Chapter 1 #2
The designation band on my arm is covered, and that in itself is enough to get me arrested.
None of my fellow vendors will rat me out to the guards if they notice, but my close call just now has me on edge.
There are four entrances to the market, and although the better pitches are further in, I choose a space by one of these exits.
I’m feeling flighty today and I want to be able to run if I need to.
The gems in my cart hum quietly, as though agreeing with my thought process.
This is a sound that apparently only I can hear, their song telling me exactly what type of gem they are.
I set up my stall and I can feel the eyes of the other vendors around me.
They disapprove of my presence, both because I am dressed as a widow, and because of what I sell.
I hear the whispers that follow me, calling me a witch, that my gems are cursed.
If someone was to accuse me of using magic, I would be locked in the stocks and killed for my transgressions before I could pray to the mother goddess for protection.
There are many rules in Rune, laid out by the gods and our royalty, all of which carry their own punishments if broken.
However, there are two key sacraments that we all live by.
Firstly, our gods see into our hearts and choose a designation for us, which is marked with a band at adolescence.
It is illegal to try and remove, disguise, or hide your band.
Secondly, magic is seen as an affront to the gods and a stain across the land, as such, it is outlawed. The punishment for being found guilty of using magic is death.
Of course, most of those who have been put to death for this over the years are either innocent or fools, as magic disappeared from this land long ago.
That doesn’t stop some from attempting to bring it back, but most of us live in fear of being accused.
The kingdom has more of a kill first, ask questions later, approach.
Like the rest of the citizens of Rune, I can’t use magic, and most people know the rumours are exactly that.
However, suspicions and fear are hard things to ignore, and I take a huge risk by selling my gems. Even if I was to hide my band, I stand out too much.
This is one of the reasons I dress as a widow when I bring my wares to the market, it means I become anonymous, the faceless woman who blends silently into the crowd.
People are right to be wary though. I might not have magic, but the gems I sell are special.
They are imbued with their own natural power that is usually linked to an attribute.
Most of the gems I sell are for good luck, health, or fortune.
At least, this is what I tell my potential buyers.
While the stones hum their own tune and are beautiful to look at, they do not give their owners magical powers.
Amethyst might offer protection, but it will not make someone immune to pain or stop all bad things from happening to them.
Yes, I twist the truth a tiny bit to encourage people to buy them, but I am always careful not to cross the line and suggest that I use magic.
A shadow falls over me, blocking out the sun. “You were only here last week. I thought you were going to lay low.”
I startle at the disapproving voice, knocking several gems from my cart, but release a long breath when I realise who it is that’s snuck up on me. Spinning around my eyes lock onto the figure cloaked in white.
“Caleb,” I hiss out, crouching down to pick up what I dropped. Gems in hand, I twist and place them back on the cart and grip onto the handles tightly to stop me reaching out and smacking him on the arm for scaring me.
He stands in front of my cart and pretends to look through my wares.
“You can’t keep doing this Kiara.” Voice lowered, he raises a piece of rose quartz, admiring the way the sun lights it up and shows off the colours running through it.
“If you get caught again there is nothing I can do to get you out of it.”
Caleb wears a bright white band that indicates he works for the gods and quickly raising him above us all. We grew up together as children, and for some reason he decided to continue our friendship after he received his rank. Having someone within the faith has been a life saver.
“I needed to make some money. The taxes were raised again,” I respond, trying to keep my voice low, however the singing of the gemstone in his hand is distracting me. “You should take that,” I dip my head, motioning the quartz. “It likes you.”
He lets out a hiss between his teeth and drops the stone onto the cart like it’s burnt him.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about!
I hope you know what you’re doing, Kiara.
The royals are on the warpath and are killing first and asking questions later.
” He shakes his head and steps away, his expression severe.
“If you were killed…” He trails off, his stare intense before turning and disappearing into the crowd.
Heart pounding, I stare after him. What was that all about, and why has it disturbed me so much?
A glint of light catches my eye and I glance down.
On my cart, the quartz has now gone, and in its place is a silver coin.