Brutus walked through the warped door, and the world softened.
The reek of blood and rust of the outside was immediately pushed back by the warm smell of old wood, and the trace of burning oil from lanterns burning on the wall.
The interior of the Blue Fish Inn was small, too small for a city of this size.
A handful of round tables and mismatched chairs were scattered randomly across the wooden floor.
Brutus let himself breathe for the first time in minutes.
"You're bleeding on my floor," The Innkeeper said casually.
Brutus blinked. "Right... sorry."
She walked behind the bar. "Don't be." She squatted down. "Sit. I'll help stop the bleeding."
Brutus promptly sat on a nearby chair. "...Thank you."
"Uh-huh," Came from behind the bar, accompanied by rummaging sounds.
She came up from behind the bar holding a small metal box, and walked over to Brutus sitting. Her steps are slow and determined.
She held out her hand. "Arm."
She took hold of his arm and took a needle with thread out of the box. "This might hurt." She said while the needle itched closer to his skin.
Then it stabbed into his skin, and again and again. Each puncture made him tense his jaw tighter and tighter.
His eyes turned to look at the ivory-haired woman, whose hair slipped down from her head to mid-way down her back in a thick braid.
Her moon grey eyes were beaming at the cut on Brutus's arm, as if it were her who had the wound.
"Got something to say?" She piped up between stitches.
Brutus flinched lightly. "Uh... Well, I guess I wanted to know who you were?"
She tugged on the needle, tightening a single stitch she made, "I'm the owner of the Blue Fish Inn, like I said."
He blinked. "Maybe more specific?"
She grinned, "Well, if you insist. I'm Gloria."
The warm air in the inn seemed to freeze.
"Gloria Valerond."
Brutus's eyes widened, and he jumped out of his seat. "What...?"
She sighed, "Relax, Brutus. Sit down."
His hand itched for his sword, "You... how do you know my name?" He tensed.
She rubbed her temples. "Can you just calm down?" She sighed, "You're dripping more blood on my floor."
Brutus's breathing hitched. "I... Don't care," His knees began to wobble. "How... my name."
His body began to drop, but was caught by Gloria.
"So bothersome." She groaned.
She set him down on the chair again, with him mumbling indistinguishable threats.
...
Brutus slowly opened his eyes, feeling his back pressed against something soft.
His head darted around, seeing out the window that it was still dark, the walls flickered with warm orange light from a fireplace situated in front of his bed, casting a deep shadow on the wall behind him.
He slowly turned to his right to see Gloria silently watching, her grey eyes piercing through Brutus.
He tried to jolt his body up again, but his stinging back halted his movement.
"Can you just relax?" she sighed.
Brutus glared at her. "How is someone supposed to stay calm in a situation like this?"
She leaned back in the chair. "Well, if you think about it, if I wanted you dead, Brutus."
He flinched at the mention of his name.
"Wouldn't it have been very easy to kill you when you dropped unconscious?"
He swallowed, simmering on the truth of her words. "Ok... that may be true, but I still don't trust you."
She scratched her neck, "Well, I did fix your arm and back up, so at least show some gratitude."
He clenched his jaw. "Thank you."
She smiled, "You're welcome, Brutus!"
He furrowed his brows. "Now. How do you know about me?"
She yawned, "I just heard about you by chance."
"Bullshit." He barked. "The truth."
She sighed, "Fine." She rubbed her face, "I'll tell you the truth."
He gazed at her, a moment passing. "Well? What is it?"
She dropped her arms to her lap, "Well... to be honest, you're very well known in my family."
Brutus swallowed dryly. "Why?"
"Because you're Seraphina's, no?"
"What do you mean? Who's Seraphina?" He growled.
Gloria blinked. "Do... you seriously not remember who your own mother is?"
"My... Mother-?"
Brutus yelped; a skull-splitting pain shot through his head.
An angered growl spilt out between his clenched teeth.
"What... is... going on?!" He barked between groans.
Gloria gazed at the writhing Brutus knowingly. "I see... so that's what he's done to him."
The throbbing pain in his head increased with each pulse. "Shut up and help me!" He snarled.
The last thing Brutus saw before passing out was the orange flicker on the walls, being overwhelmed by a beautiful green glow that emanated from Gloria's hands.
...
Brutus's eyes snapped open once again. Feeling oddly rested.
Out the window, he saw a pale blue sky with white clouds, the walls no longer danced orange, only grey and black ashes piling in the fireplace.
Brutus sighed, letting his head drop to the soft pillow, feeling it hug the back of his head.
And with a strained grunt, he curled his body upward to a sit.
He had expected the same sharp sting in his back to shoot through him, but he barely felt anything as he got up.
He looked at the slash that he had on his arm, seeing bright pink skin coming up from under the already-falling-off scab.
"That's... not possible though."
It seemed that Brutus's wounds had healed quick—too quick, impossibly fast even.
'Maybe it's got something with that green glow I saw after...'
But the next thought had slipped out of his mind.
'Huh? What was I thinking about again?'
Shrugging, Brutus climbed out of the soft bed and exited the room, seeing a long hallway stretch down to his right, with a staircase waiting at the end.
He walked down the hallway and down the staircase at its end.
Stepping off the last step to the main dining room of the inn, the smell of grilled meat slipped into his nostrils.
Making him swallow expectantly.
Gloria walked out of a door behind the bar and set a plate of grilled pork down on it.
Her head whipped to Brutus. "Oh! You're up!"
Brutus eyed the food. "Yeah..."
She grinned, "Well? What's the holdup? Dig in."
Brutus sat down on a stool and began wolfing down the perfectly grilled and juicy pork.
In no time at all, he finished the plate. He looked at the now-empty and greasy plate with slight regret.
A second plate slid its way over to his arm, topped full with more grilled pork.
He greedily devoured another two plates before finally being sated.
The four oiled plates were stacked neatly in front of him.
And for a moment, there was only the smell of grilled pork and coals bridging the gap between Gloria and Brutus.
He every so often darted his eyes at her, not sure whether to trust her or despise her.
Warm sunlight cast rays that seeped through the clapboard construction.
He looked at the roughly nailed planks of wood. "What's a legacy like you running such a ramshackle inn?"
She gazed forward, almost through the small gaps in the wood. "Well... put simply, I was excommunicated from Valerond."
Brutus swallowed. "Excommunicated?"
She glanced at him. "Exiled. Kicked out. Forgotten about..."
He saw her masseter tighten.
He gazed at the pale wooden bar he sat at. "Why?"
She circled a nail on the wooden bar.
"Because." She paused. "I tried to protect something impossible to protect."
Brutus looked at her moon grey eyes, shake. "Who?"
She gazed back at him. "Seraphina."
The name hit him like a hammer.
It felt like a name forcefully ripped out of his mind.
A sharp, invasive pain stabbed through his skull.
Brutus clutched his temples. Breath getting caught in his throat.
"Who... Who is that?"