Yep.
Nora could tell this wasn’t going to go well.
The golden light of the evening sun bathed Elysia in a warm glow, casting long shadows across cobblestone streets adorned with vibrant banners and garlands. Glowflakes shimmered in the light, embedded as they were in every surface, and the effect cast a dazzling array of light across the ground.
The air buzzed with excitement, a palpable energy that seemed to infuse every corner of the ancient metropolis. The Tournament of Life was upon them, and the city had transformed into a kaleidoscope of color and sound.
Nora’s eyes darted from shadow to shadow as she navigated the crowded streets of Elysia, her warrior’s instincts on high alert. The press of bodies around her set her nerves on edge, each accidental brush against her arm causing her fingers to twitch towards the sword that was no longer at her hip.
She felt exposed and vulnerable without Wavebreaker’s comforting weight. But more pressing than her own discomfort was the challenge of keeping track of her companion.
That silly siren could not be still.
Evie flitted through the crowd like a hummingbird, her hair catching the light as she darted from one colorful stall to the next. Nora bit back a sigh of frustration as she quickened her pace, her longer strides easily closing the distance between them.
She couldn’t afford to let the siren out of her sight, not with the prickling sensation of unseen eyes following their every move.
“Evie!” Nora called out, exasperation coloring her voice as she reached out to snag the back of her companion’s billowing sleeve. “For the love of the gods, would you please try to stay close? I can’t protect you if you’re halfway across the city.”
The siren turned, her iridescent eyes sparkling with mischief and wonder. “But Nora, look!” She pointed excitedly at a group of street performers juggling balls of multicolored fire. “Have you ever seen anything so marvelous? Do you think they’d teach me how to do that?”
Nora pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting back a smile despite herself. “I think setting you on fire would be a bad idea, even if it is pretty to look at. Now come on, we need to focus. We’re supposed to be looking for—”
“Ooh, what’s that smell?” Evie interrupted, her delicate nose twitching as she caught a whiff of something delicious.
Without waiting for an answer, she darted off towards a nearby food stall, weaving through the crowd with surprising agility.
“Evie!” Nora groaned, shouldering her way past a group of giggling noblewomen to keep up with her charge. “We don’t have time for—oh, sweet mercy, is that roasted cinnamon apples?”
The vendor, a portly man with a bushy mustache and twinkling eyes, grinned at the two women. “Indeed it is, my dears! Fresh from the orchards of Silvergrove, dipped in honey and sprinkled with the finest Elysian cinnamon. Care for a taste?”
Evie was already reaching for one of the glistening treats, but Nora gently caught her wrist. “We really shouldn’t,” she said, though her resolve was wavering in the face of such temptation.
“Oh, come now,” Evie pouted, her lower lip quivering in a way that was entirely too adorable for Nora’s peace of mind. “We’ve been walking for hours, and we’re no closer to finding this Cade Stormhollow fellow. Surely a little snack won’t hurt?”
Nora sighed, reaching for her coin purse.
“Two, please,” she said to the vendor, who beamed and handed over the steaming apples.
As they continued down the street, Nora couldn’t help but smile at the look of pure bliss on Evie’s face as she bit into the treat.
“Now,” Nora said between bites of her own apple. “It might help if we actually had some idea of where to look for this Stormhollow character. You wouldn’t happen to have any brilliant insights on that front, would you?”
Evie shrugged, licking a drop of honey from her finger. “Not really. I just know he’s supposed to be here somewhere. Maybe we should ask around?”
“Oh, brilliant plan,” Nora drawled. “Excuse me, good sir, have you seen a mysterious and powerful mage wandering about? No? How about you, madam? Any all-powerful sorcerers in your soup today?”
Evie giggled, the sound like tinkling bells. “Well, when you put it like that, it does sound a bit silly. But you never know! Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll just fall out of the sky right in front of us.”
As if on cue, a figure came hurtling out of a first-floor window of a nearby tavern, landing in a heap at their feet. Nora instinctively pushed Evie behind her, hand reaching for a sword that was no longer there.
The man groaned, slowly pushing himself to his feet. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a mop of unruly dark hair and a scruffy beard. His clothes were of fine quality, though they were now covered in dust and what looked suspiciously like ale.
“Well,” he said, dusting himself off with as much dignity as he could muster. “That could have gone better.”
Evie peered around Nora’s protective arm, eyes wide. “Are you Cade Stormhollow?” she asked eagerly.
The man blinked, clearly taken aback. “Uh, no. Name’s Brynn. Brynn the Unlucky, at your service.” He gave a theatrical bow, wincing as he straightened up. “Though I suppose today I’m living up to my name a bit more than usual.”
Nora relaxed slightly, though she kept a wary eye on their surroundings. “What happened?” she asked, nodding towards the tavern. “Lover’s quarrel?”
Brynn chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid. Just a friendly disagreement over the finer points of Dwarven ale versus Elven wine. Some people can get quite passionate about their libations.”
“I see,” Nora said dryly. “Well, as fascinating as this has been, we really should be going. Come on, Evie.”
But Evie, predictably, was too distracted by the scraggly newcomer.
“So, you’ve never heard of Cade Stormhollow?” she asked him. “We think he’s supposed to be this incredibly powerful mage, and we need to find him because... well, actually, I’m not entirely sure why we need to find him, but it’s very important!”
Brynn stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Can’t say I have, but if you’re looking for someone who knows their way around the magical circles of Elysia, you might want to try the Mages’ Quarter. It’s just past the Grand Plaza, can’t miss it. All those glowing runes and floating crystals tend to stand out.”
Nora perked up at this, her first real lead since they’d arrived in the city. “Thank you,” she said, genuinely grateful. “That’s actually quite helpful.”
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
“Always happy to assist a pair of lovely ladies,” Brynn said with a wink. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I have some fences to mend. And possibly some tables to replace.”
With another bow, he sauntered back into the tavern, whistling a jaunty tune.
A weary sigh escaped Nora’s lips as she scanned the crowded streets. The city was bursting at the seams with visitors for the tournament, every inn and guesthouse likely packed to capacity. The prospect of finding a safe place to rest for the night seemed to dwindle with each passing moment. She could feel exhaustion tugging at her limbs, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on her shoulders.
“We need to find somewhere to stay,” Nora muttered, more to herself than to Evie.
Nora’s jaw clenched, determination hardening her features. They’d find a place, even if she had to knock on every door in Elysia. She’d made a promise to protect Evie, and she’d be damned if a lack of proper accommodations would be the thing to break it.
As they continued down the bustling street, Nora kept a firm grip on Evie’s sleeve, determined not to lose her again in the ever-growing crowd. The Tournament of Life was going to start any day now, and that drew people from all corners of the realm. Merchants hawked their wares from colorful stalls, and the air filled with the mingled scents of exotic spices and sizzling meats. Street performers of every description vied for attention, from fire-breathers to acrobats to illusionists conjuring shimmering visions of far-off lands.
“Nora, look!” Evie gasped, tugging on her companion’s arm. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Following Evie’s gaze, Nora had to admit that the sight before them was indeed breathtaking. A troupe of elven dancers had taken center stage in a small square, their lithe bodies moving in perfect synchronization as they wove intricate patterns in the air. Ribbons of light trailed from their fingertips, painting the air with swirling colors that seemed to pulse in time with the haunting melody played by unseen musicians.
As they watched, transfixed, Nora became aware of a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. Years of training and hard-won experience had honed her instincts to a razor’s edge, and now those instincts were screaming that something was very wrong.
At first, she saw nothing but the nearby tavern and its weathered wooden sign that swung gently in the evening breeze.
The Twisted Oak.
The sign was covered in faded letters, the image of a gnarled tree etched beneath. The tavern stood like a brooding sentinel amidst the colorful festival decorations, its windows glowing with a dull, amber light that spoke more of danger than warmth.
She felt Evie shift beside her, the siren’s eyes widening with curiosity at the raucous laughter spilling from the open door. Nora’s hand instinctively tightened on Evie’s arm. The last thing they needed was to stumble into a den of cutthroats and ne’er-do-wells, especially with Evie’s penchant for attracting trouble.
Casually, she scanned the crowd, her sharp eyes picking out details that others might miss. There—a hooded figure near the edge of the square, their gaze fixed a little too intently on Evie.
And there—another, partially hidden behind a fruit stand, hand resting oh-so-casually on the hilt of a mostly concealed weapon.
“Evie,” Nora said softly, careful not to let her tension creep into her voice. “I think it’s time we moved on. We still need to find an inn for the night, and I could use a new sword.”
But Evie, entranced by the performance, barely seemed to hear her. “Just a few more minutes,” she pleaded, her eyes never leaving the dancers. “I’ve never seen anything like this before!”
Nora bit back a frustrated growl. She couldn’t exactly drag Evie away without causing a scene, which was the last thing they needed right now. Instead, she shifted her stance slightly, positioning herself between Evie and the majority of the crowd. If trouble was coming—and she was increasingly certain that it was—she wanted to be ready.
As the dance reached its crescendo, the air itself seemed to vibrate with the power of the music, and Nora saw the trap beginning to close. More hooded figures had appeared, forming a loose circle around them. To the casual observer, it might have looked like nothing more than the natural ebb and flow of the crowd, but Nora knew better.
The dance ended in a burst of light and applause, and Evie finally turned away, her face flushed with excitement. “Did you see that? It was like they were painting with starlight! I wonder if—”
“Evie,” Nora cut her off, her voice low and urgent. “We need to leave. Now.”
Something in her tone must have finally gotten through to the siren, because Evie’s smile faltered.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, suddenly alert.
But it was too late. As Nora reached for Evie’s hand, intending to guide her swiftly through the dispersing crowd, a wall of muscle and menace materialized before them. The hooded figures had shed their cloaks, revealing a motley assortment of scarred and brutish warriors, each armed to the teeth.
“We got ten, I’d wager,” one of the men said as he leaned back to glance around the crowd. “Fifteen tops before those soldiers circle back.”
Hmm.
That meant these brutes weren’t scared to cause a scene in the middle of a crowd.
Noted. Maybe she could even use that to her advantage.
“Ladies,” rumbled the largest of the group, a mountain of a man with a face like a badly carved chunk of granite. “I’m afraid you’ll need to come with us. Our employer would very much like a word.”
Nora’s lips curled into a predatory grin, a vicious contrast to the fear evident on Evie’s face.
“Well now,” she said with a chuckle. “That’s just not going to work for us, gents. Step aside, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Look,” he snapped. “We can do this the peaceful way, or the painful one. Your choice, sweetheart.”
Nora’s eyes narrowed in unspoken warning. “Painful sounds fun.”
The big man’s eyebrows rose slightly, clearly not expecting this reaction. “Come quietly, girlie, and no one needs to get hurt.”
Nora stretched her neck a bit, her glare never faltering. “But I like hurting people.”
If she were being honest, this was more of a facade than anything else—or, at least, that was what she kept telling herself.
The dark reality of the shadows rippling through her veins made her smile falter, and she did her best to focus on the impending fight around her.
The tension in the air was palpable. Nora’s muscles tensed, ready to spring into action as she took in the scene before her. The once-crowded square had cleared in an instant, leaving a rough circle of onlookers who watched with a mixture of fear and morbid curiosity. The cobblestones beneath her feet still radiated warmth from the day’s sun, but Nora felt a chill run down her spine as she locked eyes with their would-be captors.
To her left, the abandoned performance stage stood as a silent witness, ribbons of faded light still hanging in the air like ghostly afterimages of the elven dancers’ magic. The sweet scent of spilled wine mingled with the acrid tang of sweat, creating a nauseating cocktail that hung heavy in the air.
With the Twisted Oak tavern behind her, there was no way out but through the gathered throng of thugs. Nora’s gaze flicked from face to face, cataloging threats and weaknesses with the practiced eye of a seasoned warrior. The men before her were a motley crew, their mismatched armor and weapons speaking of mercenary work rather than any organized military force.
But what they lacked in uniformity, they made up for in sheer numbers and brutal intent.
A flicker of movement caught her attention, and Nora’s eyes narrowed as she watched a few of the men produce coils of rope from their belts. A humorless smile tugged at the corner of Nora’s mouth as she considered the absurdity of the situation.
“You’re going to need more than that to stop me, boys,” she said, her voice carrying a dangerous edge that belied the lightness of her words.
The fading sunlight glinted off blade and armor alike as the men exchanged uneasy glances. Even without her armor or Wavebreaker at her side, she knew she was still an imposing figure. Her eyes, hard as steel and just as unforgiving, dared them to make the first move.
With a growl of frustration, six of the men pulled out additional lengths of rope. The sight might have been comical if the situation weren’t so dire. It almost looked as though they’d raided a ship’s supply of rigging in preparation for this encounter.
Nora’s smile faltered slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face before she masked it with her usual bravado.
“Huh,” she said, her voice dripping with false nonchalance. “Well, alright, that might actually be enough rope.”
As she spoke, Nora shifted her stance ever so slightly, angling her body to keep Evie shielded behind her. She could feel the siren trembling.
“It’s going to be okay, Birdie,” she whispered to her friend.
As the words left her lips, Nora tensed, ready for the inevitable onslaught. The air crackled with anticipation, like the moment before a lightning strike.
She knew that in mere seconds, this uneasy standoff would erupt into chaos. Her mind raced, formulating and discarding plans of attack and escape with dizzying speed. The odds of getting out of this weren’t great, but she had survived worse.
Besides, she had been through hell these past few days, and she really needed to let off some steam.
What's your favorite part of the girls' tourist experience thus far?
