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Omen of Catastrophe
Bitter Sanctuary

Bitter Sanctuary

Syndra would prod him every day searching for that new legend or myth. Their travels lead them along the north border of the mountain range, shifting through woods, rock, and prairie. And the closer they came to settlement, the wider and more trafficked the roads became.

Until they finally came upon a long sought-after sight. Cresting a hill, the first thing they noticed was a plume of smoke rising in the distance. With renewed fervor they pushed. While the sun was red, the group pushed through the aching and worn muscle, energized the promise of respite.

Down the mountainside they saw a small forest clearing, from which the darkened clouds rose. Only what seemed to be a few miles away. A place of respite from the cold winds, perhaps a soft underside, and with some luck they could even warm themselves by the hearth. Respite, something they had not truly had for a month of travel. In the dead of night, they yet marched. No sounds safe for the grunts and exhausted breathing of the group. Finally, they had arrived at a proper road with people. The cold clutched at their heels when they entered the edge of the forest green. Dragging their feet behind them, managed to arrive at the structure. This was a crossroads, and clearly a focal point for much travel, so while they had not seen other people for many days, this was a place where many of those destitute paths would meet, coalescing into a larger road leading further eastward.

They pushed aside the door, and almost collapsed into the warm interior. A smell of wet wood filled their nostruls. Placing Evard’s stretcher by the hearth of the smoldering fireplace. Syndra laid herself beside her brother, and barely perceived the room around her. Her world became black. Groggily she half-slept through someone taking her off her backpack and carrying her into a back room. Placing her on something soft and putting a cover over her body.

When she awoke her body was exhausted. She would have remained in the bed, were it not for the gnawing hunger. She pushed the blanket away, still dressed she rolled out of bed. Walking out into the main room, she heard discussion between her parents and a gruff voice she only vaguely recalled. She placed herself by newly lit fireplace and listened to the argument. Pushing it out she searched for Ratakhan. He must have slept elsewhere, for his pack was not present, she looked outside into the rainy weather, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“-with you. I can’t be held responsible for your questionable decisions!”

“True as that may be, there must be something that can be done. We cannot travel in our state, and our food is gone as well.”

“I can’t afford to have you here eating my food and not paying. With the reduced traffic and winter around the corner, I need all the produce I have.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

This discussion was perplexing, last she’d checked they should still have enough food for a few days as well as coin to pay for food. By the walked to where their three backpacks stood leaned against the western wall, rummaging through her father’s pack, she found neither coin nor food, she checked her mother’s, and again found nothing but waterskin and bedroll. A hand locked around Syndra’s wrist in a vice-like grip. She turned head, looking over her shoulder. There she saw her mother looming over her with a terrible scowl.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t do it!”

“Don’t play dumb with me girl! Where’s the food? Where’s the coin?”

“I don’t know!”

With a sudden sting, Syndra was struck. Ringing in her ears and a burn on her cheek. She tried to pull away but was tussled by her mother.

“This is all your fault, every moment of it! If only you controlled yourself! If only you hadn't invited that beast to join us!”

With a push, Syndra was tossed to the ground, impacting hard on the stone. Syndra’s mother placed herself on the ground, clutched her hair, seemingly forgetting her daughter’s presence. Syndra felt her eyes watering. She searched for the only one who would console her, the only one to show sympathy. But he wasn’t present. She ran outside in the rain and yelled for him but received no answer except from the patter of drops on leaves. A fresh smell filled her lounges, and the cold pushed her back inside, deflated and confused. Ratakhan had left them behind.

Her father was sitting by his wife, with an arm around her, consoling the weeping mess she had become. Syndra was dazed, yet through the haze, she discerned a figure. The rotund barkeep who had received them the day prior.

“He’s gone with the wind, girl. You best forget him when first you have the chance. Scum like he does not deserve a place in my house.” He spat with vitriol, like he had more to share about what exactly was meant by scum.

Yet she could not care. She staggered, stunned and separated into the backroom where they had slept. Collapsing on the bed. She looked to the opposing row of mattresses, where Evard had propped himself against the wall. His eyes then reminded her of that fateful evening. The feeling of a task left undone. A rage bubbled within her soul. The sting on her cheek, the hurt in her chest. Overwhelmed and apathetic, the young girl sank into her bed, curling up into herself. Her eyes remained dry. A lifeless stare directed at her brother. Fatigue gripped her.

The thought of Ratakhan’s betrayal should have filled her with hatred, but she felt nothing. The weight of something lost, a goodbye missed, and wondrous tales melted washed away by rain. She silently cursed this establishment. Gladly would she have given a warm bed and proper meal in place another month of magical storytelling.

As she lay much time passed, the pitter patter of the rain echoed through the abode. Eyes locked upon her brother, who gradually relaxed further and further in her presence. Like an animal in the presence of something frightening yet unfathomable, he was stupefied. What began as fear, became unease. Boredom had him adapt, and bit by bit he relaxed, even under the glare of his younger sister. A sister who had shown she was not quite human.

There they lay, eyes affixed for minutes, perhaps hours, until their parents moved into the room, and picked up Evard. It was time to leave. She readied herself for another day on their tireless march.