Dark-Hair, Sea Eyes

17

Percy made it to the old tavern shortly after putting those soldiers out of commission. They were alive, but they'd never be able to tell anyone anything about him.

"Witch-Princess, where's the old woman?" Percy asked, sitting at the bar. He wouldn't be leaving until nightfall because Abyss would be shot out of the sky by onlooking townsfolk. She looked at him strangely, as if contemplating whether or not she should answer. "My name isn't 'Witch-Princess'," she said stubbornly. Yet, she gave no alternative name for Percy to call her so he didn't care if her name wasn't 'Witch-Princess'. "And she's where?" Percy asked again. "From what I heard, this country's princess chose a suiter and he bolted. They called a town meeting to find him,'' she said.

The witch-princess was cleaning the bar and stacking bar stools, but she poured a sweet-smelling liquid into a goblet and pushed it over to Percy. "She said it just got imported. She wanted to know if it was familiar to you," the witch-princess said. Percy brought it just under his nose, trying to decipher everything inside of it. He didn't trust people he didn't know handing him drinks but the only thing he recognized was that this drink was mostly alcohol and fruit. "I don't, so I'll pass."

Abyss made her way to the cup of alcohol, sniffing around it. It didn't interest her so at least it wasn't poison, at least nothing strong enough to kill him.

Percy didn't want to sit around, especially with the whole town looking for him. But he couldn't leave because that's just presenting that he has a dragon and begging people to shoot her down. "Did she say how long this meeting was going to take?" He asked. "Until he's found."

"Damn it," Percy murmured, rising from his chair and walking towards the back room, the one not visible from the bar and moving dozens of bottles and flasks to the side to find the emergency clothes hidden under them. This is why he didn't socialize.

Under the clothes were small and easy to conceal weapons like a few pocketknives and daggers. He carried light when it came to weapons, but since one of the two weapons he had was useless against 'insignificant' people--Chiron's words, not Percy's-- he grabbed a few knowing he'd probably need them. He heard the old wooden floors creaking and turned towards the doorway. The Witch-Princess watched him curiously, having poured herself a drink and standing at the door. "Were you the one that got away?" she asked mockingly. "Unfortunately, " Percy mumbled, turning back to the clothes and weapons. He tossed a cloak at her. "Put that on," he said when it landed on her head, causing her to drop the drink. He threw a cloak around his shoulders, its rough fabric scraping Percy's fingertips.

"Why is it so coarse?" Percy heard her question, discomfort in her voice. "The lower class citizens wear these. Since the only way you can be lower class is to be objectively ugly, it covers their face. The material clings to your skin so the hood can't be blown or even yanked off without resistance. It saves the attractive ones from getting 'traumatized," Percy disinterestedly explained, pulling the hood over his head. It was word for word how the old woman had explained the hoods to him. "That sounds painful," The witch-princess mumbled.

"It is."

He lifted a dagger for her to see. "Do you know how to use one of these?"

"Yes, my fathe—"

Percy didn't need to know why she knew how to use it and interrupted her sentence when he tossed the knife blade first at the unsuspecting witch-princess. She caught it by the handle, her reflexes being surprisingly quick.

Not bad.

"Are you crazy?"
"Very. Let's go," Percy told her, walking past her to the door. The witch-princess followed behind him, Abyss flying from her spot on the bar and wrapping herself around Percy's neck under the hood. Percy purposely walked several feet in front of the witch-princess, scoping out how many guards were near them and how they reacted to other hooded civilians. The guards shoved them around, cursed at them, spat at them, but there were none that the guards forcefully unhooded. Good. That's good.