Dark Places

Thais is abandoned and ruined and Rhen has nothing in common with the people there. Nothing at all.


Gray brick. That was what her future was made out of. It loomed above her, hard and cold and impassable. Unalterable. She hated it. She wanted to run from it.

Instead she turned to her companions, and told them to split up and look for an inn. They were going to sleep here, in this gray city. They had no choice. The blasted lands were dangerous. The rogues and red wolves would only get more vicious as night fell.

So she walked North on the gray brick streets, and under gray brick arches, and between towering walls of gray, gray, gray. It swallowed her whole. She didn't want this. She tried to tell herself that she didn't belong here, that her father was a shoemaker, and her mother was a seamstress—

Daddy, I have a serious question to ask you. Am I your real daughter?

It had seemed an absurd question. This was the man who had carried her on his shoulders through her whole childhood. He had made her every pair of shoes she'd ever worn, until— until she'd gone away. Until now. Now her shoes were made of dragon scales and they glimmered faintly in what little sickly light could filter through the thick clouds hanging in the sky.

It felt like it had always been overcast here, and yet Rhen knew it would never really rain, just like Pa had never really answered her question.

Before you were born, I served as a general to the King and Queen of Thais.

A royal general. Not a shoemaker, then. She was not a shoemaker's daughter. So who was she?

The king and queen of Thais had a daughter, the child who would defeat the demon.

The child. That's what Talia had called her, too. And the Empress of the Eastern Isle, and the Oracle. The child— she wasn't a child! She was too old to be bossed around. And yet—

And yet here she was, doing exactly what they had all told her to do. Or almost exactly what they had all told her to do—

Ma had told her she was a princess, she should be happy. Pa had told her to remember Thais, that it was her duty.

She didn't want to be a princess. She didn't want Alicia's ring— her mother's ring. She didn't want her parents country.

Parents. Devin and Alicia were not her parents. Her father was a shoemaker and her mother was a seamstress— a shoemaker and a seamstress, she tried to make it seem true again, but the weight of the sword on her back said otherwise.

In other cities, in Clearwater especially, people stared at her swords, and her shoulder pads and heavy boots and— everything. But in Thais, no one stared. She fit right in. Nearly everyone here wore their armor, riddled with the damage of hundreds of battles, polished so that it shined even under the overcast sky.

And everyone here walked slowly, with their eyes down, carrying weights in their hearts not less demoralizing than the burdens Rhen had carried as a slave. Everyone in Thais would rather be somewhere else.

Rhen wanted to be home, with her parents. Her parents, the shoemaker and the seamstress. Not the strangers who had once ruled this now desolated land.

Thais used to be grand, one woman had told her. It had been the greatest city in all the kingdoms. It used to be surrounded by unexplored forests stretching for miles, and there had been cool, clear mountain streams running everywhere, and the land was dotted with farming villages instead of long, lonely stretches of burnt earth and endless gray.

Everything was so empty now. And— there weren't any inns anywhere! She kicked a wall, a stupid gray brick wall, and it hurt even through her heavy boots so she scowled and kicked it again—

"Halt!" a voice shouted. She turned to see one of the guards running towards her, pulling his sword out. She reflexively reached back for her own sword and he stopped several paces away from her, weapon ready.

"Are you a citizen of Thais?" he barked, his voice echoing harshly from under his heavy helmet.

"I— no, I am a traveler—"

He half-raised his sword and she held her own in front of her defensively. "Are you a demon?" he asked.

"What? No, I am a traveler! I am just looking for an inn!"

"A traveler!" he scoffed. "We have not seen outlanders for nearly seventeen years. Prove to me you are not a demon in disguise!"

"A demon in disguise?" This was ridiculous, she didn't need to be arguing with a paranoid guard, she just wanted to rest, somewhere far away from here—

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I— I—" She was not a shoemakers daughter, not a simple peasant— who was she?— "I—"

"Rhen?" She half-turned to see Dameon hurrying towards her— of course he would find her when she was in the middle of a standoff— "Pirate John found an inn, do you want to— want to— what— what are you doing?"

The guard turned, brandishing his weapon now at Dameon. "Who is this?"

"This is my— we are— he is the Sun Priest!" she babbled— she wanted to say— more, but it all seemed too much, suddenly, and she could hardly say anything to mollify this guard, he still looked at them through narrowed, distrustful eyes.

"Please," Dameon began, calmly, "we are not here to cause trouble. We are only travelers."

"Why would you travel to Thais?" the guard demanded; Rhen wondered the same thing herself, especially now— "This is a desolated city. The gods have abandoned us. We cannot protect our own citizens. What could you want here?" He raised his sword to point the tip at Dameon's throat, and Rhen's hands were white on her own weapon— "Answer me!"

Dameon only stared at him, his dark eyes wide with—

With—

Something sad and soft that wasn't fear at all, and he finally said, quietly, "We came here to help."

Help. Was it really that simple?

The guard scoffed, and pushed his sword closer to Dameon— he had better— he'd better not—

But Dameon just looked at him calmly, and slowly the guard's sword fell to his side. "Move along then," he muttered, and sheathed his weapon. "You won't want to be out in the streets after dark."

With that he left— really, it was that easy? — And Dameon turned to Rhen, and shuffled his feet a bit, and held out his arm for her to take. "John found an inn. Do you want to go?"

"Dameon— weren't you nervous at all?"

"What?"

"The guard—" she sheathed her sword, and took his arm— he was crazy, that was the only explanation.

He smiled down at her. "I knew you would not let him hurt me."

Well— that was true.

"Where's the inn?" she asked.

"In the southern half of the city." He gestured with his free arm, and started walking that way. "It's by a ring shop," he said, and then, with an almost conspiratorial grin, "I think Elini will approve of the location."

The gray brick seemed so much less imposing when she was not alone, and the overcast sky looked more like rain every moment.

"I don't like rings," she blurted, and then blushed. She was thinking of one very specific ring, with a dragon engraved in its gold band. And— also that small silver ring with the blue stone, the one that had gotten her into this whole mess in the first place.

"Oh," he stammered, his smile slipping. "I— I don't think they're so bad."

She looked hard at the ground. The path was gray brick, like everything else. "You can have mine, then."

"I— What?"

Now she was definitely red. "I mean— the sigma ring. I— I don't— want it."

He was quiet. She could feel his eyes on her, waiting, and finally he said, in his low, soothing way, "What do you want?"

There was a pebble on the ground, and she kicked it ahead of her. It was gray, too. "I don't know."

She kicked the pebble again and it rolled behind a barrel. The barrel, at least, was brown. But it was probably empty. "Thais is a lonely place."

He didn't answer at first. She wouldn't have heard him if he had. She was walking beside him, but she was far, far away, in a tiny mountain town, looking for a little girl she had lost a long time ago.

"Rhen?"

He called her out of her dark place so gently she didn't notice herself turning to face him— not until she was looking up into his eyes, sad and sympathetic and— this time, a little afraid.

"I— the people here— have no one to help them." He began slowly, his voice so low she had to strain to hear. "They've had to fight for themselves. They— I guess what I mean is— they have been through a lot. And you— you also— are you lonely, Rhen?"

She swallowed. She wasn't sure how to answer, how to say yes, how to be so terribly exposed. "I— I want to help these people. But I— I don't— know."

His eyes were soft and dark and not gray at all. "No one else will help them."

"No." She remembered her helpless days. Sometimes she thought she was still in them.

"They... are brave, to have lasted so long."

Brave. What a word, for a hopeless people.

"Rhen." He had stopped walking, they were standing in a courtyard. The inn was in front of them— it really did exist— and he was brushing her hair behind her ear, and tilting her chin up so that she had to look into those stupid dark eyes. "You... You have a lot to think about. And... it is okay if you feel lost. But I think... I think you will find your way. I... I..." he seemed to hesitate, and she knew what he was about to say was something he hadn't said for a long time, maybe forever, and he finished quietly, "I trust you."

Those were heavy words— what if she failed? What if she stayed lost, forever and ever—

But instead of afraid, her heart felt lighter, somehow, and she felt her lips relaxing into a small smile, maybe because— because—

After everything, she was not alone.