Hazel remained sitting on the floor for a few more minutes, trying to get her body to calm down because it still felt like a threat was looming near her and she couldn't stop her body's reaction.
Wait… "Hey! You didn't pay me! What about my money!" She rushed to the door and started banging loudly, her body protesting as it screamed in pain.
"Dammit," she cursed under her breath in frustration. The number of crimes she had committed was already enough to send her back to prison and her mind couldn't help but become restless. Perhaps she hadn't realized how much she had changed over the years until now and it made her pull her hair in frustration.
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and she winced when she licked the little cut at the corner of her bottom lip. Luckily, the owner had just thrown her out and not left her in the mercy of the drunken bloodthirsty men.
Contemplating on whether to go make a scene at the front instead, Hazel turned around and walked into the streets. People gave her curious glances as they watched her disheveled state, but Hazel was too restless to care. First she needed her things back and they were still in the room she paid for. Then her salary even though she lasted for only a few hours. She still believed she deserved to be paid.
Her disoriented thoughts made her unaware of anything else and she blindly walked into the streets, barely missing a hit from a wagon as someone grabbed her shirt and pulled her back.
"Watch where you're going woman!" The wagon's footman yelled angrily.
Hazel's eyes darted around as her heart drummed in her ears. Despite being in the middle of the road, she suddenly couldn't breathe and her chest started aching. She clutched her chest as she tried breathing and her eyes welled up with tears as the task became harder with each try.
"Hey, calm down," she heard someone's voice and she didn't bother to look who was whispering in her ears. All her senses were focused on was getting enough air into her lungs and without even realising it, tears started running down her face.
"You're alright. Now… Hazel?" Her mind cleared when she heard her name being called and she looked up in a daze. The man staring at her in bewilderment seemed surprised and shocked, but for a moment, Hazel's mind couldn't register anything else.
"It's—it's Finley. You don't remember me?" The man asked tentatively and Hazel's vision started to clear.
Finley? "Master Finley?" She croaked back, uncertainty evident in her tear filled eyes.
"Yes, yes. Master Finley," the man nodded reassuringly.
"Master Finley." Hazel called in a strained voice, finally giving in to the tears that now fell freely. Her hands grabbed onto Finley's shirt as she sobbed in his arms. It seemed like the tears were neverending and all the pain she'd been suppressing finally reached its limits.
…
After crying in the middle of the streets for about an entire hour, Finley took Hazel to another tavern and ordered some food for her while Hazel related to him everything that had been happening. She couldn't bring herself to eat and her swollen, red eyes stayed downcast the entire time.
Master Finley was a man she knew from her childhood, a close friend of her uncle's who used to own a training centre back in her hometown. Finley was the one who had taught her how to fight and she had profound respect for him because in the years she had known him, the man helped them a lot and changed their lives. A big part of her was grateful to him because if he hadn't taught her everything she knew about combat and using weapons, she was certain she would be dead by now.
Finley ordered two cups of ale and two full goblets were brought to them. He smiled as he took his own. "Come on. You can't be sulking all day," he teased and Hazel looked up with an empty smile. She stared at the beer and didn't hesitate to pick it up.
"To new beginnings." Their goblets clinked and they both chugged down the beer, their faces scrunching up with every gulp.
Hazel felt the awful taste on her tongue, followed by a burn in her throat that made her almost spit out the drink but she forced everything down until the cup was empty.
They slammed the mugs on the table in unison and Hazel was quick to pick something from her plate and put inside her mouth to erase the awful taste.
Meanwhile, Finley's face remained passive and only a slight smile showed on his expression. Hazel on the other hand had a painful expression, as if she was forced to drink an entire bowl of bitter vinegar.
Within a minute, the booze had warmed up her body and her face was now flushed. Remarkably so, her mood also shifted and she started eating wholeheartedly.
"Beer always warms up the stomach," Finley commented with a light laugh. Hazel only smiled as she wolfed down the food he bought her.
"This is what we're going to do," he started as he chewed on his own food and Hazel turned her attention to him. "I'll go talk to the Koza owner and have him return your things, then I'll give you some coins so that you can get your uncle's knife back and we can leave together for the capital."
"Are you sure about Koza? The man was very angry when I left," Hazel asked uncertainly.
"Don't worry. I'll just go alone because I don't really trust you to handle such a situation. You'd probably end up killing another man," he said with a light shrug.
"I didn't kill him," Hazel defended, "I told you it was self defence because he was manhandling me."
"Alright, alright," Finley raised his hands in surrender and continued eating his food.
When they were done, he gave Hazel five silver coins and they parted outside the tavern. He proceeded to Koza and Hazel watched until he disappeared, then started walking to the other side of town where the pawnshop was.
Her chest still felt stuffed for some reason and she didn't know why. She was supposed to be happy because master Finley had saved her life–was still doing it–and with his help she could go back to the capital and get her revenge on the man who ruined her life. But despite that, her chest still felt heavy and her mood remained gloomy as she navigated the alleyways of Hawksley.
She couldn't fix her mind on anything specific, and she didn't want to because she feared the dark memories looming at the back of her mind.
It was mid-day and the town was as bustling as any other time of the day because Hawksley was ever busy. The noises from the mass of people going about their day helped drown the voices in Hazel's head.
When she arrived at the pawnshop, she found the same man from the previous day, again arguing with the owner. But this time the owner called some people that dragged away the angry customer who continued raining insults at the equally angry owner.
"Sorry for that. My name is George, how may I help you?" the owner greeted as he wiped beads of sweat on his forehead.
Hearing no response, George lifted his head and Hazel saw his expression turn from anger to surprise, then a little panicky.
"Oh, it is you," he smiled nervously.
"Yes, it is me. I came to get my dagger back," Hazel went straight to the point, a frown marring her forehead at George's jittery movements.
She already had a feeling that he had sold her dagger despite her stern warning when she left it, but she still wanted to hear it from him. She could already feel her anger returning as she glared at George coldly.
"Well, then… where's my money?" George asked. Without breaking eye contact, Hazel reached for the coins in her pocket and handed the money to him.
She waited as he counted, then put the money inside his trouser pocket.
"Errm… miss…" George fumbled for words, the intense glare from Hazel making him more nervous. Usually, he wouldn't be this jittery when he sold something and would be quick to dismiss whoever it was after taking his money.
"Well the knife is gone. Some men came, very prestigious men and were interested in the dagger. I had no choice but to sell it," he blurted out, deciding not to drag on the unnecessary conversation.
Hazel was quiet. Her eyes turned frosty and George swallowed hard, his hands turning clammy when he saw a blade peeking out from Hazel's sleeve.
He raised his hands in the air. "Now don't be making a scene here," he warned nervously as he retreated from her.
Hazel stepped forward and grabbed the man by the collar, the hidden blade pressing close to the pulse on his neck.
"Where is it?"