“There’s still so much we don’t know.”
“And there’s still time. I’ll do research, like I said. There must be something written, somewhere, about the Forgotten Gods and the wisps. The Temple would have tomes on them, I’m sure. If only we knew where Inari was from. It would certainly narrow down the search. From the accent, I would place him as from the Northern Territories.”
“He was very cagey about it.” Aloisia twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “If he hasn’t been out of the Dead Woods, he must have scaled the cliffs to get there. Which is insane.”
“Lis, it has been a very long day.” Tristan ran a palm down his face. “Couldn’t we rest and talk this out in the morning?”
“We need a plan.”
“Can’t we have one tomorrow?”
“We now have a witness who can say the shadow monsters were heading towards Littlewatch the night Brighde died.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch.” Tristan leant forwards, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I mean, sure, he said they were heading eastward. He didn’t say they were going to Littlewatch. We just assumed.”
“He didn’t negate it. Maybe it’s a safe assumption to make.”
“Perhaps. But there is also the minor matter that our ‘witness’ is a hermit living alone in the woods and, by his accent and the potential theory of how he arrived in the Dead Woods, is not a citizen of Teneria. Also, he may not agree to testify.”
Aloisia sighed.
“We would do better to think of this come morning. Bright and fresh, after a good night’s sleep. If possible, when the moon is so high already.”
“Fine.” She rose, casting aside her tankard and furs. “Do you suppose they would let me see Fynn? If I asked?”
“Lis… I’m not sure they would, given the circumstances.”
“I don’t believe he even knows what’s happening. Not really. He was in such shock.” Unbidden, images of her brother holding Brighde’s lifeless body, of him kneeling upon the platform, his eyes unseeing, came to her mind. And now, he was in a cell, on his own. While it had only been a day, it was a lifetime to Aloisia. So much had changed, and so quickly. She was barely able to wrap her mind around it; how would Fynn?
“I know.” Tristan wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her towards the ladder up to her bedroom. “But you won’t do anyone any favours exhausting yourself trying to make this right.”
Aloisia wasn’t sure she could stop until she had righted this grievous wrong. After all, Fynn’s life was on the line.
As they settled beneath the furs atop her bed, she cast her gaze out the small window. The gnarled branches of the Dead Woods were silhouetted against the waning silver moon. They lay there, side by side, and Aloisia listened as Tristan’s breathing deepened. Exhaustion weighed on her, yet she could not succumb to it. Instead, she resolved to watch the moon dip further down, until it was no longer visible. Then, she turned to the stars, and prayed to the Divines that they would find justice.
When Aloisia awoke, Tristan was no longer beside her. Though she had remained awake long through the night, unable to still her mind, sleep had finally sunk its claws in, dragging her under.
She raked a hand down her face, wiping away the lingering traces of sleep. The sun filtered in from the window, the morning still early. Propping herself up on her elbows, Aloisia gazed out to the Dead Woods, the ashen branches dark against the pale blue sky.
Questions still raced around her mind and Aloisia wondered if Inari could answer at least some of them. Not that he would have reason to. As he’d said, his offer was a one-time thing. Perhaps if she had something to barter, she could convince him to give up more information now she’d mulled over what he’d said.
Aloisia plucked at the bandage around her palm. Panic still seized her heart at the thought of the marking branded there and what magic it might hold. She had not wished to question the shaman the night before, even if he may have had answers on it. In truth, she did not wish to face the reality of what it may be, or what it might mean.
Slowly, she unravelled the bandage. The sunburst stared up at her. It coiled at its centre in a whorl of inky black, with tendrils snaking out around it. Her stomach churned as she looked at it. The uncertainty of what it meant, what it might do, had her leaning towards seeking the shaman. But this was a man who’d held a blade to Tristan’s throat and would have killed him. How could she trust him, or what he had told them?
Aloisia puffed out a sigh, wrapped the bandage back across her hand, and pushed herself to her feet. She rummaged through her chest and found a fresh set of hunting leathers to change into. As she descended the ladder, she found a letter on the side table.
Tristan.
She lifted the sheet of paper and skimmed over his words.
Aloisia,
I have to leave to attend morning prayers. There are chores I must see to also, thus I will be busy most of the morning.
With High Priest Silas assigning most of us to research duties, I will use my time within the library to find out more about these gods Inari spoke of. Hopefully, this will shed more light on the matter.
Meet me at Temple Green around midday, and I will tell you what I find.
