Page 19 of Riftborne
Enjoy this last day with her. Tomorrow, you’ll make your escape.
The words loomed as I dressed myself.
In the heartof our corner of Luminaria lay the energetic marketplace of the Central district.
Stalls constructed with stone and living wood wound through the grand avenues backing up to the canals. The marble structures served as canvases for elaborate depictions of flora and fauna, carved by Aossí artisans.
Canopies of intertwining vines and blossoms draped the market square with shade, adding a touch of the wild to the polished marble surroundings.
Crystals embedded in the architecture refracted sunlight and cast a gentle glow over the bustling marketplace.
Osta and I drifted through the crowds as if in a haze. Aromatic spices infused the air, pulling us towards the food stalls offering a tantalizing fusion of exotic and traditional flavors.
I had to stop myself from drooling. The sounds of sizzling delicacies blended with the soft murmur of a nearby fountain.
I had forgotten how magical the market was at the end of Summer.
I was going to miss Luminaria, flaws and all. The city itself had never treated me badly. I wondered where I’d go, and if anywhere could replace the sense of whimsy that seeped from every nook and corner of Sídhe’s capital.
The sounds of cheering erupted from the square, and I shot my attention towards it just as a white fabric was ripped away to reveal a marble statue. The cheering intensified as a voice boomed through the streets, “All hail King Sydian. Long may he reign.”
I grabbed Osta’s elbow and pulled her deeper into the anonymity of the crowd as I held back a grimace.
It was no secret that the residents of Sídhe shared commondevotion for the monarchs. King Sydian was revered as the greatest ruler in a millennia and had achieved the impossible: an era of near-universal prosperity.
Poverty and hunger were rarities. The Crown, through its royal delegation, ensured everyone had access to basic necessities. Yet, true equality remained elusive. The class system persisted, albeit with a less rigid division between lower and middle.
A silence hung over the origin of this newfound wealth. Throughout his reign, the harvests became more than bountiful, livestock thrived, and nearly extinct species rebounded. Even Aossí vitality was affected. Our normal two century lifespans seemed to stretch on, with some elders nearing the age of two-hundred and twenty. It was as if the realm itself had become somewhat of a miracle. Those who still worshiped claimed it was a blessing from the Esprithe.
Osta and I spent most of our day hopping between vendors, taking samples and exploring the labyrinth of artisan wares.
One tent in particular caught my attention. I approached it, eyeing the most detailed and immersive tapestry. Sprawling hillsides and rocky beaches were painted expertly. It almost seemed like I was looking through a window to these places.
I had never been outside of Luminaria’s borders. My eyes locked on a scene of perfectly tumbling storm clouds encroaching on snowy peaks. It was the most vibrant thing I had ever seen.
“That’s the Radianthian Mountain Range,” a woman’s voice said from across the tent. She must have been the artist. I gave her a smile before turning back to the tapestry. For a moment, I tried to picture my life there amongst the foothills.
“It’s so… vivid. It feels like I’m looking at it in real time. Like I’m there,” I mused.
The woman let out a small laugh. “Well you can thank my focus for that. Turns out my gift is painting in hauntingly true detail. It all just kind of spills out of me.” She smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m surprised the Nobility hasn’t tormented you relentlessly. It seems like a focus they would deem invaluable,” I observed.
“Oh, they’ve tried.” The woman laughed. “But I value my freedom far too much. Although I’m available for commissioned pieces, for a price.” Her eyes lit up as they traveled across her work.
“So you refused them?” I asked, “You felt comfortable turning them down?”
“Of course. We all take our own path. Mine was never meant to be contained. Limited.” She sighed. “Some things are just meant to run free. Some things cannot be tempered–forced into a box of someone else’s making.”
Pausing, I ruminated over her words. Her situation didn’t exactly apply to me. I highly doubt she committed murder with her paintbrushes. They had no leverage over her. No material for blackmail.
“Well, you’re extremely talented, as I’m sure you know. I’d love to buy one of these some day. My roommate and I–” I stopped, turning around to find Osta. She was over at a fabric tent striking up a conversation with the salesman. We certainly didn’t have the funds for something like this. A part of me sank. It would make a perfect parting gift.
“We love tapestries. Are you selling here often?” I asked.
“Only in the summer. I travel for the rest of the year, seeking out inspiration from the northern countryside.”
I nodded. “Well, I wish you safe travels. Perhaps we’ll be able to see your adventures next summer.” I smiled and took a few steps toward the main path but stopped when I caught a glimpse of some rolled parchment in the corner of her tent.
