EverRealm

DonkeySkin Girl

The Gilded Griffin Tavern is a bustling establishment filled with laughter, music, and the rich aroma of roasted meats and spiced ale. Wooden beams crisscross the ceiling, and flickering candles cast warm light over the patrons as they chattered animatedly over mugs of ale. A minstrel in the corner strums a lively tune on his lute, barely audible over the din of conversations. As Cedric, Elora, and Sofia enter, the noise of the tavern envelops them, a stark contrast to the quiet of the forest they just left. A large hearth crackles in the corner, casting a cozy glow over the room, the dancing flames reflecting in the polished wooden tables worn smooth from years of use.

Elora, Cedric, and Sofia make their way to a corner table, weary from their travels. Their boots leave faint muddy tracks on the sawdust-covered floor as they navigate between tables of laughing patrons and busy servers balancing trays of food and drink.

As they settle in, the trio shares a moment of relief, grateful for the respite. Sofia sinks into her chair with a sigh, rubbing her tired feet under the table. Cedric signals to a passing server, ordering a platter of roasted chicken, fresh bread, and three mugs of warm cider. When the food arrives, steam rising invitingly from the platter, they happily ate till they were content, the warmth of the meal chasing away the chill of their journey.

Sofia wipes her mouth with a napkin and glances around at the crowded tables. "We should be careful not to attract too much attention," she says in a hushed tone. "We still have to keep a low profile."

Elora nods, her eyes scanning the diverse crowd of merchants, travelers, and locals. "Right. Just a quick drink, and then we'll be on our way," she agrees, taking a small sip from her mug.

As Elora's gaze drifts across the tavern, she feels an odd sensation of familiarity tugging at her. The layout of the room, the particular carvings on the support beams, even the peculiar shape of the hearth—all seem to stir something in the recesses of her memory. Her fingers trace absent patterns on the wooden table, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Cedric, always perceptive to her shifts in mood, notices her contemplative expression. "You alright, Elora?" he asks, leaning in so she can hear him over the tavern's noise.

"I don't know..." Elora replies absently, her voice distant as she continues to survey the room. "This place feels like I've been here before." She tilts her head, trying to capture the elusive memories that flutter at the edges of her consciousness like autumn leaves in a breeze.

Just then, the tavern door swings open with a creak, letting in a brief gust of cool evening air that makes the candle flames dance. A woman strides in, her unusual garments made of donkey skin shimmering with subtle magic as she enters. The peculiar cloak catches the light in ways ordinary fabric wouldn't, hinting at an enchantment woven into its very fibers. Her eyes, bright and alert, quickly scan the room with purpose, and when they land on Elora, her face transforms with recognition and joy.

"Alysia!" the woman called out with excitement, her voice cutting through the tavern noise.

Before Elora can process the unfamiliar name, the woman rushes over, weaving between tables with remarkable agility, and envelops her in a crushing hug that smells of wildflowers and distant forests. Elora's mind races as she feels a flicker of recognition but can't quite grasp it, like trying to hold onto water.

"Who... who are you?" Elora asks, stunned, her voice muffled in the embrace. She awkwardly pats the stranger's back, looking to Sofia and Cedric with wide, confused eyes.

The woman steps back, her eyes sparkling with joy and unshed tears. "It's me, Miri! You saved me from my father's castle!" Her hands remain on Elora's shoulders, as if afraid she might disappear if she lets go completely.