I awoke in chains. Blinking to clear my hazy vision, I squinted at the light pouring into the chamber I was in. It was a majestic sight, stark white walls rising up to a massive dome, stained glass windows glimmering with images of even-handed Isperia. Incense made wispy trails to the high ceiling, scattering the rays of sunlight.

I was stunned by the sight, my every thought revolving around the spectacle I was witnessing. It was so overwhelming I almost passed over the two figures positioned across from me. I recognized them, not so much for themselves but for their stations.

Sitting on a gilded throne was the Grand Arbiter, her face obscured by the featureless mask she wore. What little skin I could see outside the massive folds of her cloak was thin, pulled so tight around her hands that I could partially see her knuckles.

Next to her stood the high priest, his deep blue headdress waving about as he quietly read through a scroll. I had seen the high priest a few years ago at the Eclipse ceremony. But a very different man stood before me today. No longer did he exude an aura of serenity, of peace and comfort. All that remained was his authority, his dominance.

The high priest noticed my waking and called out in an authoritative voice. “Manfred of Torze. The Grand Arbiter has reviewed your crimes. You will be judged now.”

I went to respond but found myself unable to speak. Each attempt drew violent coughing fits, pain shooting from my dry throat. It felt like I hadn’t drunk in days, reminding me of the few failed caravans I had joined my father on. My brain wasn’t helping either, with my thoughts constantly being interrupted, the shock at being within a judgment chamber hitting me in waves.

“For enciting violence within the city, the judgement is…” he paused and waited for the Grand Arbiter to speak. It was a lengthy process, and I hung onto every detail. The small movements she made or noises between her haggard breaths. Anything that might tell me she would recognize my innocence. That she would let me go.

That hope was dashed with a single word. “Guilty.” she said in a soft voice. It was so gentle, that condemnation.

Before I could react, a beam of searing light descended through the open roof and struck me on the forehead. For the briefest second, I was in immense pain, as if I had jumped headfirst into a roaring inferno. Then, I felt nothing, blissful nothing, as I passed out.

~

Three months. It had been three months since my branding, and I was no closer to being redeemed. For nothing more than a drunken brawl.

It wasn’t due to my inaction. I had been trying to wipe my soul clean, to redeem myself from my sins. I made sure to finish ever task Watcher Eustatius assigned to me. But they were menial things any nightbound with functioning limbs could complete.

Maybe that was the issue? I couldn’t see how the monotonous work the Watchers had us branded doing could redeem anyone. But Brunhilde had said to persevere and all would be well in the end, a sentiment that was harder and harder to believe with each passing day.

I thought back to Albrecht’s offer. I heard his group had helped dozens reach redemption in the past few years alone. What harm could there be in paying them a visit?

I was snapped out of my thoughts by the door to my room swinging open, candlelight flooding into the windowless space. “It’s noon,” I said with feigned exhaustion, “I need to finish sleeping before sunset.”

“I have a task for you.” was the reply. Turning my head granted me a view of Watcher Eustatius standing in the doorframe, his features obscured by the contrasting lights. But I didn’t need my eyes to see the scowl on his face, I had heard it clearly in his words.

Picking myself up off my straw bed, I quickly fell in line behind Eustatius. No point in giving him an excuse to flare my brand. But as we made our way through the cramped corridors of the Brandhouse in silence, my curiosity, and fear, started to grow. We were heading towards the front entrance.

Eustatius wouldn’t send me out during the day, would he?

~

Okay, I thought, this isn’t so bad. Picking up an order of robes was an important enough job, far from the drudgery of gravedigging or collecting nightsoil for the temple gardens. The downside was I was standing next to practically direct sunlight, but I’m sure the danger would make this worth even more towards my redemption.

I had gotten a few blocks from the Brandhouse without incident, the combination of the thick black cloak I had borrowed from Brunhilde and shade from the surrounding buildings kept my discomfort to a minimum. But it was slow going sticking to the edge of the street. I couldn’t muscle my way through the crowds like I usually would, so I was forced to wait for the brief openings I could sprint through.

It took hours to reach the market, a distance I could have run in under one, but I was still on time. Before I could get lost in the tantalizing aromas of the food sellers, I skulked over to the tailor Eustatius had told me about. The man was busy fixing a gaudy shirt dyed in a cacophony of reds, blues, and purples, but as I approached he glanced up. “You one of Estatius’s bound?” he muttered through the pins held in his mouth.

I nodded, still distracted by the sensations of the market. I hadn’t seen more than a dozen people gathered together in three months, and the press of customers that flocked to every stall was overwhelming. Perfumes of every flower and fruit bombarded my nose while cheery shouts of deals cut through the background chatter.

Before I could reorient myself, the tailor had shoved a wrapped bundle into my arms. It was almost half as big as me but light enough that I didn’t need a wagon. Bowing in thanks I started making my way out of the market, away from the quickly nauseating sensations therein.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

As I snuck around performers and goods-laden beasts, I found myself pressed against a wall with no other buildings in sight. The sun had reached a point where my previous route was untenable, the shadows shifting enough so that the entire street was bathed in light. It was while I considered alternate routes that a commotion started nearby.

Looking around, I saw a guard making his way over to an irate merchant pointing furiously into the crowd. It was hard to grasp what they were saying due to how virulent they were, but I caught the last part of the merchant’s rant. “...and I want you to find this thief!”

I was suddenly acutely aware of how I looked. Cloaked figures were common enough, but I had borrowed this one specifically because it fully obscured me. That combined with my posture and the massive bag I was holding painted the picture of a stereotypical criminal.

Despite my attempts to meld into the brick wall, the guard noticed me and called out in a forceful tone. “You! Come over here!”

I shook my head, Hildebrand’s large cloak rustling back and forth with the movement. I responded in the least confrontative voice I could muster. “I can’t.”

That was the wrong choice of words. The guard shouted again with a scowl on his face. “I said come here!” He sounded annoyed, like he was flabbergasted I wasn’t jumping at his every word.

Pulling the hood further down over my slightly glowing brand, I lowered my head and stood still as stone. Maybe he would give up and let me pass, perhaps out of pity, or more likely, laziness.

Alas, it seemed the guard was having a boring day. He advanced towards me, the butt of his spear knocking against the pavement. “Come here you little shit!” he said through clenched teeth as he broke into a sprint, grabbing onto my arm and pulling me toward him.

“Let’s have a good look at you,” he said with a cruel grin. Before I could speak he reached up and tugged my hood down, revealing the now-flashing eye of Isperia on my forehead.

He recoiled from the sight, the surprise on his face almost as intense as the flash of pain I felt from my now-exposed skin. I tried to move away, to return to the cool shade, but my movements only tightened his vice grip on my arm. “A nightbound!” he shouted. After a brief moment of surprise, a smile spread across his grimy face. “A nightbound in the market? Here’s your thief!”

At his proclamation, the guard twisted me around to face the crowd. The movement threw my cloak off, exposing more of my skin to the morning sun. I instinctively raised my arms in defense as my grip on the bundle of clothes was lost with the guard’s first tug.

My skin sizzled without sound as the sun cooked my face, my arms unable to blot out the light. It was agonizing, a burning sensation worse than any flame. But no matter how pain I endured, no matter how much I wished for it to end, my body refused to pass out. Brunhilde had told me that was by design, that Isperia made the brands as punishment, and no punishment would let the guilty escape that easily.

No one came foreward to help me as my brand flashed, as my screams silenced the musicians playing at every corner. I had to do something, anything to make it stop.

“Eustatius!” I managed to yell between laboured screams. “I serve Watcher Eustatius!”

The guard paused at my remarks. Then, before he could respond, there was commotion above me. Movement, both of the guard and the crowd. I turned over in my thrashing and glimpsed a young girl, a silver necklace in her grasp, being dragged to the merchant by another guard.

He dropped me immediately and strode over to the girl, lifting her up by her arm. I fought the urge to ball up on the ground and crawled back to the shade of the wall. Once the pain had diminished enough for me to think, I pulled my cloak down and surveyed the scene. It was still hectic, with people pushing to get a better view.

Then something dawned on me. The robes were nowhere in sight. A closer look revealed the bundle laying on the ground, split open and missing its contents. The crowd must have taken the opportunity to acquire some new clothes.

I shook my head and started on the long march back to the Boundhouse. Let Eustatius send some other idiot to fight over a few robes. All I wanted was the soothing bliss of pitch darkness.

~

“I send you on a simple pickup job, something a child could do, and look what happens!” Eustatius screamed at me as I lay in bed, paralyzed by the lingering pain across my skin. “I’ve had to apologize to half the merchants in Torze because of your outburst. What possessed you to shout my name in the middle of the market like that?”

Anything I said would have just made it worse. Any explanation dismissed as excuses, all appeals to mercy would fall on deaf ears. So I just… didn’t. I sat in my bed, back pressed against the wall.

I knew what was coming when Eustatius said nothing. He was not the type to let disrespectful behaviour go unpunished. The only warning I was given was the rustling of sleeves as he raised his left hand, a symbol blazing into existence in his palm.

Searing pain immediately flooded my forehead. It was different from the experience I had earlier today. The sun was intense, focused on what bare skin it could find. But a Watcher’s flare was uniform. It hurt as much in my head as it did in my forearm, in my leg, and everywhere else as well. My entire body was one massive block of cheese, and Eustatius was running a grater across all of it.

After a few eternal seconds of screaming, Eustatius dropped his arm. It took another minute for the pain to subside enough that I could make out his voice, low and steady. “You did not just fail today but lost an entire month’s supply of clothes for this house in the process. Their cost is being added to your sentence.”

Seemingly satisfied at my whimpering, Eustatius exited the room without another word. I lay there alone for what seemed like days, pulling the dirty cloak around me like a blanket. But sooner than I liked the door creaked open and Albrecht stepped in. He had changed since our last meeting, his long brown hair being cut short, but I could never mistake those sharp eyes.

He did nothing for a few minutes, just standing above my bed staring. Eventually he broke the silence and said, “I heard what happened. Eustatius is making you pay, huh?”

He took another step forward, his hands clasped behind his back. “You know this isn’t going to end, right? Eustatius doesn’t like to loss any of his sinners. Work under him for a thousand years, and he’ll say you need a thousand and one.”

I grunted in reply. It was all I could say when every breath torn my lungs apart. But it was enough for Albrecht.

“But there is more than one road to redemption. I have some… friends. Important friends. You do a few jobs for them, and you might find a substantial donation to the temple put forward in your name.”

As I lay in the darkness, my skin feeling like it had been shaved with a rusty saber, Albrecht’s words started making sense. Eustatius knew the danger he was putting me into and still sent a nightbound out at noon. To pickup some robes! Whatever his reason for become a Watcher was, it sure wasn’t to help Branded redeem themselves.

“I’ll do it,” I managed to croak out, “whatever it is.”

I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear Albrecht’s smile when he said, “Welcome to the team, Manfred. Were going to get along juuust fine.”