A Whisper of Night

20.1 || ZALYNE 🔥

Brennia had collapsed by Ava River a few hours before, and had not gotten up since.

Had it not been for the faint pulsing of her heart, Zalyne would've panicked. Instead, she resigned herself to sitting in the mud, her face turned towards the drizzling sky. She was unbelievably exhausted, her legs quivering in the mud. She could not feel the slightest bit of hunger, so numbed was her stomach after days without food.

Zalyne sat facing the river, shivering slightly beneath the rain. The river itself was swollen, storming down the weed-strewn banks with a sort of frenzied urgency. She could glimpse the other side of the bank from here.

At least they were out of Slagvald, Brennia had mumbled before she'd fallen face-first into the mud.

But, Zalyne reflected gloomily, they were far from the reaches of the Lion Queen. In fact, they might be in more danger here, in the province of Lady Aeslyn Norrayn. Zalyne had heard all too many tales of Queen Lleona's sister.

Here, they were miles from the nearest city. They had passed small towns on the way down the river, but had not dared to stop at any of them for fear of recognition. Zalyne had lost track of the days since she and Brennia had escaped from the Alchemists, but she knew it had to be at least a week.

And in that time, she hadn't heard any news about Queen Majaeyra, Princess Scirocca, or even of themselves. All the towns they had dared show their faces in seemed either massively confused or unbelievably apathetic.

"Zalyne?" Brennia mumbled.

Zalyne turned towards her. "What?"

"We should go," she said. "Before someone finds us here."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. That's what I've been telling you for the last two hours. Still, she shrugged and stood up, wincing as the mud clung to her tattered clothes. "Come on, then."

Brennia extracted herself from the mud, making a face as she spat out a clump of weeds. "What was I thinking?"

She shrugged again. "Come on. We can find food at one of the cities - Saelia, was it?" From what she recalled, it was a bit west of where they stood. They would only need to head in that general direction before they found a wagon or trader of some sort.

Slowly, the two girls started away from the river. The rain strengthened, and chills overtook Zalyne.

"Here," Brennia said, pulling her cloak from her shoulders and tossing it to Zalyne. She caught it in surprise.

"N-no," Zalyne protested. "It's f-fine - "

"Take it," she said. "If you die, I'm going to be very lonely. I can deal with a few hours of cold."

Zalyne hesitated, then swung the cloak over her shoulders. Although it was lightweight, it felt warm. "Thank you."

They walked in silence. Skeynvald was drastically different from Slagvald, with its perpetual rains and dreary skies. No wonder everybody here was always on their toes - with a climate like this, Zalyne wouldn't be able to stand anything.

"Zalyne," Brennia said, her voice hushed. "There're wagons."

Zalyne spun around. Indeed, two of what looked like caravans were rumbling towards them. She could hear the chattering of voices, both low and high, and what sounded unmistakably like chains.

"Hide," she murmured, glancing around wildly. But there was nothing to hide behind or under - damn this soggy, forsaken land! - and -

The caravans were coming closer. Yes, those were the jangling of chains....