Tables crashed and chairs were sent flying as he charged towards her. Hennessey flung herself out of the way, just in time to dodge the bull of a man tearing past, but in doing so, she had lunged into the group by the corner, who seemed to have caught up to the situation and held just as much animosity towards the elf as the man itching to brawl.

'I said take it outside!' the bartender hollered from behind the bar, but no one was listening.

Two men from the group each grabbed onto one of Hennessey's arms, keeping her in place in spite of her retaliation. She tried to throw them off, but her petite size dwarfed her under her captors. No amount of skill could help if she was suspended in the air.

'We got the pretty little thing for ya, Barak!' the shorter one on her left called out in glee, his voice high pitched and wheezy and Ty was reminded of Hubert's stupid face.

Barak returned with a shit-eating grin of his own, approaching Hennessey with one fist raised and ready in a fighting stance. 'By the time I'm done with her, she won't be so pretty no more.'

He threw a punch, striking Hennessey hard in the cheek. Her head snapped to one side; a resounding crack was heard across the bar. The crowd cheered and laughed, but no one except for Ty saw the knee that came up straight after, buried into the brute's groin with a strength that had even Ty flinching. Barak doubled over, and as their faces levelled, Hennessey took the opportunity and head-butted him with a crack on the bridge of his nose.

Chaos erupted. There were shouts and swearing, and furniture was forced out of the way in outrage. Hennessey wrenched herself from the two men who were dumbfounded, kicking one of them in the stomach and sending him tumbling into the cronies at the back. The shorter one whirled on her, an ugly snarl on his bearded face.

'You bitch!'

She struck him in the jaw and sent him along with his comrade. All the while Barak had resumed his stance, his hand flew to his side. Suddenly Ty caught a blade that glinted dangerously in the dark.

'Watch out!' he yelled. Before Ty realised what he was doing, he grabbed his mug and whacked Barak in the head, sending the man unconscious onto a puddle of ale. Then, Ty was in the thick of it, dodging and swinging at half-drunk, angry men. His first blow smashed into someone's nose, spraying red like an ketchup. His fist flared in pain, his shoulder throbbed, but he ignored it as best as he could, tackling into bearded face who was ganging up on Hennessey with three others by the bar. Unfortunately, he didn't calculate the difference in size between the two of them. Ty was only slightly bigger than Hennessey, and bearded face had no problem throwing him off before socking him in the eye. Ty was sent spinning, his stomach catching the bar counter at the edge.

A beefy arm wrapped around his neck and squeezed. His vision bruised black and purple and consciousness slipped for a second. His hands scrambled for something, anything, and his fingers brushed the glazed surface of earthenware, his porridge. Desperate, Ty slammed the plate behind him, the porridge still hot enough to serve a purpose. A screech resounded in his ear and the arm withdrew, Ty gasped for breath and swung around, just in time to see bearded face wiping remnants of oats from his eyes before the man was on him again.

They brawled just over the bar counter. Ty took a few hits to the face, but this time he was ready. He jabbed the man in the eyes and took the chance to squeeze his fingers around his throat, choking him with all the strength he could muster. Bearded face spluttered, hands flapping at his neck, then somewhere else beside him.

And metal struck Ty hard in the temple. He only saw darkness for the next moment, though the boot to his stomach was as real as it could get. When he came to, he was on the ground, hair wet with alcohol – something strong, hard liquor – and back pressed against a barstool. Bearded face was grinning over him, a steel tankard dripping with blood in one hand. He raised his dirtied boot above Ty's head, and Ty shut his eyes in anticipation of the pain that was about to strike.

Only it didn't come. There was a yell of shock and several harsh thwacks amongst the din. One second passed before Ty opened his eyes to see his foe falling face smacked onto the ground, dead to the world like that of a newborn baby, along with many others within his vicinity. Any seasoned men of violence left behind seemed to have caught on to what happened, and without a leader to follow they were quick to rush out the door, tails tucked between their legs. Hennessey was in a corner alone, exhausted but tensed. Her fists – bloodied – were still in a fighting pose, her lips drawn up in a snarl, she reminded him of a cornered animal. Rabid, wild. Silence reigned for several heartbeats. Slowly and in disbelief, Ty traced his gaze to the man standing above the unconscious bodies, the one who had presumably knocked everyone out without so much as breaking a sweat. The one who was groaning with an irritated look on his face, currently massaging his temples as if trying to rid himself of a migraine.

Ty recognised him as the patron who was sitting alone by the bar when they came in, obviously unassociated to the groupie Barak led. Without the natural light of the day, it was difficult to make out his features. But Ty could tell the man had greyed hair and a hard face, perhaps in his fifties. It was below his eyes that allowed him a distinct look in the dark; two lines running along his cheeks like a scarred warrior. 

'Bastards ruined happy hour and took my drink... jus' wanted somethin to get my morning started, can't even have that,' the man slurred, dragging a hand over his face. He stumbled slightly toward the bartender who was cowering in a corner and wagged a finger like a parent lecturing a child. 'Hey, Flanagan! This is why you keep a shooter under the counter. Keeps the peace in yer' bar from these idiots—' he nudged bearded face with the tip of his boot, 'ye know?'

When the bartender did not reply, he pointed to Ty with an unsteady finger and mumbled. 'This boy knows what I'm talkin' bout.'

Ty didn't, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He was just as speechless and alarmed as Flanagan.

The man wasn't bothered though, lazily pointing a thumb at bearded face on the ground. 'Charge my vino on this halfwit's tab, will ya? Least he can do after taking my drink.'

He didn't wait for a reply, swivelling on his heel as he padded outside. He lingered for a second by the front door, turning his head in Hennessey's direction. Ty tensed up, and Hennessey readjusted herself, glaring hatred back at the guy. Slowly but steadily, the man reached out and snatched a bottle off of the table – the only one left standing in the bar – between the two of them. He scoffed, then took a hard swing off the liquor, all before disappearing out the door with a wave of his hand.

Something about it triggered Ty, leaving an empty feeling in him as if he had seen it all before, as if he felt like he could possibly know who this man was. A familiar silhouette flashed across his vision. 

Ty got onto his feet, his world tilting in a spiral and his head pounding to the music still playing along. His tongue was sandy, his throat dry. By the time he got to the entrance and forced it open, the man was gone. And so was the patchy-haired mule.  

***

Unquestionably, they were kicked out of Dipsomaniacs.

After the grey-haired man left, it had taken less than a minute for Flanagan to gather himself, and once he did, gone was the weak-kneed man hiding behind his barrel of ale when the bar fight had raged on. He'd reverted back to the cynical fellow that was so ready to criticize Ty and Hennessey's presence within his establishment, and it took less than a bellow and the brandishing of a kitchen knife to get them out of the door. Hennessey's items followed soon after, her water filter shattering onto the pavement just as Flanagan's hysterical shouts echoed down the streets.

'I never want to see your grubby faces round here ever again, ya hear me? And you tell Calum she'll have to do more than send a kid and a freak to my bar if she wants me to cave!'

The door slammed shut, and it was a few seconds before the situation finally settled. By then, they had attracted a crowd. Hennessey threw her hood back on before anything else got escalated. Ty dropped to pick up the glass pieces of the filter, only to have a hand closed on his shoulder.

'Don't bother,' Hennessey sighed, thrusting the bedroll into his arms. 'Let's just take the other stuff and get out of here, the jar's replaceable.'

There were few people around who threw them sympathetic glances, many had left in disgust after catching sight of Hennessey's tipped ears, but those that stayed kindly offered directions to a hotel for lodgings. It was much more expensive than renting a room in a tavern, but at least they'd get more privacy and less racial animosity. Hennessey apologised for the trouble she'd dragged Ty into, but since then she'd been quiet and withdrawn. A bruise that formed on her cheek seemed to bring about a certain type of roguishness to the picture.

Ty himself looked worse for wear, sporting a split lip along with a black eye. His face reflected pain in the hotel mirror, and he didn't even want to check the gauze wrapped over his shoulder. There were no other words for it; he felt like shit, and he'd swore he'd never get into a bar fight again if he could help it. Though if Ty had to be honest, a small part of him would probably do it all once more if it had meant helping Hennessey out.

The only good that came out of the brawl was Calum. Ty had gathered enough from Flanagan's rant to know that she was very likely in Riverstead, and that bit of knowledge washed away the hopelessness that came with their less than welcoming experience. He tried not to ponder on the inebriated man from the bar that had unknowingly saved them.

Hennessey was tucking her bag beneath the bed. The silence was deafening.

'Do you... deal with that a lot?' he asked. He had meant the racism and the look on Hennessey's face answered his question. Ty thought back to Hennessey's hesitance before they stepped into the bar. It must not have been her first time.

She let out a tired chuckle, one void of emotions, which was as good of an implication as any. 'I should've seen it coming. Gilleran's not exactly known for its liberality.'

Ty nodded along, knowing how true that was. Had Hennessey not saved his life, he probably wouldn't have given the elf the benefit of the doubt, and knowing that brought about shame that had him looking away. To his chagrin, that was exactly how he had acted when he saw her ears. Unfriendly and even slightly hostile. No wonder she had been mad.

'Why are you here?' he finally inquired the question that's been on his mind for the past two days. 'It's not because of any cordial reception, I'm certain.'

Hennessey didn't respond, and for a moment Ty thought she wasn't going to, until they were out of the room and walking down the carpeted hallway. She turned to him just before reaching the lobby, sober resolution in her downcast eyes.

'I was sent to look for a human healer,' she said. 'I need to find him soon too, before the season is up. It's why I was by the river when I found you, I was heading up to Havenridge. It's the last city left in Gilleran that I haven't checked.'

She didn't say any more than that, moving to the door that leads out of the building. 

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and when it did, Ty rushed forward to grab her. He didn't realise how frantic or hard he was gripping onto her arm until a soft hand rested on his.

'Don't go.'

Hennessey furrowed her eyebrows, confused. 'It's getting late, and I really need to get some supplies—'

'No, I meant don't go to Havenridge,' Ty said, the urgency clear in his voice. There are summoners there, and demons, he wanted to say. He wanted to shake her by the shoulders and shout for her to stay away. But he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.

And the realisation of everything suddenly hit him in full force. That Ty had lost his home, his family. That he was once again alone. Up until then, he had looked on and dealt with everything as if it was a nightmare, a dream; something unreal that would go away if he'd pinched himself hard enough. Having heard Hennessey – someone from the outside world – talking about Havenridge and not knowing of the horrors that were going on behind those walls, it shattered that paper-thin looking glass, and the daunting reality was finally hitting him. Everything was about to change, because the City of Trades was gone for good, and the summoners were rising for a reason, wanting him for a reason.

Hennessey could see it. Ty was certain she could see the desperation in his eyes. She opened her mouth, words of worry surely at the tip of her tongue. But the town bell had beaten her to it. Ringing two bells, paused, then three. And back was her expression of haste. He was momentarily forgotten.

'Listen, Ty. I really need to resupply, just wait for me here. Take a breather, and we can talk about it when I get back, alright?' Her hand squeezed his grip and she smiled that smile he'd seen the first time he opened his eyes after the waterfall; the one that stuttered his heart and reassured his worries.

As the elf turned to leave, a silent question loomed over Ty.

But how much can reassurance do when the world was about to go to shit?