Young Writers Society

Scion of the Moon

Chapter 1

Farewell to Foss

Tun woke up to the sound of scurrying feet and crackling flames. The temple around him was alive with activity, normal for a place of worship in the morning.

He sat up in his cot, the stone floor begging him to embrace it again. He resisted the temptation to go back to sleep and went about regaining his bearings. He looked around at the cathedral roof held up by stalagmite-like columns of Wren's temple. The sun symbols and roaring fireplaces lining the walls were somewhat less impressive after twelve hours of negligence, but the monks would tend to both in turn within the hour and this place of worship would once again inspire awe.

The other patrons of Wren's hospitality were waking up from their respective dreams, stirring noisily as they went about packing their belongings and preparing to leave. Many of his fellow tenants made noises of complaint as they started their morning routine, none too eager to charge into the blistering cold outside. They all knew that they couldn't loiter within the temple walls for the entirety of the day, as enjoyable as that sounded.

Tun turned away from the mob of travelers to the woman laying beside him. The figure hidden beneath the ragged blanket was wrapped as tightly as a strip of twine, and it broke his heart to end such a peaceful sleep. She was sleeping a bit further from him than he would have preferred, but still lose enough to touch. He placed a hand where he thought her shoulder was and pushed gently, stirring his fiancé awake.

"Mel, darling. It's time to go." He whispered to her prone form.

She rolled over to face him, a groan escaping her cotton cocoon. A single honey colored eye peered through a haystack of brown hair, droopy and unfocused in morning stupor. "But Tun, the rock hard floor is soooo comfortable. Can't we just lay here a moment longer?" She bemoaned, rolling over to bury her face into the stone slab that served as her mattress. He tried not to laugh at her antics.

"I'm sorry, but we can't." He said gently, a thought occurring to him. "I'll start packing up, and if you're not halfway ready by the time I walk out that door I'm leaving you behind." Tun lied as he crawled out of his cot, unfortunately he had to stand up to roll it up and every bone in his body cracked in protest. He reached for his bag which remained exactly where he had left it. The past few months of travel he and Mel spent together had been uneventful as far as petty crime was concerned, or crimes against their person in general. Despite the warnings their elders had given them before leaving on their journey they had yet to become the victims of robbery or violence.

Tun stuffed the rolled up pile of linen into his bag, shoving it far to the bottom past the shovel and tarp, his other belongings safely stowed in pockets and compartments specifically devoted to them. He patted his clothes off, trying his best to remove the accumulated wrinkles and dust, and stood up to stretch. Mel had already gone about folding her bed-roll, much more neatly than he had his own, and was rubbing the wrinkles out of her own tunic and leggings by the time he had forced a boot over his foot.

The other patrons of Wren were already shuffling towards the gargantuan doors that served as the temples entrance. Many of the men and women were on pilgrimages like their own, others just passing through the town of Foss to one place or another, and others still were simply destitute and in need of a roof to sleep under. Several orange robed men stood on either side of the doors, handing out dried foods from baskets to whomever asked for it.

Tun and Mel donned their heavy jackets and made for the door, bypassing the twin food stands. A major tenet of the Triviate is that one must not take that which they don't need. Tun and Mel had properly prepared for the journey before leaving the warmth of home in the eastern valleys. Their food and money stores were in no danger of running out.

They were first to leave and so Tun was first to push open the wrought-iron doors. He expected to suffer the blistering winds of winter, but it didn't come, instead he was bathed by a steady stream of sunlight, blotted by the sparse clouds above. Spring had not yet arrived but she was announcing her approach to the world, Tun however knew winter would not go down without a fight. He and Mel continued on past the massive columns and down the stone steps of the solar temple that had housed them for the three-day long blizzard. The freak weather had proved such an obstacle to their journey that they had to postpone their departure, but were still ahead of schedule so it mattered little. They bade farewell to the handsome ziggurat and continued on into the city itself.

The high towers that housed the citizens of Foss were as imposing as ever, breaking the sunlight more thoroughly than the clouds above, though not as absolutely as the stone archways strung between them like a spiders web. In more agreeable seasons the bits of plant matter hanging off of the terraces, overpasses and patios above them would be emerald-green and sporting bulbous red fruits, but in the last days of winter they were little more than detritus collections, brown and yellow with decay.

They passed under the tall minarets whose domed patios sheltered entire families from the elements. Tun still marveled at the sheer size of the brown and orange structures. They held the color and texture of sandstone and were all fused together as a single mass. It was as if a giant had dug up entire blocks of the building material out of seaside cliffs and brought them here near some of the highest peaks of the Scij mountains, planting them in the ground with skilled precision.

The city was lifeless this early in the morning,with only a few well dressed civilians trudging along the overpasses above them, fewer still walked on the streets beside the young couple. He promised himself that they would visit this fair place again, when the warmth of summer gave life to the hanging gardens and people thus sustained.

Mel tugged on his arm, waking him up from his musings. "Let's go. We've already spent more time here than we had planned." She said, pouting in a way that belied her age. She wouldn't be sixteen for another month though, so she was entitled to act childish for just a little longer. They continued on through the many crossroads that stitched the sleeping city together and went east to the main road connecting Foss to the many towns and cities that called the Scij mountains home.

They arrived at the city entrance just as the sun finished rising. They passed through a checkpoint of sorts, the only one they had come across in two months of traveling, and continued on, bidding farewell to the armor-clad Cilic soldiers that patrolled the mouth of the main road. More of the copper plated men and women stood along the twin precipices on either side of the path.

Tun led Mel by the hand and together they stepped through the archway that welcomed all visitors to Foss, and returned to their journey.