Matty awoke to the sound of prayer and pleasant humming. He felt light-headed and stiff with heavy eyes and dry lips, turning with languid movements from back to front to a familiar sight. He must have collapsed, again. Three times this month, he thought he might be overexerting himself. The sentry had brought him to the healers' temple, a tad bit creepy, candle-lit place garnished with herbs, spices, and flowers. It also reeked of incense, the smell that always tickled his nostrils.
He no longer felt that sharp, throbbing pain in the palm of his hand. His chest fell and rose regularly, strength had returned to him, but he still felt tired. He wondered what time it was and how long he was asleep. The vast room had no windows, just an iron-wrought double-door. The walls were made of stone and the ceiling was supported by an array of garlanded columns while a pool of clear blue water rested in the middle. At each corner was a small garden while the bed rests were scattered about, it was where the healers treated the wounded.
The healers were, according to many, weird, reserved people who prided themselves on being selfless. To Matty, they were just a bunch of esoteric philosophical theorists, preaching about the importance of remaining sinless and neutral. As such, they were very much prone to being judgmental asses, but when called out for it, they would pray ten times at dusk and ten times at dawn to cleanse their soul... and then be judgmental asses again.
Matty strolled out of the temple without being seen. On his way to the lodging quarters, he found out he had been asleep for a day and a half. It was early in the morning, an overcast day, slightly chilly with a chance of rain - at least according to the weather forecast plastered on walls in the hallways. He quickened his pace and soon found himself in his room desperate for a shower and a change of clothes. He hurried to the common shower rooms with a towel over his shoulder and a fresh pair of undies, pants, and a shirt. There were few people there early in the mornings, so he hoped he wouldn't run into anyone he knew. He didn't like being exposed, butt-naked in front of people, and he supposed Theo hadn't liked that stunt from the other day either. The very thought made him chuckle. He wondered what the wolf was up to, whether he paid him a visit, although he then wondered why he would do that. They were both easily replaceable, although the idea made him a bit uneasy.
He stepped into the shower rooms, occupying the very last cubicle. The water was steaming hot, it made him groan in pleasure and relieved the stiffness. Then he thought of the mission, amazed at himself for pulling it off and also happy that they would get paid, if they hadn't been already. He almost slipped when he heard someone coming in. He cast a curious glance their way but it was someone unfamiliar. Luckily, steam prevented any vital parts from being seen. He finished quickly, dried himself and put on his clothes. He towel-dried his hair as much as he could, and with a damp head, went straight to the information desk to inquire about the bounty reward.
He was surprised to see his account balance so low. How was it possible their payment hadn't come through yet? When he tried to ask the clerk about it, she suggested he wait a day or two. Such things happened, she explained. A light grunt escaped his lips and, folding his arms on his chest, he strode over to the mission board. He grabbed a few pamphlets and made his way to the library.
The library wasn't as empty as the shower room. He spied a witch coven congregating at the back, practicing some magic it seemed, and a few others, vampires and werewolves alike, asleep at their desks. He wanted to take out a book on levitation spells, as he had mentally noted, but the book was for library reading only. He sat down with the book with the intention of copying some spells when a witch approached him.
He was a lanky man, perhaps younger than Matty, though Matty never bothered to ask, with mismatched eyes, one green and one brown. His name was Jordan... or Jake... or Johnny? Matty couldn't remember. The man greeted him with a casual nod and sat across him.
"So, have you thought it over?" he asked, plastering a big, white-toothed grin on his face. Matty was puzzled, eyes narrowed into slits.
"Thought what over?" The man pulled out a piece of paper and put it in front of Matty.
"Don't tell me you forgot!" he spoke cheerily, in a rather annoying tone of voice, adding, "we asked you to join our coven, still waiting for an answer." Oh. Ooooh. It dawned on him then.
"Right." Matty cleared his throat, and said bluntly, "I don't do covens." That wasn't quite true. He was an ancestral witch, part of his family's coven by birth and for life although exiled. He couldn't switch even if he wanted to. "Too much teenage drama," he added.
"Witches don't survive long without a coven, you know," The man said, a slight hint of warning in his voice as his face became stern. Matty was unfazed, though.
"I don't plan on living past forty anyway," Matty's snappy one-liner earned him an eye-roll. The man stood up and walked away, speaking in undertones. Matty pretended not to hear him. He went back to copying the spells on the back of the pamphlets when he noticed an oddly simple mission. The pamphlet was a bit worn and crumpled but the reward was appealing. Delivery missions were rare because they were first come first serve. Perhaps they were lucky. The item to be delivered was a wooden box but the place of delivery was far in the mountains. He quickly rummaged through the rest of the pamphlets without noticing the date printed in fine letters at the bottom of the delivery mission paper... it was dated to ten years ago today. Regardless, he decided to pitch that idea to Theo but he was reluctant to go see him.
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