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A Happy Insanity

Stumbling forward, I saw the crowd beginning to part around the edges. Slate was true to her words and was making an escape route. Butterfly wings brushed the inside of my stomach and the unusual taste of lilac filled my mouth. 

The colour lilac had a very distinct taste for for something that you can't actually taste. My brain loved assigning names to these illusive tastes that graced my tongue. Lilac, umber, grey; each had a place in my memories from the time I fell out a tree or when I first went to school. Lilac tasted of hope. Umber tasted of unease. Grey tasted of boredom. 

The door to bar was inviting. My path was carved out towards it and the familiar glow spilling out from the jovial mood inside brought the orange taste of excitement. It would act as a safe haven until the pompous idiots had made their leave which wouldn't be long. Whatever Owen had done would be his to fix, not mine. The interview had proved to me that the naive prince was able to sort out his own issues. 

Lifting my hand, I started my spell. 

"Edite, grant me this. Occulta animam." A curtain was pulled across my soul.  For as long as my magic could hold I had a barrier around my soul preventing even the likes of Owen from seeing it. The boy was a thorn, not that I was any better. Our skill set seemed to cross into each other which annoyed the hell out of me; I didn't want to deal with my faults and Owen would make me have to confront them. 

Orange hands welcomed me into their grasp, entrancing me and soothing my heart. Bars, and all their ruckus, calmed the destructive desires hiding in personality. Alcohol wafted around the room, competing with the drunken slurs being tossed around like hot potatoes. Each smell and sound was wonderful. Rough wood made up the circular tables although most of the space was occupied by empty beer glasses. I slid my hand across the bare walls enjoying the feel of the uncensored imperfections that made this place feel homely. Every dent had a story as did every person standing, or sitting, in the room. 

"What happ'nd to Grim?" Slate's eyes fluttered as she tried to schmooze information out of me as if she thought I actually knew the answers. How quaint. 

"Dunno, and I don't really care." A roll of her eyes as she sauntered further into the room. 

"Yar no fun, Avi, c'mon and dance!" The music was barely audible above the noise of the bar but Slate wasn't known to need music to dance. Her own head covered that issue for her. Hips swaying, head nodding, and an infectious giggle as she waltzed to a table. "Join me." 

Burly men set their drinks down and wiped the froth from their beards. Slate was very popular in this town because of her innate ability to get people on her side whether it be dancing or hiding from the enforcers. I truly admired her for that. 

She was insane in the best way possible.