The Big C-reative

Previous Chapters Chapter 1, Part 1 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-1) Chapter 1, Part 2 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-2) Chapter 1, Part 3 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-3) Chapter 1, Part 4(https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-4) Chapter 1, Part 5 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-5) Chapter 1, Part 6 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-6) Chapter 2, Part 1(https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-2-part-1) Chapter 2, Part 2 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-2-part-2) Whenever Christa visited the upper district, she was able to dream of what it would be like to wake up every day in the luxurious mansions that occupied its spacious streets. But whenever she walked back to the lower district, she was always brought back to her own hopeless reality. And this walk was no different. With each step, the buildings would become smaller and more decrepit than the last. The wide and straight streets would become more narrow and winding. High-end restaurants became dives, and boutiques became cheap stalls for items of the lowest quality. Despite being in the same city, the two district were two very different worlds on opposite sides of the river Vira. But this world, the one that sat on the southern bank of the river, was her home. Christa’s feet were tired, but at last, they had made it. She stood before the Grimm Inn, a modest establishment nestled within the winding streets of the lower district. The building was unremarkable, with its simple wooden facade and plain sign hanging overhead. But for Christa, it was a welcome sight after a long journey. She looked back at Orin, the walk had definitely not been kind to him. Towards the end, he had lost a lot of pace, and so the walk took longer. She was almost sure that he had lost more weight since the time by the river, but how that was possible, she did not know. “We’re here,” she told him, pushing on the large doors. As the doors parted open, the scent of ale and roasting meat filled her nostrils. The inn was dimly lit, with flickering candles casting shadows across the room. The patrons were a mix of working-class locals and weary travellers, huddled around tables and murmuring in hushed tones. Her stomach rumbled as if it had a mind of its own and was begging her to fill it. She heard Orin’s stomach grumble as if responding to her own. “Hey, you do have coin on you, right?”, Orin said, his eyes wide open. “Yes…” Christa responded. She did not know where Orin had found the energy from, she could hardly believe that this was a man who was struggling to walk just minutes ago. But he had ran up to the bar to make his order before she could finish what she had to say. “… but you’ll have to pay me back” she finally finished to ears that weren’t around to hear her. She sighed and made her way to the bar, her eyes scanning the room as she went. The inn was small, with only a handful of tables and a single fireplace providing warmth on this chilly evening. But it had a certain charm to it, a sense of belonging. Orin had already ordered and gone off to find an empty table by the time Christa got to the bar. Kai, the burly bartender, looked up from his cleaning with a grizzled smile, his wild mane of hair framing his rugged features. “Well, well, well,” Kai greeted her with a warm chuckle. “If it isn’t Christa. It’s been a while. I’m guessing that man over there is with you?” Christa glanced over at Orin, who sat at a nearby table with a frothy ale in hand, his bearded face split by a grin. You’d almost think the God Motriar himself had died with how much he was smiling. "Hey, yeah I guess you could say that." "He's a little too old for you, don't you think?" Kai jested, his eyes twinkling with mirth. Christa rolled her eyes, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of her lips. "It's not like that," she replied quickly, turning back to Kai. "I'm just yanking your chain," Kai said, wiping a glass with a ragged towel. "So, what'll it be?" Christa hesitated for a moment, staring nervously at the bar counter. "Kai?" she asked, her voice tinged with anxiety. "Do you think I could get one ale, please? The Dirty Blonde, I think that was Jax's favourite." Kai raised an eyebrow suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. "And what are you, fifteen, not even sixteen? You know I can't do that. Jax would kill me if he found out I was serving you alcohol." Christa's eyes grew misty, tears glistening in the flickering torchlight. Since it had happened, she hadn't spoken the words out loud. Now, saying them felt like ripping off a bandage. "Jax is dead," she whispered, her voice cracking. Kai’s eyes widened in shock, “What? How could that be?” He asked, his voice laced with disbelief. Christa looked up at him, her eyes haunted. “He was killed” she explained, her voice quivering with emotion. “I just wanted to honour him just this once, with his favourite ale.” Kai's expression softened; his rough features etched with sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Christa,” he murmured, "I didn't realise." He hesitated for a moment, then relented with a sigh. "Okay," he said, reaching for a glass. "Just this once, and it's on the house. Anyway, head over there; the food will be out soon. I believe that man ordered for you too. Said you’ll be paying, so I’ll bring the bill over shortly.“ "Thank you," Christa said, her voice barely above a whisper. She took a deep breath, then picked up the glass and made her way over to Orin, her heart heavy with grief. As she approached the table, she could see the froth from the ale clinging to Orin's thick beard, with his glass already half empty. He gestured for Christa to sit down “Here, sit down.”, he said, his voice jovial. He was still smiling wide and bright to the point where it was infectious. It must’ve been a while since he had last tasted alcohol, let alone had a proper meal. Knowing what it was to eat after starving for so long, Christa couldn’t help but smile back at him as she sat down with her own ale in hand. She raised the glass to and nervously took a sip. She contorted her face in disgust and placed it back down. Orin laughed at her reaction. “First time?” Christa nodded, her cheeks reddening. "Why would anyone want to drink this?" “The flavour grows on you.” Orin said as he took a big gulp of his own ale. “Anyway, who are we here to see?” Christa looked at him sheepishly. "Well, actually, I don't know. All I know is that we had to meet her here." Orin wiped the froth from his beard with the back of his hand. "I should've guessed. It's a trend with you. Seems you don't know who or what anyone looks like." Christa looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Yes, I usually leave all of that with Jax." "So what's the plan?" Orin asked. "We just wait here until they come. I still need to get paid for this job," Christa replied, picking up her glass and taking another, slightly less hesitant sip. "Okay, and if they don't come?" Orin queried. "We'll get a room here and figure it out," Christa said, bracing herself for the taste of the ale as she took another gulp. “Well, sounds like you’ve figured it out to the point of figuring it out.” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He stared at Christa for a moment before his eyes widened in delight. "Here's the food!" he exclaimed. Christa turned to see the barmaid placing an enormous amount of food on the table. Her eyes widened in shock at the sheer amount of it. It was enough to feed a small army. How he would manage to eat even just half of it, she had no idea. Before the barmaid could walk away, Orin handed her his empty glass. "More please," he said, not even bothering to ask if Christa wanted a refill. Christa stared at him in disbelief. The audacity of this man, expecting her to pay for all of this! Orin picked up his fork and knife, ready to dig in to the food. "Where are my manners?" he said, pausing with his utensils ready. "Shall I wait for your food to come too? Did you order something?" Christa took a deep breath, trying to suppress her annoyance at the realisation that he didn’t order her any food. "No, I did not," she said bluntly. And with that, Orin started to eat whilst Christa took another sip of her drink hoping her palate had adjusted somewhat since the last. But yet again her tastebuds recoiled at the acrid bitterness. The ale was still rough and earthy, with a hint of sweetness that did little to mask its unyielding bite; despite this Christa was determined to soldier through. "This one is for you, Jax," she thought to herself as she took another sip. Next Chapter

Previous Chapters Chapter 1, Part 1 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-1) Chapter 1, Part 2 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-2) Chapter 1, Part 3 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-3) Chapter 1, Part 4(https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-4) Chapter 1, Part 5 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-5) Chapter 1, Part 6 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-6) Chapter 2, Part 1 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-2-part-1) As Orin and Christa arrived at the heart of Cineris, the sun had already risen high in the sky, casting its warm light upon the bustling marketplace. It was a sight to behold, with vendors showing off their wares and street performers vying for the attention of passersby. The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread wafted through the air, filling the senses of all who wandered through the market's winding alleys. Orin couldn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal, so he stared on lustfully at the different foods as he walked by. He had half a mind to ask Christa to steal some food for him, but this was not a time to be taking unnecessary risks. He had lasted five years on a near empty stomach, just a little longer wouldn’t hurt. Despite the changes that had taken place since Orin's last visit to Cineris, there was one thing that remained unchanged in those five years: the great fountain of Motriar. It stood tall in the centre of the marketplace, its marble gleaming white in the sun's rays. The statue atop the fountain, depicting the arrogant god of fire with his arms outstretched, incited a deep anger within Orin. To him, the statue was nothing more than a symbol of the gods' tyranny, demanding the worship of mortals who were, in truth, no better than them. The statue's eyes seemed to bore into him, daring him to challenge its supposed superiority. Water cascaded down from its outstretched hands, a constant reminder of the god's power. Carvings etched into the marble surrounding the fountain depicted the god's supposed victories over other gods, a display of vanity that sickened Orin to his core. Despite his loathing for the statue and all it represented; the fountain's basin offered a respite for weary travellers. Made of the same pure marble as the rest of the fountain, it was a place where people could rest and refresh themselves in the cool water. Orin looked up at the fountain, his face contorted with disgust. “At least you can smell it too, you still smell like shit," Christa remarked nonchalantly, unaware of how her words stung. "You could have said it kindlier!” Orin snapped back. During their journey to Cineris, Orin had managed to wash himself in the river while Christa had stolen a change of clothes from a nearby cottage. Perhaps the stench of his own filth had become ingrained in his skin. A smell he had gotten used to during his three years in the prison. It will probably take a few more washes to get rid of the smell entirely he thought. Regardless, he lifted his arm to check for himself and just as he thought, nothing. Christa was silent for a moment, as if considering her response. “Sorry,” she replied eventually. "On the bright side, you'll blend right in with where we're headed next." Orin raised an eyebrow. "And what's there?" “The lower district, smells like shit there too.” Christa laughed. Orin was glad to see that Christa was at least still able to make jokes considering what had happened. So he though he’d at least humour her. “Ah, looks like we’ll both fit in then, they make the houses small over there.” Orin quipped in return. Christa shot a deadly stare back at him, her laugh fading. “Let’s go.” she said finally, deciding to ignore him. “Let’s see what’s happening over there.” She can dish it out, but she can’t take it. Typical. Orin followed her, still laughing and pleased with his joke. Adjacent to the marketplace was the main square of Cineris, which was encircled by impressive buildings fashioned of white stone. The most notable of these was the city hall, a grand structure with a towering clock tower that overlooked the entire square. There seemed to be a crowd forming along the road that separated the main square from the marketplace. Orin couldn’t help but feel a little excited. Maybe it was a performer, it had been a while since Orin had been allowed to enjoy the small pleasures in life. The four walls of the prison did very little in the way of entertainment, and the other inmates even less. The crowd grew louder and more frenzied and eventually when they reached the front, Christa stopped in her tracks, her body shaking. Orin felt a knot form in his stomach as he also realised what was going on, it was the Tressa family cavalcade passing through in the direction of the Estate. Obviously here to just show off, the route through the marketplace wasn’t even the fastest to the estate from the main city gates. The Tressa family's carriage was ornately decorated with red accents that represented fire, and gold that represented the family's wealth. The carriage was being guided through the streets by expert riders, while three soldiers on horseback led the way. Inside the carriage, the members of the Tressa family sat in quiet splendor, their clothing exuding arrogance. Magnus Tressa, the head of the family, was a tall and imposing figure with hair as bright as a flame. He sat at the head of the carriage, his piercing gaze surveying the people of Cineris with a sense of superiority. His wife, Rowena Tressa, too looked on at the crowd with her hand on her face, seemingly bored and unappreciative of the praises from the citizens. The children also sat in the carriage towards the rear, the youngest son, Alis, with black hair, like his mother and the daughter, Ruby, with red hair like her father. Orin looked down at Christa and seen her fists were clenched tightly, her nails digging into her palms as she too seethed with anger. That’s when Orin realised that this pure and unadulterated hatred he had for the Tressa family, was something Christa shared with him. But, right now as they are, there is very little they can do about it. Afraid she would do something in this moment, putting herself in danger, Orin placed his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go.” he said, finally. Next Chapter

Previous Chapters Chapter 1, Part 1 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-1) Chapter 1, Part 2 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-2) Chapter 1, Part 3 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-3) Chapter 1, Part 4(https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-4) Chapter 1, Part 5 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-5) Chapter 1, Part 6 (https://www.thebigcreative.org/writing/general-creative-writing/about-orin-chapter-1-part-6) At first, Christa couldn’t believe it. It was as if she were in a nightmare. But the bitter reality of loss soon washed over her, leaving her gasping for breath. Memories of her parents passing away was something she had suppressed a long time ago in the deepest parts of her mind, back then she was too young to remember, and too innocent to even comprehend the weight of death. She had cried and begged to see her mother and father again, not knowing that death only takes but never returns. Eventually the tears stopped, and she forgot. That’s when Jax became her everything, but now he too was taken away. Everything happened too quickly for her to process, one moment, her brother was pierced by blue fire, and the next moment, the landscape blurred past her at breakneck speed, the wind slapping against her face. From the Tressa estate, down the hill and over the river Vira. The whole time, she hoped it was all just a dream, a hallucination, but it wasn’t. Jax lay lifeless on the autumn leaves next to the riverbank, his body charred and black. His hands clutching a box tightly. As the night drew to a close, the sun began to rise, illuminating Jax's features. Christa cried. In her mind’s eye, she saw it all unfold again and again: her brother engulfed in blue flames, Inigo’s hand piercing through his chest like a spear. Despite the agony, Jax managed to smile at her one last time before departing this world. “I think we should be out of the range of the Tressa’s blessing beacon.” Orin said, interrupting Christa’s thoughts. He was on the floor, and seemed out of breath, his body soaking wet. Only now did Christa notice that he was back to his shrivelled state. Skin and bones again, but worse than when Christa had first found him in the prison. “Even though they can’t detect us anymore, they’ll have an idea of the direction we went in.” Orin continued; his voice breathless. “So, we can’t keep walking in a straight line if we want to avoid them.” Christa watched as Orin stood up and approached her. He reached out to take her arm, but she flinched away, her eyes and mind returning back at Jax. She blamed herself, wondering if things would have been different if she had waited for his signal or bothered to find out what Orin looked like before they had started. But things weren't different, and the weight of Jax's death was heavy on her heart. “I’m sorry, I understand it’s difficult,” Orin said softly bringing her back to the moment. “But we must get going soon. Before we do that, we need to do something about your arm.” Christa looked down at her right arm and noticed that it was still bleeding from where the guard had sliced her earlier. Orin reached forward again, but this time Christa didn’t flinch. Orin ripped Christa’s sleeve off and began to tighten it around her wound to help alleviate the bleeding. After a long silence, Christa finally spoke, “Thank you.” she said, with a sad face. “No need,” Orin replied. “It should last at least until we get back in to the city. Then you’ll need to get it looked at properly.” “Not for my arm…” Christa paused. “Well, yes for my arm too. But also, for bringing Jax with us here.” Christa tried to let out a smile, but couldn’t. “Christa…”, Orin looked at her with sympathy, as though he was struggling with his next words. But Christa cut him off. “I already know,” she said, observing Orin's weakened state. He had most likely used up all the power from the fire just to bring her and Jax here. Between the two of them, with her wounded arm and Orin’s powerless state, they wouldn’t be able to take Jax any further than this. “I’m just glad that I’ll be able to give him a proper send-off.” Christa bent down and took the box from Jax’s hands and covered him in dry leaves. Orin also bent down and with the last remnants of his power, he set the leaves alight. Pushing every last bit of his power in to it until there was nothing left but ash. Christa stood there, watching the ashes of her beloved brother being swept away by the river, now clutching the box that Jax had possessed over. In that moment, she made a promise that the dream they had planned together for so long, she would see it through. Next Chapter