The Kingfisher

XXI : Ailyn

The herbal shop possessed a peculiar frigidness to it. The vials of herbs and oils clinked with every screech of the floor, every meager movement. Outside, the rain was pouring in rhythmic taps. Perhaps the tempest raging in Ailyn's head could transcend the one of the clouds.

She thought that taking a puff of clear air would ease the pressure on her chest, or the dull pulsing all over her torso. Yet the drab atmosphere of Karahi did nothing to mitigate Ailyn's pain and thoughts. It only brought more of that sour nostalgia that reigned over her senses every time she reminded herself it could be the last time she saw the market of Karahi, or the rain, or anything at all.

The princess could walk with more ease after a few hours of rest, but the biting sensation hadn't ceased. It only sprouted by the minute, and although her limbs functioned well, their movement made her cringe. They were like rusty gears, squeaking in protest as they twisted and turned. She felt almost as sluggish as the old hag that had opened her doors to them.

Her nails dug into her palms and her joints stretched to pale lines of rage. She couldn't think about that woman. Not when she was already so weak. The thought that she had fallen so low as to seek refuge at her house made her stomach curl and her step falter. You have to stay silent. For the others. Why did she feel obliged to help those people? She wasn't sure. Perhaps the guilt of her actions had not worn off yet.

She puckered her lips, staring at the raindrops drumming against the thin window. It will never wear off. Not in this life, not in the next.

Ailyn threw one last glance at the dusty shop. Nothing she had tried in there had helped her. As an idea developed into her head, she almost stopped herself. They will recognize me. I will spend my last days in jail. Somehow, she didn't care anymore.

Quickly, she grabbed the wool trench coat off the desk and pulled the hood to cast a thick shadow on her features. Perhaps I need some different kind of healing. With a long sigh, she pushed the front door open.

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The Temple of Light shone even under the filtered light of the evening sun. It was radiant as a star, not particularly hard to locate. Many said it would absorb the glow of everything that touched it, so it would gleam even at night. Its golden pillars cast a lustrous glare on the princess as her rickety legs braced the last steps.

Ailyn glanced up at the temple as a desperate pant escaped her lips. If this doesn't work, I don't know what will.

It was insane that she had even looked towards the general direction of the temple. She knew she was still wanted, and with Musha allying with Seyal it wouldn't be tough for Kage to chase her across that country, too. But why would he care about you anymore? You're as good as dead. She dismissed the voice or reason in her dazed head and took a few long strides towards the towering entrance.

I'm not dead yet. He hasn't won. I won't allow him to.

As the girl reached the glimmering door, she stalled for a moment. What if the priestess gave her away? She wouldn't be able to hide her identity once she was inside. A hooded stranger invading a temple after it had closed its doors to the people was not really discreet.

She sighed a deep breath, trying to expel any doubts that still remained in her mind. What other choice do I have? Stay with Bela and hear her taunts until I die? Gulping down the last of her dignity, she shoved the grand doors open.

The moon's shine pierced through the unusual darkness that lived inside the temple. The marble of the floor was polished to perfection, and yellow swirling paint strokes graced the walls. Even immersed in the shadow, the room's soaring dome managed to capture all the glow of the moonlight. The smell of burnt sage rushed to Ailyn's nose as she stepped inside and shook off her black coat, revealing her soiled clothes underneath. She hadn't taken any new garments from Bela's house. She couldn't bare to.