The evening had just gotten busier and busier. The tavern had filled up with patrons and if the group hadn’t already procured a table it would have been impossible to even find a place to stand.

The nights were dangerous and most folk spent indoors, which means most folk spent it drinking.

Lysithea had sunk further into her seat after her and Lysander had returned to their table. She had sat silently and only responded to some questions here and there.

The men’s conversations had been on the light side. Evander had kept the atmosphere joyful and kept cracking jokes at his partners’ expense. Adrian had gotten upset at a few of them while Cadmun had kept his usual stern and polite demeanour through it all.

“Foods up.” Kelly walked up to them with two large trays. She placed plates full of food and cutlery before them.

The food was steaming hot and the table emanated the strong scent of roasted meat. Tristan prodded his large cut of lamb and it wobbled while some of the juices leaked out the sides. He smiled wide and immediately began to eat, rather messily.

Lysithea watched the rest of them as they dug in. They all looked so happy and she felt a swelling in her heart. Smiling, she looked at her own food. A plate of grilled, roasted and boiled vegetables. 

The food lacked flavour, but considering the Rosas lack in commodities and wealth it was rather nice. They had all been used to dried meat, rations and the occasional game, without any spices or glazings. 

As they ate they all noticed how the atmosphere in the tavern suddenly turned sour. People became solemn and it was clear that the outside was getting to them.

This happened often. The night came with a curse, it wasn’t the strongest of magics, but it was enough to bring either sadness or hatred to one's heart. Many of the population or Rosas had either grown used to it or taken their own life.

The room quieted down at the clinking of glasses and laughter of friends had vanished completely.

The Shahermerites looked between each other, they looked concerned and even Cadmun’s body language shifted slightly.

Lysander leaned back in his seat as he put the cutlery down on the table, he listened to the silence and low murmur of different conversations around them. Watching how people hung their heads or clenched their fists.

Tristan placed his hand on Lysithea who was rubbing the sides of her head as her headache began to grow from the negative energy which hung in the air, making the lanterns go dim.

She looked up as the sound of heavy boots distracted her from the darkness which attempted to corrupt her mind. Upon the table stood Evander, with a tall glass of beer in his hand.

“Everyone!” he shouted, attempting to gain everyone's attention.

The people in the tavern instantly looked towards him, as if startled by his outburst. Lysithea had never seen the man so serious and then a big, proud smirk grew on his face.

“I’m raising my glass to all of you… all of us.” He said, raising his beer even higher, some sloshing around in his tankard causing a few drops to escape. 

“We all ended up here by fate. Born or trapped. We started out weak, pathetic even.” He continued. His voice was strong and booming, it bounced off the walls. “But let's face it. If we hadn’t been we wouldn't have built bonds like the ones we have. Yes, we’ve lost a few… many even, to the darkness that lurks outside.” He gestured towards the windows and doors. The faces of the people around them went dark and sorrowful. 

“We will miss every soul, but with the loss of them we’ll just grow stronger. We will grow angrier. Now the days where we were the weak are in the past.” He stomped his foot against the table, causing the plates and glasses to clink and bang against the wood. “Together there is not a battle we cannot win, and the soul that we lose in the fight will be with us as the loss makes us even stronger.”

The other Shahermerites looked up at them. Adrian was smiling and Cadmun had crossed his arms with a nod of his head. Lysander leaned his arm against the back of his chair and Lysithea noticed how he solemnly hid his expression behind his tankard as he began to gulp down his drink.

“So let those bastards outside try their best. Let their night be dark because we can beat them… if not tonight then the next. So cheer up and cheers to us all for surviving this long!”

Lysithea listened, with her gaze firmly against the table as the whole tavern cheered and threw their glasses in the air. She watched as the light in the lanterns became brighter as everyone's mood turned from worse to better.

As Evander jumped down on the floor with a grin of satisfaction the front door slammed shut and the room fell quiet.

Everyone's attention fell upon the entrance where a tall man in dark clothes stood.

He had brown well kept short hair, strong green eyes and a handsome face. His skin was sun-kissed and he carried a beard, wellgroomed, sitting around his lips. 

He was fiddling with his brown leather gloves which he pulled off one by one and placed over his arm. He wore a suit jacket in black and a waistcoat in brown. His shirt was clean and white and his black boots shined, well taken care of. The man's trousers were of expensive material and it was clear that the man was a high nobility.

Evander began to cower, grabbing the side of his face and trying to fix the messiness of his hair.

“Shit, shit, shit. Do you think he heard me?” he muttered to his companions and they all looked between him and the man at the door.

“Calm down.” Adrian said, waving a hand in the air. “You’re fine.”

The noble man removed his jacket and handed it to a servant who walked behind him, looking almost as important as the man himself.

“Lord Blakewell won’t care.” Lysander said, bitterly.

They all watched as the man walked past the patrons of the tavern and placed a hand on the countertop of the bar.

“One whiskey please, Kelly.” He said, his voice dripping with pride and ego, yet there was some kindness lurking beside it all. 

Lysithea watched as Evander sank deeper and deeper into his seat, hand over his mouth as his face became more and more red. She looked between him and a tall man at the bar, who now leaned his back against the counter and took a look around the room.

“Who is-... is he?” She asked, carefully.

“Head of the Blakewell family. He’s one of the richest men in Rosas.” Cadmun said, sternly.

“He owns every bar and brothel inside the city walls.” Adrian continued, still looking over at the man from time to time. “Has a sister.”

“She’s gone.” Lysander added and everyone but Evander looked his way.

“What do you mean ‘she’s gone’?” Adrian frowned slightly and Lysander gave him a long look.

“She dabbled in dark things and hasn’t been seen since.” The golden knight added and his eyes moved towards Lysithea and he stared her down. She sank further and further into her seat, not being able to look away from the stern and unwavering gaze he gave her.

“Like they all do.”