Dark Alleys

The group walked into the town and was immediately surrounded by noise, a lot more people were on the streets than the day before and this time there were no gathering for a gallows. Stalls stretched across the square, their awnings bright with dyed cloth and painted signs. The air was thick with smells—spiced meats, baked bread, the faint sourness of livestock—and the voices of dozens of merchants shouting over one another.

For a moment, it almost felt normal.

Mira didn’t trust it.

As the others pushed into the flow of the market, she lingered near the back of the group, eyes scanning the shadows that stretched between buildings. The sunlight was bright, but the alleys seemed darker than they should’ve been, as if the light itself avoided them. In one narrow gap between a butcher’s stall and a stone wall, she swore she saw the outline of a hand, pale and long-fingered, pressing faintly against the darkness like fabric. She blinked, and it was gone.

“Mira,” Sai’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Don’t lag behind.”

She nodded quickly and hurried forward, though her heart thudded a little faster. She kept quiet; telling them what she saw would only make them worry. And besides, how could she explain it without sounding like she’d gone mad?

Eira, meanwhile, had already slowed, her attention snagged by a stall stacked with small carved pendants. Each one was a rough disc of wood with an etched symbol burned into its surface—birds, suns, spirals, and stranger marks Mira didn’t recognize.

“They’re charms,” the woman at the stall explained brightly as Eira picked one up. “Blessings for travel, for good harvest, protection from storms, even luck with love.”

Eira turned one over in her hands, studying the careful burn marks. “Do they work?” she asked, her voice light but with a thread of genuine curiosity.

The woman shrugged with a smile. “Depends on if you believe. Some say the gods listen through them. Some say it’s just wood and hope.”

Eira smiled faintly, brushing her thumb over the spiral charm. For a moment, she looked almost peaceful.

That was when Corvin stepped in. “Eira,” he muttered sharply, reaching out to tug at her from behind “What we looking at? something cool something we can buy now? is it a weapon?.”

She blinked at him, frowning. “What the? No it’s just a pendant.”

Before Corvin could answer, the merchant woman’s expression shifted. Her smile faltered, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him more closely.

“You…” she whispered, and then louder: “I know you.”

Corvin stiffened, his grip on Eira’s arm tightening. “No, you don’t,” he said quickly.

“Yes, I do.” The woman pointed at him, voice rising. “You’re the boy. The one they were going to hang yesterday. Gods above… it’s you.”

Heads turned. A few villagers slowed their steps, murmuring to one another. Mira felt the weight of stares pressing on them, the way a crowd shifts from disinterest to suspicion in the blink of an eye.

Eira froze, guilt flashing across her face. “Oh no…”

Corvin forced a strained grin, though his shoulders were tense. “Lady, you’re mistaken. Must’ve been someone else.”

But the woman shook her head, lips pursed. “I saw you with my own eyes. You stood on the gallows with the rope around your neck.”

Sai stepped in before the tension snapped. He raised his hands calmly, voice steady and diplomatic. “There’s no need for alarm. My companion here was accused falsely, and the charge was dismissed by Dex himself. If you have any doubts, you can take them up with him directly.”

The mention of Dex made some of the villagers hesitate, but whispers continued to ripple through the growing circle.

Mira’s pulse spiked. She glanced toward a side alley and froze again. Inside was one of the shadows, pointing one finger upwards towards a shape hunched above, too tall, its limbs too thin. It leaned just far enough that she could see the outline of its face—or lack of one. No eyes, no mouth. Just a blank surface, like a mask carved from ash.

She bit her lip hard, turning back before anyone noticed her staring. But her stomach churned. They were watching, even here, even now.

Corvin, meanwhile, had lost his temper. “Look, if you want to keep shouting about it, go ahead, but you think Dex is gonna be happy when he hears his decision is being questioned by some market hag?” His words came out sharper than he intended, but his fear was showing in his anger.

The woman drew back, offended, but she didn’t answer right away. A few villagers muttered disapprovingly at Corvin’s tone, but others seemed cowed by the reminder of Dex’s authority.

Eira stepped forward quickly, placing herself between Corvin and the stall. “Please—there’s no need for this. We’ll leave.” Her voice was soft, almost pleading, but it cut through the tension.

Sai gave a quick nod, motioning to the others. “Yes. We’re going.”

They turned as one, pushing back into the crowded street. The murmurs followed them like a buzzing cloud.

Corvin muttered curses under his breath. “This is exactly what I said. They all remember. We shouldn’t even be here.”

“Then keep your voice down,” Sai snapped quietly. “Drawing more attention is the last thing we need.”

“Easy for you to say,” Corvin shot back. “You weren’t almost—” He cut himself off, jaw tight.

Mira glanced at him, then back at the alley shadows, half expecting the faceless figure to have followed. She didn’t see it now, but the unease clung to her skin like damp cloth.

Eira slipped the pendant she’d been holding back onto the stall before they left, her expression somber. She hadn’t meant to start anything, but the guilt in her eyes lingered.

The group pressed deeper into the market, trying to blend with the crowd. But more and more people turned and looked at them as they walked passed, “Follow me” Sai Said as he noticed the looks and grabbed a hold of Corvin that grabbed Eira that grabbed Mira as they were being led into an alleyway by Sai.