Devryn - "The
Chains We Bear"
The morning air was
cool and carried the dust of the land on its wispy breath. If not for the
aches and fatigue, I might have enjoyed the light-splintered sky. If only.
. .
Seth strolled out
from the tunnel's shaded entrance smiling, flipping his wrists around to flaunt
his freedom. His tall, bony frame said he was not a pure Tressian and
right now I wouldn't mind cracking open that smug face to find out. He
walked with a quick but mindful bounce through the rubble, one I have seen
displayed by plenty of skilled pickpockets maneuvering through crowded
streets.
Seth jumped up to a
large slab. "You gents sleep well?"
I looked down the
bridge. Dark patches on the stone said only the dead slept last night.
"Time to get
outta here," Seth said in a lighthearted tone.
I wasn't sure that
statement included me until he sat down in front of me and directed me to also
sit. Seth slipped a slender strip of metal into the leg-chain lock's
keyhole and began working the mechanism.
"You've been
locked up a few times before?" I inquired.
Seth looked up as his
hands continued to work, "Ahh, you know. People get the wrong
idea."
I watched him test
the pressure back and forth. My stomach was grumbling with complaint but
all I could think of was being grateful for Seth's past indiscretions.
"Interesting
tattoo. A guild thing?" Seth nodded toward my chest.
I looked down to see
what he was talking about. I don't have any tattoos. I could see
under a tear in my undershirt a set of dark lines. Pulling away the
shirt, a spiraled swirl spun around an odd symbol in black ink over my heart.
"Gods be
cursed," trying to understand how this was possible.
Tae-gron broke the
awkward pause. "You girls hurry up braiding each other's hair so we
can get out of here." Tae-gron stood on his platform with arms
crossed. His dark Madraderian complex and knotted muscles made for an
imposing form. His black, curly hair was cropped close. The hazel
eyes seemed the softest thing about him. He must stand almost a full head
higher than me.
Seth shot back,
"Hold your peace. This isn't easy, you know."
Seth worked away at
the lock. Once I thought he broke the improvised pick after a loud
click. But most of my attention was on my chest. The ink wouldn't
rub off and my skin felt no different. This could only be a bad omen.
My left arm was still
sore and tender from the sciver. The chain stopped the bite and the
bruising was my mark of victory over becoming a sciver chew-bone.
"You know, last
night I could swear there was something in that tower with me." Seth
looked over his shoulder scanning the serene structure. "Probably my
eyes playing tricks with the shadows." He fell silent as he worked,
not looking to elaborate.
The morning was spent
unlocking my and Tae-gron's bindings. We walked off the bridge, Tae-gron
with his sciver slung over his shoulder. A small triumph. He looked at us and then to the sun,
"So, which way?"
We entered the valley
from the southern pass, crossing the ring of stelae used to mark the
entrance. The Restorae Road runs east and west, through the open steppes
to the south of that. Our choices were few beyond retracing our
steps. The valley was walled by the Tegrovva Mountains in all other
directions. All I knew of the area was through tales told by gnarled
ladies and shadow-fearing locals, and nothing good worth mentioning. To
the north sat the ruins of an ancient city, its given name long
forgotten. The locals call it Battenfeld, translating to 'Hidden
Home'. Home to what? I feared to ask and couldn't care less to find
out. The fact I have not been this far north off the road and didn't know of
this tower's existence, makes me question heading anywhere unfamiliar.
"South," I
offered. We looked to the south, I for any sign of favor from the
gods. Seems I'm a bit short of it.
"South it
is," Seth confirmed. "Besides, that's the fastest way to a
warm meal and a full mattress."
Tae-gron just smiled,
holding his sciver pillow.
The walk southward
was without incident. We could see the Restorae Steppes in the hazy
distance, but knew the illusion of closeness was deceiving.
Tae-gron stopped and
picked up a rock. Watching him, he tested an edge to a piece of
slate. Dissatisfied with the results, he tossed it and kept walking. He
turned to me as we made our way through two mounds, "Gonna need to skin
and clean this up. We eat good tonight." For a big man, he had
to be twice as hungry.
Looking over to
Seth, he had a little height on me, but his lean body seemed
fragile. Accessing people, a trained habit that never went away.
"You know,"
Seth said when trudging up the next climb, "I still can't shake away that
feeling about the tower."
"It was made of
nightmares, for sure," Tae-gron interjected.
"I didn't see
anything, but it felt like eyes were watching me from the shadows."
"Oh. Maybe
it's haunted," I couldn't help but smile.
"Pshah.
Anyways, what put you on the platform?"
"What,
indeed." I was not in the mood for
sharing.
Seth didn't wait long
for an answer. "I got caught in the wrong bed."
"What was his
name. . .?"
He gave me a quick
shove down the slope.
"She happened to
be married." His grin made me bust out in laughter. Even
Tae-gron couldn't stop himself.
"So, are you a
Subrésae?" Seth eyed me.
I looked at his
serious face. "A gypsy? Yes.
A Perussian to most."
"Is that why
they brought you out here?"
"No. They
think I killed a man." That brought a round of quiet.
We walked on. I
know they wanted to ask, but they hadn't earned the right to an answer.
Someone had to die.
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