Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The Fates
MAGNOLIA
Hunger ripped me apart, slowly consuming me from the inside out. The moldy loaf of bread I hid in my pocket was a heavy weight, slowly burning me to ash every second I kept ignoring it.
Not here. I had to wait.
I quickly made my way up the river, trying to keep my eyes downcast, but I still saw it. Down by the second bridge, a newly exiled Vivenian had picked the berries by the bank.
The burn across her forearm was still raised with the singed ‘D’ charred into her flesh. It was the only thing that separated the exiles from Moriann-born.
The blisters and raw bubbles were screaming at me to intervene. It meant the burn was new, and she didn’t know any better. She wasn’t used to starvation, wasn’t used to the cold, wasn’t used to the dark, and she definitely wasn’t used to the unspoken rules of the bridges.
No one eats the berries.
Normally, I’d warn a newly exile that they were poisonous, that she’d likely fall into the river and die from delirium if she gave into her starvation.
But not today. I couldn’t stop.
She’s not your problem, Magnolia.
I kept walking north, trying to keep my pace slow enough to not draw attention. People didn’t walk with excitement in Moriann—it was all slow and starved and barely alive.
I prayed that there was someone half decent in the lingering crowd that would tell her. That they weren’t all there just to watch her die, but I knew better. I’d seen too many deaths before I got the courage to tell Vivenians about the berries.
Morianns didn’t care who died. It was one less mouth to compete with for stealing scraps of food.
I kept walking, trying to convince myself that she wouldn’t actually eat it, that she was only looking at the berries…
“Masin,” I called as I spotted familiar dark hair and blue eyes. I smiled as I closed the gap between us. My guilt slowly ebbing as soon as I saw him. He was by the first bridge, opting to pick pocket there while I usually went to the third.
“Nollie,” he looked me up and down, his eyes searching every inch of my body. He always did it every time we separated, not that we were ever apart long, but it was like he had to confirm for himself that I was fine.
Not that I blamed him. I did the same thing to him, especially around the bridges.
“Let’s go home,” I deadpanned, trying my best to keep my voice neutral. It was our code that we were successful. No one ate by the bridges, and if we ever managed to steal anything, we always brought it to the Adrian Shores before even daring to talk about it.
We technically didn’t have a home, both of us had only ever known life on the streets, but the Shores were the closest thing we’d ever get.
Masin smiled, dimples consuming his cheeks in a way that was mesmerizing, forcing me to stop in my tracks. I so rarely saw him smile anymore. I was pretty sure I smiled even less.
He was about to take a step toward me, when he faltered, losing his footing and almost tripping into the river.
I sprinted toward him, cursing as I went, before grabbing onto his shoulder to steady him.
“Are you alright?” I asked, panic filling me. It had been almost a week since we last ate.
He nodded, but the movement was too slow, too stiff, and I knew his real answer. His eyes were rolling back in his head. He wouldn’t make it to the Shores—
Wrapping my arm under his shoulder, I reached my other hand into my pocket, slowly ripping off a piece of moldy bread.
I looked around me twice, making sure no one was watching, before shoving the small piece into his mouth. Just enough to get him moving.
I sagged as he started chewing. His eyes slowly fluttered open again, and I was staring in the glacial blues. The green speck on his left iris, splattered like dotted ink, catching my attention as his gaze shifted over my face. He smiled, was about to say something, before he started choking.
Shit—
His back hunched over, my arm bending as it shot forward. Terror seized me as Masin started pounding against his chest, trying to clear his throat, but it was too late.
He didn’t even straighten his back before someone knocked me to the ground, my head dangerously close to the foamy current of the river.
I tried turning to see where Masin landed when cold metal dug into my neck, slicing my skin just enough to pool warmth to the area, red staining my only shirt.
“Hand over the food—”
I woke up screaming on my back, staring at the stone ceiling of my room while I waited for my breathing to slow. Even though I ate last night, it was never enough. The hunger in my reality mimicked and warped my dreams, making the vivid nightmare feel so real.
I hated it. It didn’t matter that seven years had passed, I wouldn’t stop reliving that night—the night I made my deal.
I was so good at making myself numb, so good at shutting off my emotions during the day, that they all seemed to slip out while I slept.
It was the only time I couldn’t block out my thoughts, couldn’t stop my brain from replaying that night, and it always felt like an eternity before I could move again.
Breathe. One. Two. Three. Four. Exhale.
Slowly, I peeled myself out of my bed, my sheer nightgown sticking to the sweat coating my back. At least I woke up today before the worst of that memory sprang forward…
I carefully made my bed, walking around each side and tucking all the corners.
Once everything was pristine and all the wrinkles smoothed out, I walked under the open archway toward the clawed tub. I knelt, slowly filling it with the freezing water that was left in buckets by the floor. Stepping in, I let the numbness cool my skin as I worked to shut my brain off again.
The exiles didn’t start until high noon, which meant I had a few hours to make myself emotionless.
I pocketed the three tranquil vials and tied the rope around my chest after I put on my hides.
As soon as I exited the bath, they were waiting for me on the bed.
I allowed myself one cycle of breaths before I stepped outside. I was used to hunting at night, when most of Moriann was asleep, but it didn’t make that much of a difference. The thick Moriann fog blocked out the access to the suns.
The six moons were the only light we ever saw, and that was only during the seven-day phenomenon of the Watala.
Once a year the fog thinned during slumber to glimpse the glow.
Night time was brighter than day here and it only lasted a week.
The rest of the time, we were covered in varying gray shadows that shifted from dark to darker.
Moriann in general was the colder kingdom. Viven was built above the Senith Cliffs, closer to the two suns, while Moriann was stuck in a sunken valley. The Cliffs, Black Sands, and Valdern Forest separated the two, and they couldn’t be more different, or so I was told.
I’d never been to Viven, even if my kind—Wielders—originated from there.
I didn’t have the exile burn across my arm, which meant I was Moriann-born.
My parents, or some ancestor down the line, committed a crime that got them banished here.
But I’d heard enough about the kingdom on the streets to know what I was missing.
I walked down the stone steps that sprawled into the cold streets of Moriann, relaxing with each step that took me further from Dahes. Not that the streets were anything to look at. All Moriann consisted of was criminals, the dying, and Vivenian outcasts.
And then there was the actual dead. Dahes’ castle was the entrance to Hell and there was no forgetting it. His castle was built directly over the Examinis River, separating the two sides of Moriann—Salvira and Oiremoor—in half.
Rumor was that if you fell into its depths, you’d die. And despite the fact that it resembled nothing of death, I wasn’t about to test the theory to find out if it was true. I’d seen too many exiles fall into the water and never come out to not believe the stories.
Moriann had three bridges that allowed access between the two sides and all were known areas of robbery.
It was the brightest section in the kingdom, making it easier to see what you wanted to steal.
The entire river was bioluminescent, regardless of the time of day, it glowed.
The current was fast, creating a constant roar of rushing water whenever you walked centrally.
Foam lingered over the surface, making it too murky to see underneath.
The ripples were blended shades of gleaming blues and purples, creating an enchanting but deadly luminosity.
It was probably the only beautiful thing in Moriann, but the crimes by the river completely negated it.
The river curved through Salvira, forcing me to change directions as I crept through the streets.
I left through the gates on the eastern side, so I wouldn’t have to cross over one of the bridges.
It held the entrance to the Senith Cliffs that led to the Sands.
Oiremoor, the western side, bordered the Adrian Ocean.
It was the better of the two halves. Salvira was smaller and more known for its ruthlessness.
More homeless. More crimes. More debauchery.
Oiremoor had homes, most rundown, but the few who made a living in the kingdom had gates to keep out most of the thieves.
It was the kingdom’s only legal place to purchase goods.
There was no official market—no concrete buildings, just rolling carts that moved to new locations every day to limit the chance of robbery. Not that it worked.
Salvira was for stealing. They had their own underground network through a series of caves that bordered the southern cliffs. They bartered in things outside of currency, and out of desperation, many did.
I never entered the Dark Market caves. If you did, you took the chance of not making it back out, and I never wanted to take the risk.
Maybe I should have. Maybe I would have been better off than I was now.
The constant fog rolled over the low rise buildings, reminding me of a cage. It never dissipated, just dispersed and spread, but today it was so thick I could barely see a foot in front of me.
I took the long route, taking my time roaming through Salvira, praying I would see him—see Masin—but I never did. I walked up the entire Examinis before I was forced to veer east, making my way to the Senith.
I stared up at the looming cliff face, but could only see a few feet above my head. The wind ripped at my back, threatening to knock me over.
It was why once you were exiled to Moriann, you never left.
No one dared to climb the cliffs. The wind had a better chance of killing you before you even made it to the Sands and the height alone would send you plummeting to your death.
It was the tallest natural formation on our continent, its height completely vertical, creating a straight drop.
I used the fog to blend in as I waited for the drop off. Mercifully, the strong winds kept a lot of people away from the area, and I was alone. It didn’t take long before I heard the roar of the dragon.
No one in Moriann ever saw them, the fog was too thick. They only ever dipped into our kingdom to drop the criminals off, but even then they didn’t swoop low enough to care if the Vivenian exiles got injured.
I wondered if it was the drakin rider or the actual dragon that made the call, but regardless, most of them were severely injured from the drop.
I had my hand clutching the first tranquil when I heard the screams followed by thuds. All three girls landed on the ground at once.
A bone cracked and I had no idea which one it was from before I moved. I didn’t bother looking up, knowing the dragon was already flying skyward.
I was on them in an instant, injecting the vials into their skin before they had a moment to shift off one another.
Their screams died the moment the tranquil hit their veins. Recapping the needles, I shoved them into my hides, before untying the rope.
I was about to lift the first triplet onto my back when I paused, taken aback by how beautiful she was. Her long blonde hair was draped over a slender shoulder, her lips slightly parted like I caught her mid scream, while the tranquil had her chest rising and falling slowly. She looked angelic.
Eternal. Peaceful. Serene.
And I was about to shatter it.
Well, their lives were already in the shitter the moment they got exiled—the charred flesh across their forearms was proof of that, the exile burn—but I knew bringing them to Dahes meant it was most likely over.
They wouldn’t stand a chance here.
All because Dahes wanted their Token.
It was another reason I was thankful Dahes gave me the tranquils for the hunts. I didn’t want to see their expressions as realization dawned. I was too much of a coward to look them in their eyes as I ruined their lives.
Breathe. One. Two. Three. Four. Exhale.
I tied the first triplet to my back without another thought.