They sat down around the largest table that was unoccupied, relatively isolated away from prying ears. From the moment they entered the tavern, all of them felt watched, scouted and observed. Each of them felt threatened to a degree that varied depending on their own experience. Harian was calm on the outside, yet in his mind, he had already prepared multiple scenarios of how to dispatch all possible threats quickly. Suranihr wondered how many of the ragged, reeking people around him had daggers hidden underneath their clothes. Naira felt the worst of them all, realizing that in such an enclosed space, all of her explosive or volatile weaponry would be either too dangerous or too cumbersome to use efficiently…

Auria was completely calm. Her projector was comfortably tucked in what looked like an ordinary backpack, yet she was intuitively using it to scan everybody around her. She knew that in this room, in this whole tavern, there was not a soul that posed a real threat to them… Or was there?

A bolt shot from a small, hand-held crossbow would kill her as surely as a dagger buried into her heart, and there were plenty of people in the room with them, all of them watching her with bloodshot eyes, tense faces and quick, jerking movements…

But there was one particular person that reeked of death. Not that he was a trained killer but Auria literally smelled death rising from his clothes, skin and dark hair. He tried to hide his stare, yet his eyes often flicked towards her unrelenting gaze. He was the only one in the room she did not observe through the projector. He did not fit in among the common rabble.

His face was that of an aristocrat - proud and stern, marred by wrinkles around his eyes that spoke of thousands of hard decisions that were laid upon his broad shoulders. Although he tried to look like a commoner, a slight twitch in the corners of his mouth each time he took a sip of sour ale revealed that he was used to a much finer drink, perhaps sweet red wine from Ladrurg or honeyed Malorean beer. And the language of his body… Auria was reminded of a walking corpse, of someone that had already died and was given a second chance, to start anew, rise again from nothing, yet he did not look like he was enjoying that second chance. His body was tense, poised to strike, hate and fury emanating from each slight movement he made…

For a moment, she saw someone else sitting in front of her - an everchanging face of The Creator - but she realized that those two were miles away from each other. She realized her own wrong assumptions - it was not just the hate that emanated from the man, there was something else… A purpose. A vengeance, perhaps?

But why did he look at her? Why only her?

“Look away, Auria. You’re staring at him for too long.” Harian’s voice brought her back to reality. She coughed and a stab of pain lashed through her head, which made her instinctively reach for the pipe and herbal mixture. “It wasn’t intentional. He keeps staring at me.”

“I’ve noticed. But I don’t think he poses us any threat.” Harian smiled at them reassuringly. “I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere…”

“Me too.” Suranihr nodded. “But I can’t place him.”

“Same here. His face is… really familiar.” Auria muttered, more to herself than to anybody else.

“We should find out why he is as interested in us as he looks.” Naira muttered. “But in a way that he would not expect.”

“What do you mean?” Auria asked with honest curiosity.

“He showed obvious interest - perhaps it is a trap. Perhaps he expects one of us to follow him out of this place, somewhere… I propose that we do something he would never anticipate.”

“And that would be…?”

Naira turned towards Auria. “We should either invite him to sit with us, or you should walk straight towards him and sit down. We will observe, and act if necessary.”

“That’s…” Suranihr started, but did not finish the sentence. Instead, Harian laughed loudly. “Not a bad idea at all. Well, medic, it’s up to you to choose the course of action. What do you think would unsettle him more?”

***

Argyl woke up with nausea clenching his stomach in a vice. Slowly, he tried to rise from his bed, only to realize that he was strapped securely to a surgeon’s table. Above him, the eyes of a young woman with her mouth hidden beneath a layer of white cloth watched him intently.

“Rest, triarch. You will be alright, but you need to rest.”

“Where am I?” Argyl asked with a raspy voice, his mouth drier than Rooskurian desert.

“You’ve collapsed.” Larais appeared above him, her mouth hidden behind the cloth as well. “We’ve suspected that you came down with the plague that is spreading through the Citadel, but luckily, that was not the case.”

“Why am I strapped? Give me water…” Argyl started to shake his arms as much as restraints allowed him to. “Get it off, now.” His voice, although coming from a dried mouth, was strong and commanding. Soon, the straps were undone and he held a half-emptied pitcher of cool water. “Why did you strap me?”

“You thrashed around. Violently, I might add. You hurt my… helper.” Young medic said without a hint of mirth. “You were brought here with plague in mind, and so we treated you with plague in mind. Luckily, it worked well enough and you are fine, for now.”

“Meaning?” He turned towards the young medic, a bad feeling nestled in his nauseous gut.

Both women were silent for a short moment, and Argyl repeated himself. “Meaning?” Anger colored his voice.

“You are quarantined.” Larais said resolutely.

“I am what now?” Argyl could not hide the surprise.

“I have patients to tend to.” Young medic said as she turned to leave. “This is no longer my concern. At the moment, you are healthy, triarch, and I wish that I will not see you again on my table.”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Thank you, Keena.” Larais bowed her head slightly towards the young medic. “ This is indeed no longer your concern.” She turned towards Argyl and took down the cloth from her face. “Listen to me. You were poisoned. What is it you remember last?”

“I… What? Poisoned?” Nausea hit him again, his vision spun around, his body spasmed slightly.

“Focus Argyl. Is there anyone you’ve been with that you don’t know? A new cook, maid? Any new whores you’ve used, some Glaerian girls perhaps?”

His face showed a hint of hurt. “Fuck you, Larais. You think of me that low?”

She rolled her eyes. “I am trying to save your life, not your ego. Think, Argyl. What do you remember last? Where were you, who were you with?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. For fuck’s sake, most of my time I am with you and Ceryna, trying to extinguish the firestorm that enveloped our homes! Other than that… I’m sleeping.”

“Alone?” Larais asked softly.

“Yes I sleep fucking alone! No whores, no brothels, nothing of sorts.”

“Alright, I believe you. It actually makes sense, you know. The poison did not kill you, which means that it had to be diluted heavily. The person that tried to kill you could not apply it directly… They had to put it into your food or drink perhaps, but long before you ingested it.”

Argyl lied down heavily, a desperate sigh coming out of his mouth. “Why, Larais? Why does this shit show happen to me? the refugees, the monsters in the docks, the possibility of war and bloodshed, the plague, to poisoning…”

She shrugged softly. “Perhaps you were a bad person in your past life. Or perhaps all the people are bad, and at the moment, there are too many of us in this world. The evil concentrates, and you are the one to get hit by it all.”

***

“Excuse me?”

Heers choked on the ale as a white-haired woman walked right to him and spoke.

“Is this seat taken?” She asked, and without waiting for an invitation, she sat down with a mug of her own in her hand.

“I am Auria. And you are?” She asked, her smile wide and bright, spreading from the beautiful half of her face right into the blackened horror of a sight.

“Hee… Marias.” Heers muttered, almost getting his own name out.

“Hee Marias?” Auria asked. “Now where do I know you from? Your face seems… familiar.”

“Marias.” Heers repeated himself. “Don’t know, lady.”

Auria stared into his eyes and she could swear that she sat that face somewhere… or perhaps one similar to him. “Do you have a daughter, Marias?”

He stiffened, the facade of dumb helper of a morgue keeper gone in an instant.

“What do you want?” He asked Auria with a hint of a dagger in his words.

“What do I want? You’ve been staring at me since I came into this… hole.” She gestured around them with the mug. “You’re staring at me as if I was the death itself, yet you are the one reeking of corpses.”

“Who are you?” He asked her, ready to…

Heers wasn’t sure what he was readying himself to do. To run? To attack? Neither of those options seemed like a viable idea. Perhaps all that was left was to actually speak to the woman.

“I am Auria. I’ve said that already. And you are… not who you say you are. Your act needs to be worked on. Your clothes and odor scream beggar, yet your body, your face, and mainly your eyes scream of power. You are used to command, not to beg.”

He was cornered, and he did not see much reason in playing an act anymore. Yet it did not mean that he had to tell her anything. “Maybe.”

“Ha, I fucking knew it. Now, I know that I’ve seen your face somewhere… Or one very similar to yours. I’ve asked whether you had a daughter, and your act has changed completely. That means that you do have a daughter.” She leant back against the backrest of the wooden bench she sat on. “Perhaps I’ve met her.”

“Perhaps. I…” He fell silent, emotions shifting his face from nervousness to anger, from fear to resolve. He stood up suddenly, his posture strong and stoic. “I have to leave. Goodbye, miss Auria.”

She watched him leave, her eyes narrowed, her forehead wrinkled with deep thoughts. Her eyes seeked out Harian that returned her sight with a slight nod as he stood up and followed Marias out of the tavern. Auria sat down back with Naira and Suranihr, her mind almost blank with a single thought remaining inside her. Why was that man’s face so familiar to her?

***

Heers hurried through narrow alleyways, not taking care of where he stepped - a puddle of pisswater or stinking mud, it was of no concern to him. What concerned him was the feeling of imminent threat, the death’s scythe pushed against his neck, the witches’ fingernail pressed against his heart. Even now, he felt as if he was watched, but even after turning his head around frequently, he saw no one. Still, he could not hide the feeling of being watched.

He took the long way back to his current, although temporary home, trying to confuse his potential stalker. After a good half an hour, he stood in front of his rented room, nearly at the same place that he left his half-drank mug at.

As he entered the dim room and locked his doors behind him, he immediately pressed his face against the small sliver between the wooden door curved by age and the door frame. He looked out, watching through the thin gap, seeking… something. someone. He expected to see the shrouded figure of white-haired woman walking towards his room, death following trailing footsteps. He expected an image of a killer hidden in shadows, or a slight glint of light reflected from a venom-coated dart heading for his eyes right through the small gap…

What he did not expect was the familiar voice that came from behind him, right from his bed.

“Are you being watched?”

He spun around quickly, his arms raised to counter the strike that never came, only to see an already naked figure of a woman lying seductively in his bed. He did not pay attention to her bare round breasts, to her hard nipples pointing right towards him, or to her richly colored mouth curved in a slightly depraved smile.

“You again?”

“Me. Is something wrong?” The woman asked, trying her best not to change anything in her posture. Only her voice changed from seductive to slightly alarmed.

“Maybe. I’ve… met someone. I don’t know what to think. I think my cover is blown - she knew I was not who I’m acting to be.”

“Interesting. Describe her to me.”

Heers turned back towards the gap to look out. “White hair, scarred face. She had companions, three of them. Two seasoned killers, one very cold woman.”

The woman sighed with relief. “That makes our job easier. It’s actually what I came to tell you, to look out for these particular… individuals. And finally, they are here.”

Heers turned towards her. “What are you…” He stopped talking as the woman stood up and walked towards him,seductively swinging her hips. As she pulled him by his clothes and pressed her naked body against him, she licked his earlobe and let out a soft sigh. “Be silent now.” She whispered. “If they are here, we are certainly being watched and listened upon.” She stuck her tongue deep into his mouth, pushing her warm hand down his pants, gripping his already hard cock in a hot embrace. Her soft words felt like sweet honey in his ears, her flowery fragrance filling his nostrils, sending shivers of desire down his body. “If we are being observed, we need to give them something to watch. Let’s make this as eventful for them as it will be for us. In the morning, they will be gone, and we will talk.”

***

Harian watched the unfolding debauchery without a hint of arousal. Something was amiss. They were not an ordinary couple, that he was sure of. No ordinary couple would fuck as obscenely and loudly as they did - It felt more like theatrics than honest, emotion-filled sex, and he understood that it was just a show for him. They knew that he watched, yet he was sure that no one saw him…

That meant only one thing - they knew. They knew that their peace envoy came to the golden city, and they were expected. The only problem was that Harian had no idea who they were.

There were two possible courses of action he could take - to stay, watch, and trail the woman wherever she will go and find out who they were… Or to return and warn Auria and company.

He growled silently through clenched teeth as he realized he had nothing to choose from. He had to return to his current group, and they had to plan ahead. At the same time, he knew that the man inside was important in one way or another, and Harian knew that their paths would cross again very shortly.