Michrinor: The Fates of The Heirs

Chapter 23 - Memories of Trancedi

A quiet band of travelers moved cautiously through the bustling streets of Dabar. The city hummed with activity, tradesmen hauling goods from the port to the heart of the city, where shopkeepers shouted their wares to the throngs of people. The crowd was a tapestry of Michrinor's many regions, with clothing ranging from the fine silks of nobles to the rough tunics of laborers. A child darted through the crowd, a blur of motion as a merchant bellowed after him, shaking a fist in futile anger. The group's pace was slowed by the Huattons they led, but at last, they reached the inn near the port. A stable stood adjacent, where an attendant took their beasts to be fed and watered. The travelers stepped inside the inn, keeping their presence unobtrusive.

"Greetings, travelers! Welcome to the Sera Port Inn. How may I serve you today?" a small, round man called out as he clambered onto a box behind the counter, bringing his face level with the group. The counter was lined with fruits, breads, and an assortment of goods—ropes, pouches, herbs, spices, oils, and ointments—filling the air with a heady blend of fragrances.

"We need four beds, kind sir," said Yaroth, his crystal-blue eyes sweeping over the shelves behind the counter.

"Certainly, certainly," the innkeeper replied with a broad smile. He turned to the wall behind him, plucking two keys from a row of wooden pegs before returning to the counter. "Each room has two beds unless you require more privacy. The washroom is on the roof terrace, and we ask that all guests keep the peace while within our walls."

"Two rooms will suffice, and we shall see to it that no trouble finds your inn," Yaroth replied, taking the keys. He handed one to Donamer, who nodded in acknowledgment.

"We've many supplies if you need anything more!" the innkeeper added eagerly, gesturing to the array of goods.

Donamer shook his head, his focus on the task at hand. "Here you go, Yaroth. I'll check on our provisions and meet you all back here shortly." He passed both keys to Yaroth and made for the door.

"Be swift, Yaroth. We must be ready for our friends when they arrive," Taci reminded him, taking one key.

"Do you think Harvan and the others have found Ava?" Donamer asked quietly as the innkeeper busied himself arranging the shelves.

"My heart tells me she's unharmed," Taci replied, her voice firm yet thoughtful. "But when and where we'll find her remains uncertain. We must hold fast to hope and prepare for whatever lies ahead." Her words, always measured, offered Donamer a sense of reassurance. He and Yaroth exchanged a knowing glance, both nodding in silent agreement.

Taci entered her room and dropped her bag onto a chair in the corner. As she did, the banner Queen Austiniel had gifted her slipped from her pack, fluttering to the floor. Taci's gaze followed its descent, and she found herself staring at the flag—a relic from a past she had long tried to forget.

"Ready for our meal?" Jarvonus asked as he entered, tossing his belongings onto another chair. Shaken from her reverie, Taci nodded and followed him to join the others.

The tavern attached to the inn was a stark contrast to the warmth they'd encountered earlier. A large, stern woman approached their table, her disdain for Naitseers clear in her eyes. "What d'ya want, Naitseers?" she barked, her tone as rough as her demeanor.

Ever the diplomat, Yaroth rose from his seat and approached her with a disarming smile. "Greetings, fair lady," he began smoothly. "We are grateful for the hospitality of your fine tavern. Your success speaks to your wisdom and strength. Might we trouble you for a small meal before we retire for the night?" He offered a slight bow, catching the faintest hint of a grin on her lips.