In the Mirror II
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In any other city, seeing a house like this would have been odd. The windows were set with large panes of finest Myrish glass, which should have been worth a fortune in of themselves, but to the second sight, there was also the faint remnants of an enchantment that clung to them. Something that wasn't quite illusion and not quit evocation, though she couldn't decipher any more then that from the faint wisps that remained. It was frivolous in it's decadence to layer spell-craft on windows larger then the already opulent door of the house, making it hard to believe that this had never been the home of some noble or rich merchant, but a tavern of all things.
Mind, the sight was also odd here in the Deep, yet for an entirely different reason. The glass was grimy and dusty, the house looking abandoned and as if no one had set foot in it for a while. In a city that had to raise new houses by magic each and every day to stem the tide of people wanting to live in it, the idea of a property being simply abandoned was more then odd. She had asked one of her minders about that in her first week, once she herself had noticed that the place stood out like a sore thumb. It seemed strange to her that they would hide one of theirs in a place so obviously odd, though the response she got was even more so.
For one, she actually got one. She had quickly learned that people with crow masks and Book and Sword brooches were much better at asking questions then answering them, so that was a pleasant surprise, even if the tale of the house itself was nothing all that interesting. The former owner of the tavern had apparently been breaking quite a few laws and wound up dead in some plot. Which resulted in the place becoming owned by the Inquistion after a few steps in between. However, when that became public knowledge, all former patrons began avoiding the tavern like a plague house and so it was shut down until they could either find a use for it or decided to sell it. And they found a use, which was rather close to being a plague house too.
When she first had come here, she had not used the front door, instead being dropped right into the dusty main room by magic. It all had gone so fast, leaving her no chance at all to find her balance in the storm of events that her bargain caused. When she looked back at it, that seemed rather deliberate. Why else the haste? Why show her what she saw then? They had tried to cow her and as much as she hated to admit it even in the privacy of her thoughts, it had worked. In the first week, she barely dared to leave her room, always worrying what the tiniest misstep might cost her.
It had not gotten much better since then. Sure, she had found the courage to leave her house now, but she was still afraid. Still watching for the watchers. Still doubting and second-guessing every step she made. It did not help that they truly seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time, always being there to catch her when she made a mistake. It probably was a mistake that she had come here. There was no good reason for Neira to be here at all. Neira should have bought some food on the market, returned home to her small but nice rooms, cooked dinner for herself and then went to bed like a good little peasant girl. In her opinion though, Neira could go and rot in a ditch.
And maybe she would. There was no telling how they would react to her being here. There was no telling how the monster was going to take it either, but she had nowhere else to go and nobody else to talk to. And for some reason, it didn't nearly bother her as much as it should that she would talk with whatever the kind of creature that laired her was called. She had come out unscathed once and so did others. Her heart was still heavy when she knocked on the door. It was not fear, no matter how much a small part of her mind was telling her she should be afraid. No. It was dread at the faint bit of kinship she felt with the other woman, though she couldn't recognize the feeling as such.
As the door began to slowly open, she plastered a pleasant smile on Neira's face, hiding her thoughts and feelings with practiced ease. Opposite her stood a middle aged man in a healers garb, clearly surprised to have someone knock on the door. "Good evening. May I help you with something?"
She calmly made half a step forward, putting her foot on the threshold. The healer seemed annoyed by it, but she wouldn't be turned away now. If someone was here at all, then so was the lady of the house. And that meant she would get the answer to the question tumbling through her mind. Just one more moment. One more chat as the peasant girl. "Good evening good sir," she said while nodding deeply in an approximation of a bow. "I was wondering if the Lady Marita had a moment of time for me?"
AN: A bit of transition mostly, but that felt like a good moment to cut that particular scene.