Ink Forged

~Plain Steel~

Voron stayed silent for a long time, leading her back the way they had come. She ignored the guard at the door once again, then stood blinking reverently in the sunshine.

Maevus inhaled a great breath of the fresh air, banishing the stifling must of the passageways from her lungs in a long exhale. For a moment, all she could do was stare hungrily at the azure sky, watching puffy, gleaming white clouds sail by.

Everything in her wanted to fly—craved the freedom that only came being high above the earth in the thin, silky air.

"This way," Voron murmured pulling her attention back to the ground, and Maevus scrambled to follow his quick steps as he led her around the castle. 

For some reason, Maevus had always pictured castles being surrounded by parks filled with elegant trees and soft green grass. Some place quiet to shelter those who lived in the castle from the noise and bustle of the city around them.

Instead, the grounds surrounding the castle were tiled with the same white stone the walls were made of. It distorted Maevus' vision if she wasn't careful, the bright sunlight bouncing off the white stones.

The walls surrounding the castle were every bit of forty feet high, but were probably no more than twenty feet away from the castle itself. This created a sort of false ravine, and Maevus kept glancing at the sky to hold that crippling claustrophobia at bay—to remind herself that she was outside.

"I know of a few guilds you could go to," Voron offered quietly as they clung to the edge of the castle wall, keeping well out of everyone else's way. "And I know you only have five days before you have to declare which one you'll join. I can help you find one. Do you have a place to stay until you decide?"

Maevus shook her head mutely. She didn't have enough coin on her to pay for a decent meal, much less rent a room for even a day. Savrin's note weighed heavily in her pocket. She wondered if it was coincidence or just irony that had him wanting to meet her at a square named for the goddess of death.

Voron looked around, eyeing the soldiers working to unload a wagon consideringly. Then, he whispered, "I can get you a place to stay."

She frowned, then shook her head. She reached forward to place a hand on his arm, then remembered the registrar and her quill, and decided against it. Her hand fell to her side. "Voron, you've already been too kind to me. To your own detriment."

Her gaze lingered on the side of his face, where the whip mark was still plenty visible.

"What? This?" He gestured to the cut. "This is nothing new."

She might have called him a liar if she hadn't remembered how little reaction he'd had to being struck. Something like that had to be practiced. Her stomach turned queasy at the thought, but she merely shook her head again.

Voron just shrugged. "Suit yourself, then."

It felt as though they had to walk for miles before they made it to the back of the castle. Maevus gawked at the miniature town she found there. Dozens of buildings sat in neat little rows, each a bustling hive of their respective activity.

Butchers and bakers and garden-tenders all worked side by side, toiling away to feed the nobility they served. Maevus heard the ring of metal being worked and the lowing of what she assumed were dairy cows.

The castle was a city unto itself, nearly self-sufficient.

Voron guided her past the hum of industriousness toward the stark, imposing building nearest the wall and a gate that let out onto a canal that had been cut from the river. The iron portcullis was down, turning the softly flowing green water into a checkerboard pattern.