Idina’s hands moved easily, flowing as they chopped the vegetables and mushrooms. A part of her was keenly aware of their freshness, her role as a gatherer also helped her identify the bad spots. She’d toss those into the stew for tonight, no sense in wasting anything.

Mentally she went over the ingredients for the meal, trying to calculate how much would be necessary for four people. She doubled the amount out of habit, and had been almost ready to look for more veggies when she chided herself.

Damon would not come tonight either.

The thought brought a halt to her hands, slowness as she stared at the lush green on the chopping board. Her gaze was locked in place, but her hymn was elsewhere. Three images lay atop each other in stark contrast, Idina was trapped, unable to tear herself from them.

Damon, drenched in rain, looming terrifyingly silent, larger than her doorstep, needing to bend down to step through, his clothes covered in mud.

Damon, sitting on a chair in a tavern, eyes hazy and unfocused, a mug of spirits dangling loosely from his fingers, stinking of alcohol and sweat.

Damon, laying too still on the ground on a pool of blood of green and crimson that mixed in splatters, the stench of iron all around him.

Idina’s lips curled, her hymn trembled. Her cheek felt moist, but she quickly dried it with the back of her sleeve. She coughed once and felt the sting of the knife against her finger. The little knick had barely drawn a drop of blood, Idina had moved to just dry it against some cloth to keep working on the meal when she remembered that even minor cuts shouldn’t be ignored.

A bit of water, a bit of soap. The cut stung a bit more, she washed it all the same. Damon had mentioned tiny things that could enter the body through the cuts. Unseen, invisible to the eye, weak to soap. Idina forgot the name, but remembered how he’d always pour a little bit of water onto his hands before eating a meal, always scrub a little harder after a long day.

A fourth image intruded, swift, fleeting, almost like a flickering thought. Of a cart and the stars above, of the silent hymn-less giant looming over her like a shadow. Of the feeling of a deep, unbreakable sense of safety.

Shaking her head, the sasin returned to her task.

Though…

Her ears kept twitching, her mind wandering off, turning her focus towards the door, towards the outside. Miss Sybil was outside, she could hear the user’s hymn, barely a whisper of reassurance that the house was being watched. But Idina was waiting for someone else.

Han’s hymn came in a soft exhausted whisper that had the edges of irritation and none of the patience. Idina greeted him and get back to her work, ears sharpening. Was there sadness in the hymn? Was the anger one of deep hatred? Why would it twist so? The young woman boiled with questions she wanted to ask but restrained her hymn into only mild curiosity.

The blonde sasin just shrugged in response. Nothing serious, but all the more infuriating. The message was simple even if Idina wasn’t sure what it meant. Had something happened to Damon then it would have been serious. Then it must be something else…?

It would be best to wait. So she returned her focus to the food, having a little problem using the fancy fire-starter and getting things ready. Soon enough Han came down refreshed and calmer, the man still looked like someone had dragged him through half the city, and the hymn was no different.

Miss Sybil came in once Idina had called out for dinner.

“How has the day gone?” Idina couldn’t help but ask the moment she’d served the food. She tried to hide the waver in her hymn but it was impossible to miss Sybil’s own sharpening like a teether’s fangs in very careful attention of the conversation.

And though the red-headed vulpes tried to hide it, there was an edge of concern in her hymn too.

“Things have been… messy. Lots of messes to clean up.” Han spoke, pushing a friendly smile that was not reflected in his hymn.

“Maybe you should get someone with a spine to help you out.” Sybil spoke with a snap.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Idina’s lips tightened. Her hymn hardened, and it was met by a caustic challenge from Sybil’s own. Rather than press on, Idina bowed her head and continued to serve the food. She wasn’t a user, these matters were not ones she was meant to participate in. The only reason why she was allowed to stay in their home was because Damon had accepted to bring her along.

Damon who wasn’t here.

“I would rather not involve a… representative of the smithing Goddess.” Han spoke carefully.

“I serve Janus above all others!” Sybil’s words came with a hissing of her hymn, but there was a waver in those words, a hesitation in her eyes and a tremble of her hymn.

Idina grimaced at the feeling of hesitation, because she knew its source; she’d been there when the Goddess Irsi had explained to them why they could not stop Damon. An administrator was not a servant of the Gods. The Gods had been servants of the administrators; it was a rule that had remained a part of their very core to this very day.

Sybil’s room was still trashed, the user had explicitly prohibited Idina from touching or cleaning it.

“Tell me what Damon is up to.”

“Sybil…”

Her gaze narrowed. “One of the smith priests stumbled on to a trap within the struts and it nearly killed him. The knights found out there had been dozens more that had been disabled.” Sybil’s voice grew icy. “You wouldn’t happen to know who would dare put a worker of the priesthood in such peril, would you?”

Han raised his hands. “You will not like the answer.”

“Try me.”

Sybil’s fingers pressed against the surface of the table, knuckles turning white, her hymn vibrating with an unspoken anger.

“It’s related to the people that attacked Idina. We are looking for who sent them.”

“The knights can do that, hand them over.”

Now it was Han’s turn to scowl. “The knights answer to more than just the Goddesses, if this comes from somewhere important like one of the guilds, then…”

“This was likely well deserved revenge.”

Idina flinched, pulling her hymn back and lowering her head. Her gaze flickered to the door, but she restrained herself. She closed her eyes, trying to draw strength. What else was there for her to do?

“The attackers were too well prepared, the-.”

“I was there during the trial of her father. She was deemed a participant in the murder of at least a dozen users! The only reason she wasn’t banished as well was that-.”

“Stop.” Idina blinked, finding her hands had fallen to the table with a bang, the chair clattering behind her, her hymn lashing out. “He saved my life. Twice.” She had to fight back the tremble in her voice, there was a fire inside her chest, it burned so hot.

Sybil’s hymn exploded, her face contorting into an even deeper scowl. “He is a coward.”

“NO!” Idina roared, glaring. “You-.”

“You want to hit me, don’t you?”

The words brought the image to Idina’s mind, and it struck her harder than any attack would. Icy water through her veins. The anger was gone in a flash and she paled, taking half a step back, horrified. “No, I-.”

“If you think so highly of him, do it.” Sybil’s anger pushed, and she stepped towards Idina, the hymn a loud shriek of cold anger. “I’m sure Damon would love to see that happen, he wasn’t exactly hiding how much he hated the edicts, those of peace in particular.”

“Sybil-.”

“No, let her prove her words.” The woman waved at her companion, sneering as she leaned closer to Idina. Her eyes bore into the gatherer like a teether’s fangs, leaning down on her. “You could have warned the users, run away from the village, you could have done a thousand things to stop your father. But you were a coward. You were a coward even when Damon saved your life, you stuck to him for safety. Guess what? He’s not here, he abandoned you. Because he is a coward too, it’s easier for him to-.”

SLAP

Idina stood stock still, eyes wide, all color drained from her face, body trembling as the chill gripped at her bones so hard they might just shatter like glass, her heart hammering against her ears with a thundering step.

She…

She’d hit Sybil.

Her hand stung, like someone had lit it aflame. The user’s cheek had the red mark upon its skin.

All present stood still. All hymns frozen in complete shock.

Han was the first to move, he was behind Sybil in a flash. “RUN!”

Idina did not need to be told twice, she scrambled for the door as the fight broke out behind her. Hymns clashed and furniture was overturned, Sybil screamed even as Han tried to pin her down to little avail. Idina could feel the user’s hymn rushing towards her as she slammed the heavy door shut behind her.

The thud was hard, Sybil hammered at it.

“FREAK!” A singular scream that was followed by a second louder thud. “LET ME GO!”

Idina’s heart was too loud for her to hear much, she just kept pressing against the door, fighting to keep it locked with everything she had. Every part of her screamed that she had to curl into a ball and stay there forever, her chest hurt and every part of her was trembling, numbness slowly taking away the sting upon the palm of her hand.

And every time the scene replayed within her mind, the icy grip in her heart got tighter.

She hurt someone. She hurt a user.

It shouldn’t have happened, it shouldn’t be possible. She wasn’t a user, she… the edict was still clawing at her like a ravenous monster trying to tear her to shreds with its claws. It shouldn’t be possible, how!? The question burned within her, and she all but screamed it out if she had the breath for it.

A soft knock at the door snapped her out of her desperate gasping and white-knuckled grip on the knob.

“She’s gone.”

Han’s voice was tired, his hymn was drained and exhausted. Sybil’s was nowhere to be heard, and so Idina dared open the pantry door.

“We need to go.”

“Is she…?”

“She went to cool her heels.” Han reached down, pulling her up to her feet. “It’s best if we leave, I think we’ve pushed things too far.”

The only thing she could do was nod. “Go where?”

Han grimaced. “To the last place Damon would want you to be.”