Pale artificial light crept into the workshop through the front door. Small particles of dust lazily danced through the morning rays. My heavy head was nestled in my folded arms. I peeked up towards the light and looked around. In my hand was a metal file, still held tightly. How long was I asleep?
But more importantly, why was the door open? Had Rinne snuck out? That was the only logical answer I could come up with; after all, she is the only person I cannot hear make a step.
*Tap Tap Tap*
My ears perked up at the sudden sound. Footsteps, a pair made with heels.
*Tap Tap Tap*
Each step was timed and calculated. The rhythm of the heels tapping the metal floor was a message. One that told me that all was all right.
"Margaret…" I lowered my head back to the warmth of my arms. "Why are you here?"
I felt a hand caress my back. It gently crawled up, sending a jolt down my spine. It was weird, but comforting. Once the hand reached my neck, I felt its icy fingers tickle my skin. The hand then gently combed through my hair as a voice spoke.
"Why else would I be here?" She said, her voice neither sweet nor bitter. "I have a job to give you, but," Her hand reached into my arms, a lavender scent following as her cold fingers clamped down onto my nose. "I thought I told you to rest."
She squeezed tightly, forcing me to lift my head in a panic. The moment she let go was the moment I saw the merciless glare in her eyes. Even the warmth of her smile failed to hide the feelings that she harbored.
Who could blame her? I pretty much rejected her idea of running away. I chose to chase the shadow—the clues I've been running from all this time. Not to mention that I left her to follow Muller to a club, which I have no memory of. This only means that she's done playing mother now.
"You are still so hopeless." She let out a sigh.
Was I wrong?
She walked towards me, keeping her eyes fixed on me. "You look exhausted-oh?" Margaret's attention was drawn to the table on which I was sleeping. "I see why."
Ten spiral daggers, made of brass, lay in disarray next to the Steam-nade.
"The daggers," Margaret said. "Those were the ones that you made for Rinara."
"Concept, yes." I said, "Rinne holds the last one that was made for her in particular. These…these are made for Rinne."
"I guess giving her those gloves would lead to this." She smiled, the anger in her eyes fading into what I assumed was loneliness. "All it took was one girl to accomplish something I spent years trying to do."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, you are a hopeless fool." She then picked up the Steam-nade and closely examined it. "But even Sara? What good does it do to arm a child of her age?"
"Relax," I took the launcher from her hands and opened the revolving cylinder. Inside the slots were flashbangs I've built. "It's nonlethal."
"…"
I closed the cylinder and gently placed Sara's weapon onto the table. "Look, Margaret," I said, taking a deep breath. "Not everything can be solved diplomatically. I can't just run around and capture everyone we deem the villain. Some people cannot be saved from their wickedness."
"Do you take me for a fool?" Margaret muttered. I turned to face her. Her hands were balled into fists, and blood dripped from her palms. I couldn't lift my face higher to see her face.
Why, when I can imagine the pain she's experiencing just by looking at me.
"Golden Steam, look at me."
Hesitantly, I did as she asked. Her lips quivered, and her eyes glistened as if a battle between sadness and anger engulfed them.
"Killing isn't the issue I have. You have no idea how many people I've had to kill." She said, putting a hand to her chest. The blood staining her work clothes. "The problem I have is you."
Me?
"Each time I watch you waver…each time it looks as if you are seeing a ghost, you reach for your weapon. Muller told me the details of the night you found Sara. You acted just as I had feared. When unchecked, you lose yourself. Ludicium Dei, that was the fake name you gave yourself as you killed that man, wasn't it? What are you, some edgy kid?"
"…"
"You are the light that protects us. If you fall from your tower built from your delusions, you aren't the only one who will pay the price. This burden…you chose to harbor it."
"I chose to harbor this burden, huh? Do you really think I wanted to take on this role? You think I wanted to kill Rinara?"
"No," Margaret raised her hands. "You chose to." She clapped them three times. "Sweetie, come in now?"
"You sure?" A fresh voice I had never heard before asked as a figure stood in the doorway.
A woman with caramel-colored skin came into view. She was wearing an oversized red hoodie with white jeans. Her brown eyes were shielded by a pair of glasses that, from a glance alone, I could tell were fake. Long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail, the ends curling up. What caught my attention was the bandage around her left hand. They were fresh, and something in my chest made it seem like I'd seen them before.
"I feel like I just walked into something private." The woman then brought a hand to her mouth and muttered something, thinking nobody could hear her. "How pathetic can one man get?"
She spoke as if she knew me. But I have never seen her face around. Given her attire, she's from either the Middle Rings or the Upper Layer. No sane person from the core would walk around without something to protect them from the steam vents.
Besides her looks…she was suspicious. She reminded me of how Kelly looked the day I met her, dressed in that strange-looking getup that shielded her wound on her chest.
"…"
My eyes drifted from her face to her chest. Was she brainwashed as well?
"She isn't, Golden Steam," Margaret said. Why was she calling me by my title in front of a stranger I had never met? Turning to face Margaret, she waved her hand dismissively. "Sorry, but I have already checked her body. Shame you don't get to have a taste."
"A taste of what?" I said defensively. "All I am doing is my job."
"Sure sure. But I'll leave her in your hands." Margaret made her way towards the door. "She knows who you are thanks to a drunken night in town. You should be more careful." With that, she closed the door, leaving me alone with the woman who wore a practiced smile and eyes that pitied me.
"Ugh…everything is just out to get me…" I said, scratching my head. "What's your name?"
"…" The woman stared at me. Her eyes studied me. With a hand brought to her mouth, "What a letdown." She sighed before smiling once more. "Anya. It's nice to meet you, Axien, or would you rather have me call you Golden Steam?"
"Axien will do." It's not as if that name means anything to me, anyway. Just something that will be soon forgotten once I find and save Kelly.
"So," Anya said, looking at the table of tools. "You made these?" She approached the table carefully, looking at each dagger.
"Naturally." I turned around and made my way towards the stairs. There was no time for small talk with a rude woman like this. "Come on, we can discuss the details upstairs."
As I ascended the stairs, I heard the faint sound of metal scraping across the table. I glanced back out of the corner of my eye. She looked at me with a smile while shoving something into her hoodie.
How subtle. Leave it to Margaret to leave the oddballs to me.
"So, who is this, Axien?"
When I got upstairs, I found that Rinne had already woken. She took the liberty of waking Sara, who slept on the couch while she moved from the nest she had made on the floor. I led Anya to the couch and headed to the kitchen to make drinks for everyone. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Rinne finally spoke.
"I was aware you had a daughter, but not one this cute," Anya responded, practically shutting down Rinne's question.
"I'm not his daughter."
"Oh? Then why are you here with this man?"
"Big sis is here because she has nowhere else to go," Sara spoke up.
"And what of you?"
"Mister saved me."
"Saved you?" I could hear Anya mutter under her breath.
Once I finished making the drinks, I gave one to each of them before sitting next to Anya. She slid next to me, a flowery smell accompanying her. It was different from what Margaret usually smelled like, but it smelled familiar.
"You are looking more deranged by the minute—!"
"You can shut up and drop the act." I flicked Anya's forehead. She covered her mouth.
"What?" A brief look of disbelief swept across her face. "Care to explain what you mean?" I reached for her hoodie and shoved my hand into the pocket. "H-hey, where are you touching!?"
I pulled out a brass spiral dagger. She looked away, adjusting the glasses on her face. "I don't know what kind of stunt you are trying to pull, but stop it. All you are thinking of doing is getting yourself killed."
She quietly sipped on the drink I had given her. Was she seriously thinking that I wouldn't notice? But she hasn't made an excuse for her actions either; keeping an eye on her might be the best course of action.
Still, I have to give credit where it's due; she has courage to try and do that. Though something tells me that there's more to it. What was she hoping to gain? Was she trying to ditch requesting my help and tackle her issue herself?
"Are you just gonna let her stay?" Rinne was the first one to speak up. "She stole something that belongs to you, and you are just letting her sit there and drink?"
"Rinne." I glared at her. She let out an audible gulp and sat back down. I felt bad for abusing her trauma like this, but she needed to stay quiet for a moment. Her mouth has proven to lead to trouble. I looked down at Sara, who simply tilted her head. Then I turned back to Anya. "Your job, what is it?"
Anya looked up, surprised. She muttered, "This is embarrassing," before taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry for taking the dagger. But to your question: I want you to look into—no, I want you to kill someone for me."