The Trigger

By Amanjit S. Babra

Deep within the tumultuous kingdom of Soneek, a young blacksmith named Trigger makes a living off his God-given talent to create incredibly powerful swords. Despite his occupation, Trigger is constantly annoyed that the code of his warrior-driven world causes needless death for the sake of useless ideals such as honour and destiny. But his careless attitude for his own future is changed as Trigger discovers that his life has already been placed within a twisted history of fate ready to repeat itself.

When a cloaked intruder suddenly runs through his shop one day Trigger is led into interesting encounters with a mysterious young lady that he soon finds himself filled with desire for. He later discovers she is Iflana Corlusia, daughter of the darkest force on the planet. His attempts to be with Iflana despite her aristocratic class, only lead him to imprisonment where his lust for her grows as rapidly as his hatred for the world around him. But when Iflana begs for Triggers help to escape from her own world, he is unwittingly propelled into a fierce life and death clash driven by nothing else than his overwhelming desire for her.

The Trigger is an intriguing fantasy story of a mans journey through insanity as he battles against becoming the one thing he hates most a murderous warrior.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781475972696

Amanjit S. Babra

Amanjit S. Babra is a poet, illustrator, philosopher, photographer, video editor, and lucid dreamer. He holds a degree in philosophy and currently lives in Ontario, Canada.

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Copyright © 2013 by Amanjit S. Babra.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ISBN: 978-1-4759-7268-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-7303-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-7269-6 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013901349

iUniverse rev. date: 04/05/2013

CONTENTS

Author’s Note

PART I

Honour In Soneek

1 Still Water

2 Striker’s Task

3 Iflana

4 Ladies Of Shar

5 Opportunity

6 Royal Cartel Banquet

7 Chicks

8 Kalcrum

9 Sinick

PART II

Reverence Of The Sinick

10 Motherhood

11 Tears Of A Dragon

12 Village Life

13 Fly

14 Lethios Castle

15Corlusia

PART III

Nights Of Jiko Lét Cree

16 Ramshar

17 Arbiter Of Time

18 Winter And Summer

19 Jiko Lét Cree

20 Teré’on Hotel

21 Killer Soneek

22 Oracle

PART IV

Torture Of The Battlefield

23 Location

24 The Demon Sinick

25 Kill Count

26 Engross

27 Replenishing Sinick

28 Corlusia Effect

29 Trigger’s Sword

30 Swift And Fair

31 The Cold

32 The Line

PART V

Our Titles

33 Hesitation

34 Birth

35 Shadow

36 Destiny

37 Forever Dance In Dark Mountain

About The Author

Dearest Lover,

Wickedest Witch,

You are my life kept awake,

You are my nightmare come true…

I live for you, I live in you,

I will not die, I will kill,

How sensual was your touch? Women evil is your touch… .

I am the King, but you are my Queen,

Share our Hearts, Share the evil,

No matter how loyal the pawn, I would kill them all for you,

Killed enemies, killed friends,

I will not die, I will kill,

Oh how I’d stab into you, Stab Stab into you… ohhh how badly I’d stab into you… . Is that why you make me BLEeeED… .

Ha c oldrlloXCoi5r6zRLUk2pssSS0oii01S1iaA

—THe Tri t 0 : O

AUTHOR’S NOTE

T he story of The Trigger was first written in my later teens. It was the third novel I had written that was apart of the Striker universe . Many of the tales I had written before it, and stories I enjoyed, revolved around the main character being a warrior. This was an attempt to write a story about a man who, very much unlike me and my beloved previous heroes, despised warrior-hood but was forced into the most warrior-filled world I had ever written about up to that point. He knew the warrior code as shared in all worlds of the Striker universe yet he was too careless to even title himself as beyond a mere blacksmith. He starts off as concerned with little more than self survival, but with what his fate would have in store would make even survival a great task. He was meant to be a low life carried to the top of the world, but in a way he hates and in the world he hates. The Trigger has both very violent battle scenes with strong language especially in the second half of the book, and sexually erotic scenes somewhere around the later part of the middle, but in the end it is about an ill-fated love. There are many deep and meaningful themes to this that act as a set-up for what was written as my second novel The Glitch , but please take this low-budget novel with some sympathy. Do not expect the most well written story. It is geared toward easy-reading adult literature. Its appeal is a great story, filled with intense subject matter, and exciting action sequences, allow it to be just that. Though this story is apart of what I had mentioned earlier as the Striker universe , with small cameos of characters from other novels and allusions here and there, no other novels or stories are required to enjoy this one as it is, for what it is; the story of man turned monster by the influence of lust and evil by his own love, his own Rain .

PART I

HONOUR IN SONEEK

1

STILL WATER

I woke up and forced myself downstairs to sit near the furnace. I often woke up in the middle of the night to look at it… Nights were still cold that time of the year but I didn’t come down to start a fire. I sat on the stool and stared at the wooden pail of water I used. The well was just down the street from my shop. My father always told me to use water from a well. He told me regular faucets would ruin the process. To this day I don’t really know why. I used to think it had to do with the impure copper piping or something like that. Still my father refused to use tap water even if we bought our own water purifier, and it’s not like he’d ever drink out of an old dirty well. Even homeless people looked at me funny when I’d have to fill the pail. I was probably the only non-homeless person in the whole kingdom still using one.

The water sat completely still in the pail with the soft light of a night sky caste down through my kitchen window. I didn’t used to think about anything while staring at it, definitely not about who I was or what meaning I had to live for. Those kinds of question were far from needing to be answered. Still, after awhile of just looking at it, I felt like I had to make ripples in the water. I wanted to splash the water. Instead I thought about when it does splash over metal, from what had become ‘my pail’ in ‘my armoury shop’. I thought about the hot iron, steel, ultra metals, or whatever specifications were used. In steam and sweat, I’d slave over blades. I’d cool them down so I could clean and sharpen them. I’d sharpen them so I could fold more ultra metal into a perfect edge that can easily cut through flesh, and with the reputation of my swords, also easily through bone. With the right speed, force, and of course the ‘perfection of direction’, my swords could cut down fully grown trees in a single swipe, or so I was told. Not that I had the slightest doubt, but I only ever used them to cut through blocks of wood to test them, and occasionally some of my patrons’ old swords to prove their power. There were never any swords mine couldn’t slice through. The slightest hesitation prevented the perfection of direction, and the slightest resistance would mean the sword didn’t meet my family’s standards.

I didn’t actually know to what extent my family’s swords were really capable of, but the warriors who used them were always satisfied. Many decades ago warriors would travel far distances from various places to get a sword from my family. But then again I myself might have never had complaints because if the sword wasn’t good enough for whoever was using it ‘they probably got killed so they never could tell me that my sword was horrible’, I thought. My swords could be lying all over the place, but because I received compliments and no complaints, I might have just thought my swords were as great as the legends around my ancestors. It’s true, I’ve never seen other swords do what mine can, but mastering the ‘perfection of direction’ of my own swords was one thing, going around using it in battle was another. That was something I didn’t have much actual experience in.

It didn’t matter though. I made my swords not for warriors to kill other warriors, and not so I could kill warriors. I just made my swords to make money, so I could survive. I was told by my father that I had the God given talent to make them. It ran in our blood. This was how he made his money as well, so it seemed good enough for me. I didn’t want more than I needed to survive anyway. Our swords were much more popular in the past but it seemed like I couldn’t compete in the modern market by advertising with just old hear-say anymore. Swords were always our family trade even in the past when there were all sorts of weapons. By the time of my father’s generations though, the honour of swords had grown so popular it was pretty much the only acceptable weapon, and so it was for my generation too. That meant every weapon shop sold swords, and every blacksmith made them.

I didn’t have to build a good profit as if to achieve some great dream of mine so I wasn’t worried about the competition. I’ve seen dreams and what they do to people. A dream makes one in one thousand happy, and nine hundred and ninety nine accept the fact that they are failures failing to achieve what they dreamt as their full potential. No dreams, no failing I would say. But I didn’t really believe that either. If you don’t dream then you failed before you even had a chance, I always thought. So instead I just accepted failure. But I would never tell my younger brother these things. I’d just rather not pay attention to ‘a dream’. Instead, his future has to be one that matters, well that’s what he really wanted. And who was I to discourage a warrior? I’ll just make him a sword and ‘dream’ the sword kills others and not him because he’s holding it.

If I ever did make profit, I gave it to him, so he could finally set himself on some great journey he wished he was worthy of. He wanted to be a quester. I didn’t care what he wanted to do with the money, or what he thought he could accomplish with this so called great journey. All I knew was that for some reason, unless Tourbillion left, he’d never feel like a real hero that he dreams to be.

As for me, I didn’t want to be anything back then. I didn’t even want anything. But with all the horror that’s happened since those naïve days of simple survival, with everything I’ve been through, now I know it’s true, sometimes we don’t have a choice about who we are or what kind of monsters we’ll end up becoming. It’s just like the water. No matter how much I wanted to make ripples on the flat surface, it would always come back to rest flat even if I did make them. The universe is just made like that. Things equalize. I guess I could call it…

‘Fate.’

2

STRIKER’S TASK

I woke up to the sound of Tourbillion yelling out, Brother! Wake up! Bare-chested only wearing my jeans, I got out of bed. I quickly washed my face and walked down the stairs. I made it to my front desk and saw Tourbillion. He stood waiting for me fully dressed in his old armour as usual. Awake yet, Trig? he asked me.

What do you think? I asked sarcastically.

Grouchy much? he said. I guess you don’t have any money for me. I found this new tournament house to practice in, but it costs twice a much as South Soneek, so I was hoping this was good a month.

No, it really wasn’t. Sorry, I told him.

It’s okay, he replied. Well I met this person… he lowered his eyes, he’s from the East Continent and he says he has a big job for you, he told me. I was already suspicious. People from the East continent didn’t have much money.

Why didn’t you bring him here? I asked.

He thinks you won’t take him seriously, Tourbillion told me. I gave him a funny look.

Tour, just bring him here, I said.

Yes sir, he said while saluting me before he walked out. I wondered why he always wore his armour. It was too old to be proud of really. It fit his broad shoulder’s well but the copper trim was pretty rusted. He’s never had a single battle outside the Kingdom of Soneek his entire life and yet he goes around in armour, even worse, old rusty armour, I thought. It clearly marked him as bronze classed. But I knew Tourbillion. He never lacked focus for what he wanted. Even our father used to tell him, ‘son you’d make a fine soldier one day’. And what did he tell me? ‘No one will know you boy’. But it wasn’t like he was disappointed. He knew that no one knew him either, just our world famous ability. And like him, I didn’t really care. We just make the swords, and with him gone, it was my turn.

I went back upstairs to finish cleaning myself up. I was thinking about starting a new sword that day so I put on an old dirty shirt. I took a hand full of water and slicked back my short black hair. Well not really short. My hair did get in my eyes sometimes while I worked, so I had to slick it back with some water before I started working.

Soon enough I heard the door chime. I went see who it was and when I got to the front desk, a soldier turned to face me. He seemed only a few years older than me.

Sir, may I help you? I asked him. Dressed up in full black and gold dress uniform, he took off his hat and spoke.

I am the corporal to army of The Sinick, he told me. I have heard your ancestors above you were gifted with the way to create swords that can sway through buildings even those as great as the castles of Granos.

My great grandfather, I told him. I didn’t know him myself, but my father told me he was blind. Legend has it, that he blinded himself, but I think that’s bullshit. Why would anyone blind themselves? Still him being blind explained why our process had so much blade touching. ‘Not too hot, never too cold, keep the fingers ever more bold’ was the stupid rhyme my father would say when I watched him touch the edges of blades.

Yes well the Sinick army is now prepared to reveal ourselves and we have decided to make an addition to all warriors, and even create a specialized subdivision, he told me. He sort of looked around the place with his eyes while rubbing his teeth with his tongue as if to say ‘your life seems to suck’.

Sir, if you don’t want to get to the point, you should come back when you’re ready, I told him. I didn’t care who he claimed to be. I didn’t care about him being a corporal either. There were many different armies. The three major one’s being the three kingdom armies of the main continent, Soneek, Granos, and Jikol. I lived in the Kingdom of Soneek, in the city of South Soneek actually, so I’ve heard of a few decent smaller kingdom-less armies. They tend to have knights or guardians instead of the soldier classed. They were here and there. To me it was just a group of people gathering together for one reason or another, maybe thinking they can cause a revolution and have their names written down in the history books as great heroes, great warriors, with great honour, maybe even entered into the mythical code stone. That’s all they wanted. Some of them banned together even if they didn’t know for what purpose. They thought the way the Kingdom ran was just fine. They felt everything was well off. But still, they get together just so they can satisfy this feeling that they are going somewhere with their lives when they’re in an army. Going off on your own and being a quester was more of a gamble, but there were just as many warriors doing that instead. Do you want a sword or not?

Well I am basically requesting that you, yourself join the Sinick army, I let go a sigh. Another army trying to recruit me, almost everyone has been offered by more than one army.

Look I don’t…

Let me finish, he interrupted me. I guess it’s only fair he interrupt since I apparently interrupted him?

You won’t become a soldier. You will stay a blacksmith. You will make swords just like you do now. Nothing changed, except you will only make swords for us. Every warrior will be equipped with a sword, one of yours, so that if they happen to be in close combat near by enemy vehicles, the warrior should cut it to pieces. It will be highly effective. As well, there may be a new subdivision in the near future, of paratroopers holding the swords, dropped above enemy bases, given we find funding… he kept on explaining. It was interesting. No one else has a whole army of my swords, including sword carrying paratroopers. It was way too expensive for a small army though, so it sounded more like a fantasy of his. On top of that, training them with my sword well enough to easily pick apart say a tank from Jikol might take rigorous training. But he certainly was a believer. Hear-say still did reach some people now and then after all. If you come with me, we’ll ensure your safety and your name will be greatly credited. And you, a server, will be granted honour at the level of a gold classed warrior.

When what? I’ll be greatly credited when you destroy the Kingdom of Jikol, or Granos? Or when you take over the world? What is it that makes the Sinick any different than the Blue Serpent or any others? I asked him. They didn’t really need me.

When we become the greatest army honouring truth, when all our warriors are most appreciated… when…

When you are feared? I asked him. You’re all the same. It makes me sick to think about the death caused by your ego.

‘Attack.’

He gave me a stern look. I said too much. I shouldn’t have attacked. It was grave insult to his way of life and he knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with me. He put on his cap and walked away.

‘Retreat.’

I just let him have it, which wasn’t like me. I kept my thoughts to myself, especially around potential customers. Maybe the nights of pail watching were getting to me. I’m actually surprised he didn’t challenge me to death then and there. At least I didn’t get too ‘server’ on him.

A few mere moments later, Tourbillion walked in with a small bronze skinned boy behind him. Here he is. Well, I’ll leave you two to the business, Tourbillion said before leaving.

The boy walked up to the counter. He looked at me with his big open eyes. He could barely look over the counter. You may address me as Ajit.

I looked at him. First I thought, ‘does your mother know you’re here?’ But it didn’t matter. Business is business to all, my father would say, basically he meant so long as you can get money out of them, doesn’t matter what they look like. Trigger, I told him.

I require you Trigger the blacksmith, to make two swords. They must be identical in everyway, he put a piece of paper on the counter. I need this engraved on the side of the blade. I opened the folded piece of paper, and read Seize thy strength—know thy self-Glitch. It is for my son, and his twin.

Huh? I said, with a confused look on my face.

Glitch is both their names. Or will be at least… he said attempting to satisfy my curiosity.

No, having the same name isn’t what bothers me, but isn’t your son’s twin also really your son too then? I asked. I didn’t even bother mentioning that with his age, to have two children seems kind of crazy. That boy seemed very unusual. And his eyes seemed to have great depth, like he knew he had a big road ahead of him. It looked like he had a make shift turban made out of a man’s ripped white shirt.

No… not really, said the young boy. His face was expressionless. There was no joke about it.

I remembered it doesn’t matter what he needs it for so long as I get paid. Do you have any money for these swords kid? I asked just to make sure.

I’ll bring whatever payment you require, but I shall bring it only on completion of the swords, he told me. Hearing the boy talk like that made me sort of trust him. I’ll drop off the specifications tomorrow, he told me. He looked around and picked up a rusty sword from a trunk I left to the side, may I take this? he asked. He reached into a pocket and put two small clear gems, one large ruby and another small blue gem on my counter. I assure you they are real.

All the swords from that trunk are flawed, old, and probably too unbalanced for use. They were tests from earlier projects. It’s not worth much, even if these stones are all made of glass, I told him. I wasn’t serious but I was trying to make a point and if the gems were real he could have picked a much finer sword I had on display to the left of the counter, maybe even one made from ultra metal.

I need a sword to survive, not to kill, for now anyway. I will get the Master Clifice back soon. Or rather I shall start to get it, he told me.

Um… okay… I said not sure what to say. A little boy is going to go save his sword that he has a pet name for, and with a rusty sword that has flaws. Works for me, once again so long as I get paid, if Ajit dies, what the hell am I going to do with his son’s and ‘son’s twin’s’ swords? I’ll only accept up front pay and never trust children again?

He put his hands together and bowed a bit to say bye I figured. He turned around and walked off with my old rusty sword. But before he left through the door, he turned slightly again to say, Sir, DESIRE DOES NOT FIGHT FOR YOU. I had no clue what the hell that was supposed to mean when he said it, and no idea why his voice sounded so true when he said it, but I was thinking of other matters.

‘Whatever I ask eh?’ I thought, ‘I’ll ask for so much Tourbillion’s journey will never have to end’. Anything extra I didn’t need. I decided to ask Tourbillion exactly how much he thought he needed.

3

IFLANA

I f Ajit really could somehow give me everything I needed after I finished his swords, then I wouldn’t have to work on anything else ever, but I didn’t trust him that much. I started hearing a commotion of people outside before I could really start working. I walked out to the front of my shop to see the streets flooded with people. I did live in the old market side of the city just above my shop but people didn’t even seem to be shopping. It seemed like they were just talking to each other. It was as if they were just passing through. Or maybe they were just down in the market for the sake of being out socialising or something. From the way some would move from one group to another, it seemed like even strangers were speaking to each other. From the heels of women and jackets of men, I could tell they were upper class. Some seemed like they were well in the aristocracy. Even the warriors that usually came to the market hoping to gain honour by capturing thieves all looked like they were gold classed that day.

You think she’ll actually be nicer than Queen Verron? said a young girl to another near a street light outside my shop.

Well she is her sister, replied the other. But I don’t remember Queen Verron ever having a sister, do you? I then remembered how the queen of Soneek recently died. I figured the talk was about how the new Queen was about to have her coronation soon. I didn’t really care, same position, same queen title, not like much happened in that position anyway. The position of king or queen didn’t matter as much as the government positions and aristocracy. And those were pretty much the same. The Queen became more of just a figure head over the centuries. As the years went on Soneek ran less and less like the monarchic Granos and more and more like the democratic Jikol. But in the in-between world of Soneek, only the honourable could participate in the decision making.

I turned around and walked back into my shop but before I could get behind the counter a person wearing a large brown cloak with a hood ran in behind then ahead of me.

Wait! I yelled out.

‘Theft?’

The person jumped over the counter, ran to the back and up the stairs. ‘I’m not being robbed’ I thought. The only things of value in my shop were my swords, but whoever it was didn’t even bother. The person ran up to my bedroom. I jumped over my counter, and started chasing, but I picked up a sword before I headed upstairs.

When I got to my bedroom I saw the hooded person struggling to open my window. It seemed kind of pathetic. I put my sword down against the wall and walked over. The person stepped back away from me to the corner of my room as I approached the window. I opened the small safety clip at the window side and walked back to my sword. I picked it up and turned to face the person. Try it now, I suggested.

The person faced me, still shy at first not to run to the window immediately. At the angle that the person was, I could see most of the person’s lower face. Thank you. From her voice and being able too see her lower face, I realised it was a girl. Her skin was light and her lips small, humble. I guess I kind of figured it before, from her feminine hands trying to open the window. Or maybe it was the way she jumped over the counter, or her size, or something. She went over to the window, and opened it. She reached her hand out and grabbed a rope that hung from the top of my shop to the small tailor shop beside mine. I wasn’t sure what the rope was there for but it was there ever since I could remember. She turned her head and gave me a small smile before she stepped out on the ledge crouching on the window sill. She clamped both her hands together on top of the rope and braced before she let her self go, sliding down the rope to the top of the other store.

‘Escape.’

I walked over to the window and laughed a bit when I saw her. ‘That’s one silly girl’ I thought as I watched her run and twirl in circles blowing on her hands as soon as she fell from the rope. She still made it to the other side but as I figured she would, she got a major case of rope burn. She put her hands together between her legs and squatted down for a second before getting back up and running to the other side of the store to climb down off the edge.

I turned around and dragged my sword out of my room and back down the stairs. She was probably trying to run away from home, I thought. I went downstairs and put the sword back from where I picked it up. While there, I noticed something on the floor.

I walked over to pick it up. It was an envelope. That girl must have dropped it. It had a royal seal on it, Soneek’s royal seal anyway. I opened the envelope and pulled out two cards, it looked like an invitation. One had a laced gold boarder around it. The other had the Soneek emblem cut out through the corner. I put them back in the envelope and walked up stairs. I decided to keep it in case that girl came back looking for it. But she probably stole it, I figured. I put the envelope on the small table near my bed and noticed a name written in ink in the corner for whomever it was addressed to, Lady Iflana Corlusia.

4

LADIES OF SHAR

I spent another night in front of that pail of water, but in the morning about as soon as I opened the shop, that boy was standing there in front of the door like a stone. Patience seemed like no problem for Ajit. I wondered if he was there all night too. I have the specifications, he told me as he handed me a piece of paper. Will they be completed when I return? He sounded old for a young kid.

I’m not sure. Come back when you can, and find out, I told him. I remember thinking that his specifications couldn’t be too complex for just a kid who doesn’t mind using a rusty sword. He looked up at me. He slightly squinted then walked off. Strange kid, I thought. I turned around and walked into my shop as I unfolded the paper to look at the specs. At first I thought it was a joke. Ajit wanted me to make two straight double spiked-hilt swords, with a blade that runs as one piece into the handle with a core of diamond. Tourbillion was right I thought, I don’t think I can take him seriously. Mixing diamond with other ultra metals was hard enough. On top of that he wanted engraftments in the blade section. Imperfections in my blades would make it difficult to make absolutely perfect. The handle around the diamond had to be made of steel and wood surrounding that, and then strapped with red leather. The oddest part was a piece of carbon for spiked hilt guard. It was the small ridge that prevented an enemy sword sliding down to the warrior’s fingers or body. ‘Carbon?’ it seemed almost pointless. The sword would need multiple ultra metals to work, so they’d all have to be ‘ultra’ thin too.

‘This is going to be extremely hard and such a pain to do’, I thought. It practically seemed random. I put the paper in my desk and locked it. I knew Ajit had to be serious though. He definitely looked it. I could tell he wasn’t just playing a joke. It took the rest of the previous day, after the intruder dropped her letter, to find someone who could tell me that the gems he gave me were real. The small clear ones were actually diamonds. I wondered why he expected anyone to fully go through trying to make this for him without payment ahead of time. If he didn’t want the swords afterwards I would still be able to sell them easily though, especially with all that diamond. It wasn’t the most expensive ultra metal, but it sure wore the prettiest on the upper class. Still, even if I wanted to make it, I couldn’t, because I wouldn’t be able to afford the supplies, specifically that much diamond, and two large solid pieces of it.

I spent most of that day cleaning the place up thinking about whether or not I should make the swords and trust Ajit to come back and give me anything I ask for. He seemed trustworthy. I would trust the word of that kid, but then again he’s a kid, and that kept bothering me even though the gems were real. If he thinks he’s a warrior like all those self-proclaimed who buy my swords, then he’ll have to stick to his word I figured. I knew about the code. Every warrior has a code, even the darkest ones, even the ones fighting for only themselves and want only glory. Everyone’s code was moulded from the same ancient doctrine of the warrior code. Living in this world I was put in, it would be harder to live as a man not knowing of the code. Most other people who weren’t warriors, trades people, commoners, or servers as we’re called in Soneek, only know of its existence. Most servers don’t know what it entails exactly. I did though. These ‘warriors’ are the people I worked with. Whether or not I agreed on the code, since I certainly am no warrior, I did know most if not all of it. Honour is never given up easily. They wouldn’t break their word.

My door opened again and I saw Leena walk in. She had on skinny fitted jeans that were becoming popular with server girls in Soneek, especially South Soneek. Maybe jeans would even trend to trades people and commoners in other Kingdoms with the new skinny style like Leena had on. But then again Leena wasn’t even a server. Her parents would probably forbid her from wearing them, but I thought they really commented her slim figure.

I put my broom down and walked to my front desk. Can I help you strange lady?

I would like one date please! she said. I smiled. Actually maybe more if you treat me right, she said while she winked at me.

What happened to your eye lashes? I asked with a laugh. For some reason they were huge suddenly.

Their fake, she explained. I’d never heard of it.

I laughed some more.

Hey they’re popular in Jikol! she answered, or at least that’s what some girls say.

I guessed why she was wearing them at least. Your party is today isn’t it? I asked.

You forgot didn’t you? And it’s not my party! she yelled. I told you it’s my sister’s. She doesn’t like how any of this is going. She doesn’t like the queen, she doesn’t like having a royal hierarchy, she doesn’t like any political aristocrat stuff, she told me, for the third time.

Yeah, I think you mentioned it once before, I told her. She’s doing this just to distract people from paying attention to the coronation that’s coming up isn’t she? I asked.

Not others, just herself, Leena told me. She sighed and said, Maybe she should just move to Jikol. I’m sure they’d make a special acceptance for her.

Anyway, when should I get ready? I asked.

Ready? she kind of laughed. You don’t wear much anyway. Ladies can only speculate you’d be hot stuff in a proper suit, something clean with class. I just looked at her and raised my left eyebrow. She didn’t answer my question. The jeans are fine. Maybe a clean shirt would be nice, besides it’s so not a formal occasion. It’s just a party that my sister wants to throw with me. It’s open to everyone. And even if it weren’t, you know I’d sneak you in like I always do, so don’t worry.

Okay, If you say so, I replied. What time?

Oh, sorry, umm, tell you what I’ll come pick you up, and we can go there together, she told me.

Okay, sure, I replied. What time will you come?

Be ready by… eight? Is that fine? she asked me.

Yeah, I replied, that’s fine.

Okay, bye! she said as she put her hand on my face before skipping out of my shop. Maybe it’s because she seemed weird, but she always made me laugh. As she skipped out she was actually singing, ‘la-la-lala-la’.

I felt kind of sleepy and decided to take a nap. Again it was a side affect of staring at a pail of water in the middle of