Page 15 of A War of Embers

“Zeke,” Nox sighs.

Gods, what kind of monster is he to have made such a realm shattering movement? Nervous energy licks up my nape, setting the fine hairs on end. The itch to draw my sword amplifies with my heart rate. “What kind of monster is Zeke?”

Alyvia offers me a small, strained smile. “A dragon.”

My head tilts back as I close my eyes in trepidation, trying and failing to ease the spasm of the fight response thrumming in my veins. Pulling in a deep breath, I manage to still my limbs and calm my brain at the knowledge of encountering another person on this never ending peregrination.

For a few moments, I simply stare at Alyvia and Nox in questionable horror. A dragon just landed somewhere nearby, something I’ve only heard in myths, and they’re reacting as if this is a completely normal occurrence.

Dragons are monsters.

Zeke is a monster.

Then what does that make Lord Rowan?

Wrapping my braid around my hand, I tug on the end and fight to breathe normally. This is the same plane of existence I’ve always been on, yet it feels like worlds apart. This entire ordeal was supposed to be over with the moment I met the Blood Witch. The longer this draws out, the longer I stay here alive, the more it seems my time here won’t be ending anytime soon.

“Keres,” Alyvia calls my name, bringing me back to the foyer. “Why don’t you come with me? We’ll get you some warmer clothes to change into and then we can meet with Zeke and see what he has to say about the arrival of Lord Rowan.”

“You can talk to a dragon?” I don’t know why I bother asking. Clearly these people are used to dealing with monsters far more readily than anyone I’ve ever known. I sigh and rub the heel of my palm between my eyes.

“He’ll shapeshift back.” Nox awkwardly reaches out to pat my shoulder. “It’ll take him a bit. Sometimes he’s feisty and he just shrinks his form rather than wearing his skin. Go with Alyvia, you are safe here within the estate grounds.”

Am I not safe if I leave here? What could this world do to me that Tellus has not already done? Instead of asking questions or dwelling on them, I quietly follow Alyvia’s beckoning hand as she guides me through several hallways. Each one is similar in style consisting of dark wood panels and matching trim. The noise in the house is a constant flow of murmurs, laughter, and items being banged around as people continue their jobs.

The further we get from the entryway, the less people I begin to see. Alyvia kindly waves or smiles as people pass us in the hallways. Most doors are closed, but the few cracked open allow me to glimpse into several rooms where maids wander about, fluffing pillows, making beds, sweeping the wooden floors. Everyone is in tailored black pants and a gray fitted shirt, so while in uniform, they all seem to vary to some miniscule degree.

“Here,” Alyvia informs me, pushing open the door to a bedroom that’s not currently being cleaned. She shuts the door after I walk in before darting towards a small wardrobe against the wall. “Give me a moment to see if I can find you something to change into that isn’t sopping wet.”

“Thanks.” I twist to glance around the room, trying to spot anything that might be a personal artifact but there’s nothing. The walls are bare, no paintings or picture frames hanging up. Turning back to where Alyvia is avidly digging through drawers, I can’t help my curiosity over the situation. “Why are there clothes in a guest bedroom?”

She doesn’t pause in her searching as she responds. “These last few rooms are where we stash clothes,” she chuckles. “We consider it a secret. Sometimes there’s festivals and we don’t want to all trek home and change then come back into the heart of the city, so we leave clothes here. The rules are that they’re free to be used so long as they’re washed and brought back, and that we don’t inform anyone where we stash them. Not that Zeke would care since he watches over the estate, but Lord Rowan would likely go into a rage.”

Fantastic. Before I can comment on the absurdity of Lord Rowan’s potential reaction when he doesn’t even seem to live here, Alyvia tosses several articles of clothing on the bed.

“These should fit you.” She turns to run her gaze up and down my body. “Will you need help disrobing due to the dampness?”

“I don’t believe so.” I reach down and undo my belt, feeling the cool thickness of the leather weighing heavier than usual. Shit. Maybe I will need help. Dropping my belt onto the ground, I bend to undo my boots, only to realize they’re molded to my feet. Fuck. Tilting my head back to the ceiling, I silently curse the dreaded Blood Sea. “Actually, if you wouldn’t mind,” I hoarsely ask.

Alyvia smiles. “You’re not the first woman to come inside sopping wet in need of assistance. Doubtful you’ll be the last. Come here and sit.” She points to the edge of the bed I brace against, lifting my leg as she grabs my boot and heaves until the thing finally pops off.

It takes several minutes to get the rest of my clothing off. By the time I’m standing there in my undergarments, Alyvia’s wide eyes are boldly staring at my arms, where the neon hue of my veins are alight as usual. “It’s fine,” I tell her as I snag a long sleeve off the bed and slip it over my head.

“But your–” Her eyes dart down to my legs, where the same eerie glow continues.

“I know,” I interrupt her. “It’s a side effect of housing the souls I do.” At least I’m pretty sure it is considering I can’t recall a time my veins didn’t possess this otherworldly color. Snatching a pair of pants, I stuff my legs inside and lace up the front. Glancing down at my bare feet to where my boots lay soaking on the floor, I heave a sigh. Guess I won’t be wearing those until they dry out.

“But–” She abruptly stops and shakes her head as if to rid herself of whatever she’s thinking. “This will do for now. I don’t believe they’ll want you wandering around the city at the moment. At least not without an escort.” She motions for me to come closer to her. “Let me undo that messy braid so your hair can dry easier. There’s not a comb in here so I’ll find you one later.”

As she begins detangling my hair from the mess, I focus on her previous mention of needing an escort as if there are people who might be afraid or angry towards my existence here. “Are there even people in this city?”

Alyvia moves slightly so I can see her face as she frowns at me. “I don’t understand. This is a city, it's full of people.” She steps aside after finishing with my hair and hands me the hair tie.

Are we discussing the same place? “I didn’t see anyone when I came through with Nox.”

Understanding dawns on her face. “I see. No, you wouldn’t have seen anyone. We always receive a warning before a person makes it up the cliff. If they have any ill intent or are considered dangerous, they are disposed of. That is part of Nox’s job or whoever is on duty at the time. It keeps the people here safe for us to be tucked indoors when the warning goes out.”

In an odd sort of way, it makes sense. I never considered what happens to the souls who have anger or rage riding them. “What happens to those souls who are disposed of?”

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