Nala sailed through utter darkness, numbed of all senses but one—alone. Pair of golden orbs pierced through the oblivion. They radiated proudly, and Nala saw them—which was impossible. She had been blind ever since her birth, at least that’s what Auntie Carolin told her. She reckoned it was a lie. Nala and her peers studied her defect; kids can find interest in many things, and Nala got some attention as a bonus. Blind humans have a hard time fitting into a collective, and this is doubly true for children.

Nala was able to do more things than an ordinary blind person. Apparently, since she never knew anything else, she got used to it much better. She could move fast, jump, and even wrestle—all with grace. She needed to fit in, but she didn’t—at least not completely.

The golden orbs were gradually getting dimmer, secreting liquid radiance in all directions. Nala tried to move closer, unable to cross the infinite oblivion. Panic invaded her mind. The orbs winked out, and darkness took her.

———

Nala woke up with a gasp, covered in a cold sweat. No sight. Her heart throbbing. She dropped back down into her bunk. In a short time, she calmed down, and her heart returned to a peaceful rhythm. The same dream again—WHY?

Nala occupied her quarters with several other female servants. Only the head servant lived in private chambers. A rustling sound came from her right. “Nel, are you up?” Ilia’s voice brought Nala out of her stupor. “Yeah, just woke up, what time is it?” Nala asked and got out of bed.

“The sun is not even up,” Ilia paused, “we should go to the river for a bath, we’ll come back in time, don’t worry.”

Nala agreed reluctantly; she hated ice-cold morning baths. But she had alternative motives. After changing out of her soaked clothes, she tidied up her bunk and quietly left the quarters with Ilia—to not wake up the rest of the girls.

They strolled through the town. Treblehill was still in slumber, as were most of its citizens. Few people were trudging on the cobbled streets in near darkness. Rare pillars of fiery light flickered throughout the town. The crisp morning air smelled of cut wood and horse shit. The majority of buildings cluttering the city were made of wood—with a few exceptions. Ceromancers didn’t serve the peasants, only the rich could rent their services.

When they approached the edge of the town, a figure emerged from the corner ahead of them. The tall figure sported hefty golden robes, covering most of the body. Wearing a pointy hood filled with a metallic-looking mask shading its face. It was a Warden.

The girls kept their heads low as the figure tramped around them. Afterward, they rushed to one of the city exits. Guards were playing Pluva cards on seemingly empty wooden crates near the gate. One of the guards caught their scent and rallied his comrades, abandoning his post. “Hello ladies, morning bath again, eh?” The grubby guard’s smile was filled with mischief.

“Well, yes Corin, and no, you cannot join us; better chances at the brothel,” Ilia answered sweetly without stopping, dragging Nala behind her.

They walked across the field, with the forest flaking them on the left. The girls came upon the river. It was clutched by soily shores scattered with rocks of all sizes. A few feet of icy liquid rushed down the stream.

The river streamed east, beneath Treblehill and then turned southward. Forest stretched across the eastern side of the town and the river shore. Making the town somewhat protected from all sides. Hills to the north and west, a river to the south, and forest to the west. Treblehill was part of Lindel, located near the borders of the Vitra Empire.

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After the chilly bath, the sun had already risen above the horizon.

Nala savored the morning radiance on her skin, while Ilia handily braided their hair. She learned the more difficult braiding patterns through the Seamstress Order in her free time, a rare commodity for servants in Sumi household. She did it for Nala and her inexplicable love for braids. Perhaps it was a blind person thing.

With moments of respite approaching their end, Nala pushed her hands through the morning grass, attempting to appreciate every individual stem and bud slipping beneath her fingers. Nala lifted her hand toward Ilia, tracing her fingers across the smooth chin, squishy warm cheeks, stopped, and squeezed. A yelp resounded in her ears. “Nel! You know I hate that.” Ilia exclaimed, lightly cuffing her friend on the forehead as revenge. “Your braiding is all done. And you should show some of this courage around others.”

Nala smirked but otherwise stayed silent, she knew Ilia was right. Jumping off the ground, Nala dusted off her clothes. She was wearing plain, rough clothing, same as Ilia, and any other servant in Treblehill.

“Thanks, Ili” she exclaimed. Turning around, she extended her hand and waited. After a few moments, Ilia took her hand, and they started trudging back to the town.

Nala fiddled with the new braids, a clear sigh indicating she was nervous. Ilia noticed but said nothing. If Nala wants something, she can ask.

After a while, Nala finally found the courage. “Ili, could we go to the edge of the forest? We should relax a little more before going back to Treble.” She pleaded.

A sign could be heard near her right arm. “You know we shouldn’t, especially a day before yielding. If they catch us, we’ll be in a lot of trouble. And what about the Wardens? They might just slaughter us, no questions asked.” Ilia shivered.

“Please Il, you know I can’t go alone, and it’s so cool, all the lively noises and vibrations of the forest, and I swear I won’t ask anything else for a week; I’ll even throw in a foot massage.” She turned to her friend and wiggled her eyebrows—or at least she tried. “Fine, fine, and don’t do that; I already told you it’s creepy.” They changed course and aimed for the forest.

Nala knew immediately the moment they entered the forest, the silence grew distant, and noises colonized her ears from all directions. The wind zigzagged amidst the tree crowns, animals scattered away from human invasion, insects buzzed around undisturbed, blade slid out of a scabbard…. Wait what?

Suddenly bells were heard from the city. Ilia froze for a moment, and then said. “Alarms! There must be an attack on the city, the forest isn’t safe, we’re heading back to the river for hiding.” She commanded, jerking Nala around and taking her other hand. And just as they moved to escape the forest, a sweet womanly voice echoed beneath our legs. “Where is the fun in that?”

Her speech was different—like every word was put on a chopping block and cut a little too early. It was not an ascent that either of them recognized. Not Lindelin or Imperian.

They scrambled back, felling each other. The intruder giggled at the lousy display suddenly standing before them. She was a bulky woman, well.. mostly a woman, with sage-tinged skin, pointy ears, and little tusks protruding from her lower jaw. She wore leather armor with bone white daggers. “Is this how Lindel raises their cubs? Pathetic.” Forest bed cracked under her advancing footsteps. Metallic scent invaded Nala’s nostrils. Blood.

Nala noticed a sizzling sound, accompanied by an unknown scent, like a mixture of honey and grease. “Everything’s going to be alright,” Ilia assured her, caressing Nala’s quivering hands. She bounced off the ground, taking steps to protect her from the woman.

“What do you want?” Ilia demanded.

“Hmm, at least one of you has some spine… but from you? Nothing; we already got what we came for, as you can see by my outfit.”

Ilia kept silent, horrified by the realization that all the town guards and Wardens in the forest might have been slaughtered. “Then you’ll let us leave?” Ilia asked hopefully.

“I might.” The woman answered. Smile spreading on her face but not quite reaching her eyes. She kept up the eye contact, bone knives twirling in her hands.

Without a second thought, Ilia turned around and walked towards Nala; when she heard a smacking sound behind her, she shifted her head back to the woman. “You can scram, but leave the cripple behind; she will only drag you down.” The woman’s voice grew cold, filled with disgust.

Nala stiffened with every fiber of her being as Ilia shot insults at the woman.

A diving sound resounded as Ilia yelled and jumped back, closer to her friend.

“What happened?” Nala asked.

“By the Changer. She just vanished into the ground, she must be a Ceromancer.” Again, a diving sound resounded in front of them. Nala heard a wet sputter as Ilia screamed in pain.

“I gave you a choice, you ungrateful Gloppa; now you can die with the cripple.” She pulled the knife out of Ilia’s stomach and dropped her. Then she squatted right in front of Nala.

Nala noted that Ilia still drew irregular breaths. She is still alive—thank the Changer. Interrupted by a wet hand grabbing her chin. “Look at you, Ceca. A baggage to all. I’ll release you from your suffering.” The woman was right: Nala couldn’t even move; she couldn’t help her friend; she could only wait for death.

She tried to squirm away, but the woman’s grip proved to be too powerful. The sizzling became more substantial; wetness rolled on her skin, almost like a vapor but cold. Suddenly, a sharp object dug into her neck, drawing blood.

The woman drew closer, and Nala felt breath brushing down her cheeks. “Be at peace, blind girl.” The blade dug deeper, hungry for her life. That’s when a deep, masculine voice echoed from further away. “What is the meaning of this, Selina?”