Arisara
Oddly enough, no guards were outside the restaurant, nor any sign of movement. It was eerily mute. I gazed at the evening sky, the hue of the shell of a passionfruit—a rich purple—and surely enough a full moon cradled in the distance. Stars scintillated, twinkling in a consistent rhythm like they were sending me an untranslatable message. The air was sterile, neither humid nor brisk, as if the atmosphere was in a period of stasis.
I headed back inside to see how Anurak was faring against the con-artist. I know he wasn't considerably developed muscularly, but in a fair fight he should have been able to subdue a middle-aged woman. Anurak's power wasn't physical hardiness or brawn; rather, it was his intestinal fortitude. The defiance that roused from his impassioned purple eyes ha
