A Tale of Crown and Country

Tavin

Tavin wasn't sure what woke him up first: the sun, or his sister's incessant banging on the door.

    They had agreed to be up before the sun. And by the time life in Brekka was beginning to stir, they would be gone from the inn. Tavin felt as if he had only just closed his eyes, but here it was, morning again.

    "Tavin? You'd better be up."

    "I am, I am," he said, shooting upright and leaping out of bed. He pulled his socks and boots on at the foot of the bed and wrestled his dagger into place on his belt just as Nasta opened the door. She had gotten impatient, as she always did.

    "You look like you just got out of bed," she commented dryly.

    "No I didn't," he said, aware that he sounded breathless, "I've been up for hours. Where have you been?" Changing the subject, putting the weight back onto her, was his best chance at fooling his sister.

    It didn't work.

    "You have that same look on your face as when you wake up late for school and then rush out the door."

    "I have a–No I don't."

    "It doesn't matter. Grab your things, we're headed to the temple!" she squealed the last words. Tavin had never seen her so excited. She was almost jumping out of her boots. Tavin's stomach would have been flip-flopping, but he had no doubt hers was steady as a rock–though not nearly as heavy.

    Brekka in the morning was a sight. The River District was filled with fishermen and sailors heading out for the day. This early in the morning there were few people out and about. Tavin liked the empty streets. Risterin would have called them eery, especially with some of the river's morning fog creeping over them, but Tavin revelled in the emptiness. He found the stone alleyways comforting, and the absence of people made them all the more enticing to explore. He breathed in some of the moisture in the air, reminding himself that the air he breathed might not be so pure for a long time.

    "Hurry up, Tavin!" Nasta called again.

    At least I'm not adding to my rock collection, he sniped in his head. But he hurried after her all the same.

    The Ice District covered the northern part of the city, and was home to the more impressive buildings in the capital. But none of them compared to the Temple of Rukta. Rain and snow had turned the previously grey stones to a darker, more vivid colour, while time had smoothed out the corners. The temple had been built in a time of great ingenuity. The building had never fallen, even during war, and ice had never penetrated its cracks or threatened to split the stones. Some credited the survival to Rukta herself, but Tavin argued it was simple physics. Twin spires stood high above the city walls and thick glass windows stained in their prime were warped from the weather. Tavin admitted it was a nice building, and when he saw Nasta's reaction to standing before the real-life Temple of Rukta, he couldn't help but be proud at her courage: standing up to their mother, travelling to Brekka, and ultimately following her dreams.

    "This is it," she mumbled to herself.

    A gust of wind blew against Tavin's open coat and he shivered. He would much rather do the marvelling inside.

    Nasta stood, gazing up at the twin spires, unable to tear herself away. Taking things into his own hands, Tavin snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her up the stone steps towards the double wooden doors that loomed overhead.

    Nasta took in a deep breath and swallowed. Taking a step back, Tavin let his sister knock on the door.

    A minute went by, and nothing happened. Tavin wondered if they were too early, if they should come back another day, if they should knock again. Nasta did none of those things. She stood perfectly still. Another minute went by, and Tavin would have knocked if he wasn't too scared of someone getting mad at him for doing so.