Maro had read the notice that the figures had posted in clear view. He was pretty sure everyone who could read had read them, and those who couldn’t had had someone else read it to them. It was the Seasons’ priests and priestesses who had placed them, so Maro didn’t blame people for their curiosity. Curiosity was innate in Maro; it was practically an instinct. The priests and priestesses had posted the notice outside the Sanity Center, so anyone entering the city would know, and anyone using the Sanity Center for its geographic steadiness would see it as well.
The message was clear. Morwen, Goddess of Winter had shirked her duties, and the remaining Seasons meant to make her pay. More than that though, they were calling for the blood of anyone associated with her. First, it spoke only of those marked by Morwen, but by the end of the manifesto, it seemed to target the Vantha people in general. The wording throughout always mentioned those “marked by Morwen,” but in the end, it had specifically mentioned the Vantha marked by Morwen. Fruthermore, the notice gave descriptions, but the first was not of Morwen’s Gnosis Mark. It was of the Vantha people, their stature, their dark hair, their shifting eyes. Only after this did the notice mention what the Gnosis Mark looked like.
Maro found that concerning. If the problem was truly with Morwen, then only those who bore her Mark, only those who were intimately involved with the forces of winter, should be targeted in this hunt. If the problem was truly with Morwen-
Had that notice said shifting eyes?
He read it again, and sure enough, there in the description of the Vantha people it was mentioned that they had eyes that danced and shifted between colors, like the dancing lights of an aurora. That meant little to Maro, as he had never seen an aurora before, but he imagined it was beautiful. In the matter of a moment, his curiosity stifled his horror at the call for blood. He had to know more about these people.
To that end, he was making his way to the Sunken Conundrum. Or at least, he was attempting. Over half a year into his stay in Alvadas, Maro was still no good at navigating the ever-changing streets. Helpful strangers had given him advice, but no matter which advice he followed, he always managed to remain lost for far longer than he ought to. Some people said to watch the illusions, that certain illusions that matched the theme of one’s destination would lead one to their desired location. Some told him to simply believe that the city would allow him to arrive at his destination. He’d even followed the advice that the key to his home would draw him toward it. None of it worked. Instead, Maro lived in a perpetual state of being lost. He’d spent a fair share of his nights in Alvadas sleeping on the streets, nearly half of them, in fact.
Today, he tried the first approach, the one that told him to follow similar illusions. The first thing he thought of was books. The Sunken Conundrum was a library of sorts, so it made sense that anything related to books would send him in that direction. After a bell of following signs of pages and doors with hinges like book spines, he found himself standing in front of the Acumen Asylum. With a sigh, he moved on to following signs of water. He’d been in the Conundrum once before and had been sure he was going to drown; the place was completely submerged. The new path he followed had walkways that looked like rivers and illusory waterfalls spilling out of cracks in walls. It wasn’t until the illusions began to fade that he realized he was approaching a familiar place, the Patchwork Port, home of the fishing industry in Alvadas. Had he been in his jackal form, his ears would have flicked with annoyance; as it was, he just glared at the port and the last illusion he had seen.
Giving up on using the illusions to guide him, he tried the second approach, and Alvadas mocked him for it. He had begun his search early that morning, and it wasn’t until the sun was nearly setting that he found his intended destination. He was tired, and when he thought about it, it would have been best if he started trying to find his home now. Still, curiosity was what it was, and it was one of his strongest drives. He stepped up to the front door and opened it. |
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