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Darkness didn’t leave much for her vision, only enough to see her way. It wasn’t much of a problem… time was. Her eyes got used to the dark a while ago after walking all the way from the other side of the village in a hurry. Sick of the endless sound of her own footsteps she was struggling to keep her coat from spreading away behind her from the diving wind.
She couldn't tuck her head any more in her hood, trying to avoid attention all she could, even wishing to be invisible, though it wasn't impossible, if only magic wasn’t illegal in this damn country. Not just magic, but merely being from a bloodline of those able to use it was a crime itself.
She was about to throw up from the ugly faces she had to pass by, every few steps, though more awaited her. A fat ugly man with a lame walk, was heading the opposite way, gazing at her in such a low manner and frowning in rather a disgusting way, perhaps it was his natural face, “piss of you sack of douche” she cursed under her breath “faces here are no different than the scum spread everywhere”, for the first time she felt the need to learn more cursing words. Fortunately her destination was just after the next turn.
Walking almost like a shadow along the wall, her heart felt as thin as paper, and just as she made the turn, three royal guards were just a few steps away heading her way. Feeling her spine stung, she lost breath, her legs refused to stop. With her wide open eyes fixed downwards, she walked at a normal pace. She didn’t know if they were after her or not, but still, she was definitely done for if they knew who she was. It was no point of any stupid move, yet every part of her body wanted to flee away.
The one on the left was holding what seemed like a shred of cloth, looking at it and talking to the others “... i told you was useless” he said as he tossed it aside.
“Catching Jonathan The Owl, using a piece of his clothes, what nonsense” said the other one as his words hooked her ears, Jonathan The Owl, was the exact man she was on the look for. The only man she could run to, to help her in her case.
Passing them took a few seconds, but with the feeling of nails digging her skin from fear, it felt like hours, she didn’t even know if one of them laid an eye to check on her, she was a walking statue, and step by step, their voices started fading behind her.
She turned back for a last check, as she leaned down to pick up the piece of cloth they left. If it really belonged to Jonathan as they said, then that is definitely her key to find him. She quickly put it in her shoulder bag, still checking if anyone is nearby, then kept going.
Ahead of her was a bar bustling with men, she could hear the cracking of cubs and their laughter from afar. It was the last place she’d ever imagined of entering, yet her last hope of finding him laid there.
Sneaking her eyes to see behind her cautiously, she pushed the door slowly, and just as she did, the smell of wine and warm air dived her nose before her eyes were stung from the coming light, and when she finally opened her eyes properly she stood in wonder. Every inch of the place was filled with tables surrounded by tough men laughing as loud as they can, sharing wine and some meat and telling stories. All of them seemed dangerous and armed with all kinds of swords. Getting in trouble there was the last she wanted.
She swallowed and walked forward, with her wide open eyes not even looking for an empty table but scanning everyone’s face to walk away from the dangerous-looking ones.
The wooden floor seemed unclean for ages, her footstep noise wasn’t heard over all their mess. She was glad there were some other women, although some of them seemed even more scary than men. Luckily an abandoned table with a broken chair was just behind a pillar. It was cracked in half, one side steep and the other straight but smelled of old wine, though it was more than fine for her.
Glancing over her shoulders anxiously, she quickly dragged the chair back and sat while scanning every face around her, few of them stared back. The chair was unstable and uncomfy. The smell of wine mixed with that of rotten food and got even stronger from this spot, she had to hurry before it drove her crazy.
Sneaking her hand inside her bag, she tightened her grasp on the shred, wrinkled it to a ball with her fingers, then put her hand on the table, still folded, making sure no one could figure what she held. She then put the other hand on it and raised them together close to her face, with her elbows on the table in a gesture that mirrored someone praying, but hardly matched the truth, as she closed her eyes and started muttering her spell.
Seeing nothing, the fear of finding someone sitting next to her conceived her mind. She stopped for seconds, wishing to be wrong, and when she opened her eyes, a pair of eyes of a young woman stared back, putting one elbow on the table and spinning a knife between her fingers. Heather was petrified, she looked just as young as her, with a small red hair and a grin that made her look even more lethal.