Young Writers Society

The snow was falling lightly.

It almost seemed like a white, lace curtain was hanging from her window. These days though, the snow held little interest for her. Rather, as she sat slumped against the wall of her room, her focus was directed at the small object in her hand. The silver piece of metal had sharp coldness to it as she twisted it between her fingers. The ring was completely smooth except for the shallow engraving of the Sirafell Coat of Arms - her father's coat of arms. Her father had once told her that the ring was actually made of iron and only silver plated on the outside. It symbolised that the Illyari were the hidden guard, the Emperor's invisible army. He had also told her that the ring had been soaked for a day and a night in the Emperor's own blood.

So that his blood is always on our hands, as is his life.

Lia clenched her fist around the ring. It seemed that now her father's blood was on the Emperor's hands.

I swear I will make you pay. She grit her teeth as the images of her dead parents came to her mind. Somehow, in some way, I will make you cry as many tears as I have.

“Lia! Are ya joinin' us tonight?” called a female voice from behind her door. She could hear doors opening and shutting as people began to make their way downstairs.

“I'll be down in a minute!” she replied, tucking the ring - which was attached to a chord around her neck - back under her shirt. She inhaled and exhaled deeply a couple of times and tried to smooth out the anger and hatred from her face. When she thought she felt ready enough, Lia pushed herself off the ground, grabbing her coat before heading out of her door and onto the landing. She joined the other patrons all heading downstairs and towards the common room. Every evening at the Jolly Trout every able person would head to the common room for an hour or two of entertainment, which mainly consisted of singing, playing music, sharing stories or most especially, dancing. Ascerians and most mountain people were infamous for being extremely social and their evening's of getting to know each other was considered an important part of their day. Despite her current mood of wanting to strangle the closest living being or at least shutting herself away from the world, Lia was obliged to attend these gatherings lest be frowned upon. She had been able to avoid it on the first night of her stay because she was ill, but to continuously do so, especially after the visit from the Illyari would be seen as rude and suspicious.

Downstairs was abuzz with a general sense of happiness and festivity. These people did the same thing every night yet still showed up with the same vigour and excitement as if it was their first time. The great hearth in the adjacent dining room was roaring and gave off a wonderful warmth; the light from its flames casting dancing shadows upon the walls of the common room. Some mountain man had pulled out a flute and had begun playing it and skipping around the room. The people, all mostly older men and a few women, began to dance around him to the music. Some clapped their hands and some chanted a song, but Lia went to sit by the side with the only other person who never danced, Ehander, the inn keeper.

“Hello, Lia,” he said, smiling at her as she sat next to him.

“Hey, Hans,” she smiled back at him. She watched as he turned back towards the festive crowd, a wistful expression sliding across his face.

“Why don't you join them?” she had asked on her second night joining them.

He had smiled at her and said, “I've tried a few times. But.. I'm just too slow and unsteady on ma feet. I just end up gettin' in the way and ruinin' it for everyone.”

He had been born with a shorter leg, he had told her later, and had been hobbling his entire life.

“Why are ya sitting out?” he had asked her.

“I have a... weak stomach.”

“A weak stomach...?” he had looked at her with a dubious expression.

“Yes,” she laughed nervously, “I vomit easily. If I tried dancing, you would end up with a slippery floor.”

In all honesty she just wasn't in the mood to attend these atrocities let alone participate in them. Though, she had become somewhat friendly with Ehander over the past three nights that they had sat on the sidelines, often chatting, and she had been able to gain snippets of news from him. By now someone had pulled out a harmonica and the crowed was now engaged in some sort of stomping activity. Lia inwardly frowned in distaste.

“The blizzard seems to be calming down,” she said.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. We're enterin' what we call Fillanver, or the calm between the storms. Here in lower Jiandri's Teeth, when a blizzard calms there is usually a window of nine ta fifteen days of light or no snow. Ya'll probably see most of the patrons here leavin' ta continue their journeys, and new people enterin' the inn.”

“Ah, I see. It would probably be a good time for me to leave too then,” she mused out loud.

“Probably,” he replied, “but I would leave quickly while there's still light snow. The mountains are more dangerous than usual.”

“More – argh!” Someone had nearly stomped on her hand. Lia shook her fist at them but they had already moved on. Shaking her head, she turned back to Hans. “More dangerous...?”

“Mmm, ever since it's become widely known that the Emperor intends ta wage war on Ascerai, things have become more volatile. I've heard that he's goin' ta make the official announcement soon.”

Lia's fingers curled into a fist at the sound of the Emperor's name.

All he wants is violence. All he wants to do is kill.

Her nails dug into her palm, Calm down. Calm down.

“A war with Ascerai? I thought the Averence was against the idea?” She kept her face directed at the stomping crowd. Calm down, calm-

“Haven't ya heard? The Averence is dead. No one stands in the Emperor's way now.”

“Dead?” Lia thought back to when she had been lost in the mountainside.

"The... ence... dead."

The tower clock was too far for Lia to hear what the time keeper was saying. Gusts of wind were also blowing some of his words away. Lia could only tell that someone had died, but who?

"... the Clock... eeper of ti..."

Lia strained to catch his words.

"Tallon... Darr... ied... time... stop!"

Tallon Darr? The Averence? Dead?

“Oh yes! I remember,” She had been too concerned with her own survival too care much about it then, but now it did strike her as strange. “How did he die? It's so sudden.”

“I know,” Hans shifted his position so that his feet weren't so close to the happy stompers. “They say that he was taken by a deadly illness and that the rest of his family lie in critical condition.”

“But he would have had access to the best doctors, and even sorcerers.” How could one of the most powerful Liandorean men, an Architect and a member of the Noble Houses, just die out of an illness?

Ehander shrugged, “It must have been a terribly strong illness. I mean, what else could it have been? The Emperor would never lie about the Averence, everyone knows how close they were. They say that the Emperor's grief was inconsolable.”

Lia closed her eyes and leaned her back against the wall. “I suppose you're right.”

"Tallon... Darr... ied... time... stop!"

Suddenly the man jumped from the tower clock and plummeted to his death.

Lia sat up again, “The time keepers!”

“What?”

“I saw one jump off his tower clock the day the Averence died.”

Ehander nodded, “It's their custom ta do that. Every time keeper kills himself when the Averence dies, so that no-one except the new Averence can restart the clocks.”

Lia shook her head in disbelief, “They can't all have jumped; they can't all be that loyal!”

“I know, I thought that was weird too.” Ehander looked around and lowered his voice, “I was talkin' ta a witch who had stayed here fer a night and she had said that she'd been curious too. She told me that she went up ta a fallen time keeper and found traces of magic.” He leaned in closer to whisper to her, “She said that she thought they might have been bound by a blood oath.”

Lia gasped quietly, “You mean they were compelled to jump? With blood magic?”

Ehander nodded gravely, “It seems so.”

She shivered and pulled her coat closer around her. She had spent most of her life in Jallon, Nordyire, a place filled with festivity, laughter and warm weather. She had never expected Liandor to be such a harsh and unforgiving place.

The crowd had stopped dancing and most had lined the walls so that they could get a view of the latest spectacle. A young man in the middle of the room was hopping on one foot and clapping, he hopped forwards and backwards and left and right. The crowd cheered as he changed foot and began to hop in precarious positions, at one point swinging his body forward, his face almost skimming the floor. The crowd oohed and ahhed.

Ehander had joined in with the clapping and cheering and Lia could only bring herself to clap feebly.

“Isn't he just great at Sriansar?” Ehander's younger sister, Clarith, the serving girl joined them, her face flushed from all her previous stomping.

“One of the best I've seen in a while,” agreed Ehander. “What do ya think, Lia?”

“Srian...?”

“Sriansar, the dance Carsander was doin',” said Clarith.

The crazy hopping...? thought Lia. “Oh yes, he's uh, great.” She gave them a weak smile.

The crowd gave a whoop as the young man called Carsander hopped while somehow slapping his palm on various sections of the floor.

Clarith looked at her excitedly, “After this it's the singing!”

Lia groaned inwardly. The singing was always the worst because she was actually expected to take part.

***

Lia trudged wearily back to her room. Her eyes were heavy with sleepiness but she needed to start planning for her departure. Sitting on her mattress, she grabbed her bag and fished out the instructions and maps that her father had left her. Her father had told to go to Ruthen in Ascerai, to meet a man that he trusted. According to what Ehander had mentioned in previous conversations, the Jolly Trout was situated on Ascerai's side of Jiandri's Teeth, and that it was on a lower area of the mountainside. This meant that the tunnel had taken her much further then she had originally thought, and that Ruthen wouldn't be as far as she had feared. If she left tomorrow or the day after then she might even make it there before Fillanver ended. She put her hand to her throat and felt the ring through the fabric of her shirt.

Ma, Pa, just wait. I will make him pay for what he's done. Somehow, in some way, I will make him pay.