A Deadly Bite

17 || Light And Dark

Aorila wears a robe of shadow as Sarielle marches a disjointed path through the muddle of houses that forms the town's centre, striding in and out of the folds of early morning. The sun strains to clamber into the sky at her back. Its feeble rays feel like the tips of fingers, wrapped around the horizon in a vain attempt to haul its mass up at any speed faster than the sluggish pace it favours in the year's colder months. As she pauses beside the dark, glassy surface of a pool, checking the hazy map she's attempted to construct in her mind, a chill ripples through the air, skimming over her bones.

Shivering, she reaches up to retie the clasp of her tan cloak tighter around her neck. She purchased it back in late spring; it isn't thick enough to cope with the frost, but it's something to be grateful for. Some of the others don't have cloaks at all.

She has no real reason to resent the slow pass of time. Right now, it benefits her. If she moves quickly, she can be on her way before first light properly floods into view and illuminates her path for others to follow.

Nathan won't have a cloak either, she realises. He must be freezing.

Urgency shoves her back into movement. She darts along the path to the right, running along the memory of the brief tour Fiesi provided her with. It had been half-hearted; he'd been far too distracted to pay her more than a little attention, scarpering into the forest as soon as he could excuse himself to hunt, but she paid close attention regardless. She's grateful now to her father for training her recall through the years.

The house to the right is neat and slender, more carefully put together than those around it, its wooden walls smoothed over. Cream curtains flutter in the place where a door should be. Strokes of yellow and orange paints decorate in swirls around it, as if announcing the colours of sunrise before they arrive. Prophetic, almost.

Sarielle shakes her head. Her thoughts are wandering, dwelling on meaning that isn't there, and she doesn't have time for it. Grabbing the curtain, she yanks it aside and ducks her head to peer into the room.

The light startles her. It's only small, a lantern positioned atop a desk, but she'd been expecting total darkness at this hour. A girl jumps up from the seat beside it. Those sunrise shades blur the scarlet of her dress's skirt with the white-yellow that circles her collar. Atop the desk, a scroll rolls into a cylinder and goes still, as if it is a live creature curling into a fearful ball to hide.

Sarielle shoves back her wonder. No time. "Are you the Jeía in charge of the barrier?" Fiesi did mention the name, but it's slipped her mind in this moment. She curses the jittery nature of her thoughts.

The girl gives a jerky nod, smoothing out her dress with a nervous hand. The light catches on her fingers just a little too brightly, making the tips of them appear to glow, just faintly, such a small spark that it could easily be imagined. "My name is Ellisi," she says. She looks as if she must be somewhere in her early twenties, but her voice still holds the softness of someone far younger. At least she's not as intimidating or filled with snobbery as every other resident of this town seems to be. That should make her task easier.

Stepping fully into the room, Sarielle lets the curtain fall closed behind her. "And your magic can sense people?"

Ellisi shifts. Her hair is a tangled dirty blonde, swaying into her face. "I... don't think you're supposed to be here."

"Well, I am." Sarielle sighs, biting back any harsher retort. This girl doesn't deserve the brunt of a frustration worn thin. "I'm sorry to barge in on you like this, but I really need your help. I'd say I would pay you for it, but..."

Twisting a lock of hair around her finger, Ellisi offers a shy smile. "It's alright. I'll help." She perches on the side of her desk chair. "Who are you looking for?"