Reidier

6: Araldia

A/N: This chapter.... *rages* It was hard to write, and I kept getting stuck... and it came out... awful... and so darnably SHORT. Ah well. As usual, constructive critism, feedback etc welcome.




Araldia kept her distance from Lumis as they walked. The garden was almost completely empty when they finally left. It was cold, bitterly so; there were goosebumps dotting her arms and back, and she stumbled, not once, not twice, but countless times as they walked. Lumis noticed the uncontrollable shivering and offered his coat. He was spurned three times before Araldia finally relented.










The coat actually did not do much; the material was too thin, and the cut was too loose. The bite of autumn and night combined was merciless, all consuming. It even made her forget the fear tying her belly into pastry-like knots.




She did not notice that they were stopping at first. Lumis slowed down, his footsteps growing less sure, and more uncertain as he marched towards... something. It was lit, but not brightly. Just enough to make out a shape.




Araldia frowned. She glanced down at the coat, with its frays and patches.




The dim shape ahead, with light leaking from its windows like milk out of a holey bucket- it wasn't quite a house; in fact, it was probably a disused stable, but nevertheless it looked livable enough. Unbearable in winter, when the snows came, or spring, when the rains made everything muddy, but definitely livable enough.




"This is where you live?" she asked, just for confirmation.




But he did not answer. Instead, he glanced at her and ran a knuckle along his lips. The universal gesture for "shush".




He walked ahead, eyes fixed on the windows. Araldia wondered at this sudden quiet. Crickets chirped and the wildcats fought, but all those sounds faded out of her hearing. She wondered if she should stay here. Maybe she should get away. Maybe this was some sort of ploy to kidnap her and send her south to Chaunce as a slave.




Panic lit a torch at the back of her head. Run. Run. You shouldn't be here. It's too quiet. There's no one to hear you scream.




Lumis was halfway to the entrance, and still walking forward.




Run, you stupid girl!




Instead she walked forward. So what if she might end up being sold in a southern slave market? Nothing of worth happened in her life anyway. It was day after day of endless drudgery. On some level she was afraid, but then, the thought of a future of nothing but cleaning, and scrubbing, and serving- that was just as terrifying.




The only difference is that this danger is uncertain. And Araldia was sick of certainty.




The light in the stable flickered; the windows and the largest holes were shaded by some fabric, ripped and half-transparent. As she drew closer an indistinct shadow bloomed on the cloth. A silhouette. Someone was sitting inside.