Turbinio

Valerian Roots

''Be careful... risk of coyotes...'' You read a sign ahead. ''I'm sure we've seen worse things than coyotes, but that's still bad.''

You hadn't thought about the effects of a long trip sitting on a hard wooden bench. You looked doubtfully at the horizon, noting that it was already getting dark, and you raised a thick blanket on the roof of your wagon. Your back, legs, and feet ached terribly and all your body was asking for at that moment was a little blood circulation. Several hours of torture during the journey did nothing to improve your mood. So you sent your goal of staying ahead of the runners to hell.

The road was quiet, with that kind of absolute silence that comes when you're miles from any other city. A kind of tranquility so hard to find at the finish lines. The only sounds there were the rustling of plants, the occasional hoot of a night bird, and the dull thud of Cadichon's paws.

You found a clearing set back from the road and lit a single lamp to light the place. The clouds had now torn apart and dispersed in the night wind, leaving only a few trails in front of a bright crescent moon. Despite the light, you couldn't see anything ahead in the woods, but could hear some strange sounds very well.

Ignoring the sounds, you poured yourself a cup of valerian tea. Sleeping naturally had become an arduous task, so the grated roots were your best friends on chilly nights like this.

You heard another sound, this time loud and clear. A dry branch snapped as if something wanted to approach slowly. It was late at night and the place was very inviting for robbers, already quite plentiful on any Steel Ball Run route.

The forest was dark, but not inert. The trees were roaring softly to themselves, millions of leaves rustling in the wind. Very ancient and mysterious in the darkness. Only you, said to yourself angrily, could be scared of a bunch of trees. But what was making that noise? Without thinking twice, you hold your carbine.

A hand grabbed your shoulder and made you squeal like a startled bat; It's a natural consequence of trying to scream with your heart in your mouth. With the irrational fury of an irrationally terrified woman, you responded with an elbow to the chest. Then turned and fired into the dark, hitting the ground.

As the smoke from the shot cleared, you saw a man tossing his disheveled hair back and forth. It didn't look particularly like a brute or an aggressor in the light of the crescent moon. It was just Diego. But seeing him didn't lessen your anger.

''Don't sneak up on me, you son of a bitch!''

''Easy, (Y/N).'' He held up both hands in a peaceful gesture. ''It's me, Dio!''

''What do you want, 'Dio'?''

''If you put the gun down, our conversation would be more pleasant.''

You clenched your jaw tightly, determined not to let any fear show on your features. Then, lowered your carbine, and he lowered his hands.

''It's not very smart to approach someone with a gun like that.'' You said, snorting with an embarrassed smile.

''You pose no risk to me, Miss (Y/N).''

You were slightly relieved. But what would he do if you posed him some risk? Would kill you? Maybe he already made that clear.

''I asked you a question. What do you want?''

''I didn't think I'd see you at this stage.'' He gave a smug smile. Charming, you thought, but too presumptuous. ''I wondered if maybe it was a good idea to keep a lady company camping alone... even if I don't think she was in any danger.'' He jerked his chin toward your carbine.