-Chapter Eight- Merhedith

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Chapter eight is here!

I was burning from the inside out. Every organ melted into my feet or dripped out of my ears in a slow painfulness known as burning to death. Heat jumped around my body like an eager dog, waiting for a treat. The surrounding air was moist but heated by the intensifying temperature. Every breath was like a lungful of boiling water, scalding my insides. Once it cooled slightly, it would be replaced moments later. Each drop of sweat was painful and every step was agony. As the heat grew to a crescendo, I saw my savior. Beautiful, it was; tall and unmoving. Nothing, not even the piercing warmness, could break it.

I stumbled from the dusty road ahead of me and veered under the protection of a tree. The shade instantly cooled my skin, though my head still thrummed. Each droplet of sweat no longer felt like burning needles being dragged down my skin, and the rays of the sun couldn't penetrate the green leaves of the oak. I pressed my back to rough bark and ignored the way it poked through my clothing. Honestly, hot weather was a pain.

With annoyance, I looked out over the people on the streets. Most of the people were just walking, some with another person. A few tented booths waited for customers. The infuriating thing was that none of them even seemed to be affected by the heat! A fine sheen of sweat was seen on everyone, but not one person was immediately dragging themselves to the shelter of shade. Two children even had the energy to chase each other, completely ignoring the sun that was currently trying to murder all life.

I rubbed my forehead with the back of my hand and it came away slick with sweat. It wasn't completely the sun's fault that I was burning. Jarad had insisted that I cover my body, as to not let anyone see my dark freckles. My coffee-colored freckles were bound to raise suspicion, whether they believed in the "myths" or not. So, Jarad was obstinate to let me leave without hiding them first. That was part of the deal, he had said.

"If I let you leave, I'm allowed to have a few conditions too, alright?" He put up a finger for every rule he required that I follow, "One, you're back before sunset. Leave during the late afternoon, not a moment later," The second finger went up, "Two, cover your freckles. As soon as someone sees them, you're going to be in deep trouble," The third and final finger went up, "Three, no boys," I shot him an unimpressed glare and he laughed in submission, "Okay, then. Someone can't take a joke in the morning."

So, there I was, covered from head to toe in stifling fabric in fear that someone would see my freckles. My outfit consisted of a long sleeved shirt that was still a bit too long for my arms, trousers with holes in the knees, and a cloak equipped with a hood. Like always, my feet were encased in worn boots.

Once the trauma of the sun had been mostly wiped from my body, I left the shade of the tree. That was most likely the reason I was so hot. My safe-city was tucked into the recesses of the forest. It was sheltered by a healthy canopy of trees, letting through the necessary rain and small amounts of sun, but never too much. Now that I was left to the mercy of the unbridled sun, I was unprepared for the onslaught of heat, unlike the people of the village.

Stepping out of the shade was like being hit with a pillow: heavy and suffocating. I had hoped that the longer I spent in the sun, the easier it would be. Unfortunately, that process took days to weeks, while I only had a handful of hours. So, I was left to just deal with it.

I continued my previous path, following the flow of foot-traffic. Earlier that day, I had wandered from my place in the bushes to the trail. At first, all I had seen were small houses scattered here and there, along with some stores. I didn't have to walk very long before I hit the heart of the village. I expected a bustling market, filled with people gathering products and talking with others. I planned on watching people argue over prices and gossip together. The market failed my expectations spectacularly.

The Ivory Killer (DISCONTINUED)Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora