Selenite

Chapter 1

I am running.

My calves are burning, and my lungs are filled with the acrid smoke that drifts through the air. The heat at my back acts as a propellant, urging me forward even as the ground becomes steep and covered in loose pebbles.

I know where I need to go.

My movement becomes almost automatic; this is a path I know well from my many journeys to the shrine. The branches of bushes and small trees claw at my arms and legs, but I force myself past them in order to keep myself from slowing. I cant afford to slow down.

The sky is insultingly clear and the day is warm, as if the god of the sun and the goddess of water are mocking the disaster at their feet. They, certainly, would not give me their blessing, especially not now.

I catch a glimpse of the white marble through the birch trees that encircle the clearing where the shrine lies. It is the only structure that remains from the ages past, yet it is still just as beautiful as described in the ancient texts, with the stones that adorn it gleaming in the sun. A small spring ripples at the feet of the Moon Goddess statue, untainted by the bits of ash that seem to have followed me here.

Stopping before the shrine to catch my breath, I look at the path that I chose to reach this spot, checking for signs of my journey up the hill. The pebbles have done well enough to cover my tracks, but the smell of smoke lingers in this space, and has no doubt left a trail for someone to follow. I sit down and assess my injuries. Small scratches cover my arms and legs, as well as several mild burns, but nothing serious. The only thing that looks bad enough to need tending is a burn the size of my hand that stretches across my forearm. The edges of the burn are singed and black, and large blisters are beginning to form.

I rise and make my way over to the pool. Kneeling at the edge, I cleanse my hands, face, and feet of dust and dirt. I soak the burn in the pool for a few moments, letting the water soak into the skin, relieving the pain. The cool water is invigorating, and I feel a new strength seep into my being. This is the safest place for me, at least for the time being.

I bow my head to the sacred figure before me and ask for the goddesss blessing and protection, as well as her forgiveness for not having an offering to present. Rising, I enter the archway that leads to the shrines interior.

The cool marble is soothing to my sore, bare feet. This place is familiar to me; as the keeper of the shrine, I am responsible for the upkeep of the building and the giving of offerings and prayers. I was chosen by the goddess herself for this position at the age of sixteen, and even though it has barely been a year, I have memorized the rooms and passages within.

I make my way to the small bedroom, where I sleep if I am required to stay overnight. The accommodations are bare, but I am grateful. I change into a clean white shirt and black leggings, careful to edge the shirt sleeve around the burn as I pull it on, and place my worn, burnt clothes on a small table. It takes me a minute to find the medical supplies; once I find them, I cover the burn in antibiotic ointment and a layer of gauze. I tie a strip of cloth around my arm to keep the dressing secure, pulling it tight with my right hand and my teeth. I sit on the bed without bothering to pull the covers back, and take a moment to sort through what has happened.

My head feels foggy and the details are unclear, but as I look out the window beside the bed at the thick smoke rising in the distance, I know this much.

The city is burning. My mother is dead.

And its all my fault.