TRASH - Act 1: The Spinner

As he'd expected, his first guess was right on the nose; a flat clearing of charcoaled ruins around the once-standing village. Sariel didn't take the route of sorrow he'd anticipated though, folding her arms as Maddison tried to give her a consoling pat on the shoulder. "You know, they probably shouldn't have chased me with all those torches, look what happened!" She motioned to the mess, poking a pile of charcoal with her foot so it crumbled into dust. "Smells like that one time I lit my hair on fire too, winter's in a season and a half, we're all gonna starve now!"

"I'm sorry milady... but I don't think your fellow villagers did this," Maddison replied, waiting for her to figure it out any second now, but she was looking at him like he was the idiot.

"Most logical sir, they lit about a dozen torches and ran with em. If there's one thing ya don't run with it's torches... and shears." She pulled her sleeve down to show him a faint scar running down her arm. "Got my lesson the hard way. Shears are not to be trusted, sir."

Maddison sighed. She was rambling now, perhaps she was in shock from the entire incident. She had told him she'd seen the hero carving up one of the villagers. Maddison nodded, gently sitting her on a scorched stump of wood. "You just sit there and have some water, I'll see what caused this."

"Some idiot probly dropped a torch sir, or didn't put it out right."

"Yes, you're probably right." He grabbed his waterskin and handed it to her. "Just stay right there while I confirm it, and have some water to calm down."

"Never been calmer sir." She nodded sharply, keeping steady eye contact with him every time he glanced over his shoulder.

Maddison looked around the charred ruins, coughing as the wind blasted him with the pungent stench. He'd already confirmed it with the smell alone, but he wanted to make sure no one was left alive; they sometimes did that with the children. "Anybody here?" He whispered, his eyes darting around the silver dust and hallowed walls. He hadn't heard any sort of movement other than his own, and pressed onwards to the center of the village. "I'm not a soldier, I won't hurt you." He muttered, looking around again as he quietly crept along. "Hello?"

Any soldiers that had been there were long gone, he could barely make out the footprints in the mess, even leading up to the central structure that he assumed to be a sort of meeting hall. It was big enough for his assumption, and the wind was blowing in the right direction. Not to mention, the insatiable inferno had originated from within its crumbling walls. It had to be it.

He caved in the door with a swift kick, waving the black dust out of his face and drawing back with a retch as the smell intensified ten-fold. After he'd stuck his head out for some fresher air and tied a length of cloth around his nose, he turned back to look inside, scouring the twisted black figures piled onto one another without a single hint of surprise. A neat pile of deformed and charred black chunks rested next to the mass - most of them probably got a merciful death.

He continued to search, something important was missing from the tale. They always left an insignia of sorts to honour the fallen hero, taking the rest of the body back with them. But he saw nothing in the charcoal expanse, not even a helmet.

Maddison stopped, a sinister idea gripping his heart as he quickly left the building, looking around frantically for Sariel, but not daring to utter a word. Could she actually be a witch? Was this a trap? He gripped his sword, slowly walking back to the stump of wood he'd left her at, and going numb with terror at the empty space. "Sariel?" He whispered, slowly drawing his sword. "Sariel are you here?"

There was a loud crunch that nearly stopped his heart as he whipped around to a small burnt frame of a hut, followed by an excited cry as Sariel jumped out holding a metal box over her head. "Found it sir! Dun worry didn't lose your pillow or nothin', it's sittin' behind the stump of wood there." She dropped the box at his feet with a relieved sigh, wiping her bandaged forehead. "Here's my collection of good old shinies, take what you want for helping me out so good."

Maddison grabbed his waterskin that was resting beside the trunk, and tied it to his belt, crouching down with Sariel to watch her open the chest. He kept his fingertips on the hilt of his blade, ready at any moment to counter a surprise attack.

She tore the lid off with a scrape, bursting with excitement. But the opposite could only be said for Maddison as he frowned at the pile of rusted metal and sparkly granite. He relaxed again, side-eyeing Sariel. "You know that's a bunch of crap, right?"

"Crap? Oh no." She waved her finger like she knew better, grabbing the head of a hoe that was more rust than steel. "Anything this heavy and hard has gotta be worth something. Wanna know which one's my favourite?"

Maddison narrowed his eyes, placing his blade beside him in case she tried anything extra funny. "I didn't see the hero you were talking about."

"Probly buried him by now. You see anybody else sir?" Sariel replied, giving him a warm smile. "Oh! His sword! Maybe it's still lying about where they chased me!"

"Doubtful."

"Well, it doesn't hurt to check, looked real pricey too. I'm sure he won't mind if you take it, he's dead and all." She stopped as she rose to her feet, looking down at the chest with an almost sad frown. "But just in case it ain't there I should really pay you with something."

Maddison glanced at the chest full of garbage. "Really milady, I won't charge you this time. Got anywhere else to go other than here? There's a town about half a day away, I'll have to hit it to return my horse."

"Hit it? Like, punch it?" Sariel looked down at the chest, overwhelmed with guilt. "I really should pay you... here, you might like..." She crouched down and fished through the container, yanking out a small golden threaded necklace. "This!"

"Where did..." Maddison carefully grabbed the golden threaded necklace. There was a blue tear-shaped gem fixed as a pendant, flawlessly cut to glimmer like a trickling river. It had a strange liveliness to it that brought a comfort one could easily get lost in if they were to stare too long. He ripped his gaze away and held it back out to Sariel. "I can't take this, that's far too much..."

"Oh, don't you worry, if ya like it, take it. Had it since I was a fresh babe. It don't do nothing much."

Maddison shook his head. "I can't take this."

"Well alright." She stuffed it in her pocket, looking around the village with a squint. "Hope that Corian hero's sword is still lyin' out where I dropped it. Come on."

"Like I said, I don't think it'll be there."

"Well, I'll go check by myself then. Might find some of the other villagers too if they're collecting stuff to rebuild this mess." She trudged away, Maddison quickly pursuing her to stave her from walking into the meeting hall for an unpleasant surprise. He still wasn't sure if she was a witch or not, and kept his senses alert. But if she wasn't, and what he was experiencing was the real deal, he didn't want her to see something like that. She'd be easy enough to coax into staying at the nearby town for the rest of her days, most of the local taverns would jump for an extra hand.

They only walked for a couple seconds when Sariel cautiously glanced over her shoulder at him, darting her gaze away and lightening her step. She took it a step at a time, glancing over her shoulder again and quickly shuffling a few meters. Maddison sighed and followed her, producing a loud "Aha!" As she whipped around to face him. "You're not bein' very sneaky for trying to follow me, sir."

"I'm not sneaking, I'm just following you." Maddison stared at her blankly as she grabbed her hips with a haughty glare.

"Said you weren't coming now here you are. Yer head alright there Mr. Maddison?"

"It's better than yours..." He muttered, continuing his pursuit of her as she stopped just outside of the village to look around.

"Now I swear..." She grabbed her chin, turning in a circle twice to scan her surroundings. "Boy this looks real different all burnt up, I think it was..." She counted her fingers for reasons that escaped Maddison, finally pointing northwards. "Rivers that way, right?"

Maddison pointed south.

"Oh! Perfect, that way then..." She followed the direction he'd pointed, stopping at the river and looking up and down its flowing stream. "Sorry sir... it was pretty dark when I went out and found- Oh!" She pointed at a bush, smiling like a child offered candy. "I know that bush sir! Recognise it like family! It's this way!" She bolted off alongside the stream, stopping dead in the center of a small cleared out area and pointing at the ground. "Right here, fell down and died."

Maddison scoured the small space, pulling his gloves off to pinch a patch of dark stained dirt and rub it between his fingers. He sniffed his hand, catching the faint scent of iron. At least she was right about something being injured here. "I don't see a sword mi'lady."

"Yeah, me neither." She breathed in a load of fresh air and sighed, walking over to a bush like she was retracing a scene and sitting in it.

"What are you doing?"

"I fell here, sir." She lied down, sticking her head through some leaves and poking it out the other end to squint at the ground. "Handed him his sword back... but he dropped it when I stabbed him and it..." She shot to her feet. "Sir I know where it is."

"Yeah? Where?" Maddison sighed, his patience wearing out as she pointed back to the village.

"They'd have taken him, and everythin' he had, to the center building where we like to meet up. That's where we give the dead some words before buryin' em."

Maddison stopped her before she took off again, taking back a soothing voice. "Look mi'lady, I don't think we should go there... you'd regret it."

"Swords that way sir, gotta pay you with something."

"Forget about the sword, it's not here. I'm going to take you to the closest town and you can stay there until someone you know comes to pick you up, how about that?"

"Well, then you're gonna have to take this as payment sir." She shoved her hand in her pocket, trying to pull it out a couple of times in confusion as Maddison stopped her.

"You don't have to pay me, okay?" He slowly nodded, waiting for Sariel to mime his actions. "Good, now come-"

"Medila I'm going to the closest village okay?!" Sariel hollered, looking around the burnt ruins as her echo died into the forest. "Promise I'll bring you back a husband this ti-"

Maddison stifled her calls with his hand, looking around in panic as she still tried to yell. "Be quiet! There could still be scouts you idiot!"

She stopped, waiting for him to remove his hand as she shot his gloves a glare, flicking her emerald eyes between his cautious stare and worn gloves. "You mind sir? Those taste like burnt bristleback muck got hardened onto a rusty old pitchfork and you forced me to lick em."

He pulled his gloves off. "You need to be quieter. Please."

"How's Medila supposed to hear me then?"

"She can't anyways."

Sariel folded her arms, suddenly lacking any and all trust in Maddison as she slowly looked him up and down a couple of times. "Think I'll get you yer sword and we can part ways from there sir."

"The sword isn't here."

Sariel silently turned away, walking back to the village and ripping off Maddison's hand with a surprisingly strong arm when he moved to stop her. "We dun bury people with clothes sir." She trudged past the center of the village, stopping at the blackened outline of a tool shed and grabbing a large black chest. With barely any effort she hoisted it up and dropped it in front of Maddison. "Real waste it is."

She cracked the lid open, grabbed a glistening shirt of chain mail lined with gold and tossed it out. "That's his..." she grabbed a helmet. "This too I think. All the real shiny stuff was his... ahah!" She slid a sheathed broadsword out, holding it up for Maddison to grab. "Here it is."

Maddison stared at the fancily embellished sword, slowly grabbing it and popping the hilt up to check the keen blade. Almost brand new. "What was this hero's name?"

"Corian."

Something was seriously off. The armour didn't flaunt the usual apprentice quality, the free stuff the king would throw at anyone that qualified. Cheap and usually used leather and steel, with one or two patches of chain mail to cut the casualties. This one had class, serious coin to it. Had she killed a noble?

"Put that back in the chest, we're leaving," Maddison ordered, handing her the sword and grabbing the chain mail and helmet to toss in. "I'm not being seen with that stuff."

"I think it'd make you look mighty classy sir, you sure you don't wanna sell it or something?" She closed the lid, looking around as if something was missing. "Don't see his shirt and pants in here... or his shiny old necklace."

"We're leaving." He grabbed her wrist, yanking her to her feet and ushering her into the trees. The king's heroes weren't the type to grab and go without even checking around for such a pricy set of equipment, which likely meant that whoever had come into the village didn't know a hero had fallen. Bandits, thugs, demons, it could have been anything. But worst of all it meant the squadron hadn't found their fallen hero yet, and if they didn't book it at least two hours out of their sights they had the chance of being run down by an entourage of aerial beasts.

And Maddison was rarely in the mood for such inconveniences.