𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝙾𝚏 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚜 | ✏️

𝔙ℑℑ // 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢

    I make my grand escape at midnight, sneaking out of my house with the Vial clutched tightly in my hand. A rucksack is slung over my shoulder, my clothes and some food thrown inside. I can't risk bringing more, can't risk anyone seeing me.

    The air is hazy with smoke; my village is in the area of Kyrilla that has been ravaged by fire. Even now I can see flickering flames in the distance. Guilt squeezes my heart - this is all my fault - and I quickly turn my head and hurry away. The nagging feeling is still there though, that little itch in my brain that tells me something isn't right, the faery isn't to be trusted.

    But who could I tell? No one would believe me, and anyway, to tell would mean revealing that I have the vial. I'd be killed before I finish telling the story.

    No, the only option is to flee, to find somewhere I can lay low and find out more about the faery. I only know of one place where the records and books are kept: the castle.

    And that posed another question - if I made an escape to the castle, I would surely be recognized. There is no way to lie low when I am a well-known member of the King's Hunting Party. How was I going to get in and find the information I needed (which surely would be hidden away) without blowing my cover?

    Not for the first time, I wish I had accepted Brian's offer for help, but again, I push that thought away. I had told him that this is my fight, and I'm not going to go back on my words now.

    How to get into the castle, I think, without anyone paying attention to me. Then it hits me. A servant! I nearly yell out loud, but stop myself at the last moment; I can't risk giving myself away so early in the escape.

    But it makes sense. Many people make their way to the castle in hopes of being employed there, and a place that large is always in need of workers. Getting a job as a library aide or an archivist would get me close to the restricted section of the archives. I need to figure out what's up with the faery as fast as possible, and this is the best way to do it.

*****

    The journey to the castle passes slowly. Forced to only move at night, I steal naps during the daytime, hidden in the brush at the edge of the forest. My food supply is dwindling quickly, and I make myself ration the water so I don't run out. I refuse to steal from others, especially since the natural disasters are wreaking havoc on their villages, and I don't want to risk venturing into the forest for water. So I grin and bear it, and keep walking.

    Finally, finally, I reach the castle. Of course I've been here before, but the majestic structure still takes my breath away. Then I remember that I'm posing as an orphan looking for work, and make myself look even more awestruck.

    I doubt anyone will recognize me, since days of traveling and sleeping in bushes has left me so dirty and bedraggled that I hardly recognize myself, but I still look down as the guards size me up in the doorway.

    Thankfully, this is normal behavior for lower class citizens, especially when faced with armed guards. I remember doing it when I had first arrived, though I later learned that I was an equal to the guards due to my spot in the Hunt. Now, a pang of longing passes through me, as I remember that I am no longer a Hunter. I am a servant, but a good one, because I can read and write.

    Once I stutter out my purpose to the guards, they let me into the entrance hall. Again, I look around in wonder. The hall is large, with a domed ceiling painted with a scene of the faery gifting the King the Vial of Starlight. I cringe away and look elsewhere.

    The guards lead me to an office off the edge of the entrance hall, where the Master of Work resides.

    "H-honorable Master, sir," I stammer, looking down, "I c-come requesting a job."

    It kills me inside to do this, knowing that just a few months before I was of equal status, if not higher status, than this man in front of me. But what kills me more is that the man doesn't bat an eye at my shaking voice, or the immediate deference of who he assumed was a lower class citizen. People shouldn't be treated like this, and I used to think I could change it. Now, a missing person (or a fugitive, depending how you look at it) pretending to be an orphaned servant, there is no way I can reclaim the life I lost.

    The Master looks me up and down, and I look away before I can meet his eyes. "What skills do you have?" he asks, "What qualities make me want you?"

    I stutter out a reply, "I c-can read, sir. A-and write."

    "Can you bookkeep?" he replies.

    "Y-yes, Master, sir," I choke out. Ugh. I hate calling him 'Master, sir'.

    "Fine," he says, a wave of his hand dismissing me. "You will be a library aide. Master of Books will assist you."

    "Oh, thank you sir. Thank you," I bow my head in gratitude, but also to conceal my growing smile. I'm in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Written November 12, 2023

Word count: 929