Chapter 151: Civilization
Élisa didn’t respond right away. Her golden eyes swept the surroundings, scanning each building, each alley, each stare—as if trying to understand something unseen.
"The last time I came here was thirty years ago," she said into the void, not expecting a reply from anyone. "It feels... really strange."
Dylan, ever himself despite the tension hanging in the air, didn’t wait long to cut in.
"You know what I find strange?" he said with that half-mocking, half-weary tone that served to mask his nerves. "We’re finally in a city—civilization, supposedly—and yet we still smell like the aftermath of a chaos-filled road trip."
He raised an arm, sniffed his sleeve dramatically, then winced.
"Seriously, what is this alchemy of sweat, rotten grass, and cart smoke? I swear the city took a step back when we arrived."
Marisse, still focused on steering the horses through the urban chaos, exhaled through her nose—equal parts exasperation and amusement.
"Shut up and look for a damn inn sign instead of philosophizing with your stench."
Dylan raised his hands in surrender, a crooked smile on his tired face. "Look for an inn, look for an inn..." he muttered, scanning the soot-blackened wooden beams for faded signs. Most of the letters were smeared out, the symbols unrecognizable under layers of grime. "Easy for you to say. So far, the only legible sign I’ve seen promises ’Fresh Guts & Hot Blood.’ Sounds appealing, right? Especially the guts—I don’t trust their cleaning methods."
He stopped abruptly, his gaze drawn to a narrow alley that sloped steeply into a fog of hot steam and sparks. "There! That looks like... maybe a limping horse painted on a plank. Or a giant rat? Either way, I say it’s an inn. ’The Limping Stallion.’ Has a ring to it."
Marisse cast a skeptical glance in the indicated direction. The entrance was narrow, partially blocked by a group of rough-looking men drinking thick beer from chipped mugs. Their eyes followed the cart with hostile curiosity. A low rumble echoed from the depths of the alley, mingling with muffled cries and the steady clink of hammer on anvil.