ZARIAH
I haven't been falling all this time - I've been flying
Zariah arrived at the Artisan’s Guild, unannounced, unexpected, the slight click of the heel of her boots the only thing indicating her entrance. The hood of her cloak which concealed her identity as she entered was lowered slowly, deliberately. Quietly she scanned the room, face expressionless, despite knowing the person she was seeking could not see her face. Old habits die hard, or so they say. Hazel eyes locked on to her target, sitting at a desk, and for a moment she merely stared before approaching. Was it cruel to walk up to a blind man with only one’s steps to announce their presence? Probably. Did she care? Did she ever?
She stopped next to the desk, watching his unseeing gaze, which surely was swinging around to try and find the source of the clicking noise. Again she was silent, just watching, taking in and memorizing the alchemist in the moment. ”Remi.” she said at length, tone low and velvety. ”It’s Zariah, and I’ve a proposition for you. Might you know a place we can speak privately?” she asked, her request syrupy sweet.
She stopped next to the desk, watching his unseeing gaze, which surely was swinging around to try and find the source of the clicking noise. Again she was silent, just watching, taking in and memorizing the alchemist in the moment. ”Remi.” she said at length, tone low and velvety. ”It’s Zariah, and I’ve a proposition for you. Might you know a place we can speak privately?” she asked, her request syrupy sweet.
