Fan Fiction ❯ Misara ❯ Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

The room at the Brookdale inn was small but comfortable. The two beds were still neatly made and the rugs were lightly scented with lavender. Amara sat on the edge of the bed closest to the bathroom her hands fidgeted as she waited for Misara to get done with her bath. I should have never stopped. I should have just picked up my things and went home. But no I had to mess things up. Now he will kill her! Why isn't she worried? How can she just sit around when he's after her? Amara stood and walked slowly to the bathroom door. “ Misara??” she knocked lightly on the door.

 

“Yes?” Misara sat up suddenly in the tub, splashing water onto the floor. “What is it?”

 

Taking a deep breath Amara attempted to steady her voice. “Misara I think you should leave. If you go now he won't be able to find you and..”

 

“That's crazy. Leave and let you take the blame. What kind of person do you think I am?”

 

“I um. Its not that I just don't want you getting in trouble because of me.” Amara gazed at the floor and rubbed her hands nervously.

 

“ I'm not leaving. Now tomorrow I'm going back alone to deal with this.”

 

“Alone! But he'll have you killed!”

 

“It won't be the first time someone wanted me dead Amara. Look just go downstairs and order us something to eat I'll be down in a minute.”

 

“But...”

 

“Go!”

 

“Yes Ma'am.” Amara bowed and rushed to go downstairs.

 

“ Uh!” Misara slouched in the tub. Why is she so timid? I guess growing up in a house like that will do that to a person. I have got to get her to open up. I'm afraid her father won't be around much longer if I have anything to do about it. She needs to learn how to speak up for herself. Misara slowly got out of the tub and started to dry herself off. And another thing, how did that guy survive that blast? It wasn't a huge explosion but still he only got a few scratches. She started to pull on her clothes as she pondered this question. I suppose I really do want to go through with this. She will become my responsibility. Most seventeen-year-old girls don't have to deal with this so why am I doing this? Grabbing a brush she turned to the mirror. Dark eyes under naturally arched brows stared back as she pondered the question. Being someone who thinks too much her eyes were always serious. Given a problem to sort out didn't help brighten her disposition. She brushed black hair into a ponytail. The shape of her face and full mouth were her mothers, the nose her fathers. A frown tugged at her mouth making her look sullen as she slipped on travel stained boots. She didn't look like a fighter. She came this far looking for answers not to fight so she figured that it was better to not draw attention. She had some muscle from her training and as she matured she realized that it was silly to envy those who had them. Her body wasn't made for heavy muscle she wouldn't look intimidating in them anyway. Callused hands were all that she had to show for her training. She used lotions and creams to prevent scars, a vanity that she picked up from her mother. She was strong enough for a woman but relied more on her speed than anything else. Fully clothed she made her way down the stairs.

 

***

 

Amara was seated at a table talking to solid middle-aged woman with red hair severely pinned up but still trying to get free.

 

She needs me. I can't just turn my back on her she has no one else but her crackpot father. Misara walked to the table and sat down.

 

“Thank you Mrs. Angie.”

 

“Your welcome Amara. Whatever I can do to help. Well hello there,” Angie turned her attention to Misara. “So you're the one all the fuss is about.”

 

“Ma'am?

 

“They're all out looking for you. They say that you're a witch and that you just barged into Mr. Broden's study and started blowing things up

 

Misara laughed loudly. “So that's what they're telling everyone.”

 

“Yep. You're a wanted criminal.”

 

“If that's the case then why are you allowing us to stay here?”

 

“Broden's an old windbag and money is money. Speaking of such,” Angie held out her hand expectantly.

 

“Oh. Yes of course,” Misara pulled out her wallet and paid for the meal counting the money into the woman's hand.

 

“Dinner will be done in a second,” She recounted the money in her hand and walked to the kitchen.

 

“Mrs. Angie is one of the few people in this town to talk openly about my Da,” Amara stared at the floor as she talked.

 

“Oh,” Misara raised her eyebrow “If more where like her he wouldn't get away with so much.”

 

They sat in silence for ten minutes until a rather tall but meek looking man came to the table with food and drink. He bowed and left as quietly and quickly as he had come.

 

“That's Sarge. The innkeeper and Angie's Husband.”

 

“Him?” That beanpole? Misara couldn't contain her surprise. “There's no way Amara. She.. She'd crush him he's so little.”

 

Amara chuckled “Happily married for 20 years.”

 

“Wow….. You know that's the first time you smiled since everything happened.”

 

“Um I'm sorry for being such trouble.”

 

“Your no trouble at all. Oh yeah Grandpa said hi.”

 

 

“Oh really I'm happy he wasn't feeling well.”

 

“Is he really your grandfather?”

 

“No it's just an old nickname. He might as well be though. He's like family to me.”

 

“How old are you?” Misara asked as she picked up her fork.

 

“Fifteen”

 

“You ever been away from home?” She's pretty and despite that she has no confidence. Misara thought as she noted the slump in Amara's shoulders and how she averted her eyes. I'm sure her father's to blame for that.

 

“No. But you must have traveled to many places.”

 

“I've been around.”

 

“Your from Chitral right?”

 

Misara smiled “How'd you guess?”

 

“I'm sorry I know it's obvious. It's just that you speak Terra so well.” Amara answered recognizing the language. It was an older language mostly used by merchants and people who travel. All schools taught it, it was the one thing every continent had in common. “But how come when you speak. You have a bit of a accent like you're from Padrah.”

 

“Oh no. I'm no easterner. I was born in Chitral. But you're not the first person that has told me that. Its actually why I've started traveling.”

 

“You're hoping to find some relatives?” Amara leaned forward becoming interested in the conversation. No being made to talk about herself, she held her head higher.

 

“Yeah and my family isn't the only one there were two others. One family looked like they were from Galla and the other like they were from Sora.” Misara answered listing the names of the other continents. “We all have an eastern accent although it has been watered down throughout the years. Even when I speak in my native tongue I have an accent. We used to live in Padrah but for some reason we were sold in to slavery. Eat your foods getting cold,”

 

“Oh right.” Amara began to slowly eat her food talking between bites. “Is there still slavery in Chitral?”

 

“No” Misara shook her head. “This was years ago. It happened to my ancestors. You see they were from Chitral but for some reason migrated to Padrah. My family was friends with the others while they were in Padrah. But I guess something bad happened. Well that's all my family will tell me anyway”

 

“Didn't there used to be a lot of wars in Chitral?”

 

“Yeah. Different tribes used to fight all the time and since it was already a custom to take the defeated as captives; I guess they didn't think twice when we were sold to them. Things are much calmer now it's amazing what a few hundred years will do for a culture. But anyway after the wars stopped our families have gotten back together and have been friends ever since. They even opened their own Dojo.”

 

“Dojo?”

 

“Oh it's a school where they teach you to defend yourself. It's been running for at least a hundred years. Our families run it together and have been teaching others. It's become a bit of a legend in Chitral. People from different countries come to our dojo to learn,” Misara said proudly “The ones in Padrah don't like to let foreigners in. We managed to remember the fighting styles they learned in Padrah. Something really bad must have happened. I don't think that they fought against who sold them even though they know how to fight. But you can't get my father to talk about what he knows openly. And even his parents withheld information about what really happened to him.”

 

“Did you learn at the dojo?”

 

“Yeah. I used to enter junior tournaments. That's when I was first able to go to Padrah. Everyone thought that it was strange that we knew their language. We were the only people there from other countries.”

 

“Did you win?”

 

“Sometimes. It took a while for the other schools to take us seriously.”

 

“Oh you must be a great warrior then, to be able to hold your own against them. I hear that they can walk on walls.”

 

“Some can. And I'm good enough. I wouldn't call my self a warrior though,” Misara pushed her empty plate away. “Well I'm done. Lets get some sleep.”