War Of Men

Kaya

A dark horse trotted beside Kaya. All day it had been full of energy. Kaya hated that horse.

Six hours ago, when they had set off, Kaya had thought she was fit. Now her feet hurt and she missed the palace. Rather ironic that after being desperate to leave for so long, she would give anything to be within those walls.

The Chèr had tried to sell the pilgrimage as something spiritual and a chance to think. That was far from the truth for several reasons. Firstly, Kaya was running out of time. She knew that a war declaration would follow the pilgrimage, so she now had to hurry to find the murderer within the next two weeks. Secondly, a Leere was standing beside her. No matter whether they had hearts or not, Kaya still required a great amount of self-control in order not to punch one. Lastly-and this was the greatest distraction-it was loud.

In light of all the recent cases of various Eseterrians dying, being gravely injured or almost having their sisters almost get poisoned, the Chèr and Sutoku had set themselves the task of trying to keep the pilgrimage dates a secret from anyone. Whether that had succeeded or not, civilians didn't care. They'd see the group walking down the path and begin trailing them.

The noise wasn't actually Kaya's biggest problem with the pilgrims, it was how they put her on edge. She kept thinking she saw Ahmya or the man that had stabbed Arcane. She knew it was completely ridiculous since the former was on several wanted posters for the off-chance that she decided to return and the latter had managed to commit suicide in his cell. Regardless, Kaya found herself sticking to Zazhil Feyer.

Eztli had refused to come along. Kaya had been hopeful they'd finally get the chance to get to know each other properly, but it seemed not. There was something about the chef, their eyes were bitter like coffee and sometimes they stopped mid-laugh like a twig snapping. Kaya wanted to understand them further and the trip seemed a good chance to do so but Eztli insisted that while they liked Kaya as a person, they refused to participate in anything religious.

'It's not like I appreciate this religious dribble. Come with me, we can make fun of it in the evenings,' Kaya had begged.

As if they'd lost all control, Eztli had thrown the bowl they'd been pouring ingredients into. 'No!' Their fist had clenched and they had taken a deep breath, attempting to regain control. Then they had explained, 'It's not just that. I don't want to leave Liara and Akia.'

Maybe it was for the best. They were forbidden from talking during the journey. Most of their fellow pilgrims showed their support by remaining silent themselves, but some of the guards and locals had begun to loudly chatter amongst themselves. Occasionally, the Chèr would send disapproving glares their way but with no success.

Fortunately they had timed their journey well. The warmer days of spring had arrived, when the sun shining on your skin made it feel several degrees warmer than it actually was. The snow had cleared, replaced by mud. Kaya didn't mind the traces it left on her shoes, they were only walking boots, after all. Being dirty and comfortable were their two purposes.

In spite of the blue sky, the travelers were wary. It wasn't uncommon for snow to fall after spring took hold. They'd been told to pack only what they could carry, so many had furs on over their outfit, causing them to sweat. Kaya had stuck with her signature tank top against everyone's advice. Maybe she'd have to join Arcane in the carriage if a blizzard struck.

More hours passed. Kaya could feel the blisters starting to form on her feet in spite of the thick socks and high quality boots. She tread lightly, sharply inhaling when she pressed into one of the blisters. Looking at Emilee and Merari's pained expressions, she wasn't the only one. Even the Chèr was starting to droop a bit. At his side, Hjalmar perkily marched along. Kaya supposed he'd got used to walking while invading Soustren at the end of the war.