The door creaked open, and a tentative wedge of sunlight began to fan across the room. It nestled in the cracks of walls, painted tables with colour anew, and swept away the grey silence, like a fresh broom taken to cobwebs. The man sitting behind the bar jerked to rapt attention, pausing in his restless wiping. He watched with wary eyes as his guest approached.
The petite figure that came through the doorway trod cautiously towards him, but her gaze was locked firmly on the corner where the cloaked stranger still yet sat. The bartender squinted to make out her face against the sunlit doorway. Besides them three, the rest of the inn was empty, as it had been since last night. Not surprising, Iven thought, given the skittish disposition of his fellow villagers.
The girl pulled up a stool and turned to face him, and Iven saw that it was young Eryn. He blinked. Lom’s daughter. She was perhaps the last person he expected to see back in his inn, especially this soon.