The Flame Keeper

Chapter 27

"Well, we're nearly here," Albert announced.

We stood in front of a winding alleyway, the cobblestone streets catching splotches of sunlight that streamed through the looming sky and on the sides, mismatched buildings huddled together as if to warm themselves against the chilling breeze.

I shivered, bits of water that clung to my shirt had been coated in a layer of frost and the loose fabric now stuck to my skin like a sheet of ice. The amber street lights pulsed with an ethereal glow, attempting to thaw the cold atmosphere but only succeeded in reminding me of Camila as we headed down the sodden street, a dozen eyes seemingly following me.

A few pipes ran along the sides, gurgling with rushing water, but besides a scratch or two, had been shielded from the ruthless storm by the large overhangs above us that cast an eerie dimness accompanied by the rhythmical drip of falling droplets. Few puddles stained the ground and any that did flowed freely through the cracks of stone and into the earth.

The wires suffered a different fate, being exposed to the ferocity of nature, and had snapped in half like trembling twigs in the wind, some of which showered clothes onto the street as they had been used for makeshift clotheslines.

We passed by a dilapidated barber shop, the once cheery red, white, and blue pole on the side had ground to a halt, and wind whistled through the shattered glass that revealed what remained of the glum place. Its soul had been stolen by the wind, drifting through the cracks in the window, and only a tattered armchair and scattered hair were condemned to the lifeless prison. My gaze lingered for a moment before shifting to a happier scene.

Across from the lackluster shop was a small flower boutique that hosted an assortment of sweet and fruity scents accompanied by a sublime collection of colorful petals that breathed life into the stale air surrounding us.

An elderly woman peeked from underneath her straw hat at the sight of us. Her voice was raspy like running a metal rake against the streets. "Care to buy a couple of flowers? Only one copper each. Our scarlet tulips are quite fashionable these days."

I shook my head gently, not wishing to offend her with a rash reaction. "No thank you, ma'am. We—"

Matilda cut me off and jumped in front of the stands. "C'mon, Wallace, you got to live a little. I'll have..." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, scanning the sea of flowers. "A daisy."

She rummaged through her coin pouch and placed a rusty copper into the woman's creased hands.

The woman smiled and her cheeks wrinkled, a rosy color that seemed to radiate warmth. "Ah, not my favorite but a good pick nonetheless. White fluffy petals like the clouds and a yellow disk like the morning sun..." She plucked one from a boutique, swiftly removing the stem as if sparing the daisy a painless death.

"Lean forward a bit, will you?" She asked and Matilda did so, a bit confused.

The woman pinched the stem gently and tucked it in between the locks of Matilda's dark hair so that it was wedged next to her left ear, a stark contrast that made my jaw drop slightly.

"What?" A light shade of red crept onto her cheeks as she slugged me playfully.

"N-nothing," I stammered. "You look good."

Ken walked over and nodded, flashing a thumbs up that quickly recoiled as Matilda socked him in the arm. "I just wanted to say you're somewhat decent now."

She just shook her head in mock annoyance, murmuring a soft thank you to the woman before elbowing Ken in the ribs.

Albert, who had been quietly observing the ordeal, let out a chuckle and gestured for us to follow him. A bit further down the street, we passed by an apartment building that cast a strip of pitch darkness, a small inn that hummed somber tunes, and peculiar houses that seemed to fall over at any second but were really intentional designs as Albert explained.