Scales and Swords ✓

2: Hope

That was it. They were gone. It was as simple as that. The gem in my hand glistened under the moonlight as I stared at it for the longest time, expecting it to speak, float, transform back into my parents and siblings. But no matter how many tears I cried and hours I waited, nothing happened.

I could barely stand but I had to. I had to get up and fix this. I had to do something. Anything at all. Because doing nothing felt worse.

I could hardly remember how I made it to the road. And I could hardly remember my name when a ratty old wagon stopped beside me and the coachman asked me what I was doing out so late.

"I need to go, my family, its...the edge of town." I stumbled over my words, as my thoughts jumbled together.

He nudged his head towards his wagon. "You're Darrell's daughter aren't ya?"

I nodded silently.

"Well, I'd be happy to take you to the edge of town. I'm leaving town anyway. My wagon is mostly empty except for carts of perfume."

I blinked away the tears and nodded. I climbed on the back and soon I was nodding off to sleep. I didn't think much of it, couldn't think at all, just let exhaustion take over.

~~~

I woke when the horses whined and the wagon came to a rough stop. "This your stop I'm assuming?"

I stepped out, thanked the man and he left.

Before me stood a tall brick building covered with crawling ivy and other wild plants. This must have been the guild for there was no other building for miles. To its left was an open field of graves, juxtaposing the bustle of life just adjacent. Light and sound seeped through the ajar door of the guild.

I took careful steps towards it. Inside sat men and women around tables chatting lively. A band played at a small stage in the corner and at what I assumed was the bar was a burly old man. I decided if I needed to find someone, I ask the man who looked in charge. He was telling dirty jokes to a man sitting at a nearby table, mixing drinks and passing it to those who sat before him.

I strolled up to him and knocked on the table lightly. He may not have heard me, because he didn't respond.

"Um, hello there, sir," I said.

He peered at me from the corner of his eye. Scowled and said, "I don't serve drinks to little girls. Especially those who wear scarves in doors."

I didn't see how my scarf mattered but I had other things on my mind. "I'm looking for someone."

He turned and finally faced me. "He wasn't here. And even if he was we wouldn't have fallen for his lies. We may live in the outskirts but our loyalty lies solely with his majesty. If not then what of our young able-bodied men and women who leave this guild everyday to fight for his army."

When I didn't respond and instead looked quite clearly confused. He cleared his throat and said, "If you're an assassin then, just know that I took no body's bride. And even if I did, what would it matter? She chose to leave with me. That's assuming that someone's bride did leave with me but I—"

"I'm looking for Anselm," I let out before he could go on.

He bristled and fell quiet. He bit his lip and sat on his stool. "You've come to the wrong place little missy. Anselm's next door."

My heart boomed and banged and anticipated what was to come. "You don't mean?"

"The man was a good mage. A great one to be exact. But we all know where all the good end up. He fought in the war, came back wrapped in cloth from head to toe. Why, do you ask little lady? Are you his wife?"