Unearth The Shadows

09

Amyra Ore Alerin | 11th day of Sprout season, city of Ceres

It was too early into Sprout season for the wind to blow so coolly across the street. The cold gust swept across dark cobbles, whispering where it struck angled edges of walls. Though the sky was still a gradient of dark blues thinning above the roofs of the edifices of the borough, the bell of the main chapel of borough was sounding. One, two, three, four times. Amyra muttered a prayer. May the Ancients take these men's souls to Purification peacefully, and forgive me I cannot pass utter my prayers in a proper chapel.

Guilt gripped her tightly. The mistress had summoned her and three men for the mission but Amyra only retrieved two bodies. Now both hopefully resting in peace inside the carriage stalled near the tavern. She could have been among the victims, too. These revolutionaries deserved at least a proper burning.

Amyra watched attentively the entry of the tavern as more victims of the fire were transported outside. She was running out of time for her—their—encounter with the Mistress. But Amyra could not leave a body behind like this. It was the ultimate sin.

But she didn't get to decide. From the opposite end of the road, a green carriage with thick wheels and walls fortified with a layer of meal drove to the tavern. The city guard. Ancients forgive me, I must go. She shook on the reins and the horses started moving to the streets adjacent to the tavern. Inside paths still stinking of fresh smoke burned wood, and alcohol. Even after Amyra was a dozen galops deep in them. The combination caused a smell of desolation smell to linger in the air.

Her heart was racing but she didn't turn around. Her neck was still achy from the blow she had received from Davir. And she realized that the farther she advanced, the tighter she gripped the reins. Her mouth was drying and her stomach fluttering. I'm panicking, and I know the green guard's presence isn't to blame. It was the thought of facing the Mistress. Even her fear of the horses pulling the carriage seemed dwarfed by what lay ahead.

Now, the buildings running the length of the roads appeared strange. Like the first day she'd arrived in the capital. After attempting to hand the heir to the rebellion, she couldn't count on the royal domain for shelter anymore. Ancients, I'd forgotten I was a stranger in a foreign land. But she had made her choice: her little sister Una. I'm not going back to the city of Dith without her. She glanced at the bag of coins tugging heavily at her waistband. The three hundred and sixty silver ceric she had gathered working as a nurse in the royal domain would better be used in buying a house to finally get Aunt Lena out of the slums of the fishing village. But I guess a big chunk of it will pay for my stay in the city as I look for Una.

Her resolve should be enough to keep all the guilt at bay. But now when she thought of the heir of the monarchy, Heron's image, the lonely boy who had lost his mother to the rebellion materialized in her mind instead.

She sent her horse into a trot down the forest paths, pushing the regret back before. Behind her, the carriage lurched audibly on an irregular cobbled way. I have struggled for bread and water all my life, and still, they took my sister. I cannot afford to pity someone who's been granted everything since birth. It's already been two years. Two years since had come to their village and taken Una away from them. Two years without touching her. Two years without seeing Aunt Lena. If she had to sell anyone else to the Mistress to take her life back, she was afraid she would.