Runaway

Tears streamed down her face, tracing lines in the dust. Her legs ached and feet throbbed. She stumbled blindly down the road. At least, she thought she was still on the road. It was difficult to tell. The sun had long since set.

She had no idea where she was. No idea how long she had been walking. No way to defend herself. No plan or purpose to her movements. All she knew was that she had to keep going.

As the leagues rolled by, she felt herself drawn. Nearly dragged, at some points. She still had no idea of where she was or where she was headed.

Then, out of the darkness, a form rose on the horizon. A small sound of surprise slipped from her lips as her bleary gaze traveled the length and width of the form.

As the sun lightened the eastern horizon, she stumbled through the main city gates. The guards barely glanced her way.

The early morning traffic threatened to overwhelm and swallow her.

At last, she stumbled up a set of stairs. She staggered through the space with a wave of murmurs and whispers in her wake. There, at the foot of a towering statue, she collapsed and the black nothingness of sheer exhaustion consumed her.

She was unsure how much time passed. She thought she remembered waking once or twice to a figure hovering over her. She knew time had passed, but was unsure how much.

The early morning sun danced over her face, bringing her fully awake. She sat bolt upright and looked around. Her surroundings were unfamiliar. She pushed herself to the edge of the small and simple pallet, and tried to stand. Her legs trembled and her knees threatened to buckle. As she dropped back to sit, her stomach voiced its disdain.

A gentle knock sounded at the door. Before she could answer, it swung open wide. A lithe figure entered balancing a tray and carrying a pitcher.

“Oh,” breathed the figure as she turned to face the girl, “thank the goddess you’re awake. You had us terribly worried. I was going to fetch the high priestess if you didn’t wake by midday.”

The girls brow furrowed. “Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here?”

The rich aroma of roasted meat filled her nostrils and again her stomach complained.

Color shot through her face and she clamped her arms around her abdomen.

“First things first,” the older-looking woman replied and placed the tray on the bed in front of her. “I’m Priestess Sophia Brooke and you’re in the temple of Jade in the capital city of Debash. We have no idea how you got here, where you came from, or even who you are. Three days ago, at dawn, you stumbled into the sanctuary and collapsed at the feet of the statue of our blessed goddess. Now, eat. I’ll return when you’re done and then we can talk.”

The door closed behind her with barely a sound. The girl was left alone. Ravenous as she was, she ate slowly. She washed everything down with long sips of cool water from the pitcher. As she ate, she took in the simplicity of the room. Gray stone walls stood unadorned. A small wash basin and pitcher stood in the corner, next to a small chest with three drawers.

Sophia returned and dropped onto the bed across from the girl. “Now, lovely girl. Do tell . . . who are you? Where did you come from? And why are you here?”

“My name is Lirin Vibert,” she answered at length. “I’d rather not talk about my past, if it’s all the same to you. Not yet, anyways. I don’t know why I’m here. I just know that I had to get away, and this is where I was led.”

After several long minutes of silence, the priestess nodded. She stood and motioned for Lirin to follow. “Come, I’ll show you your new home.”