“Itán?” Does anyone even live there anymore?” I asked.
“Of course,” the old schor said with a ugh. “Not a lot, but there certainly are people up there. A vilge full at least.”
“Itán? Really? There must be somewhere else.”
“Well, if you would rather risk a journey across the Tempest Seas I’m sure you could find some very ancient magics abroad. But if you want to stay alive, I’m afraid Itán is the only vilge in The Realm left untouched by the inquisition.”
I paced across the old study a few times. The old schor just watched me with an amused smile.
“So be it. Itán it is,” I finally said.
“Jethro,” the old man said as he grabbed my arm. “Be careful. I know no one has seen an inquisitor in over a generation but it is rumored among the wise that they still control the realm from the shadows. I wouldn’t tell anyone what you’re up to if I were you.”
***
I prepared a light pack. Itán was only a two day walk from Castletún but the mountainous wilderness was considered very dangerous. I packed a quarterstaff, shortsword, and a sling. Other than that I merely brought an extra shirt and some bread and cured meat.
Before dawn, I slipped out of the workhouse, the air thick with mist and silence. Each step felt lighter, the weight of that pce finally peeling away. For the first time in years, I was free.
But freedom came with a hollow ache. The workhouse had been a prison, yes—but even prisons held familiar faces. I was leaving behind what little I had.
A sudden gasp shattered my thoughts. A broomstick cttered against the cobblestones, echoing through the empty streets.
“Jeth…ro,” it was the foreman’s maid hiding in the shadows.
“Amelia. What are you doing out here so early?” I asked in a hushed voice.
“I came to ask you the same question,” She whispered, stepping closer. Her lips trembled. “I saw you take the foreman’s staff and sword.”
The morning mist seemed to curl in around us, cold and menacing. Suddenly I no longer wished to leave. But there was no sense in trying to make a life here in Castletún, no matter how much I would miss her.
Her pale grey eyes shimmered, her lips parting as if to speak—but she didn’t. She already knew.
“I’m sorry, Amelia. I’m going to Itán. I’m not sure if I’ll ever come back.”
Her lips trembled and she grabbed at my shirt.
I grabbed a fistful of her long dark hair and pulled her close. “We’ll see each other again, I’ll make sure of it.” I pulled her hair a little tighter and she squeaked. “And don’t tell a soul where I’m at, don’t let anyone know you saw me this morning. Understand?”
She nodded.
I let her go and brushed my fingers through her soft hair to smooth the tangles I just created. She smiled, closed her eyes, and leaned in toward me.
My heart leapt and I took off into the mist.
As I crossed the threshold of the city gates I realized Amelia lingered in my mind. I kept repying our quiet moments in the dining hall, how I used to tease her just to see her flustered. At first I was just a nuisance, teasing and getting her into trouble. But tely I would just help and talk to her. I hadn’t put conscious thought to it before then but that really was the best part of my days at the workhouse. My one escape from that dreary life.
Leaving her behind gnawed at me. I wanted to go back for her—to take her with me—but that was impossible. Not yet. I had to be smart about this. I’d come back for her when I was stronger, when I had the means to keep her safe. But could I really promise that? Could I really promise her anything?
I didn’t understand why I pulled her hair like that. I thought I should have felt guilty, but I didn’t. I felt thrilled. The way she gasped, the way she stilled beneath my hand… I could have pulled her closer, and she wouldn’t have resisted. No, she would have yielded. The fear in her eyes wasn’t just fear. It was something else, something deeper. And the realization of that—of what it meant—I wanted to explore it further.
Enjoying Itán? New chapters release early on Patreon—always one chapter ahead!
patreon.com/LucianVale
