The Scarred: An Epic Fantasy Series by C.K. Rieke

Author:C.K. Rieke [Rieke, C.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crimson Cro Publishing
Published: 2024-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

The sunlight glistened down onto the city of Guillead, making the dim, dank gray of the city beam with a pure white. Persephone made her way toward the sea, almost skipping down the road. Soren followed carefully overhead, trailing her, curious about where her destination lay. The smell of the saltwater and the sound of the water crashing against the black rocks that lined the choppy coast permeated thick in that part of the city.

She travelled at a brisk pace through the emerging crowds. Persephone should be frantic and recoiled into anxiety and fear, Soren thought, not strolling through the afternoon streets. There was something very different about her this year. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

She drew little attention. Few gave her attention as she walked around corners, through markets and down long stairways toward the sea. Persephone was small for her age, even stringy and wild-haired. Her clothes fit her frame, but were weathered and frayed at the edges. She blended in, something Soren wished he was more able to do, and he even admired in her.

Eventually, a full two miles away from the incident with the boys, hopefully leaving them with a lesson learned and a large bump on the fat-necked one’s head, Persephone seemed to have arrived at her destination.

She stood before the cathedral, with her stance wide and her arms behind her back. Her focus was up, high on the bell tower three stories above the street. It was the middle of the day, but she looked both ways and at the entrance, which for a Sunday, had almost nobody around.

What the blazes is she doing?

She walked casually to the side of the building, which was out of sight for Soren, so he climbed up higher to a lofty roof with hanging linens.

Then she climbed.

Soren raised an eyebrow, scratching his chin. A sharp headache splintered into his head. The coffee and bath hadn’t completely washed away the booze from the night prior. His head was foggy, but it perplexed him what she was doing. Normally on her birthday there’d be songs and treats in the orphanage hall. At seventeen, she was climbing cathedral walls? He crept around and down another building as she climbed the face of the old cathedral wall. He watched as she disappeared through an unlocked window.

He scratched his cheek.

Should I follow? Or be done with this as a final farewell? I could wait here and make sure she gets back safe. Or… But his curiosity was too much for him to say goodbye just yet.

He ran with careful footsteps along the rooftops toward the weathered cathedral, finding another unlocked door near the bell tower, and fell into the dark interior.

Inside an old chamber, perhaps belonging to long-dead priests, there was little else besides cobwebs and moth-eaten clothes on the floor, thick with dust. He made his way out of the chamber and down a couple sets of stairs and through the abandoned rooms left for the ages.

He opened a half-size door, which appeared to be for some sort of maintenance, and squeezed through.

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