I had made it out the door and down a rickety set of stairs when Oracle came walking around the side of, what I’ll loosely call, a building. She smiled at me and shoved a steaming cup into my hands, then, urging me to follow, started walking.
She didn’t even bother to ask where I’d been going. What do you do? Walk the other way?
I chose to follow. Mostly because she was my only contact in this place and if I wanted answers, she was my best chance at getting them. At least for now. Plus, the girl has the hottest ass I’ve seen in a very long time and following her definitely provided a nice change of scenery. So sue me, I’m a guy.
As we walked, she pointed out points of interest or introduced me to passers-by. I saw a shop (again, I use the term loosely) that sold twisted trinkets dangling from scraps of dirty yarn, a restaurant of sorts, a lone tree with scraps of material tied to its branches, met a man who believed himself to be a forgotten God of Olde, and a fortune-teller who could only provide nonsensical predictions. I couldn’t help but notice a lot of odd looks from those we passed, and not one of them made eye contact with either myself or Oracle.
We finally stopped at a place who’s front door was made entirely from pieces of old signs tied together.
To my surprise, it was the home of a Healer. After checking out my injured elbow and confirming that it was just a mild sprain, he turned to Oracle and said, “So this is the one they’re looking for?”