4th of Vhalar, 719
Continuation of this thread
Continuation of this thread
Zih had an idea.
Probably a dangerous one but an idea all the same. But first she needed to get her things back, which was easier than she was anticipating. No one looked twice as she entered the Tavern, or walked to her old room. Other people were already in rooms, some where she knew other Outlanders have been staying. There belongs were trashed or pocketed slyly when their fellow Melrathi weren't looking. Any who hadn't come back the trial before were most certainly dead, the Yludih tried not to recall that some of those residents had children. A dark, well seemed to spring up from insider her at the thought but she couldn't be distracted. What if someone asked who she was? What if she met her double? There were far too many people and the hallway was far too narrow. Her room felt even smaller than when she'd first arrived, though thankfully there were few people in the room. After all, Zih hardly kept much but she couldn't make clothes nor would she be able to buy any without her things but she'd hidden them carefully, under the trunk and with nothing obvious most wandered right back out. Though she itched to grab her things and run, it would be strange to find things right away. She was a native, the thought repeated over and over. It was all that kept her from grabbing her things and slinking out the window like a thief, instead she waited till all visible eyes were occupied or turned away the reached under and pulled out her bag. It was comfortable in her arms, and Zih swiftly put it on as if she had come in with it. An exaggerated sigh left her lips, trying to silently signify there was nothing as she headed back to the door, only to flinch as conversation drifted toward her but thankfully not at her.
"Damn Outlanders! Can't even take care of themselves and they come here and ruin our city? Look at this room! Bare as a babies bottom, useless, the lot of them."
The Yludih hurried away before she could get sucked in or in case her expression gave away the squirming, eel like feeling working it's way into her stomach. It only began to fade when the chill of the outside air hit her, and the mutterings and dark conversations about the trials faded into background noise. Still, she couldn't relax just yet, if she ever did, because now she needed somewhere to stay. Though there were rumors of her kind killing and entirely replacing the faces they stole, Zih never believed them and would hardly do so herself but it did leave her with the question of how to get a house when she should already have a house. Which is where earliest dangerous thought came back, like a foreboding storm cloud it pushed through her mind.
Yet...
What other choice did she have? Her gaze feel the waves beyond the fog and chill of the weather. Zih could not actually see it but the tang was always in the air from the seas, and the scent of cold water on her nose from the lakes and rivers or possibly just the wet, damp air. If she hid till the season ended it would be fine. But Zih had heard of these Northern Mer and their castle. She'd stick out, and in the oceans out here she'd likely have to fend off predators or risk being caught by the locals as well, while the non-aquatic races were more easily fooled the Mer were not. One use of the telepathy and she was done for. The only reason she'd gotten away with it in Ne'haer is because she'd grown up there, able to hide and be ignored as the Mer children around her grew up, here she'd be a new face. Always a new face. As slowly as she could, the young woman forced herself to breathe slower, her thoughts slowing with it though not stopping.
She needed a house.
And after yestertrial she knew where to find one. The mage from before had likely died, a thought she forced herself to think of as fact and not a terrifying reality, but they had clearly been drug from a house. Most mages didn't live close in town, and most would think his house cursed or at the very least no one would care if a native procured it now that it was empty. At least, hopefully still empty. With a determination she didn't feel, the Yludih retraced the steps she'd taken before, she stuck to the more crowded areas. The opposite of what she wanted but just like when she was a child, she could slip in and out of them and no one noticed or cared to track the amount of people moving, milling, and chatting. But the whole process was creating a stiffness to her shoulders that only grew when she finally found the scorch marks of the previous trials battle, the ground still showing signs of the scuffle, and near enough to make her vision blur.
It could have been her they took.
The Yludih counted to seven then pressed on, counting each step she took to distract herself and silence her mind as much as possible. Her gaze roved until she spotted what she was looking for, it was ramshackle but it bored the weather well if not for the clearly unkempt walkway. Her breathe stilled, white noise in her head instead of numbers as she crept forward, gently setting each foot down to be as soundless as possible when she stepped to the door and cracked it open. The air was chilly so clearly no one had used the hearth, and the room was barely visible in the dim light of the windows. Taking a risk, Zih slipped in the small space she 'd open and near slammed it shut behind her.
No one jumped out or screamed "a-ha!" or worse. Only when the silence, filled only by her ragged breaths and the wind, broke through the house did her legs stop shaking and her shoulders droop. Her face twinged uncomfortably as it relaxed, cramped from holding whatever strange expression it had bore. It was furnished much like her apartment. Likely looted already but Zih didn't care. She had somewhere to hide, and it's disastrous outward appearance would likely keep others from caring I someone used it or coming to it. There were logs for the dirty hearth, and a bed. That's all the Yludih needed to survive or at least hide herself away from all the Melrathi eyes that might recognize her for the person she wasn't.
Still cautious she set her things by the door then began to peer fully around the room. The trunk was clearly broken open, there were no clothes left though the blankets were tossed to the floor and she picked them up with a quick, fast enough to almost send her sprawling, like she was expecting something to jump out from under them. But aside from flinging the blanket onto the bed, nothing untoward happened, and the Yludih continued on, her racing. This was a terrible plan. What if the mage wasn't dead? What if someone came back? What if more looters came? What if-what if-what if. Too many thoughts to focus on ran through, making her finger nails dig into the flesh of her palms as she continued to scope out the house, waiting for something to come but it refused and brought no relief. Instead her back straightened, her neck cramping from how tightly she held herself once she finally circled back to her bag.
It was too easy.
It had gone too well, things never went well without there being something that went horrible. But no matter how many breaks she stood stock still near the door ready to flee, nothing change. Not the soundless noise outside, the the emptiness of the house, not the heavy breathing of her own nerves. Her body ached from standing in the cold, and doing nothing but staring around the terribly light room, eyes straining for some imaginary villain but there was still nothing. Only when her eyes began to truly strain, the trial coming to a close did she step away from the door once more, her knees popping in protest as she laid her bag in the broken trunk then began to light the fire in the hearth. It was cold enough now that the chattering of her teeth was probably not from her nerves so she stayed near the fire while her body tried to forcibly relax, gaze resting on the door and likely it would for the rest of the night.
Truly this had been a bad idea.
