“Hey, honey.” A roguish man, with slicked back hair, and dark eyes, leans against a lightpost, where a ball of concentrated magical potency illuminates nothing of his face, but casts a shadow towards me from behind him. The shadow of his head meets the edge of my shoes, at my toes. He looks me up and down, while I struggle to make out the details of his face. “Sweet, sweet, fresh meat. Down in the cellar, hmm?” I hear the clink of metal on metal, and immediately rush to draw my dagger, but hear it once more, and realize he was simply flipping a coin. “Ah, don’t feel so uncomfortable, over-under. C’mon, let’s go on a walk.” He steps forward, and his face finally comes into the illumination from the tavern behind me. A strong jawline, straight nose, and a very handsome smile. Yet, his eyes remain just as dark as they were in the shadow. Fake, almost. “Llewil.” The elf extends his hand out to me, having stopped walking much closer.

I stare at him.

“I said, Llewil. Name’s Llewil. Tell me, honey, how’s your name go?”

“Drop the pet names, and you might get to know it before I stick you with this dagger.” I see the smug smile drop off of his face, momentarily.

“Woah, now, keep it smooth, keep it slick, baby. I get it, you’re in a new city, and your friends all left you out to dry. I know a place to go. Better than this. Not trying to—”

“No, I’m not going to go with you. I just came out to get some fresh air.” I cut him off.

“Look, we got off on the wrong foot, really.” Llewil, if that’s his name, pulls back his hand. He almost seems genuinely apologetic. “Usually, the act works for most of the lonely girls who come out of these spots.”

“What? What do you really think you’re doing?”

“Look, okay, things might seem wrong, might seem off. I’m a good guy, promise. Just, come with me, alright?”

“Uh, no.” I turn to start walking away.

“Look, Ilban, it might not be a good idea to walk away. I’m not here to hurt you, really. I’m here to stop you from getting hurt.” I pause. My heart feels quiet in my chest. That word. “Come back, cold-eyes. Turn your heels around and face me down.” I turn around. “Shit’s fucked anyways, isn’t it?”

“Who… Who are you?” I feel my feet freeze in place.

“I told you already, my name’s Llewil. Didn’t expect other members to come around and sabotage my mission. I almost had a chance to kill the Heiress, earlier, then you two clowns dropped out of the sky. Know what that means? Yeah, two more weeks of work. So, really, you’re at fault for shit being so bad.” He sighs, and folds his arms. “Now, come with me, so we can start scouting out weaknesses in the palace. You were going to kill her, weren’t you?”

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“No.”

“No to what? Coming with me? Killing her? What is it?”

“No.” I turn and step back inside the tavern. Steps behind me. I step through the threshold. He follows.

Arrol and Aelwin are locked together on their loveseat. I turn around to face the man, his face now in a new light. No, this man isn’t a member of the Ring. He’s a criminal, a common criminal. This is one of the sin-born. A Sukubid.

“Guess you’ve figured me out, then. Damn, and I almost had you on my strings.” He laughs, and his face loses its shape. Darkness, like that of a void. And, gone.

Rourke runs over to me from behind the bar. “Stay in here, for now. He’ll lurk outside, for a while.”

“Look, I’m familiar with the sin-born, but how did he…” How did he know? Everything he knew, he shouldn’t have. Are we really so insecure with our information?

“He didn’t. He deceived you into thinking he did. Magic, ever heard of it?” Rourke cracks a slight smile, but his sharp eyes scan past the door nonetheless. “Illusory. Bastard. Fleecer. I know ‘em. You’d be safer here.” I look over to Arrol and Aelwin.

“No offense, not to your establishment, but, I’d rather be somewhere else right now.”

He sighs, and rubs the back of his head. “Here’s the key to your room. Go sleep, it’s been a long day for you.” He hands me a small bronze key.

Accosted, attempted, almost assaulted in this new city. Quite the greeting.

Rourke’s eyes pierce me. “You’re still dwelling. Go, sleep. You need it, things will only get worse the longer you stay awake.” That stirs something in me, but I’m too tired to oppose. I acquiesce.

I start towards the stairs, and begin proceeding up. Creak. Creak. Creak.

Wooden stairs in a stone structure deep underground. Have we been had? No, I’m being paranoid. We’re fine. Safe, even. Safer than outside.

I find my way to the room I had been told was mine. The key slips through its keyhole and the door opens with a light click. It swings open slowly on the old hinges. Inside, awaits a plush bed, supported by a steel frame. The window sits open, and the curtains remain still, with no winds billowing about outside.

Sleep, then.

I remove the leather straps holding my armor to my body, and remove it, setting it on the lone table bringing life to the room. I blow out the one lit candle, and crawl under the covers, shutting my eyes.

My body, wrapped in blankets, grows heavy. Exhausted from the events of the past day. Night? With no sun, the flow of time seems so broken. Temporal upheaval.

Finally, sleep.