"I'm glad you picked such a great time to embrace Bahnwan hospitality!" Tamma grumbled as she paced around what little space there was in the pitch-black room. She stretched her arms out, bumping into a multitude of objects. The hunter pressed her hands against the wall, feeling around the surface as her feet shuffled against the floor.
"You seemed opened to coming down to this part of Farrowport in the first place!" Miwah shot back in a whisper just loud enough to carry across the narrow space. The seamstress stepped forward, ready to continue her rebuttal until her foot knocked over something. There was a splash, followed by the floor getting soaked as a rotten scent filled the air.
"Ugh! What is that smell?" Miwah cried as she pinched her nostrils shut with her fingers.
"Smells like mop water. If you've been to enough taverns and inns, you start to familiarize yourself with the scent of old vomit."
"Ah. Someone that lives in the woods would know a lot about such horrendous odors."
"Might want to try to find something to stand on. Don't want that water staining those shoes of yours."
With some quick footwork, Miwah flipped the buck upside down and promptly perched herself on top. She kept her nose plugged as she faced the direction of Tamma's voice. "Did you find the door?"
"I did." The hunter gave the handle a jolt. "There's something blocking the way."
"I'll go outside and see what it is." Yalch left the room, floating right through Tamma and then the door itself. During the short period of time that he was gone, there was only silence in the room. The muffled ruckus of the celebration beyond the exit dampened only exacerbated the Purifiers' situation.
"You two still here?" Yalch asked. There was a short silence.
"Yes!" Both Miwah and Tamma shouted back.
"Oh, right. Sorry. It's too dark to see either one of you."
"What's going on outside, Yalch?" Tamma asked, annoyed.
"There's a chair stuck between the door handle and the floor. And even if you do manage to get free, it looks like every single Cutthroat here is enjoying a banquet in the dining area."
"So you're saying we're as good as done then, huh?" Tamma replied.
"No, no." The ghost waved his hands only for the other two to not see the motion. "I've seen Purifiers get out of far worse situations. There's still someone else with Potential here. All I have to do is find her and maybe we can work something out to get you two free!"
"I just hope it won't turn out like the last time you went scouting for someone with Potential!" Tamma said, crossing her arms.
"Do we have any other option?" the ghost replied with a shrug of his arms. The gesture went unnoticed by the two women.
"It is not like we have much of a choice, Tamma," Miwah said as she tiptoed across the now-drenched floor. With her hands stretched in front of her, she felt around for the front door before giving it a short push. "Either we put our fate in Yalch's... intangible hands... or we let these Cutthroats have free reign."
A short silence ensued only to be broken by a low sigh from the hunter. "Fine," Tamma groaned. She waved her hand with a shooing motion directed at the ghost. "Go on. Let's see if this plan of yours can get us out of this mess that your Purifier got us into." After the snide comment, Miwah peered over her shoulder and gave Tamma the meanest glare she could muster.
"You don't think that I know you're looking at me, lass?" Tamma called out. Miwah shook her head before turning around to face the door again and giving it another shove.
"I'll be right back!" Yalch whispered as he saluted the pair by putting his hand on his forehead. "Just... make sure to stay alive while I'm gone!"
"Not like we have anything else to do," a bitter Tamma responded.
In the next instant the ghost was gone. Miwah and Tamma paced the narrow space in silence, waiting for the other to say something first. As their silent standoff continued, the loud noise coming from the crowd just beyond the closet got louder. Glass shattered. People screamed, followed by a loud and sinister cackling. Miwah jumped back from the abrupt noise and bumped into Tamma.
"You all right lass?" the hunter said as her hands held onto Miwah's shoulders.
The seamstress nodded slowly while staring at the door. "Y-yes," Miwah murmured as she steadied herself back onto her feet. "It is just... this all feels so... familiar." Both Tamma and Miwah silent; despite the ruckus outside the door, the sound of Miwah's heightened breathing overcame all else.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
"I can feel your heart through your back, lass."
The seamstress put her hand over her forehead and took a series of slow steps back. "I feel like... I am back at my village. The dark space. The shouting of men..." The sound of shattering glass made Miwah jump back and bump into the shelves perched against the wall. Her breathing intensified as she clutched her heart with one hand.
"Miwah!" Tamma cried. "Are you all right?"
Instead of replying, the seamstress began to sob. She buried her face into the palms of her hands and let her tears run down skin. Miwah crouched and propped her back against the shelf behind her. Tamma meandered through the disorganized the storage space and took a spot next to Miwah. She placed one hand on the crying seamstress and gave her back a gentle.
"We'll get through this, Miwah."
The seamstress sighed. She lifted her head and looked in the direction of the hunter's voice. "I wish I could believe you, Tamma. I really do."
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"Come on Yalch. Just focus."
The ghost hovered above the commotion of the dinging area of the inn. His antennas twitched fervently as he floated just below the ceilings. His eyes scoured the large crowd and watched with worry as the men ate and drank to the dismay of the patrons that weren't Cutthroats. Alcohol flowed. Meat and bread were torn to bits by ravenous bandits. Everyone else took to a separate part of the inn, eyeing the violent group with fear. Yalch took one more look at the closet where Miwah and Tamma were stored before flying through the ceiling.
"She's got to be around here somewhere..."
Yalch poked his body just high enough through the floor so only his eyes protruded above the ground. The hall was empty with all the doors shut save for one to his right. With his body still only half sticking out of the ground, Yalch hovered forward with his eyes drifting towards the interior of the open room. His antennas flailed wildly as he inched closer.
"What is it now, Daego?" A harsh yet feminine voice shouted. "You gotten yourself into trouble again, eh?"
"It's not just me this time, Aurrie!" Daego pleaded. Hearing the familiar name prompted Yalch to linger in the corner of the door's entryway. "I-I managed... to get some other people in trouble."
"An' what's that gotta do with us, huh?" the same woman replied. Yalch poked his head just far enough past the corner of the door's frame to look inside the room. Daego stood in front of the entryway, his posture slump while his arms crossed behind his back. In the other end stood a young woman with long auburn hair. She lifted her arms and spread a blanket open and stretched over the length of the bed. "You act like this ain't the first time ya gotten some simpletons into a mess."
"I know, Aurrie. I know. But this is serious this time!" Daego stepped forward, his heads shaking in a pleading motion. "There's a lot more on the line here than a few coins! We're talking about lives are on the line."
In a huff Aurrie tossed the blanket back on the bed and turned to face Daego with one hand on her hip and a finger pointing towards his face. "What do you want me to do about it, Daego? I'm tired of havin' to tidying up after all yer messes! Just because I'm a housekeeper doesn't mean I can go around cleanin' up after all the mistake ya made!" Aurrie waved her hand and looked at the scraps of food scattered across the floor and the rags strewn about while keeping a mean look on her face. "I've got my own problems to deal with, Deago! These Cutthroats have been leavin' this place in shambles all week. I don't got the time to go out and riskin' my neck for some people you suckered."
"This will be the time I swindle anyone. Ever." Daego darted next to Aurrie's side and took hold of her wrist with both hands. "Please, Aurrie. I need all the help I can get! Maybe if we could just—"
The housekeeper jerked her arm back and broke free from Daego's gentle grip. "You said you got those girls in the clutches of the Cutthroats?"
The swindler nodded softly.
"Right. And you expect the two of us to do something about it, right?" Aurrie squinted her eyes as Daego averted his gaze away in embarrassment.
"That's the first part of the plan."
"All right. An' what's the second part ya had planned, eh? Did ya want me to distract with trays o' beer? Swing my hips a bit to steal their gaze and then you come in from behind and plunge that dinky lil dagger o' yours into their necks."
"I suppose that could work," Daego replied, his tone shifting to one of contemplation as he pondered Aurrie's proposal.
"I was just jokin', ya know?"
"We can come up with something. I know we can."
Aurrie closed her eyes and turned to the side. "You're the one that's always lookin' to scam with someone. I'm surprised that ya ain't got something up in that brilliant brain o' yours." She reached over and tapped Daego on the forehead with her pointer finger.
"Fine. If you need a solid plan to convince you, I'll come up with one right now!" Daego took a seat on the edge of the room's lone bed and rested his head on the palm of his hand.
"Go ahead and try to come up with somethin,'" an annoyed Aurried bemoaned. "But I don't want ya blamin' me when someone else faces the consequences of your actions."
The swindler sighed as he remained seated on the edge of the bed while his fingers rubbed the temples of his head. Aurrie continued to move around the room, picking up the various messes scattered across the room. Seeing that the woman was distracted with her cleaning, Yalch moved in. He elevated his body slowly while closing in on the housekeeper’s location. Her back remained turned to the ghost as he floated past a pensive Daego.
"Ya know Daego," Aurrie said as she stood up from removing a glass mug from the floor. "If you would just—"
Aurrie turned around and found a bewildered Yalch floating inches in front of her face. She let out a loud yelp as she darted back, her arms letting go of the clutter in her hands. The mug shattered when it hit the wooden floor and snapped Daego out of his contemplative state.
"Aurrie!" The swindler hopped off the bed and ran to her side, walking through Yalch before placing a hand on her trembling shoulder. "What happened!"
"W-what?" Aurrie's eyes jumped between Yalch and Daego. "Y-you don't see... that?" She pointed at the center of Yalch's placid face. Daego leaned forward and squinted in the direction of Aurrie's finger.
"The wall?"
Yalch bobbed up and down, his calm face presenting a smile as he covered his mouth to hide his chuckling. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the ghost said, his words broken up with spurts of laughter. "I really need to work on how I introduce myself."