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fangirl-inthe-us · 4 years

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One Last Stroll

Request: Ok, how about Geralt x reader: being close friends, he could drop by to get a good night’s rest or a descent meal at her home whenever he was in the area. She was caring for the orchards all by herself since the loss of her family, and he always admired her for pulling through on her own. But the last year had been really tough. Not seeing another way out, she was thinking of ending her life... An unexpected visit do not change her plans - one last night walk in the gardens with a rope in hand... @scorpionchild81

Pairing: Geralt x Reader (mostly platonic)

Author’s Note: I am so sorry that it has taken me this long to write this!! There are no words that I could even say that would convey how sorry I am. Life just had to go and screw things up and it took me ages! Thankfully, I eventually got it done and it’s here! I hope it was what you were looking for!

Warnings: I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH! THERE IS TALK OF SUICIDE IN THIS FIC!!! IF YOU’RE TRIGGERED BY THIS DON’T READ IT!!! There is some swearing too. But YET AGAIN THERE IS SUICIDE OR MENTIONS OF IT IN THIS FIC!!!

Word Count: 4K

Masterlist

I was walking down the road to the orchard. It was a beautiful sunny day. Visibly, there were no clouds in the sky. A light breeze blew past which would shake the green leaves and tree branches beside me. I was content at this moment.

The reason for my outing was my family. It had been a few weeks since I been over there and I knew that my mother would be ecstatic to see me. She helps my father with the orchard but she does little things. My father was very hands-on. This leaves my mother to have large amounts of free time. Thus, my visit will be very appreciated.

A nice breeze hit. I smiled while I felt my body cool. The dresses that I wore could get so hot and the sweet relief always made me smile and sigh.

I was so caught up in how amazing the breeze felt That I failed to notice the large mass that was blocking the road. Just before running into it, I opened my eyes. With mt gaze quickly landing on the mass of dark clothing, I could see that there was an outline of a body. The body was a man.

I stood there for a few minutes trying to figure out what to do. The man looked far too big for me to carry. I only wished that there was something or someone around to help me. There clearly was something the matter with this person and I needed to examine him further. Suddenly, there was a neigh.

A brown-haired horse came bolting out of the tree line. She was heading straight for me. It didn’t look like the horse was going to stop anytime soon. As fast as I could, I threw myself out of the horse’s path. This, however, was a moot point. Halting right before the man, the horse bent down to sniff the unconscious body.

“So, you know this man?” I cautiously approached the horse., I noticed that she was female.

I had gotten close enough that I stood at her side, “Hello, I’m just here to help this man. You seem to know the man,” As slowly as possible, I reached out to let the horse sniff my hand. “See, I’m not going to hurt you.” It was weird. Watching her, I noticed that it looked like she was listening to me.

I crouched down to maneuver the man around. Just simply moving the man took a lot of energy out of me. If this is how it was going to be, I was never going to get this man to my cottage. I lived clear on the other side of town and I was a ways away from my parent’s orchard. I had no clue as to what I was going to do. That was until the horse beside me knelt down.

I moved my attention to the horse. It was almost to say that she’ll help. I stood there in awe. How is it possible that this horse could understand me. It was even more surprising when she gestured with her head. It almost looked like she was pointing at the man and then to her back.

Regaining my composure, I attempted to do as the horse had gestured. The first attempt was me trying to pull his arms to get his body closer to the horse. This made this more difficult than before. I stopped immediately. Kneeling down, I wrapped my arms around the man’s torso. Using all my strength, I heaved the man to the horse’s back. When we were close enough, the horse started to nudge her head under his body. With her help, the two of us managed to get the man on her back.

It wasn’t my best job but he was at least on her back. I would have to keep an eye on him to make sure that he wouldn’t fall off. His chest was slung sideways on the horses back. It was an awkward and uncomfortable position. Thankfully, the man was unconscious.

With the horse’s help, we all made it to my cottage in a decent amount of time. Reaching my door, I stared at the man and the horse, then to my front door. The horse was most definitely too big to fit into my humble home. This meant I was somehow supposed to get the man into my house. That was when a brilliant idea hit me.

Rushing to the little shed beside my cottage, I pulled out A little red wheelbarrow. I pushed it to where the man and horse were. Leaving it there, I ran into my cottage and haphazardly threw some blankets on the floor.

Back outside, I struggled to get the man into the wheelbarrow. The horse couldn’t do much to help except lean a little to the side. Thankfully, this did help a little. I grasped the man’s shoulder and had him fall into the wheelbarrow. This worked but did not do anything to help the poor man. His body hit the red cart. Hard. The noise made a cringe-worthy noise. He’d get a nasty bruise.

From that point on, everything went smoothly. I got his body inside and on top of the blankets. Before I examined the man, I went out and gave the helpful horse a few carrots for her work and a bucket of water.

When I got inside, the first thing I noticed was that the man was awake. He was trying to sit up with great difficulty. My movement made the man stop where he was. His gaze flicked to where I stood. I watched as his eyes assessed me. When he saw that I was no threat, his shoulders loosened and he let out a huff.

“Where am I?” he questioned.

“You’re in my house. I found you passed out in the middle of the road. I haven’t had time to look at your wounds.”

“There’s no need. I heal quickly.”

“With all due respect sir, I think I should at least give you a once over. Quick healing or not, you still need to be fixed up.”

“Look at me. I’m a Witcher. There really is no need.” With a loud grunt, the Witcher finally pulled himself to fully sit upright.

“Oh, a Witcher. I see. Could I at least clean you up? It would help calm my nerves.”

I watched as the Witcher dropped his head. He let out a sigh. After a few seconds, he Looked up. his eyes met mine. They were just like a cat’s eyes. The glowing saffron color left me in awe.

A few more seconds passed when, finally, he nodded his head. I smiled at the gesture. Without hesitation, I was rummaging for my emergency medical equipment. It was essentially a bunch of bandages, a swallow potion, and a few healing herbs.

Sitting on the floor, I was a few inches away from the man’s thick bicep. I couldn’t see that there were any noticeable wounds. I looked at him and he raised an eyebrow. The only reply I gave him was a motion to lift his shirt up.

Instantly, The man was pulling his shirt off. My face heated up. I only wanted it lifted to check his wounds but now his whole upper body was on display for me. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t distracting.

His chest was littered with scars. I wasn’t completely unknowledgeable about Witchers. Just a few months ago, I had a Witcher come by. He was just as mangled. The Witcher career path wasn’t the kindest.

Looking more closely, I didn’t see anything wrong. That was until I looked at his back. My eyes landed on a nauseating gash that went across his back in three stripes. They were deep. For some odd reason, there wasn’t much blood gushing out. Most of it had dried. In curiosity, I looked at the back of his shirt. Sure enough, it was soaked.

I returned to the task at hand. Reaching for my medical items, I grabbed the alcohest and put a few drops on a cloth. I, ever so carefully, began to clean off the dried blood. I took extra care when I got close to the open wound.

After the wound was cleaned, I crushed up some herb in a mortar and pestle. I applied the past to the open wound with a light hand. Before I wrapped up the wound, I made sure to soak a few of the bandages with the swallow potion. The Witcher who was here previously here had taught me this. I figured it wouldn’t hurt the Witcher.

“What is it that you soaked the bandages in?” The Witcher leaned back and scowled at me.

I thought for a moment. “I believe its called Swallow.”

“Where did you find this potion?” The frown from his scowl deepened.

“I-Uh. I’ve had your kind here. He was here a few months back. He was the one who gave me the recipe.”

“Hmmm. Who was it? Did you get a name?”

“I did but I can’t remember the name. however, I remember that he had a wolf amulet like yours. He was rude at times. Though I would describe him as more Prickly. He had short brown hair, a tough build, and he had the same amulet as you. Do you know him?”

The Witcher chuckled. “That’d be Lambert. The bastard.” His words were harsh but there was a fondness to them.

“I take it you know him well.”

“I-Yes. Were from the same school. That’s why we have the same amulet. We trained together. We’re like brothers.”

“So, I know Lambert’s name. Is there any way that I could learn yours?”

The Witcher eyes me. It wasn’t in a malicious way but it was more in a curious way. “Geralt of Rivia.”

“Nice to meet you, Geralt. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Geralt took this as a sign to stop talking. There was an awkward pause. I was staring at the wall behind Geralt and I was pretty sure Geralt’s eyes were on my front door.

After a few more moments in silence, I pulled myself to stand. I grabbed Geralt’s black shirt from the floor. Looking from the shirt to my window, I saw that it was still light out. I might as well clean his shirt. I could have it dry ready for him the morning.

I grabbed a wooden bucket and made my way outside. To the left of my house, down a small hill, flowed a river. I dipped my bucket into the river and filled it up with water. Next, I was back in my house and pouring the water into the cast-iron cauldron. It would be a while until the water was warm so I decided to set up some bedding for Geralt.

With most of my chores done, the water had boiled And I dumped some into a bath. The Witcher thanked me and I left him to cleanse himself. With the remaining water, I used it to clean his shirt.

Once the Witcher was done with his bath, I gave him some dinner and we ate in silence. There were a few awkward stares and I’m pretty sure he caught me admiring his features a few times. I couldn’t help it. The man was gorgeous.

~.~

The night came and went. I was awakened by the sounds of small movements. Pulling myself up, I quickly got dressed and made my way to the living area.

Upon entering the open space, I saw that Geralt was up and packing his stuff. Roach was outside already saddled and ready to go. I knew that Witcher's were always on the go. They always were looking for jobs that provided a few coins. A Witcher's life was a hard one.

I knew there wasn't really anything I could say that would make him stay and heal. So, instead, I went to my kitchen and packed the man a few provisions for the road. Who knows how long it'll be until he finds work. He needed to keep his strength up for him to heal properly. Though, He was a Witcher who has a remarkable healing ability. I still wanted to give him something just too keep my racing thoughts at bay.

It wasn’t much, but I filled a small a sack with some bread, dried meat, and a jar of my parent’s apple butter. I also made sure to pack a swallow potion and a few bandages. With the items ready, I walked towards Geralt. I noticed he was finished packing up. I extended my hand out to him.

“I want you to have this. I know you’re not one to take these kinds of thing but since you refuse to stay and heal, I figured that I could give you something that will reassure me that you won’t die out there.”

He glared at me but, with a sigh, took the sack and stuffed it into one of His horse’s saddlebags. I flashed him a smile and he gave me a blank stare. Then there was an awkward pause.

“Hmm.” With that, Geralt was climbing on his horse and was riding off,

“Geralt! If you happen to be in the area just know that you always have a place to stay here!” I couldn’t tell if he had heard me or not. he gave me no indication that he had heard me. That was when I got a slightest of nods. Knowing that Geralt had heard me and acknowledged it made me hope that he would take up that offer.

~.~

It didn’t take him long to visit me again. A month later he was back and with a friend. I came to learn it was the famous bard Jaskier. He made sure to quiz me on everything I knew of Geralt. He came to be quite disappointed when I told him that nothing really special happened.

However, when I explained that I knew who Lambert was he got quite animated. I told him the few stories I had. Jaskier seemed to be more pleased with those. Watching the two of us interact. Geralt had the smallest smile on hid face. I’m pretty sure he didn’t know it was there.

The two had only stayed for a day. As quickly as they unpacked, they were repacking it all up. Before they left, Jaskier surprised me by giving me a big hug.

“Thank you for being so kind to him. Not many people do these days.” With that Jakier flashed me a smile and then chased after the white wolf who was already halfway down the road.

This happened quite often. I’d either get a visit from both Jaskier and Geralt or just Geralt. I didn’t mind. I enjoyed both of their company. It added something to my otherwise uneventful life.

my parents weren’t too pleased with me hanging around a Witcher. they didn’t seem as bothered after meeting him. He was quite nervous upon meeting them. Not many people are pleased to meet his kind. He had no idea how they would react but he calmed down once he saw that they accepted him.

Through all these visits, I had gotten to know the usually stoic Witcher. I found that he can be quite emotional. He just hides it well. It didn’t take me long h to get him to talk about his feelings. He hates it but admits that he feels better afterward.

Each visit from him I get a piece of his world and the things he had to go through. It brings us closer. I can’t fathom all that he has experienced. I always make sure that he is comfortable. I only wish that I can make things easier when he isn’t around.

I have lost count of how many times I have been visited by my lovely Witcher but I do know that I am filled with warmth when I see him ride up to my cottage.

~.~

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what to say. I was still in shock.

On my way to my parent’s orchard, I was going to spend the day with them. This was because I had been busy for the past two weeks and was unable to see them. However, when I reached the little house they lived in, they weren’t there. I walked all around the orchard trying to find them.

When I did find them, I couldn’t breathe. My eyes were glued to their bloodied corpses. I couldn’t breathe yet I let out a piercing scream. Their bodies were mangled and unrecognizable. The only way that I could tell that it was them was by their matching hats. They were discarded on the ground next to them.

I sobbed while I stared at their bodies. At some point, I had fallen to my knees. I couldn’t tell how long I was there but it must have been a while since Geralt had come looking for me.

He had stopped by for a day or two. I told him that I’d be back after a while. I also said I’d bring him some food. Specifically, my mom’s homemade applesauce and Apple cider. He wouldn’t ever get to try it now.

“Y/N?” He bent down to my level. “Listen to me. You need to breathe. You’re going to pass out and you’re not gonna be any help to anyone.”

Geralt grabbed my face and turned it to where My line of sight met his. This brought me out of it. Taking a deep breath, I sobbed even harder. Geralt pulled me to his chest. He then guided me to breathe. It was hard with my sobs but eventually, those calmed down.

“I’m gonna have to ask you a few questions. I need you to answer them, okay?” Geralt’s hands still held my hands and he was still looking into my eyes. His eyes held an expectant look. All I could do at that moment was nod. “Did you see who or what killed your parents?”

The words killed and parents had my eyes tearing up again. No stop. I took another deep breath and I blinked away the tears. “I-I didn’t see…” I sniffled and blinked away fresh tears. “They w-were just-.” Another deep breath. “I found them like that. There wasn’t anybody o-or anything.”

“Hmmm.” Geralt had let go of my head. His eyes looked away as his eyebrows furrowed.

Without moving, I watched as Geralt got up and walked towards what used to be my parents.

He walked around their bodies. His moves were calculated. He didn’t want to trample on any kind of evidence. He crouched down to examine their corpses and the area around them. Finally, he stood up and crept further away from the bodies.

“I don’t think it was a human that did this. Do you have any idea if they were having any animal problems or monster problems?” Geralt was now looking at me. His lips were turned downward in question.

“I don’t know. Not that I know of.” A sob wracked through my body, “I-I haven’t been over for t-two weeks. As I said, I have been quite busy and…” I took a deep breath trying to chase away the sobs, “I didn’t have any time to come over.” Geralt just hummed at my answer. He looked back at what I figured was an unseen path.

“You should head to safety. I have a trail. I’ll kill the creature and be back as soon as it’s done.” I was about to say something about his pay when he stopped me. “-And you don’t have to pay me a single coin.” With that, Geralt was walking off.

I stayed there for a few minutes as I tried to find the motivation to get somewhere safe. Besides the occasional sniffle and the wind blowing in the trees, there really wasn’t any other sound. I focused on the sound of the branches swaying. I took a few breaths. Then, I was pulling myself up and was walking to the little cottage my parents live in. Lived in.

Once in the cottage, I make sure to barricade the door. That front door wouldn’t open for anyone but Geralt. I can’t trust anyone. Geralt once told me that there are creatures out there that disguise themselves as humans. I wasn’t going to take any chances.

~.~

After a couple of hours of waiting and crying. I heard footsteps approach the front door. My breath picked up. Standing, I sneaked closer to the window. peering out, I saw that it was only Geralt. He was covered head to toe in blood. His sword was still clutched in his hands as his shoulders rapidly moved up and down.

Without another thought, I was removing the barricade that I had made hours ago. As soon as the barricade was down, I was ripping the door open and dashing out of it. Geralt looked up at me. He was still breathing heavily.

“The beast-”

“I don’t want to know. Just…” More tears welled in my eyes. I pushed them down. Are you alright?” All I got was a grunt as he made his way inside.

The large man was grabbing a cloth that was left on the table and was using it to wipe the blood off on his sword. Before he sat down, Geralt placed the now clean sword on the table. He rested his elbows on his knees and place his head in his hands. I did nothing but stand there and stare at the Witcher.

“Thank you.” I kept my eyes on him. Geralt looked up gave me a curt nod.

With that, he left. I figured I would see him when I returned home. Whenever that was. I had this feeling. Under all the other emotions, there was this feeling of numbness. I didn’t want to leave where I was. I really didn’t want to do anything. The feeling made me want to just stay there and wilt away.

I wanted the world to forget me so I could just disappear from existence. Hell, I wished that I never existed in the first place. Why should I go on? What’s the point in living now that I have no one. It’s not like anyone would care. That’s when I came up with a plan.

~.~

Eventually, I made my way to my cottage. It was only so that I could see everything one last time. I wanted to look over the quiet little space I had made for myself. It was calming in a way. I had control over this and it was nice to know that I got to see everything one last time. I made sure not to act too suspiciously around Geralt. If he found out what I had planned, he would surely try to stop me. I didn’t want that. This was my choice.

After walking through the place I had come to call home, I somehow found myself at my parent’s cottage. It had grown dark. I figured I could tie the rope around the tree where my parent’s remnants were found. I thought it was poetic in a way. It made me feel a little closer to them.

As I walked through the orchard, I ran my hands across the bark. I felt the rough and scaly texture and the velvety moss growing on it. I smiled a little. Reaching up, I felt the smooth yet slightly bumpy leaves. Occasionally, my fingertips would brush against an apple.

Upon reaching the spot, I paused. I took the sight in. The leaves rustling, the sound of crickets, and the breeze blowing by. I breathed in a deep breath and closed my eyes. This was the last time I would ever get to revel in this.

I opened my eyes. Then, I was moving towards the tree intending to kill myself.

Tags(if you want added you can send me an ask or add yourself here!): @scorpionchild81, @seb-owns-these-tatas, @summersong69

#geralt of rivia #geralt fic #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia fanfiction #Geralt #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher tv #Jaskier #roach

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fableweaver · 6 years

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Arc of the Little Saint

Demi had never been through the northern part of the holy city and was glad to be traveling with the Dontamen when she had. The northern part of the city was home to the slums and the poor, vast numbers of people crammed into a small space. This place had seen the most battles of the city, and so much lay in ruins. Many of the people had set up shanty houses or tents in the ruins, making a maze of the streets and buildings. Ippa stared out at the crowded streets and the crumbling buildings here in awe.

“I thought the holy city would be cleaner,” she said staring at the piles of refuse in alleyways. From the elephant’s back they had a good view of the streets and people.

“It is, this is just the poor parts of the city,” Demi answered, wanting Ippa to give the holy city a chance.

Since the elephants could only travel the wider streets they had a limited path they could take through the city. As they rode they came to a grand square where a fountain stood with a large pool. Ippa gasped to see the statue in the middle of the fountain and Demi blushed as well. She had never seen the famous statue of Dione, the demi goddess of love. She was completely naked, and carven with enough detail to appear lifelike.

People lounged around the fountain, some even swimming in it, and Demi spotted a few ochre women. Their hair and skin dyed red with ochre so they could be spotted in crowds, these women were sworn to spread love like Dione. Demi blushed to see some bearing their breasts, others with bare legs as they lounged around the fountains waiting for men to come to them. Ippa saw them and blushed looking away to the crowds.

“Do you see your family?” Ippa asked.

“They wouldn’t be here,” Demi answered staring out into the crowd. The nomads gathered in the south of the city, all the people here were Lonemen the stationary people of the desert. As they rode through the slums they saw many people, the sick, the old, the young, and many others. There were foreigners as well and Ippa gasped when she saw them.

“That one is completely white!” she shouted pointing at a man dressed in robes with silver coins hanging from the hems. His hair and skin were bone white and when he turned they saw his eyes were red. He wasn’t on foot; he rode a camel with a caravan of other Lonemen and slaves.

“That’s a mage of the north,” Demi said having heard of them but never seeing one. They rarely traveled so far south, and she wondered what brought the mage to Evalon.

“Mage?” Ippa asked. “What is a mage?”

“They have magic powers,” Demi said grinning, Tri had teased her with the same stories and she couldn’t resist doing the same. “They can make cloth fly and stones shine. I even heard they have turned men into toads.”

Ippa squealed and hid until they passed the mage but returned to gaze out into the city again. A deep bell tolled telling it was time for Pale Hour prayers. The people stopped like a tide halting, animals brought to a halt. Prayers were offered out in the streets with little ceremony, hand signs given to the sky. The prayers were short and soon everyone was moving again.

They were traveling south through the city, and at last passed a canal that separated the slums from the craftsman’s district. Here the buildings became nicer, and a strange mix between the Xinian style and northern style. Some windows had shutters instead of curtains, and the doors were square rather than the arch entrance typical of Xinian architecture.

The people were of better class, with nicer kaftans and healthier complexion. There were still a few shady people lingering in shadows, but the working class ignored them as they went about their business. They passed by a great bazaar, Demi and Ippa getting a great view of the market through the tall arched opening. The bazaar was in a hall taller than the elephants and covered in a mosaic of colorful tiles. They saw great tables and wagons covered in piles of fine spices, fruits of every color and shape, gems and jewelry, and silks and fine fabrics. The smell of curry and saffron mixed with the perfumes of jasmine and lily.

They passed the bazaar, Demi knowing there were many just like it over the city. The main road they followed lead out into another wheel of traffic, all centered around the temple of Lun. Demi made a sign of reverence as they rode by the great white temple dedicated to the goddess of the moon. Made of all white marble the temple was a great dome supported by tall pillars.

Clerics and holy women moved in and out of the temple, wearing Lun’s symbol and silver. Ippa stared, making a sign of reverence as well. They had to ride around the temple and on through the city some more. The buildings became nicer and Demi knew they were approaching the Arc.

Here in the holy city the wealthier lived near the water the life of everything in the desert. They emerged out of the buildings and saw the greatest view of the holy city. The Arc flowed before them in a wide swath, dark blue and clear in Sol’s light. Across the water was the peninsula; at the tip was Sol’s Temple.

A great dome plated with gold burned like Sol at the tip of the peninsula a true tribute to the Sun God. The rest of the peninsula was green, a jungle in the middle of a city. It was beautiful, reminding Demi of the Oasis of Hamil. The gardens were made on a hill of the peninsula, an artificial landmass made in the middle of the city. Boats and ships of every size traveled the river, some a wealthy lord’s barge and other’s a poor man’s skiff. The shore here was small docks and homes of the well to working class, verandas and gardens looking out over the water.

To the east Demi could see the hill that the palace sat on and Isra’s temple not far from it. Below the palace were the wealthy homes of the rich traders and lords of Xin, marble shinning in the sun. They were far from the palace so it was hard to see through the heat and dust on the horizon.

“How will we cross?” Ippa asked, the water was deep and far.

“There is a bridge to the west of here,” Demi answered.

Traveling along the river let the elephant’s cool their feet and be free of the press of the crowds. Demi and Ippa looked to the south, watching the green gardens and the ships sail slowly past. There were others in the water as well, bathing or cooling themselves in the great stream. Here the river never shrank and was always cool and clear water. Many said it was the blessings of the gods, now Demi guessed it was something more.

Sol rose higher in the sky as they traveled, and Demi knew it would take them a good part of the day to even reach the bridge. There were ferries that most people used to cross the Arc here, but of course none were big enough for the elephants. The bells tolled again to call for the High Hour prayers. In the middle of the day many took their leave of the sun, but just as many flocked to the river and canals to keep cool.

“It is so beautiful here,” Ippa sighed looking out over the gardens. “Do you know the history of the city?”

“My mother taught me much,” Demi answered. “The city has been fought over for centuries in the Cursed Age. The Regarians came and saw the riches of the desert, if they wished control of those riches they needed to get control of the Arc and thus the holy city. To those of Xin this place has always been sacred, always holy. The Regarians brought the word of the gods to us and we gladly took to them.”

“For we were like the desert dry and in need of faith,” Ippa said nodding; she knew how the Sect had come to Xin.

“Yes, but while we were willing to listen to the words of the gods we would not give the most holy of places to the Regarians. For an Age we warred with them, control of the holy city shifted season to season. Until the Green Man came.”

“Green Man?” Ippa asked amazed.

“In the north his is known as Absalom of the Deep Woods,” Demi answered. “The first High King of the Nine Kingdoms. He came and spoke to the Elders of the city; Evalon was once ruled by an elite few rather than one single king. He said he wanted peace, to make it so only trade would come to Xin and our holy city would stay ours.

“The elders agreed and sent a representative to the moot of Kings. He became our first king, King Loearuna of the Lonemen.”

“The king now is Nejem,” Ippa said.

“The Nejems took Xin’s throne from the Jiras,” Demi answered; “Who took it from the Loearuna early in the history of the kingdoms.”

“I take it there is a long story to all that,” Ippa said sounding a little bored with history.

“There is but, I do not know it,” Demi answered. “Our peoples have cared only that the holy city remains ours, we do not care who rules it.”

“True,” Ippa said turning back to the view. “Look, the bridge!”

Demi joined her and looked out to see the bridge spanning over the river. Great sandstone blocks covered in white crumbling plaster arched over the river, tall enough to let ships pass by under it. It was a grand structure, symbols to the gods painted or molded into the sides of the bridge. It was a northerner’s construct; Xinians did not have the knowledge to build such a large structure. Many people and animals lounged in the shaded water under the bridge, the water there coolest of all.

A great staircase led down into the water, which the elephants used to get up the bank and onto the bridge. Again, they were granted a fantastic view of the city and river from the bridge and Demi hurried to the other side to see the city to the west. Ippa joined her to see the rest of the city. To the west there were many guard towers and walls, the buildings lower under the wall. The river continued on beyond the wall to water the fields and farms downstream.

“What is that place?” Ippa asked pointing to the south west of them. Demi looked to see the great walled portion of the city.

“That is the slave district,” Demi answered and Ippa grew morose.

They rode on over the bridge and into the gardens. Great tall trees, strangler figs, rubber trees, eucalyptus, palms, magnolias, sandalwood, teaks, and even bamboo stood shading the road. The smell of vegetation and water was strong in the dappled shade, the traffic moved slowly as everyone wanted to savor the greenery. Ippa stared with her mouth slightly agape; she had probably never seen so much greenery in her life.

Birds chattered and sang like a crowd talking all at once, many visible in the branches of the trees. It was law in Evalon that once a bird roosted in these trees it would remain free and untouched, so many birds lived here. The same applied to monkeys, frogs, and other animals. Many people came and fed them, so it wasn’t surprising to see monkeys and birds crowding the road waiting for a treat.

Demi ducked into the tent and fetched some flat bread, Vega looking at her before going back to sleep. Demi tore up pieces and held her hands out. She didn’t have long to wait as a parrot flew down to land on her arm and begin to eat.

“You really are a Pinmen,” Ippa said impressed.

“They know me well,” Demi answered and pointed. Ippa laughed as she looked up to see a whole gaggle of parrots on the top of their tent waiting for some bread. “Watch,” Demi said with a smile. She tossed the bread up into the air and the parrots flew in great flock; not even a crumb fell to the ground.

They reached Eha’s temple in the middle of the jungle, and Ippa gasped to see it. The Goddess of the Dusk’s temple was an archway, the gateway wide and the marble carven into elaborate designs. The structure was a square but the opening a rounded arch, giving plenty of space for carvings in the marble. They passed through the gate, making signs to the goddess of the dusk.

They moved on through the jungle, passing other marble statues and sculptures along the road side. Ippa laughed at a monkey that sat on the head of a distinguished statue of a king. They reached the edge of the jungle once again crossing another bridge over the other branch of the Arc. To the west was the slave district, but Ippa and Demi turned to the east to look at the rest of the city.

Just before them were the docks, ships by the score gathered along the bank and wharfs. Warehouses stood by the docks, low stone buildings for the goods the ships brought. Further upstream stood the Temple of Cael; the grand tower standing tall over the warehouses. Beyond that tower was the merchant district, the homes of the wealthy merchants of Xin. A hill rose behind the merchant district, even larger wealthier houses of the lords of Xin rested.

Just visible over the city was the palace and Isra’s temple. They seemed to hover on the horizon, shimmering in the heat of the day like mirages.

The bridge did not lead to the docks or the merchant district however. Leaning out of the tent they could look ahead and see the nomad’s district. Here there were no permanent buildings but for the temples and the walls of the city. Tents covered the whole of the plain, colorful or drab, great or poor. The animals of the nomads gathered in corals, each type of mount getting their own space since some did not get along well with the other.

They reached the end of the bridge and walked out into the streets of the nomads’ district. Demi knew this place well and was already looking for the Pinmen camp. Palm trees shaded wells and the streets, monkeys and birds roosting in the trees.

“We will go to the Dontamen’s camp first,” Ippa said. “Then we can go look for your family.”

Demi nodded, and watched reluctantly as they rode through the tent city. Each tribe tended to group together near the corals where their animals were kept. Tents tended to take on characteristics of each tribe, Pinmen hanging feathers for instance. The streets were fluid but wide, the nomads liked going where they pleased.

The Wickerfolk camped near the bridge, rather than tents they lived in woven wicker huts that were just as disposable. There were many of the Wickerfolk, their boats either still in the canal or stored on shore since they could be easily carried. The Pridesmen made camp near the slave district where all their money was made. None of the Panthra were allowed in the holy city, so the Pridesmen made their camps alone in low domed tents.

Past the Pridesmen stood the Temple of Winds, dedicated to the four gods of the winds. The temple was a giant wind flute, a tall pillar carven with holes that caused a droning sound every time the wind blew through it. The gods of the winds were never depicted in physical form; they were believed to be sounds rather than had physical bodies.

Around the temple gathered the Galesmen and their wind contraptions. They had open tents pale in color, wind chimes singing everywhere. Past the Galesmen and the Temple of the Winds were the Dunesmen. They had a good portion of the city, their tents large but conservative in color. It was slightly military here, the Dunesmen never relaxed. Ippa stared at a fighting ring where several Dunesmen were practicing with their sabers.

They rode on through the Dunesmen’s camp to the Horse Lords’ camp. Their camp was more opulent but just as large, great pens for their herds. In the middle of their camp was Mercore’s Temple. The demi god of travel was the most sacred of the gods to the nomads so here the temple was the greatest in this part of the city. The temple had four tiers, four long staircases leading up to the altar. The white sandstone was painted blue and green, kept clean and beautiful from dust.

They rode up to the temple, bells were sounding again to call for the Burning Hour Prayers. They got down off the elephant and joined the crowd around the temple and offered their prayers to the demi god. Mounting up again they set out past the Temple of Mercore. Next to the Horse Lords were the Llemen, their tents well-kept and camels pampered. They had few pens for other animals, so goats wandered around freely.

Past the Llemen were the Pinmen. Demi leaned out of the tent precariously as she gazed out at the familiar tents. They were all colorful, and many bird perches stood with tropical birds roosting and feeding at the offered seeds. The Pennam were gathered in a pen, many tribes gathered here. Demi did not see her family but the Pinmen camp was great, they could be there still.

Past the Pinmen camp was the Zarman camp. Here the tents were modest in color but not in size, Testudines resting in the sun. The Zarmen did not bring the Hannah into the city; it was too dangerous to bring such predators among the other mounts. They neared the hill where the wealthy lived and this was where the Dontamen had their camp. Their tents were great and they had a good amount of space for their elephants.

They found a space to set up camp and began unloading the elephants. Demi stood by with Ippa, waiting for the men to be done with setting up camp. She kept looking back towards the Pinmen camp as Sol began sinking low in the sky. At last Hamid came over to them, the camp set up and the elephants tended to.

“It is near our Ebbing Hour prayers,” he said looking at Demi apologetically. “I think it best we rest for the day and we can begin the search for your family tomorrow. It is dangerous in the city at night.”

“Of course,” Demi said disappointed. They went to one of the tents and sat for supper, Ippa and Demi had been too excited through the day to eat. They dined on a fair feast, pilaf, grilled goat, stewed squash, flat bread, goat cheese, and spiced pineapples. After supper it was time for their prayers, they went out and offered their prayers to the stars. Afterwards Hamid insisted they go to bed, both exhausted from their travel and excitement.

Demi fell asleep easily despite her anxiety, her sleep dreamless and peaceful. The next day she woke well before dawn and woke Ippa as well.

“What is it?” Ippa asked sleepily.

“Come on, I’m going to look for my family,” Demi said. “Let’s go before your father wakes.”

“Alright,” Ippa said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. They dressed and grabbed a few oranges for breakfast. They quickly cast their rising hour prayers to the sky. Demi grabbed a stick and carried Vega on her shoulder. They hurried out of camp, only a few other people were stirring. Demi led the way back towards the Pinmen camp, but it took longer on foot. Nearly an hour later they reached the Pinmen camp, Sol starting to rise.

Demi led the way, walking among the tents and looking for a familiar one. For most of the morning they circled through the camp, but Demi did not see a familiar tent anywhere. The Pennam all were different, their saddles and feathers marked to show what tribe they belonged to, but none were of the Kartal tribe.

“Don’t worry, you’ll find them,” Ippa said after their Pale Hour prayers. “Maybe they’ve camped somewhere else. Here,” Ippa said holding out her purse string which held several silver royals and some copper pieces.

“For what?” Demi asked.

“I would feel naked without my ivory, I am sure you feel the same without your feathers,” Ippa said with a smile. Demi smiled back to her gratefully and took a few coins. She went up to a feather merchant who was selling many colorful feathers and some Pinmen kaftans. She bought a new kufiyah, a handful of feathers, a kaftan, and a new sash embroidered with a feather pattern.

“I’ll trade you all of this for that shawl you’re wearing,” the merchant said as Demi started to take off the fine Dontamen indigo shawl she wore. She turned to Ippa who nodded; it would save her coin it seemed. Demi handed it over and dressed, feeling better to wear familiar clothes. “You are a Pinmen right?” the merchant asked.

“Yes sir,” Demi said. “My tribe is the Kartal tribe and last rested at the Oasis of Hamil. I was separated from my family and have been traveling with various tribes until I got here. I am looking for my family; they were supposed to be here weeks ago.”

“The Kartal tribe?” the merchant said seeming to think. “No, I’m afraid I haven’t heard of anyone from there arriving. Keep looking, maybe someone else has heard something.”

Demi nodded and continued on. She and Ippa continued to search the camp, but Demi didn’t see any familiar faces or Pennam. After High Hour prayers they ate at a food stand, goat stew, flat bread, and mangos. They rested through the hottest hours of the day in a common tent.

“We should ask around like that merchant said,” Ippa said and Demi nodded.

Their search continued Demi questioning other merchants and Pinmen. Sol began to sink in the sky and after Burning Hour prayers Demi called a halt.

“We said nothing when we left, your father must be worried by now,” Demi said.

“You’re right,” Ippa said. “We’ll come back tomorrow.”

“No one has seen them,” Demi said as they started to walk back to the Dontamen’s camp.

“There are many people here,” Ippa said.

“But my family would have gotten here months ago,” Demi said.

“Maybe they left,” Ippa said. “We should ask those that have been here since then, maybe they know when they left.”

“My mother was sent here to get answers for the omens,” Demi said shaking her head. “She wouldn’t have left until she learned something.”

“Maybe she did,” Ippa said. “We should ask about the omens as well.”

Demi sighed; she could only feel hopelessly alone. They returned to the Dontamen’s camp and got a scolding for going off alone. That night at dinner they shared a tent with the other Dontamen from the desert. Tales were being told and news shared. At first the talk concerned the rains and when they would come, until Hamid called for attention.

“Friends, we have a visitor from the Pinmen with us,” Hamid said, and everyone turned to him. “She is a lost one and has a long tale to tell. Demi.”

Demi felt her face grow hot as everyone looked at her, but she took her place in the center where the story teller was. She told her tale as best she could, everyone listening with rapt attention. When she finished she bowed and was about to retreat when someone asked a question. Before she knew it, Demi was answering a thousand questions, details of her story she had forgotten. They spent most of the night on Demi’s story, and she was hoarse by the time they finished.

Little did Demi know this was just the beginning. During the next few days she went in search for her family, but still learned nothing from those she spoke to. But word had spread in another way, from the Dontamen her story spread and wherever she went people asked to hear her tale. Soon at every meal time or just after prayers Demi was dragged to one camp or another to tell her story. Not just to the Pinmen, but to all the nomads.

She could see how the tale was popular, it was a modern-day Tales of the Lost, a wanderer facing dangers and guided by the gods. But it seemed more than that. Demi had kept out the ideas she had about what Slad had told her about the origins of the Arc, but she kept Slad in the story. The news of the Phay marching seemed to inspire people, and Demi saw elders and young alike seeming to come alive with the idea.

The news of change was interesting enough, but Demi realized it was more than that. It was the idea that there was something greater out there, that there were spirits other than themselves who were intelligent as well. Beings that as old tales said were great and powerful in the ways of nature and arcane arts. It was news of change and something beyond the ordinary.

Demi went from camp to camp daily on requests to tell her story so much she soon lost the time to continue her hunt. Umat and Ippa went with her everywhere, Demi feeling a bit strange to be escorted like she was someone of import. Her search going astray Demi was ready to give up after ten days.

“You can stay with us,” Ippa said that night as she combed Demi’s hair. Her hair was only shoulder length, but longer than Ippa’s peach fuzz. “I know my father would accept you.”

“Maybe,” Demi said despondently. She knew the way back to the Oasis of Hamil, but without someone to take her she would never reach it. But her tribe would have moved on by now and she had no way of knowing which oasis they moved on to.

“You’ve looked everywhere,” Ippa said.

“No, there is one place we haven’t looked yet,” Demi said realizing she was right.

“Where?” Ippa asked.

“The slave district,” Demi answered and Ippa gasped. “If my family was captured by Pridesmen they would end up in the holy city to be traded, it is where most slaves end up since this is where the market is.”

“Wouldn’t the Pridesmen just keep them?” Ippa asked.

“The Pridesmen sell slaves, they only keep a few,” Demi answered.

“Umat will never let us go to the slave district,” Ippa said.

“That is why I need you to distract him, so I can get away tomorrow,” Demi answered.

“I won’t let you go alone!” Ippa argued.

“I’ve faced Pridesmen, sandstorms, hyena, crocodiles, and even a Phay spirit,” Demi said. “I can face the slave district. They’re my family Ippa not yours.”

“You’re my friend!” Ippa said.

“So I need you to stay behind and send Umat after me if I don’t come back,” Demi said. “I’ll take Vega with me, don’t worry.”

“I will worry,” Ippa said churlishly. Demi smiled sadly and hugged her, grateful for her support. The next day, after pale hour prayers they set out into the city again, Umat walking alongside them with a spear resting against his shoulder. When they reached the Temple of Mercore Demi nodded to Ippa.

“Ouch!” Ippa said, maybe a bit too dramatically, and stumbled.

“Ippa, what’s wrong?” Umat said helping her stand.

“My sandal,” Ippa said hopping around on one foot and drawing Umat’s attention away. Demi slipped off into the crowd silently, Vega still perched on the stick she carried. The crowds were thick around the temple; it was a meeting place of many roads after all. Demi got away quickly, walking fast but not running.

On foot it took her a long time to walk the distance to the slave district. Shortly after High hour prayers she stood at the end of the bridge that led to the slave district. The crowds were just as thick, but many of those coming and going were Chainmen. Pridesmen led groups chained together over the bridge and to the heavily guarded district.

Over the south, on another island, stood the temple of the two demi gods Mavors and Saepit; a grand guard tower where the holy cities knights and warriors lived. The demi gods of war and guardians were the patrons of warriors, and so the guards of the city made home in their temple.

Demi took a deep breath and walked out onto the bridge. The slave district was well guarded with a thick wall, more to prevent the escape of slaves than to guard against attack. Entering the gates Demi balked at the smell of this part of the city. Stripped of the smells of spices and perfume, all that remained was the overall reek of humanity crammed into a small space. The buildings were low like barns, and as Demi walked past a few where the great doors stood open she saw people crammed into the buildings. All were Chainmen.

Looking around at the wash of humanity Demi wondered how she could find her family in all this. She never knew so many people were enslaved and had been born into slavery; wandering for an hour she still couldn’t find her family. She feared asking questions lest she attract attention. Slaves and Pridesmen were not the only ones here. The guards of the city loitered around, armed with fine sabers and bronze mail.

There was also the Lonemen, the wealthy looking to buy their slaves. Some seemed to be servants of the wealthy, prideful and servile at the same time. Demi felt very out of place, none of the other nomads were here.

She noticed something else as well among the slaves, men in burlap cloaks whispering to the other slaves. She recognized them as like the man from Kurone, the rotted man named Jerimiah of Dalton. She was surprised at how many there were, almost every building had one man like them in it. Some were chained, and others huddled in corners begging for alms. They were lepers, people avoiding their bandaged wrapped limbs and putrid odor.

Demi emerged into the market square and stopped in awe. A great stage was set up in the middle of the square and there an auction was going on. Slaves were brought forward, and bids were called out, the overall noise of the crowd deafening. Demi looked at those up for auction but again none were her family. She moved on, Sol growing high in Empyria. Prayers were not held and Demi feared stopping to pray so she gave her prayers while she walked.

The people she passed seemed desolate, without hope, crushed under the weight of their chains. Some still bore their henna telling of their tribes or place of origin, others seemed so drained of individuality they seemed like husks. There were men, women, even children, all bearing the brand of a chain somewhere on their bodies. They wore the poorest of clothes, some even naked except for the manacles that bound them. Her heart was breaking at every empty stare she met.

“Demi!” she whirled at the sound of her name and saw her mother standing at the end of the street. She wasn’t in chains, still wearing her kaftan and feathers in her kufiyah. Demi cried out and ran, Vega giving a squawk and flying off her perch. Hemi ran to meet her, scooping her up in a warm hung. Demi felt tears burn her eyes as she buried her face in her mother’s breasts. For a long time, they just held each other, Demi drinking in her scent of jasmine and pepper. At last they parted, Hemi smiling down at her warmly.

“How did you get here?” Hemi asked.

“That’s a long story,” Demi answered. “Where is everyone else?”

“I sent them back to the oasis,” Hemi said. “We could not stay here long if we remained in numbers.”

“Mother,” Demi said hugging her again. Hemi sighed heavily as she held her, rubbing her back soothingly.

“You aren’t a slave, are you?” Hemi asked worried. “I’ve come here every day looking for you.”

“No, are you?” Demi asked. “How have you lived in the holy city all this time alone?”

“I’m not a slave, come let us leave this horrid place,” Hemi said.

Demi nodded as she took her mother’s hand. Hemi took up the perch and waved to Vega who swopped down to land on the perch. Demi felt such utter relief to know her mother was alright, and eager to tell her tale.

“When I realized we lost you all I could do was send Vega back to you,” Hemi said as they walked. “I am so sorry Demi.”

“You saved me though mother,” Demi answered. “Vega saved me. What happened after we got separated?”

“We traveled on,” Hemi answered. “The Pridesmen grew thicker as we rode north; we had to avoid many hunting parties. We reached Evalon at the end of the month of Vina. After a few weeks of searching I realized it would be best to send our family back, this quest will take a long time. I’ve made my way in the merchant district tending to a wealthy merchant’s pet birds. Every day I came here searching for you, dreading the day I saw you in chains. What of you? When did you arrive? How did you escape the Pridesmen?”

“That is a very long story…” Demi began to say just as they arrived at the market square. She stopped when she saw a man stepping up onto the platform of the slave market. He was one of the rotten men, flies buzzing around him. She wondered what a rotten man was being sold for when one of the guards shouted.

“Get off there scum!” The guard shouted but the man ignored him. He threw off his burlap cloak to reveal his body was covered in sores and peeling off his flesh.

“Brethren!” the man shouted in such a powerful voice Demi saw dust stir. Stillness reached the crowd as all heads turned to the man. “Rise up my brethren in chains. It is time to claim what was stolen, your freedom!”

He raised his arms bound in manacles and an iron chain and tore the bindings like they were rope. Slaves shouted, and chains rattled as men charged at the guards. Demi turned to see the streets filling with slaves rattling their chains. Hemi shouted as she pulled Demi along, Vega taking flight. The crowd erupted in chaos, women screaming and people running. Hemi struck out with the stick Vega had perched on, using it to club her way through the panicked crowd.

Demi gripped her hand suddenly afraid to be separated from her mother again. They pushed their way through the crowd, moving like swimmers through a stormy sea. Someone pushed Demi from the side and she lost hold of her mother’s hand. She heard Hemi shout, but she had to think on keeping her feet or she would be trampled.

Suddenly she was out of the crowd, stumbling into an empty space before the stage. There stood the rotten man, covered in gore from several dead guards around him. He saw her and his eyes flashed with a strange shadow.

“Who are you?” he asked as his eyes narrowed. Demi couldn’t answer as she looked for a means of escape, but the crowd was still thick though fleeing. Several more slaves leapt down from the stage, all strong looking men though they were still bound with their chains. “I said who are you?” the rotten man repeated as he advanced on her.

Vega dived out of the sky like an angel of victory, clawing at the man’s eyes. He shouted angrily, not in pain, and lashed out at Vega. His fist caught the vulture and she fell to the cobblestones in a burst of feathers. Demi felt a moment of fear suffused with anger. She rushed forward and attacked the man with her fists.

He laughed and grabbed her with a grip like iron, pinning her arms to her sides and lifting her up effortlessly. Demi saw his eyes darken with a shadow and felt her body go cold. Her hands and feet went numb as the heat of her body leached out of her. The man grinned opening his mouth as if he intended to eat her. Demi shivered at the black maw that opened, all light seeming to leech away into that darkness.

Then he stopped, his eyes widening. Demi felt something in her stirring in response to this power, this hunger. Not a light or a similar power to it, something so indescribable it could not even compare.

“Divinity,” a voice that was not the man’s but came from him whispered. “You are a new deity.”

Then that darkness fled, not just from her but from the man as well. He dropped her, falling to his knees before her. Demi watched astonished as his skin suddenly healed the boils and rotten flesh healing over as if it never was. His eyes cleared and he looking up at Demi with tears in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered and began to weep. Demi felt compelled to show him some comfort and put her hand on his head.

“What did you do?” Demi turned to see one of the slaves standing over her, his golden eyes wide. He had been a Pridesmen, a failed warrior telling by his shaven head. Demi reached out to him, she didn’t know why, and touched the manacles around his wrists. With a soft click almost like the sigh of a babe going to sleep, the manacles fell from his wrists. The once slave raised his arm, staring at his hand as if he had never seen it before.

Demi heard the rattle of chains and more slaves approached her. Hands touched her gently, not groping or pulling, but soft touches as if they feared she would break. Every hand that touched her, their manacles fell away. Demi didn’t feel any overwhelming power in her doing this, they just touched her, and the locks were free. She didn’t understand what was happening but thought it best to just let it happen.

And then she remembered her mother and Vega. She pushed her way through the crowd and they parted easily from her. She moved to where Vega fell and found the vulture laying on the stones. Her heart in her throat Demi knelt next to the vulture and felt her chest. She felt the soft flutter of her heart and the slight movement of her chest, she lived.

Nearly weeping Demi took off her sash and wrapped it around Vega, lifting her up into her arms. The palm nut vulture was a large bird, her wingspan was nearly as long as Demi was tall and lifting her was no small feat. All the time the slaves did not cease in their soft touches to Demi’s head and back, but she found she could ignore them. She turned then to look for her mother, but the press of slaves around her was too great.

Demi thought then of the platform and knew if she was to spot her mother it would be from there. She hurried through the crowd and they parted to let her pass, Demi feeling them follow after her, their hands tugging at her kaftan like the wind. She got to the platform and climbed the stairs; no one followed her from there. She hurried up to the platform and looked out over the crowd and balked.

The square was full of slaves, many shaking their chains and looking up at her imploringly. She put Vega down gently and stood before them on the stage. They were shouting, chanting and Demi stared in shock.

“Chain Breaker! Chain Breaker! Chain Breaker!”

Chain Breaker, Tí Re Laricar, the man that had set free over a thousand slaves and led them to paradise in the desert; they were calling her Chain Breaker. Demi looked out over the crowd seeing nothing but slaves. If her mother was still in the square Demi couldn’t see her. Movement and shouts at the far end of the square drew her eye and she looked out to the street that led to one of the gates.

A line of soldiers was marching down the street, a captain at the head telling by his bronze helm with a white plume. They would be there in moments and the blood shed would begin. They wouldn’t kill many but they would kill enough to get the crowd in line.

“Beware!” Demi shouted, sure that no one would hear her over the chanting. But the moment she spoke the crowd fell silent, Demi feeling all eyes on her. “Beware,” she said again, putting effort in controlling her voice so it was strong and did not waver. “The soldiers are coming, you must flee.”

“Chain Breaker! Lead us to freedom!” Someone in the crowd shouted. Demi could see women in the crowd now, even some children on the strong shoulders of men. She felt tears well up, fear and compassion for these people.

“The greatest freedom is in life itself!” Demi shouted. “They can never take that from you!”

Then the guards arrived in the square. The captain shouted orders, Demi too far to hear them exactly, and the guards moved out into formation. The crowd shrank back, women crying out and Demi saw the guards draw their sabers.

Someone grabbed her from behind, lifting her from the back of her kaftan. Demi cried out as they held her out over the crowd, and she heard them collectively gasp and moan.

“Deceiver!” the man that held Demi shouted. She turned her head to see he was another rotten man, his eyes mad and empty. “Brethren do not let this liar lead you from your freedom. Take up the chains that shackle you and stand against those who steal your liberty!”

He shook Demi, and she reached up instinctively and grabbed his wrist to hang on. She felt that strange sensation again when she touched his skin and she felt his grip go lax. A woman screamed but Demi managed to grab onto the edge of the stage before she fell. She pulled herself up onto the stage shakily and looked at the man that had held her.

He was staring at her wide eyed, his skin healing of the leprous flesh that afflicted him. Demi looked back at the crowd, seeing them staring up in awe. The guards and their captain were staring as well, mouths hanging open. Demi stood again and raised her hands to hold their attention.

“I call for peace, do not throw your lives away!” Demi called out.

A chain fell with a rattle, and soon thousands joined it. The slaves fell to their knees before her, weeping and crying out. Demi felt glad no blood was spilled, but at the same time she felt a sour taste in her mouth. She felt like she had lied to them; that she had captured them in their prison just as the Pridesmen and other slave traders had done.

“Thank you,” the man said, and Demi looked at him. He was on his knees before her, his forehead on the ground in the lowest groveling pose.

“Please get up,” Demi said heartbroken.

“You freed me, you saved my soul,” the man said but Demi wasn’t sure she had done that at all. A shouted order drew her attention back to the crowd and she saw the guards were moving through the crowd now. Some were going about gathering the slaves again, their sabers sheathed as they tried to guide the weeping people away. They seemed almost shocked as well, glancing over at Demi, but she could not read their expressions from the distance.

The captain however was marching over with five other guards, the crowd parting to let him past. He covered the distance quickly and as Demi turned to gather Vega in her arms again he was already mounting the steps. He marched up on stage and Demi got a good look at him now.

He wore sandals and a cotton kaftan under a coat of bronze mail. Over the mail he wore a breastplate of polished bronze, Sol’s sun emblazoned in the metal. His helm was round and embossed with intricate details, a white plumed feather from an ostrich toping it. He was a handsome man, a Lonemen without henna or marking. His skin was dark like Demi’s but his eyes were blue, telling of foreigner blood in his line.

He marched up to Demi and loomed over her, his cold blue eyes looking down at her seeming to glow from the shadow of his helm. Then he turned away to look at the man that had attacked her, he still knelt prostrate.

“Chain him,” the captain ordered his men and they took the slave and chained him. “Who are you?” He asked the man who let the guards manacle him without complaint.

“Zackary,” the man answered.

“And are you a member of the Legion of Creed?” the captain asked.

“I was,” Zackary answered and looked up at Demi. “Until I was freed.”

The captain looked at Demi frowning and then back at the guards that held Zackary.

“Take him to the temple of Sol, his fire will find the truth from this man,” the captain ordered and the guards nodded as they dragged the man away. Demi held Vega tighter as the captain turned back to her. “Who are you?”

“Demi rah Kartal,” Demi answered in a small voice.

“Are you with the Legion?” the captain asked and she quickly shook her head. “How did you heal that man?”

“I don’t know,” Demi answered. “Please I need to find my mother; she was here when the riots started.”

The captains frown grew deeper and Demi feared he would order her taken to the temple of Sol. He reached out and she flinched away from his hand as he grasped her by the chin and made her look at him. He stared at her and Demi felt her cheeks begin to flush under his regard. At last he let her go, shaking his head.

“I am no holy man,” he muttered. “I am taking you to Euria’s temple.”

“Why?” Demi asked astonished. Euria was the most holy of the gods to the Xinians, they favored the goddess of rain over all the other gods. Her temple was just near the palace where she needed to go. But Demi needed to find her mother first; she could have been hurt from the riots.

“You just performed a miracle before a thousand witnesses,” the captain answered; “Healing a man of leprosy in an instant. Only the Grand Sect can determine if you really are a miracle worker.”

Demi was speechless, staring at him in awe. She hadn’t thought what she had done was a miracle, she wasn’t even sure she had done anything. Yet she knew she could not escape, if she tried this man would put her in chains. At least he wasn’t taking her to Sol’s Temple, where she was sure torture would be used to get the truth from her. Since she herself did not know the truth she hoped the Grand Sect would be able to see answers she could not.

“What is your name?” Demi asked not sure why she did.

“Captain Makar,” he answered. “Captain of the Fifth Battalion.”

Demi shivered, there were twelve battalions that guarded the city; the fifth oversaw the slave district. As a captain Makar commanded a hundred men of the eight hundred that made up the entire battalion. He was only answerable to the General of the Fifth Battalion; Makar was a man of standing then.

“I will personally see to your safety,” Makar said, and Demi looked up at him a little surprised to see he was earnest.

“Very well,” Demi said as she bowed her head to him. “I’m in your care.”

He motioned for her to go first and followed her, Demi feeling his shadow loom over her. Holding Vega close to her chest she walked on to another journey.

#fantasy #series #please read #writing #fairies #dragons

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