Take One - Action

Sunlight crept into the single-roomed cabin, lighting up the ground right beside the straw-padded bed. On the bed lay a sleeping girl. Her long blond hair was neatly tied into a bun so it wouldn't turn out a mess when she woke up. She wore a simple white cloth as a dress as if she had no other clothes to wear.

Beside her sat a man. He had an impressive build that could be seen clearly through his thick hunter's clothes. He had taken off his straw hat and put it aside on a table, so his bald head shined from the indirect sunlight. With the large scar on his face, it was odd to see a worried expression as he looked at the girl while she slept.

The man sighed. "This is possibly the most eventful my life had been since my youth," he muttered under his breath.

The girl shifted slightly in the straw and moaned. "Da… mien…"

The man hovered his palm over her's body for a moment, hesitating, but eventually softly rested his hand on her shoulder, as if to comfort her. She had been restless the entire night as he healed her bullet wounds.

"That Daniel… He's gonna get some harsh questioning once I get down there."

Slowly, the sleeping girl's consciousness came back to her. Through her eyelids she saw the glow of sunlight, telling her it was time to wake up. But before she opened her eyes, a shocking pain went through her body as she tried to move a finger. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing frightened, bright blue eyes.

The man came in closer, surprised and relieved.

"Thank god! You're finally awake! Just rest for now and don't move too much, okay? I've healed your wounds, but there are some after-effects."

The girl calmed down and looked at him. "Who are you?"

He stood up from the bed and bowed to Angel. "Hello. I'm basically a supervisor of this region. My name is Arthur. Nice to meet you, young lady." The man stood back straight and looked at the girl. "And you?"

"I am Angel," the girl replied, "and you said you were the one who healed my wounds?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"Then I must thank you. I am unsure if I would have been able to survive if it were not for your help."

"You're welcome."

There was a short pause before Angel continued.

"So, did you see a boy around my age as well?" She asked.

Arthur's expression changed as if he remembered something. "Yeah, he's downstairs. Do you want to talk to him? You don't have to if you don't want to."

Angel sighed in relief. It sounded like he was alive and well. "It is okay. I need to rest, anyway."

"Well, I gotta go take care of some business," Arthur told Angel as he started making his way to the door. "You just rest. Try to move a little and stretch too, but don't push yourself too hard."

"Sure. I will be fine by myself. Please do not worry about me."

"Then, hope you get better. I've prepared some clothes for you if you feel like you're ready to move around."

Arthur opened the door and closed it softly behind him. The room once again fell silent, with only the sound of the cool autumn breeze traveling through the barred windows.

Lying back, Angel tried to move her arms and legs to stretch them. And as she continued to regain her mobility, she thought back to the events that had occurred yesterday, or, technically, one and a half centuries in the future.

She was quite thankful that it only took her two tries to escape those school shooters, but it was unfortunate that she had missed the chance to analyze that time period a bit more. Still, it only matters that she had finally found Damien. All she had to do now was to escape back home without those people catching them first.

But what exactly were their pursuers? If they had always been there in the shadows as Angel was jumping across timelines in search of Damien, then that means they were after her. But what if they were just after him, and this was their first time meeting her?

Angel continued to ponder about who the mysterious four people were, going through her memories of her experiences in Yathaw, Nomia, Hearsh, and so on. Were they lurking in the alleys of the flooding slums of Repolica? No, not likely, since it would have been impossible to follow her without coming out into the bright streets. Then might they have been hidden in the large crowds of Miadnar? Maybe, though it would have been hard for them to keep track of her too.

Angel must have been lost in her thoughts for a pretty long time because when she finally decided to go out to check the cabin's surroundings, the edge of the window's shadow was only half as far as it was when she had first woken up. In addition, she could move her arms and walk fairly easily now, if she ignored her sore muscles.

On a bench in the corner of the room was the set of clothing Arthur had prepared for her. They seemed to be designed for men, but Angel was grateful for that. She had heard that women's clothing of this time period were quite uncomfortable, especially if she needed to run or engage in combat.

Even after tying a knot at her waist and rolling the pants up, they were far too large for Angel. In the end, she simply ripped the pants into shorts and put on the dress she had been wearing when she was sleeping. Hopefully, Arthur wouldn't be too upset with a pair of ripped pants, but either way, he would forget once she performs her first rewind.

Outside, the cabin looked just as crude as it did inside. The house was surrounded by forest, but a path did lead to what looked like a small town in the distance. Arthur had probably gone to the town, so Angel decided to explore the place a little and look for Damien.

To the side of the cabin stood a carriage, and beyond that Angel could see a makeshift horse stable. Behind the cabin was a large pile of heaps of hay with a trapdoor hidden under it, but all Angel noticed while she explored was the hay.

Angel was walking around the edge of the forest when the hay was pushed aside and the trapdoor was opened, letting out a creak which startled Angel from her attention at some flowers. A figure walked out from under the house, and the question of the whereabouts of Damien was finally answered.

Angel jogged excitedly to the trapdoor, thinking Damien would be following behind Arthur. But she stopped in her tracks when she saw the expression on Arthur's face.

"That little fucker! He keeps crying sorry, but he never even gives any useful information!"

Arthur threw his hat onto the ground in frustration and sat down heavily on one of the hay bales. When he looked up and made eye contact with Angel, his expression completely changed and his face lit up.

"Angel! Looks like you're doing good! Just don't push yourself too hard."

Angel nodded slowly. Arthur patted the hay beside him, motioning for her to go sit beside him. "You should sit down and conserve some energy for now," he continued.

Angel wasn't listening. She didn't even hear anything that came out of Arthur's mouth. All her mind was focused on was Arthur's hands, soaked with red liquid. All she could see was Arthur's shirt, covered in splotches of red blood.

Angel ran towards Arthur, who smiled. She didn't see that though, as she immediately ran past him and down the stairs through the trapdoor and into the cellar.

Arthur stood up in surprise and called after her. "Hey! Where are you— You don't need to—"

Still, Angel didn't hear him. Because now, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could only see the silhouette of a figure slouching in front of the wall.

A large hand softly covered her eyes. He had wiped the blood off his hands, but Angel could still taste what was left over. "There, there, Angel," Arthur whispered softly, holding her close to him, "I'm sorry you have to see this. You don't need to worry about him anymore. I'll be the one to take care of him for you."

But Arthur's hand didn't cover her vision perfectly. Angel started to breathe heavily as her heart rate quickened. Behind the gaps between Arthur's fingers sat Damien, in chains. He only wore a thin pair of shorts over his bruised legs. His chest was covered in large and deep scratches. His face was beaten to the point where he was barely recognizable. And in that darkness, nobody could tell if this weakened Damien was alive, or dead…