When life steps this way

         The boots echo with thumps on the wooden floors, the slick rain drenched on them squeak across the floorboards. A rustle of cloth as a cape of a cloak is pulled off the person and set on a hook. It is mild green mesh cloth that hangs there and looked half-alive when soaked through, which was now. The slightly muddy puddle gathered in trickles run down from the hems, but was not paid a heed as the footsteps grew distant, taking a turn from the hallway into a study.
         An ivory-white hand let loose a short ponytail of auburn hair from its binding, fluffing it out to let it dry faster. With a flick of the second hand the fireplace at the end of the small room lit up, the aged, dry logs crackling nicely. The heat quickly dispersed and the soft yellowed light flickered over the bookshelves covering the walls as if in recognizing the familiar surroundings. The person sat in a cushioned redwood chair with a plop. A breath of relieved exhaustion passed through her dusty red lips. She was home.
         Kicking off her boots, the young-looking woman pulled off her stockings and jumped up before she sat, realizing her mud-stained breeches were probably giving the same favor to the chair. Grumbling with over-expressed fake anger, she lithely moved to her bedroom at the end of the hall and dug through the chest of drawers for some suitable clothes. She was to meet someone, later.
         Pulling out a dark blue two-set a journeyman musician would be likely to wear, she shucked off her traveled clothes and magicked off the dirt with several exaggerated brushes with a hand. “Thank you, thank you,” she muttered to the gods, extremely grateful she had bothered to learn earth magic. A confront with the mirror proved her hair couldn’t be willed better with a few swishes too. The girl sighed and snatched a handkerchief from a nightstand, tying it about her head like she was a village girl. She chuckled a little at the image of that, and then at herself, as she looked at the mirror and saw a fledgling girl with out-of-date clothes and an out-of-place scarf.
“Oh well,” she said to her reflection. “He’ll know I tried.”
         Turning on her heel, she glided out of the room with a grace unknown to true humans. Her appointment was in less then ten minutes, and she had arrived at this house just in time to get cleaned up before whisking out to join with her acquaintance.
         “When life steps this way,” she mumbled, opening the door and looking out across the wasted yard so common here in the city where no one was free. With practiced tone the mantra was repeated again, and the girl moved beneath the door’s supports and disappeared before her footfall could land outside the threshold.