The Unblessed Child

Chapter Twenty-One - Kit's Last Leg

Aardriyah ran down the steep and winding footpaths, embracing the wind as it pushed through her hair. As she neared the square, Kit landed beside her, barking slightly in an attempt to get her to slow down. The square was more marvellous in day than it had been the night before. She found herself lost in the moment, smiling as she looked up and took in each carved symbol, each painted pattern and every last inch of the buildings surrounding her. Aardriyah wandered aimlessly, not paying attention to where her feet were taking her, lost in a quiet appreciation of the marvellous city around her. It wasn't until Kit growled and barked, that she had realised a group of three men approached her, thin sharp swords in hand.

"Oi, you. What are you doing in Rovik?" The middle man, burliest of them all, yelled out to her. He was covered in scars on his face and wore a dirty and torn array of mismatching and ill-fitting clothes. She turned, panic suddenly arising in her stomach realising she had no weapon or way to defend herself.

"What do you want?" She asked, hopeful that she could perhaps bargain with them, maybe they just wanted a friendly chat and that would be enough to satisfy them. The three men smiled menacingly at each other, sniggering under their breath and approaching ever closer. The fall of their footsteps echoing loudly in the otherwise completely silent city only competing with the growl and bark of Kit who was now fiercely trying to defend his owner.

"Doesn't look like you have much on you, girly. What could you possibly offer us?" The tallest now echoed out. His ears sticking largely out of his head, while his scrawny body lingered forth. Aardriyah felt like congratulating their skill of perception, she in fact had nothing to offer apart from -

"I have naughts and crosses - I can give you as much as you want!" She pulled the chain from around her neck and exposed the array of money, it was the most she had ever possessed yet if it came down to her living one more day or being destitute, she knew which she would prefer. After all, she'd lived most of her life not owning more than a few bronze naughts to her name, so going back to that position would have little impact on her. She'd learnt from Old Man Teme how to make the most of the land around. He had often told her about the fruits and vegetables, seeds and legumes that could be found in different landscapes. He had also taught her that a little bit of seasoning with some herbs could turn a pauper's meal into something you could serve to a queen.

"Leave her alone!" A strong masculine voice echoed out across the square. Aardriyah turned to look as Ven Digo ran gallantly towards her, his hair pushed back by the wind, his shirt flying open revealing his sun kissed olive skin, as his powerful legs were pounding the cobbled pavement. She realised in this light, possibly strung on by the fact that he was attempting to rescue her, that he was quite attractive. She struggled for a moment to reconcile that this was the very same man who only moments earlier jumped in fright from a little fox, barely the height of his knees. Right now, that person seemed entirely devoured by the brave warrior standing in his place.

When he finally arrived at her side, he nodded in greeting, keeping his deep brown eyes on the men in front the whole time. He clenched his fist as tightly as his jaw and putting one foot in front of the other, he braced himself for the oncoming assault. The thugs stopped when he arrived, muttering between themselves as they looked over Ven. Noticing he had no visible weapons, nor did he seem to have any of the markings of a blessed, they sneered and resumed their approach.

"So what is your plan, hero?" Aardriyah muttered under her breath in exasperation to Ven. He looked at her, eyes wide and slowly shook his head.

"Oh I was just hoping they'd have run away by now." He explained, shrugging his shoulders.

"Great!" Aardriyah remarked, completely confused at how Ven had possibly thought this rescue mission would work. Aardriyah thought she even saw Kit sigh in frustration at the failed heroic rescue. In deciding he was the only one who possessed weapons of any kind, Kit ran forward barking, teeth bared. The smaller of the men, bald with a large hook nose, paced forward to Kit and raised his thin right leg, kicking Kit right in the stomach. Aardriyah screamed out to as her beloved fox's body hurdled across the sandstone pavement. His eyes were shut as his body become limp after suddenly stopping by the wall.