Page 2 of Marked

The village of SilverDawn was alive with the loud bustle of daily life.

Merchants, townsfolk, and travelers gathered together at its heart, the town square.

A variety of stalls were set up, creating a chaotic yet spacious pattern.

Each vendor had a unique combination of vibrant awnings and showcased a different product.

The largest stall, in the middle, hosted the town baker.

He stood covered in flour, surrounded by loaves of freshly baked bread.

Beside him, a butcher sharpened his cleaver, his table heavy with fresh cuts of venison and pork.

Across the way a weaver sat hunched, unrolling and organizing bolts of dyed fabric.

The scent of sage, rosemary, and a variety of spiced ciders wafted from an herbalist's cart, where different herbs were on display.

Blair wove her way through the heart of the bustling market, waving hello to each of the tables.

A bundle of lavender from her favorite florist, cradled securely in her arms. Her hazel eyes scanned the countless merchants that surrounded her.

She smiled softly and paused, taking in how the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky, casting a soft golden hue over everything it touched .

Following the light as it trailed over the town square, she stepped away from the commotion and rested her back against one of the walls behind her.

She observed the glow as it moved fast, consuming everything it touched.

It then lingered and continued to the variety of buildings that lined the street on both sides.

Dusk was her favorite time of day; somehow, the colors of the sunset made her town come to life even more than usual.

This golden light poured energy into everything around her.

She shifted her bundle and took another moment to take in the beautiful sight of her town.

Blair continued to observe as people wove between the stalls: apprentices carrying bundles of parchment, children darting between carts in a game of chase, and their elders watching from wooden benches, sipping on mulled wine.

A bard strummed his lute on a fountain's edge.

His song was light and full of longing, drawing a small crowd of listeners.

The children, who had been running in circles, began to play in the water as their mothers watched them and exchanged stories.

The sound of laughter and conversation echoed off the buildings and reverberated through the street around Blair.

Her eyes flickered between the worn cobblestone streets, the bustling stalls, and the delicate purple flowers that lined the square. A slight evening wind blew, causing her chestnut hair to brush across her face. She smiled at the breeze, sweeping her hair across her shoulders and down her back.

Sunset hit behind the surrounding trees and the blended array of colors shot in multiple directions.

It moved as if it had fingers, grabbing onto the walls and consuming everything in its path.

The weaved colors illuminated the variety of shop signs that hung.

Some were simple wood plaques, others were trimmed with metal.

Each one swayed gently in the wind, creaking with each movement.

The biggest placard, The Ravens Nest, was one of metal and stained glass.

It reflected the light immediately, sending a flood of colors across the entrance.

The flash caught Blair's attention, a stark contrast to its dark interior.

She moved closer, inspecting the sturdy oak doors that were propped open.

Peering inside, she observed the interior.

The Ravens Nest was where most travelers stayed and recharged with food and ale.

A roaring hearth allowed her to examine the inside.

She took note of the many people sitting at tables, their laughter and song spilling into the streets.

She continued on and passed the tanner's shop, its pungent aroma wafting through the air.

The proprietor was busy stretching hides beneath a wooden awning, but he briefly glanced up to give Blair a curt nod.

Coming to the end of the lane, Blair soon reached the apothecary, signaling the last building before the playground that lay nestled beside her Schoolhouse.

She turned back and let her eyes roam the opposite side of the path, where a few other narrow shops resided.

The village was small and stretched just long enough to provide the inhabitants with a few options for entertainment and necessities before it gave way to the ring of cottages that lay on the outskirts surrounding the town.

Each side of SilverDawn was wrapped tightly in thick forest, creating a screen of protection for the townspeople .

This was her home. She knew everything from the names of the shop owners to the small patches of wildflowers that gave SilverDawn its beauty.

Being only one small town in the wide land of Opelysk, it seemed like a hidden gem.

It was said all the towns were like that, each one offering a unique personality.

Fortunately, she only knew of SilverDawn and how it was always alive with vitality.

Blair continued down the familiar path that led to her house, a cozy little hillside that she had called home for many years. Her cottage, like many others in town, was simple. A single story filled with the essence of everything she loved. She lifted the lavender to her nose, inhaling deeply.

Just as she took a step closer to her cottage, a chilling scream cut through the air. Her heart clenched at the sound, and she froze mid-step, the hair on the back of her neck standing up.

It wasn't a scream of joy or surprise but a scream of pure agony.

Dropping the contents in her arms, she raced back toward the square. As she was getting closer, she could hear the cries more clearly.

"Help! Please Help!" The cry was raw, filled with desperation.

Her eyes scoured the crowd first and then moved outward, finally landing on the source of the voice.

A figure appeared, stumbling out of an alleyway, barely able to stand.

They were tall, dressed in tattered clothing.

Their body was covered in deep, fresh cuts.

As they moved closer, the hood from the robe fell, displaying a man's hardly recognizable face.

The skin visible on his face was deathly pale, with eyes that were dull and void of life.

Parts of his robe had been torn open, blood dripping freely from the gashes that marred his skin.

Long, jagged slashes covered his arms, legs, and abdomen.

A crimson trail soaked his clothes and stained the pathway with each step.

"Help!" The stranger pleaded again, the voice no more than a hoarse whisper.

Slowing her momentum, she fought the urge to continue running to the stranger and help him. Instead, her stomach churned at this sight. She stood frozen, her gaze locked on the bleeding figure. What had happened to them ?

The crowd, in shock and fear, seemed unwilling or unable to act.

The children began to cry and ran to hide behind their mothers.

Several whispers spread through the crowd that had gathered.

“ Who is that? ” “Where did they come from? ” From what she could tell, no one knew the person who had just stumbled in.

One individual broke through the stillness then.

A woman in an emerald green cloak waded through the crowd, her long gray hair cascading over her shoulders.

Bryn, The Healer . Blair recognized her immediately, even without the sigil of the Healing Order that was hidden by her hair.

The Healer was well known to the townsfolk for her expertise in tending to wounds and illnesses, and the way she remained calm regardless of the situation.

With a stoic expression, she quickly closed the space between them. Her hands reached out to steady him, "You're safe now," the Healer said. With a calming voice and assertive demeanor, she caught him before he could collapse. "I've got you."

The stranger's breathing was ragged, his body trembling in Bryn's arms. "I can't outrun them." he forced out, fear in every word.

Bryn didn't speak, but her face hardened with understanding. With swift, practiced motions, she turned the stranger's body toward another narrow alley that led to her clinic. Blair's breath held still as the stranger's blood continued to seep into the cobblestones, leaving a trail behind them.

Blair took a step forward, compelled by another overwhelming need to help.

But before she could move further, a man stepped into her path.

He was dressed in a simple tunic and a green cloak that mimicked the colors of the Healer.

He blocked her with a stern expression. Blair recognized him as Bryn's apprentice, though she couldn't recall his name.

"Stay back," he said. "This is no place for curiosity."

Blair's eyes widened, "But.."

"Stay where you are. It's best not to get involved.

" The assistant insisted, breaking eye contact to glance at the Healer.

He seemed to be watching for a cue or some kind of direction.

Blair hesitated; she wanted to do something, but she knew the man in front of her was right.

She had no idea what was going on, and even if she could help, she was no Healer.

She stepped back, imagining what the stranger could have been running from.

The apprentice looked at her again before addressing someone else and the desperation in his voice told her it wasn't something she should take lightly .

As the Healer moved the stranger deeper into the alley, her aide turned and followed them, walking backward. "Move along," he barked, his voice still filled with urgency. "Nothing to see here."