Black Strings: Threads of Revenge

Mini Chapter 2

Tommy sits alone in room 208, reading a book on the bed under the warm flicker of candlelight. His backpack rests at the foot of the bed, slouched on the floor. Moonlight spills into the room, casting soft shadows across the walls. Inside, it’s silent—peaceful. But outside, the world hums with distant life, a muffled and constant buzz just beyond the windows.

“I’m waiting,” Benjamin’s voice whispers.

Tommy snaps upright, heart skipping. He looks around quickly, but no one’s there. The room remains empty, undisturbed. Slowly, he slides a bookmark between the pages and sets the book down beside him.

He swings his legs off the bed, bare feet touching the cold floor. Quietly, he crosses the room, each step deliberate. One hand braces against the windowsill for balance as he eases the window open with the other.

A rush of winter air greets him, sharp and cold. It whips past his face and makes him shiver, but a crooked smile tugs at his lips. He climbs up without hesitation. Then, with a small breath, he releases the sill and drops down, landing lightly on his feet.

The stars are out at this time of night. Not a single cloud in the sky. Owls fly high, Tommy’s ears picking up their hoots.

The cobblestone streets click softly under his feet. Others walk nearby—footsteps echoing in different rhythms, people passing each other like drifting shadows. But Tommy doesn't speak. He doesn’t join them.

He just walks.
No plan. No destination. Just his legs moving forward, carrying him through unfamiliar streets. The city blurs into lights and stone and quiet conversations. He searches for the Starlight Tavern, but he doesn’t ask for directions.

It’s aimless wandering. Nothing stands out. No building feels important. The world feels distant, like a painting behind glass.

He grows tired of walking. The streets blur together, unfamiliar and endless. He doesn’t know where he is anymore.

With a soft sigh, he strides toward a nearby building and leans against the wall, letting its cool surface steady him.

“This city’s huge,” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Should’ve just teleported from the start. Would’ve saved me the trouble.”

His fingers find the sword-shaped charm hanging from his necklace. The moment he grips it, he closes his eyes.

The sounds of the street fade.

When Tommy opens his eyes, he’s standing in the Starlight Tavern.

The air is warm and carries the scent of cinnamon, roasted meat, and old wood. Light filters down from hundreds of softly glowing orbs suspended in the air like floating stars, casting gentle gold and silver hues over the tavern. The ceiling is high, arched like an old cathedral, but instead of stained glass, the beams shimmer faintly with starlight, as if the night sky itself has been stitched into the roof.

Conversations hum in the background—low, cozy, and full of life. Laughter bubbles up from one corner, the clink of mugs from another. Long wooden tables are scattered around, many with mismatched chairs that look like they each have their own story.
Near the back, there’s a rounded stage framed with dark velvet curtains, currently quiet but promising music and stories later in the night.

Benjamin stands behind the bar, a soft smile on his face as he dries a glass with a well-worn towel. His presence is steadying—like the tavern itself breathes easier when he’s around. The bar is polished and smooth, its surface scattered with tiny chips of starlight caught in the wood grain. Shelves behind him are packed with glowing bottles, enchanted teas, and rare drinks from across the realms.