Tik Tok (closed to Hawl)

[Skie and Avery]

There was a clock in the alley.

It sat, mounted on the brick outside of an old building, huddled between two windows that were covered with dark curtains. It gleamed when the sunlight raced down the alleyway, the many blades that comprised its surface shimmering. The hands themselves were two daggers that moved smoothly, the gears within clicking quietly away. Here and there, it would chime, but never on time with the cathedral bells that echoed through the streets of Ettermire.

Despite being the quickest way between two major thoroughfares, the alley itself was usually empty. Skie liked it that way, it made moving through the city faster, and made progressing across the alley safer. Her steps echoed on the cobblestones, and she’d passed the clock enough times for the novelty of a bladed timepiece to wear off. Once she passed beneath it and was putting the middle of the alley to her back, the clock began to ring.

The light chimes were almost lost to the sounds of a waking city, but despite their timidity a few elves passing by on the other side stopped to look quizzically down the street. Skie shrugged and looked quizzically at them, meeting the eyes of one Drow who was looking at her in what she might have said was pity if there were any reason for it.

“Not sure when they’re ever going to fix that,” she said conversationally, a little nervous. In her time here in the Alerian capital, she’d never known elves to seem interested in something that had nothing to do with them. “Damn thing’s been chirping at me every morning for a week!”

The few who had stopped backed away, the Drow who had caught her gaze moving to cross the street without care for a wagon that was rolling through, nearly falling under the great turning wheels. They’d moved away from her so quickly that Skie sat stunned for a second and then looked down at her clothes to see if it was something about the way she looked that repelled everyone. She seemed fine, but before she could ask she found herself alone in the street.

[Hawl]

“Can’t I go now?” The stick of the girl hopped from one foot to the other, her new pants brought specifically for the trip to Alerar already worn at the knees and the hems stained with dirt and grime from the streets. They were outside her uncle Reznik’s small office, near the center of Alerar. Hawl had a vague indication that it probably cost as much as the ship they took from Scara Brae to the drow’s country.

“Not yet, repeat what I have said,” Reznik replied. The two couldn’t be more opposite. The man was nearly twice Hawl’s height, looking down at her with mirth in his eyes. His gray beard, square and expertly trimmed every second or third day, contrasted against his dark skin. His belly, or either of his massive arms, probably weighed more than the small girl did sopping wet.

“Yes, Uncle,” she shifted the bag from one foot to the other. Her shoulder ached already from the messenger bag given to her from her Uncle. It held a delivery and enough gold for Hawl to find something she could devour and probably over indulge in. Her Uncle Reznik always let her do that, when he took her on trips, doting on the small girl knowing full well he’d wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout of spoiling her rotten later. This trip he had given her a smaller poncho she now wore, complete with a good that her thin body practically swam in.

“Go to Mr. Black’s office and give him the package,” Hawl intoned, a vague imitation of her uncle’s clipped accent in her voice. She produced the package, a sphere wrapped in glossy wax paper and twine. She nodded at it “Then be back before sundown so you won’t need to tan my hide.”

“You are pale as milk, you need to be tanned!” Reznik raised an eyebrow, moving his hand in a circular motion for Hawl to continue. He was smiling now, his attempt at being the serious responsible adult slipping. “What else?”

“Learn three things so that I don’t waste my day” She sighed, the exchange familiar to her now. She looked up at his expectant face. “… No new pets?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The ally way was a common little shortcut for Hawl by the end of her second day as courier. This time her package, wrapped up in wax paper once again, was only the size of her fist. She could tell as she tossed it from hand to hand, enjoying the shaky little vibrations as she caught it. Her uncle Reznik had said not to do that in case it broke, but she was really good with her hands! She didn’t need to listen to her uncle’s warning, especially for something this light .

The little package, with its shiny wax paper, went flying in the air as the girl bumped into the stranger with the sword.

“Oh no oh no!” It spun twice in the air, Hawl’s fumbling hands scrambling to try and catch it! She managed to sort of slap it back into the air, her eyes going with with fear as it began to reach the apex of is soaring arc. Her pleading eyes crossed over the woman as the package escaped her grasp.

The clock took that moment to chime, as the little courier’s only parcel began to fall.

[Skie and Avery]

Skie’s hand reflexively moved to her sword hilt when she’d been bumped. The leather under her fingers was a comfort, but not as much as seeing who had hit her. A slip of a girl with wide blue eyes and a shock of blonde hair was staring in abject panic. Skie stepped back and reached out, grabbing the package as it descended towards the cobbles. The wax paper slipped and fumbled in her fingers, but she was relieved when she didn’t drop it. Turning her attention back to the little courier, Skie held out the package. It was unassuming, and not terribly heavy, twine and paper. Skie had a feeling it was important.

“Kyone,” she said brightly to the girl. “Take care in Ettermire, the streets are ruthless if you’renot paying attention.”

Before the girl took back the package, it shuddered in her palm. Skie’s eyes widened and she cradled it in both hands as it shook. The wax paper was warming at her touch, and something was pushing at it from within. She mouthed a curse as the twine that wrapped the small parcel tightened and snapped. The brown paper ripped, the shiny edges giving as something pushed outward. Through the rip, shards of egg coated in the muck of the womb appeared. They were stuck to the tiniest scaly muzzle that Skie had ever seen. An impossibly small wyrm head peeked out, blinking green slitted eyes at the girls.

Down the alley, the clock began to chime again.

[Hawl]

The relief on the girl’s face was obvious, staring up at the woman who saved her entire life before her, the easy adoration that heroes receive after hard work. She recovered from their collision, her body visibly relaxing as all of the tension just slipped out of her. Reznik’s parcel that he had given to her personally in one massive hand, entrusted into her care, and even paid her like a real adult was safe! Hawl’s slender hands came up to her mouth in glee, literally hopping on the balls of her feet as her savior’s quick hands saved her life!

“Th-thank you so much ma’am th-“ the girl ut herself off as the little parcel shifted, and the small wyrm’s head began to stare out. Hawl made grabby hands at the little package in the shadowy alley, controlling herself before gently taking the baby beast with a crestfallen face.

“M-maybe’ll I can.. Wrap it up agai-“ She stopped herself again, picking up a larger piece of the egg shell. It had a rough, knobby texture, like old ornery wood. She, tongue sticking out in concentration, placed it on the small wyrm’s head like a small soldier’s helm. She started to force it down, forming a nearly complete egg again though run through with the spider cracks of birth. The wyrm squeaked in its most menacing voice, wriggling in the egg and freeing its head. Death shone in its adorable little eyes and the eventual fell wyrm, terror of nations gummed Hawl’s middle finger with a toothless maw.

“No no no no!” Hawl moaned, lifting her unhurt finger, the small scaly beast falling back with a plop. It squeaked again with a tiny puff of flame. The wax paper curled with the small candle flame, the twine catching and burning up Hawl’s hand. She yelped, transferring the small wyrm to her other hand and letting the remnants, paper and twine and all, fall to the ground where it burnt out the rest of its fuel. Its light was quickly swallowed up and the entire world a darker place now that Hawl ha betrayed her Uncle Reznik’s trust in her. He would never forgive her after this!

“I-I…” She sniffed, eyes already beginning to get puffy. She held up the little wyrm again, the fearsome beast trying to gnaw on Hawl’s ring finger without any progress. She looked up at the stranger who had saved her just moments before. It felt like an age since then, but the chime of the alley’s clock couldn’t have been more than a few seconds since the wyrm hatched.

“I .. I need to get to the seventh streeet, Ma’am.W-where is it? The one with the college nearby…”

[Skie and Avery]

The girl was endearing, to be sure. Skie made soothing noises and tousled the girl’s hair, doing her best to give a warm smile. She was like a little chick, and every instinct to be a mother hen was rising in Skie. When her large eyes, glistening with tears, upturned to the swordswoman, she couldn’t stop herself from declaring herself this child’s champion.

“Call me Suri,” she said gently.

“Hawl, ma’am,” came the sniffled reply.

“Even if it was an egg, there’s no sense in wrapping up a dragon in paper. Don’t fret, it will all be fine.” She stepped back and scanned the streets, getting a bearing on where she had been and where she’d been going before looking back to the girl.

“I can show you there. Ettermire’s no place for a girl to bring something so valuable. I can’t believe you were sent alone.”

They moved through the city together, the cobbles under their feet giving way to paved streets as they entered the heart of Ettermire. Buildings rose on either side of them, stone facades carved into elaborate murals. The city was function and art, the strength of the dwarves with the form and function of the Drow. All the while, the dragon was rolling and playing in Hawl’s hands. Skie had to admit it was cute.

Here and there the beast would drape its tiny form across her wrists and look upward at them. He blew smoke rings, let the sunlight shimmer down his scales and stretched two functionless wings happily. It was distracting, and Skie didn’t like that. Somehow she felt as if they were being watched. Sure, they were garnering stares because of their adorable charge, the way he was squawking eliciting squeals of delight from children that they passed. That wasn’t it, she knew. It was a different kind of watchful gaze.

It was as they turned down seventh street and began to make their way to the building that Hawl had been charged to deliver the dragon when Skie could have sworn she heard the soft echoing of a clock chime. Scanning the street at both entrances, Skie slowed her steps and placed a hand on the hilt of her sword. In a dark alley, she could barely see movement. Had someone taken more than a passing interest in the hatchling?

“Show yourself,” Skie said softly, placing herself between the girl and the figure. She could feel the dragon behind her sniffing at her back, fluttering with a restless curiousity. Before she could tell Hawl to run, the figure stepped forward. It was tall, towering over any average man by at least a head. It wore robes as ancient and gleaming as the stars in a night sky, and over their face was a dark mask shaped like the face of a wild dog that roamed the Alerian plains.