03-ONE WEEK HENCE

Shaking in the brisk chill of the bracing evening wind, Cellia Rubillis trudged towards her fateful meeting. A foul scent of copper hung in the air, no doubt due to the events that had taken place in the capital square that day.The sounds of ruckus laughter from a nearby hostel didn’t put her at ease. It had grown quite dangerous as of late to be wandering alone at night, especially for a young woman. The capitals guards had turned into truncheon wielding mad men. The promise of violence in capturing those breaking the new government's curfew, combined with the potential of promotion if they captured anyone they suspected of conspiracy to aid any related to the nobility or clergy. Sure it had been bad to run into the guards Prior to the revolution, but then they only begrudgingly enforced the laws of the old regime, but just as often let people off with a reasonable warning. Now however, they had been possessed by a dangerous fever.

From her lip dangles a sweet smelling hand rolled cigarette. It's a pleasant aroma of medicinal weed tickling her nose and calming her frayed nerves. She had crafted the current pack by soaking spearmint, linden, and gotu kola leaves in a blended green tea, before drying the leaves and rolling them in hemp paper. The cool bite of the spearmint had always calmed her.

Cellia had few passions and loves in life. Justice for all, family, service, healing and herbology. In truth herbology was one true passion she still allowed herself, for in truth Cellia had never been sexually inclined. Only once in her youth had she been taken by the whimsy of romance and passion. That romance hadn’t ended well, and though the time she had spent together Leeah had been precious, it had come at a steep cost, and had almost cost her her life. She hadn’t thought of Leeah in years, and may not have if not for the news of her death at the hands of the very same revolution that Cellia had once supported. Her lover was gone and all she had to show for it was painful memories that had frayed with time. She reasoned that it was too much trouble to look again for a love that would only be doomed, so instead she contented herself with the management of her sister’s salon and ran a clinic out of the back between her frequent military campaigns. Though with the former government collapsing she wasn’t sure of the direction of her military career. It was just one more worry on the pile. A pile of shit that only seemed to grow more each day.

Taking a deep drag she could feel the smoke permeate her lungs. The damage was minor and she would have to remember to heal it later. She knew that herbal cigarettes had become an unbreakable habit. She had used them to treat her nerves and anxiety from a relatively young age. It had started when she first started visiting reading rooms and salons after her parents had died. Life had been turned upside down as she became a 14 year old mother figure for her sister Kalistra. She had been for to act many years beyond her age in order to raise her sister alone, as best she could within the Panchasha capital. They had little, but between her nature and water affinity magic, and her sister’s intelligence and skill in performance they had managed to eek out a good living. Her unique skills had earned her jobs cleaning sewage and helping with landscaping and greenhouse work. At 16 she signed a contract for military service in exchange for her training at the healing and magic institute attached to Panchashakan Cathedral. She was up to multiple packs a day since returning from the most recent set of skirmishes' on the border with the beastfolk of the kingdom of Klick. She had seen and healed many a wound. Wounds and smells that now haunted her dreams. The smell of rot, blood, and opened bowels were inescapable. Memories of picking each jagged pick of shrapnel, and suturing the deep furrows caused by tooth and claw assaulted her in the small hour of the night. Sure she was able to make the scars vanish, but not the scenes.

Her use of the cigarettes had worsened a few years ago, when her sister married into an affluent merchant family from Ulteae Republica. Each day had seemed harder since Kali’s support had moved away with her new husband to the neighboring Island nation to the east. They often wrote back and forth, but it wasn’t the same. She still regretted that she hadn't been able to witness her dearest sister’s wedding as she had been on campaign at the time. Gregor, her sister's new husband, had been kind enough to send a memory crystal full of photos. Her sister looked beautiful in the ornate wedding dress. It was a kind gesture, especially given the extreme cost of such a crystal. It was good that Kali wasn’t here, the state of the country would have brought her to tears.

She had liked Gregor. They had studied together at the institute. He had fallen for Kali at one of the performances she had treated him too. It was too bad that their relationship had cooled, but at least Kali would be safe in Ulteae.

Coming to a sudden stop she looked up at the ornate brass numbers of the building. She was here, she hadn’t needed to check, as she had spent years just living a few miles away from this very building.

“What am I doing here?” Trepidation painting her voice as she took in the grime of the three story build.

She thought back to the last few weeks and how the massive deaths dealt to the former upper class members of Panchasha had affected her. At first as a trusted member of the revolution she had thought that every action they had taken would rouse the country necessary. How their actions would bring equality to the masses. Justifying the executions as excising a foul cancer that had taken root. Her dedication to the movement had never been questioned. Between her active military service and her risking to run a medical clinic in a Panchashakan controlled territory. It was well known that she and her sister’s sitting room was a save place for all who entered.

She was loved by her community, and those with more guile knew that. They had used her dedication to the people and her want for a better world. One not controlled by the foul pigs atop the pile, whose only mandate from the heavens was to shepherd the people, and instead they sacrificed the people for their cruel entertainment, and unwise land grabs from neighboring kingdoms. She wanted to bring the evil to justice, however, the mob of the rebellion hadn’t been content with justice, and had taken their grievances out on not just the wicked and corrupt, but on anyone even tangentially involved. Even housekeepers and staff, unrelated to corruption, whose only crimes had been attempting to protect the babes of a noble house had been marched before a false tribunal before being cruelly publicly sacrificed before the eyes of god and the mob.

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She wanted to step forward and perclam everything wrong about the new world in which she had a hand in creating, but that manner of thinking or speech could easily be turned into a death sentence for not just her, but also for all the members of her immediate family. She would not, could not afford to damn herself or Kali, but with each unnecessary death the pain in her chest grew a little more, sometimes the thought of it made it hard for her to breathe.

So, then that was why she had come here, to this building, if even if it would damn her if discovered, she had to do something. Her hand found the crinkled piece of paper in her pocket. She had discovered the damnable letter in the large pocket of the white coat she wore when treating patients. Her first mistake had been breaking the seal, but there had been recent talk of similar letters in the capital, ones with white seals. They were found just before for each successful escape attempt in the pocket of one guard or another. They were a challenge from a mysterious figure, to the guards and leaders of the new government, all but daring them “catch me if you can.”

Upon seeing such a seal, her curiosity had gotten the better of her. The letter had chilled her greatly for its author had known her. They had seen and investigated her thoroughly, and they knew of her misgivings. The letter had caused her to come to a job interview of sorts. She took a deep breath and entered the building.

***

He Stared down on the square waiting for them to arrive. He wasn’t all that surprised that Cellia had been the first, though he had half expected her to dally in indecision for a while. It was funny to see how the military service had changed her.

When they had gone to the institute together she had always seemed to have only two modes, frantic and exhausted. She had been pulled in so many directions, between working for her sister Kalistra and trying to pass the rigorous requirements to become a licensed magic and medical practitioner, she had been spread pretty thin. They hadn’t been very close as it was well known that Cellia preferred either female company, or no company at all. In comparison his time at the institute had been easy, he was no smarter than Cellia, but as the leader of his house, the only surviving heir in fact, he was allow his whims. The major domo managed his lands back in Ulteae while he studied at his leisure. He had money, time, and have the course work due his inability to use any magic at all he had no need to study to pass those particular licensing exams. In fact, since he hadn’t planned on practice medicine in Panchasha at all it was all just more of a distraction. It could be said the only thing they had in common was that they had both been orphaned young.

The only thing that hadn’t changed was her habit of dealing with her nerves.Whenever he sought conversation with her it was all but guaranteed she would be outside smoking. She alway smoked outside for reasons he never quite understood. He had asked her about her smoking once.

“Hey Cellia, where do you get your smokes.”

“I roll them myself.” She stated

“Okay then, let me rephrase. Where do you get such sweet smelling tobacco? I’ve never rolled before, I was put off by the smell it leaves on my hand, I don’t really enjoy cigarettes for the same reason, but I have come to enjoy a pipe or the occasional cigar in the evening, it just was searching for a little bit of a milder blend.” I said abashed.

“I see. Well I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t buy tobacco anywhere.” She said with a small smirk, before taking a drag on the lit cigarette that dangled from her dainty fingers.

“What? Then what's that then?”

“It’s a herbal cigarette of my own making. I season, dry and crush the leaves myself. Never really liked the tobacco myself, and other than bumming a drag, I could just never justify spending me and Kali’s food money in such a way.” She took a deep drag, “But I still need something to help cut the tension and relate. I used to take a cup of herbal tea to calm down. I find the brewing and drinking process very relaxing, but I can’t make a cup in the middle of the day, its inconvenient, takes too long, and is too expensive.”

“Well now you got me going down a bit of a rabbit hole here. So I’ll ask, if you're unwilling to spend money on tea, do you also grow your own leaves?”

“Yes I do. Our parents were herberlists, we used to grow and harvest the plants together.I one of my favorite memories of them.”

“Well I would consider it a kindness if you would sell me some. Since your cigarettes are healthier, why then do you smoke outside away from others regardless of the weather then?”

“I never stated that they are in anyway health, or will provide any benefits.” she teased. “I would be happy to share with a friend however.”

“Nice job dodging my inquiry there.”

“There are a couple of reasons, but the main one is that Kali does like it when I smoke inside, and with all I put her though I just could force her to put up with it.” she severed.

“Fair enough. For the love of Kali then.” I teased.

—

He had grown to greatly respect Cellia. The shackles of motherhood had been forced on her and she never complained, with the small exception of when her sister had become a rebellious teen. She had worked hard, and set time aside to help with affordable and free healing at her clinic, something which the Panchashakan religion frowned upon. She even honored her military service, though he knew it ate away at her. She still sent him some of her cigarette filling for his pipe from time to time. Sure she was a little naive in her beliefs, but she pursued everything with vigor and gusto, spending all her time helping others and leaving little for herself.

Looking down upon her marching into the building, he smiled. He knew she would help, even if it killed her. He knew he had trust issues, especially since learning that someone close to him had doomed an entire family to be sacrificed, and would not provide an explanation, only a daming confession. He didn’t know who to trust or who to be close to anymore, but if there was one person in this would he felt confident he could put his faith in, then it would have been Cellia.