I can't believe I'm doing this.
Pale eyes regarded Kongol from across the flames, warning and wary. It was a perfectly good, threatening glare, spoiled by the fact the she was gnawing violently on a piece of jerky.
Can't believe I've been sitting here for who-knows-how-long with him.
The two of them had combined their meager supplies and together, had managed to start a small campfire. Now they rested-sheltered, if not comfortable-in one of the many little caves that pitted the walls of the glacier.
The warrior she'd found standing on Father's grave needed a guide, and though Miranda's instincts had screamed at her to race straight back to Deningrad, things hadn't worked out that way. Her yearly visit to visit her father's resting place had been completely spoiled by the presence of the ugly man that called himself Kongol.
Despite all of that, all it had taken for her to agree with his request was one short phrase.
'Have money.'
And, after all, she would do anything for money, wouldn't she? Money meant survival, and survival was what mattered most. Her upper lip curled in disgust. She knew what might happen to her, a young woman alone with a very strange, very strong man, out in a place like this. If something happened, and she screamed, no one would be able to help her.
But he was a man with a fat purse of gold hanging at his side. Anyway, how naïve would she have to be, to think that if someone else were on the Glacier, that they would even care if she needed help?
Miranda had found herself homeless on the streets of Deningrad months ago; back when it had first happened; she had been soft and stupid. Now that she knew how the world really worked, there was no way she could be so blind to reality. The 'reality' of life was that it was easier for people to turn their heads to one side and pretend others weren't suffering. Ignorance allowed their bright, happy little worlds to remain bright and happy.
She continued chewing on the tough, dried meat, not looking away from the huge man sitting in front of her. Her other hand was wrapped tightly around the worn hilt of an old knife, of the variety typically found in kitchens. Some cook in a tavern had used it for peeling vegetables before she'd stolen it. One gloved thumb ran up and down the old blade, and she made no motion to hide the weapon, wanting to be certain he read her message loud and clear: 'Don't you try anything.'
"I want some more jerky," she mumbled around a mouthful of food, not breaking their mutual gazes, " please." Better not piss him off unless I can help it, right?
The Giganto didn't move for long moments, but finally reached into his pack and withdrew a handful of the jerked beef, tossing it awkwardly at her. It was almost amusing to see her drop her knife and fumble to catch the food, which she scooped up greedily into her lap.
"Thanks," she muttered, surveying the small mass of rations she'd 'gathered'. Her knife gleamed idly in the snow beside her knee, and the girl tensed, her small hand darting out to seize the weapon by its hilt. 'Sky Tower', huh? Can't say I've ever heard Flanvel called that before.
He called things by different names than she did, and to top it off, when he did speak, he was almost impossible to understand. Not only was he a complete stranger, but there was no way in Mayfil that this, this weirdo she'd found standing on top of her father's grave was Human. Miranda hadn't traveled all that much in her thirteen years-- she hadn't seen too many of the supernatural creatures that supposedly littered the land--but she wasn't naïve enough to think her 'employer' just happened to be very, very husky.
The one called 'Kongol' replied with a stilted, "need eat. So can walk."
His accent was thick, and his voice strange; so deep and raspy that it caused the hairs on her arms to stand on end at the sheer oddness of it. The first time she'd heard him say something, she'd actually cringed at the way he sounded. Now, she wasn't really the type to cringe, but considering that he'd been shaking his axe at her at the time and shouting Soa-knew-what in some strange language, it wasn't surprising she'd been intimidated.
How the hell could he carry an axe that size, anyway? She took in the sight of his obscenely broad shoulders and muscular limbs and shook her head. All right. Stupid thing to wonder. A particularly hard chunk of jerky was spit out the corner of her mouth and into the snow. But what is he, anyway?
Kongol frowned disapprovingly at her display of wastefulness, taking in the way her cheekbones jutted out just a bit too sharply, and noting that she was probably far thinner under the frayed layers of clothing than she appeared. Judging by the look of her, she didn't have room to disdain even the worst of the food he'd offered. It had been a short journey he'd planned on taking, and he'd his rations sparingly enough, at least by Giganto standards. She ate most of it, too, he reflected moodily. Supplies were running low, and he'd have to hunt if he were to have enough for the return journey
If his current situation had been any less absurd, he would've found it funny. Mere hours ago, he'd been lost and expecting-- I was not going to die-to freeze out in the middle of the Glacier. Then, he'd found a guide in the form of a teenaged Human whose father's tomb Kongol had quite literally walked upon, and now he was sitting there, watching her eat his food and believing idiotic claims that she knew where 'Flanvel' was-
He needed a good, stiff drink right about now.
"One hundred gold, right? You'd better not be lying to me-"
"Giganto don't lie."
The girl's lips formed a round 'O' of surprise before she promptly closed her mouth, wiping the shock from her face. He could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she looked down; her overly long bangs shielding her expression.
When his mind wasn't clouded by drink, Father had liked to talk to Miranda about things that were going on in the world. She'd grown up hearing about wars, deaths, and events that little girls didn't really understand, but she'd been happy enough to be treated like a grown-up that she hadn't minded. Miranda had been practically a baby when the Gigantos had been wiped out, and she hadn't paid much heed to the news; after all, what happened to the Gigantos had little effect on her.
When she'd gotten older, though, she'd started to actually listen and pay attention to what she was told; to pay attention to her parents' arguing, and her Father's love of drink-not only that, but to listen to what he told her.
"Those who have seen him run through battlefields with this axe held up high have called him the "Devil God"."
The last 'Giganto' was an urban legend, a myth used to frighten small children throughout the country. The elders liked to tell tales about the towering warrior; the Devil God carried children away to his dungeon under the ground, then killed them and made clothing from their skin
"If you're not a good little girl, Miranda, the Devil God will come to get you."
"Ceia! You're scaring her!"
I don't know why I didn't figure it out sooner. Kongol was a Giganto. This man she was sitting next to so casually had called himself a Giganto, and there was no way he would lie about such a thing. He just had to be the last of them-the Devil God.
Oh, dear Soa, save me, she thought for one brief, absurd moment. The jerky was suddenly terribly unappetizing to her, and she stopped chewing on it. I'm going to die and-
Miranda bit her lip, inhaling a deep draught of bitter cold air as she fought to calm herself. The half-smile she flashed at him was more like a grimace that twisted her face. No. Don't be stupid, she cautioned herself, "I knew you were a Giganto," she told him, far too thinly for him to believe her, "so maybe you should quit acting like you just revealed some big secret."
Kongol rolled his eyes at her. Soa help the man, he actually rolled them as he nudged at a smoldering spark with his toe, effectively squelching the tiny bit of light.
He hadn't made any moves towards her. Yet. Really, he barely even looked at her, and when he did, it was with a distant kind of condescension. Like she was a kid, an annoying younger sibling tagging along with him.
That realization was enough to snap her out of her fit of near-panic. He hasn't done anything yet. Not like others did so often. Ten gold, a few degrading moments in an alley, and she had enough gold to pay for another meal. The eyes of those men always followed her, lingering upon her body as if she were something dirty and fascinating all at once. Kongol practically ignored her, much less showed any signs of interest. You're a grown woman, now stop acting like a baby and get this over with!
She would watch this 'Devil God', and she'd be damned careful around him, no matter what her instincts told her. Letting down her guard would be inviting him to murder her and leave her body for the crows. If she did become careless enough to let the Giganto get that close, then she deserved whatever happened to her.
It was like Moll said, sometimes, 'You keep sharp wits about you, and a knife that's even sharper.'
Watch, and be ready to run if you have to.
Miranda squinted against the glaring brightness of ice and snow, extending one small hand to gesture at the steep incline that led down into the open depths of Kashua Glacier. "Flanvel's down there," she said without preamble, "I think." That was what her father had told her on their occasional trip down here. He'd had Water affinity, and so he'd loved Kashua. The two of them were always taking trips to the area before the Accident had crippled him. "Father never let me go explore that far before, but he told me he'd seen it."
Golden eyes followed the path of her hand, taking in the steep path, and the broken trail of icy 'stepping stones' that would lead them to it. He pinched the bridge of his nose between one gloved thumb and forefinger and sighed to himself.
The cracked, broken ice was packed closely enough together that it formed yet another road amongst dozens; would be unlikely it would be all too easy to slip, or take a wrong step and plummet a good hundred feet below
Things were going to get tricky from here on out.
A small, obnoxious little voice in the back of his mind warned him that the girl could be lying to him. She would take his money and then give him a good shove off the 'rocks'; she really had no idea where she was going and was trying to seem more worldly than she really was; whatever.
If that's the case, I'll crush her skull with my bare hands, he thought grimly, and allowed his hand to fall back to his side. He meant every word of it.
"Why do you want to see some 'Sky Tower' this badly?" More importantly, why couldn't she make herself stop babbling? If he doesn't like it, he can fuck off.
Kongol didn't respond, placing one gigantic foot on the surface of their 'road'; gingerly leaning his weight on it, testing its strength, the warrior began to speak haltingly. "Holy place," he explained quietly, "Great battle. There. Tower."
Not only big, but stupid. Miranda sniffed at him with the kind of disdain only thirteen year-olds could muster. "You go first. You're practically standing on it anyway."
There was room enough for one person to cross over on the way to the cavern, but the two of them would be hard-pressed to navigate the slick area without one of them knocking the other over the edge. It would be fine if Kongol followed behind Miranda, or vice versa, but
***-- his mother's blood was so bright that it almost hurt to look at it--***
Don't ever trust a Human.
***--'Let's go down here where things are more private, dearie. It's nice and dark--'***
I don't care how much money he has, I'm not that stupid.
"Girl first."
"No," she said forcefully, shaking her head. His jaw clenched and he growled, a low, threatening sound that made her flinch even as anger coiled tightly in the pit of her stomach. Gray-blue eyes flashed defiantly at him. "I won't go, and there's no way you can make me unless you're going to-- Soa!"
One minute she'd been arguing with him, the next, frozen ground was flying towards her face. She landed on the pathway with a hard jolt, pain wicking up from her palms and to her elbows where she'd tried to catch herself.
Miranda lay facedown, shocked and unmoving with her nose smashed into the fine sheet of snow that covered everything around them. You bastard, she thought, pushing herself onto her knees with a soft hiss of pain.
Mother once told her that when she was angry, when she closed her eyes she would see the color red. 'Rose red, blood red.' The young prostitute knew that was the truth, and as she looked over her shoulder at the Giganto standing behind her, it was all she could do not to rush at him and try to hurt him somehow. She wanted to scratch at his face and claw his eyes out.
All she could do was swallow down the anger that literally made her body shake. That was all she was ever able to do, for anger was a luxury the world didn't allow her. Anger didn't help one deal with men pushing up their skirts and groping at them in dank, dark alleys, doing who-knew-what for a mere ten gold. She needed to accept and cope, not fight back.
"Fine," she grit out when she trusted herself to speak. "I'll go first."
His eyes were so disdainful of her. God, she hated it when people looked at her like that.
Her threadbare layers of clothing rustled about her as she carefully began to make her way towards the cave entrance, cold wind whipping her ragged blonde hair this way and that.
His footsteps were so heavy that they almost shook the ground beneath them, and she wondered that the broken ice was able to support him at all. I hope it shatters beneath you, Devil God. You know, if it does, I'll make sure to have a great time dancing on your grave.
But if he died, he wouldn't pay her the money he'd promised. One hundred gold was a lot of money when you had nothing but the clothes on your back.
"You didn't have to push me, you know." Asshole.
"Just walk."
"You didn't have to do that," she snapped again, "you just wanted to."
His stony silence was all the affirmation she needed. Her lips quirked up slightly in a smile that was far too knowledgeable for her years. Is that how Gigantos treat women, Devil God, or did you learn it from us Humans?
"Know nothing." If Miranda had bothered to look over her shoulder, she might have been startled to see how similar their unhappy smiles were.
There was only a slight hesitation in her awkward, shuffling steps as his words reached her, but other than that, the girl-woman gave no indication that she'd even heard him, much less cared.
BLAH. Okay have I said yet how totally freakin' HARD it was to write them seventeen years younger? (Present time Kongol is about thirty-seven, and Miranda about thirty, according to official info.) Not to mention past-Miranda is a freakin' contradiction at this point in time. Yes, I did say Miranda was a prostitute. At thirteen. No power on this Earth is gonna convince me Theresa found her right after she was left alone. So there. She may seem a little old for her age, but I figure with the way she's living, she had to grow up.
Anyway, thanks for sitting through this latest flashback interlude thingie. Next up - an actual chapter, woohoo!