They spent two nights in the town, getting to Fairwyn at noon on the fourth day. Fairwyn had a rustic air to it, a lively town that seemed to have been around for a while.
They didn't have to ride for much longer after getting to Fairwyn, the carriage coming to its final stop shortly after they got to the town. It was a less-than-savory part of town, the buildings around were large but old, grime staining the walls black.
Asael took a glance at their destination and walked over to speak with the coachman for the first time since they started their journey. "Hang around," He said, tossing the driver a gold coin.
The coachman gave him an enthusiastic grin, showing a couple of missing teeth. He tipped his hat and settled in to wait, humming a lively tune to himself.
"The witch's shop is just down that path," Dulce spoke up, pointing.
Asael looked down the narrow alley that was strangely dark although it was high noon, dangerous figures lined either side of the alley, their eyes partly obscured by a variety of coverings, hats, scarves, and masks in broad daylight.
Even Kath'tan, who was less experienced with traveling around, could tell something wasn't quite right. "You came here by yourself?"
Dulce's eyes nervously darted around. "I actually ended up here by accident while on the run. I sought shelter in the witch's shop, and we got to speaking..."
As he explained, he already started down the alley hemmed in by two tall buildings. There were street-side sellers on each side of the path, some even had their wares on ratty blankets on the ground.
It was difficult to say who was human or not underneath the dark cloaks most wore, knowing stares fixed on them as they walked past. A good number of the folks who hung in the alley could see right through all three of them for what they really were.
Kath'tan had a hand on the poisoned dagger he had pilfered, while Asael was ready to pull out a weapon from thin air. Dulce was the only one impervious to the danger thick in the air, it almost seemed like he was a moment away from greeting everyone they went past.
The end of the alley opened into a different, secluded part of town, the buildings were even older and stranger, the sky above dark and cloudy. There were a lot of shopfronts, but there were also houses and inns, places for living.
The first shop they walked past had glowing butterflies trapped in glass lanterns to provide light, and at first glance into the store, it seemed like everything had been floating. They walked even deeper in, past strange architecture and even stranger animals.
The witch's shop was in an abandoned corner, bramble and dead trees separating it from the rest. It looked even sketchier, which was impressive for everything else they had already seen.
"That is her shop," Dulce said with bright eyes, walking up the broken stairs without hesitation.
The shop itself was made of a strange black wood, it didn't seem like it had been painted. It was large but seemed to occupy a small space, purple smoke billowing from the chimney.
Both Demons shared a look, on similar pages for the first time. Perhaps if danger didn't loom from every corner, it wouldn't stand out so much. And perhaps they should have expected it from the Vampire.
Dulce knocked lightly on the door, ducking instantly, but not nearly quick enough. He turned around with a nervous smile, his pale hair singed black, soot staining his pale face. "Is everybody alright?"
Kath'tan and Asael had already been standing far apart, so the blast of fire had shot right through them. They simply leveled him a look in response, the Vampire wasn't going to die, but he managed to get into situations that sparked concern regardless of that.
Dulce wiped his face with his sleeve, turning back to the door to open it directly. It opened without event, and he tentatively peered in. "Miss Moira? Miss Moira? Are you in?"
"Not going to accompany the Vampire?" Kath'tan tossed out.
Asael had been focused on the open door of the shop, he shot the Fiend a glance. "I could say the same."
Despite the taunts, neither moved. They had come to the end of their journey, a conflict could no longer be put off.
"I don't think the witch is in," Dulce appeared at the entrance, a furrow between his brows. "The shop is empty, perhaps I could ask around for where she has gone-"
"You're looking for the witch, are ya?" An old man bent over a crooked walking stick seemed to appear out of thin air.
"Yes, kind sir," Dulce hastily replied, starting down the stairs. "Do you know where she's gone?"
The man sneered at them, looking the Demons over intently, his eyes covered with a strange film even though he didn't look to be blind. "What do you need 'er for?" He demanded, glaring down both Demons.
"T-That is something best discussed with the witch." Dulce spoke in quieter tones, feeling scolded.
The old man muttered something under his breath that sounded like, 'that Demon-obsessed hag'. Out loud, he snapped. "The witch got 'erself into some trouble. The Queen's soldiers came for 'er. She's been gone for weeks."
Dulce frowned, Mistfall wasn't a matriarchy. It meant that the witch hadn't been arrested by the kingdom, but rather, the Queen of Alderth.
He lifted his stick and pointed it with a trembling hand at Dulce. "She's not coming back, if she's lucky, she's dead. So take yourself and those... monsters," He lowered his voice to say, his eyes clearing up slightly. "And leave." He limped away after that, disappearing into the bramble.
"M-My..." Dulce began, about to do what he did best before he was interrupted by loud clattering. He turned around and hurried to the sound, hoping it was the witch.