Post by asher rowan burke on Dec 14, 2023 21:08:26 GMT -7
dynasty decapitated,
you just might see a ghost tonight
December 1, 2028
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There was no point in hiding. The least Asher could do was blend in, and so he did. He opted for something far more casual rather than his finely tailored suit from Twilfitt and Tattings. A well-worn cloak over Asher’s shirt and boots carried whatever dirt and mud tracked from the village’s famous cobblestone paths. Contrary to what his sister might think, Asher felt as comfortable now as he would in his most expensive suit. And now he blended in easily with the clientele of this well-known establishment.
It was a habit for Asher to spend some time here. Order a drink or two and head back to the club. It was like a slow reintroduction to society where hardly anyone gave him a second look. The Hog’s Head was not The Three Broomsticks—not that Asher would have a chance to enter there in this lifetime. But, since his release, something within Asher had crawled out for more. But he hadn’t a clue what it sought. Everything that remained at his fingertips—power and money didn’t seem to cut it anymore. And it had been taking all his will and energy to appear as ‘himself’ or what others expected. Hazel always looked at him with those suspicious eyes. The same tinge of icy blue as his own.
A glass floated and landed next to the empty one before him. Asher nodded to the bartender, who nodded in return. Asher knew a few faces from The Purifiers, but whenever they all locked eyes, there was that unsaid agreement to never speak of those days again. And he didn’t fear them or any power they thought their information held. Asher Burke was caught red-handed, and yet he walked free. And that was far more powerful than any finger-pointing. But The Hog’s Head felt relatively safe, and people left him alone. At least most of the time…
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