The city was quiet, it was unsettling, especially at this time of year. The festival was right behind the corner, and in the next week or so, there will be a crowd of visitors. But there was no commotion, no one was setting anything up. The night was still early. At this point the city should be still bustling with people, putting up decorations, setting up the stages, and preparing for the festivities. But the silence was at least odd, if not scary. This once living city was turning into a ghost town. No one knows the reason, people just started to leave, or at least this is the official version.
Clouds started to cover the moon, sinking the town into deep dark night. The empty streets were illuminated by dim lantern lights. No living soul could be seen walking at this time anymore. Only a few hopeful ladies of the night, still brave enough to look for customers, that stopped coming a long time ago. As the night progresses, the lights in the windows begin to fade. The streets, covered in the shade of night, are a prime hunting ground for thiefs, and muggers. The back alleys in contrast to the main streets are still living their bustling lives. A hooded figure slowly moves to the end of one of them, black cloak hides him from any stray looks from above. He stops in front of the door sunk into the wall, so they are hidden for a prying eye of passers by. He knocked softly, not to alarm anyone that might be walking by, or have an opened window. A small slit opens up, and a set of green bloodshot eyes look at the cloaked figure, a deep growling voice, echos in the ally way:
– Password
– The path is covered in the shade of light – a soft voice whispers.
The door opens with a squeak, silence falls into the room, all the uneasy patrons look at the cloaked figure walking in. The door shuts with a hard thump sound, everyone keeps looking at the newcomer. A large hand of the bouncer moves over the hooded figure, grabs by the tip, and pulls it off. Long blonde hair spilled out like a golden river falling down the mountain, full red lips, and piercing amber eyes, looking in anger at all gathered. Conversations have resumed, and the place fils with noise. The woman walked to an empty seat at the bar. Bartender, a big man in a brown short sleeve shirt, walks up. His long beard falls all the way past the counter, long grey hair hides behind his back. Deep and at the same time soft voice, asks:
– What will it be?
– Information – she puts a gold coin on the bar.
– The door is that way – he points to the entrance.
– Specific information – another two coins find their way to the counter.
– What do you need to know?
– Sethari.
– Lost to the shadow.
– Asavan.
– Did not return from the deep.
– Zertin.
– Non of the fallen can be found, and don’t look anymore that information can kill you.
The woman stands up, and walks to the door, the bouncer opens them up with a squeak, and shuts them behind with a thump. She pulls up the hood, and starts to walk to the main street. As she turns the cornet, a man walks behind her, and with a swift motion, puts a dagger to her throat and cuts it open. Blood covers her, as she falls to the ground clutching her wound to stop the bleeding.
– A word of advice, in the next life, don’t look into things that you can’t handle.
A blue rose, falls on still convulsing body, clicking sound of the mens boots, as he walks away, echo in the empty streets. A puddle of blood paints the streets of this grey city, making it even more of a ghost town.
Autor: A.A.