Through the Living Hope

"Easily. Please wait here a moment." He went up the stairs and unlocked the door to the small room. Jolane looked up from where she sat on the floor mat. This was unusual. The owner, Robert, said in that other tongue, "Get a room ready for a guest. Food's being cooked, bring it and a glass of water to the room when it's done." She nodded and rose to her feet. At least this would make her think of things other than her thoughts. She moved and started prepping a room around the middle of the hall. Robert came back down the stairs and grabbed a key for the room. He turned to Ma'tani. "If you'll follow me."

Her mouth tightened, but she nodded.

“It’ll be ten schlaff per night,” the owner said, which was a decent price.

She sidestepped the hole. How had that gotten there?

After reading it, she hid it again. He had entrusted it to her, but there was not much she could do. She’d heard the announcement of his execution, and though she did not know him, it was devastating to her. Of course she was. Why would someone be there for her? ”He was just downstairs,” she said. Behind the locked door, her head hung. No, no one really noticed her. Why would they.

She stepped in hesitantly.

Jolane jumped. “Hello?”

Strangely, there were no workers in sight. Moments later, a man - presumably the owner of the tavern - was shoving a man through the door, followed by a crowd carrying torches. The man’s paper, however, was safe with the girl upstairs. @WildRye ~~~ The owner had locked the door. Every night, he put her in her room and locked the door. Once in, there was no way for her to get out. Jolane sighed, watching the torches through her tiny window, circled around the man who’d given her the paper.

He handed it over, along with a list of magic advisors and a room key, and snapped them back to the lobby. “From here, go up until you see the inverted stairs, take a left at the fire hydrant, and your room is the ten-and-three-fifths room on the right.”

She said nothing, but after a few moments frozen she put it down the front of her dress.

It was in the corner of the upper floor. Jolane’s room, if you could call it that. She had a feeling that it used to be a broom closet. It was all the space the tavern owner would let her occupy. A mat covered the floor. It was supposed to make it more comfortable, in theory. It only barely did so. A stuffed toy of some kind rested on the mat. She didn’t know what animal it was. The owner didn’t see it as important, and thus never told her. Apart from the outfit she now wore, she only had two others - one she wore alternating days with the current one, and one she wore to sleep. Anything more than that would, in the owner’s words, be too costly. There were only two ways for the room to get light. A candle and matches she’d bought with tips - the half the owner allowed her to keep, anyway - and a small window. Really, it was more a hole in the wall with a thin sheet of glass to stop the bugs from getting in. Looking through the window, she saw one of that night’s patrons sitting on a rock. Free to leave when he wanted with nothing tethering him back. With no one who would bring him back. She pulled up her sleeve and sighed. That couldn’t be the case for her. Just one look at that arm, and they would take her back here. That mark was known. After all, it was the logo of the most popular tavern in the village. She took one last, wistful look at him out the window. No, he wouldn’t notice. No one noticed. She was too menial, too small for notice.

“I’d recommend visiting with a magic advisor. There are some very knowledgeable people here who can help you.”

“Hey there. How ya holding up?” 25 asked. Her voice sounded almost identical to another voice he knew…

He takes it and looks intently at it, rotating it in his hand every so often.

Aventine stood and went to her room to check on Lukas.

The tavern owner called in another tongue, and Jolane turned and came to him. He pushed her up the stairs and around the corner. She got one slight glimpse of the room, the mob and the evacuating man, before they left her line of sight entirely.

“The mark on his neck,” she muttered, “it was on them, too.”

Trevor’s eyebrows furrowed.

She stepped slightly backwards and didn’t make eye contact with him.

Trevor placed his hand on Veer’s head and searched for the memory where his powers were tampered with.

Trevor nodded and snapped his fingers, taking the two of them to a room with padded walls and a very squishy carpet.

He nodded. “Yes, I did.” He stepped around the desk and raised a hand close to but not on Veer’s head. “May I?”

Jolane stopped at his table. “Can I get you anything, sir?” She looked a little too young to be working in a tavern.