The tavern door had barely stopped creaking when the room swallowed her.

  Heat pressed close.

  Ale. Stew. Sweat.

  Laughter layered thick across low rafters stained dark after years of smoke.

  Maya did not step fully inside at first.

  She turns her head to her Batin. Paused in place as she stops.

  “Nikolai.”

  He stood just outside of the tavern, broad shoulders half-lit by the flickering lanterns hung just by the doorframe.

  “Wait outside.”

  A pause.

  His jaw tightens.

  “Master-”

  Her eyes lifted beneath her hood.

  “If I am seen with you, they will assume rank. If I am seen alone, I am forgettable.”

  Not pleading.

  Commanding.

  “Outside.”

  He inclined his head once and stepped back into the shadow.

  Only then did she enter.

  The noise returned as if nothing had shifted. Like as though she just stepped back into the world after momentarily escaping it.

  Men hunched over mugs, talking loud, some boisterously telling stories to their friends. Dice struck wood. A barmaid carrying two bowls of something - steaming and brown.

  Maya let the hood remain over her. She did not scan like Nikolai would.

  She absorbed.

  Maya moved toward the free stool at the counter.

  Not even halfway into the room, a hand caught her. Calloused palm. Rough fingers. Possessive.

  Squeezing into the soft curve of her backside.

  A head at the bar turned to its side.

  Hooded. White strands of hair peeking at the front.

  And beside her - a taller woman, maybe slightly broader than most men in the tavern, hood also drawn low. Her presence dense and unmoving. Observant.

  But Maya did not notice.

  “If you’re looking for warmth, little bird, we got space.”

  The man that touched her laughed.

  And his friends laughed even louder.

  Maya stopped.

  But she didn’t flinch.

  “Soft one,” he muttered as he took a swig from his mug. “Must be new in town.”

  The touch only lasted a breath.

  Her fingers tightened against the fabric of the bottom of her torn dress.

  A faint tremor ran through the wood of the nearest table as its mugs clinked into each other.

  By her dress, faint blue streaks of light shimmered near the inside of her wrist - faint like breath on glass.

  All the patrons too busy with whatever they had going on. None the wiser.

  Maya exhaled slowly as the light vanished.

  She stepped forward - out of reach. Continuing her walk to the counter towards the free stool.

  The man laughed again.

  No second touch. Just crude murmurs toward Maya directed at his friends.

  “Aw, don't be shy,” he giggled.

  Maya took a seat on the free stool. And ordered quietly.

  “Something small, not too heavy,” she said to the barkeeper. Placing a gold ema on the counter.

  Like he has done almost a million times - one swift motion as the barkeep swipes it into his pocket and places a cup of ale onto the counter.

  “It’s the lightest we get.”

  For several seconds, neither spoke.

  The white-haired woman did not look at her.

  “You were on the bridge,” she said.

  Flat. Direct.

  Maya did not react outwardly.

  “So were you.”

  A pause.

  “You threw that spell.” Her eyes did not move away from the mug of beer in front of her. Seemingly lost in thought, but not confused.

  “You ran at me first.”

  The taller woman beside her did not move, but Maya felt her attention sharpen.

  “You don’t belong here,” the white-haired woman states.

  Maya lifted her cup to her lips, but did not take a sip.

  “Neither do you.”

  Behind them the group of men that had laughed and joked with their friend for having groped Maya continued to grow louder. Laughing and keeping to themselves.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  But still boisterous.

  “You smell like blood too,” the white-haired woman next to her continued.

  Correct. But Maya wasn’t entirely sure on what she meant.

  “And you look like you just lost someone,” Maya retorts.

  Another pause. Slightly more tense this time.

  The small creak of wood on floorboard sounds as the hooded girl turns around and hops off her stool and walks towards the exit.

  Taller woman soon following her.

  Loud chattering and joking continue among the group near the centre of the tavern. More comments about Maya were being made - more vulgar this time - mainly coming from the man that had touched her.

  A snap of movement.

  A fist lands directly on the throat of the man. Collapsing him instantly, clutching his neck, choking on pain and air that would not enter.

  The tavern fell silent as the hooded white-haired girl opens the door to the exit and steps outside like nothing had happened.

  Taller one following in her wake. Hooded head turning and looking down at the scene of the man passed out on the floor as she too walks out.

  An unclear twist at the corner of her lips as she smirks.

  Maya finishes her drink and jumps off her stool.

  Following.

  The alley was narrower than it looked from the street. Lantern light barely reaching the stones on the walls.

  The white-haired woman stopped mid-stride as another snap of movement happens.

  Maya barely registered the movement before her back hits stone.

  A hand caught her shoulder and held it down while the cold feel of steel from a half-sheathed blade now pressed against her throat.

  Close enough to feel the faint tremor of breathing on its steel and her lips.

  “You followed,” she snarled.

  Her knee pressed between Maya’s thighs, anchoring her.

  Pinning.

  The weight was not crushing, but it was controlling.

  Above her, white hair spilled out like silk from the shadows of her hood.

  Dark eyes.

  Unforgiving.

  Behind her, the taller woman had moved and gotten into a half-battle stance. Eyes focussed on her peripheries without moving a muscle. One hand hovering over the hilt of her weapon.

  She did not speak.

  She could not.

  Nikolai had his steel half-drawn.

  Maya raises her hand.

  Without uttering a single word, had commanded her Batin to stand down.

  Nikolai stopped instantly.

  The tall woman looked over - not at Maya, but at her Master.

  Awaiting command.

  Maya noticed it.

  The silence.

  The obedience without command.

  Bound by something unspoken.

  Interesting.

  The blade pressed slightly harder against Maya’s throat.

  “Who are you?” the white-haired girl asked through gritted teeth.

  “Someone you tried to kill.”

  “You threw me into the water.”

  “You were about to draw your blade.”

  The knee between Maya’s thighs pressed subtly closer.

  She leaned lower. Their faces now inches apart.

  “You smelled like the capital.”

  Maya’s brows tightened slightly.

  “I am from the capital.”

  For the first time, something passed through Maya’s eyes that were not fury.

  Maya’s fingers curls slightly into the stone beneath her.

  It felt like the alley grew still. Like something had pressed on the bodies of all four of them from above.

  Not heavy. But strong enough to be felt through their clothing.

  Maya did not mean to release it. But she had been holding everything inside since the castle.

  Since her mother and father.

  Since the library.

  Since the bridge.

  Since the tavern.

  The pressure cracked.

  As blue spirit energy and aura erupted from around her - not outwards, but inward - flowing around the girl pressing the blade to her throat.

  The alley trembled as dust lifted and cracks started emerging on the stones surrounding her.

  Only the four of them felt it.

  Contained.

  Dense.

  But, raw.

  “If you’re going to kill me, just make it quick,” Maya quietly cries out. Defeated.

  Nikolai shifted.

  “What are you?” the girl asked.

  “Someone who no longer has a home.”

  The blade raises half an inch. Leaving behind a line of faint blood.

  The aura of blue energy faded. Settling, and dissipating into the thick air of the alleyway.

  But the air remain charged.

  The girl did not move off her. Her grip tightening slightly on Maya’s shoulder.

  “You’re trained,” the girl says.

  “A little bit.”

  Maya’s breathing was shallow now.

  “You’re unstable.”

  “So are you,” Maya replies.

  For a moment, it wasn’t an interrogation.

  It was a contest.

  Control.

  The girl lowers the blade some more - but did not remove it.

  A red ribbon slips out of Maya’s sleeve.

  Cyan eyes of the girl widened. Her hand on Maya’s shoulder now instinctively reaching over to her hair.

  Recognition struck like a physical blow.

  She is mounted on Maya’s stomach now.

  “Where did you get this?” she asked, voice lower now.

  “It fell on me when you went over the bridge,” Maya said quietly. “I kept it.”

  The grip around the girl’s blade faltered - only slightly.

  A distant tremor was felt far off from beyond the town. This one not from Maya.

  The girl turned her head sharply. Inhaling.

  She could smell it.

  Destructive High Magick Arts.

  “Raze,” Nikolai utters.

  The girl rose slowly.

  The loss of weight between Maya’s thighs felt sudden.

  She sheathes her blade before looking down at Maya. Her short frame towering over Maya from the angle.

  “You felt that.”

  “No, but I could smell it.” Her head still pointed in the direction that it was coming from. “It wasn’t structured.”

  “Neither was mine.”

  Maya eases herself up off the stone pavement.

  “Whatever is happening wasn’t just a rebellion. It’s something else,” Maya spoke. Her hand to her throat, thin fingers caressing over the shallow cut the blade made. “I don’t know why, but I know who led it.”

  The taller woman remained silent. Stance easing, but still appearing to wait for a permission she had not been given.

  Maya noticed again.

  No words allowed.

  Strange.

  “If you intend on hunting the ones that burned your world,” Maya continues, “you’ll need to understand what burned mine.”

  The sounds of the tavern had restarted now. Filling the silence that once deafened the alleyway.

  “You’ll lose control again.” Maya’s thoughts were interrupted by the girl’s statement.

  “Then walk with me.”

  A pause as the exchange seemed to settle, but tension still lingered in the air.

  “You don’t walk with me,” the white-haired girl said. “You walk near me.”

  Her eyes darted to Maya’s. Gaze fixated on hers.

  “Then don’t slow down.”