Chapter 3; The Glory Rivet

ARWYN

"Arwyn, seriously, what the Heavens were you thinking?" Leigh's voice reached me as she wrung out a rag in the compact kitchen.

I stumbled home, worn out and battered, and Leigh wasted no time bombarding me with questions and scolding remarks. I was exhausted from hearing her lectures about the disastrous idea of dealing with Pete. All I wanted was to collapse and tend to these cuts.

She strolled over, bowl of water and fresh rag in hand. The chair in the corner protested loudly as she dragged it over, settling down with a purpose. Her golden hair, secured by one of her simple knitted bands, framed her face. Leigh didn't own a ton of hair accessories, but the few she had did little to diminish her natural beauty.

In the cozy corner of our small apartment, Lilith played with dolls crafted by Leigh from our old clothes. Kale, now a scout on his way to becoming a soldier, was nowhere to be seen.

Leigh muttered to herself, "Stay away from that Pete, but you never listen. Nope, not at all." It was adorable, and I couldn't help but smile.

"For the hundredth time, I'm fine." I pressed the bowl between my palms, set it in front of me, dipped my hand, and waited for the power that always surfaced when I willed it.

"Lilith, close that window!" Leigh snapped at her younger sister, crowned with golden hair and sporting ocean-blue eyes. Over the rolling years, these sisters had become everything to me. Obediently, Lilith dropped the curtain and joined us, her little hand in Leigh's own.

"Is Arwyn going to shimmer-shine?" Her tiny voice chirped.

"Wanna witness the glow glow?" I echoed her with a gentle grin, and she enthusiastically nodded.

"Do it quickly before someone spots you, or you'll be joining the Embers," a concerned frown creased Leigh's forehead. She could be quite motherly, but I understood – she'd been looking after Lilith and me for a long time, even Kale whenever he was home.

"Is Arwyn leaving?" Lilith's eyes blinked at me.

"Never, Goldy," I reassured, pouting before wiggling my hand in the water a couple of times, turning it a brilliant blue that outshone Leigh's eyes. Lilith's mouth formed an O shape as she stared in awe, even though I'd done this a dozen times before.

After feeling enough of myself merge with the water, I pulled my hand out and pressed it to my side. The cut. I cursed a little as a slight tinge ran through me.

Leigh clutched Lilith's hand tightly. "You'll vanish if you keep dealing with Pete," her eyes locked onto mine as a mysterious light emanated from my side. I withdrew my hand, and the cut had disappeared – no blood, no wound. My skin had mended itself as if the incident never occurred.

"Pete pays me well. It's how we survive in this house." With the process complete, I carried the bowl, lifted the curtains, and tossed the water into the street, where it mingled with muddy puddles on the cobblestones.

"We could still thrive. I earn good tips at the Glory Rivet. We can have meals on our table without resorting to dirty work."

My lips tightened into a thin line. "You'll never understand, will you?"

"Understand what, Arwyn? You risk yourself, Lilith, and me just for a thrill. It's child's play," she declared, rising from the wooden seat and heading to the kitchen, where she stuffed dirty plates into the sink. "I picked up some meat pies from the Barley Bakery on my way back from work. Interested?"

"I'm not hungry," I sulk. Lilith, caught between our banter, soon yawned, her six-year-old hands stretching above her head. I scooped her up, ignoring Leigh's sigh echoing behind me.

It's always this way—me, the supposed villain, and Leigh, the virtuous one, a saint. It's as if I'm constantly striving to make her happy, but nothing I do is ever good enough. Sure, working with Pete carries risks, but it's all I've got. She thrives at Glory Rivet, but I have no idea how to navigate the world of bars and hostesses. I don't even want to become one.

Footsteps echo in the hallway, signaling Leigh's presence, but I refuse to turn around.

I tuck Lilith into bed, pulling the worn blankie up to her neck. Her lashes flutter softly against her cheek.

"Look, I know you have your reasons, but can't we find some middle ground?" Leigh implored. Stepping out of the room, I closed the door slowly to avoid any creaks, then turned to face Leigh's expression of hopelessness. "I'm just trying to keep you safe."

"You don't have to do that. I'm not Lilith or six years old!" I snapped.

"No, you're not. But ever since I found you, I've felt responsible for you."

I rolled my eyes, perching on the brick windowsill and gazing into the night sky. She spoke as if she were years older than me. Leigh was only a year my senior, and she didn't find me—I found her.

I had been on a job for Pete in Ketel, retrieving a centuries-old mage's book. Pete was a Diremage, one of the deadliest Blessed around. A single touch from him could seize a man's heart and I've seen him play a man like a puppet before leaving him off to die in the gutter in blistering cold. Crossing Pete meant trouble, and I knew it well. It's one of the reasons he's wanted by the king. He's a Blessed, like me.

What better treasure to add to his imperial Embers than a Diremage.

After stealing the book, I was on the run from soldiers who had discovered me. Clad in black from head to toe, I bumped into Leigh. She was carrying a three-year-old Lilith, both fleeing for their lives from imperial soldiers who mistook Lilith for a Blessed.

However, Leigh wasn't a Blessed. Her mother was a Terramancer, and her father was an ordinary man. It made sense why she wasn't a Blessed. I couldn't abandon them; they looked so helpless and I had a small apartment in Wrym, so I brought them with me. Kale was away at the time, and when he received word, he came running to find them. Yet, Ilyndor became a better home for all of us.

"I'm good, Leigh. Seriously. I'm the maestro of my own decisions, and I'll dance with whatever consequences come my way."

A hush descends upon the room, a delicate symphony of silence, while tears cascade down Leigh's cheeks. With a grace befitting a ballet, she lifts her dainty hands to brush away the tears. "You don't understand. I've witnessed Blesseds torn from their homes to join the Embers. I can't bear the thought of them taking you."

"No one's sweeping me off anywhere. I've got a knack for keeping myself unscathed, maybe with a few busted lips along the way," I quip, a smirk playing on my lips as she manages a strained smile. She glides toward the window, taking her place by my side. "Kale's back in Ketel, scouting."

The unsought information raises an unasked question in my mind. "Why the update on Kale? I didn't inquire about his whereabouts."

"He's hell-bent on donning the soldier's mantle," she reveals. "And it's only a matter of time before they send him into the Mossy Woods, that hideous place."

The Mossy Woods stand as an unwavering no-go zone for all inhabitants of Vakythia. Even neighboring cities like Eldora and Quasar steer clear of those ancient floors. Hideous monsters lurk within, creatures like nightmares that haunt the tales of those brave enough to whisper them. Rumors abound of ghostlike figures glimpsed beyond the forest's edge, seemingly poised for an attack. Farmers from the outskirts, particularly in Ketel, claim these specters have crawled into the countryside, leaving tragedy in their wake, but the veracity of these accounts remains shrouded in uncertainty.

"Why the sudden warrior spirit?" I inquire.

"He believes it's the only shield to keep those he loves safe."

I lean in, a spark of curiosity in my eyes. "And when is he slated to return?"

Leigh scrutinized me with a keen gaze. "Two weeks," she declared. The weight of those words settled in, stretching out like an endless horizon. Two weeks – an eternity. I absentmindedly tucked a few unruly strands of hair behind my ear, drawing in a sharp breath as my fingers toyed with the ring on my finger. The ring Kale bestowed upon me, dubbing it the "Ring of Bravery." Whether it was a symbol of strength or an unspoken crush, well, we did share a kiss once.

"Good riddance," I muttered, a smirk playing on my lips. "I might as well claim his bed."

Leigh's smile burst forth, a celestial spectacle that rivaled the sun, the moon, and the stars combined. A radiant smile that turned her eyes into twinkling orbs. "And his portion of meals," she added.

"Speaking of meals..." I leaped from the window, darting to the kitchen. The plate of meat pies still beckoned, so I snatched one and shot a sly glance at Leigh.

"I thought you weren't hungry."

"You know better than to believe that," I chuckled, taking a succulent bite and releasing a satisfied moan. The meat pies from Barley Bakery reigned supreme. Nothing, not even Leigh's sweet donuts, could compare.

Leigh, ever perceptive, wrinkled her nose. "What I do know is that you smell like a rat. A bath is long overdue." She tossed a cloth my way, and though I fought the urge to roll my eyes, she was right. The scent of my frantic running lingered. Tonight had been a cascade of failures, and I pleaded Heavens, Pete wouldn't unleash his wrath of silence on me once more.

Leigh settled onto the rugged brown rug at the heart of the apartment, cradling a meat pie. "Take a bath. We wouldn't want anyone thinking we dragged in a mole."