𝙰 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚃 🇴‌🇫‌ 𝙼𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙸𝙽𝚂 🇦‌🇳‌🇩‌ 𝙼𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙾𝚆𝚂

III

Feyre had been easy to spot within the bustling crowd at the market. Even had she not, the thread of fate practically coaxed me towards the young woman. As if trying to entice me to get there sooner. I could see her sister beside her, no doubt trying to encourage a generous hand from Feyre towards their plights. 

"Feyre." My call caused my favourite mortal to snap her head towards me, a beaming smile taking over her features. "Cyri! I was worried we wouldn't find each other." Her statement was followed through with her arms wrapping tightly around me. I smiled down at her, embracing her figure gently. "Did you truly think you could be rid of me that easily darling Feyre?" 

Feyre pulled back from the embrace, rolling her eyes at the statement before gesturing towards her two sibling. "I don't believe proper introductions were held under yesterday's... Circumstances. This is Nesta my eldest sister, and Elaine my elder sister." Both name was followed with a slight pause as she gestured to each of the sisters in turn. The three Archeron siblings were identical when it came to their golden-brown locks. The main difference between the three were Elaine's golden brown orbs which she shared solely with her father. The other two sisters shared the same blue-gray eyes, though Nesta's gaze held little to no mirth. 

"Nesta, Elaine. This is my friend Cyrilla." I could feel Nesta's scrutinizing gaze as she looked me over from head to toe. Her gaze was sharp, where as Elaine simply smiled politely in my direction. "Pleasure to meet you both," I tilted my head downwards in greeting. 

The four of us continued our journey into the market. The smell of hot spices wafting through the air to great us. I could practically hear the stomachs of my companions growl as the tantalizing scents begged our follow. I debated upon suggesting stopping for something delicious, the thought dying on my lips as we stumbled into other villagers. 

"May the Immortal Light shine upon thee, sisters," spoke the pale-robed woman we had bumped into. 

The two elder sisters clicked their tongues in disdain as Feyre fought back the sound of a groan. It had been a long time since I had last run into the Children of the Blessed. The thought that there was still the fanatic cult worshipping the high fae peeked my interest slightly. I had thought they may have died out when the wall had been built. Apparently not. 

The pale woman reached out her hands in greeting, silver bells tinkling at the small movement.. "Have you a moment to spare so that you might hear the Word of the Blessed?"

"No," the sneer was clear in Nesta's voice as she took the liberty to nudge her younger sisters along, "We don't."

The midnight haired maiden simply continued to smile, back peddling to stay near the sisters, "It would be but a moment, I assure you." Behind her, stood at her stall was a handful of young mortals. Both men and women with uncut hair, and clean kept faces. Their eyes scouring the crowd no doubt looking for their next convert. 

I watched as Nesta's back straightened, the ever present sneer still upon her nose as she looked down it at the woman in disgust, "Go spew your fanatic nonsense to some ninny. You'll find no converts here." The statement caused the woman to shrink back, a shadow flickering over her brown gaze. Nesta pushed the sleeve of her coat up showing the iron bracelet on her wrist as she continued to berate the woman. 

"You see this?" The question was followed with an advance from the eldest Archeron, the acolyte retreating with each step forward that Nesta took. "This is what you should  be wearing. Not some silver bells to attract those faerie monsters." 

"How dare you wear that affront to our immortal friends—"

"Go preach in another town," Nesta spat at her.