Rise of the Nightbloods

CHAPTER 2 - RAVEN

Excited chatter hums through the air as I near the outskirts of Borziau. A plethora of aromas ride on the wings of the wind. My mouth waters. Stepping into the bazaar is like stepping into another world. Ghzen is a quiet coastal town, filled with the gentle laughter of children and the sweeping of brooms on the streets. Boarziau couldn't be more divergent.

Everywhere I turn, there is another market stall with a merchant peddling their wares. Vibrant colors burst out from every awning, from every skirt, from every finely made headdress the vendors shove in my face. Reds, blues, oranges, colors I've rare seen so plenty practically hue the air. It's chaos. Entrancing chaos, luring me from one stall to the next, each peddler eager to trade. But it isn't lavish silks nor delectable meats I'm looking for.

Heaving a great sigh, I head towards the banking post. I won't let the king's bankers screw me over as they have always done to Tezin. Today, I will return with thrice the amount he's ever sold sunngia for. The fair price.

Ducking past a woman balancing silver platters of cinnamon rolls, I finally make it to the opposite end of the bazaar. Out of breath, head pounding from the array of colors and the constant shouting, I step in line at the banking post. Metal spires atop the gray stall stretch towards the cloudless sky. The symbol of a white hyena is stamped on every surrounding blank space, making it clear the bank is run by the king.

I calm my breaths. Even though none of the guards parading around in their steel-gray uniforms can tell I'm a maji by glance, I nervously shift the weight of the staff over my shoulder. I plead they never find out. If they do, I'll end up in service to someone drunk with power, worked until the magic is drained from my spirit, worked until death. Sure, I could fight with my staff, but it would only get me so far. I'm not someone who can control flame or sea, nor earth or wind. Not even a Psychic, one who can peer into the minds of others, travel through their thoughts and dreams.

I'm just a Seer.

Steadily, the line moves forward. I glance at the guards, gaze straying to the sharp curved blades in their belts, accompanied by the sleek black firearms tucked in their holsters. I've never seen a gun fire before, but the stories of what they can do used to keep me up at night. Quick death. Painful. Terrifying.

I exhale slowly, gripping tighter to my basket as the man in front of me sells his wares for half the value they're worth.

"Name?" the banker asks, staring at me with bored, gaunt eyes.

"Raven Zuthrié," I reply. "Here to sell red-bellied sunngia."

He raises a bushy eyebrow. "How much?"

I present the wicker basket filled to the brim with fish stored in brine. His eyes widen, a spark of greed giving life to them.

"Fifty," he says, reaching for his reserve of gold crescents from a shiny tin box.

I scoff. "That's insulting. I'll sell for no less than two hundred."

The teller narrows his eyes and the guards take a menacing step towards me. My heart pounds a little harder but I don't waver.

"Completely unreasonable."

I grind my teeth. My words fight to slip through. "Sunngia is not in season, and yet I have three pounds. Unless you'd rather I trade to another in my village instead of letting this delicacy fall onto the king's tongue, two hundred."

He glares at me, face a frightening shade of red. "Either you sell for fifty or we'll take it for ten."

The guard closest to me draws his sword. I fight the instinct to back away. Scare tactics are how they rob everyone of their merchandise. Until the blade is against my throat, I refuse to be frightened.