Gods, this is so embarrassing...
Well, he certainly wasn't expecting that. He swore to himself never to leave his bandages on haphazardly ever again as he mumbled a thank you to the woman. She had gone so far as to use her own medicine and bandana to close the wound on his neck.
If only it could actually heal. Then he wouldn't have had this problem in the first place. It's been years now, and he still couldn't get it to do much more than to close up temporarily.
One more thing was bothering him from what had happened a few moments ago. She had a massive amount of scars almost everywhere on her body. He wondered if she really was this chatty and clueless person she seemed to convey when they met.
Perhaps...
His head hurt, and he couldn't think straight. It was probably the bloodloss.
He looked over to the woman. Reflected in the last rays of the sunset, it seemed as her golden eyes were dancing in the light. However, he could now tell for certain she wasn't the type of person he had assumed she was. Those were the detached eyes of someone who has seen many die in front of her.
She must be one hell of a mercenary, Tyrna thought.
He walked with her for perhaps another fifteen minutes, taking detours through back alleys and slums, when they finally arrived in front of Drake's manor. It was a large building, looking like a palace. There were cream colored pillars erupting from the ground surrounding it, with a magnificent wooden door as an entrance inside. Windows dotted the sides of the building.
The sun had set, and it was now dark. Tyrna walked up to the gate. Stationed outside was a yawning guard, barring them.
Tyrna threw a coin at him. As if on cue, the gates were opened.
He turned around to the mercenary.
"This is it, by the way. In case you were wondering, he always keeps three extra guards hidden from sight, so be careful if you're going to do something rash."
He figured he should at least give a warning, especially because of the help he received earlier. Those guards were definitely tough though. He remembered a time as a slave when he had set up a crossbow trap, and one of them had caught the bolt with their hand. The guard didn't let out a single sound, and even pulled it out himself. However, Tyrna supposed if he had to, he could keep them occupied long enough for her to finish whatever business she had with Drake. He pulled out a spool of thin wire just in case. He then suddenly remembered something.
"Ah, I forgot to ask, what should I call you?"
He figured he could have been a bit slow, seeing as this was most likely the last time they were going to meet, but there was no point in not asking either.