The sound of heavy rain woke her from a deep sleep.

Her dark bronze eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim, gray light that filled her small bedroom. She turned to look out the grimy window on the opposite wall but couldn’t see past the onslaught of steady rain and fog. She propped herself up on her elbow and attempted to smooth back her long, dark hair, knotted from sleep. She shook her head, eager to be rid of the dark shadowy images that had filled her dreams. It was not unusual for her to suffer from nightmares. In fact, it was something that happened almost nightly for as long as she could remember. There were dark shapes with glowing eyes and lurking shadows that whispered to her. It was never exactly the same dream but always similar. As a child she would sometimes wake, screaming in terror about the creatures who she could never quite describe right. Their images in her memory were shadowy and blurry around the edges but absolutely grotesque and terrible. Her mother would comfort her and tell her the things she saw wouldn’t hurt her. Over the years she had somehow grown used to the strange nighttime images that plagued her. The figures became familiar to her. Her mother was right, they never seemed to want to do her harm, she’d just float among them, hearing their haunting whispers of fragmented words. Some she could understand and some she couldn’t.

This past night was different. She still floated, weightless in the dark and shadowy place within her mind. The figures swirled around her, as usual, as she slowly tumbled and turned in the open air. It was completely black in this place, like night without any stars or moon. She could still make out the twisting, writhing shadowy figures around her though. They didn’t really have a definitive shape but occasionally she could see their dimly glowing red eyes as they swirled past, ever in motion. She thought maybe this was why she couldn’t ever understand more than a word at a time. They seemed be pulled around by some invisible force while she hung suspended in place in their midst. Last night they had seemed even more restless than usual. She was surprised to remember they had all been whispering the same words to her over and over. They had said her name a lot, which wasn’t unusual. But they had also whispered other, more disturbing things, as they tumbled past. ’Death, time, and he comes’ seemed to be the theme. The shadows had never been so.. in sync before, she realized. Besides her name, they rarely ever said the same word repeatedly in the same dream. While what they did say sometimes disturbed her, it was never quite as persistent as this. As the images swirled, almost real, in her waining subconscious, goosebumps covered her body and she shivered.

As the threads of sleep left her mind, the confusing dream-like images were sharply replaced by her own real life nightmare. As the reality of this day broke through, she clutched her head in renewed grief. A strangled sob worked its way up her throat and came out as a distorted gasp as she put her hand over her mouth. Of course her dreams had been even more haunted than usual, she realized. It only seemed natural for them to try and match the utter horror of her current reality.

She swayed to the bathroom, clutching her head in her hands. She grabbed the edge of the small washbasin and looked at her reflection in the tarnished mirror, fastened to the wall above. Her normally pale face was even more devoid of color, staring gray and sickly back. Her eyes were rimmed with dark circles, despite her full night of sleep. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot, making her strange bronze irises stand out even more. She hated her eyes. In certain lighting they looked almost dark crimson. Some people, mostly those associated with the church or similar, assumed she was possessed by some evil. The worst part was she wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t, much to her mother’s upset.

She washed up as much as she felt necessary to make herself relatively presentable. She combed her long hair with her dragon bone comb until no knots remained, something that was normally a soothing practice, now taking much willpower to finish. When she was done she clutched the comb in her hands, following the familiar golden paint and intricate carvings that covered the handle. A message was carved elegantly along the edge of the handle. She slowly ran her thumb over the words. They were written in an ancient Fey language and she had long ago memorized them and their meaning: ‘Zara - Light of my Life, there is always hope. Look to the light. Let it guide you.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she set the comb down in its place next to the basin. It was a birthday gift from her mother on her 10th birthday. It had been a hard birthday, the first she had celebrated alone after her sister disappeared. It was a the hardest time of her life so far. Her mother had spent every extra penny they had over the previous six months trying to find her sister and they had sold most of their possessions and their home. They had moved into the busier part of town, away from the quiet outskirts, into the two bedroom apartment they shared now. Neither of them cared much as they would rather have had Kalmia back with them over any possession. Every search had come up with no answers. Her mother had saved and gotten her this special gift to take her mind off the pain. Almost eleven years later and it was still as beautiful as the first time she saw it. The words had been spoken to her by her mother countless times. When she closed her eyes she could still hear her mother’s voice speaking them clearly. They were her motto, especially in times of emotion and worry in her life growing up.

She muttered the words under her breath in their original language as she dressed in her long black gown. It was a rental. She didn’t own fine clothes like this and didn’t care to. She looked out the window and sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. She knew it was time for her mother’s funeral but she wasn’t mentally ready to say goodbye. She knew she would never be ready. She made her way to the door pulled her cloak off off the hook next to it. It was another gift and shimmered slightly in the light, the fabric an inky black and rimmed with a dark red. Her mother told her it brought out her eyes. Zara didn’t think she needed any help making them stand out but admitted it was a handsome cloak. It was enhanced with a spell that made it repel water. The spell had started to wear off over the years but it still kept her dry unless the rain was very hard. She looked outside again…. It looked like today was one of those days.

_____________

Zara trudged through the water and muck after the ceremony, making her way along the mostly deserted streets. Everyone was staying indoors to avoid the horrible weather, except for the unfortunate souls who had business today. She kept her head down, letting the tears drip from her eyes and be washed away as she walked. The ceremony had been short and simple. Only herself and a few friends had come. They had no other family so the few friends were all they had. Her mother was likable enough but they kept to themselves for the most part.

Zara slowly made her way through town toward the docks, not caring she was getting soaked in the process. She was almost surprised when she unconsciously made it to her destination. She looked up at the worn, barely legible sign above the door. The Fisherman. She pushed open the front door and made her way into the bar she had begun to think of as a second home. She put up her hand in a wave to the barman, Luis, as he was wiping down the sleek bar-top. He looked surprised but gave her a warm smile.

“Good morning, Zara!” He called cheerily before seeing the look on her face.

He set down the dirty rag and wiped his hands on his apron as he made his way around the bar toward her. She turned her face away, not wanting to look at him as he approached. He pulled her into a tight hug, ignoring the fact that she was soaked. He held her for a minute before pulling back and holding her shoulders at arms length, staring into her eyes. An act most people seemed almost unconsciously afraid to do.

“Zara,” He began, “I am so sorry about your mother. I know today must have been so hard on you.”

Zara nodded once, not willing or able to respond. A lump had formed in her throat and she knew she was on the verge of sobbing again.

Luis let go of her and gently pushed her down onto a stool, reaching around her to remove the cloak. She let him, hanging her head to avoid his worried eyes. He hung it by the fireplace as he steered her toward one of the plump arm chairs in the corner of the room.

“You’re freezing, Zar,” he said as she sat down. “You’re shaking like crazy. Stay here while I get you something to warm up.”

She didn’t look up as he walked away, listening as his footsteps retreated behind the bar and up the stairs where she knew his private quarters to be. His father, Julius, would be up there, she knew. They ran the bar together. Zara’s mother worked here ever since Zara was a young girl. She glanced the way Luis had gone and remembered she and her sister would play dolls in the stairway some nights while their mother worked. Julius was always kind to them and would give them a copper piece to go get frozen custard from the docks in the summertime. She knew he had been sick for some time, usually staying in the private quarters now while Luis ran the bar. When her mother got sick, Zara had begged them to give her a job but Luis was hesitant to let her tend the bar. He said she was far too young but she knew he was worried about the patrons harassing her. He had always acted like something of a father to her, as much as her mother would allow anyway. Zara had always suspected he was interested in her mother but as far as she could tell, they were never more than friends.

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Luis returned with a thick cotton blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. He sat in the chair next to her, leaned his head back and sighed. She stole a look at him as he closed his eyes. She suddenly noticed how old he looked. She always thought him to be handsome for an older man but he looked very tired now, his normally tidy hair disheveled and graying. She turned to stare into the fire, numb with grief for her mother, barely feeling the heat from the hearth.

After a few minutes Luis got up from his seat. He returned to the bar and resumed his cleaning. He didn’t say anything else to her but occasionally she could feel him looking at her. She continued to stare into the flames, watching them dance and thinking about her mom. After a very long time, Luis came over to add another log to the fire. Zara was broken out of her trance and she shook out her hair, now mostly dry. She ran her fingers through it absentmindedly, as Luis managed the fire. He chuckled and she paused, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, Zara reluctantly spoke up.

Her voice was hoarse as she asked, “What’s so funny?”

Luis beamed at her, “Your mother used to do the same thing”.

When she didn’t say anything and just stared at him blankly, he motioned to her hair in her hand.

“She used to play with her hair when she was deep in thought or when she was worried,” he explained, now ramming a poker into the flames, making sparks fly. “You even have her same hair, that same shiny raven.”

She looked into his eyes now and was surprised to see they were full of tears too. She gave him a real, genuine smile, despite the biting pain in her heart. It was the biggest one she could manage but she imagined it still looked pitiful. He smiled back and wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

“I think you need a strong drink,” he said and went back to the bar again.

Zara raised her eyebrows, perplexed. He never let her drink here. Always said that he made a promise to her mom he would look out for her and couldn’t condone such activities. Even when she would point out that there were plenty of places that would serve her he would adamantly insist “not under my roof.”

He came back with a large glass of a red liquid. She gazed into in, eyebrows still raised. She looked up at him questioningly. He was smiling at her.

“Don’t get used to it,” he said seriously. “It’s just a little something to help warm you up. Besides… I think you could use a drink after everything you’ve been through lately.”

She tentatively took a sip. Immediately she was filled with warmth, radiating from the inside out. It was a smooth drink that tasted like mead and cinnamon and something else… almost citrusy. It was absolutely delicious.

“What is it?” she asked before taking another sip.

“Fireblood Mead,” he said and laughed as she drank a large sip. “I thought it would be just what you needed.”

She sat for a long time by the fire with her drink. Luis refilled her cup twice before cutting her off. She could feel the heat throughout her body now, especially burning in her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how long had passed but soon patrons were coming in from the docks, looking for a place to dry off after a long day of working in the rain. She assumed it must be late afternoon from the normal customers that had come in. She rose and began tidying up, wiping down tables and washing glasses as they drank their fill and left. Soon every seat was full and some people were even standing. The bar was full of the sounds of people eating, drinking and talking animatedly as alcohol caused. The heavy rain seemed to bring in a larger crowd than usual, everyone looking for a place to escape the torrent. And probably their wives, Zara couldn’t help but think.

Normally Luis would decline her help and send her home around now but it was so busy that he didn’t protest today. She knew he was keeping a close eye on her though as she weaved through the crowd. She tried to keep to herself, kindly answering patrons when they spoke to her but not engaging more than she had to. As the afternoon turned to evening some people were becoming loud and jubilant. There was a minor scuffle which Luis put an immediate stop to and made the involved parties vacate. Luis warned her that it was time for her to leave but if she wouldn’t mind cleaning a few tables before she went. She reluctantly agreed, wanting any excuse not to return back to her empty apartment. She didn’t want to argue though, knowing he had only let her stay this long because she didn’t want to be alone today.

She slowly wiped the tables, making sure to remove every last smudge before moving on to the next one. As she nearer the corner of the bar she felt a presence behind her. She straightened up, expecting it to be Luis telling her time was up when she felt a large hand firmly grip her backside. She whirled around, surprised, to see a large bald man standing behind her. He smiled at her crudely and she noticed two of his front teeth were missing. The ones that remained were mostly black with decay. She could smell the alcohol and rot on his breath as he leaned in close to her.

“I couldn’t help but notice your delicious ass as you bent over to clean those tables,” he said as he closed the already small space between them. She took a step back and found the wall right behind her. She looked around him, trying to see if anyone was paying attention. Luis had his back to her, preparing a drink for someone. Everyone was still talking loudly, drowning out the mans voice from carrying far. She looked him in the eye stubbornly.

“Move,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Ah, don’t be like that sweetie,” he said, reaching up to cup a breast.

Her eyes widened in shock. She reacted instinctively. Her hand came up to his nose, shoving up hard. He took one step back in surprise giving her enough room to slam her knee up into his groin. He let out a loud moan as he dropped to his knees. She sidestepped away from him but his friends had been standing by, watching the exchange.

“Bitch!” one of them yelled, reaching out a hand to grab her by the hair as she tried to go around them.

She dodged but just barely, feeling his hand slide past her head. She spun on the spot, making a fist as she did so. He hesitated for a second in surprise at her quick movement. Her fist connected with the side of his face and he let out a small yelp. She readied herself to hit him again but then Luis was there, pulling her back, a murderous look on his face. The man glared at Luis, balling his hands into fists.

“You better keep your bitch in line or I’ll-.”

The man was cut off as Luis’s fist quickly connected with his face, much harder than Zara’s had. There was a loud crunch as the man’s nose was clearly broken. The bar went dead silent. Every face turned toward them, watching in shock. Luis was a kind man. Zara had never seen him so angry. She knew fights broke out often but he always handled it in a professional, business-like way. He was not a small man by any means and towered over many of the dock men that came in. His muscular arms were clear through his shirt. Most people knew it would be dumb to pick a fight with him. Zara watched in surprise as the men faced him, glowering. She noted the man she had kneed recovered and was glaring at her with a murderous look on his face. There were three in total, all much smaller than Luis in every way.

“Get. Out.” Luis huffed in angry breaths as he glared at them. “Do not come back. Ever.”

They glared back as well but didn’t challenge him. They walked out the door, slamming it shut behind them.

Luis turned to Zara.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his expression turning softer though not completely devoid of anger.

She shook her head, not knowing what to say.

He pointed to the stairs.

“Wait in my room until closing time,” he said. “It is the first door on your left. You are not walking home alone tonight.”

She wanted to object but there was something in his voice that told her she couldn’t. Without a word she went up the stairs and into his room, feeling his eyes watching her until she was out of sight. She opened the door she was instructed to and went inside. It was a simple room but rather spacious compared to her own cramped one at home. She sat on the large bed and waited. She did not want to wait here to be walked home like a little girl. Hadn’t she just proved she could handle herself? She thought about the incident. Would she have been able to handle it if Luis hadn’t stepped in? She wasn’t sure. She wanted to think she could have but she didn’t really know.

Her mother had taught her self defense and some simple combat moves when she was young. It was something they used to practice frequently but stopped as Zara got older and her mother grew weaker. Zara knew her mother had traveled around some before she got pregnant and decided to settle down. She never knew her father as her mother had met him in a city she was visiting. She knew he was a sailor and was there only for a short time. When her mother had found out she was pregnant she had no way to contact him. She wasn’t even sure where he was originally from. She had felt it was her duty to teach her daughters the combat basics so they had a chance to protect themselves if ever needed. This idea only increased after her sister disappeared.

After a while, Zara grew restless and decided to look around the room. There was a small window on the far side and when she passed by it she noticed it opened onto the rooftop of the bar. An idea formed in her mind and she slid the window open. She glanced back at the door once before slipping out onto the rooftop. She walked around the perimeter, trying not to make noise on the slate tiles. She searched for anything she could use to climb or jump down. She peered over the side that was above the alley behind the bar. To her delight she noticed lattice up the side of the building where thick vines with closed up, purplish flowers grew. She carefully lowered her weight onto the lattice, testing it. Satisfied it could hold her weight, she made her way down to the ground below. A breeze blew and she shivered, causing her to run her hands up and down her bare arms to keep warm. She didn’t have her cloak and it was a cool and windy night. At least the rain had stopped for now, she thought to herself as she hurried along. Just as she finished the thought, a loud crash of thunder sounded and she picked up the pace even more. All she needed was to get caught in the rain… again.