Shade

Welcome Home

Looking up at it now, it seemed twistedly strange in person than she’d remembered. The city was – as always – hues of reds and golds and white gleaming and nearly pristine. The winter moon was high – a small white disc radiating light and washing out stars as it painted the world beneath in shades of white and greys.

She hadn’t been here in here in years. Fingers found the knotted scar on her shoulder, rubbing at it idly as she stared up at the gates into the city of her childhood. Sharp teeth found plump flesh as she nibbled her bottom lip in uncertainty.

Her ear flicked at the hiss echoing in her ear, her hand lifting from her shoulder to the pendant at her throat, the small orb filled with swirling mist. She was no coward. Her last clear memory of the city was of a night like this, but this time – the shadows wouldn’t jump at her and drag her away. This time they feared her.

Straightening her spine and holding her head high, she entered Silvermoon and headed along the twisted back streets to her old apartment.

The key worked, even if it shrieked from disuse. The hinges groaned as the door swung inward. Silversage colored eyes swept the shadows briefly before stepping in and shutting the door behind her.

Moonlight spilled in through an open window on an arrow pinning a note to the table. She frowned.

She didn’t touch it even when she recognized the fletching as belonging to a friend. The note was simple and scrawled, and the chuckle spilled out of her unwillingly.

Shade looked around, noting that it had indeed been dusted and the must of disuse was gone from the airing out. She would need to shop tomorrow for food she mused as she dropped her bag on the table and went to the open window and hopped out of it onto the creaky awning. Perching on a heavy wood rail, she leaned back and looked out over the Row.

The denizens of the place were loitering around brazier or in shadows or on stoops with open doors. The low din of chatter and laughter and brawling, the smell of smoke and drugs and booze. It was all familiar. Like coming home.

It was like she’d never left. There was peace in that.