THE LOCKET

Beads of sweat appeared on Alistair's forehead.

" a writer has no use for that" The voice spat with venom " hand it over" she added, her voice tight

Alistair awoke, his breath ragged as he struggled to catch his breath. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, his body stinging with unease.

The dream again. The woman …the locket. He sighed loudly.

He stood up and stumbled towards the balcony, the city was still bustling as torch lights flickered. The scent of rancid grease and soured pork filled the air making his stomach growl with displeasure.

He reached out to his pocket slowly bringing out the gold cladded locket. A mix of Scotland's ancient treasure and England's finest metallic mastery.

Sleep had abandoned him ever since he got his hands on this useless piece. Not entirely useless but enough to drag his lazy writing self out into the world he wished to hide from.

He sighed, looking down at the city with cold disgust. Only a stupid man wouldn't notice the shady deals that ran the night!

He glanced at the locket one more time, his pupils contracting as the gold flickered with the city's touch.

He had received this gift on a busy day when he was engrossed in his new art. To craft an ancient story enough to win a medal and feed his scorched appearance but instead, the locket appeared on his desk, covered in an envelope with a letter accompanying it.

" Your mother's gift to you. I haven't had the chance to give it to you since her death. Keep it save- mountain of regards, your uncle"

He would have tossed the damn thing into the trash can if he had known it was from an uncle but …his mother ? The woman he never got to meet? She.. kept a gift for him ?

He sighed softly as he slid the locket into his pocket whilst going through his works. He had just wanted to keep it safe as it was his mother's only gift to him …but things took a darker turn when a hooded lady approached him asking for a certain gold brimming locket.

" I have no such thing" he had answered as he walked away, carrying his only piece of survival- his laptop and an old book featuring thousands of plots yet to be told.

her heels echoed along the cobbled streets, the crunching of the gravel beneath her feet reminding him that he belonged under her shoes where the city would walk on him like an insignificant piece of rubbish, " a writer has no use for that !" Her voice echoed throughout the night, scaring the night owls into exile.

He paused his movement, the words reverberating through him. Who was she ? And …how did she know ? No one had seen him with the locket at noon so how…did she know?

He felt a cold metallic object pressed to the crook of his neck and the weight of a woman pressed on him. His heart sank as his temperature dropped to the lowest centigrade.

" Who are ..you ?" His voice trembled, panic nestling in the pit of stomach.

The metal clicked, silence consuming him.

No! He wasn't going to die this way ! He was yet to complete his book and he wouldn't die now !

He grasped onto the lady's hand, twisting it. She shrieked as the gun fell off her hands. His laptop dropped to the ground, the sound of a broken piece slashing at his very soul.

He immediately kicked the woman, throwing her off balance as she landed softly to the ground.

He caught onto the gun and pointed it at her , shocking the lady. Ofcourse, in order to survive in such a harsh place, he couldn't just be a writer right ?

" You …" the lady's eyes widened, multiple emotions flickering in her eyes " how could you do that?" She asked, pointing at him.

He glanced at the woman, his trembling gaze replaced by a cold one, " I will do the question and you answer…but first, take off your hood" he said, his voice chilling.

" You .."

" Take off your hood" he cut her off, his hands wrapped tightly around the gun.

" Why would I…"

" Take it off" he bit out, pointing the gun firmly towards her.

The lady gritted her teeth and pulled down the hood and her face mask. Her gaze flickering with a dangerous light.

Alistair's breath hitched, a look of surprise flickering onto his expression. She had a blonde hair of the thickest shade, a piercing hazel eye and a pink lips.

She looked too…frail and innocent for an assassin.

" Who are you?" He asked, his gaze expectant.

Eleanor stood up, her gaze fixed onto the man whose gun was pointed at her. She had to take the locket back with her if she wanted to survive the night tortures.

" Hand over the locket" she said through gritted teeth.

Alistair's forehead creased, why was she so fixated on the locket ? What was so important about it ?

He brought out the locket, " i would hand it over if you tell me what this is to you" he lied.

Eleanor scoffed, this was England. Did he really think she would believe his lies ?

She packed a handfull of sand, looking at the locket like her life depended on it. If only she could grab it and run.

She whisked the sand at him but he was fast enough to dodge it, slipping the locket right into his pocket. He stumbled backwards but before he could steady his steps, the lady had already disappeared.

" Damn it" he muttered under his breath, looking around in search of her figure.

He snapped out of his thoughts …

He wrapped the locket in his palm, his gaze searching for any clue, " what could this be ?" He whispered.

He let out a low frustrated growl and threw the locket onto the bed. He had to find that woman no matter what, whoever she was!

Suddenly he heard a clinking sand. More like a chime. He gaze darted around, searching for the source of the sound .

They locked onto the locket and his eyes widened, the locket …had changed it's shape !

Alistair stood there, shock written all over his expression. The locket had changed into a key with short thorn like edges.

He grabbed it from the bed, his gaze scanning through the piece. He fished out his uncle's letter from the cupboard beside his bed lamp. His eyes scanning for any clue.

Just the same words, his mother's gift, mountain of regards….he paused, his gaze fixed on the word.

Mountain of regards …mountain..Mountain of regards.

Mount ten Aufrigad? His eyes widened, a bewildered look laced on his face. It was a clue but to what?

Mount ten Aufrigad was a new book shore reserved exclusively for rich bookworms who were willing to spend a fortune for money. Even as a writer, he wasn't rich enough to afford such a place nor acquire the knowledge that condensed within.

A smile slowly crept to his face as an idea flashed before him. He already bought his pass several weeks ago, it was time to reclaim it.

He grabbed onto the gold rimmed key, stuffed it in his pocket and stormed out of the door. The apartment he rented was hidden out of plain sight. Cheap, lowly and unkempt but that was the lot he could afford.

The cradled space made his face wrinkle in unease. He was yet to write a good book that could get him free women and a week of good life.

He bumped into someone along the way, an emptiness enveloping him. He raised his eyebrows. Well, welcome to England.

" Watch were you are going" the man said, not bothering to turn to look at him.

Alistair smirked, he wasn't new to England. Petty tricks doesn't work on him.

He immediately grabbed onto the man, turning him around by his coat, grabbing his tie in brute force and forcing him to kneel.

The man gasped, his face flushed red with fear.

Alistair outstretched his hand, amusement laced on his face. " What you have stolen please" he demanded, his neck crooked to the side.

The man's eyes darted from Alistair to his pocket as he immediately fished out the gold rimmed key he had stolen. " Here" he said, returning the key, his hands trembling.

Allistair smiled snatched the key and mouthed a thank you. He let the old man go and watched him scamper off in the speed of light.

He Flicked his tongue, running his hand against his hair in frustration. The key had changed again, this time it was back to being a locket.

He let out and exasperated sigh, whatever this was, it's engines seems to have a trigger that makes it change at will.

He slid it back into his pocket, keeping his hands in place. He asn't going to take any chances.

He walked few blocks and came upon a huge door. It was made of mangrove wood, a thick ply wood serving as a decorator at its edges coupled with silver patterns.

The smell of mangrove and metal invaded his nostrils, dark, luxury and edgy.

A rippling sense of unease overwhelmed him, his back stiff as he stood in place. He turned around almost immediately. It was pitch black, a perfect time for a massacre.

"Too quiet"he whispered, his brows gathered. Once it turned quiet in England, it meant one thing, you are being followed.

He smiled softly, held onto the iron bar and banged it against the door.

A muffled yelp erupted from within accompanied with a slight frustrated groan.

Allistair grinned, he was in there! Great, that was goodnews.

The door was slightly opened, a beautiful black haired woman perked through, her chest bare of clothing.

" A writer?" She asked, more like a demeaning statement. " What? Want to write nudity?" She asked, her voice cracking with disdain.

He forced a smile, writers like him who wrote fantasy were not really appreciated. They were deemed crazy for imagining the impossible. Finding love was awfully difficult in this case.

" I wish to see Kieran stone, the merchant" he said, his blood running cold as he felt a piercing gaze on his back.

He swallowed, fixed his gaze on the woman who hesitated for a bit before opening the door. He stumbled inside and immediately pressed the door close, sliding the two bolts in place.

" What …what is he doing here?" A familiar voice rang out.

Allistair froze, a faint ache tugging at his heart. He turned around only to be met with the surprised gaze of a woman.

Lila Blackwell, the painter.

His heart sank, she laid stack naked under Kieran's embrace. Her milky body flushed from earlier entanglement. She had a long dark hair with a piercing blue eyes. The one thing that attracted him to her.

He swallowed, the bitter taste of jealousy curling at his tongue.

" Miss Lila, you are here" he said, his eyes watery yet cold.

Kieran paused, slid off the bed, his naked frame glaring directly at Allistair.

" Jesus, cover that shit up" Allistair said, looking away instantly.

Kieran grinned, his dark hair curled backwards, pricks of sweat smeared on his skin . He waved his hands at the two ladies, " let's continue later" he said dismissively draping a robe around his body.

Lila slid off the couch, covering her body with a blanket and want upstairs.

The other lady followed behind her after winking at Kieran who flashed her a sweet smile in return.

Allistair swallowed as he watched Lila's frame. A bitter smile spreading across his lips. To think that she has rejected him on the grounds of chastity.

" You like the blue eyed" Kieran's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

" Unfortunately, only rich people get to have a taste" he replied with a slight, forced smile.

" C'mon, I can tell you are dying inside. No need for fake smiles"

" I don't feel a thing" he dropped, his gaze fixed on the wine bottle just an arms length away from the couch which he leaned on.

" You owe me" he added, not giving Kieran a chance to reply.

Kieran smiled faintly, his brows slightly raised as he poured a glass of red wine for Allistair, " I remember, it was about time you came" he said, handing the glass to him.

Allistair's gaze fell on the glass, hesitant but curious. Such an expensive wine should be tasted by him.

" I need your help getting into Ten Aufrigad" he dropped, taking a slight sip. His eyes widening at the sweetened liquor.

Kieran paused, his brows slightly furrowed, " why?"

Allistair's glass hung mid-air, his gaze landing on Kieran, " because I saved you from getting duped by Tyron's men" he deadpanned, his voice distant and detached.

" Don't take out your love problems on me" Kieran dropped, his expression darkened.

Allistair exhaled sharply, "I …"

The door was harshly banged, interrupting him.

Kieran frowned, " don't tell me you brought visitors?"

Allistair flashed him a guilty smile and Kieran exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

" Are you really ….just a writer?"

Allistair's lips twitched, no! Here, in this city, everyone was a born fighter. One wrong move and you are out!

"We need to leave through the back door, I can't have my house smeared crimson" Kieran pressed out and walked away. His frame slipping into a small pathway, just few steps away the sitting room.

" Coming?" He asked

" Right behind you" Allistair whispered, his breath hot and ragged.

Kieran trembled, startled at how close he clung to him. He felt his hot breath graze his skin, his body reacting weirdly. He paused, flashed Allistair a quick glance and walked ahead.

They arrived at a dark tunnel, it was a secret path beneath his mansion. It was like he knew one day, he would need to escape from God knows who.

" You left the ladies?" Allistair asked, worried that they might get hurt.

" Hm. Sluts? Replaceable. Wouldn't risk my life for any" he shrugged, brushing off the black web from his path. Little dirt clinging to his cloth.

" Aufrigad is not all about books. far more than what meets the eyes" Kieran breathed out, forcing his way out of the tunnel. The huge city welcoming his filthy appearance.

" What do you keep there?" Alistair asked, his hands moving to his pocket. His eyes widened as he found his pocket empty.

How?...he had been very careful, he couldn't have lost it to anyone. Unless…it fell off.

He turned around, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach as he saw nothing but pitch black tunnel.

" Looking for this?" Kieran asked , holding up the locket which was chiming into a different shape.

Allistair froze, " how ..?"

Kieran smirked, " you are not the only one with a secret Mr Allistair" he grinned, throwing the locket back at him.

" That explains why they are after you"

" What do you know?" Allistair asked and Kieran paused.

" nothing exciting except for the fact that I dropped the locket off with you" he shrugged like it meant nothing.

Allistair froze, " you..?" He asked, his eyes wide with shock. How?

" They are after me …." He paused and looked at him, " and now, they are after you"

" You are the uncle? What do you know about my mother" Allistair asked, his blood boiling with questions yet unanswered.

" Nothing"

" But .."

" Shush…we need to find a safe shelter" he said and walked into the night.

An old car sat along the rail, covered with a trampoline. It's tyres were smeared with England's black coal and rancid grease.

" I happen to know where to go" Kieran added and pulled off the trampoline from the car. He opened the door and slid in.

Allistair stood there, his hands wrapped tightly against the locket which had tumbled his life overnight.

He didn't want to hold onto something that wasn't his to have. Although his life was not perfect. A total mess of ups and downs, he would rather write something that people would trash him for. Fight in Tyron's arena and make a little cash for food.

" Why should I trust you?" He asked, his gaze fixed on the figure who was looking at him, gaze filled with calculation.

" You don't. Get in the car. We don't have much time"

" And If I don't?"

Kieran smacked his tongue, rolling his eyes with frustration. " Then stay here and let them get to you. They would kill you even before you get a chance to give them the key" he spat, his voice burning with frustration.

" What is this key? Why did you drop it with me?"

" Want to know? Get in!"

A bang cut through the air, loud, terrifying. The bullet landed on the car and was thrown off the next second leaving Allistair in shock.

" Shit" Kieran cursed, stepping on the gas pedal. " Get in!" He barked.

Allistair acted on impulse and slid into the car. His gaze flying behind him.

His heart sank as he saw groups of black cladded men behind them. He caught sight of a familiar figure. It was her! The blonde who had attacked him the previous day. She was tailing him!

He turned his gaze to where they were speeding to. His heart poduing loudly.

What did he get himself into?

" My uncle…..

" He is dead and you might be next"

" I didn't ask for this!" He barked, shaken by the men he saw.

He had never been engaged in a real duel that involved life or death situation until the day he got his hands on this locket.

" fate doesn't chose who to mess with"

Allistair's nose flared. Fate? There was nothing as fate but his doing.

" You gave me this" he gritted out, fishing the ever- changing locket out of his pocket. " I didn't ask for this"

" You'd rather be an insignificant writer than take up your inheritance?"

Allistair scoffed, inheritance? At the expense of his life ? He would rather laze around, getting rejected by pretty ladies, fighting in boxing arenas and ending the day In his slumpy apartment.

" I expected more" Kieran sneered with disdain.

Allistair's anger faltered, slowly replaced with curiosity" My uncle, what did he say to you?"

Kieran paused, his gaze landing on Allistair's reflection on his front mirror.

" Nothing. Just your name, the letter and the locket"

Alistair sneered, " he really trusted you" he said, his hands clenching beside him.

"I'm a merchant. I would do anything for money. Your uncle knew that"

" How …"

" That's all I know" Kieran cut him off. " No more questions"

The ride to doom was quiet with only the crushing sound of gravel and the splatter of water along the road.

Allistair stared at the locket, examining the object. He let out a self deprecating smile. When it puts his life on the line, his uncle remembered him? Kicked him out of the family house the moment his parents died, amassing his father's fortune and suddenly…this?

His life had originally revolved around three things: Recognition, survival and vengeance.

Be recognised for his work, survive on his meagre earnings, pay back his uncle tenfold. But now, ….he was busy running away from people who sought after his life for a damn locket!

" We are here" Kieran's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He nodded and stepped out of the car, his gaze falling on a small building. It had blue rings of lighting dancing around the roof, a name beaming with lights " Exes and cues"

" A bar?" He asked.

Keiran shrugged, " I might be rich but I can't get you into Aufrigad"

Allistair squinted, his brows gathered with worry. " Then who"

" Caedmon, Caedmon Poe" he breathed out, the name hung heavy in the air as both fixed their gazes on the bar flashing with a blue ring.