Day 4 - The Gunsmith's Gamble

[Corporal Light]

Roughly one hour later

splish

splash

splish

splash

It was raining. It had started a good few minutes prior, but didn't really pick up until that moment. It began with a roar of thunder that reverberated across the forest, followed by a sprinkle of droplets falling through the trees above. Finally, the sprinkle turned into a flood, with no sign of stopping.

The large, green barriers that formed the forest soaked up the liquid, filling them with life. They glistened under the dark, foreboding clouds that threatened to invade the landscape. Overlap it with eternal darkness. But the trees would fight valiantly. To the very destruction of the world, if it was required, for their lives and for the life of the forest they resided in.

Just as it should be.

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The duo trudged down the muddy path displayed in front of them. The green-jacketed man was leading the way, with the brown-coated woman following close behind. In the depths of the woods, the rain was not as bad, but it was clear they had penetrated the trees a long while ago. A pattering noise was all that was discernible as the water connected with the grass and dirt. Ballad's black winter boot kicked up puddles of water as he stepped into them, caking his feet with grime as the droplets blackened his coat and hat. His gloved hands were firmly planted inside the pockets of his overcoat while his head was aimed down towards the path before him, daring not to look back.

The woman's pelt was similarly drenched, to the point where visible moisture dripped from the ends of it near her waist. Her boyish hair was matted down onto her forehead, but this did little to conceal her attitude. She had a small smile on her face, and was looking around, occasionally nodding in approval towards some random detail she happened to see. She was the only other source of noise in the forest; the rocking of her canteen against her body produced a clanging noise of metal on metal like clockwork. The green gunner had frowned at her when he started paying attention to the noise, but let the issue slide after that. He just kept his head straight and walked forward with no other goal in mind at that point.

What was a true issue, however, was the fog. It was everywhere, and it was wearing down his patience for it as fast as the rain wore down the dryness of his attire. His extra-sensory glowing eyes had obvious trouble peering through the haze around him, only capable of distinguishing mere gray shadows out of the organisms and plants within their path. He couldn't imagine how difficult it must have been for the girl to be seeing things farther than ten feet in front of her. She was human, after all.

“How much farther?” The woman asked, stopping to pluck a large, white flower out of the ground. It was drooped down towards the earth, and looked rather dry despite its grizzled petals.

“I don't have a damn clue, miss. We could be fifteen minutes from there, or we could be fifty.” Ballad replied, turning around to look at the teenager. He didn't bother taking a look at the flower she had delicately snatched from its roots.

She sighed, slowly sliding the stem through the straight, gold locks of her hair, placing it next to her right ear. She giggled, saying “How do I look?” as she adjusted her position a bit, allowing the man a chance to observe it.

He didn't need very long. “You should probably get a better looking flower.”

“Hmmph...” The lady replied, thwacking the bloom out of her curls, “Should we stop? Make camp?”

The winter soldier brought his arms up to his chest, crossing them as glared at her. “Listen, miss, we don't hav-”

“It's Immy. Call me Immy.” She interrupted, which seemed to throw the green gunsmith through a loop. He paused for a few moments before speaking again.

“Ok...ay. Listen, uh... Immy, we don't have time for that. I'd much rather get out of here now than risk camping out and being found again.”

“You said yourself that they aren't going to come after us for a while. We have time, don't we? At least for a few hours?”

Ballad closed his eyes, running the question through his head. His mind went through to numbers, rain, distance, and fog. Eventually, he reopened them before saying a half-heartened “Alright... but only for a few hours. No later.”

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Roughly ten minutes later

They had finally managed to finish the campsite, which was a pretty good achievement in and of itself, considering they lacked an open space. All they really did was look around, picked a tree they both liked, and used some quick Omnillium summoning and improvisation to make it. It composed of a red and white striped carpet that was big enough for both Immy and Ballad to sit on, which was covered by a long, green wrap suspended above them with a stick shoved into the ground. The towel was also connected to a low hanging branch, concealing them from above. The carpet was scratchy, but otherwise comfortable, and the sharpshooter was trying his best to get some rest.

He had his hands behind his back in a criss-cross position; his eyes were closed and he was silent. The lady, however, was different. She rocked back and forth impatiently, her arms around her knees as she shivered. Even her fur coat wasn't enough to keep the cool air from seeping into her skin and chilling her to the bone.

“Say, uh.... what was your name again?” She said, glancing towards her temporary partner.

The man opened his right eye, looking towards the girl. His eye glimmered yellow as he said “Ballad. I didn't pick it.”

“Ballad... nice name.”

“Mmhmm..” the man replied, going back to resting.

Immy sighed, leaning against the bark of the tree. “Which village are you taking me to, Ballad?”

“I don't know. The first one I went to.”

“The Unnamed Village?”

“Yeah, the-” He was about to say before spreading out his eyes, staring at the girl.

“The Unnamed Village. It was made a few years ago by some people by orders of King Aragorn. He wanted it to be the best village visitors ever saw, and brought it close to this forest to do that.”

“Why doesn't it have a name?”

“I dunno.... I never found out.”

“What do you mean?”

Immy looked briefly down towards the carpet, her left hand sliding down towards the fabric. She gripped the crimson-snow rug, hesitating a bit before speaking some more.

“I, uh.... I was born there, you know? My parents owned a general store. Sold a lot of goods. From food to accessories to a whole manner of other stuff. My dad worked the counter while my mom did outside dealings like advertisement. I did my own thing, but I always wanted to help out, you know? Dad never let me, though. Said I was too young.”

“How old were you?” Ballad said, unexpectedly curious.

“Eight. I was a silly kid.”

“Still a silly kid, apparently..” The pickaxemen muttered.

“Hmm?” Immy said, her fist loosening.

“Nothing. Continue.”

“Well... me being a silly kid, I'd do anything for my family, you know? I mean, who wouldn't? It's family. I wanted to impress them, right? I wanted to impress my daddy...”

Immy started to sniffle, bringing her left hand up to her nose. Ballad's eyes seemed to dim a bit as he watched her wipe it before proceeding.

“So... one night.. can't remember which...” She spoke, her voice cracking as a single tear started to form on her right eye, “I guess I was trying so hard to hear their approval. To let me help them, you know? So... when the knocks on the door started after the last customer left, I ignored my father. I went and opened the door and.... and....”

“And?”

“And they came in.... they robbed the place...killed mom and dad... they left me alive... told me to run.. run away... or else they'd kill me too...”

“All this.... at eight?” The gunner said, his tone disconcertingly quiet.

“The only thing keeping me going was them.” She whimpered, tears streaming down her face. “I hoped that they weren't dead. Just hurt, you know? They'd come back.... they had to. I didn't want to be alone, you know? I would see them again... I would see mommy and daddy again. I'd-... I'd..”

She didn't keep going. Instead, she brought her hands to her face, bawling into them. The gunsmith had since moved his hands off of the back of his head, motionless. He at first reached forward, as if to hug her before quickly bringing his arms back. Her paws obstructed her view as the gunner stood up and walked off without a word, though the glow in his eyes never reignited.