Blood Ties

Chapter 1: Nadia

Salt spray stung what little of her face was bare as relentless waves crashed against the shore, her billowy robes rippling in the strong winds. The thin white material was somehow both durable and soft as silk, able to bend and fit to her body without clinging to her skin. Nadia shut her eyes, listening to the pounding of the surf. The other priestesses had never understood her fascination with the ocean, with that immense mass of blue-gray water and changing tides and the little sand crabs that scuttled about on the rocky shore. 

Then again, they were priestesses of fire, keeping the city's burned sacrifices and the hearths of the citizens fueled. The majority of the girls were born and bred street urchins or orphans taken in by the nuns. They had grown up wandering between the marble buildings and across the cobblestone streets, with the odours of horse dung and human refuse mingled with street food that vendors hawked and exotic fragrances sold in marketplaces. Not like her childhood, surrounded by the tang of salt, the warmth of sunshine, the rhythm of the tide. So of course, they would not understand her love of the ebb and flow against the sand and the tide that brought in mysterious creatures of the deep.

Nadia barely felt the cold, flinging her arms out and letting the breeze whip at her clothes, catching her brunette strands and tangling them. When she had first come here as a child she had been rubbing her gloved hands along her arms, teeth chattering, her entire body shivering with the chill. Now she had grown used to it and would come every morning simply to breathe in the salt air, to feel invigorated and alive. Not trapped or guarded by the dozens of matrons who would be watching over her for the slightest sign of injury, even a paper cut.

Only one guard stood sentry at her back, a good distance away but still able to keep her from any harm. As if she might be pierced by some blade or arrow all the way out on this deserted beach. It simply wouldn't happen: her gown covered her from ankle to chin; her boots came over the knee; her gloves were always on and she veiled her face whenever she was out of the temple. No inch of her skin could be exposed to risk.

But she never covered as much when she was by the ocean, trying to escape the suffocating trappings of clothes and guards and surveilling eyes. Nadia stared up at the position of the sun; it was dawn now and she had snuck out when the sky was at its darkest. There were no more minutes left to be out in this peaceful wilderness; she needed to leave and go back for the first ritual ceremony of the day with the rest of the priestesses.

She cast one last look at the grey water, the lightening grey sky, and felt more grey herself as she walked back into the city. Wrapping the veil back around her face and tucking its edges beneath the hood of her cloak, she strolled along the rocky path, gaze fixed upon the ground beneath her feet. Heavy footfalls made her spine stiffen and she stopped to listen. People rarely came along this stretch of the beach, which was why she liked it. But was that rule about to find its exception?

"Good morning," a masculine voice said, and she snapped her head up to see a tall man, his lean frame covered by a black wool coat that ended at the knee and brown knee-high boots. The sharp angles of his face were half in shadow by his hat, but a youthful aura belied his craggy appearance. "I am new to Milona; could you tell me where the temple is? I wish to offer my sacrifices before beginning a new day."

Relief sank in her as she realized her beach wouldn't be taken over. But the wariness that had been drilled into her rose up as she answered him. "I, too, am on my way to the temple. I will guide you there."

"So, fair stranger, what brings you to the temple?" This stranger was far too chatty in his strange accent.

He certainly was from out of town because the few men that did see her, saw a veiled woman and assumed she was either married or a celibate priestess. The veil symbolized a woman's devotion to either a husband or to a religious cause. Though for Nadia it was simply to protect her skin.