Reborn Skies Book 1

Chapter 1

Year 191 N.W

I guess you're expecting some lengthened, poetic view of the the shimmering waters that calmly scrap the docks of city walls: how the newly set brick--grey as a storm cloud--quietly watched over the crowds of men wandering endlessly down the streets. How the blue sky refracted the beautiful shine of the sun over the world, and all this just to land on your iconic hero awaiting his unexpected journey to 'save the world'.

Well, I'm sorry to inform you that this hero doesn't exist. There isn't some perfectly placed house in the streets of their home town, no underlining destiny, nor some omnipotent villain just waiting to strike down on the peace just to be stopped by the unexpected. There is only the heavy, frozen, dead fall of rain...

The discomforting shiver, both from a gust of the storm's breath and that one or two holes in my cloak, had merely been the icing on the cake when my soaked leather boots slammed their weight on the one creaking wood step as my heavy eyes peered up in the dark: spotting an ancient split wood sign with its nearly unreadable name smacked over its warped grooves. And with a final flick of my shoulders as I entered underneath the slanted hang over of the inn's roof my black cloak shot out the few remaining droplets which its thick fabric was unable to absorb. Oddly enough, however, I had taken some form of an awkward pause in front of this strangely tilted door, breathing in a great amount with thoughts most certainly outward. It felt to my mind as though I couldn't quite bring my arm up to the poorly smithed knob. Instead I stood staring at the dark, almost looking past the scrapped and splintered patterns of oak and too... well that's not important.

"You going to stand there or you going to go on inside?" The crackled scrapping voice had some how ended my trance; though, I merely glanced over through my dark hood--the action hardly noticeable to the elderly man and his chiseled pipe. "Well?"

"Piss off..." the mumble must have given him some form of shock but I had already slammed the door behind me before he could respond. I kept my head down after the unintentional bang, ignoring the softened sparks of a central fire pit and marched straight over to the lone counter to what appeared as the central right side of the building. And although I'm most certain my appearance might have given the young woman at the desk a fright, I could hear an affirmative introduction slip from her chapped lips just as I slipped into one of the front stools--head down at the table. "One room for the night..."

"What was that?" I could hear the slightly hint of hesitation in her voice.

"One room." Instantly I proceeded by sliding a small bag of coins from my cloak. "Some Ale would do nicely as well..."

"It's unfortunate to say, sir, but we are full on rooms ton--" I didn't let her finish. With the cold shiver of the rain still soaked in my clothing just beginning to evaporate from the heated fire the last thing I wanted to hear was that I'd need to depart back to the storm. Instead I calmly stood, looking from within the dark cover of my hood to the few genital men sitting around the flames. Each seemed to have their own assortment of furs and straps--travelers from who knows where. I hadn't given any of the three time to notice myself, the young woman at the counter still filled with surprise of my sudden movement, when my leather glove reached out to the throat of the nearest man: his struggle almost nothing to me. The room went quiet as I slowly dragged the kicking body to the door, is friends or acquaintances merely in utter shock when I finished by tossing the man out into the wet thundering air and slammed the door once more before one could see his clothing absorb the muddy road.

I had no urge to laugh, nor apologize. I could only think of a short rest, for it felt as ages passed last I gained the opportunity to peace. Instead I slowly walked past the now standing group of men by the fire and calmly sat back at the bar: the woman now staring with the clear imitation of fear upon her still eyes.