Way of Tyrants and Snakes

VI | Allsgorath

     After an hour of brisk riding, they finally arrived at Allsgorath City. It emerged abruptly from the towering trees, a large floating island nestled amid a deafening, tumultuous river that seemed to be covered by a perpetual fog. As they drew closer, Lyrael realized the veracity of her acquaintances' warnings about the treacherous currents and untamed rapids of the Allsgorath.
     Despite the darkness, the dim glow from the torches lining the walls revealed glimpses of the perilous rapids below, adding an eerie ambiance. She couldn't help but marvel at the resilience of the city, withstanding the relentless force of the river that threatened to erode its very foundations. She assumed that whatever kept the island anchored to the riverbed was also keeping the island from simply eroding away.
     "Oh, by the way," Tsarra called for Lyrael as her horse approached the swaying stone bridge, which also seemed to ripple with magic. "The sewers of Allsgorath dump directly into the river, and the old filtering system doesn't work well, if at all. So, I would heavily advise against touching or drinking the water in town."
     "Yeah, well, that's Allsgorath City for you." Wynn laughed dryly. "It's not a very bright or welcoming city. The only colors around are the caravans that come through here every week or so to sell their goods."
     They crossed the stone bridge in just a few minutes of slow walking and passed through a stone gate manned by a pair of guards. They nodded at them as they passed, and Lyrael's brows furrowed as she took in the dark, wet city. However, calling it a city was a bit of an exaggeration. She could just barely make out a small castle through the fog on the northern side of the island and only twenty to thirty stone houses and shops, as well as a singular two-story inn. On the outskirts of the city closest to the walls were rows of wooden shacks, where Lyrael assumed the poor lived.
     "There is a small ranch on the west side of the river where the city gets their meat and dairy from." Tsarra motioned to a small stone building with a sign that read 'Butcher'. "Their vegetables are all brought in from a small farming village to the northwest."
     "I see," Lyrael murmured as their horses' hooves clattered on the cobblestone road. They dropped from their horses in front of the very dreary, quiet inn. The city was quiet, ominously so, and she looked around, an odd, nagging feeling pulling at the back of her mind.
Something about this place... feels off.
     She pushed the thought away with a shake of her head. She quickly moved toward Soni and Wynn's horse, helping Soni get him down from the horse. His wound was bleeding again, but it was minimal.
     The faster we get inside and sleep, the faster we wake and continue following Papa... I mean, Anwel's trail. She thought, grimacing as she called him by his first name, something she's never done before. I don't have time to think about anything else.
     A set of twin boys came running from around the side of the inn and took their horses, accepting a few copper coins from Tsarra, both of them thanking her in unison. "Thank you, miss."
     The group entered the inn and the sight of a completely empty tavern welcomed them. To the right of the door was a desk, with an older Elven woman with gray-pink hair and white eyes. Lyrael quickly surmised that she was blind, as she only looked up in their general direction, but not at them.
     "Your cheapest room for four, please." Wynn called, and the woman was silent as she opened a drawer, feeling around inside and withdrew a single key on a string. She stood and took them through a hallway, and down a set of damp stairs. She unlocked a door and revealed a dimly lit room with four uncomfortable looking cots, a door that Lyrael assumed led to a bathroom, and a small window on the back wall.
     "Fifty coppers each, please."
     They each coughed up fifty coppers and handed them to the woman as they passed her. Lyrael shivered as she entered the room last, jumping slightly when the old woman slams the door behind her and locks it. Lyrael's eyes widen and she snaps her head toward Tsarra and the others.
     "Did she just... lock us in here?" Soni whispered, perplexed.
     "Seems so," Tsarra said, and then the three of them broke into laughter, Soni wiping tears from her cheeks. "God, I hate Allsgorath. This place is so creepy."
     "Where did you guys come from, if not from west of the river?" Lyrael asked when they stopped laughing. She chose a cot in the furthest corner and removed her bow from her shoulder, dropping her bag onto the floor beside the cot.
     Soni glanced toward Tsarra as she flopped down on one of the cots. "We came from Blackfall, a large city that's northeast. We're all from around that region."
     "I come from a small village outside of Blackfall, but I spent a lot of my time as a child in the city, as my father sold our crops at a few of the markets in the city."
     "I come from a small village outside of Blackfall, but I spent a lot of my time as a child in the city, as my father sold our crops at a few of the markets in the city." Tsarra smiled and Lyrael nodded, watching as Wynn pushed his cot closer to Soni's.
     "Man, I wish I could bathe. It's been days since I've had a good wash." Soni moaned and laid on her cot, staring up at the ceiling.
     Her statement confused Lyrael, as Soni was a High Elf with water magic. But after a few moments of thought, she answered her own question. Based on what she saw, unlike Lyrael, Soni could not create water, only control water that already existed. Soni couldn't fill a tub with water like Lyrael could. She wanted to say something, to suggest she could fill the tub for her and even heat it with her fire magic, but she knew that was a bad idea.
     She didn't want to reveal all her powers just yet. Doubts lingered in her mind as she questioned whether she could put her trust in them. Her gut told her they were good people, but she was still hesitant, as Anwel taught her to be. She did not make her wind magic apparent to them as she used it on their trek here to conceal their trail, so as far as they knew, she only had illusion magic.
     And for now, that's all she wanted them to know.
     "Talahm to Elys. Are you listening?" Tsarra waved her hand toward Lyrael, who jumped slightly and looked around.
     "Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about something."
     "As I was saying, we should get some rest so we can head out before dawn." Tsarra murmured and Wynn and Soni nodded in agreement. Wynn unfolded the blanket at the end of his cot and slowly, with a grimace on his face, laid down.
     "Goodnight," Lyrael murmured, sliding onto her own cot, pulling the thin blanket over herself. Her mind spun with questions, questions she wished she could have answers to. She wrapped herself in a bubble of silence, tears pouring down her face as she forced her shoulders to stay still as she sobbed.
     Her heart was broken. The man who was supposed to be her father kept so much hidden from her. He knew what she was and knew she was glamoured. But he said nothing to her, never told her the truth. She tried not to let her anger consume her, but once she fell asleep, she dreamt of their humble cottage going up in flames, her own screams of anger echoing in her ears.