“It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.” ― William Blake
I have learned as you saunter through the despair and sorrowof life’s predicaments that good things only happened so often, at least formyself and those surrounding me. Everyone, and everything, was temporary. Along period, sometimes shortened if requirements weren’t met but nonetheless – lifelessruffians drifted to and fro from the inner circle of our family. It was nodecision on their part, but on our own; a sort of contract, or soul bindingritual where we eventually slay you when you are no longer of service. Allcommands and orders were given from my father, whom was a truly brilliant butobscenely paranoid man. He looked very much like me, but his ears were not slitto fit those of a Human. Ebony locks attached to his chin formed in an upside triangularshape, and that was about all in the difference between us.
I remember the day in which tables dare turn and rumor wouldspread from ear to ear of whom was offed next, I did not care for I would betold. Seeing as I, was the one whom did such tasks and so well that some sortof respect was restored between my father and I – would be told last of thosethat were meeting their demise. But there was forever an agitating and dare Isay it eager desire to rid of him. Not for power, or money, nothing materialistic.It, in lack of a better term would be revenge. Simple.
The clock struck twelve when I slid from the rooms enclosurewhere most of us gathered to drink and discuss things, nothing important ofcourse. Mostly mindless banter accompanied by your arm snug over a woman’swaist, and the hopes that your hand of cards could win you a few extra gold. Ileft without the broad as means of lonesome comfort, standing no more than fivefeet away from the safehouse. Free hand captured a slim, tin case which wasbeing brought forth so that thumb my strike the binding open. One, singular,finely rolled cigarette was withdrawn and slid between my tiers. As the casereturned to its holder, hand shoved into my pocket as means of finding alighter, “ —–Fuck.” But of course.
At this very moment I heard the sly, echoing dabble of shoesdrawing near and I must say a strike of fear followed suit, rattling my bonesbare as teeth grit against one another with no sympathy for any pain. It wasinevitable. I but clicked my heels, the crystalline glass in hand now fallingto the cobblestone ground as Whiskey drew over mahogany bared leather, thevibrant sound of glass shattering was of no distraction – hastily this samepalm captured the butt of a revolver that was held snug by its casing materialstrung to my right thigh. It is drawn, my eyes flickered forth and a click pierced the air once said weaponshammer drew back from the rolling of my thumb.
“Ey, budeh, it’s me.” The shadow drew near even with abarrel aimed to their chest and finally it had dawned on me, Haljitraz. A goodfellow, I tell you, hunched back and two long rimmed tusks attached on eithercheek. A shade of teal, he was quite marvelous to look at, I’ll admit. Withfiery red locks, truly as if the pit of a volcanos lava. I was never a fan oftrolls, but he, was my family. “I gotcha sumthin yah must be seein, I tell yah.But I gots to get goin, and yah tell nuh one of us meetin. Gots me? I reallygots tuh go, Maenden, good luck bruthah.” Alarming, as if my paranoia was noteating at me enough, now this happens. Before the male had left, in his hasteful fumbling of words, a piece ofparchment – folded neatly and creased tightly, with a sanguine seal; my fathers,ah yes! Finally, my task may be completed! My day was spent wasting away on themirth-filled activity which would soon happen, but something was odd and seemedpoorly done. The letter, itself, had been previously opened by another. And onthe other side of this holder, was a name scribbled in fine scripture ofcursive, it read, “Asgard.”
Thumbs moved with much speed as means to read over what laybeneath the hidden text, simply out of curiosity as to why a hit was not forme. Why it was for a man I did not know, and most importantly; Haljitrazs’reaction of its contents. A moment is taken so that I may inhale deeply, mychest pushing forth as fully possible so that air is sucked to their verydepths. That, was when a sigh ensued, and with very timid intents I dare openthe folds and creases of an item that made my stomach drop. Oh, how a piece of elegantand finely made material could draw me aback to such a point where the onlything heard within the knockings of my brain was the thumping of a steadyheartbeat. It was loud, obnoxious I must complain but when the name singular stated,in my fathers perfected artistry on writing syllables came out to spell, “Maenden.”
Itwas only a matter of time.
