Our Land of Moonlit Dawn

Chapter Four: The Candles and The Phoenix

Siulan's basket no longer hung so vacantly as she walked leisurely around the encircling stalls. Their morning was fruitful, with many fresh produces and products from as far as beyond La Xing to just down-stream on the frozen banks of the Rypele, lining her basket.

She had by now, resorted to leashing her little nephew by his wrist to hers – a soft length of ribbon separated the crowd as he ran to and fro, but it relieved much anxiety off of her. Despite this, she needn't have worried at all: Godes S'ey was a country unaccustomed to such things as crime, and was small enough in itself for it to be almost non-existent. Conceptually, everyone knew everyone, and news as fresh as but seconds ago, could travel to every ear in a hypnotising pattern not unlike that of a ripple: A speed of information that S'eyans found increasingly amusing when it regarded travellers, newcomers, or to whichever unfortunate soul came to be the embarrassed subject of a particularly exaggerated rumour. Ever and herself in particular, were known not as trouble makers but the adventurous children who against common counsel, became synonymous with the La Xing mountains.

Miro now stood before a kindly candlemaker in the quieter part of the market, staring in awe at a box of waxen animal models. The woman watched fondly as he caressed the smooth curve of little deer and then sniffed at his hands, infant and unblemished in contrast to hers so scarred. Leaving him to his entertainment, she turned her attention to Siulan who had decided the number of candles their combined houses might need that week. As the candlemaker busied herself with packaging the goods and preparing the exchange, Siulan let her gaze sweep across the area in daydream. 

Between the crowd, her eyes drew to a figure at the stall of an oil and grain vendor. She recognised her, a girl that had joined her class in later years at the small school she had attended, though they had since graduated. Alea Jabez, as she understood her name to be. Admittedly, Siulan did not know much of Alea, and never had the audacity initiate any conversation with with her either, but for reasons unknown to Siulan, she found herself loosening the cloth around her wrist as gravity delicately leant towards the situation around her odd peer.

The haggle between Alea and the vendor seemed to heighten, the expressions of their argument not quite reaching her ears through the community between them. Suddenly, she snatched something from the table and dashed off through the crowd. Siulan saw the man's mouth open wide in a shout higher than his usual tone of price advertisement: a whisper, from her position. But she could read what erupted from his distress.

"Thief!"

Siulan turned to the candlemaker, sliding off Miro's leash completely and handing it to her, also depositing her basket with the boy.

"I'm, uh, very sorry Ma'am, but there is a commotion it seems. Would you please look after Miro for me while I am gone? I promise that I should not be kept long."

The woman did not dispute to the arrangement, but stared slightly in bewilderment as her customer darted off and quickly dissolved into the thinning crowd.

Siulan slid easily between the adults, ducking under and around those who were not bothered enough by a little theft to give chase. She made it across the courtyard and stumbled into a narrow alley flanked by a pair of buildings. She saw Alea, inching along the walls where no man, and especially woman, could fit. Despite her haste, the journey was still tediously cautious. Siulan untied her skirt from her waist and fastened it around her neck, freeing her legs for full commitment to the pursuit instead as she entered the alley. She moved a little faster than Alea, with her skirt to protect her shoulders and no baggage to shelter.

"Stop! Alea!"

Of course, she did no such thing and only hurried further.

"Why are you stealing? The rest of us pay, why shouldn't you? We work hard to make the grain you are stealing."