Andromeda

Chapter 7

Andromeda stared at the ceiling, her head resting on her pillow. It was firm, colored a plain shade of gray, but comfortable nonetheless. The room was dim and there were no windows to show what it looked like outside, but she could tell it was early morning.

Her fingers tapped the days away, keeping track of how long it had been since she left home. Five nights. Which meant... today was her fifteenth birthday. And she was spending it far away from everything and everyone she knew.

Not everyone, Andromeda gently reminded herself. Sorren's here. That's something. And I'm sure I'll find Chamomile soon—then we can celebrate together.

A door shut, and water started running. Without lifting her head to look, she guessed it was Blizzard getting ready for the day. Slate had explained last night that the inn's purpose was to hide the headquarters, and if nobody came it would seem very suspicious. So, there was a handful of locals that visited, and occasionally they would pick up some new customers.

There were two more shutting of doors, signaling that Blizzard had left to go upstairs. Soon after, a bed nearby creaked, and a slight turn of Andromeda's head revealed Slate getting up, too. He yawned, shuffled over to a spot on the wall, and flicked on the lights.

Andromeda had to pull the blanket over her eyes to shield them from the sudden brightness that invaded her sight. "Nooooo, it's too earlyyy," Sorren groaned from the bottom bunk.

Slate yelped. "Sorry, I forgot you were here! But it's seven o'clock, don't you think that's a good time to wake up?"

"NO," Sorren said. "What even is 'seven o'clock?'"

"You don't use a system of time?"

Andromeda sat up and stretched, braving the glaring lights. "We have time-candles at night, and just follow the sun during the day. It's easier that way."

"Interesting." Slate's fingers twitched as if looking for a notebook and pen, and he sighed. "Sorry, I know this must seem weird. I promise I won't ask questions anymore."

"It's alright, I don't mind," Andromeda said.

"Why do you even want to know all this?" Sorren said. "You'll probably never go to Leoral."

"I hope I can." Slate pulled a book off the shelf and flipped through it. "I just... I want to know everything there is to know. A lot of things have been discovered about Icekeep, but there's hardly any information about Leoral. I want to write about your country and compile it into one book, or maybe a series of books, so anyone can learn about it."

"That seems pretty cool!" Andromeda slid off the top bunk, her feet thudding against the cold floor when she hit the ground. "I can help you with it, if you want."

Sorren glared out from over their blanket. "It seems unnecessary. Most people in Leoral can't even read and besides, they live there, they don't need a huge-ass book about it."

"That's why we're going to teach everyone how to read," Andromeda said. "And besides, there's people in Icekeep! We would benefit if we tried to learn from each other."

"Exactly!" Slate said. "That's what Cliff says. He wanted to create a connection between the two Orders, but Chamomile never replied."

Andromeda frowned. "That doesn't seem right. Why wouldn't she? I mean, it would help the Dandelion's mission, and it would be helping even more people."

"I don't know," Slate shrugged. "She's your leader."

A buzzing noise came from a strange device on the wall—it had a circle full of tiny dots. Blizzard's voice was projected through the device, the sound fizzling and crackling.

"Just heard back from Cliff," the gruff voice said. "He'll be here in a couple of hours. Slate, keep our guests comfortable until then."

Slate turned to face Andromeda and Sorren, who was grudgingly getting out of bed, a smile spread across his face. "You're going to love Cliff. He's the best."

In the hours that passed, Slate told them all he could about the leader of the Iceberg. Cliff had founded it six years ago, and it had been growing ever since. He had contacted people he knew that were unhappy with their current situation and asked them to join. There had been a few close calls with the President, and they had been forced to give up some of their bases, but they hadn't lost any members. Andromeda listened, enraptured, as Slate explained how the Order operated. They added splashes of color to the city with paint sometimes, although that was their more dangerous work; usually, they handed out fliers that encouraged creativity, and helped fund secret libraries for fictional works.

When Slate asked how the Order of the Dandelion helped Leoral, Andromeda was prepared with a reply.

"Well, we all learn magic of course—at least, those of us who can. And whenever we can spare them, we send Magicals out to remote villages to teach people with the potential for doing magic. We also try to educate them as best as we can and hand out money."

Sorren snorted, causing Andromeda to jump. She hadn't known that they were listening; they had been sitting in a chair at the other side of the room with their eyes closed and their head tilted to face the ceiling.

"You realize that does nothing, right? Educating the poor is useless if there aren't any jobs to put that education towards. And forget about going to a city to get one—it's not like people are just handing them out, and you need to be rich to start your own business. Oh, and don't even get me started on the chances of your village getting attacked and destroyed bandits. It's useless. Damn useless."

"T-that doesn't mean it doesn't help, we've done a lot of good—"

"Jeez, how naïve can you be?" Sorren got to their feet. "I'm going upstairs to the inn. Gonna see how Blizzard is doing."

After the door slammed shut and they were gone, Andromeda sighed. "I don't know what's going on with them. They've been acting so strange lately..."

"Oh." Sorren fidgeted with the book he was holding. "So, your Order really hasn't been doing well lately? I figured that since Chamomile didn't respond, you must be doing fine."

"I thought we were. No, we are." Andromeda sat a little straighter. "Just because everything isn't perfect doesn't mean we aren't doing any good. We've helped a lot of people, you know! I guess it just upsets Sorren since, well..."

"What?"

"I've lived in the Order of the Dandelion my entire life. My father helped found it, actually, and Chamomile raised me after he, uh—after he died. It hasn't always been easy, but the Order sticks out for each other. But Sorren didn't have that. They were born in some remote village, and everyone knows those are the worst. Everyone lives in poverty and they're prone to bandit attacks. I guess eventually Sorren's parents finally ran out of money, and they sold them to the Queen."

Andromeda paused for a few moments, and Slate was silent, not even daring to breathe.

"Servants of the Queen get treated horribly, especially the indentured ones," she continued. "Luckily, Sorren isn't one to follow along quietly, and they escaped and ran to the forest. That's where we found them. I guess since they experienced the harshness of Leoral firsthand, this sort of thing matters a lot to them."

"Oh," Slate said quietly. "I didn't know things like... that happened over there."

"Me neither, until we found Sorren." Andromeda gave him a weary smile. "At least they're okay now, though, right?"

Slate looked as though he were about to say something, but at that moment the door opened, and Blizzard came in, wiping his hands on his stained apron.

"You'd better get ready," he grunted. "Cliff's here."

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Thanks so much for reading! Don't forget to vote and leave feedback if you have any, I'd love to hear it :)

Sorry for the late update, I had a lot going on the last couple of weeks and just didn't have time to write this chapter. I hope you liked it anyways :)