II - Sigh of Smoke

Chapter 9 - Secret Affairs

-Menaleen-

There were whispers in the streets. She heard them on her walks and on her strolls, but they lingered behind her like tasteful treats from the East. For once however, they weren't about her. With a glance over her shoulder she tossed a soft smile, and a man that was eyeing her from the corner shop at the end of the steep road smirked knowingly.

Menaleen's translucent orange skirt billowed around her legs as she strolled downwards, throwing her dark hair over her shoulder as she played through the strands with her fingers. Purposely, she arched her back. Her cinnamon skin glowed with sheens of sweat from the loving sun, and an even more loving client followed after her more closely.

Yet, she held her tongue and bit her cheek. This was all she could do.

Passing by an alley she overheard a slight arguement between two women dressed in leather vests over their forms, daggers sheathed into the belts on their hips. They gestured violently to each other, words laced in Zarkarian curses, a rough accent hissed in the shade of the neighbouring buildings.

"I say we seek the bastards out."

"Are you dull in the head? We've received no orders to do so."

"Ha! But if you were a true follower of Lord Cragon, would you question it? These four are out for his life, and if you decide not to fight for him, what does that make you?"

"Then does that make you a bounty chaser?"

The women glanced over mid-speech and saw Menaleen, silencing as they watched her pass with daring eyes. Quickly, the girl looked away, twirling her dark hair between her fingers. Once she was gone they began whispering again, more heated and irritated tones filling the shadow of the alleyway.

It seemed the four destined ones had escaped Wyvengard alive. This news had caused the locals havoc, causing some passionate followers of Cragon to place bounties on their heads, regardless of the fact one of the four was a Zarkarian themselves. However, due to another rumor, this traitor Zarkarian had killed both her kind and Wyvengardian soldiers during the most recent raid.

Because of the official return of the rumoured Dragons, many Zarkarians revoked their loyalty to their god, Xarian. How could their god, the one they worshipped and paid tribute to, wish death upon their own King? No one had yet to understand why, but many would not stand by and watch their kingdom of Zarkarath fall.

This was their home, their pride and worth. Battle plans were already being made in case the dragons surfaced, but Menaleen didn't know how they could possibly fight off centuries-old beasts. What could humans possibly do?

She stared at the streets of the very kingdom itself, mind wandering. Sandy-coloured houses stood with glassless windows, muddy curtains pulled away to reveal the hand-woven tapestries laying on thin cots. Weapons hung on walls, carved wooden symbols and scrolls filled with Zarkarian values were hung side by side. Children slept within, soundless and peaceful. Their parents argued in corners about the coming four who threatened their King's life.

The steep road was made of dusty stones with defiant plants growing between the cracks. The road branched off at the bottom of the hill, splitting into several different directions. One way led to the frantic bazaar, another to the Tainted Road, while a third led to more residences filled with more similarly furnished rooms. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted the man still trailing after her, acting as if he was merely taking a walk.

Menaleen knew what he wanted.

She could tell he was already fiddling in his pockets for enough coin to pay her for her services. Taking a shaky breath, she turned and took a more downward path. The buildings slowly became more tilted, becoming more like shacks that had prayers laid out as their foundations. A man sat sharpening his curved sword outside his home, and as she passed he watched her with one eye cracked open. She flinched as he leant over and spat at her feet. His spittle streaked next to her toes.