Smoke, Not Blood

Rohan Bambar let out a shaky breath, drawing the collar of his jacket tighter around his neck before stuffing his hands in his pockets, clenching them in anticipation. He had been leaning against this rickety house for an hour now, watching people of all shapes and sizes enter and leave the small door frame. 

His eyes slowly returned to the young woman in front of him, who had been trying and failing at getting him to open up since he got in line. Her pastel pink hair was partially covered by the mint green hood over her head. Her hands were also crammed in the pocket in front of her, and she was bouncing on the balls of her feet in an attempt to warm herself up.

Rohan grimaced as a strong breeze caused her to lose her balance and stumble. She caught herself and brushed it off with light laughter. "So, what are you getting again?"

"Pardon?" Rohan asked, his eyes flickering back to the opening wooden door. A stout man had just emerged, a baby Panther in his arms. He was stroking the silken ears as he hurried down the street. The people standing behind Rohan clapped after him appreciatively.

"What are you here for?" the woman tried again.

"It's your turn." Rohan took out a hand from his pocket long enough to point at the door, ignoring her question and the clapping that was slowly dying down.

The woman turned to see the door slightly ajar. "Oh!" She nodded a thanks and rushed in, pulling the hood off her head in the process. The door slammed shut and Rohan shuffled forward a few centimeters. There were only a few others behind him now, each eager to get their Animals.

Rohan had unwillingly learned that the woman in front of him was getting a Panda. She was quick to tell him that she worked at a panda sanctuary, and she loudly expressed her worry for the steadily decreasing population. A noble cause, he had to admit.

Another harsh breeze blew against Rohan and he sighed, closing his eyes and wondering when he'd freeze completely. He tried to distract himself by imagining how his daughter would react once he took his Animal home. The corners of his lips turned upward slightly as he imagined her dark eyes growing round at the fantastical sight.

The familiar clapping started up again and he opened his eyes to see the young woman coming out of the house, cradling a baby Panda. She looked away from the creature long enough to flash him a grin, which he returned with a tentative smile.

Astonished by the speed in which she had gotten her Panda, Rohan moved forward and entered the small house as she rushed down the street. The door shut behind him with a quiet click and the howling of the wind merged into an eerie silence. 

It was dark. Feeling like he had temporarily lost his senses, he slowly walked forward, ears straining to hear anything and fingertips gently brushing along the wall.

Suddenly, a low, distant murmuring became clear. Rohan quickened his pace and entered a dimly lit room. It resembled a kitchen, though there was no food in sight.

An old woman, her features cracked with age, was sitting in the center of the kitchen, a large pot in front of her. There was a bright green liquid swirling inside, emanating  a faint green light into the room, reflecting off of the woman's face. Rohan swallowed hard and stopped a few feet away.

The woman didn't acknowledge him, busy concentrating on the substance in the pot. She placed both hands in the thin goop and let it drip down her fingertips. She repeated this process several times before she finally broke the silence, her eyes still lingering on her creation. "What you want has never been done before."

Rohan licked his dry lips and nodded, recoiling at her raspy voice.

"Do you doubt my abilities?"

"N-no," he stammered in a low whisper.

"Why not?" Her voice was a whisper now as well.

"I-I don't know. Everyone is coming to you. Everyone sees the Animals that leave this place. They're real."

"You don't know that."

Rohan paused. "No, they are real."

"What if they weren't?"

"They are," he said firmly. "I know it."

The woman finally lifted her gaze and scrutinized the man in front of her. "What you want has never been done before," she repeated.

"I know." Rohan averted his gaze, feeling a sudden sense of shame fill him under her harsh gaze. "I was just hoping...that maybe..."

"I can," she stated matter-of-factly.

"How do you know?" He looked back up to find her staring into the pot once more.

"I can."

Rohan paused and glanced behind him toward the exit, feeling uneasy in the small room. "It's never been done before."

"Yes."

"So how do you know?"

The woman swirled the substance gently with a finger, ripples breaking the smooth, glowing surface. "What reason do you have?"

"For what?"

"For wanting such a creature."

"M-my daughter. She's wanted one since she opened her eyes."

"Then leave."

"Pardon?

"That is no reason," she answered, the force of her voice causing him to step back.

"I need a reason?" he demanded incredulously.

"Of course!" The woman stood up, pushing her chair back with a painful scraping sound. Her full height surprised him; she was about an inch taller than he was. She had looked small and frighteningly breakable when stooped in her chair.

"I...that's why I would like one." Rohan puffed his chest out, trying to show that he wasn't intimidated, but his feet betrayed him as he took another step back.

Fury was painted on the woman's face as she moved to close the distance between them. "You don't even have a reason," she hissed down at him. "I'm risking my life even talking with you."

"I...I'm sorry. I'll leave." Rohan drew his coat closer around him and began to leave, rushing down the hallway. 

He gasped sharply when he felt a bony hand suddenly grab his shoulder, the nails digging into his shoulder through his coat. He didn't know how the woman managed to catch up with him without making a sound.

"There's more to the story," she realized. She seemed to sigh in relief.

"I...to what story?"

"Your reason. There's more to it."

Rohan debated making a run for the door and trying somewhere else. "No. That's it."

"Where's your wife?" The woman turned and slowly began to make her way down the hallway. Rohan glanced back at the exit once more. "Follow me," she commanded. There was no room for arguing.

Silently chiding himself for not being more strong-willed, he obeyed, following her back into the kitchen. His feet itched to go at a quicker pace, but he didn't dare try to pass her. 

The woman lowered herself back down into her chair with a content sigh. "Pull up a seat and tell me about her."

Rohan looked around the room and spotted a small, brown chair. He picked it up and gingerly placed it a few feet across from her.

"Tell me about your wife," she ordered again. "Where is she?"

"A cemetery," he answered simply.

"What happened to her?" She leaned back in her chair and studied him with her surprisingly light eyes.

"Uh...suicide." Rohan cleared his throat and looked away from the woman, his throat beginning to swell with emotion.

"What happened?"

"Her work was taken away from her."

"What was she?"

Rohan licked his chapped lips. "She was like you. A Smoke Creator."

She nodded, as if she already knew this. "She was depressed about the murders of the Animals and those who created them. And of the real animals that were thought to be Animals. They shed innocent blood, not smoke." There was no question about it.

"Uh, yes." He cleared his throat again.

"Why do you want one for your daughter? They will know it's an Animal. It cannot be a real animal."

"I know." His leg started shaking - an anxious habit. "We agreed, my wife and I, to make her one for her sixth birthday. Well, that was before it became a crime. She's older than six now, my daughter."

"We?" The woman boomed, outraged. "She, not we. You can't do it."

"Yes. Yes, you're right. I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, pressing his hands together and bowing his head. He knew how defensive Smoke Creators could get about their work.

The woman calmed down quickly. "Tell me about her death."

"S-she went out on the road. There was nothing I could do. She was sobbing and bleeding while she died in my arms. 'Blood, not smoke.' That's all she said." Rohan stopped and let out a shaky breath. "When she died, it felt like I did too. Like I was no longer flesh and blood, but walking around full of smoke like these Animals. I don't feel real anymore, just real enough. But if I can make this real for my daughter, for my wife-"

"I will create it," the woman decided, lacing her fingers together. "For her, for your daughter. Even for you. I will."

"Thank you. Thank you," he whispered.

She leaned forward and stared into her pot once more. She began a low murmuring, almost inaudible. He couldn't understand any of the words. 

Rohan sat back nervously, grasping the arms of his chair, trying not to blink. He knew how this happened - he'd seen his wife do it often enough - but he was still enthralled.

It was taking longer than usual, longer than it would have if it was a normal Animal. He had lost track of time by the time a viscous strand of the green substance finally began to rise over the pot, evaporating into a thin, smoky color. It snaked around in the air as other strands started to rise up and join it, beginning to form the Animal. 

Minutes later, or possibly hours, Rohan watched in awe as the dancing smoke began to settle, changing once more to transform into a solid, bright white.

The woman reached out before it finished forming, a dark navy blanket in her hands. The Animal, living and breathing like any other, gently landed in her hands. It was sleeping.

"She," the woman murmured, wrapping the blanket around the Animal securely.

"What?"

"She's a female," she informed him.

"Oh. Right." She was sleeping.

The woman came around the pot and handed Rohan the bundle. He gingerly took it and held it close to his chest.

The woman continued to wrap the Animal, carefully covering her horn. "Leave quickly. I won't do this for just anyone," she rasped out, the sense of urgency in her voice clear.

"Yes. Of course. Thank you so much." Rohan quickly absconded down the hallway with his precious gift. He shoved the door open and ran down the street, ignoring the applause that followed him. Comments like "What'd you get, man?" and "What took so long?" were also ignored.

He made it back to his car in record time. He knew he had to hurry home, lock the doors and close the blinds. But he allowed himself time to uncover the sleeping creature, to see her with his own eyes.

She was beautiful. Not real, but real enough. Her horn glinted in the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Her ear, soft as velvet, twitched at his touch. Still, she remained asleep, smoke escaping her nose as she breathed deeply in the cold, winter night.

She was a secret that would be kept tight - known only by him, his daughter, and the his wife - the symbol of his love's memory, honoring her work and life goals.

Feeling the Unicorn's smoky breath warmed Rohan's inside and out, removing the smog clogging his heart and allowing blood to flow freely once again.