Chapter 13
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After calling him a liar, Paen looked back at the boy. The boy’s single golden Sun Clan eye was boring a hole in Paen’s skull, the boy’s full lips were pressed into a thin line, and he had a white-knuckled grip on the handle of the sword in his hands.

Paen raised his arms, boxing Marisol in as a vague, unspoken threat. The girl shifted uncomfortably, her breathing getting faster. She had sensed the threat that was supposed to be just for her brother to see. Her brother, who was slowly unsheathing his sword and shifting on the back of Issa’s horse, readying to leap off.

Paen made brief eye contact with his first mate. Issa nodded and then before Racqein could leap off, he reached behind him to pluck the sword right out of Racqein’s hands. He grabbed it by the blade, paying no mind to it slicing into his palm. Racqein let out a small, strangled cry as his sword was wrested from his hands. And then, for a moment, his eye flashed purple.

Paen sat up straighter on his horse, his arms caging Marisol in lowering slightly as he narrowed his eyes at him, “what was that? Why did your eye change?”

Racqein looked back at Paen again, away from his stolen sword. His eye was once more the slightly unnerving gold of a Sun. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered, holding his gaze steady.

Paen sighed and rolled his eyes, “Issa.”

Hearing just his name, Issa understood his orders. He pressed the tip of Racqein’s sword to the boy’s throat. Racqein started to raise his arms, as if to fight back, then his eye flashed violet again and he froze.

Paen pulled on the reins and his horse slowed to a stop. The horse's feet danced anxiously in place as Paen waited for Racqein to meet his gaze again.

When Racqein finally looked him in the eye once more, Paen smiled. “I want to help you and your sister, I really do. But I need to trust you and know your goals. But you’ve been too strange and have lied so,” he glanced at Issa. With that signal, Issa pressed the the blade in until blood trickled down Racqein’s neck.

Racqein flinched and closed his eye, at once a scared child and the sight sent a pang to Paen’s heart. Then Marisol grabbed his shirt with her rather tiny fists. He looked down and met her big, brown eyes, overflowing with tears, “please, Paen, sir, I’ll explain the eyes and everything just don’t-” she choked, unable to finish.

He let go of the reins with one hand, waving at Issa to tell him to ease up. Then he combed his hand through Marisol’s hair, humming a song of prayer in hopes that it would calm her trembling.

“It’s Cruxion,” Racqein said, “the eye, I mean.”

Paen looked up at the boy, not stopping his attempts to soothe the young girl in front of him. Racqein had a hand over the small wound on his throat. “Your little god?”

If Racqein took offense at the word ‘little’ he didn’t show it, nodding impassively. “He lives inside of me. He has since I was a baby born without breath and my mother prayed to any man or god that would listen to save my life.”Racqein’s eye flicked to the sword then back to Paen, “the sword is his.”

Despite the ridiculousness of the tale, Paen could tell it was the truth, or at least it was what the boy believed to be true... “And why are you traveling on this road?”

“Cruxion wishes to rescue the Princess Eleisiya.”

*

The Priestess’ eyes widened and for a few moments it seemed all she could say was ‘oh’.

Orfen sighed. He put a hand over his bandaged wound and could almost feel the neat, careful stitches underneath. “My name is Orfen and I’ve lived in Takkam my whole life.”

“That’s- I mean, I never heard of one of your kind doing more than just passing through on their way to the Inteba Peninsula.”
Orfen gave her a wry smile, “yes, well. That’s probably where my family was headed when they got killed and I was left behind.”

Her soft blue eyes filled with pity and she placed her rather icy fingers on his face. Orfen flinched and she hurriedly pulled her hands away, “oh, I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

Orfen rolled his eyes, “it’s not... your fingers are just fucking freezing is all.”

Finally, the Priestess’ little apprentice girl found her courage and her tongue, “if you could understand us the whole time, why did you attack me and run away?”

When Orfen looked at her she flinched and shuffled to hide behind her master. Orfen sighed, “I didn’t attack you. I just pushed you out of the way. I didn’t trust you. I still don’t trust you to not report me to the city guard.”

The girl stuck her head out from behind the Priestess, bristling with misplaced righteousness, “have you done something wrong to fear the city guards.”

“Weres can get executed on the street cause something thought they looked a little shifty. I don’t need to do anything wrong. Staining your dress with my blood would be enough for them.”

The girl bit her lip and looked down and away, as if looking for a response.

The Priestess looked back at the girl hiding behind her, then at Orfen, “I promise you. You are free to revolver here in peace. Only the two of us will know you’re here and we will report your whereabouts to no one.”

“Well... maybe not no one.” Orfen chewed worriedly on his bottom lip, “if you see a tall, lanky Islander MorningSun with one eye traveling with a young Islander girl... you can tell them where to find me.”

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