Page 5 of A City of Flames

Short curls fall over Iker’s forehead as he blows a breath in shock. I glance at Illias, who smiles uncomfortably at me in a bid to lift my spirits. I barely lift the side of my lips in reply, the reality of how we’ve had far too many of these disputes against Idris sinking in.

Later on, in the evening, after a tense supper where no one spoke except to fight over the last piece of bread, I wind up in the bathroom. I take off my corset along with the sheath strap, leaving me in a loose white shirt as I set it all on top of the chipped sink.

I exhale deeply, glancing into the mirror and running my fingers along the sides of my body. Although Iker and Illias find it impossible to obtain a stable job, I am grateful Idris and I can provide sufficient funds for food. Some days I still have to hunt so we can have a meal on our plates. Yet, regardless of whether we’re starving or not, my natural figure never loses its busty curves.

My hands slowly come down to my thighs until I wince and look down at the injury. I had put herbs and dressed it up after Idris told me to, and of course, Illias had offered to help, but my stubbornness made me storm off with a half-arsed job.

“Hey, trapper?” Four obnoxious knocks accompanied by my nickname tells me it’s Iker on the other side. “Can you cover for me if Idris asks where I am?”

I roll my eyes, knowing he’s going out to try and trick people into giving him money by the tavern.

His knocks continue, with loud whispers of my name over and over again, but I don’t respond as I twirl waves of golden hair and weave it into a half-up half-down plait.

I quickly grab my moon carving and turn towards the door. The brass mortice knob cools against my skin as I pull open the door and see Iker’s hand midair while his gaze focuses on how I tap my foot on the floor impatiently. “You shouldn’t go out,” I say, looking over his shoulder at the rabbit nibbling on its paws. “You have a new pet to look after, wouldn’t want me leaving the door open so he escapes now, would you? Or worse, imagine you eating dinner tomorrow and realizing what’s in the stew?”

He blinks, narrowing his eyes with faint amusement. “Oh, you are positively evil.”

“We share the same blood, so you and me both, Iker.” I pat his shoulder with a smile and walk off, heading outside and into the front gardens that lead up to heaps of woods and greenery.

I stop and take in the unusual hues of purple enhancing the night sky and rest onto the thick layers of grass. I bring my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around as I lift the carving between my thumb and index finger, studying it under the light of the stars.

Sighing wistfully, I remember how a few years back, my mother took me to a neighboring village. I’d been carrying a carving of the sun I’d made myself before I bumped into someone, and the carving slipped out of my hand. In a rushed attempt to recover my item, I ended up with a moon carving instead. I guess the young person I’d bumped into must have dropped it at the same time I’d dropped mine and we’d exchanged them by accident.

My mother told me how it was a sign... a form of luck. People of Zerathion believe our universe was created millennia ago with the power of the sun and the moon—deities named Solaris and Crello. They believe that the sun always seeks its moon, and when they join, an unimaginable power will surge from them.

My brothers don’t share that faith but I do. I want to believe there is something.

Minutes pass as I flip the crescent and run my thumb over the letter R engraved on the oak surface. My curiosity grows before someone calls out to me. I look over my shoulder, seeing Illias’s figure through the window, waving at me to come back inside.

I shake my head humorously at how concerned he gets sometimes, and I dust the dirt off my fingers while rising. When I glance at my carving once more, I breathe a sigh, wondering if I’ll ever get my sun returned, as I start making my way back.

* * *

“You didn’t steal that bread like last time now, did you?” Miss Kiligra, the seamstress of our village, asks, squinting her hazel eyes at the loaf in my hands.

“Course not, Miss Kiligra,” I drawl. “That was Iker.” The renowned trickster. He used to dress up as a frail man in need of bread before returning home.

“Oh, you Ambrose siblings are all the same,” she complains, her voice sounding worse than a rusted piece of metal as she totters to the back.

After trapping a water pixie by luring it with honey—a sweet substance they gravitate towards—I came to the main village to buy pots of paint for Illias. Miss Kiligra owns a business that provides everyone with almost anything. The vast room of her shop contains an indistinct heap of randomly placed tools of various purposes... Huge pans, candles of different sizes, drapes of cloth hanging from windows, there is no logic or order to be found in that mess.

“Now you tell that brother of yours to stop coming by with paint dripping off of him. I don’t want him staining the goods,” she says, scratching her long, grey coiled hair as she limps with the paint can in one hand. I chuckle, fully aware Illias won’t stop showing up with different colors all over him.

My attention catches a gleam on one of the shelves behind her counter. “Knives?” I arch a brow in amusement as I hand her two copper coins with a dragon imprinted on each side and study the four small, but nicely sharpened blades. “Since when did you keep those around in your store?”

Miss Kiligra always tells me off for carrying knives freely. I even gifted her a set once, only to find out she had given them to someone else because she feared someone could break in and use them against her.

A bizarre logic that I’ve never tried to question her on.

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” She leans over the counter, her eyes darting around the room in madness. “Apparently, a new breed of monsters is lurking around the whole of Emberwell, slaughtering humans!”

My blood freezes. A new breed? Oh, for Solaris’s sake. “Where did you hear that?”

“Myrine found out from traders in the city. They say it’s worse than dragon shifters or a rümen.”

My brows lower as I slowly dropping the loaf of bread on the counter. “Do you think they came from Terranos?”

She shakes her head. “Some believe the leaders of Aeris might have something to do with it, others, Terranos.”

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