Chimes could be heard through the small shop like raucous laughter echoing of father Vodul himself, as the glorious sun overhead instead stood silent and imposing over the town of Odejeva. Sand occasionally whipped from the arenose streets in a dance seemingly malicious in nature; a single breath of laughter from the fierce wind would scorn the face of any passer by not properly covered with fine grands of glass .
A screen door hung with a gimp on the entrance of the humble merchant's shop, and holes in the lattice betrayed its purpose as the only sentry between the calm shop and the destructive nature of these sands; if they ever had the chance to wreck havoc on the vulnerable insides of the ancient time pieces it would take days, even weeks, to repair. But then again, Yllen did have the time. Odejeva wasn't exactly renowned for its crafting of such fine time pieces, so much of the time spent inside the shop guarding the fine chronometers was superfluous. No one would want to steal this junk anyhow.
Yllen watched, with a weary gaze upon his sullen countenance, as a dark silhouette graced the entrance to his pitiful bazaar. The chime of the bell hadn't sung for weeks, and upon its ringing the bearings inside rang off key with the accumulation of dust. The sound actually made Yllen jump a bit in surprise.
"Hello there! May I help you? If you step this way I can show you some of the-"
"Shut up, and stay down."
"I beg your pard-"
"I said shut up! If you want to live, you'll keep your head down and your jaw shut.", the large Endukai growled. He was approximately 6 feet of lean muscle had begun to unsheathe a blade of dagger size.
"I'm afraid I don't-"
As the unwelcome visitor glared at Yllen, his nose wrinkled with the fierceness of a wild beast, and the intruder's eyes shone with a glaze similar to that of a whiskey binge (although anyone would have been fully aware the man's sobriety due to his breath which was a prominent pallet of russhel).
Terrified, Yllen complied with the man. He was obviously outmatched as far as muscle went; days in this shop were not accounted for from a college education, so any clever plans of escape were out of the question. Years of owning of a shop had taught him one thing: know when you're outmatched, and hand over the cash. The cash can be insured, but you can't buy a new head.
A mob's frenzied steps could be heard not too far outside. A few men donning capes of blood hued red and deep azure strode by with determined faces. Yllen thought were more than capable of committing murder.
"He can't be too far; search the merchant's homes and shops! If the poor bastards refuse, burn the place to the ground!"
Yllen's eyes shot open with horror. For a moment, his voice almost crept beyond his throat to betray the intruder of his humble store. Why should he care about the fortune of this man? He had threatened with a blade no doubt guilty of spilling its share of blood. However, the trespasser stood ominously with a single digit held to his lips. His brow like accusingly, which evidenced that the man would not take any funny business. A single yelp, and Yllen was sure he was done for.
When the footsteps retreated into the blinding sandstorm, the mysterious Enki stood cautiously and crept surreptitiously to the door without a single floorboard rasping as he stepped. His movements were fluid like water, and his breath as quiet and controlled as a carakass. It was evident that this man was very experienced in his field. Whatever that field was, anyways. Although Yllen was sure it was not of a legal or morally acceptable nature.
"So what were those men after anyways!" Yllen whispered this, as it wasn't officially declared by the man whether or not he had permission to speak.
The man did not respond, and continued to look in the wayward direction of the retreating mob. His eyes looked somewhat relieved, and the heavy lids closed with finality as the Enki slumped to the ground.
In this action, a red stream fled down the tufted leg of the concealed intruder. Yllen hadn't noticed this during the few moments of panic behind the counter. Sweat adorned the brow of the large Enki intruder, and suddenly he looked very weak. It was curious how quickly an intimidating person can deteriorate into a powerless specter. Contempt filled Yllen, and he began to regret the betrayal he almost committed during the curt trepidation.
"He's in here!" One of the men yelled from outside. Yllen's heart jumped. No. They couldn't. How would they have guessed? Suddenly his gaze met the floor. A crimson path led directly to the wounded Enki. In slow recognition, Yllen stared with amazement at his captor. Perhaps he was not as skilled as previously thought. The Enki met Yllen's gaze, and he himself traced the river of his own clotted blood. Consternation seemed to fill the imposing bandit.
The men barged in, freeing the damage door of its final bond to the emporium' s entrance. Quickly the seized the large intruder from under his arms. Exhausted from his flight, the Enki did not give up much of a fight, simply attempting to shrug off the hands with useless and inane motions. The intruder was then carried off by two men, who walked in an eerie unison. They carried the bandit off with considerable ease, one arm a piece. Considerable strength, even for these large men.
One of the men who entered donned the most magnificent of the extravagant capes. It was decorated with countless emeralds and sapphire, "So you harbor this man? Are you aware of punishment you shall face for this mutiny?"
Yllen barely choked out the words of a reply with a rasp tongue, "Forgive me! I feared for my life. The feline threatened me! He held a blade to my throat, I swear it!"
"I care not for these excuses. Burn the shop to the ground!"
"Please, sir! Have mercy!"
Yllen pled on his knees, his eyes tear ridden and his nose wet with fright. They then harnessed and tied the poor Endukai shopkeeper to his hefty cash register with hemp ropes that burned at his wrists. The prominent cape donning man swept away in an air of haughtiness, his cape flowing behind him as he turned abruptly on his heels.
The store owner now alone tried fruitlessly to escape from his bonds, but the ropes dug into his skin further. Warm dry weather flushed into the storm, and the malcious sand danced in the wind before resting inside the irritated wounds. Yllen let out a cry of agony, before coughing as the dry wind attacked his throat.
Two more men entered the shop with torches lit. The heat generated from the two timber and cloth posts was enormous; no doubt magically enchanted somehow. The looked at Yllen as he lay helpless on the ground. His captors held their position, not flinching even from the enormous heat. The henchmen had no emotion whatsoever. upon their faces.
Yllen's tears streamed down his cheek, but was now mute. The crystal like shards fell from Yllen's cheeks with aimless interim. As a final plea, Yllen spoke against the dry environ.
"Please... I'm begging you." He looked down wearied, gasping with heavy breath. He then spoke with a high volume, and looked into the two men's eyes with a desperate coruscation.
"Take what you want! I have- I have money! You like money? There has to be enough tria in there for it to be worth it and let me be free. I've committed no crime here." Yllen laughed pitifully "C'mon, just let me go."
However, as the shopkeeper looked to his captors, fear filled his veins with larger volumes. The two men's eyes were empty like milky puddles of mercury. There was something queer in the perfectly still stance the sentry's held. Their feet never left the ground, nor did their balance falter. Eerily they stood silent as they did straight.
Suddenly the two men moved with a purpose that was so abrupt that it startled Yllen. They moved with such precision. And something clicked. Something wasn't right. When the men stepped it was almost like...
Yllen had indeed heard these sounds before. Their familiarity was so bizarre it chilled him to the bone. He just couldn't put his finger on it. With a steady pendulum's pace, the arms and feet moved in unison until both men perfectly aligned to the walls stood parallel to each other. Their feet were perpendicular to both walls, and their arms raised exactly 40 degrees.
It was so queer how the men moved in perfect unison. It was like... clockwork. Yllen gasped in horror. That was impossible! Man... bred from machine? Even the greatest machinists of the day couldn't produce such a disturbing image of perfection. The greatest minds could not make such a perfect marvel of technology.
The torches that the two... abominations held slowly rose upwards until the ceiling caught with a carpet of flowing blaze. The kindling swept the dry boards of the ceiling with ease, and it wasn't long before the drapes were instantaneously lost to the overbearing heat. The drapes surrendered to the extreme heat, and burnt like the wheat fields in a spring fire, sparked by a single bolt of lightning or flickered awake by a single ember. The pacing effect of the flames quickly filled the whole bazaar and it was corrupted with the pyrotechnics as they violently swept through the arid shop.
Winds once more arid wind drafted through the shop, encouraging the flames almost pushing them along as they ate through Yllen's shop. Smoke poured from the adobe home black from the mass amounts of lacquer and paint. The smell of burning flesh and acrylic paint filled the plaza. A single resounding note filled the air, as the clocks let out a final wounded cry. Yllen's own horrid screaming could hardly be acknowledged over the chiming.
