TITLE: The White Phoenix
GENRE: Dark Fantasy
Silas Wolfe was used to women staring at him. He supposed they had a reason to, though. His reputation as the town heartthrob no doubt warranted such behavior.
Except, he didn't think that was any excuse for a woman who was blind.
He stared back. He *never* stared back, but it was just such an odd prospect that he couldn't help himself.
She stood on the other side of one of the bazaar's few crowded avenues. There were merchants selling goods from every corner of the land. Mysterious wanderers came and went without so much as a sound. And then there were the everyday townspeople who, as soon as they left, would return to their quiet village lives.
This woman didn't fall into any of those categories.
Could it be that she wasn't blind? That the sun, as it was awfully bright today, made it seem so, or that her eyes were the lightest shade of blue? Who's to say it was even him she was looking at? With so many people, so many sights, surely this woman was looking at something behind him.
He threw a glance over his shoulder. All he found was an old, rickety wagon and the bare wall of the side of the tavern. Nothing of any interest.
He turned to her again.
If she was indeed blind, perhaps it was just coincidental that she was looking in his direction. But Silas knew when someone was staring at him.
And she was definitely staring.