Unease

“Get out of here.” Those were the last words Iahalae had spoken to Elion the morning before he went to see his brother. He lived a considerable distance from his sibling and never made it out to see him, despite the two being very close. Iahalae envied the relationship, secretly of course. She longed for such a relationship with her own two siblings. Her brother was a lunatic, or that’s how she often phrased it when she bothered mentioning him to Elion. He craved attention, power, and adventure, and so he went off to get it. In all the wrong ways, she’d say as well. As for her sister, she followed after her brother. Iahalae stayed in her home town, doing the same thing she’d been doing since she was old enough to work, tending a bar.

The morning she had seen Elion off she remembered a specific crispness in the air. Humidity hung around them like a sweet blanket of serenity. She could feel the moisture in her lungs when she breathed in. Silence accompanied the moist air with the perfect notes. The sun was the most stunning though. It was a deep red as it barely peeked over the horizon from their view in front of the pub. Despite all the beauty and picture perfect imagery, something in her gut made her uneasy. There was no way she was going to rain on his parade though. He had been preparing for weeks. What to bring, what to make, which route to take, everything he had talked about for such a long period of time revolved around seeing his brother. She took pleasure in seeing him so excited and happy as if he was still the little boy she grew up with, always planning for adventures and getting into trouble.

Uneasiness followed her around the whole day. The pub owner, and her boss, noticed her lack of spirit instantly. Gloominess hung around her, something quite unusual for a woman who was constantly joking, laughing, and moving around. He had even mentioned taking the day off, but she refused. The only time she’d take a day off was the day she died.

Even as she started to clean up for the evening her stomach twisted and her mind moved a thousand miles a second. Her bottomless black eyes studied the counter top, counting the rings made by mugs, pints, and glasses. Fingers slowly traced the grain of the wood, dirt embedded in the areas that hadn’t been quite smoothed and finished. All the things that she usually found so quaintly charming about her work place were now dirty and disgusting. Without a thought she began scrubbing the wood as hard as she could, determined to get all the decades’ worth of grime off.

Not even five minutes had passed when Droth, her boss, grabbed her shoulder. “I’ll cleanup for you,” he said in his deep, gravelly voice. She looked up at his round, tanned face, trying to find comfort in the look of concern in his dark brown eyes, but all she could feel was worry.

“I can do it.” She turned back around but noticed the bucket of sudsy water was gone. Once again she turned to face Droth, staring at the bucket in his big hands.

“Nope. I won’t let you take your depression out on my counters. If this place looks too clean, who’ll come?” He smiled the best he could, which was always a crooked tug at the right side of his lips. There was no way she could get back her cleaning supplies. Without giving up any fight, as she usually would have done, she pulled back some stray gray hairs from her face and went to grab her bag. “And don’t forget, tomorrow’s the pub’s anniversary, so be at your best!” He called out to her as she left through the front door and out into the cool air of night.

Elion had decided he’d be coming back a week after leaving. That long expanse of time gave Iahalae nothing to do but worry and fret about him getting back, which meant that she’d work as hard as she could to get her mind off of it. She couldn’t explain the feeling she had, well she could, but if she did it’d most definitely get her in trouble. Her feelings weren’t merely intuition, and any showmanship of power deserved her place in the wanted list of the higher-ups. She hated anything to do with the leaders of her “people” as they’d like to call themselves. People, she could hardly think of that word together with the demented and power-hungry leaders that ruled over them.

As she walked amongst the darkened streets she couldn’t help but think about a childhood that seemed so long ago. Echoes of laughter filled her ears and she found herself remembering days when she, her siblings, Elion, and their friend Faust all ran along these streets, shouting at each other, playing games, racing, all the things kids typically did. Her brother, the eldest, would always come up with new and exciting games for them to play. She and Elion would typically be the rowdiest of the group. She remembered always beating the younger ones, her sister and Faust, and shoving it in their faces. They weren’t much younger than her, only by a few years, but as children she tried to take as much of an advantage of it as possible. Her brother would watch on in amusement as the younger tried to retaliate by breaking off and making their own games…and then ending back up in the group again. The adults in the village always disliked them because they’d get in trouble for running into things, accidentally breaking goods, or just being loud.

Despite their disputes, the group had been so close and attached. Everyone had special relationships with the others, something different for each person. She missed those days, when everything was seemingly simple and nothing mattered in the end. Everything was completely opposite now, everything mattered and nothing seemed simple. Where had everyone gone wrong? Her brother and sister were off trying to get power and whatever else they thought to be important. Faust had disappeared a few years back, shortly before her siblings went away. And now Elion, which she still had a bad feeling about him leaving. She was the only one left.

Her hollow black eyes looked out as an uneasiness overcame her, one more intense than the feeling she had all day. Suddenly nausea arose in the pit of her stomach and she grabbed the nearest wall. Vomit made its way up into her throat and she swallowed down heavily, trying to hold it back. Just as she was about to throw up something grabbed her shirt and tugged. When she turned around she saw a raggedy dog staring up at her. Half of its left ear looked chewed off, blood matted its fur, and beneath its front paws was a dirty leather jacket.

Fear replaced the nausea as she knelt down and picked up the jacket. Elion’s jacket. The dog whimpered to her, as if trying to tell her something. She stared into its dark brown eyes, trying to pull out some sort of message. Where had this dog come from? Why was it here? For a moment she thought it was Elion’s daemon, perhaps he had just gotten it, just found it, or whatever daemons did to get to their partner. Part of her hoped that it’d talk, do that telepathy thing that they supposedly did. Part of her wanted it to be a normal wild dog. Both scenarios meant something bad. One meant that Elion was alive somewhere, but nowhere good, the other meant he was dead. Which one did she want more, him to be alive but not himself, or to be dead and have no suffering?

No words came from the animal. Instead, it looked at her, tongue slightly hanging from its opened mouth. Carefully, she reached out and put a hand to its head. The dog wagged its tail, enjoying the attention. She found herself thinking about having to bathe it, feed it, and make a bed for it. It seemed she was already making a place in her otherwise empty life for the dog, the dog with her husband’s jacket.

“Let’s get you inside.”