The Veil of Danu

City Guard (13)

The morning passed in a haze of quiet restlessness. Though the bed had been a comfort after the long journey, the weight of what had happened to Winlow sat heavily in my chest, gnawing at me. It had been days since the attack, and I still hadn't shared the full extent of the destruction with anyone. The people needed to know, especially those in power. If Lord Dayjin's knights were to help, they needed to hear the truth.

I could feel the eyes of the city on me as I stepped out of the Hollow Oak Inn, its familiar creaks and warmth left behind in favor of the colder, bustling streets of Avila. I was still wearing the same night guard attire, though I had at least managed to wash up in the inn's modest washroom. My boots, however, were still coated in the muck of my travels, and my cloak was in no better shape, heavy with the smell of wet leather and dirt. I couldn't shake the feeling that I looked every bit the wanderer, out of place in a city so well-kept.

I made my way through the market square, weaving through the morning crowds, my eyes darting to the side as I passed vendors shouting their wares and children playing in the streets. My mind, however, was elsewhere. I needed to speak to the city guard, to warn them about Winlow. I'd already been directed to the city gates where the knights were stationed, but I couldn't help but feel an unease as I neared them. I hadn't truly realized how much I stood out—how much danger I could be in—until I'd seen the city guards up close.

There, at the gates, stood two knights dressed in polished black armor, their cloaks billowing behind them. They watched the crowd with practiced vigilance, eyes scanning for trouble. As I approached, one of them—his face stern beneath his helmet—caught sight of me and stiffened slightly. His gaze swept over my disheveled appearance, and his posture became more rigid. I wasn't exactly the picture of nobility.

Still, I knew I had to do this.

I approached with purpose, my hand instinctively reaching for the small bag at my side where I had tucked the torn banner. The silver wolf emblem on the fabric had been enough to convince the guard at the Hollow Oak Inn that my story wasn't just the ramblings of a frightened survivor. The torn banner held weight, and I knew it would help in convincing the knights here, too.

"Excuse me," I said, raising my voice enough to be heard over the noise of the marketplace. "I need to speak with someone about Winlow. The village—it's been destroyed."

The knights exchanged a glance. One of them, a tall man with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied me.

"Destroyed?" His voice was clipped, the skepticism clear in his tone. "And you are...?"

"Rowan," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "I was a night guard there. My dog Nox and I were among the few who survived the attack." I could feel my heart beating harder, my pulse quickening as the weight of what I was about to say hit me all over again. "There were soldiers, armored in black, and they tore through the village. They left no survivors. It wasn't just an attack; it was slaughter."

The knight tilted his head slightly, as though weighing my words. "And you survived this... slaughter?"

I nodded, my jaw tightening. "I did. I barely managed to escape. But the people need to know. Someone needs to be warned."

His eyes flicked to the torn banner I was holding in my hands, the fabric swaying slightly in the breeze. He motioned for me to show it to him. Hesitant, I unfurled it, revealing the silver wolf wrapped in black thorns and red roses—an emblem I hadn't seen before, but one I knew was connected to whatever had destroyed Winlow.

The knight's expression shifted. There was something in his gaze now—recognition, perhaps? His brow furrowed as he took a long breath, his hand lifting to signal for his companion. The other knight stepped forward, his face just as hard, but now with a hint of concern in his eyes.