Deru's Scars - Chapter One

Chapter One – Test of Fate

Deru sat at the wooden table in the tavern, cradling his simple cup of water between his paws.  He held his head downward, distant in his thoughts as the flames from the fireplace reflected his stoic shadow onto the wall beside him.  The occasional crackling of the wood in the fireplace seemed to interrupt the soft hum of the crowded room, which he ignored completely.

One of the barmaids walked up to him calmly, noticing him move his ears slightly in acknowledgement of her presence, which seemed to make her nervous as she spoke.

“Is the… there anything I can get you?”

He did not reply.  He did not even look up toward the lady, despite her effort to be polite.

“S… sir, is everything okay?”

He looked up at her, the shiny black fur of his ears absorbing the light as he perked them up a little, tilting his head slightly.  He thought about conversation, but did not know what to say.  He looked into the lady’s eyes and saw something more than mere desire to be his waitress; it seemed as though she wanted to talk.  He usually just talks when he needs to, rarely indulging in conversation such as this.  He still did not speak.

The lady sat down across the small table from him.

“What’s your name, wolf?”

He glared at her a little when she called him by his species.  It was insulting.

“Do not call me wolf!”

“Well, my name is Sara.  I would call you by your name if you tell me what it is.”

“I am Deru.”

Sara sat back in her chair comfortably, examining Deru’s expression.  She saw something in him that made her press the conversation.  Maybe it was curiosity.  Maybe it was boredom.

“Deru, why are you alone?”

He raised his head and looked at her squarely in the face, his black muzzle pointing at her head.  He said nothing as her question made him think about his past and how he had always been alone.  Aside from occasionally working with someone on a job, he spent most of his time by himself.  He never saw the point in making friends because he was never in one place for long- he was always moving.

Only recently had he started feeling the weight of loneliness pull at him in unfamiliar ways.  His uncertainty always made him take the silent route, avoiding friendship as well as the risk of losing those friends when he moved.  A solitary life had always been better for him than heartache of losing a friend.  It had always been better, until his recent feelings had started to surface.

“I do not wish for company.”  He replied quietly.

Sara was trying to figure some things out about him, but found it difficult from his lack of speaking.  She watched how his expression would change, how one thought would cause him to lower the outside corners of his eyes, making him appear sad.  She noticed that when he wore that expression, his breathing grew deep, and slow.  This is the expression she used to judge him, because it was the expression he wore most of the time.

“You want something, Deru.  I can see it in your hesitation.”

She then leaned forward, resting her body against her crossed arms, looking into his eyes.

“And be honest with yourself- how often do people care enough to ask?”

Deru regarded the question with objectivity.  He thought it sounded as though it should offend him, but it did not.  He could sense, somehow, that she was not trying to insult him, but to help.  He could not explain it, but he wanted to tell her everything.  He did not know where to begin, though, so he tried to keep it simple.

“What do I say?”  Deru asked softly.  The simplicity of the question revealed much to Sara, such as Deru’s inexperience in speaking about his past.

Sara smiled and reached a hand across the table toward Deru’s paw.  She touched his fur, which was just as black on his paw as it was everywhere else she saw, and then grabbed his paw in her hand, holding it softly.  He did not object to it, but he did change his expression to one of curiosity, and discomfort, which she noticed.

“You seem uncomfortable, Deru.  Should I stop?”

He considered saying yes, but remained quiet.  Her hand felt good against his paw.  Maybe it was just contact with someone that felt good, not her hand in particular, but he liked it- a lot- and found himself thinking about more.

“No, do not stop.”  He pled.

She reached across the table with her other hand, holding onto his other paw as well.  As she petted the top of his paws with her thumbs, he started moving his fingers around to feel her hands a bit more.  She smiled at Deru and sighed calmly.

“See?  I knew that there was something you wanted.  Or maybe it is something that you needed.”

Deru shivered at the revelation.  He felt the truth, and knew it was true.  He was lonely, and was tired of it.  He wanted a friend, but it could not be Sara.  He was not staying here long enough for it.

“I will be moving soon, Sara.  I will not see you again after tonight.”

She nodded in understanding, slowly pulling her hands back to herself. 

“I know, Deru, but I have one thing to say.  Do not let your solitude keep you from small moments like this.  People can be friendly without being your friend.”

He did not really understand what she meant, but nodded as it made sense in some way.  He thought on her words, trying to see how they could help.  It was one of the few things anyone had ever offered him as friendly advice and he knew it was something he would not forget.  He had always been like that- always able to remember whenever people are polite to him, never forgetting about it happening.

Suddenly he stood up and reached into his cloak, pulling something off his belt.  It was a small leather pouch.  As he was opening it, Sara also stood up and stepped closer to him, once again placing her hand on his paws.

“Do not pay, Deru.  Your kindness is enough.”

That was something that had never happened before.  He paused, but nodded slowly, closing the pouch and returning it to his belt.

“Thank you.”

He hesitated before he turned to leave, curling the back corner of his lips upward in a slight smile for Sara.  She saw this and waved goodbye, smiling as well.

“I wish you well, Deru.”

Without another word, he walked to the door and pushed it open, exiting the building.  The cool night air clung to his fur tightly, making him hold his cloak tightly around his body.  He began walking down the sidewalk toward his home.

A few blocks down, the street narrowed as the shadows from the buildings covered it completely.  Deru walked down an alley on his right, as he had taken that route many times before and knew it would cut straight to his home.  It had always been a quiet and empty area and he felt comfortable in the shadows of the street.  He felt comfortable in the shadows anywhere, as they mingled with his appearance so perfectly.  It was, after all, the reason he chose his profession.

Deru was an assassin for the Royal Court.  Nobody knew what he looked like, so people who see him on the street have no idea of his profession.  Anonymity was a necessity in his work as it was the only effective way for him to do it well.  His black fur and his ability to hide in the shadows gave him an edge over other assassins, which is how he obtained such a prestigious position.  He used to, anyway. 

Now, he is retired from assassin work.  At thirty-two years of age, he has saved up enough money to live comfortably for the rest of his life, but still moves around the country regularly- it is a lifestyle to which he is accustomed and has not felt the need to change it.  As a result, though, he has no friends, and is lonely- very lonely.  He wants that to change, but does not know how.

Near the end of the alley, a man stepped from the shadows.  Deru was a little surprised that he was noticed in the darkness, but did not express his surprise.  He merely stopped, and looked at the man.  The stranger wore a long black overcoat, and was holding a wooden club.  Deru knew he was going to try to rob him, but was not afraid.  His past gave him an advantage.

“Hey you, wolf!  Give me your money!”

Deru remained still, waiting for the man to step closer.  He knew that he was in no danger, but would only defend himself if attacked first.  Also, Deru was rather stubborn, and liked to provoke those who would take advantage of him.  In that regard, he remained silent like this to provoke the stranger.

“Did you hear me, dog?  Give me your money, or die!”

Deru released his grip on the cloak, letting it fall open, revealing his two silver daggers on either side of his leather belt.  The stranger noticed them and stepped back, obviously afraid.  At that moment, two more men stepped to the side of the stranger.

“You are outnumbered, dog.  Give us your money, and your knives, now!”

Deru still did not move.  He knew that eventually the men would try to take what they demand by force.  He was well-trained to fight and, because of the nature of these men, he felt it better to not give them a warning.  He would let them learn from their mistakes, so to speak.

The canter man, the first one to confront Deru, lunged toward him with the wooden club.  In a flash, Deru stepped aside nimbly, removed a dagger from his belt, and struck the man alongside his neck.  He fell to the ground, holding his wound as his blood flowed through his fingers.  The other two men stepped back in fear, uncertain whether they should attack or flee.  Deru stood still once again, and the once again stoic figure instilled enough fear in the two other men for them to run away.

The injured man squirmed around in agony on the ground, desperately trying to hold his blood inside his body.  Deru stepped closer and looked down at the man with a blank expression.

“Do not call me wolf!  Do not call me dog!”

Deru know he did not injure the man seriously enough to endanger his life, so was not worried about saving him.  In an unusual gesture, though, for reasons he himself could not figure out, he removed the coin pouch from his belt and dropped it by the stranger.

“See to your wounds, stranger.”

Deru walked away and disappeared once again into the shadows.

At the end of the street, a large house stood before him.  It seemed to round backward on either side, which it did, his house being a circular structure with a round courtyard in the middle.  Revealing a key from his belt, he unlocked the front door and stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him.  The door was unusually loud, which is how he preferred it, for safety.

The entry room was one of five large rooms, each separated by old wooden doors as well, just like the front door.  As an assassin, Deru knew the benefits of loud doors and how they would warn him of an intruder.  On the walls were paintings of landscapes, which he had just purchased from a local vendor.  There was a large chair, beside which was a small table, which were sitting a few feet from a large, immaculate brick fireplace. 

Deru walked past the fireplace, closer to the center of his house, and opened the door to the courtyard.  He left this door open as he walked through, to the center of the courtyard, the ground of which was a lustrous green yard, where he sat cross-legged.  He unfastened his belt and wrapped the end of it around his paw, laying the rest of it on the ground beside him, at which point he laid onto his back and stared up at the sky.

Deru thought about the waitress and what she had said earlier.  He recalled her words… “Do not let your solitude keep you from small moments like this.  People can be friendly without being your friend.”  He rolled the words over and over in his mind, rearranging them for many meanings, but always they fell back to this order.  He wondered.

Did the words guide his actions in the alley?  He was not thinking about the injury he gave the stranger- he was thinking about why he gave away his money.  He still could not figure out what made him do that, but shrugged the confusion aside.  For whatever reason he did it, he felt good about it. 

Deru closed his eyes as the darkness of the sky above lulled him into a restful state.  Hearing those words over and over in his thoughts, he eventually fell asleep.