World Of Worlds (Arula: One)

Chapter 4

Arkum came into view as the sun sank toward the horizon. The village rested where the valley flattened, its entrance marked by a worn stone road that led into the bustling town center. Shops and homes lined the streets, and as Karma and Omar rode in, they observed villagers hurrying through the markets, gathering food and other necessities before nightfall.
As they ventured deeper into the village, the two travelers dismounted, guiding their horses toward a nearby stable. After Karma paid the stable master, they made their way toward the marketplace.
The air was thick with the mingling scents of fresh bread, roasting meat, and the salty tang of fish. Vendors called out their wares, their voices competing over the lively crowd.
"FRESH FISH! GET YOUR FRESH FISH HERE!"
Karma winced at the sudden shout, rubbing her ear. It had been years since she last heard the clamor of a busy market. Taking a deep breath, she pressed forward.
Omar walked beside her, his hood pulled low over his face. He had to remain cautious. Ever since Termis shattered the treaty, no Clan member was safe, whether inside or outside their territories. Rage simmered within him at the thought. The memory of that day flashed through his mind, making him flinch. Don't worry, he reminded himself. I'll get you back.
That was the promise he had repeated to himself for the past four months. By the time the sun had fully disappeared beyond the valley, the marketplace had begun winding down. Shops closed one by one, and the street lanterns flickered to life, casting a warm glow over the cobbled streets. Karma tugged on Omar's sleeve.
"I think we should head to the inn now," she suggested. Omar nodded.
The Famous Arkum Inn stood at the far end of the village. After several minutes of walking, they reached the tall stone structure, its weathered wooden doors looming before them.
Pushing inside, they were greeted by the lively hum of conversation. The inn was spacious, with a large bar at the back where men nursed their drinks in silence. Scattered across the room, tables and booths were occupied by travelers, some engaged in quiet discussions, others in rowdy card games or rounds of darts. Laughter and drunken cheers filled the air, accompanied by flirtatious banter between barmaids and patrons.
However, a few watchful eyes settled on Karma and Omar as they crossed the room. "I'll get us rooms," Karma whispered. "Find a place to sit and wait for me."
Omar nodded and made his way to a table in the far corner while Karma approached the bar. The bartender, a burly man with a tattered tan shirt and a stained white apron, was busy cleaning a mug when he noticed her.
"And what can I do for you, pretty little lady?" he asked, his deep voice gruff, his breath thick with ale.
Trying not to make a face, Karma responded, "Two rooms, please." She reached for her pouch, readying a few coins.
The bartender's gaze flicked toward Omar. "Your traveling buddy over there, huh?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Just tell me how much," Karma said impatiently.
"Feisty, aren't you?" The man chuckled. "That'll be six silver coins, missy."
Karma placed the coins on the counter. The bartender swiped them up and handed her two keys. Without another word, she turned and walked toward Omar. She found him sitting at the far table, his hood pulled further down, shadows obscuring most of his face.
"Not to be rude," she said, placing one of the keys in front of him, "but hiding in the corner with your hood drawn definitely doesn't look suspicious at all."
Omar's hazel eyes glowed faintly beneath the hood, and Karma could tell he was smiling. He picked up the key, glancing at the number etched into the wooden tag. "Room 205."
Karma checked hers. "Room 304. Looks like I'm one floor above you." Omar nodded. Together, they climbed the stairs in comfortable silence.
Reaching his floor first, they paused outside his door. "We'll leave tomorrow evening," Omar said. "Gather what we need during the day, then head out before sunset. The sooner we reach Abaddon, the better."
Karma agreed. "Meet me in the lobby at the same table as before," she instructed.
"Understood," Omar said.
From his hood, Shari poked his tiny head out, watching Karma as she turned to leave. Omar rubbed the ferret's head before disappearing into his room.
It took Karma a moment to find her room in the dimly lit hallway. The carved numbers on the wooden doors were difficult to read. Eventually, she found 304 and unlocked it.
The room was small and smelled faintly of dust and wood. A single bed sat in the center, covered in faded sheets. A small, round table with a chair occupied the corner, and across from the bed was an empty fireplace, a saber-tooth wolf rug stretched between them.
Sighing, Karma dropped her satchel onto the bed and flopped down beside it. The mattress wasn't as soft as she had hoped, but after a long day of travel, it would do.
She reached over, lighting a candle on the bedside table. Digging into her satchel, she retrieved her book. Pulling the key from around her neck, she unlocked it.
As she opened the cover, a strange sensation crawled over her skin—a creeping feeling, like being watched. Frowning, she looked toward the window. Moonlight barely trickled through the dirty glass.
Slowly, she rose to her feet and crossed the room. Peering outside, she saw nothing but the quiet streets below. The crescent moon shone brightly, casting long shadows over the rooftops. The night was peaceful. Yet, that uneasy feeling remained.
With a quiet exhale, she shut the curtains and turned back toward her bed. Sliding her book beneath her pillow, she blew out the candle and lay down. As she closed her eyes, she could still feel its presence beneath her, a silent reminder of the burden she carried. Sleep came slowly, and when it did, it was restless.