The night had fully embraced Terrun when he arrived at Katya's house. The streets were empty, swallowed by darkness, interspersed with the occasional glare of oil lamps glowing timidly through the windows.

  No light emanated from Katya's home. The purple curtains were drawn. Leon had no sense of the time of night or how much time had passed since the funeral. He knocked shyly, hoping she would hear if she was still awake. He felt uncomfortable coming to someone's doorstep this late, even though he had been invited.

  There was no response from the other side.

  Damn, it's too late. I'll try tomorrow.

  He had barely reached the gate when the door opened. Katya stood at the entrance, wearing a simple dark blue dress that blended with the darkness. Her black hair cascaded over her shoulders, draping her arms to the elbows. She was small and slender, yet she stood proudly, with grace.

  "You've arrived..." She looked at him with her piercing blue eyes.

  "I hope I didn't wake you?"

  "Oh, no, no. The night is my day." She laughed oddly.

  The light from a distant room flickered behind her. She stepped out on the doorstep and extended her hand toward the entrance. "Please, come in."

  A narrow hallway led to other rooms. Usually, houses in Terrun had simple and empty hallways, but Katya's was covered with dark tapestries depicting the sky, namely the stars on it.

  Above the front door hung a dried bundle of herbs, of which Leon recognized only the head of garlic that stood out.

  She led him straight to the room where the faint glow of a half-burnt candle flickered on the table. The walls were draped with tapestries. The dim light revealed little—only the vague outlines of the spacious room. Above the purple curtains, Leon noticed bundles of feathers, rolled tight like bouquets.

  "Have a seat," Katya said.

  The candle wavered as they neared the table, causing their shadows to dance along the walls. Leon shuddered. He had never set foot in a caelumnar's house, let alone Katya's.

  In Terrun, wizards did not reside; magic was considered a wicked, cursed craft. Terrunians despised it so much that they barely spoke about it; it was a part of their ancient cultural heritage, as the indigenous people considered magic the cause of all evil in the world.

  Caelumnars did not engage in open magic or possess any powers, but they did walk a fine line: they foretold fates, read the stars, recited prayers, performed rituals, and for particularly superstitious Terrunians, that was sufficient. Caelumnars paid particular attention to the sky: they sought answers, returned to the past, and predicted the future. Often, these predictions were vague and unclear, instilling fear among the townspeople, as it is human nature to fear what one does not understand. They probably would have been banished from Terrun long ago if they hadn't been excellent at healing with herbs and balms.

  "I'm sorry I'm coming so late, Katya, I've lost track of time."

  "I already told you I'm awake at night, stop apologizing like you've lost your mind."

  In the faint light, Leon's blush was barely visible—until he realized Katya might still notice, which only made him blush more.

  "I wouldn't want to keep you too long. You said you had something for me?"

  She rose from the table and disappeared, the wooden floor creaking behind her. A distant noise echoed through the house.

  The room was lined with shelves, each filled with a variety of items: books, full jars, ceramic and glass dishes, stones, wooden boxes, and too many candles that were not burning. On the table sat bowls and dishes filled with various liquids—some with crushed herbs floating on the surface, others clear, and some thick and mushy. A vase of tiny wildflowers stood among them.

  The room smelled charming, though it seemed creepy. Leon noticed how his muscles involuntarily relaxed.

  Katya returned and slammed a plate in front of him.

  "Why are you staring at me? Eat first, and then we can continue our conversation. Your stomach is growling like you've swallowed a chorus of frogs! I can't even think since you walked in."

  He had not yet fully recovered from the first pink outburst on his face when he was overwhelmed by a new one. He hadn't eaten all day and felt he could eat an ox, but it was his first time in her house, and he hardly knew her. What if she put something in his food? What if she wanted to enchant him? Poison him? And yet, how could he refuse her without sounding impolite? He tried to push aside his suspicions and his belief in such circumstances. It was not in his nature to think like a typical Terrunian.

  He carefully took two or three slices of dried meat and a piece of bread, avoiding all the mushy contents on the plate and the boiled vegetables, not knowing what she had cooked them in. Just in case, a measure of precaution, he thought. He hardly ate anything out of mere politeness.

  Katya didn't even look at him. She continued talking as soon as he ate a few bites and his stomach calmed down.

  "Are you done?"

  "Yes, I am. Thank you." He was happy she asked.

  She got up and cleared the plate from the table, the distant clatter echoing through the room, then returned with a medium-sized wooden box carved with symbols.

  "I'm sorry about Rafa," she said, "I know how close you were to him."

  How could she know?

  He was too tired to inquire, so he remained silent, wanting to leave as soon as possible.

  "Since Rafa has no heirs, spouse, children, or relatives, his house and all his property will belong to Terrun. The Council will assess its value, after which it will be available for sale," Katya explained.

  Leon didn’t have time to think about it. Just a few days ago, they had been working together, hunting—he was there. Rafa was always there. It all happened so fast. Despair overwhelmed him: now, all of Rafa's will belonged to some stranger.

  "Um, Katya... what will happen to the cobbler shop?"

  They had spent so much time together there.

  "Are you stupid or crazy? I just told you, everything's going to be for sale. Everything! The shop is an integral part of his house—probably the most valuable," Katya snapped.

  Thoughts rushed in as if carried by the wind. He knew what he was asking was insane, but he asked anyway:

  "Is it possible to buy just the cobbler shop?"

  She gave him an inscrutable look.

  "I suppose so, yes, I believe someone might want to buy just the house, yes...," she said, then, as if suddenly realizing why he asked, she snapped, "But where will you get the money for that, young man? Do you even have any idea how much it will cost?"

  "How much?"

  She laughed resoundingly and plunged into the back of the chair.

  "How much? Ha-ha! You ask as if you were a goose laying golden eggs. A lot!"

  The way she moved—her body language while talking, swaying back and forth, then suddenly leaning toward his face—made Leon uneasy.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  "Can you at least tell me an approximate value? Your free estimate?"

  He clung desperately to every salvation straw he could invent as if any of it mattered: he lived off the salary he earned at the cobbler's and had no savings.

  He no longer had a job or a trade in his hands. Rafa never entirely taught him. He never disclosed his secrets to anyone; no matter how much Leon insisted, Rafa would smile and say, "All in good time, boy, all in good time." But all the time in the world had leaked out of the sand timer.

  "I can't say exactly, but I believe the estimated value will be at least five hundred arkens."

  Leon became thoroughly disheartened. His salary at the cobbler shop was barely five hundred forins in a complete lunar cycle, not even amounting to five whole arkens. He had always known that Rafa had a soft spot for him and paid him more than he deserved. Even if he could find a job that paid equally, it would take him more than eight years of savings, provided he didn't spend a single forin of what he earned—which was impossible.

  "Clearly, we mustn't wait too long for an assessment because the value decreases over time."

  Katya was one of the members of the Terrun Council, which wielded its power only in situations that left no other choice. Terrunians believed in freedom above all else, so the Council was established to protect and preserve customs, ensure freedom for the locals, and regulate life at a higher level without affecting personal lives, except in the case of judgments.

  They had the power to punish those who violated public peace and order, endangered the freedom and rights of the locals, and desecrated cultural monuments, wherever they came from, so the Council members were highly esteemed in society.

  It consisted of four members. The first two were representatives of the social groups: Keepers of Tradition, Art, Customs and History; Guardians of Public Peace and Order; the third member was a representative of artisans; and the last was Katya, a representative of caelumnars. The four members made decisions by voting.

  Each association elected a representative, who oversaw his domain, and the longest-serving member on the Council was worth two votes to prevail if the ballot was two against two. Katya had been the oldest member for several years, as the member mandate wasn't limited. Caelumnars appeared to be the most united, even though they were the fewest.

  "Well." Katya abruptly broke the silence they had both drifted into. Leon startled. "As I already told you, I have something for you." She pulled the wooden box closer, unlocking a metal latch. Leon couldn't see its contents.

  "Since Rafa had no heirs, I thought it was natural that his personal belongings, which we found on him, should belong to you, given that you were his closest friend."

  Closest friend. His heart skipped a beat. He felt a lump in his throat as she lifted the wooden lid. He didn't expect anything Rafa owned to belong to him. No matter how much time he spent with him, they weren't blood-related.

  She pulled out a dagger, which Leon took in his hand. It was as light as a feather. He's never seen it before. The handle, which began with a shining ruby in the center and swirlingly ended with a grim-eyed bird with outspread wings that served as a comfortable grip, was made of pure gold. Two dark blue stones gleamed under the candlelight, like bird's eyes. The blade, no longer than three lengths of an index finger, made of the finest steel, tapered towards the top, giving the impression that the gently curved edge, not thicker than a lion's fang, could cut through the stone itself. The sheath was made of a sturdy material that Leon couldn't identify. The top and bottom were adorned, and the sapphire-blue middle was polished.

  "This necklace wasn't on him, but Daedalus found it not far from the body. I thought it might be his."

  A simple silver chain ended with a symbol of the sun with a crimson ruby. It was unfamiliar to him, or, at least, he couldn't remember ever seeing it on Rafa, but he lied instantly at the thought of where it might end up if he told the truth.

  "It's his."

  He knew that the best lies were the simplest ones.

  Then, she pulled out a ring that Leon immediately recognized. He had always admired it: cast in silver that broadened from the bottom to the top, ending with claws holding a beautiful deep-blue topaz, almost the same color as Rafa's eyes. The four claws were made of the same stone. His eyes filled with tears.

  Katya also pulled out a wide leather belt, similar to the one Leon was wearing, which Rafa also personally made, but this one was black, with a few more loops and holes. She handed him a water paunch, too.

  A wave of warmth enveloped Leon. These things were far from replacing Rafa's presence, but having something of his comforted him; it warmed his chest.

  The box remained empty, and Katya continued to gaze at Leon. For an instant, under the dim light of the burnt candle, her eyes seemed to glimmer as well.

  "Are you thirsty, boy?" she finally asked.

  Not even the whole paunch that stood before him could quench the thirst he felt.

  "No," he lied.

  "Of course you're thirsty—your mouth is as dry as a rock." Before he could object, she poured liquid from a pitcher into the mug before him.

  For some reason, the mistrust was diminishing the longer he stayed in her home; the scents relaxed him. He cautiously took a sip. Chilled mint and lemon leaf tea moistened his dry throat and cooled his boiling stomach. The sensation was spoiled only by the unfiltered crumbs of dry leaves. He finished the entire mug in four gulps, after which Katya pulled it toward herself.

  "I won't have more, thank you. I should go," Leon said, but she didn't pour more tea. Instead, she stared into the mug as if reason had left her.

  She didn't speak for some time, and Leon felt uncomfortable interrupting her.

  "Dark times await you, boy," she finally spoke. "A shadowy path lies ahead of you, hiding many challenges you haven't grown into."

  From the top of his neck, a hundred ants crawled down his spine, descending to his feet, as she pierced the silence with her hoarse voice.

  "I see you divided several times; you stand between two fires, between heart and mind, not knowing which path to take. And just when you think you know—life will lead you to the other side. But before you even embark, your heart will be broken again."

  She spoke evenly, in one breath.

  "I see a tremendous burden, a grave secret you will carry with you, concealing it from the world. Because of it, your own life will hang by a thread. You will commit something unforgivable. A colossal shadow will loom over you. The child of darkness and night will be at your heels."

  Every word she said deepened the fear he felt.

  "Yet, only in that darkness can you find yourself. If you're brave enough to dive into the night, many doors that have long been locked will open before you. Behind them is light; in front of them is darkness. Which of the two will prevail will be up to you. If you open them, many lives will be lost; if you don't, they are already lost. But beware: once you open them, there's no turning back. And be careful—many have gone blind before that light!"

  Leon was terrified. His palms were clammy, and his mouth had dried up. He nervously twirled Rafa's ring in his hand. Though he couldn't understand a word of what she said or find any connection to his life, something about it deeply disturbed him.

  Like a mug, she grabbed his hands with her long royal-blue nails, matching the color of her dress and eyes, and pulled them towards herself.

  Just a few days ago, he was ready to go hunting bears, buffalo, snakes with Rafa, and was happy about it like a child taking its first step. However, his heart wanted to jump out of his chest as he stepped into this woman's house, and complete horror overcame him when she grabbed his hands.

  "Nothing," she said, cutting him off with a bewitching look as if piercing into the depths of his skull. He didn't avert his gaze but swallowed the lump in his throat.

  "Nothing?" Leon asked shakily.

  It was incredible to him how long she could go without blinking.

  "But what does that mean?"

  "I see the magnificent but tragic fate of the past life, but in this life—I see nothing. On your palm, there are no lines of life nor lines of fate."

  Something cut through his stomach.

  "Does that mean I will...?"

  "... Die soon? It may be. I've never seen a person missing both lines before. Either you'll live long, or you'll meet an early end. Be magnificent or be cursed. Become someone or remain nobody. Either way, your destiny will be different from all the destinies anyone has ever lived."

  "Isn't the fate of each of us different?"

  Her laughter drove out the last shred of reason he had managed to hold on to.

  "Crazy boy, you really amused me! All of this has been seen before."

  "But..."

  She suddenly got up and, one by one, returned the objects she had previously given to Leon to the box. Lastly, she snatched the ring he had been unconsciously twirling.

  "You've put unrest under my skin, boy! Stop spinning that ring and cease shaking that leg like you're out of your mind!"

  She threw the ring in the box, closed it, and shoved it into Leon's hands.

  "I have no more time for buts. Come on, something much more important than your destiny awaits me."

  She stormed out, and he tried to keep up. It was already a pitch-dark night, but his eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness while sitting in Katya's room.

  "There's something else I need to show you before you go," she said.

  Katya turned right along a paved path leading from the house, flanked by various herbs, bushes, and flowers on both sides. Even in the dark, her garden was beautiful. Leon assumed she cultivated all the ingredients for her rituals, balms, teas, and potions there.

  The garden ended with a stone fence, next to which, at the trail's end, stood Hurricane. Faint moonlight glimmered on his muscular, silvery body. The dark mane flickered in the midnight breeze.

  He stood proudly, his neck strong and resilient, his gaze lost somewhere in the darkness. It seemed he was waiting for someone, unaware that someone would never return. Yet, he appeared ready to wait forever. The shadows of the night accentuated every muscle on his body.

  "He's been like that all day, refusing to move."

  "Hey, my boy," Leon whispered.

  The whole poem could be written about that fraction of the moment when their gazes met and what could be seen in their eyes: recognition, grief, pain, the missing part—the same one—hidden tears, and warm blue eyes, the color of topaz.

  The stallion sighed several times, then neighed long and painfully as steam billowed from his nostrils. He lowered his head in front of Leon, who leaned his forehead against his long muzzle.

  "I miss him, too," he said so that only Hurricane could hear him, "but we have to move on. You know how he was—that's what he'd want."

  They stood embraced for a long time, bathed in a pearly light. In that embrace, their hearts wove golden, unbreakable threads, only woven with rare companions. In silence.

  With wet eyes, Leon bid farewell to Katya, after which he would go home and finally close his eyes, ending this sad, gloomy and long day.

  He heard a soft trot behind him—Hurricane followed him.

  "Just as I thought," Katya said, "I have something else that belongs to you."