With shaking fingers, she pulled down the hood of her cloak as she entered through the tavern door. The warmth was immediate and welcome. A fire must be kept going all evening for such a comforting heat to hit her as soon as she stepped foot inside- something she was more than grateful for. By now the tavern had cleared out considerably, only a few drunken customers slumped over the bar, and a handful of patrons sprinkled amongst the tables. It was a relief to see so few people as the young woman was worried about it being too loud to hold a conversation.
Slowly, Asteria took a deep breath, held it, and then breathed out. She found herself doing this more and more recently. Something about approaching strangers and bombarding them with questions made her feel dreadfully uncomfortable. It wasn’t totally clear to her as to why it made her feel this way, especially for someone who had always been so inquisitive. More than likely she had grown tired of having to ask the same questions and never make any headway with the answers she got.
But what was the alternative? She had come this far; she had been on the road for far too long to just give up and turn back. Days had quickly turned into weeks, and her coin purse had grown light. The countless towns she had passed through- some so small they didn’t even have names or a mark on the map she had “borrowed” from Old Kavstrick, the archivist of her village. He’d surely have her clean the ancient shelving that stored his hoard of material once he noticed it was gone. It was worth it, though, if she was successful in bringing Adrin home. If she went back home empty handed she would never forgive herself. Besides, what was there for her to return to? Parents that were more disappointed with her for going on this journey to begin with rather than her coming back without any answers? That wasn’t something she planned on having to deal with.
Floorboards creaked beneath her as she approached the bar, riddled with nerves. Her eyes darted around the dimly lit space. There was an older man behind the bar, pouring drinks and raving about some stew that they were serving all night. The patrons he was trying to sell were likely too full of mead to have much of an appetite, but his eyes lit up when he caught sight of her.
His voice was low and gravelly as he greeted her and began his pitch about the stew again. Asteria raised her hands, trying to wave off the attempt to sell her on the meal.
“Apologies, but I’m not here for a hot meal,” she said, all too quietly. Raising her voice to be above an anxious whisper, she continued, “I was actually hoping perhaps you could help me with something else.” As his eyebrows furrowed at her, she pulled out an old leather-bound journal. A small, worn-down pencil kept the page that she immediately flipped open.
“Well, I can certainly try. Though, I cannot promise that I will be able to do much,” he said with a polite tone and a soft laugh.
She showed him the page in her book, a drawing of a man on the page. While he stared at it and stroked his beard in clear contemplation, Asteria hoped that the sketch did justice. Her mother had certainly thought so. It had been high praise considering her mother’s skill when it came to the arts. The old man cleared his throat and shook his head.
Disappointment once again crept into the forefront of her mind, but she tried her best to ignore it. It was a shock to her that the feeling still somehow came along despite how often she had gone through the same set of questions with near-identical answers. Was it a good thing that she felt disappointed? She couldn’t tell.
“I can tell that certainly wasn’t the answer you were looking for,” he said sympathetically.
Asteria tried to laugh it off, asking, “That obvious, huh?” And he gave a soft nod. It was too hard for her to hide her emotions- or perhaps she was too tired. Going through this same process in every town, every roadside inn, and every single caravan she came across was a draining process. Yet, it kept her busy. It allowed her to meet new people- even if it was a road to nowhere.
He leaned onto the bar, his face coming a bit too close for comfort. Even in the extremely dim light, she could see the details in his skin. She could see his wrinkles and pores, and she noticed a thin scar cutting down the side of his face. It made her feel uneasy, so she moved slightly to the side to gain a little space between them.
Setting the book down on the bar top, she folded her hands in front of her. Her eyes settled on the drawing in front of her. An all too familiar face stared up at her. A chill ran through her despite the cozy warmth of the tavern, and she felt the eyes that she had drawn watching her. It was a ridiculous thought, an irrational feeling. She shook it off and prepared to ask her next question.
“Have you possibly noticed anything odd lately? Anyone new passing through? Perhaps people in a group of half a dozen or more that stood out?” Asteria hadn’t intended on asking him so many questions at once. She was clearly growing tired of this process. While she would normally ask questions one at a time and give time for a response, it appeared that this was no longer the case.
There was something else, too. Something made her want to leave, making her rush through her routine questions. What she had thought to be the watchful gaze of her drawing was that of another. Someone was watching her.
“Noticed anything odd lately? No, not really. I mainly see the same groups come and go in the evenings. Plenty of locals to feed, even more who want a drink. There hasn’t been anyone new through these parts in a while- at least none that I’ve seen myself. There may have been whisperings about travelers passing through, but none that have found their way to me,” his answers were more than most would give. “You sure seem to have a lot of questions. What exactly is this about? There must be more to this than a missing friend or whoever.”
“Brother,” Asteria corrected. “It’s my brother who is missing. One day I came home, and he was gone. I need to track him down.”
“People leave of their own volition all the time-“
“Not him,” She interrupted. This wasn’t the first time she had heard the suggestion. “My brother would not leave without a note or a goodbye or something of the sort.” He would never do that, not after their promise to each other. They had both sworn that if one were ever to save up enough to journey out of the village they’d spent their whole lives in, they would let the other know.
His hands shot up in front of him defensively, and he explained, “I meant no offense there, young miss. I was just trying to give you an alternative to what seemingly happened. Just making a possible observation from my experience of seeing many people like you coming through searching for their loved ones. Most run off, few are actually missing.” His eyes were sympathetic, and she almost felt bad for how reactive she was.
Gods, she thought, I really have grown tired of it all.
“I do have one last question if you don’t mind indulging me one last time.”
He gives a polite nod and another soft smile. With how many she had encountered, Asteria did not believe a single one was as patient with her as this man was. Most gave brief answers, exasperated sighs, and not an ounce of kindness.
Breathing out a sigh of relief, she asked, “Have you possibly overheard any whispers regarding anything suspicious- perhaps even occult? Strange symbols, bizarre markings, odd sightings in the night?”
Emotions rapidly flashed across his face. First, there was a look of shock, then one of confusion. Lastly, he looked at her with concern in his eyes. A long silence hung in the air. Uncomfortable, she shifted her weight.
Glancing over her shoulder, she observed the room once again. She couldn’t shake the feeling of someone staring, watching. The entirety of the conversation left her feeling uneasy because of the feeling of eyes on her, and she wanted to check if she could spot whoever it was. Everyone around them seemed to be deep in their conversations or drink; a few patrons had even fallen asleep at their tables, drink in hand. A hooded figure was in the furthest corner of the room, but the person was slumped against the wall. She assumed they too must be asleep- or too drunk to worry about.
Finally finding the words, the old man demanded, “Don’t go around asking questions like that. It is an unsavory thing for a young woman to be going around looking for such dark, troublesome folk. I cannot answer that for you; I will not answer that.”
Asteria was about to further interrogate him on the matter, but he put up a calloused, wrinkled hand in protest. She wasn’t going to get anywhere with him on the topic, so she packed her journal back into her bag and bid him farewell.
As she slipped her journal bag into its spot within her bag, she began to head for the door. She took a brief moment to soak in the warmth of the tavern one last time. Bracing herself for the frigid wind and downpour that awaited her outside, her eyes gazed back. It was really just to reassure herself that no one was rising out of their seats to stalk her, but she felt the need to give the room one more in-depth look over.
The wind nearly knocked the breath right out of her when she took her first step back outside. It had picked up in intensity since she went in, making her miss the cozy tavern instantly. She almost wondered if it was worth the uneasy feeling of eyes on her just to stay inside where she was safe from the cold and wind, but she decided it really wasn’t.
Mud squelched beneath her boots as she made her way west of town. Something was telling her it was time to leave town, no matter how late into the night it was. After how she felt in the tavern, she didn’t want to spend another moment there- gods knew she certainly did not want to be there for the night.
Luckily, the town was surrounded by small mountains on most of its sides. There was a good chance she would be able to find a cave or some kind of natural shelter in the rocky sides. She hastily ran for the edge of the woods, hoping that the trees would provide at least some protection from the weather.
While she walked through near complete darkness, something felt off. It was similar to how she felt in the tavern. Eyes were on her, watching her every step. She nearly let out a laugh and thought that she was just being ridiculous at this point. When she was in the tavern, she had assumed the feeling was likely because she was a stranger in their fairly small town. So there was a chance that a local may have been staring at her or watching her during the interaction. However, for there to be this same sensation as she walked through the woods at night with only flashes of lightning revealing her surroundings… well, that was just paranoid of her. She tried to shake off the idea as just that.
It lingered, though. The eyes, the watching. The feeling clung to her and would not be shaken off. A massive bolt of lightning lit the sky, and she saw a small cave entrance off to her left. As she crept closer, she noticed that it was just big enough for her to slip into and only wide enough to fit a person or two. Another flash across the sky lit up the space, and she felt confident that it was empty. There were no nooks and crannies to hide in, so Asteria felt sure that there wouldn’t be any predators hiding around a corner waiting to pounce.
Her bag slipped from her shoulder and slammed to the ground, and she crouched onto the cave floor. With frozen fingers, she struggled to untie the cloak. It was heavy from all the rain, nearly soaked through. Her clothes were a bit damp, but it wasn’t something worth changing over. Slowly, she leaned back into the cave wall. The cool rock bit into her skin, but she was so tired she didn’t care. Leaning her back into the wall and stretching her legs, she reached into her bag and rummaged around. At the very bottom was a spare cloak.
Originally, she wasn’t going to pack it. She hadn’t wanted to overpack and weigh herself down, but it was her mother who talked her into bringing the spare. It had been unexpected for her to step in and help Asteria pack; she hadn’t even expected her mother to speak to her before she left. Yet there she had been, and in her softest tone she had insisted that it was better to have a little extra weight than to be underprepared. She’d have to make sure to tell her how right she was when she was able to return home… if she was able to return home.
Her parents had looked furious when they learned that she planned to pack her things and go searching for Adrin. They told her that he had made his choice, insisting he left home of his own accord. But she knew this couldn’t be true; he would not leave without letting her know somehow. A tear rolled down her cheek as she drowned in the memory of her mother pleading with her not to leave. She had sobbed, telling her only daughter that it was far too dangerous and to accept that he had gone. Her heart broke thinking about that being the last conversation she had with her mother. They’d see each other again - she was sure of this. She just was not sure how welcomed back she would be after it all.
Despite being homesick, Asteria knew she couldn’t return home if she didn’t find her brother. She couldn’t handle the thought of passing his room in their family home and seeing it empty; something she had done every day for a week before deciding she was going to find him. All of his things were still there. His desk overflowing with academic books of every subject, papers scattered about. His bed was left in a rumpled mess, as though he had just gotten up for the morning.
She held the cloak tight, a deep pain rumbling in her chest as loud as thunder. Wind rushed by and sent a chill through the cave, and she draped herself in the cloak like a blanket after pulling her knees to her chest. The cool cave and little warmth made her reconsider her decision of leaving the tavern. She could have treated herself to a warm room with what was left of her coin, ignoring the unsettling sense she endured there.
Another flash revealed her observer.
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