The Ground Dweller

“Come out and face me, you cowards! Hiding in the shadows’ all you overstuffed pigs can do,” he spat, palpable hatred radiating from his whole body. “But I’ll slit this lamb’s throat if you don’t come to listen!”

What followed was a brief moment of silence when Stella thought the two men might not reveal themselves at all. It was rather awkward.

In fact, she would’ve preferred it that way. Maybe he’d just let her go. The man didn’t really give her the impression of a cold blooded killer. It didn’t even seem like he was paying her much attention…

She suddenly realised he was actually scared. She could hear his teeth clattering, and his breathing was laboured, although he was trying to conceal it.

What to do?

There was no time for any planning, as the two silhouettes she recognised from before stepped onto the moonlit path. Even though it was still too dim to notice any distinguishable features, it was quite clear they were well-off. Their clothes were simply too garish for the manure filled Plateau Four.

This really has nothing to do with me… With a knife to her throat, her situation was precarious to say the least. However, the three new faces were clearly at the centre of the explosion incident. So, shaking from the nerves, but overflowing with curiosity, she forced her mouth shut.

“Tsk, tsk…to think I wasted two gold tokens to heal you… And this how you repay me…” The shorter one said in a monotone voice Stella found hard to read.

“First the inn, now a child… How barbaric! Their lot…” The other one drawled, covering his mouth in disgust. It wasn’t visible, but she was sure there was a nasty grin behind it.

People with these kinds of hobbies were definitely not tired enough.

“SHUT UP! YOU VILE…” Bellowed the ground dweller, his shudder carrying on to her too. “You said I could go back to see my family, but you kept me here! For a whole year, you retched liars!”

At that, Stella felt her hairs standing up, and she was suddenly overcome with a wave of nausea. She had not lied to this man, never seen any of these people before for that matter. And yet, she couldn’t help but feel responsible for some reason.

“Now, now, Mr. Uh—Shiel…” A rustling, and the short one retrieved a piece of paper from the pocket of his bright blue jacket. “Do I need to remind you how contracts work? You’re probably not used to laws, but… You agreed to stay in my service until you repay the two gold tokens I invested in you, and then some. It’s all right here.” He made his point by slapping the document a couple of times.

“Yes, well, you know how simple-minded they are, Runheart…”

“Don’t give me that!” The man they called Shiel removed the blade from Stella’s throat and pointed it in their direction. She could’ve sworn it was glowing faintly. “I know very well what that damned paper of yours says! I was promised I could—my wife…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to.

“Yes, the plague, very sad, very sad…“ Callously interrupted the Runheart fellow, still fussing over his papers— as if he wasn’t talking about the very thing that’d been wrecking the lives of the ground dwellers for decades.

“However you clearly won’t or can’t understand my perspective, and that’s none of my concern.” The lack of emotion behind his words was making Stella uncomfortable. She pictured him saying happy birthday to a child, but quickly shook away the thought. “We will proceed with your arrest for what you did tonight, and…”

Runheart carried on rumbling about the right procedures, but Shiel did not say anything. Stella wasn’t sure he was listening at all. She wanted to turn to look at his face but decided against it.

She saw him gripping the intricate blade tighter, the skin white around his knuckles. The yellow glow was much more defined now, and Stella contemplated the mystery that was ground dweller magic.

He was getting bolder now, inching closer, arm around Stella’s neck.

“Ngh…” It was getting hard to breathe, but she let him drag her alongside him.

“Don’t come any closer, beast!” The taller one reacted first, cutting Runheart off. He grabbed something from behind his back, and Stella’s ears immediately perked up at the sound. The sweet, sweet clink of scraping metal. The most beautiful sound in the world according to Stella. Magic tokens. A bagful of them.

What could he need that much magic for? She was definitely not envious, no. But between the man holding her hostage, and the man boasting a small fortune in magic tokens, she knew whose head she’d bite off if she could.

“Magic!” Cried the dweller, only then realising what was happening.

“Impact Five!” Wellstone tossed a Silver coin in the air, summoning the magic from within.

“Get down!” The token was glowing and buzzing in the air, so Stella yelled and pushed into Shiel’s chest with all her might. He let out a grunt, but let himself fall to the ground, dragging her with him.

The token flew towards them, but somehow missed them by quite a lot, ending up bouncing off a few trees either side of the path. Once it was drained of all its magic, it fell limply somewhere in the grass. Stella followed it with disheartened eyes.

A moment later, the trees caught in the failed magic relinquished all of their leaves into large piles at their roots. Everyone was staring in disbelief at the pathetic naked branches.

“Must you embarrass yourself like that every time?” Chided Runheart, neither angry, nor flustered. And yet the other man took a step back, shrinking into himself almost.

She couldn’t believe this. A simple command and it backfired so miserably. Someone ought to take responsibility for handing precious magical resources to an incompetent like that man. But Stella knew that wouldn’t happen as long as money had a say in it.

Turn those over to someone who can actually use them, and pick up a shovel, you bungling buffoon! She didn’t get to shout that out, as Shiel hauled her upright once again. He did not do anything though, no running away, no fighting back…she really hoped he’d use his magic.

“What are you doing?” She whispered, making an effort to not move her lips too much.

He jumped, almost like he’d forgotten there was a living thing in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he mustered in a shaky voice, “I’m so sorry.” But he did not clarify. The ground dweller’s reluctance to use their magic in front of humans worried Stella. How was he planning to get himself out of that situation?

A snap of fingers echoed through the night.

“I knew it would come to this.” Said Runheart, eyes unfocused. “Get him. Dispose of the witness.” She was no fool to think they’d save her with grand fanfare, but ordering her death made no sense.

About a dozen of figures emerged from the darkness, armed with shiny Silver and Gold tokens between their fingers. Once they stepped under the moon rays Stella immediately recognised the maroon uniforms of Plateau Two Safety Officers.

“Ohoo, ever so shrewd, I see!” The fear was wiped off Wellstone’s face and he was back to being obnoxious.

Shiel finally made up his mind to make a break for it, pulling her with him, this time holding her by her forearm. He was making it really hard to tell who the real villain was.

They didn’t make it far down the dirt path, as the uniforms marched orderly, closing a circle around them.

“What is all this?!” Heaved Shiel, visibly shaken. “No, you don’t understand! I didn’t hurt anyone!”

“It’s alright, Mr. Shiel,” offered Runheart as his own understanding of ‘reassurance’. “I’m sure this will serve your fellow workers well.

“You see, us benefactors have got wind of some troublesome matters coming from your end. For our peace of mind, and yours too, of course, we’re…”

“We’re gonna nip it in the bud!” Offered the other man, like a child on a playground.

“Yes, I was gonna say, Wellstone.” He said through his teeth. Another quick snap and he ordered, “Proceed.”

“Yes, Sir!” Came a chorus of voices, followed by tokens being flipped through the air.

“The boy! The boy’s innocent!” Cried out the dweller in desperation, pushing her ahead of him. Stella couldn’t see his face, but she imagined he was white as a sheet. She wasn’t faring much better, a terrible idea blooming in her head.

“I’m sure his death will make our point land even better!” Wellstone’s disturbing character was coming through clearly now. He was puffing up his chest, laughing and taking wide strides toward them (still glancing at the officers as if he were afraid they’d vanish).

“He will die because of you!” He pointed a hand at Shiel, another token between his fingers, and Stella could see him much clearer now. As she’d suspected, his hair was a darker shade of blonde than her own, and age lines contoured a mean grin she prayed she’d never see in a mirror.

“Papaaa! Is that you?!” She commenced a wave of lamentations aimed at Wellstone, wrapped in the most irksome voice she could muster. And once she broke the dam keeping the flood of lies at bay, there was no stopping it.

“Oh, how I’ve missed your kind face, Papa!”