The Desolation of Light

Chapter 11~ Not all are what they seem

                          Chapter 11~  Not all are what they seem

          It was already close to mid-morning when Evelyn woke up the next day, lying sideways on a rickety bed. The mattress below her smelled a great deal like straw, and several pieces of dried grass lay scattered about on the floor. She looked at it lazily for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. The night before had become a blur after her hours of blighted sleep. She had met a Rogue, a man named Emrys. He had offered to help her, but only moments before had seemed so... disinterested. Wearily, she rubbed a hand over her face. What am I getting myself into?

          A candle flickered inside the lamp set on the nightstand. She picked it up and moved it over to rest on the table near the center of the room. There was no windows in the room she was staying in, nor were there many commodities or a mirror. But what did she expect? She had gotten the room out of the charity of the Tavern-keeper. If the woman hadn't taken pity on her, Evelyn was certain she would have been sleeping out on the streets. Out with those devilish men and women. A shiver traced up and down her spine. Something was better than nothing.

          Her mind drifted back to Emrys's words, and feverishly she worked her fingers through her hair, trying to undo the tangles. What had she looked like to him the night before? Some poor girl with seaweed in her hair and a dress that was staying on solely by God's grace alone. She felt her cheeks burn in a blush when she remembered him mentioning her: "disheveled appearance."

          "I must have looked like something the cat would drag in!" She stated with absolute horror. She was completely mortified. Quickly she stripped of her clothes, grabbed the cloth and water basin set on the table, and began to scrub herself hurriedly. Just the thought of anyone seeing her like that made her scrub herself furiously until her skin glowed a light pink. Then she set about washing out her hair, and lastly, her dress.

          By the time she had put the garment back on, her horror had grown to a higher level. Too much cleavage and thigh were visible, and far too much of her sides; and being tossed around the night before by several drunken men hadn't helped improve the condition. She tied on her armor, repairing the damaged ones as she went, and hoped that it would at least help to keep some of her dress in place. Evelyn was relieved to find her sword had gone completely undamaged during the course of the last few days. When she tugged it free of its scabbard it glowed brilliantly like moonlight, a faint hum emitting from the blade after its contact with the metal sheath. It was so beautiful. A lone tear streaked down her cheek as she remembered that her mentor probably had not survived the Dragon attack.

          Then she put the blade away and headed for the door. It was almost time to meet Emrys. The last thing she wanted to do was to be late and give him yet another reason to change his mind.

          Outside was a long, narrow hallway leading to a set of stairs. The doors along the walls were featureless aside from a few numbers painted on the outside. It was somewhat eerie how dark it was inside the building, even for it being daytime. Evelyn moved a bit faster, reaching the stairs in seconds before practically bolting down the steps.

          The early-morning hours hadn't changed a thing about the crowds. Just as many men and woman clustered around the tables, hooting and hollering from far too many drinks. Evelyn eyed the drunken mess with disgust. She had never touched a drink in her life, but these people found no shame to drink until they basically passed out on the floor. There was nothing respectful about that. But then... she had to remind herself that these men were sailors. And for many of them, the drinks were their only company on the long voyages over sea.