Promises

"Everyone has a purpose in life, my dear. Finding and living it out, not matter what it may be, is the true adventure less sought for."



This was one of the last bits of advice my mother left me before her passing. I was fortunate enough to have found my calling earlier than most. From when I was small, I knew there was only one place I belonged - on the road, running freely. It wasn't until later on in life I discovered that becoming a Deliverer had always been my destiny. Not the “deliver” you're probably thinking of. Nope. I deliver messages and packages to people.



Now, you also might be thinking "Why would someone PICK to be the mailman?"



For one, I love the practicality of my company's mission. Transporting items to people can give one a real sense of importance. In this day and age, a person doesn't have time to go from place to place just to hand over a package or a letter. They have more important obligations to their family, friends, and community. That is where my company, The Delivery Corporation steps in,  or "Delivery Corp." for short. We guarantee the following three things: strict confidentiality, reasonably short transportation times, and fair rates. So, when people hand over their package to a runner shrouded in a royal blue cape with a silver bird embroidered into the delicate yet sturdy fabric, they know for a fact that their mail will get to its desired destination as soon as possible, no questions asked, and for a good, affordable price.



Specifically, I am a long-distance Deliverer. Sometimes I have to run a day to get to one town or village which brings me to Reason Two: since I am by myself, no one is there looking over my shoulder asking dumb questions such as where I am going, for how long, and when I am going home. On the road, I could make my own decisions as to where I want to go, how long I want to be gone for, and at what pace aka How fast!



Reason three to why I love my job - delivering packages give me an excuse to run as fast and far as I please. As a long distance Deliverer, I alone sprint to different towns, near or far. Running, to me, is the best feeling in the world. Letting the wind run through my hair, daring myself to go so fast to the point where I feel as if I have shapeshifted into the bird on my cape, spreading my silver wings wide to begin to soar into the air. I am alive and invincible. My mother longed to feel these things growing up but could not because of her family confined her to gender-specific duties. When culture changed in favor of women, allow them to pursue their heart's truest desires, it was too late for her. She had been diagnosed with a rapid degenerative neuro-muscular disease. She was gone within months. Being a Deliverer is the only way I know I can be free and uphold my mother's teachings.



Now you know why I have the perfect job. I am living my dream. This isn't your average heroic story of where the protagonist spends heaven-knows how long to figure out what their "destiny" is and how to fulfill it. I am no such tale. My journey of self-discovery is over. This is my happily ever after, the self-independent-no-romance-needed version.



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I finally broke through the forest and into a clearing. I was a bit relieved after hours of navigating through woody twists and turns. For a while, I had thought I had lost my way. 



Not too far off the edge of the woods was the enormous wooden wall I was hoping to reach before evening settled in. This package was the last one in my Deliverer's bag. If all went well I'll be out of the area before nightfall.



The wall heavily guarded the City of Wood, otherwise known as Lumberton, like a fortress. This was my first time there but I was told they were less important and intimidating than they tried ever so hard to make themselves appear, despite the deadly guards stationed at the top and the foot of the wall who wouldn't hesitate to shoot first and ask questions later if needed. Lumberton didn't actually need so much security nor an enormous wall. The forest served as their natural boundary after their paranoid ancestors went through great lengths to cast something on it, or as legend has it. Their efforts were rewarded, perhaps too well. The result made the woods seem incredibly confusing, mostly to those "it" perceived as a threat. Travelers far and wide say that only those confident and pure in heart find their way through the damned forest, all else are left forever wandering begging the bark and leaves for mercy. After a while, after of numerous rumors of screams in the night, after the list of missing civilians and ninja grew considerably longer, everyone called the woods I just came from one name, Forest of the Lost. Don't ask me how the purity of one's heart is determined because that is beyond me. Still, why take a chance on a notorious legend? Hence me wanting to get my behind out of there BEFORE nightfall.



I kept running around the wall until I found what resembled entrance gates. Two tall men in tight dark green uniforms stood like strong trees, rooted beside either side of the expertly hand carved and inscripted door, as well as on top of the wall. All bows were strung and ready to be used at any moment’s notice. I could feel the tension rise as I approached them, each guard carefully marking where on my body they would shoot the arrow if needed. Just when I was about to say something, one of the guards stationed at the lookout let out a whistle that rang in the air like a bell. The doormen lowered their weapons halfway. The whistler must have seen distinctively blue and silver cape and realized I was a Deliverer.



“Slow down, sweetheart.” was the first thing one of the guards said to me. “What’s the emergency?” He was in his mid-thirties and had spiky brown hair. Half of it was covered by a black bandana that he had tied tightly around his forehead.



“Nothing. Just doing my job” I said, still panting.



The man glanced to his partner on his right. His mouth and neck were covered in a mask of a darker shade than his uniform. Uneven stringy black hair with hints of gray didn't fall past his shoulders. From the wrinkly skin that was visible to me, I could tell he was older than he appeared.



“You seem a little wiped out there, kid." he said through the mask. "Is it urgent?”



Sweetheart? Kid? What am I, some snot-nosed brat? It sounded like something my father or brother would say. Had they never seen a Deliverer before?



“No.” I replied, keeping my composure. “I’m fine. I just felt like running. It's kind of my job.” They glanced at each other once more before caving in, shouldering their bows.



"Very, well. Identification, please." I handed him a silver medallion that held the corporation emblem along with name, rank, unit, and a description on the back. Without it, I would be stranded with no way home.



“Oh!” Bandana-man exclaimed once he saw the badge. “So you are Quickfeet Quincy from the City Among the Trees! I have heard about you. The fastest Deliverer, they call you!”



“Yes, sir. That’s me.” I handed them the envelope I was supposed to deliver.



“I guess they don’t call you that for nothing.” His partner added, stamping it. 



“I guess they don’t.”



"Are you staying for the night?" Bandana-Man asked. "If you are, we have some inns you could stay at."



I knew why they were asking. I looked at they sky. It was almost evening. Almost. The giant wall wasn't just to keep things from the forest out. It was also to keep people from wandering into the forest, unprotected. The shinobi of Lumberton were loyal to their citizens but not so much as to risk the very lives of their men to save one person who lacked common sense.



"Nah. This shouldn't take too long. I should be out before you close the gates for the night."



Everyone looked at each other. "You sure, kid?" The one with stringy hair said. "Once we close these gates, they don't open until we see the sun with our own eyes."



"I'm sure. I'll be using the West gates when I leave. It'll be a straight shot home after that." Well, at least that was what the map in my Delivery Guide said. But I didn't dare mention that or the other tiny detail that this was my first time in the area. Then they would really the recommendation to spend the night in Lumberton would turn into an authoritative order that I would unfortunately have to comply to. They didn't care if staying on back would push me back on my schedule. They only cared about their own hide.



Bandana-Man reluctantly nodded to a nearby younger guard  who came by to see what was holding up the process. He whistled upwards. Another whistle answered back. A moment later, the enormous wooden doors began to open. Past them, I could see the bustling streets of Lumberton, full of people, shops, and homes, all crammed within the gigantic walls.



"Take care, kid." The old man said to me as I prepare to enter the town. "Oh, and try not to run too fast, eh? You never know where those quick feet of yours might sweep you off to. It could be straight into a storm."



"Or a beautiful meadow," I responded, not particularly liking his condescending attitude. I still smiled at him as I silently walked past him into the town they stood for hours to guard but would never follow into the Forest of the Lost if push came to shove.



Lord Cordley was my Receiver for this assignment. He owns the only lumber company in the City of the Wood after utilizing its other strange property, rapid growth. Lord Cordley built an empire on this convinently endless source, becoming the nation’s largest wood supplier. Many had tried to compete with his business but no one could keep up with his sense of innovation or his rumored dazzling charm that always seemed to land him the best partnerships. Thus, as the only successful seller of Lumberton wood, it made complete sense that he would have the largest building in town that could easily located from where I stood on the other side of town. As the North Gates closed behind me with a deafening bang, my eyes fell on the tall, prominent wooden building that served as the headquarters of Cordley Co. I couldn't help but wonder if the businessman had an underlying reason for building the largest structure in town using such superstitious wood even though every building in Lumberton were built by imported wood. Maybe he wanted to show people that even wood from a damned place such as the forest that both caged and protected them can be put to good use, that there was really nothing to fear at all.



The streets were quite a spectacle to see. They were full of people, young and old, taking advantage of the cool evening weather. Mothers meandered among shops, arms weighed down by basketfuls of products. A group of small boys chased each other along the sidewalks and through the wandering crowd. Old men sat casually on street corners, drinking ale, smoking their pipes, and arguing energetically about the latest political news. It was the peaceful setting every quaint and enjoyable little town was supposed to have. I was sure that a similar scene was occurring on the streets of my hometown, City Amoung the Trees or what commoners referred to as "Treetop Town." Matter of speaking, I hadn't returned home for a while after being swamped with assignments along the way to various destinations. I wondered what were my father and brother doing. Were they going about their daily routine or were they pacing the house, worrying about me?



My mind stayed occupied as I completed my trek towards Cordley Co. headquarters. It was grander than I had imagined, a truly incredible wooden feat. Multiple buildings cleverly branched off like branches of an enormous tree. Some served as warehouses for different types of wood, some served as a lab for various construction projects, outside of Lumberton, of course. However, even though the buildings were the center of the action, Lord Cordley made sure that his offices were architecturally unique from the rest, dancing between the lines of practicality and luxury. Everything from desks to chairs in the lobby, to door knobs, were all individually hand crafted by experts the mixing of wood and glass, each piece ensured to be the only kind in the world.



I controlled my wonder as I climbed the five flights stairs that lead to Lord Cordley's personal office. The office turned out to be easy to find. All I had to do was follow the increase in gold furniture. "A wealthy man needs to show off his riches." the receptionist told me before I went up. The waiting room proved them right. It was decorated with intricate carvings in the wooden columns, golden seated chairs, and a small aquarium with fish I have never seen in my life. Two large doors were on one corner of the room. Lord Corley's office had to be on the other side of them.  A lady sat at a large desk, reading a book even though there was clearly a large stack of papers that needed attending to right in front of her.



"Hello!" I cheerfully greeted to the receptionist. Her eyes continued to stay intently on the novel she was reading.



"Hello!" I repeated myself with the same cheer, only to receive no answer once more.



Ugh. Receptionists. After much experiences with the pencil-pushers I have come learned that they always seemed to be either reading something or focusing on something else. They will rarely ever notice someone standing at their desk.



A plain brown paper completely masked the book's cover. I peered at the spine to see if I could decipher the title of the book she desperately didn't want anyone to know she was engrossed in. Although I could only make out a couple words, I knew exactly what she was reading. It was a romance novel between a common girl and a rich business man. I had seen it in a bookshop a few days ago. So she had a crush her boss. How scandalous!



"Has he whisked her away to his mansion to confess his undying love for her, yet?" I asked loudly. She jumped in her seat, cheeks glowing red.



“Oh! A delivery!" she exclaimed delightfully, seeing my cape. "I assume it is for Lord Cordley?”



“Yes, ma’am.” Trying to trade my smirk for a more professional smile. It was hard, seeing how the receptionist's eyes lit up like the sun at my words. She immediately stood, patted down her light purple business dress, adjusted her dorky black glasses, and straightened her short curly brown hair.



“I can take that for you.” She told me. Her hand stretched out to me for the ticket to see her busy boss. Poor girl, I thought. So desperate. I had never personally met Lord Cordley so he was either Lord Dreamy or she was in it for his hefty bank account.



“I am terribly sorry," I told her. "That would go against company policy. I have to give it to him personally to ensure that he receives the package himself.”



The lady’s cheer vanished in a flash. “You seem a little too young to be a stickler for the rules, don't you think?” Her lips curved into a slight snarl, which I also didn't appreciate along with the comment on my age.



"I just take my job seriously.” I replied. Her eyes were suddenly replaced with balls of fire. I had poked her a little too hard. But hey, I had an actual job to finish.



“Fine.” The word came out as a nasty snarl. Her hair whipped my face as she strutted to the door. “Lord Cordley!" she seductively sang out to her beloved. "There is package here for you.”



A few seconds later a slow reply came. “Okay, send it in.”



“Go in,” she said. I expected her to return to her seat but her eyes pierced through me like daggers as I opened the doors to Lord Cordley's office.



"I'll wait till you go out." The desperate receptionist stationed herself at the open doorway like a guard dog.



I eagerly opened my mouth to tell her that transfers have to be conducted in private but a voice from within the office beat me to it. "That's okay. You can go," Lord Cordley said, with an emphasis on the "you." I bit back a laugh. He didn't even say her name! I doubt he even knew it. The receptionist's face crumbled at the same thought and quietly closed the door behind her like a puppy that had been kicked aside by its owner.



Lord Cordley's office was darker than the previous simile and especially dark for an office. The pristine dark wood that was supposed to be used to decorate the room did very little to add any ambiance to it. The only source of light came from the large windows that made up the entire right side of the room. However, more than half of them were covered by thick shady purple curtains. Something crackled under my foot. It was a sketch of a boat. I sidestepped it in case he wanted it there  on floor for a particular reason.



The big boss himself was more occupied with his work than his receptionist was with her book. He stared long and hard at a parchment before him. His crisp white shirt that once belonged to a suit was unbuttoned mid-chest upward, exposing his slightly hairy chest. The only accessories that were on his person was an antique wooden pencil meticulously placed at the crook of his ear and a pair of large black reading glasses.



“Lord Cordley, sir?” I surprised him so much that he jumped higher than his receptionist. People seriously need to learn to look up once in a while.



“I am so sorry." He apologized, whipping off his glasses. "I did not notice you come in.” Hadn't he called me in a moment earlier?



“That’s alright." I said anyway. "It looks like you're having a hectic day today.” I took another glance at his work station. Papers were scattered everywhere along with sketches of blueprints and charts. They must be putting up a new building somewhere.



Lord Cordley let out a heavy sigh and leaned back into his chair, running a hand through his soft black hair. "Life is too stressful. There are simply not enough hours in the day anymore!" he groaned. "And the clients! They think they can get whatever they want. "I want this. I want that." Spoiled brats the lot of them are. I can’t get anything done with all their whining and complaining and inconsistencies!”



I was unsure as to why he was really telling me this so I didn't know how to reply. I glanced away awkwardly. He saw it too. “My apologies. I just needed someone from the outside world to listen to me for once. I have been trapped this cage all day, working. What do you have for me?”



I held up the package, a medium sized developed that the guards stamped that the gates. It was an official looking envelope, made with custom paper with a red wax sealed to the back which was hard to come by let alone produce. Someone went to great lengths to make sure this looked official. “A message for you from Lord Weller.”



"Finally! It took him long enough!" The envelope was literally snatched it from my hand before I could even hand it to him. "I have been waiting for this for about a week. Hopefully, it will be news that won't give me another throbbing headache. Thank you so much!” he beamed at me.



“You are very welcome, sir.” I handed him the confirmation paper to sign.



As I opened the door to leave, Lord Cordley's cries of happiness echoed out into the waiting room. I couldn't help but smile too, not because the receptionist gave me another nasty glare. I don't think I gave my final reason for enjoying being a Deliverer. To be able to make someone's day and see the smile of, for instance, a stressed out businessman, is a blessing in of itself. Off in the distance, I could feel a familiar warmth. My mother wanted to be Deliverer once and now I was, for her. Whenever I deliver a package, I know she is there with me, smiling, something I look forward to every day in this beautiful happily ever after.



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The forest grew eerily dark. The few rays of sunlight that managed to find a space between the thick leaves barely illuminated the floor. Seeing was close to impossible. Hiding behind a tree, a man was crouching, taking advantage of this darkness. Out of breath, he weakly wiped the pouring sweat off his forehead with his sleeve.



Just as he was telling himself that a man in his late fifties such as himself was much too old for this ridiculousness, a sound nearby made him pause. It was not a big noise but a small one; so small that a normal person would have passed it off as a trick of the mind. But this man had been through enough to know exactly what that sound meant. Despite his hopes, his chasers were still onto him. He had not lost them in the river like he had planned.



Their presence worried him deeply. He was either off his game, or they were better than he had anticipated. They had been restraining potential for a vital reason, they were waiting for when he was too worn out to continue fighting. They were patient and watchful, two very big problems.



Another sound came but this time, it was closer. Too close for comfort. The man brushed his fingers along the inside of his upper arm out of instinct. Under the fabric of his black sleeve, strange symbols were engraved into his skin. The mark was a special seal that was placed to protect his special package. In order to break it, normally, the blood of the owner or the caster must touch it during a specific chant. However, like most things, what has been bound can be unbound, with the right talent. The people pursuing him had a knack for finding people with specific talent. They were also very persuasive. He knew, if he got caught, the precious package, the hope he carried, was as good as theirs, something he could not let happen.



The man reached into the pouch of his pouch and threw a miniature ball into the air. A second later, the bomb detonated, sending a huge puff of spicy fumes in all directions. If wasn't ideal, definitely borderline childish, but it was effective nonetheless. Cries of pain told him that the stealthy spicy clouds had hit his assailants accurately. However, series of poofs told him the truth. He had been played! They were decoys! What a waste of his last spice pellet. Maybe that was was their endgame, wear him out not only physically but also resourcefully. One thing was clear, time to run.



A tree root tripped him during his flee and forced him to land awkwardly onto his ankle. Scrambling from the ground, he got to his feet only to realize he had already lost his chance to run. The sounds were coming closer. He had no choice but to take cover behind the nearest trunk.



The man's fist hit the bark out of frustration. This mission was NOT going as well as it was meant to. It was supposed to be simple. All he had to do was to take the scroll to Aria, a port city in the Land of Sea Cliffs. There, the Awakening's main leader, Goliard, and the other lieutenants would be waiting to use the scroll to help win the fight against the tyrannous Kingdom. In the end, he would not only get paid for a small job but also help the overall cause. He had assured repeatedly by his unit leader, Burnsten, that it would be a simple and secretive task. Although, fate had another idea. While he was on his way via the river, a group of stealthy attackers came out of the water and ambushed his boat. He was barely able to escape, forced to seek refuge in this heaven-forsaken forest. Fate can be very inconvenient at times.



He sighed quietly. “Can this get any worse?” he asked the skies he couldn't see.



Then it hit him. This forest… didn’t it border the City of Wood? It did. And....He had two friends there who are currently on a mission! ...Well, at least the last time he had checked which was a few days ago. Maybe he could send word for help. But how far away was he?



Trying to get a grasp of his surrounding was useless. The trees were all the same, dark, tall, thick, looming like giant pillars. Their color blend effortlessly with the shadows, making him seem as if he was staring into a void of nothingness...



And that was when he realized his dreadful mistake. For generations, villagers had called this place “the Forest of the Lost," the word "lost" was literal. Only people pure in heart were allowed to pass. Those who do not possess those qualities eventually became disoriented by the darkness like he was. The “impure” are left to wander the forest, forever at the mercy of the animals and a spirit called Lady Lighthouse, the guardian of the forest. No one truly knows of her origin except that she ultimately decides the fate of the traveler. If she finds their character unfavorable, she leaves them to the animals who are under her motherly care. On the other hand, if she saw that they are honorable, she will guide them out of the forest as a lighthouse will lead a boat safely to shore. Many have insisted that the story was only a myth told by elders of Lumberton to scare children from even considering playing in the forest and to ward off robbers from plotting to hide there. The evidence of truth lies in the carcasses of the lost and the word of the handful of survivors who lived to tell the tale. 



The man looked back into the darkness with growing uncertainty. The lady could be watching him right now for all he knew, considering whether to help him or abandon him. He rubbed the seal once again. What was he going to do? He was trapped unless he found a way out.



But... what if this is actually a blessing in disguise? If he was trapped and disoriented, then his attackers must be too. From what he had heard among traveler talk is that she is no respecter of persons, especially when it came to ninja. If he overcomes his fear, he could have the upper hand. They are too skilled and analytical to believe in folk tales. He could use that to his advantage to not only defeat them once and for all but to also get out alive in time to complete this last mission. He had been through, fought, and walked away from too much to end up dying a sitting duck. He was going to see this through. It was his duty not only to his friends and comrades but to himself. One last job. One last time to show the world what he's got. Cowards and fools get lost, but he was neither of the two.



He stood to his feet renewed with energy. He randomly chose a direction and took off into the emptiness, mentally beckoning his pursuers to chase him if they dared. He knew they would.