Kaleidoscope
 

Red. Orange. Blue. Green. Even a hint of yellow. It was all there. The colors merging and spinning. Almost like a dance, crossing eachothers paths and then splitting off again. The patterns and images were beautiful to the mere human eye, yet to Scar, they held images of terror, fear, brutality... He could see everything which they could not. Scribed with a single pointed stone. Into hard, cold glass. It was as if he was trying to push through to find meaning, to shatter the reflection of himself to find a deeper purpose to these images that clouded his mind. He gave up. Setting the black stone to one side, he looked at the swirls upon the mirror before him. Glancing at the pretty colors which had formed, almost liked stained-glass. He could just make out parts of his own face in the mirror, through the colors and shapes that he had made with his frantic scribbling. He was worn, weathered and now, very tired. So he slept.

Echo awoke. She'd had a long, hard day collecting junk and polishing up old pots and pans. Soon she'd be able to head to the city where Scar was awaiting and finally make some money for the both of them. Pushing back the crumpled cotton sheet, she stretched and yawned and then opened the curtain. She had slept in the back of the caravan which would be their stall in the city of Immrah. She'd polished the bells on the side, put new drapes up on all sides, even shined the seat on which she'd sit. The horse was already awake, eating at the grass along the roadside.

"Today is the day." she smiled happily, her grin almost reaching ear to ear. She brushed back her short red hair, tucking it behind her elven-like ears and licked her lips. The day was fresh. She could taste the lingering sweetness of the morning. The dew still fresh on the grass and the sun just rising. Hitching the horse to the cart and heaving herself into the wooden seat, she began the long journey back to Immrah. Hoping to make the ride within four hours to make the midday sales.

Teh haze of a rather uninteresting dream lifted from Caird's eyes with its regular ease, the glow of his furnace welcoming him into consciousness once more. At least, it must have been an uninteresting dream, seeing as how he had forgotten it as soon as he woke up, either way, there was always work to be done. The relatively youthful halfbreed trudged upstairs to the not so often used second floor of his shop with the somewhat lacking finesse more common of his father's race, and splashed water on his face from a bowl he'd suprisingly remembered to fill the night before. He suddered slightly as the chill from the night before had crept into the water, and just been heaved onto his face, shocked him into full alertness. He smiled at the thought, as he hated needing to sleep, always having tried to stay up with his mother, who never seemed to doze at all. Either way, again, there was work to be done, and he had only a few hours until the sun was fully up and the market was buzzing once more. He bounded down the well set, but creaky staircase with the ease of a child and slipped into his boots, pulling a shirt on and giving his fledgeling goatee a pull before heading to his anvil, not taking the time to glance out through the front and see the sign over his unopened storefront that read
"Caird Farthin"
and in larger letters
"Weaponsmith"
and one of Immrah's best, he liked to think.

"And that's all I know."

Sean nodded and handed the investigator a few copper coins. After a nod and a mumbled message of gratitude, the man slipped away back into shadows out from which he had crawled. Sean, staying in the light, had no intention of following. It was a very real and very unfortunate truth that upon paying the man, his life was now in immediate danger.

They descended like buzzards awaiting a fresh kill, scavengers circling around the doomed. His payment had ensured to the less reputable of society that he had money to spare, why not then spare it on some of them? With blades that gleamed as dully as the copper coins in his purse, they approached him, mostly silent but a few unable to contain their glee.

Sean looked down at his dust-covered boots and clenched his fists, clutching the fraying strands of wrappings that still encased the better part of his hands. "It never ends," he whispered.

--

In the morning a bell rang out to signal the beginning of the markets, and Sean sat up, fully awake. Rubbing his head slightly, he noticed his wrapping had come slightly loose and paused a moment to re-wrap it, affixing it to the back of his hand with a simple butterfly connector. Hopefully that would hold it on this time, as it had nearly come off before the ruffians had been scared off the day before.

Leaning back against the wall behind him, he took a moment to reflect on the bizarre events that had taken place which has resulted in his presence in that dark alley. All beginning with a young girl scrounging for old battered junk, which she proudly restored and sold for money. She had said she was moving to the city in which Sean lived, apparently to meet up with her lover named Scar. Or, brother? Sean didn't know. That wasn't the part that really interested him anyways. What intrigued him was the way she spoke, as if some unseen force was behind her eyes. Something that drove him to learn more about her.

It wasn't uncommon for the man, he had a natural curiosity about people and would often research them or their histories. It gave him a way to pass the time, rather than sitting in his house staring at blank, spartan walls. Money can't buy happiness, and he didn't have a compelling desire to decorate with false cheeriness and material trinkets.

However this girl Echo had seemed different from the others he'd researched. It was like destiny itself gathered up in arms and followed in her wake, pursuing her haphazard journey throughout the nicer and also more dangerous parts of that town. Doors fell open for her, and though she seemed to not notice, Sean did. Perhaps it could be attributed to her charm, but that wouldn't explain why she wasn't assaulted by the same type of folk he had briefly met after hiring the investigator. They were certainly ruthless and would think nothing of selling another young girl into slavery. What was it about her that protected her?

That was what Sean wanted to know, and had sacrificed personal safety to find out. Unfortunately his proposition left somewhat of a sour taste in his mouth - the copper had been spent just for an old man to tell him her name. No mention of history, likes, dislikes, anything. Just, "She is called Echo."

But it was a start. Sean was determined to know more, and decided that later in the day he would travel back to Immrah and perhaps seek her out.

The bells chimed happily as the wheels struck against the cobblestones of the road leading into the city. Pots and pans battered against one another, things jingled in boxes and the curtains made a whooshing noise as they blew around manically in the winds. Echo giggled as she held onto the reins, picking up the speed a little with a "Yee-hah!" and bouncing up and down happily, even though her behind was rather sore with the movement.

The gates of the city were gigantic. Solid wood, no less than a hundreds trees had been felled to make the drawbridge. The moat, however, was now nothing more than a pit. Lack of rain recently meant the water had dried up from the river and fish was out of season yet again. It saddened Echo as fish and potato was what she enjoyed feasting on the most. 'Brain food', Scar would call it. 'Good grub' Echo would always reply. He was the thinker. And she was the doer. It worked well that way. She could never stay still for more than a few moments without getting bored. And she was bored waiting for the bridge to open. Tapping her foot against the cart, she rolled her eyes.

"HELLO?!" she called out, shielding her eyes from the sunlight reflecting off of the turrets. The bridge slowly came creaking down, a weary guardsman tugging at the rope. He waved her in and she trotted merrily along, across the bridge and through the main area of the city. It was already bustling with people. Women setting up their carts of fresh foods. Men laying blankets onto the floor and piling them with wares of all sorts. Echo favored the brightly colored cushions and throws. They'd make a nice accessory to her home. Well, it would if she actually had one. It was all in her mind for now, though.

Pulling her horse to a stop before an alleyway, she tied him to a post and then went to the back of her cart, fastening some ropes to keep the drapes closed. She then tugged at the line of bells to make them sound and grinned. The perfect warning system. Walking to her horse, she patted his nose once and then ran down the alley with swiftness, but not quite agility. She tripped on a stone and almost went hurtling toward the floor before catching her balance and laughing at her own misfortune.

"Scar! Scar!!!"

Sean left the neighboring city of Rejk with his destination in mind - not so much headed towards Immrah as he was headed towards Echo. It sounded funny, like chasing echoes, and he smirked at the impossibility of such an act. But his smile faded as he considered how daunting the task he had taken upon himself might be. Yet daunting could mean rewarding, or time consuming...and if there was one thing Sean had, it was lots and lots of time.

He traveled down a dusty road on a horse, allowing it to take an easy trot - there was no real rush, no need for thundering hooves. Even if he didn't catch up with her, he could make a little game out of seeing how long it took him to find her in the city. They had run into each other fairly quickly back in Rejk, and considering the locale they had met in it was believable that an equivalent search might turn up just as successful.

After a few hours of pleasant countryside the massive gates of Immrah stood before him, open but guarded to allow travelers and repel warriors. It wasn't really necessary in this day and age but you never knew when some foreign force would swoop in and declare war on all things living. Better safe than sorry. Seemed to be the motto of the city - except apparently when it came to the slums.

They were somewhat of a disgrace, but fortunately for the city the ruffians mostly stayed there, not venturing out too much. It seemed they mostly operated outside of the city and made their home here. The officials turned a blind eye to this practice, and while it did allow for a more peaceful city life, it also breeded more organized crime and brought shame on Immrah.

It was in such a slum however, that Sean ran across a friend of his who knew everything about everyone, as he often boasted. A short conversation later, his quick cohort had darted off in search of the newcomer Echo. He was an honest enough kid thankfully, given to pickpocketing sometimes, but nothing worse than that. Sean didn't feel too guilty about using his services.

Kid owed him one anyways.

Strange. The door to Scar's home was closed. Locked. Bolted. Barred. Big wooden planks were hammered haphazardly into the doorframe, knocking some of the brickwork out of the wall. Echo pulled on the planks, using her leg to aid her, pulling it with all her might. One end broke free, but the other was firmly wedged. With a frustrated yell, she punched the door with her small fist and turned away, leaning against the door with her arms folded across her face and her bottom lip pouting outward. This wasn't right. Scar's door was usually always open and she'd always be welcome to just make herself at home, even when he wasn't around. But the air felt cold, empty and lifeless.

"What in Heaven's name is going on here...?" she rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. Stepping away from the door, she picked up a stone from the floor and tossed it up to one of the windows. It shattered. Shielding her head from falling glass, she screamed and backed up against the opposite wall, looking upward. There were cobwebs hanging from the inside window frame. The room looked dark. It was obvious to her then that Scar wasn't there, but where had he gone? He wouldn't just up and leave without her. He wouldn't have been kicked out, that home was passed down through his family. A kidnapping? Sent to prison? Perhaps he really had moved on without her? Echo walked back through the alley, shaking her head and approached her horse, stroking it's mane and then resting her head against its long brown neck.

"Let's go, Thistle." she said, beginning to lead the horse around, toward the main street. It was then that she saw a young man standing at the back of her cart. "Hey. Don't touch anything! I found these things myself!"

"Whoa, whoa, sorry. I was just admiring. You fix these up yourself?" the male replying, taking a quick side step away from the cart. Echo just smiled and leant against the cart.

"Why yes, yes I did." she tucked her hair behind her pointy ears again and grinned, cocking her head to one side slightly. She wasn't used to attention. Maybe if she played her cards right, she'd be able to sell him something. She needed the money to purchase breakfast.

"They look good. They're so shiny that I guess the dirt I see must be on my face!" He replied, rubbing his cheeks in circles, making little dirt spheres on his cheeks, almost like he had a fight with a mudpack.

Echo just giggled and nodded her head. "Are you interested in buying? I have a lot more in the back!"

" In the back eh?" He winked. "Is that all you sell?" He followed his sentence by a lighthearted laugh, but Echo didn't find his comment amusing.

"If you're looking for a whore, you probably know where to go." She said firmly, turning her nose up at the boy and facing the other way, arms folded across her chest yet again.

He reached into his pocket and jingled some coins amusedly. "I was just joking, ya know," he replied offhandedly. "If this is how potential paying customers are treated..." he continued, giving a highly exaggerated and plaintive sigh.

"Nono. I didn't...I didn't mean to snap. I just...never mind, never mind. Were you looking for anything in particular? I have things from all over the continent."

"Anything from the coast? I always wanted to see the ocean but I haven't been able to go." The boy's eyes widened slightly, as Echo stepped into the back of her travelling caravan and pulled out a single seashell.

"Something like this? It's not very big, but it's pretty. I like this one, it's got shimmery insides and if you blow into it, it sounds like a horn. A very small horn, but it's still a very pretty sound..."

"It's gorgeous. How much?" he reached into his pocket and grabbed a few coins, but Echo shook her head.

"This one is on me. Just...take good care of it, okay?" She handed it to him and smiled. "I have to get to market. Maybe come visit me sometime!"

"Sure, what's your name? Where can I find you?"

"Echo." She replied. "And...I'll be around. Just listen for the bells." She smiled and pulled a cord which made the little bells jingle, then climbed into her seat. Nodding to the boy, she turned her steed and trotted down the road, the wide smile still taking pride of place on her pale white face.

---

"Mission - successful." the boy grinned, slipping the seashell into his pocket, rubbing his hands together and running toward Sean's house...

"I see," replied Sean. He fished out a couple golden coins and gave them to the kid without hesitation. "Nice shell, too. This gold can more than afford you a round trip and a place to stay if you really meant it about wanting to see the ocean. Well done, and I thank you..."

The kid grinned a toothy smile, tipped his cap and scampered off into the city. Sean looked after his and scratched the back of his neck, pondering his new information. Her name was certainly Echo, and now he knew where she possibly lived, and where she definitely worked. Problem is, where she lived...he had heard of some commotion in that part of town recently. It was hard to doubt that it connected to her in some fashion. But why?

He wasn't sure if now was the right time to go find out, because the markets got extremely busy. And the way his friend had told him that her wares looked, and with her bright attitude, it was to be expected that she would be very busy. Perhaps after they closed the markets in the evening he could find her and escort her home. Learn a bit about her. Yes, that would be perfect.

It had been hard to find a spot. A lot of the regular traders moved her along, and she was finally settled - right at the end of the line. Shaking her head, she drew back the curtains, the sunlight shimmering off of the random objects hung at the back of her cart. She stepped up and inside, moving a few things around and grabbing a large red blanket. Laying it on the floor, she put a few random items onto it and looked down at the stuff, admiring her own handiwork. It had taken her a long time to peice together some of the items. Vases that had been thrown out because of being broken had been covered in beads or material. Fruit bowls that had been dented were hammered back into their original glory and then polished until she could see her face in them. And all the while she'd sing to herself, the praises and the hymns that she'd heard in the Churchs and temples along her travels.

"He paved the way in white and green, set angels upon the silver beam, the moon bent to allow them passage through, into the hearts of me and you..." she cheerily sang, taking huge bites of a loaf of bread she'd purchased from another vender. Sitting on the back of her cart, she swayed her legs awaiting her first customer. People milled around, but none took the time to look at her items. It made her sad at first, but she figured it was early yet. Perhaps she'd have more luck a little later.

Impatience stormed about Sean's mind, gleefully knocking thoughts to the floor and cluttering up everything. It was as if his own brain were having a tantrum.

He sighed in exasperation, rubbing his face and pulled down his eyes a little, before releasing himself and resting his arms on his knees. "What's coming over me.." he wondered. "I don't even know this girl. I met her yesterday. I barely spoke to her. What the hell is going on?"

There was a tremendous sense of being swept up in something he couldn't fathom, and yet instead of rebelling for his own free will which would typically be the human way, he was allowing the flood to carry him on, helping it even. All he could imagine this meant was he had finally become tired of his station in life, living off of investments and having nothing but free time.

Whatever it was, not only did he feel powerless to stop it, but he had no intention of doing so. Whatever he had felt from Echo, wherever she was going, he felt he should accompany her. Madness.

Sleep. Yes, sleep had come. Not a single potential buyer. People looked at her and turned their noses up. They fumbled through her objects and just rested them back down upon the ground. Perhaps this city was too rich for what she had to sell them. Opening one weary eye, she looked around, watching the traders slowly close their stalls. She did the same, but instead of picking the items up tenderly like she would have, she picked up the corners of the blanket and carried the objects within it, slung over her shoulder. She tossed it into the back of the cart and yawned, drawing the curtains around and smiling a little as the bells rang. Those had to have been her best investment.

"Thistle!" Echo whistled, and the small horse came trotting to her side. Once everything was set, she followed the procession of wagons, moving slowly toward the main gate to leave the city. Tomorrow, she'd search for Scar instead of trying to sell her wares to the rude people in Immrah.