The Last Whisperer

12 | Hospitality And Hostility~

It was raining hard that night when Seren took cover under the roof of an inn. Streets were deserted as windows and doors were shut. Children playing on the streets were swiftly pulled in by their parents to their homes.

Seren's red hair was drenched. Her clothes were soaked and stuck to her skin. The insides of her boots squelched with water whenever she took a step.

"It would be nice if Ahki helped me dry up," Seren mumbled to herself. "But he doesn't like anyone."

Ahki was the name of the water elemental spirit—one that took form of a snake dragon. None of the four elemental spirits liked Seren except for Kamir, so all she had was the power of the wind on her side. She even had to ask Kamir to talk to them for her, but she hasn't heard back from him since.

I'm going to die from freezing. For the second time.

She used to think it was impossible to die twice, but here she was, a living embodiment.

She sat on the stairs to the door of the inn. She had no food, no money, no shelter, and no one to complain to. All she had was herself and that was the last person she wanted to be alone with.

Astra, what would you do? Where do I even start?

The door behind her suddenly opened and she fell backwards. The back of her head hit the ground. "Ow!"

"A girl? What are you doing outside of our inn? We're closed. Shoo!" shooed an elderly man with a large gut. He wore a pair of grey underpants and wore no shirt, which weirded Seren out. She automatically got up from the floor.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I was just borrowing your roof. I'll get going now." She turned away from him. I guess I'll shelter somewhere else.

"Poch, what are you doing with the door open? Who is it?" an elderly woman's voice spoke.

"Some girl was getting cozy on our porch."

"A girl?" A gasp.

Seren turned around. She immediately stiffened at the sight of who it was. "You!" she said accusingly.

It was the woman from the Emporium—the one that insisted on eating her rice balls then left her to die on the hands of bloodthirsty merchants. The woman seemed to recognize her as well. "Oh," the woman drawled. "You're the girl from earlier."

The man with the large gut seemed bamboozled with their interaction. "You two know each other?"

"No," Seren said at the same time the woman said, "Yes, we do."

"Come in, girl," the woman told Seren.

Seren stayed where she was, hands on defensive mode in front of her. "What are you trying to do? Frame me again?"

"I'm inviting you in, girl. Hurry up before I changed my mind." The woman went inside without waiting for an answer.

The man with the large gut shrugged a shoulder. "Well? You getting in? It isn't everyday that my wife gets compassionate to beggars."

"I'm not a beggar," Seren mumbled, although she was starting to lose confidence because she really did look like a dirty urchin. "I'll leave my boots outside."

"Don't bother. You can leave them in here by the door. Wouldn't want them missing by tomorrow—though I don't think anyone's stealing the crap you wear anyway." He cackled.

These aren't even mine. Seren's eye twitched in annoyance as she marched inside, boots squelching and everything.

Poch, the elderly man with the large gut, shut the door with a loud bang and did the locks. "Just leave them here."