Another three days of walking had to their fortune, been uneventful. The coastline had changed into tall valleys, in which the sea penetrated deeper inland. A few fishermen had accepted coin to bring them across the mouth of such a deep valley, which reminded Mariel of the sights back when she had first set out after arriving on the continent. On their way, they encountered farmers and their families, busying themselves with bringing in the animals and collecting the last bits that nature had to offer, before it would fall asleep and rest until spring.

“Sheep… You know, they are really tasty… Sure they squirm a lot and think they’re supremely clever, but nothing beats the first rip of fresh, bloody meat from the bone…” Mariel shuddered as a sensation visualized itself in her mind as someone drooling into her ears.

“Stop it…” She whispered back, to which Siah quickly recovered.

“Sorry, it’s just… It’s been sooo long since I had some good mutton… Why don’t you try to think about eating some sheep and I’ll attempt to feed on those thoughts?”

“That would just make me sick.”

“Awh… Well fine, I guess I’ll endure.”

“There! Up ahead! That’s Altira! Daristan shouted.

“Huh? It’s not bigger?”

“Nah, It’s just a small shipping port for goods, shady individuals and now, refugees.” Daristan smiled. “We’ll feel right at home.”

“What’s the people like?”

“Not the kind of clientele you would receive at mass, that’s for certain. In fact, I’m sure most of them would be struck down by lighting or burst into flame if they so much as got close to your former workplace.”

Casindire shuddered visibly and Saya stepped in to hold her hand.

“Oh…” Daristan added: “I’m not kidding. Altira is one of many homes of those elvenkin that have been expelled from the island. Usually for crimes, or simply backing the wrong side, or both in the civil war. You could even find enclaves like this on the human continent. So, hold on to your valuables, and stay together. No doubt there’s an assassin around, not to mention predators who would hunt upon our fairer companions.”

“Why can’t we ever just go to a friendly kind of place?”

“Because friendly places my dear Casindire, would never deal in the sort of covert trades that we’ll need to board a ship and cross the sea, or at the very least, would be very difficult to find, and time isn’t on our side right now.”

The town, which had seemed fine, was flaunting its neglect which became more visible the closer they got: Dirty spires and ill-kept streets, an unending stench of rotting fish and a creepy feeling of being constantly watched. Mariel kept close to the others, who appeared to feel the same thing she did, except for Daristan who walked like he owned the place. They followed the stench and soon stood on a small warf, where the last ships of the season were being loaded.

“Just wait, and I’ll go see if I can find a good ship.” Daristan waved and soon disappeared in the crowd.

“Kids, let’s go get something to eat.”

Saryssa pointed towards a small building down the street. By a quick glance, it looked like a tavern, but as they got closer it revealed itself to be or, had been a much seedier establishment. A group of four elves sat outside. From their clothes, they looked like mercenaries, and as they approached, they began whistling and making obscene hand gestures. One stood up, and blocked the way.

“Sorry, we’re not interested.” Saryssa stopped and politely turned down whatever request he had before making it.

“Huh?” The elf looked genuinely hurt. “We’re not shady or anything miss, in fact, we know of a much better place a little further away. Me and my guys would be happy to show you the way.”

“No thanks.” Saryssa shook her head. The elf raised his chin a little and his friends stood up and began circling in.

“That’s rather rude… I offered you a good opportunity… I feel hurt, so why don’t you soothe my burning pain in that ample chest of yours?” He began reaching out. Tizare joined Mariel, Saya and Siravin in ready stance, waiting for the fight to begin.

“Touch me, and find out what it means to have your junk burnt, frozen and crushed at the same time.”

The elf and Saryssa exchanged glares. For a second it looked like the elf was willing to gamble, but eventually he backed up, smiled and stepped aside.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The inside of the tavern was as run-down as the exterior suggested. A thick haze of pipe smoke hung heavily in the room, instantly drying out Mariel’s throat, causing her to cough and wheeze.

“Here.” Siravin handed her a handkerchief he had dipped in a water bucket by the entrance. The water smelled of neglect, but the wet cloth kept the smoke out.

“What can I get you huh?” The tavernkeeper, curiously, a demonkin, smiled.

“Bread, fried meat and water… Nothing fancy.”

“Coming up. Go find yourselves a seat... You know…” The tavernkeeper eyed Saryssa closely. “I could use you for my upstairs business, if you’d like a job?”

“I’ll pass.”

“Shame.” He shrugged and resumed wiping his counter.

After overcoming a whole set of lewd stares and uncouth whistling, they found a table. All around, Mariel could feel the gazes of those around them. She considered for a moment to listen closely, to decipher any ill intent, but pushed the idea away immediately, concluding that pretty much every male in the tavern was commenting them.

“And now we wait?” Saya, who felt ill at ease shot Saryssa a look, which was immediately disarmed by a characteristically gentle smile.

“Yes. Don’t fret, Daristan is a capable man, he’ll soon have us safely on board a ship and on the way. For now, we’ll wait here. Eat, drink and take the moment to relax. We’ll soon have more than enough to worry about.”

The lazy buzz around them continued. Soon their order arrived and they began eating in silence. Soon the thick haze almost solidified as seemingly everyone around them took out a pipe and began smoking, as if on cue. Saryssa took produced a pipe from her pack and lit it with a satisfied smile.

Sitting opposite, Mariel who was struggling to breathe coughed and tried to clear her throat of the thickening smoke. Saya and Casindire appeared to fare no better, they too struggling with smoke-filled lungs.

“I think we should go outside…” Mariel whispered.

“No. Stay here. Something’s about to happen.”

“What?”

“Just be quiet, and watch.

A pair of hooded individuals approached the owner behind his counter. They exchanged quiet words and the tavernkeeper pointed in the direction of a table at the end of the room. The two nodded and slowly made for the designated table. All eyes were on them, and occasionally, the mute sound of a leather strap being loosened broke the silence. Even the strangely loud creaking noises from the floor above had seized. The two strangers bent their knee before a third person, obscured by pipe smoke, and the lively chatting continued.

“I know what you’re thinking Mariel. The elven lands are in a state of civil war. Even among the exiled, loyalties can still be fierce. The tavernkeeper acts as a sort of gate guardian. He’s wearing a golden ring embellished with the insignia of Prince Valentos, which he shows to everyone who enters. If they don’t support Valentos, that’s their cue to leave, or they will stay at their own peril.”

“I didn’t notice it.”

“You had no way of knowing what to look for, which is why we were not met with the same silence.

“Then who are those people over there?”

“Who knows… Dignitaries perhaps, or emissaries… Could also be assassins.” She shrugged and returned to the remaining scraps of food on her plate. “It’s best not to think too hard about it.”

“So, one side is this Prince Valentos, who’s the other? If there’s a civil war?” Saya asked.

“There are three of them. Valentos, Ennileth and Andogar. The princess Ennileth holds the capital city and the major strongholds… Valentos retains the control of the major sea ports, while exile prince Andogar is probably still conducting his guerrilla war from the vast forests. Who’ll win is not set in stone, and all three factions I would guess are hurriedly recruiting mercenaries right now…”

“Yes, and Valentos could certainly use you.” A voice made them jump a little. Startled, they found themselves looking at the source, flanked on both sides by the two individuals from the earlier exchange.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you… My name is Yvrain… And I always remember the faces of those who have helped me.”

“Right, well we’ve never seen you before, so I’m sure there’s been some mistake.” Saryssa tried to dismiss the topic. Immediately both of Yvrain’s apparent guards drew their weapons.

“No, I’m certain. You, demonkin with the crimson hair, what’s your name?”

“Mariel…”

“I see, I found you! Our last encounter was not really all that pleasant. I appreciate your timely intervention… And you.” He pointed at Saryssa. “I have read your records.”

Still looking positively puzzled, Mariel could only smile politely as a way of passing on the initiative of the conversation.

“I had hidden among the refugees. They called me Azinas. I was badly injured in a brawl in which you tried to intervene on my behalf.”

“I… Don’t recall… Sorry.”

“But I do, and according to tradition, I owe you a debt which I feel great urge to repay.”

“I remember him. I turned some of his more violent assailants into ice cubes.” Saryssa smirked, waving her finger around, creating a small cloud of cold mist.

“Okay… I still don’t remember, sorry. Ah, but we do need some transport across the sea to your home continent!”

“I’ll arrange it.” He replied without a moment’s pause.

“And we want no political implications.”

“Not a problem, you’ll be my guests.”

Before the conversation could continue, the door opened, and standing in the doorway, was Daristan, followed shortly by Tizare. Both looking weary, but excited.

“Hey Saryssa! Are you in here?” He shouted, giving not a care for the dagger-like stares directed at him.

“Over here.”

“Finally,! This is the fifth tavern we’ve been to! We were nearly attacked when entering two of them… I know the elves are aggressive at times but…”

“We’re dead.” Saya sighed.

“Only Daristan could insult elves, in a room filled with elves.” Casindire joined in.

He waltzed over to their table. Yvrain and his guards retreated a little to make space, both guards brandishing their sharp swords.

“I got us a spot on a transport ship! It’ll leave tomorrow!” He proclaimed, completely ignoring the weapons pointed at him.

“Well done love… Properly well done.” Saryssa fake smiled.

“It’ll be just…” Daristan’s excitement was immediately interrupted.

“Dear?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“O-oh…” With a stare, powerful enough to kill, Daristan was silenced. Obediently, he sat down next to her and made himself as small as possible.

“Now dear, I’d like you to meet someone…”