Scum

Some people think that the world has been split in two. They're wrong.

He usually avoided crowded spaces, specially in days like these, when recent battles had left people shaken up and paranoid, making it hard to keep a low profile without looking like some silent threat ready to strike from the shadows. But, alas, with the ongoing battle near the forestal area, he couldn't risk hunting, and street vendors were not to be trusted; so here he was, in a small tavern, having a small meal, with no small money to pay with. But stealing from human-owned taverns was easy enough, and this one looked pretty neglected.

However, he was not a lucky guy.

As he ate, he noticed a group of men entering the establishment. Not friendly-looking men. And certainly not happy.

When he looked closely, he noticed that all members of the group wore the symbol of the rebellion: the silhouette of a dragon flying upward. He believed it was beautiful, had always loved dragons, saw them as majestic beings, but sadly the symbol meant bad news. These men possessed magic, and that wasn't ideal. Some kinds of magic could sense people like him, and alert the wielder of the possible danger they meant.

If that were to happen, he'd be in trouble.

For now, he decided to keep eating while observing them closely. His hood drew a shadow over his eyes, making it impossible to see where he was looking at, perfect for keeping an eye on the group while staying unnoticed.

He immediately noticed that there seemed to be a building tension between the men and the staff of the tavern. As soon as they sat down, they started debating whether to leave or stay. He could imagine the reason why. Members of the rebellion in a human-owned tavern? Ridiculous.

Of course, the fact that the owners were humans didn't make them guilty of any of the atrocities other... Not-so-tolerant humans had committed, but with the ongoing war many people associated humans and other magic-less species with the lab, so they weren't really liked among the magic people. At least it seemed like the men were now distracted, their conversation going from a debate about staying or leaving to a debate about politics and wether or not any human should be trusted at all.

Seeing they were distracted, he got ready to leave the place as quietly as possible, without alerting the group, or the owners of the place, after all, he was leaving without paying. That was, until he heard one of the men chime  in:

-Clearly, it's those dark magic wielders we should be blaming for what's happening! They're the ones who scare the humans, they're the reason why they think we're a threat!

He choked on his own spit. He choked on his own spit right as he passed by them.  Coughed. And only then did they seem to acknowledge his presence. And suddenly, everyone knew, because, apparently, they did have the ability to recognize people like him. And suddenly, he was running. Sprinting down those damn narrow streets built with jagged stones and filled with traitorous holes. He could see spells hitting the floor near him, pass right by his face, a missed fireball lighting up a merchant's stand.

And when I said he wasn't a lucky guy, I meant it.

While In the blur of speed and panic, he was only really able to see the flag. The head of an unicorn being shot down by an arrow, but it was enough. It was unmistakable. Anti-magic people, members of the lab. They saw his staff. A staff meant magic.

And suddenly, a sprint seems like an understatement compared to what this man was doing.

Both groups after him. One because a forbidden kind of magic ran through his veins, the other because he was carrying a magical item altogether, and for them that was unacceptable.

It really was a mess of panic and running, but he managed to avoid them by turning down a corner and casting an invisibility spell. Easier said than done, but, achieved. Even if it costed him a handful of blood he immediately coughed up. Casting invisibility without potions wasn't easy.

When he recovered, he wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand, and decided to climb up to a nearby rooftop to, while still invisible, take a look at his pursuers from the height it provided. They were fighting against each other now. Good.

He took a deep breath, finally allowing himself to relax, but not yet to call off the spell, keeping it on was draining, but if he were to be noticed, casting it anew would drain him even more. So he chose to wait and see, not lowering his guard.

He sat down, looked up at the setting sun, calming himself. He slowly took another deep breath, looked down to the street again... And saw her. And, somehow, she saw him. And waved.