It wasn't far to Tanut, the city they all lived in and around, and it provided a sense of comfort as the small group passed under the old, fire-damaged archway, the smell of both river and ocean washing over them like a cool, comforting hug.

Once they'd entered the city proper, they traipsed quickly past the marketplace, the road lined by stalls with faded grey sails, already beginning to grow busy as business reopened for the remaining daylight hours. Willow led them across a sturdy wooden bridge before settling Bea in her doorway.

The house was in the typical style of the area, made up of three circular buildings, one larger in the front, two smaller directly behind, joined by a short, thin hallway, roof of dried woven grass, greyed and dishevelled, and built of wood, roughly lacquered against the weather.

Bea hugged Willow tightly, and straightened the lace at her collar, appearing nonchalant as she murmured, “I was lucky in a sense. Amelia was staying with me the night the King came, so she at least escaped the same fate.” Bea gently shifted a small piece of cloth to reveal the sleeping ten-month-old tied to her hip. “She hasn't been through a census yet, so I don't think the King even knows about her,” Bea explained.

Willow gave her a smile before hailing down her mother. Esther was a greying woman with deep grief lines etched into her face and a soft smile. She had known Bea most of her life too, having been neighbours before Dickson had taken over the family business. Willow caught her mother's eye, silently begging her to keep Bea company, glancing down at the pale hand holding onto her own like a lifeline to get her message across. Esther nodded surreptitiously, moving forward to place a hand over Bea's shoulders and leading her slowly into the home.

Willow returned her attention to Olivia and Elijah. Grief firmly attached Olivia to her hand, although she remained vacant.

Willow slowly manoeuvred Olivia and Elijah further into the city. Tanut had been built over several intermingling rivers that traversed down toward the sea, and Willow decided to take the longer road back to Elijah and Olivia's. The bridges rarely saw maintenance, and Willow didn't want to risk taking the almost comatose Olivia across some of the more rickety, precarious rope bridges in her current state.

Dotted between buildings, in spaces that may have once been bastions of nature, were shanties. With so little space allowed to them, every surface counted. When the King had herded the people into the city, it was in these spaces the people had taken up residence and, to this day, many of their descendants also lived there. Those forced into Tanut were disadvantaged; many struggled to find work. There just hadn't been enough for the sheer number of people the city had suddenly had to house.

Olivia lived on the far side of town, in a part of the city that had been constructed before the King's time. It was generally agreed that in those days it had been the home of sea merchants and traders, by the calm, clear ocean, near the river's rocky, broken estuary. No such business existed now; the King had destroyed any way for it to be continued when he took over. But the carvings and paintings still existed on the walls in the area. People had inherited most of the homes in the area through the centuries and it was perhaps one of the nicer areas of the town because of it, although around most corners a beggar sat, pleading with passers-by to spare some food.

The secondary reason for taking the path she did was because of the large, carved obelisk they would have to pass. It would have been a harsh reminder of what had just transpired, and Willow did not wish that on her friends in their fragile state.

All around it, the air crackled with malevolent magic, prickling against her skin uncomfortably. It always made Willow anxious, being so close to it. Unless affiliated with the King himself, magic was strictly prohibited. It was a known fact that these pillars were part of his magical detection process, although it wasn't fully clear how exactly that worked. Death would follow swiftly for anyone using magic. Intentional or otherwise.

The King had erected this malign monument and three others like it throughout the city when his reign began, allowing him to view the city from his home, rumoured to be a dark, craggy castle on an island to the south, although no one in the East had ever seen it. Using familiars, dark, wispy raven-shaped imprints, he kept a careful watch on all that happened in the city, and he had eyes everywhere. Several people had even tried capturing and beating the ravens as a preventative measure... they’d all hung for their apparent crimes.

There was no escaping the Raven: even when shattered, they returned to dust and magic. They were reformed at the King's will, usually bringing the King's Guard with them. It was not an uncommon sight to see a raven or two, just flying about, watching city life happen, always vigilant for any signs of descent. People had died for an off-hand comment made in the perceived privacy of their own homes, not noticing the bird benignly perched on their windowsill.

People learnt to guard their tongues and generations’ worth of knowledge had been lost this way, especially after the King had seized all written work. In general, the ability to read nowadays was as rare as privacy, the availability of reading material a genuine barrier to entry and illiteracy ran rampant in the population. The loss of magic had been significant too, although no one now knew exactly what that meant anymore.

Hearsay claimed that before the King many people could use magic, institutions that taught those who had it, how to use it even! The old stories said there had been at least one major school in each of the Realm’s cities, although smaller country schools run by local magicians were also common. The Major schools collected the strongest, and each wing had taught some specialisation of magic, be it common household use to the gift of future vision to the ability to manipulate the weather, magic could manipulate almost anything.

Most people now didn't understand how magic worked, its free use a distant memory. The place that had once been the Capital School was an abandoned ruin, the forest having long since reclaimed the space as its own. Some even claimed the ruins were haunted, the last remaining inhabitants, cut down at The King's hand, still wandering long lost hallways. Nowadays, the only magic permitted was the creation of potions, such as a sleeping draught or healing poultice, using the innate magical properties of the local flora and fauna. Many potions had been lost to time since they required some sort of spell to work. While Willow and many others regretted the loss of that life-saving knowledge, the potions they had available to them now worked just fine; it was hard to truly mourn the loss of something the people had never known.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

As they approached Olivia's home, she seemed to wake a little and Elijah spoke quietly to her, to keep her in the present while Willow continued to direct. As they carefully crossed a sturdy hardwood bridge, Willow waved back to the spear-fishers below before turning to an unassuming door. Olivia paused to hug Willow, attempting to hide her sobs in Willow's shoulder. Willow comforted as best she could.

“I wish the Bearers would return,” Olivia whispered after a moment

The effect was immediate. Willow dropped her arms as if burnt and Olivia stumbled backwards into her husband. Willow frantically studied her surroundings, stretching her hearing for the sound of the Raven's caw while Elijah whispered hurriedly to Olivia.

Once sure that they were safe, even if only for the moment, Willow hissed, “Olivia!” Willow felt dizzy, eyes still darting about the area, searching for danger like a caged animal. “Watch your tongue! Anything could hear you!” Willow attempted to mollify her tone, trying to be understanding of Olivia's fragile emotional state.

“I don't care! There’s only us left now. What more can he take from us?” Olivia spat venomously.

“Yes, dear, I understand," Elijah said soothingly, "but remember that Willow is here. She still has family, love."

Olivia immediately deflated, white-hot anger turning to black horror, “Oh, Willow! I am so sorry! I didn't even think!”

“It's alright, Olivia,” Willow smiled, relieved to be moving away from the topic. She rubbed a weary hand over the scar through her left eyebrow as she scanned the road for any suspicious activity. They’d caught the attention of the spear-fishers and Willow had waved congenially to them to remove the unwanted attention. “You were always impulsive, even when we were girls. Do be careful, sweetie,” Willow cautioned.

Olivia held a pale, shaking hand to her face, covering her eyes. “I think I need to retire for the day.”

Willow nodded easily, and with a final strained hug, Olivia disappeared behind her front door.

“Thank you, Willow,” Elijah said, tipping his hat. “With the loss of my sister, I am in no better shape than my wife. I don't know how we would have made it home without you.”

Willow waved away the thanks with a bright 'that's what friends are for,' before pulling him in for a tight hug and telling him to spend time with his wife. She would find her own way home. He clapped his heels together and saluted her orders with a small smile; Willow bobbed a low, overly formal curtsy in keeping with the joke and Elijah lithely turned to move into his home.

With a deep sigh, Willow made her way back into town with the intent of perhaps treating herself to some sweet treat. As she passed the spear-fishers once more, an old friend of hers sent a splatter of water in her direction with a laugh.

With a laugh of her own, she dodged the second attack, blowing a kiss in his direction before waving goodbye. Re-entering town, still giving the obelisk a wide berth, Willow took stock of her surroundings. The multitudes of people had kicked up dust; it looked like the stalls had been enveloped in some sort of fog. Coughing a little, Willow joined the throng of people, stopping to converse with those she knew every so often.

She met up with several employees while there. Willow employed six people in her little herbalist's shop, and she instructed two of her most senior employees to continue watering the plants the following day but advised all others that the shop would be closed. Willow had always done this out of respect for those taken. Those affected would only have to ask and she would give them extended time away.

While the shop was actually in Richard's name - since women were unable to own property or run business, his will and her dowry stated that ownership of the premise and business would pass to her husband should she marry. It was the best that could be done, given the circumstances. For now, she ran it as the owner, however, and all answered to her, although transactions had to happen through a male employee. Willow did the rest as house-calls.

As the day passed into late afternoon, Willow stopped by the shop to gather her heavy woollen coat. The Autumn nights were quickly becoming chilly and, for that, Willow was excited: the summer had been horrendously hot. Coat collected, she hurriedly locked up and began the walk home.

Willow's family lived outside the city, as far from it as the King permitted, on a farm that had been in the family since before the King's rule. The farm provided a hefty chunk of the food people bought, although they did keep a few sheep, cows and pigs for the families’ use.

As the sun began to set, Willow picked up the pace. The city itself was dangerous at night. Pick-pocketing at knifepoint happened on these roads often after dark, the downtrodden and unemployed made so desperate by hunger that they would attack any unsuspecting victim. All knew the outskirts for far worse behaviour. Any person in their right mind completed all business of the day well before sundown. It was why Olivia rarely kept her so late, for fear of what could happen to her if no one was about to escort her. If they had not been so distracted, Elijah would never have let her walk alone. Neither he nor Olivia needed to know just how well-equipped Willow was to defend herself. That would only lead to the potential for The King's wrath. It was best kept as a family secret, Willow thought.

Relief flooded her when she passed the old, weathered sign marking the entrance to the farm. Willow could just make out the light of her home. Ripe vegetables filled the fields and in the distance to the right, Willow could just hear the rustling of the orchard's leaves. The road she had stepped off was significantly wider than the path winding throughout the fields, but deeply rutted from the carts used to transport the goods from field to storehouse to market. The home itself was like Bea's, made of a large circular building, with short, thin hallways between. The old farm tom had fallen through the roof into the kitchen just a couple of days prior, so the thatching was due for a change and in front of the house, just within sight were stands holding long bundles of reed, drying in preparation for that event. It would probably start after the harvest season finished when Richard and his employees had enough spare time for such things.

As she grew closer, the workmen's housing came into view on the horizon, situated on the far end of the property, a long building with two slightly shorter buildings attached, one for men and one for women painted in the same way as the main home. They lived comfortably in a dormitory type of situation. They would be required to find a home in town if they chose to marry, but this situation worked for the young, single worker. The men earned their keep by helping in the field; the women helped with maintaining the preserves and jams.

Making her way up the groaning steps to the porch, Willow shivered a bit when she heard a faint scream from the direction of the city. Soon after, she heard the shouts of the perpetrator being chased down by the People’s Guard, a rotating group of men who had taken it upon themselves to patrol the city each night.

It wasn't a particularly effective system, not enough men across an area too large, it just pushed criminal behaviour deeper into the shadows. But sometimes, like this time, it helped save some poor hapless fool.