Ben's NaNoWriMo Log

Chapter 22 added Sep 23, 2005
For a while Sarah was uncertain whether they were actually leaving Faerie or not. The sky was still blue and the sun was shining through the leaves above them. Soon enough, however, they could see a clear area up ahead. For the first time in quite a while they had to move cautiously. The area ahead turned out to be the same spot on the road where they had first entered the forest. There seemed to be no sign of the soldiers who had pursued them. It was hard to gauge how long they had been in Faerie, but it was certainly several days, perhaps weeks. No doubt they had given up the search by now. The east gate of Luni was nearby, and they made their way down the road in that direction. The guards paid them little mind; apparently their mad dash had not been as memorable as they thought. The city was the same as they had left it. Despite the city's colorful and festive appearance and the fine spring weather, Sarah still felt as though she was standing in a constant shadow. After her time in Faerie, the mortal world seemed to be all hard edges and filth. She also had to accustom herself to the idea of money again. There were coins enough in her purse that it wasn't a worry, but she already missed the measureless time that she had been able to simply eat her fill from the trees around her. "Well, we seem to be reasonably safe," said Molly. "Let's find ourselves a place to stay and figure out where we want to go." Sarah nodded absently. They headed toward the opposite side of the city from where they had stayed the last time; undoubtedly people would still remember them there. The north end of the city was more affluent than the south, as the trade road from Disanne entered the city from the north. They had to go outside the city wall to find an affordable inn. The area outside the wall was a jumble of buildings, with little rhyme or reason to its layout outside of the trade road. Molly and Sarah picked a side road at random, looking for a place as out of the way as possible, just in case there were people still looking for them. As they turned a corner, the city seemed to abruptly change. The shops and houses were fairly old here, and some were in need of repair. The colorful woodwork that was a hallmark of the rest of the city had all been painted black here, turning the festival atmosphere funereal. The effect was heightened by the fact that there seemed to in fact be a funeral parade coming down the street toward them. A casket draped in white led the way, carried on the shoulders of six dusky-skinned young men. Several dozen mourners trailed behind, swaddled in black. From what they could see they seemed mostly of a similar complexion. The parade turned slowly, entering a large, nondescript building that looked like it might be a warehouse save for the large silver ball hanging above the door. The other people on the street had stopped to watch the casket pass, their faces uniformly sad as though they knew whoever was inside. Sarah looked at Molly, who only shrugged. She walked to a man who was standing nearby silently watching the procession. "What's going on?" she asked. The olive skinned man looked at her with a strange expression, as if deciding whether she was making a bad joke. "It's a funeral," he said simply. His accent sounded Kufriti, though this close to the border that wasn't too strange. In all her years in Crown Bay, Sarah had never seen a funeral like this. They were generally conducted in the church rather than parading down the street. She watched as the tail end of the line of mourners disappeared into the building. "I've never seen a funeral like this before. Is it an Ahandrian tradition?" The man's jaw clenched and unclenched, as though he was fighting some simmering anger within. "It is a Surian tradition." Sarah failed to hide the surprise on her face. Even in the cosmopolitan city of Crown Bay, she had never really met any Surians. They were a mysterious people who followed a religion separate from the Holy Church of Tavion. They were supposedly a sect that had been cast out of the Church in ancient times. When referred to at all, they were called at best, misguided, and at worst, demon worshipers. There were Surians in Crown Bay, certainly, but they kept to themselves and had few dealings with the city at large. Sarah had always been told to stay away from them, though she was never given a clear reason why. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't know." "Now you do," said the man curtly. "If you have any more questions, I suggest you ask them at the temple." He pointed at the building where the funeral procession had gone before striding away. Sarah looked curiously at the building. It didn't look much like a church, though it did explain the silver ball; as the sun was the face of the Bright Lord Tavion, so the moon was supposedly the goddess Suri. As she was looking at the temple, a white haired man came to shut the doors. He caught her eye as he was beginning to pull the heavy doors shut and paused for a moment. He stepped outside, closing the doors and walking across the street toward Sarah and Molly. He was stooped with age but spry, wearing a robe much like those worn by Tavian priests, save that it was white trimmed with black. Among the Tavian clergy no one wore white save the Holy Emperor himself. "Blessings upon you both," he said as he drew near. "You have questions about the temple?" "Not exactly," said Sarah. "We had just never seen a Surian funeral before." The priest nodded. "It is a lucky thing for you, then. We have seen far too many in recent years." Molly raised an eyebrow. "Was there a war? Plague?" Sarah hadn't heard of either, but until very recently she hadn't known much at all about Ahandria, let alone its Surian population. The priest gave them nearly the same look as had the first man they had spoken to. "Surians are a peaceful people; we do not make war," he said. "As for plague, it is only a spiritual affliction we have suffered. We fled the scourge of the Inquisition after King Alfred ascended the throne of Jal Kufri. Surely you must have heard what happened?" "So soon?" whispered Sarah to herself. Molly glanced uneasily at Sarah, who looked somewhat stunned. "We've been... out of touch. On campaign up north. Please, tell us what happened." The priest studied Molly's face for a moment, then nodded slowly. "It was shortly after King Stephen's death three years ago that Alfred took the throne, and even sooner after that that the Inquisition began to make itself known throughout the kingdom. They burned heretics, shut down Orders that broke with strict Orthodoxy, and, as always, vented their rage on Suri's people." He shook his head sadly, the still recent pain etched in the lines of his face. "Not in two centuries had there been such horror. Many fled into the hills and forests, though that was no guarantee of protection. Those of us who could crossed the border. Elizar's Gap was thick with refugees for weeks until the Inquisitors came to barricade it. Many died during the flight, and even now many are feeling the effects of that journey. Today's funeral is for one of our elders who helped many others survive the mountains. He will be missed greatly by our community." "Thank you, um, Father," said Molly, looking with concern at Sarah's pale expression. "We're sorry for your ordeal." She tried to hurry Sarah away, but she started shaking her head violently and slapping Molly's hands away. "No!" she screamed, her outburst causing the priest to take a step back. "It's all my fault. I should have done something. I should have told someone." "What is she talking about?" asked the priest. Molly fumbled for a moment, then shook her head. She put her arms around Sarah, who collapsed into her chest and sobbing. "She was there when King Stephen was killed. She knew that Alfred would become king, and that he would give the Inquisition a free hand. I don't think she realized then what that meant. Nor did I until now." She stroked Sarah's hair with her hand. "Shh. It's not your fault, Sarah. There was nothing you could do. Even Master Eldridge knew there was no way to stop what was coming, and he must have known what would happen." The priest nodded. "It's true, child. We learned long ago the price of our faith, when our ancestors refused to join the Tavian Crusade. Ever since, the Church has scorned us and what we represent. It is the way of the world, and no one person's fault." Sarah pushed away from Molly, her face streaked with tears. "I might have found someone who would listen. I should have at least tried. Instead, I was only worried about my own neck." She drew her rapier from its sheath with a hiss of metal. Molly's hand went to her own sword, her free hand held out toward Sarah. Though she could easily have disarmed her, there was no need. Sarah reached around and grabbed the long blonde braid that hung down her back. "While these people were suffering, I was only concerned with my own life." she slashed across the base of the braid with her rapier. "My pride, my vanity." She hacked again and again until the braid was completely severed. She threw the braid on the dusty road, where it lay like a dead snake. "I will find a way to redeem myself, or die trying."
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