For as long as she could remember, Tullia could only imagine one life for herself. She would turn twenty and discover her patron deity and serve them out in the world for five years. Then on her twenty-fifth birthday, she would return to the temple and take over, letting her mother retire. She would run the temple until her future child turned twenty-five, and then she too would retire. It may not be an exciting future, but it was the future she had been raised for. The future she wanted. This was why on the morning before her twentieth birthday she woke up early to help her mother prepare the sanctuary hall for the ceremony. To say she wasn’t nervous would be a lie. She tried not to let her mind wander as she cleaned the old altar at the front of the room. The altar was mostly wooden with a smooth stone slab in the center. It usually housed various candles, flowers, and incenses along with written prayers.
“How will you address them if they are one of The Amoureux?” Tullia’s mother, Ghita, quizzed her.
“With my right hand over my heart.” Tullia paused her cleaning to show her mother.
“And?” Ghita gazed down at her, one eyebrow raised incredulously.
“And……” Tullia hesitated.
“You would bow as you would for any of the other gods.” Ghita frowned at her daughter. “Lia, the ceremony is tomorrow. You have to know these things.” She pointed at the altar. “ When you are done cleaning the basin, I want you to practice your greeting. Once for each of the Divines.” Tullia began to protest but was cut short by her mother clearing her Throat. “ I don’t want to hear it, Lia. No breakfast until you are done.”
“Yes, mother,” Tullia said hotly, as she placed the basin back onto the altar. “Slave driver.” She mumbled under her breath.
“I heard that,” Ghita called as she finished polishing the floor. “You can start those greetings now.” Ghita stood silently, her hands on her hips as she watched her daughter perform the greeting ceremony twelve times over. Once she was satisfied she left the main hall to prepare breakfast. Tullia groaned, her knees sore from kneeling on the hardwood floor. Of course, in the actual ceremony she would have a cushion to kneel on, but today the main hall was almost empty to allow heavy cleaning. The only remaining furnishing, the large wooden altar at the front of the room. Her mother usually had it decorated with dried echinacea flowers and several small agate sculptures. Her mother was a paladin of Jaya, and so was her grandmother and great grandmother. And of course, Tullia was sure she would be too. She imagined how easy chores would be once she awakened to her powers. Having grown up in a convent full of men and women with enhanced strength was tough. Especially when you were as petite as she was. But it would all come full circle. She smiled, reassured that everything was going to go smoothly.
“If your mother catches you sitting around like that, she’ll have a cow.” Tullia jumped, startled by the large and unsurprisingly, shirtless frame in the doorway.
“Jasper!” She exclaimed. “Don’t creep up on me like that.” Jasper was a young man, only three years her senior. She had always been jealous of his flaming auburn hair and oak brown eyes. And his freedom. While he was out playing in tournaments and walking around shirtless, she was stuck at home studying.
“Not my fault you’re so empty-headed.” Empty headed. Tullia rolled her eyes. Jasper had called her that since they were young. He offered her a hand, which she gladly took. She watched his taut muscles as he pulled her to her feet. “See something you like?” Jasper chuckled. Tullia’s face turned red as a tomato. Turning her face away, she punched him lightly in the shoulder. He feigned pain, clutching his shoulder dramatically.
“You’re back early. I thought you were coming back on Monday.” She turned back to face him, changing the subject. He raised one steadfast auburn eyebrow before replying with a frown. “Yeah, there was an outbreak in Citta. We decided not to risk it. There will always be other tournaments.” The air grew stale in Tullia's lungs.
“Citta? That’s only two days away. You don't think it’ll spread here, right?” It is a deadly disease that had broken out in Herrschaft, the country to the north of Patria. Since the first cases, it had spread rapidly, killing off entire villages.
“No. The roads have already been blocked and the townspeople are staying away from each other. Hopefully, it’ll pass us by.” The two stood awkwardly, taking in the bleak atmosphere. “Uh. Your mother probably has breakfast ready. Let's forget the unpleasant things and go eat.” Jasper rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “You might wanna get dressed first.” Tullia gasped. She had been so caught up with Jasper that she had forgotten what she was wearing. Being so excited to start preparations in the morning, she hadn’t bothered to change out of her night slip. Instead, she had haphazardly tucked it into a pair of work trousers. Rather than brushing her hair, she had pulled it into a messy and decidedly knotted bun. She looked at her bare feet, embarrassed. She wouldn’t have minded if the others had seen her this way, but it was entirely different in front of Jasper. Sure the two had grown up together, but she had always been conscious of how he saw her. Face hot, she quietly shuffled up to her room to get ready for the day. She chose a blue skirt and a pink bodice piece, slipping them over a white under gown and brown stockings, before combing out her hair. She sat in front of her small vanity mirror as she worked her light brown hair into a braided crown. Finally, she double-checked her appearance before slipping on a pair of pink flats and heading to the dining hall.
Jasper was standing outside the dining hall door when Tullia approached. He held a single finger to his lips signaling for her to be quiet. Tiptoeing closer, Tullia put her ear to the door.
“What is Lord Rossi thinking, letting them enforce such laws here?” Ghita moaned. Tullia and Jasper flinched. She only used that voice when she was absolutely livid. “Honestly, who are they to say which god is right and which is wrong. Blasphemers! All of them!”
“The Holy Church of Herrschaft,” Jasper whispered. “It seems that Lord Rossi has decided to establish them as the province's official church.” Tullia listened thoughtfully. Lord Antonio Rossi, was the ruler of the Province of Calpa in Patria. He was a cowardly ruler, who hardly ever left his castle. Tullia wasn’t surprised that he had given in so easily, though she didn’t blame him. The Holy Church of Herrschaft was known for their assertive diplomacy and despite how welcoming they seemed now, they had been the cause of a bloody war less than twenty years prior.
“The Holy Church.” Tullia furrowed her brows in thought. They were different from almost every other religion on the continent of Eges. While it was true that they believed in the same gods, they valued one god in particular. The sun god Licht. Licht was their version of the merciful Jomei, and he was completely different. He was a vengeful god that the Herrschaften empire had used as an excuse to start the Bloody Crusades, a long and gruesome war that had lasted for hundreds of years. Compared to Licht, they viewed the other Divines as lesser spirits and even claimed some of them were evil. They were well known for the strict enforcement of their beliefs. Tullia frowned. She didn’t like the idea of someone telling her what she should believe in.
“We should be ok,” Jasper whispered, pulling Tullia out of her deep thoughts. “Jaya isn’t a main part of their religion, but they didn’t vilify her like Helene and Rene.” Tullia was deep in thought, when the dining room doors swung open, startling her. Her mother, Ghita looked at her, an unsatisfied frown set into her wrinkled skin.
“No need to eavesdrop.” She said dryly, pouring emphasis into the last word. “You are both adults now. Act like it.” Tullia and Jasper flinched in unison before quietly shuffling to the table. Ghita let out a haughty sigh before taking her place at the head of the table. “Eat up. You both have a lot of work to do today.” Tullia groaned inwardly. It was going to be a long day.
The rest of the day, which to Tullia felt like forever, was spent deep cleaning the various rooms and courtyards around the temple. By the time she got around to sweeping the west courtyard, the sun had already begun to sink low in the northwestern sky. She could smell the faint scent of barrenwort and echinacea. Her mother had initiated the evening prayer. Something that Tullia could not partake in until she discovered her patron. She sighed to herself, sweeping leaves off the cobblestone walkway.
“Jaya.” She thought out loud.
“Goddess of Celebrations, Tournaments, and Victory.” Tullia was shocked by the rough voice that cut through the silence. “So that's who this convent serves?” The owner of the gruff tone was a rather disheveled looking man. His greasy dark brown hair hung in his eyes. Rugged stubble clung to his face like mold on bread.
“C-can I help you, sir?” Tullia inched closer, trying to ignore the smell of dirt and sweat that emanated from the man. Although she couldn’t see his face, Tullia was sure that he was at least in his late forties. His back was hunched and he leaned all his weight onto an unstable looking cane. He paused for a moment as if to weigh his options.
“Well-” He was cut off.
“Tullia!” Jasper stepped in between the two, his arm held in front as if to shield her. “Can I help you?” He didn't try to hide the disgust in his voice. If the scruffy man was surprised, he didn’t show it.
“I hope so. My name is…. Bryson.” He held out his hand for Jasper to shake. “I was looking for a place to stay, although I don’t know if this convent offers such a thing.”
“We don’t.” Jasper snarled, clearly ignoring the man's hand. “Sorry, but I’ll have to ask you to leave now.” The man let his hand hang in the air for a few moments before shuffling off into the night. “Are you alright?” Jasper turned to focus on Tullia.
“Yes, I’m fine. Why’d you chase him off? We could’ve at least let him stay in the paddock.” Although the man looked dirty, Tullia still felt that they should help him.
“You need to be more conscientious, Lia!” Jasper scolded. “What would you have done if he attacked you? You can’t fight and you aren't strong or fast like the rest of us.” With each word, Tullia could feel her mood souring. After all these years, he still treated her like a child.
“Oh please! What could he have done? I’m not a child!” She barked. “He was a harmless old man, not a daemon.” She turned to leave but was impeded as Jasper grabbed her arm.
“He had a knife!” His voice echoed into the distance. “ I saw it under his cloak when he tried to shake my hand. Besides, who wears a cloak like that in the middle of August?” He muttered, looking at his feet. “Anyways, you should get some rest. You have a big day tomorrow.” Dropping his arm to his side. He shuffled back inside, a pout plastered to his usually handsome face. Tullia hated that side of him. He was a master of guilt-tripping. She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.
“Ug. I’ll apologize tomorrow,” she said, dragging her tired body to bed. After such a busy day, she was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.
The sky was black as ink. In fact, everything was black. Tullia stumbled as the inky blackness shifted below her.
“-llia” A faint light appeared in the distance. She moved towards it slowly, unsure of her footing. “Tu--ia” A faint voice drifted through her ears, as though the very wind was speaking to her. “Tullia. Tullia!” The voice grew louder as she drew closer to the light. “TULLIA!” Suddenly light, like a thousand torches, burned white. Tullia cried out as it hurt her eyes. But try as she might, she could not look away. Instead, she stood trapped in a silver glow. As her eyes adjusted she saw that it wasn’t a torch but the moon. The moon stood in front of her like a magnificent blinking eye. Wait. Blinking? She blinked, rubbing her eyes before taking another look. The moon… Blinked? The thought made her feel as though a thousand insects were crawling under her skin.
“Wha-” She began to speak but bit her tongue harshly as the ground erupted into flames, swallowing her up. She cried out as the flames licked at her bare skin.
“Tullia? Tullia!” The thick smoke poured into her throat, cutting off her cries. “Tullia! Wake up!”
Tullia bolted upright in her bed, breathing heavily and covered in sweat.
“Are you ok, Lia?” Ghita watched her with a concerned gaze. “You were crying.” Tullia’s hand subconsciously went to her neck.
“I…..” She swallowed hard, letting her hand fall back to her side. “I’m ok.” She stated, taking a deep breath. “I think I had a nightmare, but I can't really remember what it was about." Her mother's face only grew more concerned. “Mother. If you keep frowning like that, you’ll get more lines in your face.” She poked at her mother's forehead with her index finger. “I had a nightmare because I'm a little anxious about the ceremony. It’s no big deal.” She wished she felt as confident as she sounded. Ghita inhaled sharply.
“Alright. Hurry up and get ready. Everyone’s waiting for you downstairs.” As her mom left the room, Tullia frowned. No matter how hard she tried, she had a feeling that she would never remember her dream. She sighed as her feet hit the polished wooden floor. Today was her twentieth birthday and the day of her patron ceremony. It sounded grander than it was. In reality, Tullia would spend the next twenty-four hours kneeling in prayer. She wouldn't be allowed to eat or sleep until she made contact with her patron. On top of all of that, she had to wear the ceremonial gown. The wretched gown had been passed down from generation to generation. Each new wearer was to add something to the heavy cotton dress. Tullia had worked the last few weeks to embroider a floral border along the neckline. The floor-length dress sat folded on the end of her bed. Grumbling to herself, she pulled the itchy cloth over her skin. At five feet and three inches, she was a great deal shorter than the other woman in her family. The heavy cotton fabric of the gown pooled around her feet, threatening to trip her. She was glad to see that at least the bodice fit her. Rolling up the sleeves, she began to braid her hair in a fishtail, adding in bits of white ribbon. She stared at herself in the dusty mirror. She looked like a child trying on her mother's clothes. Letting out a long sigh, Tullia hiked up the long skirt and carefully walked down the stairs. Her cheeks turned red at the realization that almost the whole temple was waiting for her.
“You look beautiful, Lia.” Her mother was standing to the side of the stairs holding a small silk cushion. “Here.” She said, handing the cushion to Tullia. Tullia smiled nervously as her mother walked her to the main hall. Each step closer, she struggled not to trip over the long skirt. Jasper was waiting by the large wooden doors.
“Lia. Good luck.” He said putting his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be done in no time and we can-” He was cut off by Ghitas piercing glare. “Ah. Anyways. See you on the other side.” He smiled awkwardly before disappearing down the corridor.
“Tullia.” Ghita cleared her throat. “I want you to know how proud I am.” She rested her hands on Tullia’s shoulders, looking her in the eyes. “I know you may be nervous, but I also know you’ll do fine. I…” She looked as though she harbored thousands of words in her chest. “ I’ll tell you after.” stepping to the side, she gestured for Tullia to continue. Tullia nodded, too nervous to speak, and pushed through the heavy oak doors.
The main hall was dark and cold in the early morning and for once she was thankful for the thick cotton fabric of the dress. Gingerly, Tullia tiptoed towards the large altar in the center of the room. It was jarring to see it so empty as all of the usual clutter had been removed in preparation for the ceremony. Instead of the usual clutter, there were only twelve plain white candles. One for each of the Divines. Setting the cushion on the floor in front of the altar, Tullia knelt and lit a match. Carefully she lit each of the candles before bowing in prayer.
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Ghita waited in the dining hall, her foot tapping the floor anxiously. She tried to keep all of the bad thoughts from entering her head, but they pushed through anyway. What if something went wrong? What if she was interrupted and never made contact with her patron? These thoughts rang like church bells in her head.
“How do you think she's doing in there?” Ghita jumped, whirling around to find Jasper seemingly lost in thought. The young man was leaning casually against the doorway, staring off into the distance. Ghita couldn’t help but feel irked by the redhead’s indifferent attitude.
“I’m sure she’s fine.” She snapped. “What do you want?” Jasper raised his eyebrow before holding his hands up dramatically.
“Hey. I just wanted to ask a question. No need to bark.” He moved closer, making Ghita feel unnerved.
“What?” She subconsciously leaned away.
“What will happen if her patron is…… unfavored by the holy church?” Jasper dropped his voice to barely above a whisper. Ghita froze. She hadn’t thought of that. That coward of a lord would probably rat them out straight away. “Ms. Errani?” Jasper waved his hand in front of Ghitas face. Irritated, she smacked his hand away.
“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.” She turned away from the younger man, hiding the anxiety on her face. She stared out the window apprehensively, as the clouds drifted listlessly through the bright August sky. “Whatever happens, we’ll handle it.” She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest. “Come on. I have work to do and you need to train. No use worrying about things we can’t control.” Jasper wasn’t sure whether she was saying that to reassure him, or to reassure herself. Whatever her reason, he wasn’t going to question it.
“Alright.” He sighed, turning and slowly making his way to the training yard.
“Stop dragging your feet!” Ghita barked. The young redhead jumped and quickened his pace. She smiled slightly, before turning to look thoughtfully out the window. On such a nice day, she thought it would be a shame to not work in the garden. Taking a deep breath and clearing the past conversation from her mind, she grabbed a wicker basket from the kitchen and headed out to the garden.
“Twelve Divines, Rulers of this mortal plane, I, your humble servant, offer my body and soul to you who has chosen me. I will serve you in this life and the next.” Tullia sighed as she haphazardly repeated the prayer for what seemed like the hundredth time. Her knees and calves burned from kneeling for hours. How was she supposed to focus on anything when her spine felt like an iron rod? She shifted to sit on her butt and pulled her knees to her chest.
“Are you even listening?” She stared at the mostly barren altar. A stale silence hung in the room, smothering her thoughts. It itched in her ears, prickling at the nape of her neck. The feeling slowly crept down her spine, causing her to become more aware of the silence that reverberated through her chest. She had just begun to think it strange when she suddenly fell backward, her head spinning. Her green eyes turned white as her body was racked with spasms. She let out a choked groan as she writhed on the hardwood floor. Her mind was filled with visions of the night sky. Shooting stars and the luminous moon danced radiantly behind her eyes, burning into her senses. Gradually, her body stilled as the color returned to her eyes. She lay on her back, staring at the scene unfolding above her. The dusty wooden rafters had disappeared, in their stead, a beautiful scrawling star scape appeared. Tullia’s breath caught in her throat as the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen, emerged from somewhere beyond the sky. She had pale ivory skin that almost seemed to glow against the ink of the night sky. Her hair was as black as coal, and half of it was braided, with several lengths of silver ribbons, into an elegant crown around her head. The rest hung down and piled around her bare feet. Her eyes burned solid white, drawing attention to her strong, heart-shaped face. White robes clung loosely to her shoulders, draping delicately over her legs and pooling around her feet.
“I am Helene.” Her perfectly proportioned downward turned lips barely parted as she spoke. Her voice sounded not unlike a choir of women yet also distinctly like one being. Tullia found herself calm and content before the goddess. “I am pleased that you have survived my influence on your body.” Tullia was speechless and stared awkwardly at the goddess from her position on the hard floor. “Perhaps it is better to appear analogous to you.” The goddess drifted gracefully to the floor, her long brilliant hair shortening and her skin darkening slightly. She shrank to a height similar to Tullia’s, her celestial robes becoming a simple blue dress. Her eyes twinkled a light grey as she approached Tullia. “Is this better? Ah. Perhaps I was too rash and shocked her…” The goddess's voice changed to that of a young girl, as she thought aloud. Tullia’s face paled. The person in front of her looked like a girl no more than sixteen years of age. Where was the beautiful goddess standing before her only moments ago? The young girl studied her face closely.
“Strange.” Tullia’s hands rushed to cover her mouth before she could say more. Great. She had only just met her patron and now she had insulted her. She slowly sat up to face the beautiful youth.
“Is it? I thought this disguise was quite accurate.” The youthful goddess looked at her hands thoughtfully.
“Ah, no. I didn't mean that.” Tullia blurted. The goddess cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Right? If anyone is strange here, it's you. Why would you say something you didn’t mean? And most mortals fall on their faces in front of me, not their rears.” She gestured towards Tullia’s current posture. Tullia gasped, practically flinging herself forward into a bow. “That's better, but please stand and face me. We haven't much time.” Helene offered a hand to pull Tullia to her feet. The goddess's skin felt like cold silk against her hands, and to her embarrassment, she hung on longer than was necessary.
“Ah.. s-sorry.” She stammered, wishing she had pockets. Helene held a mysterious almost childlike smile. “U-um…” Tullia was dumbfounded. Of course, she was taught all about Helene. Helene was the head of the pantheon. She was the noble and pure mother of Reva, the moon, and Rene, The god of reincarnation. But she had always sounded so ascendant and sophisticated in the books. Tullia watched as the youth wandered around the large altar, extinguishing eleven of the twelve candles and talking quietly to herself.
“Hah!” Tullia started at the sudden sound. “This is a temple to Jaya.” The youth spun around. “You were raised here?” Helene’s grey eyes sparkled with meaning. Unfortunately, Tullia was unsure as to what that meaning was.
“Yes.” She answered bluntly. The goddess pouted with furrowed brows.
“I don’t like that,” Helene said, crossing her arms. “A paladin should be raised away from the influence of other gods until they come of age.”
“Ah. I see. That makes sense…” Tullia rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. For a moment there she had actually thought that the goddess looked almost jealous. Helene smiled and jumped up to sit on the flat surface of the altar, letting her dangling legs swing back and forth.
“Let's talk.” She patted the smooth stone surface of the altar lid, gesturing for Tullia to sit. Tullia approached cautiously, never taking her eyes off the goddess. Helene wasn’t known for malicious tricks or pranks, but Tullia couldn’t help but feel anxious about the goddesses' jaunty attitude. Maybe Helene meant to trick her as punishment for her poor manners. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, slowly raising herself to sit on the altar. The goddess leaned forward for a minute, studying Tullia’s profile thoughtfully. “We need to work out some rules.” Tullia was taken aback by the Goddesses’ sudden serious tone. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but you can’t help what you don’t know.” her face grew somber. “The world is a tumultuous place these days. You have to be careful.” Tullia looked at Helene, confusion evident on her face. “I wouldn’t expect you to know having been raised here, but I am not well-liked anymore. Which is why you can’t tell anyone who your patron is. You would be shunned and I need you in a position that people can look up to.” Suddenly, Tullia didn’t find the goddess to be quite so childish. Her anxiety worsened as she thought about what Helene had said.
“Look up to me?” Her voice wavered. She had never been in any type of leadership role in her life. She hated public speaking, or attention of any kind, really. “You mean as a priestess right?”
“As a warrior.”
Tullia balked, searching Helene’s eyes for any kind of spark. Whatever kind of tell the goddess had, it wasn’t showing. She was telling the truth. Tullia had always figured she would be a priestess someday, but she had never once thought of herself as strong enough to fight. The idea was preposterous.
“You can’t be serious.” Tullia protested but was interrupted by a loud scream coming from somewhere outside.
“Dang!” Helene jumped from her spot on the Altar and brushed off her dress. “We’ve run out of time. I’ll have to explain later. For now, you need to run!”
“Wait!” A loud cracking sound echoed through the sanctuary, and the sharp smell of smoke drifted under the doors. “What's going on?” Tullia could feel her heartbeat like a hammer in her chest. She jumped from the altar, any reluctance had faded from her mind. She ran to a window along the side of the room. The window showed into the large western courtyard, but Tullia couldn’t see anything through the thick black smoke swirling through the air. “What do I do?!” She turned back to the goddess for advice, but she was nowhere to be seen. The sprawling nightscape had disappeared, the rafters back in their place.
“Run!” Although she was not physically visible, The goddess's harmonious voice boomed in Tullia’s ears.
“Where?!” Tullia cried out, panic griping at her throat. No answer given, Tullia ran to the large sanctuary doors. Her hands blistered as she pulled on the ornate metal handles. Smoke and flame licked at her feet. “I’m trapped! Help me!” There was no answer, as the goddess was long gone. There was, however, a sharp knock on one of the windows. She whirled around, eyes burning from the smoke. The window on the far side of the room had cracked somehow. Tullia wasted no time, running to the altar and grabbing one of the dull candlestick holders, letting the candle fall to the floor. Hopefully, this would be enough to break the window. The base of the candlestick made a loud noise against the smoky glass, but the window held. She screamed in both fear and frustration. “Let me out! LET ME OUT!” dropping the metal piece onto the floor, she resorted to banging on the hot glass with her fists. Smoke filled her lungs, sapping away any strength that she had. She sunk sullen to the ground. Leaning against the wall and hugging her knees, hot tears fell from her stinging eyes. She had given up. There was nothing she could do. She buried her head in her knees as glum images flashed through her mind. How would her mother look at her funeral, she wondered. Would Jasper be there? Would he cry? Just as she had resigned herself to her fate, the window shattered above her, pelting her back with shards of hot glass. She cried out as a sharp edge cut into her back.
“Grab my hand!” The voice sounded rough like he had inhaled too much smoke. Jasper! She thought it had to be him. Carefully she stood and turned, wary of the broken glass on the floor. A large hand hung through the window, the owner obscured by the smoke. “Quickly, if you don’t mind. I’d like to get out of here before the whole damn place collapses!” Tullia was taken aback by the tone of voice. Never in all their years together had Jasper ever spoken to her like that. The roof made a loud cracking sound above her, and she jumped, grabbing the calloused hand. Before she could steady herself, she was jerked through the window, landing hard against someone's chest. She frowned. Was Jasper wearing such shabby clothes this morning? She rubbed the palm of her hand against the fabric, inquisitively. “Can we get moving, or would you like to stand here and feel me up all day?” Tullia’s face blanched white. That was not Jasper’s voice. She looked up at the man's face. Although he looked much different with his cloak off, she recognized him instantly.
“You! You're the guy from yesterday!” She yelled, still clinging to his shirt. The man frowned, seemingly dissatisfied. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to recognize him. "Bryson" He mumbled.
"What?"
"yesterday, I told you my name was Bryson." Tullia scoffed.
"We both know that's not your real name." He stared at her, discontent evident on his face.
“You know..” He said, a mischievous twinkle forming in his eye. “This would be a lot more pleasant for me if you weren’t so… flat…” He stared amused at Tullia’s chest. She was still clinging to his shirt. She gasped hotly and without thinking, pushed hard against his broad chest, just wanting to get away. The man chuckled to himself as she lost her balance and landed hard on her butt. “You don’t have the best balance do you.” He said with an amused chuckle, offering a hand. She glared at him, picking herself off the ground and dusting herself off. Looking at the man, she realized he was much taller now that he stood straight, holding his cane like a bat. He had to be at least six feet tall. Towering compared to her five feet three inches. His scruffy dark brown hair had been pulled into a messy ponytail, revealing a set of cornflower blue eyes. His dirty face looked haggard but young. He couldn’t have been a day over thirty-five. Tullia scolded herself for being so easily fooled the day before. Her mind raced. If he had to disguise himself like this, then what was he hiding from? Casually, he looked her up and down. "So you were a paladin? Who would've guessed? Nice dress by the way. it looks..." He trailed off, seemingly distracted by something in the air. Maybe he was prone to lapses in concentration?
“Tullia!” Her train of thought collapsed. She turned towards the source of the voice.
“Jasper!” He was covered in soot and smoke obscured most of his body, but she would recognize him anywhere. He was struggling to climb over debris at the far entrance of the courtyard. She started towards him when the dark-haired man behind her grabbed her shoulder.
“It’s dangerous. Let him come to you.” It wasn’t a suggestion. His hand dug into her shoulder, holding her in place. As Jasper approached, she realized he was carrying something. Not something, someone!
“Mom!” She pulled helplessly at Bryson’s hand. Ghita lay lifeless in Jasper’s arms, her face streaked with blood and soot. The older man, surprised, loosened his grip, allowing Tullia to shake free and run towards the smoke-stained pair.
“Wait!” The man let out an exasperated sigh, following behind her. Jasper and Tullia met in the middle of the smoky courtyard. Carefully he lay Ghita on the grass.
“She inhaled too much smoke. That’s not her blood, so I wouldn't worry too much.” Hot tears formed in Tullia’s eyes as she wiped the soot from her mother's face.
“I just told you it was dangerous over here. Do you have a hearing problem as well as a flat chest?” Bryson stalked up angrily from behind her. “Do you have a death wish?” If he had an ounce of empathy for her mother, he wasn't showing it.
“Who the hell are you?!” Jasper stood up practically puffing out his chest.
“Bryson. Divines, does nobody here bother to remember names?” Jasper looked puzzled for a moment before getting distracted by something on Tullia’s arm.
“Tullia, you’re bleeding!” He said, his puzzled face replaced by an angry one. “Did he do this to you?” He pointed an accusatory finger at Bryson's face. Bryson’s eyes shimmered mischievously for a moment before he composed himself.
“Are you a naturally suspicious person, or do you just not like me because I have a better body than you?” Tullia looked at the man, wide-eyed. While it was true that he did have a leaner and more athletic body, was he really picking a fight in this situation? She looked at Jasper, apprehensive as to what his reaction might be. To her surprise, he seemed to deflate, his accusatory hand dropping to his side. “Good. Now let's get out of here.” Bryson grabbed Tullia’s arm roughly, pulling her towards the courtyard wall.
“Hey!” Jasper carefully began to pick up Ghita.
“Leave her!” Again Bryson’s face showed no emotion. “I’m sorry, but she hasn’t been breathing since earlier.” Tullia struggled against his harsh grip. “Stop pulling. I’m trying to help you!”
“No, you're lying!” She bit his hand, causing him to wince and let go. She ran blindly through the smoke to her mother's side. “He’s lying right?” Her breath caught in her throat. Jasper sat next to her mother, his eyes wide and hands shaking.
“He’s….. He’s right.” He looked at his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. “I didn’t even notice.” tears streamed down his face. “How did I not notice?” Her legs no longer stable, Tullia sank to the ground. hot tears pooled in her smoke burned eyes.
“My guess is that she was dead before you even got out of the building.” Bryson appeared out of the smoke, letting out a small grunt as he picked Tullia up by her armpits. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. There’s nothing you could have done.” He slung Tullia over his shoulder. “We really need to get out of here bef-” He was cut off by the sound of a loud horn. “Shit” He cursed under his breath.
“The Fire Brigade.” Jasper snapped back to reality. The Fire Brigade was the name of a group of volunteer firefighters from the town. They were mostly made up of men from town, but they had two doctors and a few ex-soldiers among their ranks, If anyone could help Ghita, it was them. “OVER HERE! WE NEED HELP!” Jasper shouted, not moving from Ghita’s side.
“No, you idiot! Shut up!” Bryson hissed. Jasper tuned him out, continuing to shout. “Shit. You idiot, they aren’t the fire brigade. Shut up!” If Jasper had heard anything he said, he didn't show it. The dark-haired man hesitated for a minute before turning and running to the wall, jostling Tullia on his shoulder. They hid behind a large shrubbery at the far end of the courtyard. Jasper was barely visible through the swirling smoke, but Tullia felt a sense of relief as several men in fire brigade uniforms rushed in around him. Next to her, Bryson stiffened. He covered his mouth with his free hand, his other hand firmly clamped onto Tullia’s arm. “Don’t make a sound.” He whispered, barely audible through the crackling of the fire. Tullia was about to question him when the gleam of a blade flashed into her eyes. She quickly turned her attention back to Jasper. She stifled a gasp. To her horror, Jasper was now laying on the ground, blood pooling from a wound on his chest. Letting go of her arm, Bryson covered her mouth, fully convinced she wouldn’t run. She turned to him, wide-eyed, tears making his hand wet. He held a single finger to his mouth, signaling with his eyes. ‘Shh’ Tullia swallowed hard, as he slowly removed his hand from her mouth and grabbed her hand. He tugged on her arm, beckoning her to follow him. Absent-minded, She copied his every move, as they followed the cobblestone wall along the edge of the courtyard. Finally, when Tullia could no longer see the men through the smoke, they stood slowly. Bryson turned towards her, making a step out of his hands and nodding towards the wall. He wanted her to climb it. She stared at the looming obstacle with a shaky feeling in her chest. She didn’t move, stuck to the spot in shock. Not wanting to wait any longer, Bryson, grabbed Tullia by her waist, lifting her to a ledge and pushing on her rear until she reacted. Once at the top of the wall, Tullia looked down, petrified. The ground seemed a million miles away. She held a death-grip, the rough stone biting into her palms. She heard a soft grunt and watched as Bryson hoisted himself onto the wall. The dark-haired man was far more adept at climbing than she was expecting. “I’ll go first and then help you down.” He sat straddling the wall. Tullia was about to nod in agreement when he suddenly lunged forward and grabbed her shoulders. There was a whistling sound as several objects whizzed by her head. Arrows. They were being shot at! She looked around wildly, unsure of what to do. Then she heard a sickening thunk. Bryson grunted in pain as the momentum carried them both over the edge of the wall. Tullia screamed, but all she could hear was the wind rushing past her ears. She barely even felt the impact before her mind went black.