Chapter 05

Hal’s heart dropped into his stomach. He was going to be killed? Questions raced through his mind at the same time he was desperately trying to deny that it was going to happen. Clearly, they mixed something up.

A clerical error. Something like that. There was no way he was going to be put to death for simply being in the wrong place. He’d done nothing wrong.

“So, you’re a priest?” Hal asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

The woman shook her head. “I am not so lucky, no. My powers lie elsewhere, untethered and unclaimed by any deity.” She shrugged one shoulder. “So far.” The ghost of a smile graced her pouty lips.

“And I’m going to be killed.” Saying the words caused him a physical pain deep within his chest.

“Tomorrow,” Ashera agreed. “Which means we have several hours yet. More than enough time, I think.”

“And you’re okay with that? I’m being sentenced to death without a trial for what, being sick and having somebody drag my nearly lifeless body into your city? How is that fair?”

“The world is often unfair. We all have our parts to play in it, however brief.”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit!” Hal spat at her. “If I’m going to be killed tomorrow the least you can do is stop with the platitudes and give me something real.”

She looked hurt by the outburst, her eyes slid to the floor and away. When she looked back something in them had changed. They looked hardened with resolve. “Very well. You wish for something real?”

Ashera tilted her neck back showing a thin band of twisted ivory so much like her pale skin that Hal had missed it at first. When she tilted her head back to look at him, the blush on her cheeks stood out bright and rosy but her eyes were hard bits of sea glass with a flickering fire behind.

Hal lifted his chains gently, rattling them a little. “So you’re just as trapped as me,” he said softly.

Her eyes softened midway back to the sadness that seemed to weigh her down. “So you are not as blind as I thought. Tell me, what do you see?” Ashera thrust out her wrists. Her form-fitted armor ended at her shoulders leaving her arms bare except, now that he was looking for it, there was a faint tracery of lines crisscrossing from her middle and ring fingers all the way to her shoulders.

“Lines, tattoos?” He looked up for some hint but her eyes were unreadable, her face an expressionless mask for once. Hal lifted his hand, cursed when the manacle jerked his wrist when he tried to point. “They go up from your middle fingers and twist all the way up to your shoulders I’m guessing.”

There was a hint of surprise in her eyes. Something in them sparked to life for a second. Something that looked a lot like hope to Hal, though he couldn’t say why.

“So,” Hal said looking at the iron links of his chains, “do you know why I’m going to be killed?”

“I do not, though I can hazard a guess. Would that be… ‘real enough’ for you?” The edges of her lips quirked up.

Hal rolled his eyes at her. “Sure, give me your best guess as to why I deserve to be killed.”

“Oh. That is an entirely different line of thought that requires a different answer. I will answer in order, however, if you do not mind. It is only fitting, I think.”

The chains rattled as Hal made a rolling gesture with his hand for her to continue.

“You are not a Citizen of this Sanctum or any that the Founder could find willing to lay claim to you. As such you are presumed dangerous and to be put to death rather than risk the harm you may cause the Sanctum. In short, you are an unknown and in the eyes of the Founder it is best to eliminate unknowns.”

“I’m assuming a Founder is the person in charge of this Sanctum?”

“You really must not be from around here.” Her gaze was piercing as she raked her eyes over him. “As to why you deserve to be killed? I could not even attempt to guess. I do not believe most people deserve death. Perhaps I am biased.”

“Because you bear the stories of their lives?” Hal guessed.

“Just so. Unfortunately, it is neither my place to pass judgment nor absolve of such crimes. My task is to remember them.” Though she didn’t say it, it was clear she disagreed.

“Why do you do it?” Before she could open her mouth, Hal added, “I mean why are you made to do it. It’s pretty obvious you aren’t given a great deal of choice in the matter. But what I can’t understand is what the point is.”

“The Founder is… superstitious. He does not like the supernatural, particularly ghosts of the vengeful kind.”

“And somehow talking to the soon-to-be-departed stops them from returning as ghosts to haunt that guy’s ass?”

“What a… horribly comical and crass thing to say.” Her lips thinned to suppress a smile. “In a manner of speaking, yes. A Keeper can soothe a soul, allowing them to pass on without the baggage of their life. It is a kindness to them and a potential aid to the Founder.”

Hal snorted. “Except you’re forced to do it. Doesn’t sound that kind when the person doing the job has just as much choice in the matter as the prisoner.”

Ashera paused a moment and then took several steps closer. She sat down so close that Hal could have reached out and touched her even with the ridiculously short chain. “You are odd.”

“Thanks.”

“Of all the people I have borne witness to, you are the first who did not wish to open up. You are the first to ask about me and my plight even though your own life is hours away from being over.” Ashera tilted her head to the side, the silver ornament that encircled the base of her horn glinted in the dim light. “Why?”

“I’m not that interesting, to be honest,” Hal answered truthfully. “Got nothing to unburden. I’m boring. Average. Typical.”

“And yet, you are the first in a long list of people who have never seen or thought to see the chains that bind me just as surely as those around your wrists. That is not ‘typical’ to me.” Ashera reached a hand out and gently rested her warm fingertips upon Hal’s cold and clammy hand.

“Aren’t you afraid I’m going to attack you and make a break for it?” Hal asked with a bark of a laugh at the ridiculous notion. With a STR of 1, he wasn’t breaking out of a wet paper bag. 

Her hand sandwiched Hal’s between her warm palms. It was the first time that Hal realized how cold he was. He still had all his clothes, they hadn’t bothered to strip or take anything off him. Not that he had anything to be taken. Though he was surprised to still see the bandage in place covering up the mark. 

Considering what Elora had said, he bleakly wondered what more they would have done to him if they had seen it. It wasn’t like they could kill him any deader than he’d soon be.

“I do not believe you will harm me.” Ashera followed Hal’s gaze to the bandage. “I have some minor healing abilities, may I?”

“Why bother, I’m going to be dead soon anyway.” Though if he was being honest, it would be nice not to die quite so miserable. His head was killing him and the worry over tetanus was long-gone, thin trails of blood leaked out from beneath the heavy iron manacles.

“Because it will ease your pain and for a kind soul that reminded me I exist outside of my duties, it would be my honor.” Her hands glowed a soft gold and she touched them with supreme tenderness to Hal’s wrists one after the other.

Ashera casts Minor Cure.

You recover 4 points of HP.

You recover 0 points of SP.

“Here, you should no longer need this.” Ashera hooked one finger beneath his bandage and ripped through the cotton revealing the mark before Hal could so much as open his eyes. 

The feeling of warm relief that washed over him was more than simple healing, he felt refreshed. It was like he had slept a full night. He felt better than he had in years if he was being entirely honest. 

When he finally did open them, Ashera’s eyes were locked onto the mark as if Hal has a coiled viper there ready to strike. Her mouth worked soundlessly and it took Hal a moment to realize what she was looking at.

“I get the feeling this a bad thing.” Hal nodded at his wrist. The golden ink glowed brighter than usual in the dim room. He looked up at Ashera, her eyes still locked onto the mark. “You gonna kill me now or something?”

Her answer was barely above a whisper. “No.” She blinked rapidly, the trance broken by the word. It caught her by surprise and for a moment she seemed uncertain where it came from. For all the concern and warring emotions that played over her delicate features, she did not move away.

“Since I’m going to die anyway, could you tell me why everybody around here acts like-” He motioned at her, realizing he didn’t actually have an analogy at hand. Nobody had ever, in all his twenty-four years of life, looked at him like that. “Of the people who have seen it, only two haven’t tried to kill me and I’m still not sure about Elora.”

Ashera’s hands shook as she extended them toward Hal. “May I?” she asked, never taking her eyes off the mark.

Hal shrugged. The woman took his arm gently in her hands, turning it this way and that to catch every intricate inch of the gold tattoo. 

“You said Elora.” Her eyes flicked up to meet his with that piercing stare that bored into his soul. “How do you know her?”

“I met her in the woods after I was chased by some people, I think she called them the Broken - which, by the way, nobody has told me what that means either - she saw that mark too and acted a lot like you except more violent.”

“That sounds like Elora all right.” Her lips quirked into a smile and she ducked her head back down to gaze at Hal’s mark, giving him a close-up view of her horns. They vaguely reminded him of cow horns but far smaller and somehow pretty.

“You know Elora?” A spark of hope caught in his chest. He didn’t know from where but suddenly things seemed to shift as he latched on to that idea. For the first time since he woke up, Hal began to entertain the notion that maybe he could get out.

Really should have gone with Elora. I’m such a coward.

“Of course, she is my friend. Why would I not?” Ashera’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at him. “What is she mixed up in now?”

Hal opted to give her the short version of everything that happened, hoping that once she had the whole story maybe she’d find a way to help him. It was a long shot but considering his dwindling hours left alive, he might as well swing for the fences.

Ashera was a great listener. Probably came with all the practice of being a Keeper.

She stayed quiet the whole time, her sad eyes fastened to his. It was a little unnerving. “That is quite the strange tale. It is a wonder you survived the Broken at all, not to mention Elora. She is peculiar with her trust.” Her eyes hardened. “And that you broke that trust so readily says a lot about how much you fear heights. I am sorry that your hope for a rational rule was dashed so thoroughly. That is not the way of the world.”

“But it should be,” Hal countered.

“Now you sound like Elora.”

“Maybe she was onto something then. Nobody should be thrust into chains simply for being unknown or different.” He jerked his chin towards her. “Nobody should be forced into burdening their souls for the sake of a cowardly ruler. People deserve to be treated with dignity and respect!”

Her pale hands flew up and she padded the air between them. “Shh! Keep your voice down. While I am trusted, there is a guard that escorts me. If he thinks something is amiss he will not hesitate to move up your appointment with death.”

Heaving a soul-wearying sigh, Hal slumped his shoulders and nodded. The brief flash of anger drained out of him, leaving him feeling hollow. “So, what does the mark mean?”

“I do not know.”

The flash of anger was back. If nobody knew what the fuck the mark was, why were so many people trying to kill him then? He said as much to Ashera, doing his best to stifle the anger before it lifted his voice to a shout.

“Because,” she said as if talking to a child, “the only people who have such marks are the Founders. They are the only ones capable of instilling life to a Manaseed.” Ashera raised a hand to forestall the question that hung on his lips. “A Manaseed grows into a Manatree. The beating magical heart of any Sanctum. If you are truly gifted with the same powers, then you have the ability to create a Sanctum as well.”

That didn’t make any sense. Not only did he definitively not have magical powers but he was pretty sure that sounded like a good thing. “Shouldn’t people want more Sanctums? That hardly seems worthy of being sentenced to death.”

“The Founders…” Ashera shook her head and started again. “They have a weighty burden upon their shoulders but for all the good they have done, they are selfish and cruel. Treating the people within their protection as little more than playthings to do with as they like, knowing that they cannot very well leave and survive beyond the safety of the Sanctum. I assure you, if the Sanctum Watch had seen your mark you would have been killed on the spot. Or worse.”

“What would be worse?” Hal found himself saying before he could shut his big mouth.

“I have heard tales of other Founders appearing, little more than rumor, but it seems to resurface every few years. A stumbling madman bearing the mark of the Founder is discovered and tortured for his or her dark ways. If they were a Founder, they would have a Sanctum already is the belief. Most of them are incomprehensible it’s said and lash out at anybody trying to help.”

“Okay, that sounds less than ideal,” Hal agreed. The truth was, without understanding people it would be easy to fall into that very trap. He hadn’t realized until that moment just how much Elora had done for him. “So what are you going to do?”

Ashera’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Hal motioned to the mark. “You know what I am. Do I look mad? Am I trying to hurt you or anybody? The only person I hurt was Elora by not trusting her to keep me safe. Had I stayed with her I’d probably be somewhere safe and out of the city by now.” 

The faint reek of one of the buckets smelled like spoiled vegetables. His stomach complained noisily. He could not remember the last time he ate.

That poisonous mushroom did not count.

Thinking about the mushroom made him miss the water Elora had in that leather thing she kept on her hip. He really needed to know the names of things.

“The merciful thing to do would be to wrap the bandage back upon you and allow you a swift and clean death.” It sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “Elora would… argue with that.”

Hal clung to that like a lifeline. Shoved the gnawing hunger in his middle away. “What would Elora argue?”

“She would say it was our duty to shepherd a new Founder away from the corrupted and hide him or her somewhere safe until their powers could manifest. But it would be beyond risky and there is not much I can do for you while we are both imprisoned.”

The beginnings of a plan began to fall into place. Ashera may not be able to do anything for him but Hal was certain there was something he could do for her.