✔𝚨 𝚸𝛐𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞 ➳ 𝚩𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝚩𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

Chapter 1

Pain was all that it was. It was the kind that was hard to describe. The one that made you lie awake at night, not to cry but simply to wonder if maybe you could've done something to stop this from happening, that maybe everything wasn't your fault – or that it was.

The thoughts coming to people during the hours of darkness are rarely kind to them. They do more harm than good, and they can convince even the most rational of people the misery they experienced was of their own doing.

Melora had tried to find herself a hotel. A sleazy one would be fine, something that would help her get by, and a bad place was better than none at all, but she had come up empty. People in the streets were looking at her strangely, as if able to tell that she did not fit in and she was different in some way.

Keeping her head low was hardly doing enough for her, and throughout the mere hours, she had spent here, it was clear that women who appeared her age did not walk around on their own. Especially not at this time of night.

Confidence in her abilities was, of course, not something she lacked, and more than anything, she needed a drink to clear her mind.

What He had said was more than simply hurtful. There was a new sort of pain. Perhaps the pain of having known better but still continued as if nothing at all was wrong. But what else could she have done when the words of her mother continued to echo throughout her mind. Patience. Always have patience.

Never did Melora think having patience could hurt her so much. Never asking the right questions and thinking He would get to it in his own time had done more harm than good. The patience in her blood had curdled with time, and it truly was nothing but apathy.

Truly, there was no purpose for her any longer. That was what she was meant to be and do and everything there was to her.

But now?

Everything was simply gone. All of it had been a lie. And now, here she was, stumbling through the streets of some town on Midgard with the only thing on her mind being to find a place where she would be able to get herself a drink.

It was not something she had to look far to find. The music and voices of people could clearly be heard, and in all honesty, the people of Midgard did not seem too bad. There was a large window into the establishment, most people seemed to be by the bar.

There were a few tables and different seats throughout, along with a small space where people were dancing along to the music which came from a small box in the corner. The room itself was somewhat coated in smoke, and she quickly realised it was from people puffing away on different kinds of... herbs or plants perhaps.

Nonetheless, she opened the wooden door and was hit immediately with the smell of the smoke along with the noise. The door was much better at killing the sound than she had expected. A few people glanced up from their various drinks and conversations, looking strangely at her.

Melora could hardly blame them, she was soaked because of the rain outside, but it wasn't exactly something she had cared to think about, and taking a further look down her body, she realised how different her clothes looked as well. Perhaps a good thing she had not been wearing her formal Asgardian clothes.

She slouched down on one of the small seat cushions by the bar, waiting for the Keep to get to her. The man had eyes on her immediately, probably because of the state of her exterior, and for the sake of being able to fit more with the shadows, she slowly put up a few illusions.

Nothing they would take note of, of course, from her memory Midgard was not a place of magic. Her clothes appeared drier, and so did her hair, while her clothes lost some of their uniqueness.