so he would wander the world ever since and take with him all the naughty children."

Seeing Cloud's face growing pale, her grandfather patted her on the arm.

"It is just an old tale to frighten the small ones, nothing more. And if there ever lived such a man, he would be long dead. The man the good people of Leivrat speak of, is just someone who does not want to be known. That's all." He patted her top of her head with affection.

"Yes, that must be it, grandfather," she replied, yet the uneasy feeling did not leave her. She rubbed the place the stranger had touched once more and felt it still throbbing underneath the sleeve.

Somewhere behind the clouds, the sun set at last, and the darkness descended on the city. The priests in the temples that dotted the city began to sing their praises to the Four Creators.

Aerus whistled to himself as he walked home, savoring the heaviness of the coin bag in his chest pocket. He saw light shimmering through the window of his home and heard children's voices inside. He readied himself for the smell of sickness that lived in his home now, and was about to open the door.

Something made him hesitate.

When he turned to look over his shoulder, the hair on his back stood up. All his instincts told him to run, but a strong hand had already grabbed him firmly by the neck and another closed over his mouth before he even thought that screaming for help might be a good idea. He suddenly felt cold shooting through him and he tasted the raw surface of a glove.

He didn't know if he really heard a low husky voice or if it spoke inside his head.

"Today was a bad day to be a good thief."

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Note from the writer:

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