A Touch Of Darkness

20 || Keep Running

With every step I take, the darkness is more oppressive. This night is not one of comforting blackness and twinkling stars. It is all sharp angles and unseen walls, unattended lanterns glaring from around corners, each aimless street the same as the last until another surprise springs from the shadowed brickwork to trip my stride.

A discarded wooden sword. An uneven break in the path, leaving one piece of the cobbled puzzle absent. One half of a metal breastplate leaning up against a moss-covered wall, eaten up by rust.

Shivering, I feel for my hood, pulling it low over my ears as I dart around the next corner. It didn't take this long when Rovena led me to her house. There must be a way out somewhere, just another collection of paces away.

In the distance, a wisp of smoke coils from the rooftops, vanishing into the blackened sheet of cloud. Moisture tingles in the air. Rain is on the way. This time, I doubt the sky will be as kind as to gift me snow.

At the next turn, the stretching square greets me, and I nearly keel over in my relief.

One more path from here. That's all it took. I can hurry along it, vanish back into the mountains, snatch another bit of rest if my mind will allow it. The renewed loneliness might settle my thoughts. Even if not, when the sun rises, I can slip back into the village. There will be more people around then, emerging to bask under the light, I hope. It will be easier to slip by unnoticed. I can approach a fresh stranger with practiced lies, extract my answers quickly, and then disappear before anyone can become too curious. No accepting kindness this time. Certainly no following them across town. If I want to do this, I do it alone.

My heart clenches. Shaking my head, I venture out into the centre of the square. Alone is the safest way, as much as it gnaws at my insides. After all, it's how it always was before.

I spin, examining all sides of the square, and my plan's certainty evaporates. My fingers curl into a fist. How can I handle myself alone when I can't even remember the way out?

"Just pick one, Noli," I murmur to myself, the name rising to my lips subconsciously. "You can do this. Pick one."

My left feels the correct sort of direction to head. I linger for a moment, then march along one of the wider paths, my pace quickening as the houses close in on either side again. Those windows I can make out are dark, yet they still seem to watch me with narrowed suspicion.

The path bends sharply ahead. I pause just before the corner, shrinking away from the light that pools around it. A few concentrated breaths. There have been lamps like this before, illuminating the drifts of mist.

Steeling myself, I step out of the shadows and round the bend, only to stagger to an immediate stop.

An armoured woman carries this lamp. It hangs at her waist, glinting its bright reflection in a trio of slim daggers lined up across her belt's front. Black outlines her torso and accents the edges of her helmet, flanking the painted shape of a silver ship riding a turquoise wave. A ship with black sails, glittering in the firelight as she dips her head, eyes locking onto me.

Ice caresses my spine. Neyaibet. They've come for me.

She was leaning against the wall as I arrived, but now she pushes off it, a short plait of blonde hair falling from her shoulder. Fayre, my mind whispers, somehow breaking through the buzz overtaking the rest of my thoughts. Her bow is absent, although it could easily be concealed under her dusty cloak.

It takes all my willpower not to take a nervous step backward as she moves to the centre of the path, blocking it off to me. I can't make out her eyes under the shadow of her helmet. I find myself staring at the ship symbol just above instead.