Chapter 4 - Jalems I
The clouds had turned dark. Lightning and thunder roared behind them as if the gods were in pursuit. They knew they needed to find shelter before nightfall.
Upon arriving in Brinebourne, a rural town buzzing with liveliness, their first stop was a bustling tavern. The interior glowed with the warm color of aged pecan, and the tables were so well kept that they glimmered in the sunset.
Jalems marched to the barkeep, Marie only a few steps behind him. The rest of the group claimed a table by an open window. White lagged behind, too busy drinking in her surroundings.
The barkeep brought Jalems an ale in a tall, frost-covered mug. He downed the glass before it even touched the mahogany countertop.
“Long trip, huh?” the barkeep laughed, cleaning a beer mug with a towel he pulled from his waist. His hands were riddled with age spots.
Jalems wiped his mouth with the back of his fingerless glove. “If you only knew,” he chuckled.
“How’s the wife?” Jalems asked.
The man stopped cleaning. His eyes saddened.
“The sickness took her,” the barkeep said softly.
Jalems' heart sank, he almost regretted asking the question. He still hadn’t faced his own grief, let alone share someone else’s.
“But one day, if the gods allow it, I’ll see her again. So that gives me my peace,” the old man said with a faint smile as he began wiping down the counter again.
Jalems feigned a smile.
The barkeep poured him another round.
“Jalems, I don’t know who you screwed over this time, but I’m not sure if I can house you tonight,” he warned.
The barkeep’s frail grey hair blew lightly as the front door opened.
Jalems’ jaw tightened.
“Come on, all I need is one night and we’ll be out of your hair,” he pleaded.
Jalems was a proud man, but he would do anything for his little girl, even beg.
The barkeep hesitated. His jowly face tightened into a frown, his lips forming a hard line. The only thing he had left to live for was his establishment, and Jalems’ presence would put that at risk.
“Alright. One night, but that’s it. No more, Jalems. I mean it.”
Jalems smiled and downed his second glass.
A bright canary-yellow butterfly caught White’s attention. She followed the creature with her eyes, keeping up as it passed each window until she found herself drifting out of the entryway.
Marie scanned the pub looking for White. She spotted her prancing outside.
Jalems walked over to the group, blocking Marie’s view.
“Marie, we’ve done our part. Best let her be on her way,” he reminded her.
Marie kept her eyes fixed on White. She was protective of her, White gave her the feeling of calm. Like a younger sibling.
Tek’mer felt something. He could never find the words for it. It was a sensation that left as quickly as it came.
A high-pitched noise pierced his ears.
His breath became heavy.
He recognized the feeling.
It never meant anything good was about to happen.