Chapter Six - Part One

Squad Archie

Irene Albion

The Deranged Duck was by far the funniest name for a tavern, (just imagine a duck running in aimless circles) and was so far my favourite place yet.

It was bustling with customers when we returned back from the Grim Library, and before I could even get a word out, Archie excused herself upstairs, muttering something about it being too loud and needing sleep.

The place was small, however, the Raven's spirits and the honey aroma drew my soul into a cocoon for a few blessed moments. Wooden tables adorned the sun-kissed grey walls as if they were on the tip of an artist's brush.

Helen waved me over, dressed in chef attire. It was an effort not to look so far down at the short lady. It must be cold down there. Had I not been frightened by her strict and powerful nature, I might have joked aloud.

Before I could meet Helen, Yudai intercepted me.

"Irene," he called out, "want a drink?"

I hesitated before answering. A drink as in alcohol or a liquid I could consume that was okay for a sober person such as myself? Did I appear younger than my age? Argh, I'm overthinking again.

"Sure. I'll have whatever you like best."

It was as if I could hear Helen's thoughts pierce my neck. Bad idea.

He gave me a full smile before he wandered off, hopping a little in his stride. As I approached Helen, I spotted Medina wearing a matching waiter costume to Yudai and smiled shyly my way before attending to a customer.

I sat on a stool at the table directly in front of the kitchen window across from Helen, who slid a plate of sandwiches my way.

"So," I began as I dug into the BLT, "you're a chef."

"An astute observation."

"What else don't I know about you?" I asked, wiping away at my mayonnaise—stained lips.

"For starters, you don't ask such outright questions in the middle of work," she huffed, a tad bit frustrated at the new order Medina just put in. Three orders of coffee and a portion of pesto pasta.

"Goddamnit, why did Archie have to take the bloody day off!" Cursed Helen, more eager to batter Archie than the pasta.

I envisioned Archie beside her, working in the same chef uniform, probably cursing right back at Helen at every opportunity. I wiped my face, "She's a bit harsh, isn't she?"

"Understandably so. On a battlefield, we need a direct individual to lead us. We'd be shards of floating light without her."

"So the blunt heroine has a good side?" Classic cliche book material.

"Don't they all?" muttered Helen, wiping away the blonde streaks of hair plastered on her forehead. Even all sweaty, she was undoubtedly gorgeous. "Pasta for table five."

Medina gracefully arrived at the counter, his sounds nonexistent as he meandered back to what I expected to be table five. A tall, slim man had his face buried in a book with spectacles perfectly stationed on the rim of his nose. I thought he looked more like a teacher as I sipped on the drink Yudai brought.

It was disgusting.

I exclaimed as I (very graciously, might I add) spat out the drink, orange in colour as it ran down my chin and onto my shirt. I heard Helen swear viciously before calling Yudai over for a good reprimanding. His string of apologies was hard to ignore.

"It's expired!"

No shit! It was written in black, bold letters that it was outdated. Wait, did time continue the same way it did on Earth, or were there issues attached to this too?

I accepted the tissues Medina offered and thanked him as I embarrassingly wiped away at my now orange—stained shirt. Not that I minded, I've had worse happen.

Like falling into the literal land of the dead.

"Yudai didn't mean it, he can't read very well."

"Don't go announcing something like that to our guests. You're ruining my reputation here!" Yudai nervously tugged at his multitude of piercings, which I now realized was his staple look along with his mismatched hair and cute personality.

Helen challenged, "As if you have a reputation to protect."

"You better protect yourself shortie. Sleep with one eye open tonight," threatened Yudai who pointed a fun finger at the very serious woman.

Helen barked back, "Bring it on."

Medina stuttered another apology. I've heard more apologies than I've counted stars in the night sky. And it's only been an hour.

"Never mind that," I say, wiping my hands on my skirt, "When do you guys get off work?"

---

I spent the last hour of their shifts interacting with them, asking questions, and learning more about who they all were as individuals. What their favourite food was, what they did in their spare time and whatnot. There was more to Squad Archie than I had originally thought.

For starters, Helen presumably killed a man.

She couldn't remember the details, for the last thing she recalled was a knife tenaciously held between her hands, standing before the finely dressed man who abused her and abused all his employees. Helen was forced into early labour as a child, working as a maid from the ripe age of twelve. It sounded tragic, though Helen's voice never wavered one bit as she told her story when the tavern had emptied out.

I admired her.

Yudai had a twin sister and worshipped her as if she were a deity, the holiest and perfect human. I figured this from the way his eyes expanded on the subject of family.

She reads me the best stories. She makes me the best cookies. She gives me the best hugs.

And so forth.

It was his childlike fondness for her that made me realise just how joyous a person he was. Never had I met such optimism in someone quite like Yudai, who believed in everyone and everything.

Medina was the complete opposite.

With his anxiety, Medina tried his hardest to run a normal life. As normal as an assassin's life could possibly be. His demure nature left him to wander the world alone and he turned to the company of stories. Fantasy legends were his favourite, apparently, he'd visit storytellers back in the Middle Ages to hear the myths of Greece and Rome. His ecstatic expression while listening to Yudai share his own tales comforted me. No matter where you were, stories followed.

That reminded me of my own 'story'. The one I was meant to write. The one I promised I'd finish. Writing consumed most of my life and felt just as important as breathing. I'd inhale stacks of books at a time, especially since I grew up in my cramped household of seven. It was my only escape before I left for college to pursue my passion.

Or whatever was left of it.

"Irene," began Helen, "There's a view upstairs on the roof you'd enjoy around this time. Go for it."

Encouraged by Helen, I walked upstairs, remembering the way up from the night before when Archie kindly directed me up to stare at the starry sky. It was inevitable that the memories would come crawling back about the discussions, the words, and her.

Speak of the devil.

On the rooftop ledge, she leaned, captivated by the setting sun. Archie Parthenia. A sight herself as her sun-kissed skin shone brightly and her hair flapped away in the wind. I couldn't see her face from this angle because Archie looked outward at the sky as I looked at her. Enthralled by another view of my own.

I broke the silence. "I didn't expect to see you up here."