Prompt: Finish this thought: "I didn't go to ____ looking for redemption,"
Source: modified from: creative-writing-solutions.com/creative-writing-prompts.html
I didn't go to the Spires looking for redemption. I don't know why anyone would - it itself possesses only a few redeeming qualities.
I slipped out without anyone seeing me, for which I was grateful. I was tired of being looked at like I was going to grow foot-long fangs and sink them into the nearest person. It was a long walk to the Spires, but it didn't bother me as much as it normally would have. I just thought about the heady scent of the place and the raucous conversation, the magic dancing and the parade of handsome young warlocks.
The climb was long enough to deter most of the uninitiated. The Spires are situated at the top of a gigantic cathedral - an ancient one, but it's much bigger than any mortal could build or even imagine. The building's massive spires cut right through the floor of the club while the ceiling rests on their points. The clouds usually cover it so even without magic, humans wouldn't think to look for it. They hardly ever look up.
To get to the Spires you have to climb up the side of the cathedral. Without magic you'd have to be Spiderman to get up there. Even with magic, it was a strain. I enjoyed it. For previous few days, no one had allowed me to do anything. They were all afraid of what I might do if they gave me any leeway.
I entered the dirty, warehouse-sized warily. I knew the crowd in the Spires would know what everyone else in the entire city seemed to know, but how they would respond to me was anyone's guess. I coughed as I came inside in reaction to the incense-smoke that floated in curls through the air - circling the pinnacles like holiday tinsel.
Everyone looked up, which was abnormal for the Spires, certainly, but nothing I wasn't used to. Still, it was a tense moment while I stared at them and they stared at me. Then Will, a twenty-something warlock with vibrant purple eyes, raised his glass in my general direction, leaning around the blond witch on his right side, "I'll buy you a drink, Dalia, if you promise not to bite me with your butt."
I grinned, allowing my tail to whip out. The nearest people flinched as the snake-head, Benji, at the end gave a hissing yawn. "Cross my heart, Will."
And just like that the room relaxed. All of a sudden I was laughing and drinking cider and one brave warlock was offering scraps of meet to Benji. And all I could think was - this is as strange a place as any to find forgiveness.
Notes: I'm not sure when I knew Dalia would have a tail . . . Anyway . . . I hope that I haven't lost all of my readers/participants . . . I know I've been a bit boring and hit-and-miss lately and I apologize. If there any suggestions for improvement of this project, I would love to get them.