Raea picked a stick up off the floor and poked at the embers in front of her, their glow the final remnant of the flames that had warmed the previous night. There was a sudden commotion as Cian stepped forward and stamped his booted foot on that glow. Raea pulled back as the final belch of smoke escaped. It floated up into the air, finding release through the holes in the roof above them.

  Rolling her shoulders, Raea stood and walked out of the hovel they were sheltering in. “Going for some fresh air,” she said to her traveling companion. He didn’t respond, busy strapping his sword to his hip. Raea sighed and stepped outside.

  The landscape was pleasant enough, as it was in most of the Holy Peninsula. To the west was the sparkling sea and the east held thick forests, high hills, and low mountains. All beautiful to look at but not good for travel. It was the coastal plains that ran between them, and the road that passed through it, that served that function. In its well laid stone pavement and marked path it gave the sense that it was part of some grand design. Yet in its worn surfaces and unkempt roadsides it was also plain to see that it had weathered some centuries since that design had been abandoned.

  On its own the land was pleasant, even beautiful, but the Peninsula was pockmarked by human decay. All throughout the region were ruins of various kinds from different ages, some great and some small. The hovel that Raea had just stepped out from was an example of that, part of yet another village that she had spotted on the horizon, hoping that it might provide some succor, only to find that it long abandoned.

  “Come on, we’ve got more ground to cover,” Cian said, stepping out next to Raea.

  “Really?” Raea blurted out, incredulous. “I thought the boat was bad but walking sucks. How many days have we been at this already?”

  “Calm down, it hasn’t even been a week,” Cian responded

  “Don’t ye have a horse or something?” Raea asked. “All the heroes in the old stories have a faithful horse that takes them everywhere.”

  “And heroes in old stories never had to worry about buying the horse,” Cian replied. “Nor did they have to think about making sure that they’re fed and watered.”

  “Their feet also weren’t so sore so much that they forgot how feet normally feel,” Raea countered.

  “Hmph,” Cian snorted as be began walking down the road. “You’ll get used to it. Trust me, things are much simpler this way.”

  “Are they?” Raea asked, hurrying to catch.

  “Oh quiet down already,” Cian commanded. “We’re not even going that far today, we’re almost at our next stopover.”

  “Oh, and what would that be?” Raea questioned.

  “The holy city of Vera,” Cian answered. “We’ll pass through, perhaps peruse the market, and if we’re lucky we might find a place to stay for the night.”

  “Ye mean a place that doesn’t have a roof full of holes?” Raea jested.

  “Yes, if we’re lucky,” Cian answered. “Just…don’t do anything stupid.”

  “What do ye take me for?” Raea asked, hands on her hip.

  “It’s not about you,” Cian replied. “Vera is center of the Caragian faith, home of the High Father. My kind are not very popular there.”

  “Oh please,” Raea said, letting her arms hang at her side. “I’ve seen the way people look at ye here. They don’t hate ye, they’re afraid ye. Always turning their eyes, and that’s a good thing.”

  “That’s out here in the middle of nowhere,” Cian retorted. “In Vera the High Father’s army is made of sterner stuff and even if they don’t get involved a big enough mob can pose a threat.”

  “Alright, alright,” Raea relented. “I’ll try to watch myself.”

  “Good, hopefully that’s just be a worst case scenario. ” Cian continued. “Vera is a big enough city that we should just get lost in the shuffle, even if we do see some hostility.”

  “How big?” Raea asked.

  Cian smiled, chuckling softly. “I don’t think you have an experience that would prepare you for it. There are more people in that city than you have ever seen in your entire life.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Raea replied.

  ***

  “Do you believe it now?” Cian asked, wearing a massive smirk and nudging Raea with his elbow.

  “Do I have to say it?” Raea questioned. “I mean…” she paused, gesturing down at the city of Vera from the hilltop she and Cian were standing upon. “Ye weren’t lying. Ye can take every person on Carsani and fit them in that city, what, a dozen times? Twenty? I can’t even imagine.”

  “Yep,” Cian said, smiling. “The world is so much larger than that little island of yours, and it is bigger than this.”

  “With that many people, it must be a lively place,” Raea said, still staring at Vera, awestruck.

  Cian paused for a moment, considering this. “Depends on your definition of lively,” he finally said.

  Whether it was lively or not, the great city was built on the banks of a large river. The water’s courses meandered through the area, though its exact course was unclear from where Raea stood, shrouded as it was by the chaos of people and buildings. Truthfully it was only the fact that the river could be seen entering the walled perimeter of the city and exiting it on the either side that served as evidence of its presence. The city itself had overgrown that lifeline on which it was built.

  “Come on,” Cian said, walking down the slope.

  “Right, right,” Raea said, rousing herself to follow.

  Much as the city had overgrown the river it sprung from, it sprawled beyond the weathered but still very much grand walls that loomed ahead, continuing to protect the urban heart. But before that were rows of shacks and hovels, stretching beyond the wall’s protection, yet still huddling there, as if hoping they’ll be shielded despite that.

  And the smell, well, it smelled of decay, of stinking, dirtied water and things best left forgotten. But if decay had a sound it would sound like the outskirts of Vera. Not the lively chatter of people coming and going, but the subdued whispering of people in doorways, staring out into the streets. It wasn’t until they passed near the walls that Raea saw any sign of significant life, a crowd of people gathering outside what appeared to be a chapel built into the ancient fortification.

  “Huh,” Raea voiced, coming at a stop.

  “What is it?” Cian asked.

  “There’s something odd about that priest,” Raea said, pointing at a robed figure standing at the entrance of the chapel. “Looks like…a woman? I didn’t know women could be priests.”

  “That is indeed a woman,” Cian confirmed. “But, I don’t believe that she’s a priest.”

  A man approached the chapel, giving Raea a better view of the woman as she turned to greet him. She was indeed wearing a priest’s robe, but not in a manner that any priest ever would. Cutting holes into one’s clothing so that you might display lingerie clad crotch and bust does not make for pious living.

  “Wha…” Raea began, her mouth hanging slack jawed at the sight. Her expression shifted to a frown as the man handed a coin purse to the woman, who stuffed it into her cleavage before taking the man by the hand and leading him into the chapel.

  “That’s just wrong,” Raea stated. “Why would you use a holy place for - for that?!”

  “Eh, I don’t see the difference,” Cian replied with a shrug. “Religion, sex, they’re both just ways of trying to make yourself feel better and they’re often both for sale.”

  Raea groaned and shook her head. “Just…stop talking will ye?” she said, turning away from the scene.

  “Fine, fine,” Cian replied. “I have no interest in preaching anyway,” he opined, moving towards a gate leading to the walled off portion of the city. Raea sighed and followed.

  It was at the gate that Raea saw Vera for what it was meant to be. Beyond its function as a passage through the great walls, the gate also served to frame the first sight that newcomers had of the city itself. It was, to describe it in a simple fashion, glorious. The gateway exited out onto a grand boulevard, lined with massive, ancient trees and dozens of marble statues. Floating above the scene, standing tall perfectly in the middle of the gate’s frame, was a bell tower.

  “Wow,” Raea voiced as she and Cian stepped through the gates and began walking down the boulevard. She breathed in the air, letting it fill her lungs. The smell, in contrast with the squalor found outside the walls, was clean and free from signs of human decay. “How does a place like this exist?” she questioned aloud.

  “Vera was once the center of the world, the capital of a massive empire that spanned the vast majority of the continent,” Cian answered. “From here the Emperor of Vera ruled everything save for the far northern territories and the Blood Desert east of here. But not even the Empire of Vera could pass the ages unscathed.”

  Cian continued walking as he spoke. Raea followed, looking up at the marble statues as they passed under them, noticing that the heads and hands of each of them had been removed.

  “What does that mean?” Raea wondered aloud.

  Cian glanced up at the decapitated visage. “The gods and goddesses of the Empire, from before it converted to the Caragian faith. The Prophet’s followers thought that no God but their own deserved to be looked upon, so they did that.”

  “Was that…the right thing to do?” Raea asked, uncertainty seeping into her voice as clashing images surfaced in her mind. The kind face of Father Paul in tandem with men smashing the heads of those statues, anger and hatred in their eyes.

  Cian shrugged as he turned back to the road. “When I was younger I had some thoughts on it but these days I don’t think it matters all that much.” He looked down to the base of the statue, which concealed a grate covered hole. “Turns out Vera’s famous sewers carry away not only dirt and muck, but blood too.” The old warrior shook his head and continued on his way. “Doesn’t mean that it wasn’t spilled.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  The great boulevard ended at a large marketplace, at the entrance to which a large crowd had gathered to listen to a priest. From atop a podium, in truth a few wooden planks laid down atop some barrels, he yelled out to the crowd.

  “I tell you, we are all doomed so long as those who have forsaken God’s gifts to humanity continue to walk this world,” the priest was saying as Cian and Raea approached. He paused and scanned the crowd. His face contorted into a scowl as he laid his eyes on Cian. “Here approaches such a being now, one who has become one with the beast!” the priest exclaimed, pointing at the Varathian. “One who brings only pain and death!”

  Raea stopped, her eyes wandering back and forth between the priest and crowd gathered around them. Their eyes were filled with the same fear that Raea had seen in other people who beheld the Varathian. Except it wasn’t the same, this time that fear held within it anger. Raea could tell, for the fearful averted their eyes. But the angry? Their eyes followed.

  Raea turned her own eyes to Cian in curiosity. The Varathian, it seemed, had not deigned the moment worthy of his attention. He continued on his way as if nothing had been said. Raea shook her head, wondering to herself why he didn’t do anything, before hurrying after the Varathian.

  “So…” Raea began, still looking over her shoulder at the priest. “What is this place anyway?”

  “The great market of Vera,” Cian answered. “God and sex aren’t the only things for sale here. Actually, just about anything can be bought here.”

  Raea sniffed at the air, catching the familiar scent of bread, along with something sweeter.

  “Get your fresh baked goods here!” a voice called out, drawing the girl’s attention to a bakery on the edge of the market. “Come sir, look, have a taste!” a man in an apron exclaimed, holding a small box in his arms. He spotted a well dressed gentleman walking by and stepped forward into his path. “Care to try one of our special cakes? It’s a secret family recipe dating back to the days of the Empire.”

  “Fuck off,” the impeded upon fellow swore. sidestepping to avoid the intrusion.

  “Over there, is the White-Gold Square, the center of the city.” Cian said, pulling Raea’s attention back to him as they walked. He gestured vaguely to his left. “The Grand Cathedral and the High Hall are there, the beating heart of the Caragian faith.”

  Raea’s eyes followed Cian’s signal, spotting a bell tower peaking over the rest of the buildings. Her vision wondered, catching a stall selling fine silks. A woman in an elegant dress perused its stock as a pair of armored guards stood by, barring entrance for anyone else. As they continued walking she caught a whiff of some sort of spice she didn’t recognize.

  “It’s like this city can fit everything in the world inside it,” Raea said with a sense of wonder.

  Cian snorted in response. “That’s probably not far off, for better or worse.”

  Despite that confirmation, however, Raea couldn’t shake one thought from her mind. For a city that held all the world within it, it was missing something, something Raea had never seen before but knew existed somewhere out there – hated and despised like her.

  “Where are the elves?” she asked.

  “Hm?” Cian grunted, looking over his shoulder at the girl as they walked. “Oh, you’re not going to see them here in the city. On the decree of some ancient High Father or another, elves and men can’t live together. In most Caragian realms elves are confined to their slums, and in some even leaving them to walk in human areas is punishable by death.”

  “Oh,” Raea replied in a subdued tone.

  “Listen, don’t worry about it,” Cian said. With a sudden shift in direction he started to head toward a building at the corner of the market. “There’s an inn,” he said, pointing at the building. “Let’s just get a room and be done for the day.”

  “Um, sure,” Raea said as the duo approached the front door.

  Cian paused mid-stride, throwing Raea a quizzical look. “Something wrong?” he asked.

  Raea’s gaze fell towards the ground in response.

  Cian sighed at the sight. “Alright, I get it. First time in the big city is a lot for a country girl like you.” He resumed his path to the inn. “Stay out here, wander around, get used to the feeling. Just don’t go too far.”

  “Right,” Raea answered. “It’s just…” she continued saying to herself as Cian stepped through the inn’s door. “Why do I feel so small?” Turning, she studied the people coming and going through the market, studied how their eyes missed her. They looked at her like they looked at each other, as just another person. The one was as insignificant to the other as the other was to the one. Raea was no different.

  Raea frowned at that thought. People had always singled her out, she was always something to direct their hatred towards. She didn’t miss the hate. But worse than contempt was being just another person.

  As Raea stood there all the other people turned their attention, one after the other, in the same direction. They fell into a pensive silence while Raea refused to follow them, her unerring gaze ever forward. When the object of the people’s attention crossed her sightline her annoyance fell to give way to curiosity.

  It was a group of soldiers. Wearing ornate, distinctive armor, they made for eye-catching figures as they cut a path through the crowd. The people stepped back away from them, allowing a wide berth for the soldiers’ charge to pass through.

  Trapped between the armored men, held by lengths of chain carried by their captors, were a pair of people. A man and a woman, both looking bruised and malnourished, their ragged clothes hanging loosely from their emaciated bodies. The man was plain looking, to the point that he could have passed by unnoticed were it not for his circumstances. But the woman, the woman caught the eye.

  A tall, thin frame with slender features, pointed ears, and smooth black hair crowning her head. Raea had never heard a description of an elf, had barely even heard of their existence before she left Carsani. But the moment she saw this woman Raea knew that this just such a creature. She was captivated now, not unlike the others in the market. Her eyes followed this pitiable pair as they crossed by, moving in the direction of the White-Gold Square. Raea’s legs carried her after them, following them over the bridge that spanned the stretch of river separating the market from the square.

  As it turned out the name “square” was somewhat misleading, the space was better described as a triangle. The sides, save for the one Raea had just entered from, were made up of single buildings, each one the most massive, grand, and beautiful constructs she had ever seen. The first part of White-Gold Square held true though, for their visages were dominated by white marble and gold trimming

  To Raea’s right was a cathedral, easily the tallest thing she had ever seen in her life. It followed that this was the Grand Cathedral that Cian had mentioned. It was crowned with the grand bell tower that was visible from the main gate but to stand at its base was the only way to understand the full majesty of it, even with the white, weathered stone blocks that constituted its walls showing the centuries that it had endured. The architecture was designed to draw the eye ever upward with pointed arches and buttresses, curving gently into the bell tower that hovered over seemingly everything in creation. The main entrance, which stood with its doors open, could easily fit 15 men shoulder to shoulder across its threshold and at its tallest the full body length of 20 men. Above the entrance was what Raea recognized as the symbol of the Caragian faith, plated with gold. A pair of hands within a circle, reaching downwards, offering themselves to the people below.

  If that had been the Grand Cathedral then to Raea’s left was most likely The High Hall, not as tall or magnificent as the cathedral, but just as exquisite. The walls were adorned with intricately detailed images carved into the marble. Statues depicting lions flanked the entrance, a door of a size typical of many homes, but shined the color of gold. Much like the cathedral the architecture was designed to draw the onlooker’s sight in a certain direction, though in this case it was towards a single large window on the facade of the building, above the entrance. Within Raea could see a man in white robes, sitting on a throne and looking down upon the square below.

  Raea now found herself swept up by the crowd, trapped by the throes of people as they followed after the chained human man and elf woman. Looking around, Raea was struck by the fact that these people were silent. There was no yelling or screaming, only a quiet anticipation. That anticipation built as they moved towards a wooden platform standing in the center of the square.

  The guards dragged the pair of prisoners onto the platform and chained them to a set of posts. The growing crowd of onlookers pooled around the stage as the armored men stepped down and formed a perimeter around the site. In their place a man in priestly robes stepped up. Raea paused, surprised by the holy man. In her life she had only ever seen the clergy in unassuming black. But this priest was different, as his garb was an immaculate pure white and garishly decorated with valuable gemstones. Raising his arms into the air, he cut through the thick silence with a clear voice.

  “Good Children of God, I bring to you a sad mistake that must be corrected.” he spoke.

  Raea found herself curious, wondering both what this priest was referring to and why the crowd continued to look on in an anticipatory silence. She started pushing through the crowd, slipping by people as she inched toward the platform.

  Meanwhile, the priest began to pace back and forth in front of the bound pair. “This man, brought here before the eyes of the people, the High Father, and God himself, has committed a most grievous crime against the divine.”

  The crowd continued its silence, but Raea was struck by the fact that people were now assuming a position of prayer, clasping their hands together in front of their chests and bowing their heads. The girl continued passing through the crowd unnoticed, her curiosity growing. Such so that she didn’t even realize the surrounding crowd opening a clear path to the ring of guards around the platform. It was not until she stood alone that Raea noticed the shift. She then saw the shadow being cast of her and turned to see a guard standing over her.

  “Out of the way, girl,” the armored man growled.

  Raea leaned to the side, peering past the guard. She saw another priest, also dressed in white robes, holding a bright red pillow in his hands. Two more guards stood at his flanks.

  “You stupid or something?” the first guard asked, placing a heavy, gauntleted hand on the girl’s shoulder.

  Raea looked back up at the man, blinking a few times in an attempt to chase away her own confusion. She then backed up, with slow deliberate steps, and rejoined the crowd. The priest and his guards continued towards the platform. Raea kept pace, slipping between people as she followed.

  “Now witness, children,” the priest on the platform said aloud. “This man has turned his back on the divine, forsaking the gifts given to him and all of humanity. Instead he chose to consort with a vain and shallow imitation of His holy visage.”

  Raea expected yelling, screaming, something from the crowd. She was shocked when the response was for more people to bow their heads and pray. As this was happening the second priest reached the platform, standing at its base and holding the pillow above his head. The guards accompanying him joined the ring of protectors around the site.

  “So, good people,” the priest on the platform said, placing a hand on the pillow. “It is time that we remove temptation from his path and give him a chance to repent and return to the holy path.” With that he lifted a knife from the pillow, holding it up for the crowd to see. It was a wicked looking device, with a blade that curved down into a nasty hook.

  Raea could feel her muscles tense as the priest turned and approached the bound elf. The man next to her couldn’t bear to watch, it seemed, for his eyes were closed shut. The woman, on the other hand, couldn’t help but watch, her eyes locked to the knife with a helpless desperation.

  The priest lifted the blade, cradling it with his other hand like a candle whose flame the wind was threatening to put out. With a softness unbefitting such a nasty looking instrument, he placed its bladed hook over one of the elf’s pointed ears. Tears began to stream down the woman’s face as Raea turned hers away, unable to bear the sight.

  She flinched as the elf woman screamed. Raea looked down at her own hands and for a moment time seemed to slow. She flexed her fingers a few times before clenching her fists. Why was she just standing there? She was a monster, not a scared child. With new found resolve she turned her eyes back to the platform.

  The priest wiped the knife clean on the elf’s shirt, as if it were a rag to be used at his convenience. He then shifted his weight to the side, an act that allowed Raea a glimpse of the bloody nub where the ear had been. Raea frowned as the knife approached the other.

  Raea leapt forward, grabbing a dagger on the belt of the nearest guard and letting her forward momentum carry it out of its scabbard. Before the man had a chance to respond she was leaping up onto the platform.

  With a crazed thrust Raea stabbed the priest in the leg, piercing him just below the knee. The man cried out in pain, letting the hooked knife fall and clatter on the platform as he grabbed his leg and curled up in pain. At the same time the crowd broke from their solemn observation of the event. Raea could hear their yelling and screaming in her ears, out of the corner of her eye she could them pushing at the ring of guards who tried to keep them at bay.

  “What is the meaning of this?” the priest asked, looking up at Raea. “By Carag’s divine soul I can only hope that you will find forgiveness in the next life.”

  “Shut up,” Raea responded.

  “Please, girl, please run,” the elf woman whispered, tears on her cheeks. “Don’t die for our mistake.”

  “What?” Raea asked, confused. Before she could receive an answer, however, she felt the blow of a spear shaft on the back of her head. She fell forward, flat on her face, as her vision blurred into indistinct light and shadow.

  “There, that takes care of that,” a voice said. One of the guards, Raea assumed.

  “What do we do with them, sir?” another asked.

  “Kill him and the she-elf,” the first answered. “The show’s already been ruined, best to just end it.”

  “Yes, sir,” the answer came with no hesitation. It was followed by first a woman’s cry of pain as she was stabbed in the chest, then a man’s as the same was done to him.

  “What about her, Captain?” another asked, accompanied by an armored foot being placed on Raea’s back, between her shoulder blades.

  “She’s just a child, let the High Father judge her,” was the response.

  The last sensation Raea felt was being lifted up by a pair of men. As she slipped into unconsciousness the thought occurred to her that she might have made a mistake.