First Tavern
The night air carried a biting chill, causing Marek and Anastasia to shiver as they made their way through the dimly lit streets. Anastasia struggled to see in the darkness, relying on Marek's enhanced vision spell to guide them.
Despite the late hour, the streets weren't deserted. Figures huddled on the ground or stood in silence, preoccupied with their own concerns, thankfully paying little attention to the two small figures passing by.
Feeling Anastasia's shivers and seeing her cold breath, Marek swiftly removed his cloak and draped it over her shoulders, surprising her with the gesture.
"But..." Anastasia began, her words trailing off.
"I can handle the cold," Marek assured her, though in reality, his body enhancement spell afforded him some protection from the chill, though discomfort still lingered.
Anastasia wanted to protest or express gratitude, but her words faltered. She felt the gnaw of hunger and thirst, but Marek doubted the safety of any late-night food vendors in this dangerous place.
"Can you hold on a bit longer, Anastasia? Just until morning," Marek asked.
Anastasia nodded weakly, her gratitude mingled with guilt for burdening Marek.
"Let's find a place to rest for the night," Marek suggested, leading Anastasia to a dilapidated wooden house he remembered from Arthur's memories. Though far from safe, it offered shelter from the cold night air.
"Watch your step," Marek cautioned, holding tightly to Anastasia's hand. Despite her assurances, her frail state betrayed the toll this sudden upheaval had taken on her. Raised in luxury, Anastasia struggled to adapt to this harsh new reality.
The wooden house, though worn and decrepit, boasted a solid ground floor. Marek eyed the broken staircase leading to the upper level. Despite its precarious state, Marek was determined to rest upstairs exactly because of the broken stairs making the ascension a little difficult for any shady intruder.
"I'll lift you up, Anastasia," Marek offered, positioning himself beneath the damaged stairs.
Anastasia nodded weakly, mustering what strength she could.
"Hold onto my head," Marek instructed, wrapping his arms securely around Anastasia's thighs before hoisting her upward.
Anastasia clung to Marek's head as she reached for the stairs above. Seeing her struggle to reach the top, Marek infused his feet with mana, elevating himself slightly to assist her.
With a burst of effort, Marek propelled Anastasia towards the stairs. She grasped onto them tightly, pulling herself up. Once up, she extended a hand towards Marek, but he shook his head, indicating he had a different plan.
With a swift leap, Marek vaulted over the nearby wall, then launched himself upward, catching hold of the stairs and hauling himself onto the upper level alongside Anastasia.
Within the rundown house, Marek and Anastasia discovered two rooms, but only one appeared somewhat habitable—it had a floor that wasn't on the verge of collapse.
With no better options, Marek selected the relatively intact room and set about cleaning it with a makeshift tool fashioned from a tree branch. Anastasia joined in the effort, and within fifteen minutes, they transformed the space into a somewhat comfortable resting spot.
Exhausted from their efforts, Marek and Anastasia settled on the ground, leaning wearily against the wall.
"You should get some sleep, Anastasia," Marek suggested gently.
Anastasia glanced at him, then pointed a questioning finger in his direction.
Marek smiled at her cute gesture. "I'll keep watch tonight, just to be safe."
Anastasia nodded silently, curling up against the wall, with no intention to let him awake alone.
Marek sighed softly, reaching out to touch Anastasia's head. "First Rank Spell: Sleep."
The spell, though basic, worked effectively on the weary Anastasia, and soon her eyes drifted shut, her head finding a comfortable perch on Marek's shoulder.
[Milord, you should rest as well. I will alert Milord of any intrusion.]
"It's fine, Promell. I need to think."
[I see. If I can be of any use, Milord. Don't hesitate.]
Marek's gaze drifted towards the floating orange mass. "I may have been too harsh towards you and the others, Prometheus," he admitted, his tone laced with a bit of remorse as memories of his single-minded obsession with the Divine War in Ajekreia resurfaced. In his pursuit of vengeance against the High Sovereigns, he had inadvertently neglected his most loyal allies.
[You jest, Milord. You have always been fair and kind towards us.]
Marek flicked the orange mass playfully. "You've certainly mastered the art of flattery, Prometheus. Did Wayland teach you that?"
[...]
Wait, it's true?
…
…
The night passed with Marek lost in thought, occasionally exchanging words with Prometheus as he pondered their next steps. Before long, the gentle rays of morning sunlight filtered through the dilapidated roof, signaling the start of a new day.
Anastasia stirred from her slumber, her deep red eyes slowly opening to find Marek's gaze fixed on the outside world. Sensing her wakefulness, Marek turned his attention to her.
"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" He asked.
Anastasia nodded, though a pang of guilt tugged at her as she realized Marek had foregone sleep to keep watch over her. She had intended to stay awake with him, but fatigue had overtaken her.
"Mm..." She tried to speak, but her throat felt parched from the recent days.
"Right, we should find water and food," Marek agreed, his thoughts mirroring hers. Though he doubted the slums held any reputable establishments, there might still be places offering sustenance, albeit in a rundown state.
Retrieving his cloak and concealing his dagger, Marek rose to his feet, offering a hand to Anastasia as they made their way out of the house. Despite the lingering chill of the morning air, the bright sky brought a glimmer of hope.
As they walked, Marek scanned their surroundings until his gaze fell upon a loosely hanging signboard that indicated a nearby tavern. Though the people entering and exiting appeared rough and intimidating, Marek saw no other viable options nearby. With a sense of urgency, he guided Anastasia towards the tavern, hoping to secure food and drink and perhaps find a way out of the slums.
-Thud
Pushing open the tavern doors, Marek led Anastasia inside, their presence initially drawing little attention from the people present. However, as they made their way further into the tavern, the room gradually fell silent, all eyes turning to the unfamiliar pair.
Anastasia clutched Marek's sleeve tightly, feeling uneasy under the scrutiny despite the safety of her hood.
Ignoring the stares, Marek marched straight to the bar, meeting the stern gaze of the bald barman.
"This ain't no place for babes fresh from their mothers' wombs. Clear off," the barman grunted.
"We just need water and food," Marek replied calmly, placing two silver coins on the bar. "I can pay."
The barman hesitated, then snatched up the coins begrudgingly. "Two roast chickens for the little ones!" he barked toward the kitchen where women worked.
"Do you have a restroom for girls?" Marek asked.
"Aye," the barman grunted in reply.
"Ask one of your women to accompany my sister inside," Marek ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. He knew the importance of privacy for girls, having grown up with sisters in Ajekreia.
"Huh?!" The barman glared, taken aback by Marek's commanding tone.
For an instant Marek thought about pounding the bartender's skull into his own bar till he bled to death, but he changed his mind and grabbed another silver coin instead.
Reluctantly, the guy took another silver coin. "Shosa! Get over your huge ass here and help the girl!" He growled at a large woman in the area.
Shosa walked over, glaring at Marek before turning to face Anastasia. "Follow me!"
Anastasia looked at Marek with concern, but he reassured her with a gentle smile. "I'll be right here. Don't worry."
With a nod, Anastasia followed the woman to the restroom, leaving Marek to deal with the barman.
Once Anastasia was out of sight, Marek erased his smile and sat on the nearby seat.
"Water."