Rain dripped from her hood as Serene paid the vendor. Eight copper coins for two apples. She stepped back into the street, pulling Theon along behind like a shadow.

  “Here,” she said, handing him the bigger of the two.

  He smiled, toothless gaps like tiny black windows scattered across his grin. Theon bit the fruit with a crunch, rain rolling off his chin. For a moment, it felt like a normal day.

  The crowds and streets looked the same, but they felt different. The people walked shoulder to shoulder, yet every step was divided. At least the afflicted, forced to mask their tears, were able to have the sky cry in their stead.

  “We should start heading home,” Serene said. “Mother will have dinner done in the hour.”

  “I haven’t been outside since the riot happened. I’m glad you and Father are back. It was boring with you two gone… and scary,” Theon said.

  “I’m sure it was,” she started, placing a hand on his back, “but I heard how brave you were. I know you made Father proud.”

  “Do you know why the city hates people like me and Mother?” he asked, his voice calm and curious—his innocence added heaviness to the question.

  “Lower your voice.” Serene glanced around without drawing attention. “They don’t hate you or Mother. They just pretend to. It’s easier than facing what they don’t understand.”

  “What happens if someone finds out?” he whispered.

  “They’d have to go through Father first.” She squeezed his hand. “And after that, they’d have to face me.” She flexed her arms and scrunched her face like a warrior.

  Theon laughed, grabbed her hand, and finished his apple on the walk home.

  But what would happen if someone found out? she wondered, gripping her brother’s hand even tighter.

  “We have a little more than a silver left,” Serene said, turning onto their home street. “Why don’t you pick a beggar to give it to.”

  “Why do you always give money to them?” he asked.

  “Remember what the priest said in his sermons? ‘Bless your neighbors around you, and the gods may bless you in return,’” Serene said, handing him the coin.

  Theon ran up to the beggar nearest them. His head hung low, soaked black hair stuck to his face. A tattered blanket draped over his head, offering little shelter from the downpour.

  Theon placed the coin in front of him, his grin warm. “Here’s some coin, mister.”

  The rugged man didn’t reply. Serene’s eyes narrowed, uneasy.

  Theon’s smile lessened.

  “Let’s get going,” Serene said, seeing Theon linger.

  Theon took his emerald-green cloak off and laid it over the wordless man. He turned and ran back to his sister.

  Serene said nothing. She just smiled, warmth blossoming in her heart.

  They raced to their front door and stepped in.

  “The Shade might be our best option, Thera,” Henry said from the kitchen, his voice taut with stress. “I know it isn’t ideal, but Serene and I enjoyed our stay. It wasn’t all bad.”

  “Yes. You’ve said that,” Thera replied, her tone strained. “But I don’t want our children raised underground, void of light!”

  She stepped into the doorframe, her back to Serene. “I want them to feel the sun on their skin, the breeze against their cheeks. What about Fort Tarasian? Joran would help us find stay. I know he would.”

  “Joran has already stuck his neck out for us more than I can count. If he got caught aiding us, he’d be executed on the spot,” Henry sighed.

  Thera turned, her face exhausted, and saw them in the doorway.

  “Oh, I didn’t hear you two had returned!” she said, forcing some excitement.

  “We just got back,” Theon started. “Are you okay, Mother?”

  Their mother’s smile lost its composure, and for a moment, she hesitated.

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  “Of course, honey. Your Father and I are just tired from all the work we’ve been doing. Come now, set the table so we might eat.”

  Serene wanted to give her opinion on the matter, but thought better of it. She followed Theon into the kitchen and started to set the table.

  They ate slow-roasted venison and cabbage, savoring Thera’s cooking as utensils clinked and rain pattered off the roof.

  “This is good beef, Mother,” Theon said, his mouth full.

  “It’s venison, but I’m glad you like it,” she said, running a loving hand through his hair.

  Henry tore off a piece of bread and tossed it onto Serene’s plate without a word. She smirked and split it in two, careful to give Theon the bigger half. He grabbed at it like it was the last thing he’d ever eat.

  “Mother,” Serene said, her voice coy, “Father’s throwing food again, like a child.”

  “Tattletale,” he said, grinning. “That’ll be the last time I pass you bread.”

  They laughed.

  Fear and stress gave way to love and comfort. Even if just for a little while, it was enough.

  Act Two

  Serene climbed the steep steps to the shrine, pausing at the first landing to catch her breath before continuing upward.

  The shrine was quiet and peaceful, the city’s sounds muffled by stone and rain. She bent over, huffing. The familiar scent of incense drifted, though the downpour had dampened its intensity.

  “You’re late. Again,” Taya called, dawdling toward her.

  “I know, I know…” Serene said between gasps.

  “How do I always beat you here when you’re the one who picks the spot?” Taya teased, her posture playful.

  Serene wiped rain from her cheeks. “Because you’re more fit than I am.”

  “Or perhaps I leave early so I have no need to rush.”

  They approached the altar in quiet, respectful steps, each taking a candle from the votive stand and lighting it from the torch flames.

  The walls around them were painted in elaborate scenes, portraying tales of the pantheon.

  On the western wall, the goddess of life, Staterra, was shown crafting the world in secret, only to be blinded by her father for her defiance.

  Serene was always drawn to this wall. How could someone be punished for creating something so beautiful—by their own father, no less? she thought.

  The northern wall depicted Ushil and Nia, the gods of the sun and moon, taking their oaths to watch over their daughter's world.

  She gave a passing glance to the eastern wall, where the god of the afterlife, Mortuus, stood in the midst of a heavenly battle. Struck down by unknown enemies, he died on the field. After being born into the afterlife, he vowed to guide the souls who followed from his sister’s creation.

  Serene got to both knees and bowed in veneration before the Blind One’s statue. It was carved from marble, kept pristine from the dust and time.

  She whispered in prayer.

  “Thank you, Blind One, for lending us another day. I know it’s far past due, but I thank you for protecting my mother and brother during the riot.”

  Her voice dropped to a breath, inaudible to any prying ears.

  “I know you gods see them as rejects, but it means everything that you’d protect them, for my father’s sake, and mine. Please… keep your protection over my family.”

  She walked over and sat on the bench, Taya waiting for her.

  “I gave my thanks to the gods for aiding my family,” she said, her eyes sincere. “but you deserve the same gratitude. Thank you, Taya,”

  “No need,” Taya replied, her eyes meeting Serene’s. “I view your family as my own, Randal does too, even if he may not voice it.”

  Stillness settled between them, a silent acknowledgment of their shared affection.

  “What is it you pray for when we meet here?” Serene asked.

  “I don’t pray to them,” she said. “I thank them.”

  Serene gave a puzzled look, her face scrunching.

  “During my hardest times as a child, the gods never answered when I’d prayed for help. They may watch over our world, but they didn’t save me, your father did.”

  “So you don’t like the gods?”

  “I love the gods. But I don’t believe they can alter fate like most do.”

  Taya looked up at the ceiling, painted in prophecies. “Perhaps, they are at its whim as much as we are.”

  “But… they’re gods?” Serene said, confused. “They decide our fates.”

  “And you can decide what you believe. It's just how my experiences have led me to think.”

  “What does your handsome brother think?” Serene said, a smirk forming. “More importantly, what does he think about me?”

  “You’ll have to ask him that yourself,” Taya laughed.

  “Shhhh!” came loud and quick from the priests stationed in the shrine.

  They shrugged, mouthed apologies and left, giggling.

  Serene and Taya lifted their hoods, running down the steps toward the street. The moon hid behind stubborn gray clouds. Rain still pounded against the cobblestone.

  They walked together a few blocks, passing the beggars still searching for shelter. Across the street, a patrol scurried down an alley, their torches fighting to stay lit.

  They both knew where the guards were going. They knew it was likely a report of an afflicted, but kept their silence as the truth grew bitter.

  “Today was fun,” Taya said, pausing before splitting ways. “I missed you while you were gone.”

  “I missed you, too. Same time next week?” Serene asked, grabbing her hand, rain ricocheting off their skin.

  “Yes,” Taya replied, squeezing before she released her hand. “Don’t be late this time!”

  Serene remained for a moment, watching her visage blur in the rain, smiling to herself.

  I wonder if Taya would join us when we leave the city? she thought, turning back home.