18 Tagsibol, 891 ED

Gitna, 23:13

Milagre, Empire of Tyrman

The light spilling out onto the street from the taproom of the Heron was a welcome sight to Gogo and me. We were already tired when we’d made our way into Milagre, and the fight against the members of the Thieves Guild hadn’t made things better. But we were done with that nonsense, at last, I thought, stumbling tiredly through the doors.

Despite the lateness of the hour, the taproom was already packed. Nearly a hundred people could sit comfortably in the magically extended taproom. The noise was nowhere as loud as I expected, though. Even by the door, it registered as a pleasant sort of hum, still quiet enough to allow the music on the far side of the taproom to reach them all easily.

The room didn’t quite go quiet at the sight of two figures that had clearly just gotten out of a fight stepping through the main doors, even if one of them was still bleeding. But the volume did dip significantly, and I caught more than one concerned look in my direction. I glance down at my wounds as if just remembering that they were there.

“Dear, dear,” A kind and warm voice reached my ears, making me turn to the right. A woman with wavy red hair was making her way over to me, tut-tutting like a worried mother. I swallowed nervously as she approached, worried that my bleeding would make her cross. But instead, she pushed me gently into a nearby unoccupied seat and checked the injuries with one light hand.

“Are you terribly injured, dear?” She asked, glancing up at my face. “Should I call for a healer?”

I shook my head. Already, I could feel the healing magic starting to restore me. The rapid healing wouldn’t take effect for a while yet, but I wasn’t in any danger of dying now. “No, I’ll be fine. I’m so sorry for this, I didn’t mean to bring blood into your establishment.”

She waved the apology aside. “It’s nothing, dear. I’m nothing if not a good cleaner.”

And in the same casual manner, she half-turned to regard a bucket of soapy water nearby. I felt the flash of magic that came as she commanded it with her mana. It skidded across the worn wooden floor, slopping a large amount of hot water across the floor. A sponge appeared out of nowhere, scrubbing at the small spots of blood that I’d dripped, quickly getting rid of them. The woman herself stood up, letting out a sigh of satisfaction.

Mandra Moran, known around the world for the quality of her food, her kind maternal air, and knowing just about everyone that came through her doors, was even more interesting to behold than when I’d imagined her in my mind. She appeared to be in her early thirties, with a gracefully curved figure, though still thin enough to show that she was a hard worker.

Her hair, a muted fiery red in color, was tied back away from her face by a simple ponytail. Her green dress was plain, but elegant in its simplicity. She was a natural beauty and had turned heads nearly all her life. Men, and even some women, fell for her natural charm and caring green eyes. She wore no flashy jewelry, just a highly polished gold band around her right ring finger, and a pendant to Minerva, the Goddess of Maidens and Battle, around her neck.

“That’ll do,” she said quietly in the direction of the sponge and bucket, both of which slid obediently back to their place against the bar. “Well, if you’re sure, I’ll get you a clean shirt at least.”

And before I could say anything in reply, she’d whisked away. The patrons around us seemed much friendlier now, perhaps only because of how Mandra had reacted to us. I glanced up at Gogo, who had a slightly star-struck look in his eyes. He was staring after Mandra with an open mouth, and his entire body had leaned forward slightly. He only glanced around when I let out a snort of laughter.

“She’s gorgeous,” Gogo said, sitting weakly in the chair opposite me, though keeping his body turned to the place where Mandra had vanished. “And powerful. I wouldn’t dare cross her.”

“That’s a lesson that takes many some time to learn,” I said, still chuckling. “Be glad you learned that right away.”

“What a woman,” Gogo replied. His voice was so quiet that I was sure he hadn’t meant to say the words aloud. “I think I’m in love.”

“You and everyone else,” I replied, making him jump. “Put your eyes back in, here she comes.”

Mandra had returned quickly, holding a dark grey tunic. She handed it over to me at once, turning to include Gogo in her smile now. “Just slip that on. Now then, would you two like something to eat? Perhaps a drink?”

“I’ll have whatever you think is best, Mandra,” I said, unclipping the belt that held my shirt in place. The corner in which we sat was particularly dimly lit, and Mandra hid me from the view of everyone else, allowing me to quickly change. Before I’d managed to tug the new tunic on, I felt the energy of my passive healing kick in. Before the eyes of Gogo and Mandra, the wounds closed themselves, and even the blood that had smeared across my skin vanished. Letting out a sigh of satisfaction, I tugged the tunic over my head and reattached the belt.

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“Oh,” Mandra gasped, shocked. She glanced from my stomach where she’d seen the worst injury to my face and suddenly smiled again. “I see I have a special guest. Well, dear, you’re not the first Ancient to honor my simple restaurant.”

“Not so simple,” Gogo put in, glancing across the rest of the room to take in the nearly hundred people enjoying food. “I’ve heard of your cooking as far as Zaban.”

Mandra shrugged in a humble sort of way. “Very well. One night special. All we’ve got left is some cream chicken on rice, but I can sneak you a piece of pie. You want anything to drink, dear?”

“Just some tea,” I said, then glanced at Gogo. “Same good for you?”

Gogo nodded, and Mandra moved away with another smile, leaving us to ourselves. By now, the interest of the other patrons had vanished. Violence wasn’t something new to the people of Milagre, and it seemed that they thought we weren’t a threat to the safety of the night, so they’d returned their attention to what was important. Servers moved among the huge room, delivering meals and offering refills. The band kicked up a new song, one with a faster pace, and soon had the room cheering in encouragement, urging them on with fists thumping into tables.

“Stormsong wasn’t exaggerating,” Gogo said with wide eyes, studying the room. “She must be good to have so many fans.”

“That doesn’t even do her justice,” I said in agreement, hiding a smirk. It was awe-inspiring to see a scene I’d written a dozen times play out in front of my eyes, I thought. Yet another example of how imagining something in my mind couldn’t compare to witnessing it in reality.

If I’d thought that meeting one legend and familiar character would be the most exciting thing that happened that night, I was sorely mistaken. Gogo and I enjoyed our food when it came, and talked amicably as the night wore on. Patrons coming in were slower because the restaurant had closed. Still, some came in for a drink, mainly those that spent all day working on the farms or in the markets. These folks were the ones that rose early and slept late, and Mandra remained open for them, ensuring they had something in their stomach before they went to bed.

It was just over two hours into the next day when the doors opened and a new figure appeared. I’d had some blood on me when I’d entered, but it was nothing compared to this figure. But they paused in the doorway, glancing down at themselves, and, seeing the mire on their clothes, let out a long sigh, then called over her shoulder.

“Sefina, you could have told me my clothes were a mess! What if Mandra saw me looking like this?”

A quiet and indistinct reply came through the door, and the young woman waved one hand lazily over her outfit. The blood vanished into thin air, and the other signs of filth went with it, leaving a simple dark blue tunic and white leggings behind. Without the mess, I recognized her at once. The dark red hair that cascaded down to her shoulders was a dead giveaway, as was the crest on the small half-cape she wore. A silver hawk in flight. Only members of the Bragg family wore that crest.

“Elena!” Mandra’s voice rang out across the nearly abandoned taproom, full of delight. “I’m so glad you came by for a visit!”

She swooped over and enveloped the young woman in her arms, hugging her tightly. Elena returned the embrace, but in a tired way, as if she longed for nothing more than to get off her feet. She smiled up at Mandra, her green eyes showing her weariness. “Good evening Mandra. I did promise I’d stop by. I just got a little held up with some bandits, nothing more.”

Mandra clicked her tongue. “I’ve always said you work too hard, dear. I’m of half a mind to give your father a piece of my mind.”

That made Elena laugh. Even I smiled, apart from the conversation. Elena’s father, Samuel Bragg, was arguably the strongest mage and best swordsman to exist in the city. Not that any of his skill and fame mattered a bit when measured against Mandra, of course. I could imagine it now, the great and famous Prime Magus shrinking several feet as Mandra scolded him.

“Don’t worry yourself,” Elena told her. “He’s busy too. I’m just doing my part. Come in, Sefina.”

Another young woman, perhaps only a year or two older than her, stepped into the light from the street outside. With a tanned face and long black hair braided into intricate knots, she had a fierce face. Violet eyes peered out at the room, studying it critically, even sweeping over Gogo and me before resting on Mandra. “Good evening, Mistress Moran.”

“Oh, dear,” Mandra said fondly, “I thought I told you not to be so formal with me. I’ve known your father for ages as well, you know. You’re practically family.”

Suddenly, I realized that I was in a room with two Ancients, and a cold hand gripped my insides. Well, Elena was only half-Ancient, but that was a minor distinction. The thing about Ancient ancestry was that it kind of overpowered everything else. Even half-Ancient, she was powerful. It was the first time since arriving in Ahya that I’d seen another Ancient, let alone one. Could they sense what I was? Those eyes saw a lot, after all.

“Sorry,” Sefina said, inclining her head slightly in acknowledgment of Mandra’s words. “It’s been a long day, after all.”

Mandra nodded wisely, already leading the two girls away toward an empty table. “That’s alright, dear. Come and sit down. You look positively exhausted. I’ll get Roderic to whip something up for you. Do you want a room for the night, or will you be returning to the forest tonight?”

They walked out of earshot then, and I couldn’t catch Elena’s reply. I looked straight ahead, forgetting about my meal in my nervousness. Gogo was watching me with mild concern, reading the panic on my face. “What is it?”

I shook my head quickly, warning him against bringing attention to my reaction. “I know those two. And they cannot know what I am.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t tell you why,” I said quickly. “Just trust me. If they discover who and what I am, then they’ll tell their fathers. That won’t go well for me.”