Denna

DENNA

T he villart's hooves clattered on the cobblestones as we approached the city gate. My heart raced, the two halves of the relic hidden in my saddlebags feeling heavier with each step.

"Halt!" A guard in silver and blue raised his hand. "No weapons allowed in the city."

I tensed, gripping the reins tighter. Korrin's jaw clenched.

"We're just passing through," he said.

The guard's eyes narrowed. "Then you can leave your swords here."

Another guard reached for my saddlebags. I jerked away, but his fingers caught the edge of my cloak. The hood fell back.

Gasps rippled all around. "A Frostling!"

Korrin's hand flew to his sword hilt. I cursed inwardly, the dress hampering my movements. If it came to a fight, I'd manage, but it wouldn't be pretty.

"What's all this commotion?" A massive Shakai pushed towards us. His eyes widened. "Korrin? What in the blazes are you doing here?"

Korrin relaxed slightly. "Ashur. Good to see you, old friend."

The head guard scowled. "You know this man?"

Ashur grinned. "Know him? We fought side by side! Korrin here is a hero."

The guard didn't look convinced. "Be that as it may, weapons are forbidden."

"Of course, of course." Ashur turned to Korrin. "Why don't you let me hold onto that sword for you? Just until you're inside."

Korrin hesitated, then nodded. He handed the weapon over.

Ashur beamed. "There! All settled. Now, why don't you follow me?" He leaned in close. "Quickly, if you please."

We led our villarts through the gates. The city of Zashi sprawled before us, a maze of winding streets and towering buildings. As dusk fell, lamplighters moved from post to post, their torches bringing the city to life.

The air was thick with the scents of spices and smoke. Vendors called out their wares, the clatter of cart wheels mingling with snatches of laughter and argument.

"Fresh fish! Caught this morning!"

"Two silvers for a genuine Trellen scarf!"

"You call this genuine? I wouldn't wipe my ass with it!"

I wanted to stop and stare at everything—the colorful awnings, the intricate tilework, the strange creatures peering from windows. But a knot of anxiety twisted in my gut.

I'd found the relic. I was on the way to see Mila. Now what?

Ashur glanced back. "Mila and Lita will be thrilled to see you."

I nodded, not trusting my voice. I hoped he was right, but the truth was, I barely knew them. In the Temple, we'd all been too focused on survival to form real friendships.

I trailed behind Korrin and Ashur as they wove through the bustling streets of Zashi. Their easy banter filled the air, a stark contrast to the knot of nerves in my belly. The unfamiliar sights and sounds of the city overwhelmed my senses, but I forced myself to focus on their conversation, desperate for any distraction from my churning thoughts.

Ashur's booming laugh cut through the din of the crowd. "That roika we fought in the Firedunes - now that was a beast! I can still feel the ground shaking as it charged us."

The pride in Korrin's voice was unmistakable. "Your arrow shot was impressive, but I'd say my lasso throw was the real hero of the day."

"Ha! Keep telling yourself that, my friend," Ashur retorted, clapping Korrin on the back.

I found myself leaning in, curiosity piqued despite my anxiety. What was a roika? And how had they managed to take down such a formidable creature? The easy camaraderie between them spoke of shared battles and long-forged trust.

A pang of loneliness hit me. I'd never had friendships like that—the kind built on shared triumphs and mutual respect. In the Temple, alliances were fleeting and fragile, born of necessity rather than genuine connection.

As we continued through the winding streets, I felt a little like an intruder on their reunion. My fingers brushed against the hidden relic pieces in the saddlebags I clutched to my chest, a stark reminder of the true purpose for my presence here.

Their laughter faded as we approached an enormous structure looming over the city. Zashi Castle perched atop a towering spire of granite, its walls gleaming in the fading light. A path zigzagged up to a moat and drawbridge.

My breath caught. This was it. We were almost there.

As we started up the winding path, I heard Ashur murmur to Korrin, "So, are you going to tell me what you're really doing here? And with a Frostling of your own, no less?"

Korrin's shoulders tensed as he replied to Ashur, "I wouldn't be here if I had a choice. But as my lady wishes, I will follow."

Ashur's gaze swung to me, his eyes wide with surprise. I felt exposed under his scrutiny, my skin prickling with unease. The weight of my mission pressed down on me, urging me to speak.

"I have a mission," I said, meeting Ashur's gaze. "I need to see Mila."

Ashur stopped abruptly, causing our villarts to shuffle nervously. His expression darkened, a mix of suspicion and concern crossing his features.

"You want to take her back to the Temple?" he asked, his tone sharp.

My stomach lurched at the thought. The memories of the Temple's horrors flashed through my mind—the cold, sterile chambers, the eerie hum of strange machinery. The nightmare of the Tomb, of memories that I shouldn't have. I shuddered, bile rising in my throat.

"Of course not!" I exclaimed, perhaps too forcefully. I took a breath, trying to steady myself. The bustling streets around us suddenly felt too open, too exposed. I glanced around, noting the curious stares of passersby and the way their conversations hushed as they passed.

"Can we talk about this inside?" I asked, lowering my voice. "Somewhere? Anywhere?"

Ashur hesitated, his eyes darting between Korrin and me. Finally, he nodded. "Follow me," he said, leading us down a narrow side street.

The alley was dim, the fading sunlight barely reaching between the tall, close-set buildings. The air grew cooler, tinged with the scent of damp stone and something vaguely unpleasant. Our villarts' hooves echoed off the walls, creating an eerie chorus.

We emerged into a small courtyard, hidden from the main streets.

At Ashur's signal, a young boy rushed forward to lead our villarts off to stable. A weathered wooden door stood before us, its iron fittings rusted with age. Ashur pulled a large key from his belt.

"Welcome to my humble home away from home," he said, pushing the door open with a creak.

Inside, the air was filled with the scent of leather and metal. Weapons of various makes lined the walls, glinting dully in the light of a few sputtering candles. A large table dominated the center of the room, covered in maps and what looked like ledgers.

Ashur closed the door behind us, muffling the sounds of the city outside. He turned to face us, his expression grim.

"Now," he said, crossing his arms, "explain."

I straightened up, squared my shoulders. "I was sent to find a relic of the temple," I started.

Ashur nodded, his expression unreadable. "Mila found one as well."

My heart leapt. "I need to put them all together," I said, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Ashur's eyes narrowed. "And then what?"

I blinked, suddenly at a loss. It was like walking down a street, lost but hoping, believing that somehow a map would show up. But instead, the cobblestones had fallen away entirely. "I... I don't know," I admitted, my voice small.

Ashur's gaze flickered between Korrin and me. "Stay here," he said finally. "I'll bring Mila and her relic to you."

As the door closed behind him, the silence in the room felt oppressive. I paced, my mind racing. What was I supposed to do next? The weight of my ignorance pressed down on me, threatening to crush me beneath it.

Korrin's arms encircled me from behind, his warmth welcome against the chill of uncertainty that had settled in my bones. "Don't worry," he murmured, his breath tickling my ear. "You're clever and brave. I know you'll find a way."

I leaned into him, drawing strength from his presence. But deep down, a part of me wondered if his faith in me was misplaced.

Exhaustion suddenly overwhelmed me. I curled up in a window seat, the muffled sounds of the city drifting through the glass. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine I was back in Terr, back in the Five Ring, before my lot was drawn and I was given to the Temple. Before everything changed.

A noise jolted me awake. I blinked, disoriented, realizing I'd drifted off. Ashur had returned, and he wasn't alone. Lita and Mila stood beside him, cloaked and masked, but their eyes met mine, unmistakably human. Two large Shakai men loomed behind them.

Before I could fully process the scene, Lita and Mila rushed forward, enveloping me in a tangle of arms and excited voices. The embrace was warm, comforting, but as they squeezed tighter, pain lanced through my side. I couldn't suppress a wince.

Their joy quickly turned to concern. ", you're hurt!" Lita exclaimed, her fingers gently probing my side.

Mila whirled on Korrin, her eyes flashing. "What happened? How could you let her get injured?"

Korrin raised his hands in a placating gesture. "It's good to see you, too, Mila," he said, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

I felt oddly disconnected, overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of familiar faces and voices. It all happened so fast.

One of the Shakai men stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. Lita's expression softened as she turned to him. ", this is Drax... my mate."

Drax inclined his head, a gentle smile on his face. The easy way he interacted with Ashur, the clear trust between them and Korrin, helped ease some of the strain in my shoulders. If Korrin trusted them, perhaps I could, too.

But the other Shakai man remained motionless, his silence almost a tangible, sinister thing. Something about him set my nerves on edge. I couldn't put my finger on why, but instinct told me to be wary.

Drax turned to his companion, an exasperated look crossing his features. "Come on, brother. You wanted to be here."

The man stepped forward, executing a formal bow. "I am Prince Tharon," he said, voice smooth and cultured. "Something as momentous as the arrival of a new Frostling requires my attention."

Instant dislike coiled in my gut. His words were polite, but there was an undercurrent of arrogance, a coldness in his eyes that made me want to shrink away. Glancing at Lita and Mila, I saw my own unease mirrored in their expressions.

To my surprise, it was Tharon who broke the uncomfortable silence. "You should sit," he said, gesturing to a nearby chair. "Rest."

Warily, I complied, sinking into the proffered seat. No sooner had I settled than Tharon's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze intense. "Now," he said, "show me the relics."