sanctuary | on hold indefinitely

nineteen | safety by strength

"For God's sake, Filix," Farah huffed, coming to a stop outside the cathedral, where the bells chimed to signal midday. "You've had us on this wild goose chase all morning. There's nothing here. Why are we still looking?"

Filix stopped when he realised that Farah was no longer beside him and turned back on his heel. His expression was terse, his features pressed into harsh, thin lines and his cheekbones sharp as glass against the midday sun.

Around them, the world continued to turn, people weaving in and out of one another clutching shopping bags, bells ringing overhead as customers stepped in and out of shops, cars beeping impatiently as they tried to drive across the cobbles through the congestion of ignorant pedestrians—and yet they had not seen one witch in the chaos of the crowds. Without the noise and vehicles, the city would have made Farah feel as though she had travelled into the past, with the black and white timber-framed buildings and the sandstone arch of Eastgate clock around the corner. She could not imagine Devan having stayed here for long: the place was too alive, too pretty, too crowded.

"I did not come to this awful place for nothing," Filix responded through gritted teeth, "and neither would your sister. She was here for a reason. I won't leave until I find it."

Behind him, golden leaves fell over the iron fence from the churchyard, making him, with his black hair and clothes, look even more monochromatic than usual. The sound of a violin playing a lamenting melody drifted in from the square, battling with the sound of chatter and confusing Farah's ears. It had been months since she had been in such an open, crowded space, and the sudden return to something other than warehouses and woods, bonfires and blood, was not something she had anticipated.

Disconnectedly, her eyes skimmed over her surroundings again, past the mothers pushing prams with screaming babies and the Halloween decorations in the window displays, until they stopped on a strikingly green eye. The other was covered by a black eye-patch. It belonged to a tall, messy-haired boy who could not have been much older than her. He walked hunched over his shopping bags, but a moment of eye contact as he passed Farah was all that she needed to see.

"Filix," she said without taking her focus from the retreating figure as he continued down the cobbles. "Protector. There," she pointed, already moving to follow him.

He did not turn the corner as she had expected, instead continuing down a side alley between two buildings, one a bookshop and the other a boutique. The sign for the bookstore, with REID'S BOOKS engraved in bold against a green background, housed a Latin phrase familiar to Farah: tutum te robore reddam. I will give you safety by strength. The Protectors' motto.

"See?" Filix grinned, eyeing the Protector as he came to a stop at the side door. "Patience, love."

In a moment they were running, pushing through the crowd until they reached the alleyway. Graffiti covered the walls and the smell of something damp and rotten hung in the air. The Protector was rifling through his pockets, his bags placed on the floor as he searched for something. He hadn't noticed Farah and Filix as they prowled further into the shadows until they were almost close enough to touch. Farah stepped forward, ready to pounce, but Filix held his arm out in front of her. A moment later, Farah saw why. He was searching for his keys and he had found them. The metal jingled as he pulled them out of his coat pockets and slid them into the lock, turning them a moment later until it clicked. 

"Lunch break?" Filix questioned, finally drawing his attention as he nodded down to the bags. "I suppose all those protection spells must work up an appetite."

The Protector started, his mouth agape as his one-eyed gaze flickered between Farah and Filix nervously. His hand remained frozen on the door. "Can I help you?"