"So that guy from earlier in the bar. The one with the short brown hair is your best friend?" Layla asked, taking another heavy drink from the bottle. Her hazel eyes caught the moonlight when she looked at me, brown hair tied up in a messy bun that resembled the color of autumn leaves. Beautiful.
I felt my face getting hot. Embarrassed, I took the bottle from her to take my mind off her.
"Um yeah, me and Valor go way back to when Riverdale was under Eratiell's control. I was 8, he was 9. Together we'd prank people, pull jobs and cause trouble." I sat back taking a quick swig.
"Having a close friend like that sounds nice. I grew up in the slum quarter of Eratiell. From what I remember…it was nice. Not nice as in luxury but nice as in comfortable." She leaned back, her head hitting the wall.
"Sorry I blamed you for Rellen's death. Dormin's right, he was dead before any of us could react." Her eyes welled up, voice cracking. She grabbed a necklace hidden in her shirt and held it close.
"You never met him but he was everything. He rescued me from being sold as a slave and helped me get into the Society. Trained me to use a bow. I would be a server or something for some fat noble in Eratiell if not for him. I owe him my life and never got to pay it back." Tears ran down her face. "I'm sorry," Layla said as she buried her face in her hands.
I put my head down. I'd heard of the slave trade in Eratiell. The grotesque conditions, abusive owners. I had been lucky to not be born into it. Although my living situation wasn't far from it.
What should I do? Do…I…comfort her.
I slid my arm around her slowly, pulling her closer. Being elbowed for touching her doesn't sound appealing. She leaned into my arm sniffling, wiped her eyes, then took the bottle out of my hand and downed the rest of it. She got to her feet.
"Let's go back inside and get Dormin. Damian probably has him drunk enough to not see straight." I stood and stumbled, almost falling back, when she caught me by the arm and pulled me into her.
"Don't fall," she said quietly.
The door swung shut behind us.
● ● ●
"So, what do you think of our new recruit?" Damian cut into the silence. The smoke from his cigarette hung heavy between them. Dormin took a drink and leaned back, exhaling deeply.
"He shows promise. The few times I've seen him use magick, it has the potential to be an assassin-defining trait. His use with a sword is sloppy but nothing that can't be improved. For the most part he's quick to think on his feet. But…he's reckless. He lets his emotions and view on the world get in the way of the job. Without a serious turnaround, he won't last," he said, taking Damian's tin pack of cigarettes and lighting one for himself, breathing out the smoke effortlessly.
"I see. So if I were to send him on a solo mission to Draznkal, do you think he would survive?"
"Draznkal? That's a Grade two and above qualification area only. Why in the world would you send him there?" He said taking another drink.
"Trust the process Dormin, it's for the good of the Society. Remember, it's my job to turn these soft boys into assassins. All these boys come from all over trying to become some badass assassin, but fail to realize it takes sacrifice and sheer commitment it takes to be a meaningful part of this organization." Damian's voice raised a bit, his hand coming down hard on the table.
"It's taken me the better part of 25 years to even become relevant." He said harder, something in his voice hit differently that time.
"I understand that…but Oren can barely use magick, he can barely hold a sword. And you plan on sending him there?"
Before Damian could respond he looked toward the tavern door. Layla was making her way back to the booth, me trailing behind her.
"Hey Dormin. You ready to go?" She grabbed her jacket.
Damian looked at Dormin. One look. "I have some things to sort out. I'll see you guys tomorrow," Dormin replied, taking another drag.
"Oren, wanna walk me home?" I stuttered at the invitation. Dormin smiled and Damian laughed.
"Be a gentleman and walk her home, Oren. That's an order."
"See you tomorrow. Be up early, we have training to do," Dormin hollered as me and Layla walked out into the night. The brisk breeze coming off the Riverdale harbor made Layla shiver.
"So, is Dormin always so optimistic? Or is he putting it on for me?" I asked as we walked the cobbled path back to Stonehaven. Even with just the two of us, people still looked down or away as we passed.
"He's always been…Dormin. Weirdly nice but dangerous when it comes down to it. It's funny because Rellen helped me into the Society and Dormin helped him in. He's always put others' needs before his own," Layla said as we walked past the Stonehaven gates, the Society headquarters ahead.
My head swarmed with thoughts. She was already walking close to me.
"So what made you change your mind about me?" I asked nervously. Two days ago she had an arrow at my throat. Today she wants me to walk her home.
"I still don't like you, but between you and Dormin, I'd rather talk to you than hear Dormin preach to me," she said, stumbling slightly, the town quiet around us.
The Society's gates stood tall before us. Layla walked up to the lock and looked back at me.
"Watch carefully." She pressed her hand against it and said words I couldn't understand. The giant doors shifted and ground against themselves as they opened.
"This place just gets weirder by the day," I said as we walked inside. Nothing had changed except a letter on the stand by the door.
"Thanks for that. I needed to blow off some steam…so thanks for being a listening ear," she said, giving me a quick hug before striding away to her room. My face went red.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight. Sweet dreams…" I said, then headed to my room and flopped down on the bed.
Finally. Some actual time to process things.
My mind moved through the past week. My father. The mission. The Silvermoon Inn.
Sadness hit when I thought of him. Briefly. It was getting easier, despite it barely being a week.
"I can do this," I said to myself, my eyes closing as sleep took hold.