The Last Goddess

Chapter Four: A Casual Smile

Samara

The stranger looked around, searching for the imaginary person he thought I was talking to. When he was satisfied that my uncompromising gaze was strictly focused on him, he gave me a crooked smile, pushing his plate of fries between us. "Why not?" he shrugged, seeming to loosen up. "At leasst sssomething good is happening today."

"Oh no," I feigned concern as I took another delicious fry off his plate. "Are you having a bad day..." I giggled. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what to call you, and here I am stealing your food. How terribly impolite of me."

The tension in his shoulders eased more. "It'ss fine. I'm Ewan. I ssshould be thanking you for sssstealing my friess. I didn't really want to be alone. Ah, but who are you?"

Before giving my name, I saw a slight shimmer over his person that made me take a closer look. I leaned in a little, examining his true form. His skin turned pale and scaly. His eyes slits with beady black dots. His mouth was filled with lethally sharp teeth that didn't seem to match his docile nature—not that it meant he didn't know how to use them. In a way, he looked like a humanoid snake.

A glamour. I tried to hide my frown and prepared myself for any potential attack.

Sometimes, the visions don't allow me to see the glamour of those who are in them. More often than not, I've been surprised by victims and perpetrators alike in their true form, but despite this discovery, my objective was the same.

"Samara," The corners of my lips curled up, and he returned my gesture with a very malevolent looking grin—now that I could see his teeth, that is. "Why don't you tell me about it? I'm a really good problem-solver."

He looked down at his beer, shame overcoming him. "I—I wass not a good friend today..."

"Oh," I ate one last fry, deciding to speed things up at the risk of the man attacking me—after my last vision of the prisoner, I couldn't tell how much longer he would hold out, or for that matter, how much longer I could hold out watching him suffer. "I imagine you're right."

Ewan choked on a fry, seemingly taken aback by my comment. "What?"

"You betrayed your friend, isn't that correct?" I watched him carefully. He was just about ready to run or fight—which he would choose, I could not tell yet. When he didn't move, I kept whispering, taking the chance of leaning closer to his face. "You left him to be tortured. That wasn't very nice. Well, I guess the soup you gave him was a kind gesture—there must still be some decency in you to offer that much."

"W-who are you really?" he was getting ready to run, his feet planted squarely on the floor while his hands were on the edge of the bar, prepared to push off in a moment's notice. "How do you know all thisss?"

I tried not to show my hesitation as I placed my hand over his, my eyes staring into his beady ones. "I'm just a person that wants to help your friend. But I can't do that without you."

"W-what do you want?" his eyes were shifting, paranoia setting in. I sensed he would begin to resist me soon. "How do you even know Aryan?"

"Aryan..." his name felt right on my tongue, and I smiled down towards the bar, happy to have a name to the face. "I don't know him, but all that matters is that I'm going to rescue him. But in order to do that, I need to know his location. Where is... Aryan?"

Ewan looked at me like I was crazy. He looked at me with fear. "I-if I tell you, will you leave me alone?"

I didn't answer him, but he didn't wait for my response.

"He'sss in..." he looked around, standing up before he said, "Ssssoren's fortress."

"Soren?" I looked at him, puzzled. It wasn't a name that was familiar, but something in me put that name to the face of that boyish captor of Aryan's. "Who's that?"

Ewan made a wild face at me, trying to take a step back. "Thiss is ssssome sssort of trap. There'ss no way you know about what'sss happening with Aryan and not know who Sssoren iss." His beady eyes widened to the point where he didn't appear to have any eyelids. "Y-you... he sssssent you, didn't he? Sssent you to ssssssee if I would talk..."

He tried to pull away, but I put my hand on his shoulder. This simple act scared him frozen. "I am not with Soren, I assure you. I just want to help Aryan. They're killing him. Slowly. Can you really stand to know that you delivered your friend to that fate?"

He shook his head anxiously, appearing to have trouble breathing.

"Good." I nodded, releasing my hand from his shoulder. "So, you'll help me then."

"H-help you how?"

"How do I get to Soren's fortress?"

Ewan looked ready to cry—he truly was a very vulnerable snake-man. "You have to go through the Veil."

The Veil? My face couldn't help but show my bewilderment. What is he talking about? What's the Veil? And for that matter, where is it? I sighed, a little frustrated that the information he was giving me was yet another mystery to solve. I have no choice.

"Ewan," he cringed at the sound of his name. "You will take me to find Aryan."

"No!" he hissed at me. "There'sss no way I'm going to do that. You can't make me."

I looked Ewan straight in the eyes, a casual smile rolling off my lips. "Please?"