Eyera (The Eyera Series Book 1) Page 6

  “I feel sick, please can you stop,” I say.

  The driver doesn’t buy the pathetic lie. I don’t blame him. I do something that will make it more believable and bring my hands to my mouth and heave, he shifts as I continue to fake heave.

  “Okay, okay wait wait hold it in,” he says as the bus gets slower. He opens the doors, and I run out holding my stomach.

  “Are you okay, Miss?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I suffer from travel sickness,” I lie.

  “Look, Miss, I’m on a schedule, can you hold it till we get there, we are only a few minutes away,” he says.

  “Thank you but it’s okay, I can walk from here it be good to get fresh air,” I reply.

  The driver looks at me unsure.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive and like you said, it’s only a few minutes away, I’m there within twenty minutes tops.”

  “Okay, be careful walking up this road,” he says, and with that, he shuts the doors and proceeds.

  I’m glad he didn’t question me any further, some drivers are snobby and horrible that they call the guards.

  I take a big deep breath, the air is different from Siver and Elspeth City. Nisahles air is a lot sharper, so sharp I feel lightheaded.

  I cut through bushes and traipse along the field, my bokken running through the grass and I hop over small flowers. Gosh, this heat is unbearable, I take off my jacket folding it over my arm.

  I jog across the field before anyone notices me, I don’t want to run into trouble especially not from Eyera. If they took me into Eyera Corporation, they won’t alert my parents, not right away of course, they will make sure that the parents are worried sick, and once they are satisfied then they send a message.

  There’s a reason why I left the bus early to avoid all of that; one can never be too careful.

  I enter the forest walking on twigs and leaves, I hit nettles out of my way and get to a stream, the water gleaming purely and ducks are swimming with the odd few quacks here and there. I splash a little bit of water on my face to cool down and wash my bokken.

  I follow the stream that splits into two sections, I take the one on the left which takes me to a hill. I reach to the top overlooking at Nisahles, at the very back lies another large hill with a mansion on top, the biggest mansion of them all. The Johansson’s.

  CHAPTER TWLEVE

  So many vans drive in and out, food brought into the mansion and decorations prepared. Colourful flowers outside being watered and windows getting cleaned.

  It’s pointless that people from Siver are coming here to ask for food, it happens every year and the results are the same. Rejection. Of course, the Johansson’s are going to say no, they are filthy rich! They own nearly everything; everything desired, so why would they want some poor family second hand tatty keepsake, not them that’s for sure.

  Every privileged citizen in Nisahles has outstanding mansions, gorgeous large gardens with swimming pools, expensive paintings and gold statues of warriors which are a symbol in Nisahles; it shows power, wealthy and nobility. Nisahles expects us to respect them even if they don’t respect back.

  Stepping into Nisahles is like a gold of wonder, not a single speck of dust in sight. Their roads and pathways are smooth and no loose stones are detached.

  Colour is everywhere, every colour from the rainbow.

  Nisahles have power and bathe in gold, they tend to look down at us like we are dirt, but I think it has something to do with Eyera because if Nisahles gave out food or money to the poorer areas, there’d be no poor areas left and Eyera does not like that. There have to be poor regions to keep the system going. If everyone is rich and have food that lasts a lifetime, no one will have to work. No one will have jobs like cleaning the sewers, taking out rubbish, house services or building. This world will fall to pieces because it needs to keep a balance.

  Poor people will work hard and not go on strike because they will get punished and they cannot afford that. Siver and Wister will work till their bones ache, till their bodies collapse with exhaustion, they will work till their last breath so that they won’t get punished, they don’t want that. They want to live even if it’s difficult at times.

  The way with how Nisahles work is that they provide the electricity that flows through the city and the other three sections, it’s why they bathe in riches, especially the Johansson’s as they are the founders of the company,

  There have been times where we have lived without electricity for months; it was horrible, but after a while, we got used to it and relied on the sun.

  Nisahles, Eishen, Siver and Wister are different to each other; we have different housing, different weather, different clothes and different work, we are not allowed to enter each other’s section unless there is a reason for it, some people ignore that rule. If there is no trouble and the citizens see no harm, they let people come in, but if any Eyera guards are lurking in the four sections, no one dares to enter another part. We don’t get guards coming into the sections often as we know the rules and consequences.

  There is only one place that follows the rules strictly and has Eyera guards covered, and that is Eishen, no one dares to enter Eishen.

  Wister is the only place I don’t know much about, only that they are poor like us. I have not seen Wister, but I can imagine what it looks like, if they are like us then they have cracked roads, dusty pathways, broken fences, torn trees and shabby cottages, they might not be as bad as us, or they could. I don’t know. I haven’t tried to travel to Wister as I think it’s rather pointless.

  The workers in Wister work extremely hard because my father told me. He has visited Wister a few times as he has a friend there; they have been good friends for years and occasionally help each other out. My father told me stories about their friendship; that he is a generous man. He gives most of his food to the elderly and children. It doesn’t matter if he eats or not, the children and elderly came first in his eyes, he is a very respectful man from what I heard, and I would love to meet him one day.

  I work my way through Nisahles feeling out of place, people wear stylish, expensive clothing. Men wear expensive, sleek suits, and the women wear fashionable dresses, even the children look smart and stylish, boys’ hair gelled back tightly and girls’ hair tightly in a bun.

  Children play on their technology devices; it’s very odd seeing their faces glued to the screens, they don’t look like they are smiling or having fun but mindless and moving like zombies not bothering to look up. Now, the children in Siver are covered in dirt and play with sticks, and they are the happiest kids I’ve seen.

  I walk up another hill to get to the Johansson’s place. I knew there was a reason I don’t like Nisahles and that is the hills, they all sit on hills, and it’s frustrating.

  I push my body up the hill, moving a branch out of the way and there it is.

  Large steel gates with two beastly bears on top of a pillar. A large fountain centred in the middle with vans and cars next to it, flower beddings planted and blue and orange tiles spread along the front. Two giant trees sit either side and floor lights are set around.

  I run down the hill to the large hedge that covers the perimeter; I use my bokken to make and opening and go through it. I swiftly move across the back garden, dodging past the ornaments and careful not to ruin the flower beds. I sneak past the gardener who is oblivious to my existence as she is busy watering the pink camellia flowers.

  I run at the back of mansion where drain pipes are fixed onto the sides. I tug at it once, making sure it’s is stable enough to climb. Once I am satisfied I hop. It’s an easy climb. I clamp my hands on the ledge lifting my legs over the balcony. I walk up to the white double glass doors hoping it’s unlocked, resting my hand on the golden coated doorknob. I twist and results – it’s not locked.

  I peer around the doorframe and tiptoe across the velvet crested carpet, a dash of vanilla perfume lingers around the bedroom. A king sized bed with silky beige sheets that look
very comfortable. A large mirror covers up the oak panelling, and I catch a glimpse of myself and cringe.

  I sneak out and head to the dining room as I’ve already been here twice. The first time I snuck into Nisahles, curious to look at everyone else’s house and how different they are from the ones in Siver. I was six at the time, and I got caught by the butler, he let me off but warned me never to set foot in here ever again. The second time was with Father; he had to deliver a crafting and he took me along, I was so nervous and scared because of the butler, thankfully I never saw him. But if I did and Father found out, I would be scolded and grounded.

  I walk down the hallway, paintings of men in fancy suits hang on the teal walls; I don’t know who these men are or what their role is, but they looked important.

  I get to a spiral gold staircase and cautiously walk down; staying alert of any workers. I open up the massive chestnut doors and to my surprise no sign of workers or the Johansson’s, in fact, I haven’t seen anyone in the house yet, which is odd as before I saw workers coming in out with food.

  I creep to the middle of the room; a large crystal chandelier dangles perfectly, more portraits hang neatly and a fierce warrior on a horse statue placed in front of a window. Gold upon gold.

  I turn round to see a glass dining table covered with dishes of food and tubs. All types of food such as noodles, even soba noodles, potatoes, pies, bread, lots of different kinds of vegetables, fruits, and they have a different kind of meat, cheese, and eggs.

  Desserts lay at the other end of the table, ice-cream, chocolate muffins, cakes, velvet cupcakes, jelly and fruit salad, a jackpot of joy, it was like I died and gone to heaven.

  My mind comes to a standstill; not sure what glorious food I should grab first, my mouth watering like mad and I can taste the food. I am soon snapped out of my daze as I hear laughter provoke drawing closer to the room. My heart begins to race, and I pull out my satchel like lightning, grabbing as much food as I can into it. I take bread rolls, potatoes, soba noodles, vegetables, and fruit and dash to another room.

  I peek around the corner seeing workers entering the room. I run upstairs but yelling captures my attention. I walk back opening the door slightly to see Mr Johansson shouting at the workers, he observes the table for a while. Mrs Johansson walks in too with her bodyguards followed behind; her squawky voice scolds the worker and they tense and stutter as they Johansson’s shout.

  “Why is there food missing?” Mr Johansson asks.

  They tremble and look at each other not sure how to respond.

  “You’ve been stealing?” Mr Johansson shouts.

  “No Sir, we must have simply misplaced the food. We are very sorry,” the butler says in a posh voice.

  “Misplace it? Huh. I see. We make sure that doesn’t happen again,” Mr Johansson says unsettling.

  He snaps his fingers and the two bodyguards instantly move grabbing the butler; pushing him on his knees, his face hitting the table. The bodyguards spread his arms and plant their hands on the side of his face, and Mr Johansson saunters to the butler and touches his fingers.

  “This little piggy cleans the window, this little piggy picks up clothes, this little piggy eats, this little piggy has none, and this little piggy steals and lies all the way home.”

  He quickly raises a rolling pin, and I move forward but stop as I know the consequences. I debate whether to make myself known but I keep planted; feeling guilty as I watch Mr Johansson dismantle the butler’s hand. I watch sadly as guilt eats me up. I peel myself away from the scream and dash upstairs heading back to the room. Running down the hallway, I slink around a sharp corner, and I’m met with a thud and slump to the ground. I rub my forehead and pounce onto my feet bringing out my bokken, my eyes divert to the source of collusion, and I meet with another pair of eyes staring and arms up.

  CHAPTER thirteen

  “Dammit, Hunter, what the hell are you doing here? You nearly gave me a heart attack,” I say holding my chest.

  “That is the second time you have threatened me with your weapon, I’m afraid that you are going to hit me one day,” he chuckles.

  “Why are you following me?” I say irritated.

  “Making sure you don’t get caught,” Hunter says poking my nose.

  I move away and scowl.

  “I can handle it on my own; I don’t need you here to help me.” I bite, immediately regretting snapping at him.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It’s just — I have been on edge lately,” I sigh.

  “I know, no need to apologise,” Hunter says warmly.

  Hunter bends down picking up my satchel and hands it back to me. I look at his side, and he carried a satchel as well, I raise my eyebrow, and notices what I’m staring at.

  “Hey, don’t you give me that look,” he warns playfully.

  I continue to give him the face tilting my head to the side.

  “Stop it, Shader,” he says.

  “Alright … alright, you win. I know, I know stealing from the famous Johansson’s, can you blame me, they have been spreading like wildfire.”

  I pass him, sticking my head up high ignoring him. I hear Hunter run after me.

  “Don’t act like you are better than me, I see you also stealing,” Hunter mocks.

  Dammit, Hunter. Hunter pulls me back, green eyes meeting blue. He mirrors my look and crosses his arms.

  “Well …” he says.

  “I’m waiting,”

  “Fine, I’m stealing too, the food here is crazy,” I say walking down the corridor.

  “Place is pretty neat, look at these paintings of old men, do you think they notice if I draw a moustache on this one?”" he says.

  “Most likely,” I say.

  “Oh wait,” he says making me turn on my heels to face him.

  “Don’t forget these Shader,” Hunter says tossing a small box and I catch them.

  I look down at my hand seeing a box of emplons, and I smile.

  “We should get going before we get caught,” Hunter says bringing me out of my thoughts.

  We hear Mrs Johansson’s shouts getting get closer as she heads upstairs, Hunter and I look at each other, and we panic. Hunter looks around and sees a door and pulls me inside the cupboard pressed together, our chests rising quickly. I hear Mrs Johansson walk by, and I open the door slowly to see she has gone into the room I was going to use. Hunter opens the door fully and lets out a nervous chuckle.

  “All clear, follow me,” Hunter orders, taking the lead.

  We run down the corridor peering around the corner to see if it’s clear to go, I wait for Hunter’s signal, and we move, we get to the stairs, running down to the back of a room. Hunter puts a finger on his lips; he puts his ear on the door hearing for any movements. Once Hunter is satisfied he opens the door quietly and heads in and I do the same thing. Pots, pans, cutlery and heaps of mess over the kitchen counters, the kitchen is enormous but messy, looks like the workers worked all night to prepare for the Johansson’s annual festival, sometimes I think these workers do not get enough credit than they should.

  A freshly baked pie sits on the table, and Hunter’s eyes bulge, and he licks his lips, he contemplates for a while on getting a slice. A group of voices makes our head dart to the door, and I look at Hunter and he looks back. The voices get closer, and I run straight to the back door and step out. I wait for Hunter to do the same but he takes a little longer than I expect. Finally, Hunter comes out wiping his mouth.

  “Let’s go,” he says with his cheeks puffed and crumbs on his T-shirt.

  Hunter and I run to the back of the hedge going through the hole. Hunter gets up brushing bits of leaves from his body, and I cross my arms over my chest. Hunter notices my unamused face.

  “What?” he says nervously.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “You had to get that pie,” I laugh.

  “You bet,” he smirks.

  Hunter and I run through Nisahles laughing and shouting, taking
the world in our hands. Hunter makes me feel happy, and I like feeling that, whenever my days seem dark and gloomy, Hunter paints a bright picture and makes my day feel warm.

  Hunter and I stop laughing but as soon as we look at each other it starts again, he puts one finger in the air and hunches down with his other hand on his knee laughing uncontrollably, which makes me laugh harder when he laughs because he has a scream laugh, and it’s so infectious. Hunter wipes a tear and lets out a sigh.

  We both walk to a wired fence crossing over holding our satchels closer and into the forest.

  “So, what did you manage to get your hands on?” I ask.

  Hunter opens up his satchel, and I peek inside, tubs of grapes, two large carrots, a couple of eggs, bread, cheese and three velvet cupcakes.

  “It’s not jackpot worthy, but it’s something,” Hunter says.

  “Hunter, the velvet cupcakes are the jackpot,” I say grinning.

  “Here take one,” Hunter offers.

  “I’m good thanks,” I reply.

  “Oh, for Hadrian then,” Hunter says as he hands me the cupcake.

  I take it and wrap it in a brown fabric and carefully put it in my satchel.

  “How is Hadrian?” Hunter asks.

  I scrunch my lips to the side thinking.

  “He’s good, Dad is training him now,” I say.

  “Ohhh I bet he hates that,” Hunter chuckles.

  “Yeah, but he’s been having nightmares lately but other than that, all good,”

  “Hmm, who doesn’t have nightmares nowadays,” Hunter says.

  Hunter and I fall into silence after that and continue walking, our boots crushing on the fallen leaves, snapping on twigs and plants. The trees tower us and the sun sometimes makes an entrance. I’m glad that the Johansson annual festival is on today, I think the workers were distracted outside by people coming up to them asking for food, which is good for my half, easier to sneak in and take but I feel sorry that the butler got punished for my doings. It was selfish what I did.

  If this were Eishen, this would be different; it’s impossible to enter Eishen and steal. That place is horrible, and they are blinded by Eyera. It’s like they have been brainwashed, they think what Eyera is doing is right ‘laws are supposed to be followed’ says the monotone voice in my head.