Harp watched the front of the pub closely, staying just out of sight in the shadows. The light was low here but his eyes, green and cat-like, could see through even the darkest gloom. The man he was waiting for was just inside, most likely nursing the last pint of ale before the bartender finally kicked him out to close up shop. It was typically the same story with wizards, Harp mused, pulling the dark trench coat around his shoulders as he waited. Wizards seemed to believe that the world was created especially for them and that everyone else should mind their manners. It hadn’t always been like that. There was a time when the magical humans were just are rare as other magic creatures. They were taught in secret and kept to their own ways, creating Clans of their own. Of course, all of that changed twenty years ago, a time that Harp remembered with a shudder.
Word Count: 3648
So, yesterday didn't turn out as I had planned. I didn't get home until 10:30 which left me little time to work on my projects. So today, in honor of it being H day and my favorite character begins with H (even if he hasn't shown up in this book yet), I decided to post a section from the first chapter of the last book. Although as I'm re-reading it I feel as it could do with a rewrite. One project at a time!