Freedom.

  It was a hazy blur to where she had ended up after jail, and a strange feeling that she had been let go so easily.

  Captain Schiro, Rue couldn’t remember her entire full title, had gone to meet with a Judge of Whesirki. An important person who made important rulings when the law was broken, or when someone wanted to change the law. Schiro had authority to make simple rulings when it came to petty theft, which is where Rue had started, after she had stolen a pastry from the market.

  Petty theft turned to a confession of murder.

  Captain Schiro told her that without any standing, Rue could have easily been put to banishment at best, or execution at the worst. But her ability to discern truth from lies was apparently of the highest regard, even better than evidence. That was a very good thing considering Rue had a resounding lack of evidence. Schiro also, apparently, did not get involved in every single matter with a lack of evidence. Rue had just gotten very lucky that it was her.

  Alternatively, she was actually quite unlucky, since it was Schiro’s ability that got her called out in the first place.

  Either way, in the end, the Judge and Schiro agreed that Rue should not be punished at the highest regard. Schiro discerned that Rue acted in genuine fear, and even had her recount the details more vividly. Rue did so to the best of her memory, finding so much of it fuzzy, but Schiro didn’t challenge the uncertain recounting, surprisingly.

  They did have her place her hand in a book, activating some runic magic that apparently recorded her handprint, should she commit further crime - it’d be recorded and accessible to any Judge. If any other trouble followed Rue, the judge could easily access the details to this case.

  It felt…Too easy. Way too easy. A day later, and she was free again, after confessing murder.

  Maybe my luck is turning around.

  “Don’t cause anymore trouble,” Schiro warned her as she finished delivering the good news.

  It was said in a stern tone, but how many times had she heard her own family say the same thing in other ways?

  “You’d better stop that now, Rue!” Called her mother, without bothering to look up from her sewing, or whatever work lay in front of her.

  “I’ll have your hide, girl. Get out of my damned sight!” Came the violent roar of her father, leaving his middle daughter scrambling for safety from a raised hand, branch, whatever else he had.

  And with her sisters,words were rarely the sole means of antagonism. It was hair pulling, fists and palms flying, kicking while one was down. The youngest always followed the lead of the eldest - Tira, the youngest, Beatrice, the eldest. If Rue irritated Beatrice in some way, she’d wail on Rue and Tira would join. If Trice wasn’t there, then Tira would be less violent, even kind, but it wasn’t enough to liken Rue’s opinion of her.

  So, with Schiro’s stern warning, Rue had expected something else: Further attempts to shame her actions, heightened threats of banishment impending or something dramatic as the stocks.

  The mild conclusion was actually more rattling than any of this would have been, leaving her irritated when she knew she should be glad.

  It was a new day. Rue was kept overnight in that cell, given two more meals, each warm and filling. The cell remained warm and oddly green-lit, but she slept fairly well. A few hours into the morning, and she was released, glad to be above the ground again and…In the brittle, cold, open air. The streets flowing with ever active people dressed in bright winter clothing, merchants pulling carts, criers announcing news that made little sense to her, and the harmonic ring of prayer bells vibrating the very air.

  Rue did not know where to go, so she just walked.

  Her feet carried her with the current of the crowds, much like a river flowing down a bank well familiar with the course of ever-flowing water. She hardly paid mind to surroundings as she went. The noise and crowd and crushing sensation of being trapped was prickling at her skin like hot needles. Even if the underground cell was left behind, the open air gradually felt less free.

  So when she stepped around a bend and found herself in an expansive courtyard, it was jarring enough that Rue came to a stop to finally look ahead of herself.

  It was a large courtyard adorned with an impressive fountain, the water splitting up in an arc and coming down again without any conceivable way to keep flowing, and no direct water source apart from the river, which she didn’t think was close enough to keep it running. The fountain quickly lost interest when she looked beyond it. A grand set of stairs led up to an even grander temple. It towered over the square and dwarfed the buildings, including the ones that stood over three stories tall. The regular buildings being so tall had already shocked Rue, with how common it seemed here, but the church was simply mindblowing. It did not look like any barn-style temple she had seen before.

  She wondered, if she had looked up at any point, if she’d have seen the temple blocks away. It’d be hard not to.

  Milky white marble pillars with smatterings of peachy earth and golden flakes held a massive cantilevered overhang that shadowed the platform the stairs finished at, where massive double-wooden doors were mounted. They hung open, tucked into the building at a severe angle. Rue found herself moving forward, across the plaza and past the fountain to climb up. No one was going in or out, and the small lobby she entered was empty as well.

  Rue’s attention drew to a large honey-golden bowl that sat in the center of the room on a raised platform. It was one of the only things of note in the lobby, which had several sets of other doors on each side and two sets on the opposite wall of the entrance. Upon inspection, she lost her breath at the contents, freezing in place. It was filled with coins. And jewels. Jewelry. Statuettes. Other valuable trinkets.

  Just looking in the bowl, which was tall enough to reach her waist, made Rue feel as if she had done something wrong. She looked around quickly, expecting to find eyes on her, but the lobby remained empty. If she strained to listen, she could hear the deep vibrations of a voice through the next set of doors.

  No one was watching. There were far too many riches for anyone to possibly notice some missing coins.

  So not even hours beyond being released from a cell for theft, Rue reached into the bowl and scooped out a palmful of coins of various color and design. She wanted to inspect them but didn’t allow herself to, fearing being caught in the moment. On the off-chance someone may have soundlessly wandered in, she made a point of dropping two more coins back into the bowl, which landed with a satisfying metal plink. The rest of the handful stayed in place and disappeared right into a pocket, which she shuffled into a pants pocket, shifting them around so that they hopefully wouldn’t make any noise. Without any further hesitation, Rue went further, stepping into a short hall with adjoining doors on the sides, and another large open door ahead.

  She could hear a woman speaking ahead. Moving up to the open door, Rue lingered in the threshold and took it in.

  A massive room had opened up. It seemed large, larger than the space it was contained in, and was filled with rows upon rows of onlookers. They sat in contained areas that seemed boxed off from one another, groups of people sitting with each other, though Rue wasn’t quite able to tell if specific people were within certain groups. The boxes were made of a deep reddish wood that was polished and carved with design. Some of the boxes were right on the ground, while others were lifted up to look down upon the others and upon the woman who stood at the very end of the room.

  She wore golden robes that complimented her light brown skin. It was a dusted kind of golden, yet no less regal than anything brighter. It was hard to see much else of her person in the distance, even if there was a split right through the room that opened to where she stood. Her voice, on the other hand, was not hard to hear.

  This woman, a priestess, was delivering what Rue assumed to be a prayer, or something of that sort. She had seen many temples and churches, much smaller than this one, but her family had never attended. They did not worship at all, and instead cursed the gods of the land, blaming them for misfortunes. Rarely, they did offer them thanks when fortune did come along. Rue was not very familiar with any of them, and only recognized the name of this god as the one Captain Schiro had spoken of.

  “...Aukinok blesses her children with power and wealth. Her chosen worthy will reign while the lesser designs shall serve. The lesser shall offer their devotion to the divine creations: The King, his children, his stewards and his lords and nobles. The lesser shall offer their devotion to the designs of the divine: Their art, their buildings, their road, the walls, everything within them. Without any of these, the lesser would not be graced with survival. Unto the divine do they owe food, rest, careers, their very own seeds of life.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Her hand swept out over the crowd. There was a lingering pause, and Rue felt as if the priestess were looking at her now, though she was far away enough that it was impossible to see where her eyes lay. Still, it was a prickling upon the back of her neck. It was the same kind that came with the sudden intuition of danger.

  The prickling subsided then, and the pressure of whatever that moment was faded away.

  “Do not forget to hold yourselves above and demand the obedience of those below. Demand obedience. You shall only give submission firstly to the Lady Aukinok, she who wept the first tear to form the first human, she who shed the second tear to bless the chosen with her magic. You shall secondly give obedience to the King and reign of Whersirki, he whose bloodline ended all war in Anerdrasid by defying heretical power and finding glory in the Golden Queen, and then those of his royal account.”

  Rue listened with some intrigue. She did not know much of the capital city, but the sermon did stir forward a few facts she had heard, the things that led her to this place.

  Whesirki proudly ran off of a heavy flow of magic. The buildings, streets, walls, arts, and inner workings were largely constructed and fortified using magic. She had heard that most of the magic users were deemed royalty, and that these families were old names of the kingdom that had joined the very first king. They used their abilities to upkeep the city and help those without magic in their blood.

  If magic flowed so heavily and everyone benefited of it, then this was where to be. Rue wanted those benefits.

  All of this talk of lesser people though, that made her pause. She assumed the ‘divine creations’ may be the bloodlines of magic wielders. It was not words of charity that this woman gave, but words of dominance. Dominance was alluring.

  She tuned in to the words spoken now.

  “And do not fall to the false givings of witches. A witch may claim blessings, and may offer false promises, but they were not the blood chosen of Aukinok. Should a witch step out of line, strike them down, in the name of our Lady.”

  It was well known that witch was one of the terms sometimes used to describe someone who spontaneously found magic flowing in their blood at birth.

  A witch could then pass on their magic to their children, where at least half of any children would be likely to inherit the power, and had a chance of mutating into something different. The means of which all of this happened was not well understood, though it was regarded as far less impressive than someone with a long and ancient line of magic.

  Rue did not know anyone with an ancient bloodline. She did know many that were acquired, these witches, though. There were plenty throughout the villages in the countryside and forests, some with even an impressive generational line from what she understood. While not being recognized as anything as grand as royalty, they were given better chances at dedicated careers and business operated by their family through generations, and sometimes even invited to work in Whesirki or other smaller, impressive towns, if their abilities were worthy enough.

  The priestess continued on. She began to name some of the families specifically, and what their ancestors had accomplished, having some of the seated sections rise as she acknowledged them. It was by then that Rue lost her focus. She was very, very out of place. A few stray heads had turned and noticed her, and none looked very impressed. Everyone was dressed finely, and the church itself smelled something like perfume.

  It was time to bounce. Rue slipped from the threshold and went back down the hall. She was tempted to check out some of the shut doors, but the discomforted feeling of overstaying her welcome was enough to send her by the closed doors.

  There were two sets of doors on each side of the hall. As she approached the final set, about to pass them, one opened and swung right into her path. Rue froze as a figure stepped out, who also stopped as soon as she saw the woman before her.

  The person looked exceedingly like the priestess within the main room, giving the sermon. Her robes were a brighter gold, though perhaps it just looked so because she was now so close. The woman was about the same height as Rue, just barely taller, with pale skin that made it seem as if she had never seen the sun. Her brown hair was braided in several parts that all came back, twisting into one another. Her feet were hidden by the gall of the robes, which ghosted just upon the surface of the floor. Most striking were her eyes, an unnatural sort of golden that Rue had never seen before.

  The prickling on the back of her neck came right back. It felt like the woman was staring straight within her. Her features were unreadable, even as her head tilted to the side, like a dog that had heard an odd noise.

  “Who are you?” The woman asked.

  She sounded normal. That caught Rue off guard more than anything else. With her appearance, Rue had expected something that matched her regal presentation. It was ethereal, almost. But her voice was young, human, and even kind.

  “I, uhm…” Rue cleared her throat, finding the words difficult at first with how exposed she felt. She forced herself to continue, doubling her resolve. “I was just checkin’ out the place. Real fancy,” she commented, with a casual swagger that she didn’t quite feel. “Never seen a church so big before.”

  The woman stared at her, and her tilted head finally corrected itself back up. “Then you are visiting the King’s City,” she stated. Her golden eyes swept Rue up and down. “Welcome to the Ceisawan Temple, First Temple of Whesirki, Temple of the King’s Favor, Aukinok’s Blessed Touch. I am one of the many priestesses of Aukinok.”

  Rue blinked. “What?”

  “Have you not heard of our lady before? She–”

  “No,” Rue cut her off, “I mean, all of those things you just said. What was all of that? You went too quick.”

  The priestess paused, then recounted her words. “This is the Ceisawan Temple, First Temple of Whersirki, Temple of the King’s Favor, Aukinok’s Blessed Touch. Understand?”

  “No,” Rue wrinkled her nose. “It’s one temple, why has it got so many names?”

  “It is an important temple.”

  “Why?”

  “It…Is the First Temple of Whesirki. The favored temple of the King. It is blessed directly by Aukinok. It is her most important temple in all of the kingdom, and all of the world.”

  Rue reached up a hand to scratch at her cheek. “...I guess it’s all in the name. Weren’t there another part?”

  “Yes. Ceisawan’s Temple. Ceisawan is the name of the priestess that converted First King Iwhirin to the grace of Aukinok, thusly leading him to end the Great War and enter this five-hundred years of peace.”

  “Isn’t the current king Iwhirin?” Rue asked skeptically.

  Now the priestess just stared at her, and the moment lasted uncomfortably long. “Yes,” she said slowly. “They are all King Iwhirin. It is the royal surname, descendants of the First. Our current king is King Iwhirin the Devout.”

  Rue stared back right up at her. The nervousness had waned away as she realized that she wasn’t being booted out upon discovery, apparently not trespassing, even if it felt like she was. “And the others…Weren’t devout?” She said, with an even heavier doubt in her tone.

  The priestess flared her nostrils in a heavy motion, though the rest of her features remained tame. “Yes. They are all devout. King Iwhirin has displayed his–”

  “Which King Iwhirin?”

  “This King Iwhirin,” the priestess nearly snapped. She blinked and took a moment to rein herself in. “...King Iwhirin the Devout proved his outstanding devotion, compared to many of his previous ancestors, by being the first to provide resources to build new temples in Whesirki and in over twenty villages throughout the kingdom.” By the end of the spiel, the priestess had a delighted edge to her tone despite the mounting irritation. “Her light will reach everyone, with such devotion.”

  Rue frowned slightly. Her head tilted back, eyes shifting up to the ceiling. The wood up there was elegantly patterned into diamond shapes, with small paintings within each. She hadn’t noticed it before.

  “How come I’ve never heard of her if she’s so important?”

  The priestess offered another sweeping look-over of Rue. “She is the patron of all humans, which you are. But her favorite are those who are magic-blessed. The bitter-minded tend to worship lesser gods and reject Aukinok for her lack of favor. It is a shame. Even if you possess none of her blood or her blessings of magic, she does love you.”

  Rue dropped her gaze back down to the priestess and stared at her now smiling features, the impassive mask broken. It was uncomfortable to gaze upon, but Rue was still intrigued. She hadn’t ever spoken to someone so religious. No, that wasn’t right either. She had, but they had all been relatively normal people - humans and other beings alike - and never so lavishly adorned.

  “How do you know I haven’t got any magic?” Rue challenged.

  Fascinatingly, the golden hue of her eyes shifted and her iris seemed to swirl. It reminded Rue of the flow of a river or ripple upon a lake's surface during the golden hour of sunrise. She was mesmerized.

  “We are blessed to see magic,” she simply explained. “I see not a drop in you.”

  Rue knew that she had no magic. None of her parents did, nor did her sisters. No one in the camp she lived with had any sort of magic. None that willingly or usefully made itself known. Hearing it, though, with such finality felt like the edge of a dull knife had been struck against her core. She didn’t know why it was upsetting, but it was.

  She pushed it down and moved past it.

  “Great. This has been real interesting and all, but I’ve got to be somewhere. I’ll catch the next prayer,” Rue said, moving to walk around the priestess.

  “Sermon. Prayer is a private act,” the priestess corrected. “And you will do well to find one of the Churches of the Lesser. You are not disallowed to be here, but each seat is reserved.”

  This made Rue stop only three steps past the golden-robed woman. She half-turned and craned her head to look.

  “Every seat? Why?”

  The priestess took a deep breath. “Because. This temple is reserved for the worthy of the king. This is Ceisawan’s Temple, First Te–”

  Rue barked a laugh and started forward again, leaving the woman trailing off on her spiel of endurance. Her interest in the subject had hit a limit. The priestess deflated behind Rue, watching until she rounded into the entry chamber.

  And once in the entryway, Rue dared reach down and pluck another coin. She didn’t bother to try to hide the theft this time, never fully stopping in place, out the door and down the steps quicker than she came.