by David Angelo
What else was there to add? At times like these, Fin often found his mind veering off topic, and he slipped into a daydream. Fin put his quill pen between his fingers, rested his chin on his palm, and stared out the open window over his desk. From his front-facing room on the second floor of the pub, Fin could see the thatched roofs of houses and buildings that made up the town of Notnedo. The day was unseasonably warm, without a cloud in the sky, and a gentle breeze of fresh, crisp air brushed across Fin’s face. In the streets below, Fin saw wagons and townsfolk going about their everyday tasks on a typical weekday afternoon. A small patrol of musket-wielding Cullidons marched past the front of the pub, their light armor clinking as they went. From the chimney of the inn across the street, there emerged a bat rudely awakened by a cleaner, whose brush could be heard scratching against the sides of the brick. Dazed and still half-asleep, the bat hovered around the chimney before gliding down and disappearing through a hole in the loft of the candle shop next door.
Over the roof of the inn, way out in a field on the outskirts of town, Fin could see a mangled old tree with a single branch whose massive roots were wrapped around a giant boulder. There were never any leaves on this one tree, and many considered its long, twisted trunk to be a bit of an eyesore. But to Fin this tree held deep sentimental value. It was there, almost three years ago, when he had kissed Scarlet for the very first time. Fin had not planned on taking his friendship with Scarlet in that direction when they’d decided to take their lunch break under the tree’s watchful shadow one afternoon. It was as if, in a fleeting moment when nothing else was happening, Fin just thought it was a good idea and went for it. Scarlet responded by slapping him, something that Fin realized later he deserved. However, as luck would have it, that was the last time she’d ever slapped him.
As Fin thought back to those simpler times, when his relationship with Scarlet still retained its innocence, he placed his quill pen in his mouth and began to chew. Fin recalled his first days working at the pub as a young, frightened tween who struggled to cope with his new soundings. Fin was the youngest, the shortest, and the least experienced of the home’s residents, and he often felt alone, unwelcome, and invisible. Granted, the whole house tried to make their newest resident feel as comfortable as possible in his new environment, but it did little to quell the feeling of loneliness that followed Fin around. Now that he thought of it, Fin realized how much he had in common with Cathwise; a lonely, quiet youth who could have blended into the background if he so desired.
Then, about three months after entering Alto’s group home, long after Fin had accepted his lonesome predicament, Scarlet came to live there. Scarlet was around a year younger than Fin and, at the time of her arrival, was closer to Fin’s age than anyone else living in the home. Naturally, the two youngest members drifted together, and eventually, Fin and Scarlet etched out a strong friendship. Scarlet provided Fin with someone to talk to, someone who understood his emotions and was there for him during difficult times. The two helped each other to adjust to their new surroundings and lifestyle, making the transition from childhood to adolescence a little easier for the two of them.
One year after they met, Fin and Scarlet were still the best of friends. But when Fin gave Scarlet that surprise kiss on the cheek, it marked a change in their friendship. Scarlet’s initial rejection to Fin’s advance was short-lived. Before the final stings of the slap had yet to fade from Fin’s cheek, Scarlet had already apologized and admitted that she’d acted too harshly. Fin started to admit that he had been too brash, but before he had time to finish what he was saying, Scarlet’s arms were wrapped around his neck, and her lips were locked onto his. That was how they spent the rest of that lunch break, and they stopped only when an older member of the home yelled at them to get back to work.
From that day forward, it was no secret that Fin and Scarlet were madly in love. If they tried to hide it from other members of the home, they were doing a really poor job. At suppertime they would sit at the same table. During their breaks one of them would never be far from the other. The only times Fin and Scarlet were separated was when they worked, or at night when they departed for their separate bedrooms. But as is often the case with such situations, once kissing ceased to entertain as much as it used to, Fin and Scarlet began to crave something more, something deeper. They wanted to take their love further than ever before, to a place that was not so innocent and pure.
But the problem with trying to “go further” in a group home was that there was very little privacy, few chances for two lovers to have any time to themselves. The two ends of the upstairs living quarters were segregated by gender, and Alto enforced a strict chastity rule.
“I don’t care what you choose to do when you move out,” Alto would say, “but as long as you live under my roof, you will live by my rules, no exceptions.”
Even when Alto would leave for a few days at a time, he often put an older member in charge of the home in his absence. But that all changed when, the previous summer, the eldest member of the house had moved out, and Fin found himself in his older peer’s position of status. The gravity of Fin’s new status sank in quickly, and so did the realization that he would be left in charge when Alto went out of town. When Alto announced one cold winter evening late last year that he would be going on an overnight trip to visit his daughter’s family, Fin and Scarlet began to scheme. Like two convicts conspiring to break out of jail, they mapped out a plan for their evening in charge.
The day leading up to that infamous evening went like every other. When the day was done, and after all the other members of the home had gone to bed, Fin and Scarlet ascended the stairs and stopped in front of the door to Fin’s room. Fin remembered the look in Scarlet’s yellow eyes, which resembled those of a hungry lion. Then when the clock downstairs struck midnight, they bolted into Fin’s room and closed the door. They made love and immediately fell asleep.
Fin and Scarlet woke early the next morning, before anyone else in the home. Fin waited for the last ounces of red to fade from his dorsal spines, then got up and did his morning rounds, while Scarlet discreetly left his room and went back to the safety of her own bed. She would get up an hour later, acting as if nothing had happened. All throughout the day, they maintained a ruse to keep the memory of the night from breaking into the wild. For the most part, it worked; no one at the breakfast table that morning acted as if their secret was out. As far as Fin and Scarlet were concerned, everything was safe.
But there was something strange about Alto’s demeanor in the days following his return home. Whenever Fin approached him, Alto would give him a look that Fin could not pinpoint, like a mix between disappointment and unease. Alto would often say that someone had let him down and betrayed his trust, but he would never say who it was. Fin wondered if Alto had found out, but there was no way. They had done everything discreetly and without anyone discovering them.
Yet again, a week to the day after that night, Alto gave a speech at the breakfast table that went something like this:
“Ya know, I heard about two Faranchie youths who had a one-night stand behind a wood shed, and the girl ended up with a bun in the oven, if you get my pun.”
Fin rolled his eyes at Alto’s ill attempts at humor, but he did not realize what was coming.
“Anyway, they tried to give the baby up for adoption, but no one would take it, and when the Cullidon authorities found out, they imprisoned the parents and sold the child into slavery.”
It was then when it dawned Fin that perhaps Alto was trying to accomplish something more with this little speech. But how could Fin know for sure? Perhaps Alto was just sharing this little event, and it was a complete coincidence that Fin and Scarlet had done something similar a week prior. Fin just tried not to make eye contact with Alto, hoping that his foster father would just drop it right there. But Alto was just getting started.
“As you know, Faranchies are restricted by law to not engage in intimate acts until they are of the ag
e of thirty, as set forth by the Cullidons to control our population growth. I know it’s not fair, since many of you are now at the age when Faranchies typically begin to have nonplatonic relationships. It’s unnatural for you to wait until your thirtieth birthday. But we are a conquered species, and we don’t make the rules anymore. Now, I’m not saying that you should follow the laws verbatim. All I’m asking is, as long as you live under my roof, don’t incur the wrath of the law.”
At that point all Fin wanted to do was bury his head in the dirt and disappear. Scarlet appeared to want to do the same and made up an excuse to head into the kitchen and fire up the oven. But Fin was frozen to his spot, looking into his cup of black coffee while a pit formed in his gut. Even though Alto never called Fin and Scarlet out by name, subtlety was never one of Alto’s strongest qualities. Alto was trying to make Fin and Scarlet uncomfortable by sticking metaphorical knives into both of their chests and twisting slowly for maximum humiliation.
Chills ran down Fin’s spine, all the way to the tip of his tail, as he relieved that hellish ordeal. For over a year, Fin wondered how Alto had found out. It mattered little, though. The only thing that did matter was that Fin and Scarlet would need to postpone other romantic endeavors or risk being kicked out. It was no use trying to argue a defense for themselves; they would need to find an alternative. It was around this time that Fin started saving his tips, hoping to make enough to leave the pub with Scarlet under his shoulder…
“Ouch,” Fin said, when he felt something sharp poke his tongue. To his surprise, during his daydream, Fin had chewed the end of his quill pen to a fine point and had accidentally stabbed himself. Fin looked at the pen, which now resembled a small spear, and wondered how much time he’d spent daydreaming.
“Fin,” Alto called. “Can I see you for a sec?”
Coming back to reality, Fin quickly jotted down the rest of his note and headed for the dining room. He found Alto standing by the bar table, observing an overturned stool with a broken leg.
“They don’t make ’em like they used to,” Alto grumbled when Fin approached.
“What’s the matter?” Fin asked.
“This,” Alto said, motioning to the stool. “Damn thing broke, again, and I’m sick and tired of fixing it. Would you do me a favor and go to the village of Honell and buy a barstool from the local wood carver? I’ll give you the money. And while you’re at it, take Cathwise with you; it’ll be a good learning experience for him. You two should be back before the next shift starts, but it’s been a slow day, and I doubt we’ll get many customers.”
“Sure,” Fin said. “I’ll get the wheelbarrow.”
Fin got the large wooden wheelbarrow and headed to the front of the pub. Cathwise was waiting for him, leaning against the wall under the pub’s sign. Cathwise was red, like Fin, only his skin was lighter in tone, with black markings.
“You ready to head out?” Fin asked.
“Yep,” Cathwise said.
“Hold on,” Scarlet said from inside the pub. She came out with a large leather satchel containing a few things, including the money for the stools.
“Be back soon,” Scarlet said, handing the satchel over to Fin.
“I will,” Fin replied. He gave Scarlet a kiss, threw the satchel in the wheelbarrow, grabbed the handles, and started off, Cathwise at his side.
Fin and Cathwise went through the village’s main entrance and headed down the road toward Honell. Aside from a few farms, there was nothing between Notnedo and their destination. Most of what they passed was wide-open countryside, with a few patches of untamed woodland here and there. During this time of day, under the blue afternoon sky, Fin and Cathwise were the only two on the road.
“I think this is the road that leads to Castle Triticon,” Cathwise said.
“All roads in these parts lead there,” Fin replied. “The entire road layout of southwest Edon is designed around Triticon, to allow the Cullidons to easily navigate to it.”
“Have you ever seen Triticon?” Cathwise asked.
“From a distance,” Fin said. “Even then, it still scared me shitless.”
“I bet,” Cathwise said. “I’ve heard some horrible things about that place. I heard once it’s the worst prison in all the land.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s the worst,” Fin said. “However, Triticon’s overcrowding problem and its notorious torture chambers make it one of the worst, for sure.”
“You sound like a tour guide,” Cathwise said, giving Fin a curious look. “How do you know so much?”
“I’ve met people who served time there,” Fin replied. “They tell me the only light you ever see is from small slits in the ceiling, so it is always dim. They also say that the guards cover their heads with shrouds, with nothing but their eyes exposed, in order to scare the inmates into submission. The guards also like to beat up inmates for no reason, and they are fond of using various torture techniques to punish unruly prisoners. One thing I’ve learned from hearing all these stories—I never want to wind up there.”
“I had a friend who was sent there,” Cathwise said. “We were part of a gang who lived on the streets of Notnedo. Not a violent gang, mind you, just a small group of kids, all of us orphans, who lived together on the outskirts of society and did what we could to survive. Then some nasty stuff happened to us that caused one member to drop dead, another to get sold into slavery, and another, that friend I was talking about, to get thrown in Triticon for having an underage affair. When that happened, I just sort of realized that I’d be next if I stuck around any longer, so I moved into Alto’s home.”
“I’d say that was a good choice,” Fin said.
“How’d you end up at the home?” Cathwise said.
“I grew up in the custody of Alto’s sister,” Fin said. “She owns an orphanage over by Lake Webby, not too far away from here, and when I became too old to live there, she moved me to Alto’s home.”
“What about your family?” Cathwise asked. “I never hear you talk much about them, even when you’re around Scarlet.”
“That’s because I don’t know a whole lot about my bloodline,” Fin said. “I think both of my parents are dead, but I’m not positive. The only thing I know for sure is that I was abandoned when I was a baby, and even if my parents are alive and well right now, I doubt they’ll give a damn about me.”
Cathwise was about to say something but hesitated.
“I’m…sorry, Fin,” Cathwise said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Fin said. “That’s just my opinion on the matter. I’d say more if I knew more about my parents. But because my past is such a mystery, I just have to assume that my folks wouldn’t care if I was alive or not. At least Scarlet has some idea of who her parents were and what happened to them.”
“Oh?” Cathwise asked curiously.
“Well,” Fin started, “I don’t think she’d mind my telling you, but her parents were the leaders of some sort of group or society. Her mother died, and her father is out there somewhere. She figures he’s probably dead by now.”
Cathwise nodded and said nothing more. After coming around a bend, Fin and Cathwise found themselves on a section of road with a farmer’s field to the left and a thick section of woods on the right. At the tip of the bend, Fin stopped and pulled the cart over to the side of the road.
“I think this is a good place to take a break,” Fin said.
“Good,” Cathwise said. “Because I have to attend to something.”
“What’s that?” Fin asked, his hand in the satchel, groping around for his pipe.
“Well,” Cathwise said, “I was really thirsty before we left, and I drank a lot—”
“You couldn’t have gone before we left?” Fin asked.
“I didn’t need to,” Cathwise said. “But it just hit me a few minutes ago.”
“All right, hurry up,” Fin said with a giggle.
Cathwise nodded and headed for the woods. Meanwhile, Fin took out his pip
e, lit a match on the side of the cart, and began to smoke. Leaning against the side of the cart, he looked out into the farmer’s field, its grass as dead as the winter trees, dotted with large, log-like bales of hay.
As Fin began to slip into another daydream and another high, he thought he saw a shape move across the field and hide behind one of the bales. All Fin could tell about this figure was that it was tall and dark and appeared to be draped in a cloak. Fin was overcome with the feeling of being watched. He placed his pipe on the edge of the cart and reached into the satchel for a paring knife he kept for protection. While he hastily searched for the knife, Fin saw another tall, dark figure move out of the corner of his eye, and this one was closer than the last.
“Come on,” Fin grumbled, “where are you?” The knife was not in the bag. Had Scarlet forgotten to pack it? Or was Fin not looking hard enough? Another shape moved to Fin’s left, this time accompanied by an audible footfall on the grass.
“Hurry up, Cathwise!” Fin called. Panic was beginning to set into his veins the longer he stayed there.
Why didn’t you go at home?
Just as Fin was preparing to run into the woods and look for Cathwise, he felt a sharp pain in his left thigh. It was like a bug bite, only stronger. Fin let out a slight yelp, dropped his satchel, and looked down; he saw the end of a dart protruding from the side of his leg.
“What the…” Fin asked, yanking the dart out and examining the end of the long, sharp needle. Out of the corner of his eye, Fin saw a dark shape approach him from his left. Fin slowly turned his head and saw a Cullidon standing a meter away from him, draped in a black cloak and brandishing a small blowgun. Fin turned to run away, only to see two more Cullidons approaching him from his right. Two other Cullidons crept toward him from the field, their blowguns at the ready. Like scavengers approaching a carcass, they cautiously surrounded Fin, waiting to pounce at the slightest move.
Horrified, Fin tried to back away, but a sudden numbness took hold of his legs. Fin grabbed the side of the cart for support as the numb feeling spread throughout his body. Before long Fin’s legs started to wobble, and he had to use the cart for support. Barely able to hold himself up, Fin looked over his shoulder and saw Cathwise standing at the edge of the wood, looking at the crisis unfolding. Fin tried to tell him to run away and save himself, but no words came out. Eventually, the weakness was too much for him to bear, and he let go of the cart. Fin fell down, landing on top of his satchel, as the Cullidons moved in on him. The blue sky above became hazy, and the sounds of the countryside were drowned out by an irritating ringing in Fin’s ears. Fin became calm and relaxed, and a sudden warmth fell over his body in the final seconds before his world went black.