Beneath Shadows and Secrets

♔ 𝕱𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔶 - 𝕺𝔫𝔢 ♔

Tomorrows updates will probs be in the evening because I need to do the quick chapter edit. My dissertation is due on Friday so hopefully once it's done I'll be back on track guys!

Let's goooooo

♔ 𝔑𝔦𝔯𝔞 ♔

Rage simmers within me, a moment away from boiling over.

I stride back to the market, Calix and Libitina hardly a step behind. They say nothing, and neither do I. They are not the kind to try and offer condolences, or attempt to appease me. I am glad for it, for it means they will not judge me for what I plan to do.

Outside the butchery, I skid to a halt. "NEXER!" I shout, banging my fists against his door. No sound comes from inside, and I do not bother to call for him again before I am throwing my weight into the door, falling into the butchery as the door sails across the room.

It smacks into the wall with a deafening crash, knocking knives from where they hang and sending rolls of parchment across the floor. I march to the next room, prepared to take this off one from its hinges too, but it creaks open.

"Nexer?"

His wide eyes peer from around the door and he whispers my name. It is hard to respond when I see him completely. Nexer, the plump, sweaty man I knew is not the one that stands before me now. His clothes hand from his frail and thin frame. His jowls droop and the skin beneath his eyes hangs with a tired weight. He looks weak, with skin pale and covered in the same sores as the girl in the alley, though his are scabbed and faded as though healing. Teeth are missing, and what little hair he had left on his head has fallen out completely.

"How? How?" He stutters out, choking on the words when he sees those stood behind me. "No, no."

"It is alright –" I interrupt him, jamming the door open as he tries to slam it closed. He fights against me, banging it against my foot but the wood only starts to splinter. He gapes. "They are not here to hurt you. They are fine."

I can only thank my prior sense for covering my own ears with my hair. It was in the hopes of seeing my family again, and wishing not to startle them. It has worked the same for Nexer. "Why have you brought them to me? Get out," he starts to cry, and though sympathy forms within me, I do not meet his request.

"Nexer tell me what happened here." I demand of him, pulling the door further open. I notice the dark stain on his pants – he has soiled himself. "Tell me where everyone has gone, why there are so many dead."

He shrinks away with a sob, flinching when Libitina takes a step forward. I stop her with a raised hand, and my other holds him still by his shoulder. "Spring brought sickness. It took many. We could not manage the dead." He cries, and my jaw aches from how tightly I clench it. It is always the poor that must suffer. Those with so little left to lose. We receive no help. Not even to respect our dead.

It is hard to force out my next words. "Did it take my family?"

He is trembling now, clinging to the door frame, but I do not mistake the shake of his head. "No. They had medicines. They were sent goods for months, and the tonics saved them." I blink at that information. Zaire's doing. He kept his word to me. It is a shame he failed to keep the rest. "Then they came."

"Who came?" I insist.

"The Fae. The Fae." He whimpers, eyes scrunched shut as he speaks. Never have I seen this man in such a state. He was always so loud and impatient and humoured. Now he shakes and weeps with fear and desperation. "Not long ago. They raided every house the day they arrived, and dragged those that lived on to the street.