Afraid of the Dark

Chapter 27: His Name

As the sun begins to set over Manatria to paint the sky with an orange glow that sets the Maanitel Sea ablaze with fire in the ripples, the silence of the peaceful streets is disrupted with the rumbling of an engine.

The motorcycle pulls to a stop outside of the quaint tavern at the corner of the brick-paved street. The city of Denkile is far calmer than anticipated considering with Mala'vin rebuilding and Old Cresthill still nothing but ruins, this is pretty much the only stable city in Manatria.

Cree clicks the engine off and parks the bike before sliding off the side and pulling off his full-face black helmet that he tucks under his arm as he turns to look at the tavern door, then down at the screen of his phone.

As he's reading, he doesn't even lift his head as Achilles swoops down and perches on his shoulder.

"Ready to socialize again?" the hawk asks. Even after ten years since John died, it still feels fucking weird to hear his voice in his head as telepathically communicated through a synthetic bird. "Trick question, I think I should do the talking this time. Don't want a repeat of the last place we checked."

Cree shrugs and flips his phone shut as he starts walking to the door. "I think I handled it pretty well."

"That man's knees probably shouldn't have bent that way, but you do you man, I ain't judgin'."

Cree keeps his stonewalled expression as he enters the small tavern and spares the room only a quick glance before heading straight for the bar where there's a young Half-Adaliaen woman filling a flagon from a keg.

He leans forward on the counter as a patron steps up beside him, taking the flagon from the girl and handing over a couple numis before returning to his seat. Achilles hops down from his shoulder to perch on the counter beside him.

The girl lets out a small, exhausted sigh and leans against the counter across from Cree, and she meets his eyes for a second before they dart to the great black hawk casually sitting next to him looking ready to pull bitches.

"I'd say I'm surprised, but last week a woman came in with her donkey," the girl chuckles and looks at Cree again. "Can I get you somethin'?" she asks with a friendly smile. Cree glances back over his shoulder to check the room once more, and at seeing nothing suspicious, he turns his focus back onto the girl with a slow nod.

"I'll take a scotch," he says and the woman nods before turning around to start searching for a bottle. As she's getting his drink, he continues to his scripted line of questioning. "And... Do you happen to know of anyone by the name 'Evelina Mar'Cedric'? I heard she's a healer," he asks. He figures it's probably best to hold off on explaining more than that until after she tells him what she does or doesn't know. Though, the last tavern he checked was bartended by a hardass prick who not only refused to answer any of Cree's questions, but did so with a number of snide underhanded remarks regarding 'Ophelia's Descendant.' So, naturally, he broke his knees.

But this girl seems friendly, innocent, and possibly a bit naïve just based on her overall demeanor. Cree's gotten pretty good at reading people over the years, and his gut tells him this girl is harmless so he should probably come off as friendlier so as to not scare her away.

The girl turns back around and sets the bottle in front of him and he automatically hands over a couple numis and takes a drink as she tilts her head. "Sorry, I can't say that I have. There's lots of healers around, though, if you need some kind of help," she says with a hopeful smile that fades when Cree sighs and looks down, shaking his head.

"No... They won't have the kind of help I need," he states and side-eyes Achilles, wordlessly telling him to watch his back. Glancing around the room too often makes it look like he's hiding something. Granted, having a bigass bird as his drinking buddy doesn't look much better, but luckily synthetic animals have yet to really reach this side of the world. Unlikely anyone would suspect the bird has full sentience and the personality of a cocksure mayoral junkie that Cree still considers his brother.