Fates Intertwined

33. | A Bath

Rain poured, spring making its appearance. Aurora made her way through the near empty market with her hood over her head. When the rain picked up, she stuffed herself into one of the alcoves in front of the many doors that lined the street.

She needed to get to the woods before someone saw her. It didn't matter if it were rain or shine, the Butcher boys would come for her again.

At the thought, her gaze drew to the clock she had stolen from one of them. They were too busy beating her already bruised body to notice her snatch it.

Perhaps she could sell it before they realized she was the thief.

A hand wrapped around her waist with another pressed against her mouth from behind and then she was being pulled inside the building of the alcove she stood in.

She grunted as she stumbled to catch her footing, the sound of the door clicking shut throwing her guard up. She struggled with her own hood, trying to peel it off her soaked head to see who the attacker was and if the Butcher boys had found her and were going to have another round.

She snatched her hood off her head and whipped her dagger out, pointing it.

"Relax, would you?" She immediately recognized his voice, and she scowled. "Way to look happy to see me."

"Why is it that you seem to just pop up out of nowhere?" She glared.

"Why is it that you happen to always be in the same side of town I currently live in?" He countered.

"Because I live here."

"Hey, I know you." This time, a different voice spoke. And it was then that she realized they weren't alone.

One of the beds, a man — who she had met only one other time — sat drunk, drinking more liquor than he had already consumed. She was sure if he drank more he'd turn into the liquid himself. The Witch sat on the bed beside the drunken one, and the Syren sat at the table with a piece of tan fabric between her fingers, frozen. The Scylla was standing in the kitchen, a brow raised at her.

They were all staring at her.

"Aurora, was it?" The Syren asked, smiling kindly at her. She nodded slowly and her smile grew. "Eek! I knew you'd pop back up again!" She squealed, clapping her hands.

"Relax, would you,...? You're gonna scare the poor girl off again." The Witch admonished from the bed, a book in hand.

"This one's a flight risk, so it's not so much a matter of scaring her off." The Scylla answered, leaning back against the counter of his kitchen, arms crossed. "Are you going to put the dull knife away and talk or just stand there looking lost and confused the entire time?"

Aurora was shaking her head. "You all shouldn't care about me."

This time, the Witch put her book down. "Because...?"

"Because I'm dangerous. People around me die." She stated.

"I'm sure that's not true." The Syren shook her head as she sewed the pieces of cloth together. She was working on a shirt, she realized.

"We can protect ourselves." The Witch announced from the bed with a smile. Then she was pushing herself up and moving toward Aurora. "Someone is in desperate need of a bath."

Aurora frowned, glancing down at her body.

"..., go upstairs and find some clothes for Aurora to wear." She instructed, turning to the Syren sitting at the table. "Come." She instructed Aurora, grabbing her knife and tossing it to the Scylla before she was dragging Aurora up the stairs after the Syren.