Arcata felt the hand on her arm, felt it grab her tightly. Her heart sank into the soles of her shoes.
no
The words coming from his mouth were friendly...calculated no doubt to avoid anyone coming to her aid. Sometimes strangers would. But the grip told another story.
She looked around, eyes wide, face slack. It was too late for words now. Too late for stories, for running, for guilt. Something was going to happen, and she was nearly as frightened of that as she was of what awaited her should the Guild get her back.
Nearly.
What Federigo saw in the young woman's eyes was a haunted terror...and deep within her pupils a pulsing yellow-white light.
She said something. Just a single word. It didn't even MEAN anything...sounding more like some kind of garbly word-noise that a baby might make.
And then the woman evaporated. No, that was the wrong word. She
evanesced. One moment, he was holding a girl, solid and soft. Then that strange light he'd glimpsed in her eyes was shining out through her skin; he could see veins and bones and the shadows of organs, save only in the spots her clothes covered her. Then she was
gone, as if she'd burned to nothing from within. Not even ash remained.
Meanwhile
On the street just outside the tavern, there was a ripple of light. Not just a flash...ripple was really the best word for it. It emanated in a series of quick pulses from a point, and then there was a girl standing there, one arm held out and crooked as if it was being held by something invisible.
She blinked in the sudden sunlight and looked around wildly. On seeing the taven there behind her, she realized what had happened and did what any sane person would do in that circumstance.
Arcata
ran.
(OOC - Sorry, Misty Stepped
)