The Elements: Secrets of the River (Ch. 1.2)

Here's the second half of chapter one. Thanks for reading.

She stepped into the street and began walking east, towards the Mountain, towards the market, and regrettably, towards the palace. She could see the palace from here. Although Eitan was one of the largest city in Alastair, the King’s palace was so large that it could be seen from anywhere in the city. The King had had his palace made from the crystal of the Tiergan Mountains. When she was little Adya had wondered why the palace was so big. Then her father had explained that from far off, from outside the city, it looked as if there were no palace. It just blended in perfectly with the mountain. Adya was glad that from inside the city she couldn’t see the huge, gaping scar the King had left on the mountain. It was just another one of the King’s ridiculous paranoid precautions.

It was quite a long walk to the market, which was Adya’s first stop. By foot it took about forty-five minutes to get there. But for Adya it usually took an hour. She tended to get lost in the giant city even though she’d lived here her whole life. All the buildings looked the same, were the same destitute grey, giving her no reference point to where she was. But the market was only a couple of blocks from the palace. So Adya just headed in the general direction of the palace, though she tried not to look at it. Occasionally she would turn for good measure.

The closer one got to the palace, the worse living conditions got. Adya saw more than one beggar sitting on the street, each one holding their hands out to her as she passed, hoping for a coin or piece of food. She just averted her gaze. The King did not pay well for all the work he demanded, so Adya’s family had no money to spare.

‘How must it be for these people?’ she wondered. Adya’s family worked for the King. As much as she hated it, at least they would always have a steady job, a steady income. That is, as long as the King was pleased with what they made him. But what about the others? They had no such protection.

‘Do we even have such protection?’ she thought bitterly. Her family was at the King’s will. What if, on a whim, he decided he did not like Adya’s mother’s clothing anymore? What if he decided that the embroidery wasn’t adequate enough for a king? What then? Would he lock them up? Kill them?

She shuddered at the thought. Death was always a very real possibility.

Adya shook her head, and for the third time that day had to calm herself. It was ridiculous how much effect the King had on her. She couldn’t even think about him without feeling the same paralyzing fear she had experienced when he’d taken her father. To keep the fear at bay she began humming a happy tune her mother used to sing, when sewing had been fun. There were words to it, but Adya had long forgotten them.

She heard the market before she saw it. It started out as a low humming sound, but steadily grew into the hearty thrum of chatter. Adya arrived at the edge of the market and looked around. There were people all around, crowding stands, standing in the streets bartering, and there were even some performing songs or dances, trying to earn money.

‘Here we go.’ Adya thought, taking a deep breath before stepping into the hustle and bustle of the market. She walked slowly, looking at all the different goods being sold. It wasn’t that she was interested in buying anything, she was just putting off going to the palace for as long as possible. Many of the stands were selling food: fruits, vegetables, beans, eggs, meat, etc. Others, however, were selling clothing, jewelry, bags, and other miscellaneous items.

‘Hmm. That’s odd,’ she thought, picking up a potato at one of the stands. ‘Everything looks smaller than usual.’ It was true. This potato was smaller than her fist, which was quite tiny.

“How much for this?” she asked the seller, out of curiosity.

“That?” the old man asked, jabbing a finger at the potato in her hand. His hair was grey, and it looked like he was missing a few teeth. “That’s five silver coins.”

Adya felt her jaw drop open. ‘Five silver? For a pathetic little potato?’

“Five silver?” she repeated her thoughts out loud. “For a little potato?”

The man scoffed at her stupid expression. “Girl, don’t you know? We’re in a famine. I can’t sell anything on this stand for less than five silver.”

Adya’s eyes widened and she let her shocked stare wander over the other products on the stand. Everything was so small. Lots of the products even looked spoiled. “Really?” she asked, bewildered.

“Really, really,” the man replied, snatching the potato from her hand. “Now if you can’t afford to pay, then I can’t afford to have you loitering around my stand.”

Adya looked at the man baffled, but after a moment turned and walked away. She had heard rumors of a famine but hadn’t believed them. Her family always had enough to eat. But seeing those pitiful vegetables . . . ‘I suppose we really are in a famine.’ This realization made her wonder if the gossip about a drought was also true.

“How strange. . .” she mumbled to herself. A story came to her mind, a story she hadn’t thought about since she was little. It was a story that the storytellers told when they visited the city. It used to be one of her favorites when she was a child. The story of The Elements.

‘How does it go, again?’ she shut her eyes, trying to remember. It had been so long since she’d heard it. All she could remember was that it talked about famine and drought plaguing the land. . .

“Adya!”

She jumped, hearing a familiar voice shouting her name gleefully from the crowd.

“Oh no.” she whispered in a groan. ‘He found me. . .’

“Adya!” He called again, closer this time. Too close. She suddenly felt a hand grab hers and twirl her around to face the person calling her name.

“Balin!” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic through her clenched teeth. Eager green eyes met hers, and he earnestly kissed her hand. Adya fought off a shudder.

‘Ugh!!!!’ she thought, barely keeping her face from showing her disgust.

“Adya.” He sighed her name as his lips finally left her hand.

“Balin,” she said, her posture formal and rigid. She tugged her hand out of his and discreetly tucked both her hands safely behind her back, wiping the one he had kissed on her dress. Balin did not notice. He was too busy staring at Adya’s face.

Balin was seventeen—the same age as Adya—but he was about a foot shorter than she was. He had a thick head of muddy brown hair that fell in waves around his square face. His shoulders were very broad, but he had a tiny waist which made him look odd and disproportionate. Every time Adya saw him, she thought it looked like he was about to tip over from being so top heavy.

“What are you doing in the market?” he asked in the same cheerful tone which he’d used earlier. His eyes were intense and excited as he looked at her. This was obviously a more than pleasant surprise for him.

“Just looking,” she said vaguely as she turned to the nearest stand and began browsing through its merchandise.

“What are you looking for?” Balin asked, his tone still eager. He stepped right up next to her, making sure his face was only inches from hers. Adya slid to her left, pretending something had caught her attention, before she replied.

“Oh, you know.” She held up a necklace, and stared at it intensely. “Things.”

“Well, you know if you need a pot, or kettle, or anything metal, my dad would surely give a discount to such a beautiful woman.”

Adya’s eyes flickered to Balin’s for a moment. He was gazing at her with a dream-like look on his face. She wondered what he must see when he looked at her that made him act this way. Why was he so fascinated with her?

She turned her back to him and grimaced. “That’s so kind.” Balin’s father was one of the many blacksmiths in the city. His work was adequate, but not something Adya would pay a lot of money for anyway.

“Yes. My father knows how much you mean to me.”

This time Adya couldn’t hold back the shudder that shook her frame. ‘Ewww,’ she cried in her mind while shaking her head. ‘Get away, creepy toad!’ She hated it when he talked that way. Of course Adya knew Balin was crazy about her, but the feeling was in no way whatsoever mutual.

When Adya did not reply, Balin began talking, still as cheerful as ever. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“You know. I actually have to go,” she said quickly, turning around and pointing at the large bag on her back. “I have to deliver clothing to the palace.”

“Would you like me to escort you?” His eyes were shining brightly, and he looked eager to spend more time with her.

Adya barely concealed the glower threatening to break through her friendly façade. ‘Take the hint!’ she was screaming at Balin in her mind. ‘I do not want you around!’

“No thank you.”

Balin sighed as he spoke, gloomily. “Alright.” Suddenly his features brightened. “Come visit me again, won’t you?”

‘I did not come here to visit you! Clueless little toad. . .’ she mumbled in her head.

“If I have time,” she replied coldly.

“Goodbye Adya.” He sighed as she hastily made her way through the crowd towards the gem palace. She walked quickly, shoving past people in her haste. After keeping this pace for several minutes she ducked to her right, onto a side street. She knew Balin. Swiftly she peeked back around the corner into the market. There, standing in the middle of the bustling street, was Balin, looking confusedly around. He was following her.

“Balin,” she seethed. He was never going to leave her alone. One time, late at night, she could have sworn she had seen him peeking through their window. He was such a creepy, lovesick little person.

She sighed in anger, and then began walking down the side street. At least he hadn’t seen her escape; she took a little comfort in that. She would just have to take the roundabout way to her destination.

Of course Adya wasn’t going to the palace as she had told Balin. The palace was the very last stop on her list. So, she was going to find Maria. Maria was an old family friend. She was a grandmother-type figure to Adya. Maria was the person Adya’s family had sold to the most when they were allowed to sell at market. She owned a stand on the furthest southern edge of the market and she sold things like clothing, jewelry, and handkerchiefs. This was where Adya would sell Lira’s work.

After walking down the side street for a moment Adya took a left, and doubled back up the next street. Hopefully she wouldn’t see Balin again. Hopefully he would just give up and leave her alone.

It only took her five more minutes of walking to reach her destination: Maria’s stand. Maria was sitting on a stool behind the stand, her white hair sticking out among all the colorful fabric. Her skin was wrinkled and pale, but was soft to the touch as Adya greeted her friend.

“Maria,” she smiled, stooping to kiss the withered woman on the cheek.

“Adya, my dear! What a pleasant surprise!” Maria stood up, her nose at Adya’s shoulder level. She hadn’t always been so short, but the years had worn heavy on Maria, just like they had on many others in the city. “You usually don’t come visit me at the market.”

Maria’s eyes shone as she spoke. Her husband Medan had left a very long time ago: where to, nobody knew. Adya knew that she got lonely so she sometimes went to visit her at her house in the evenings.

“Well, I’m actually not here just to visit,” Adya replied with a sheepish smile, taking the bag off her back. She glanced over her shoulders, making sure nobody was watching and then pulled out the handkerchief. “Lira wanted me to bring this to the market.”

The smile vanished from Maria’s face, but was still glinting in her eyes. “Of course. Lira isn’t one to follow rules, is she?”

Adya rolled her eyes. “No.”

“Why is it you’re delivering today?” Maria asked, taking the handkerchief from Adya, examining it. “Usually it’s Lira that brings me her secret trinkets.” Her eyes left the handkerchief to grin mischievously at Adya.

Adya fixed a look of disapproval on her face, trying not to smile. “I should’ve known she would go to you to trade. No one else would be crazy enough to assist a criminal.”

Maria laughed, handing the handkerchief back to Adya. “No. I suppose not.” Then the smile left her voice and she looked solemnly at Adya. “I’m sorry, my dear. I can’t buy this.”

“Why not?” Maria’s suddenly serious tone made her worry. Maria was a free spirit—a child trapped in an ancient body.

“I just don’t have the money,” she replied, the blatant truth apparent on her face. “I would love to own something so beautiful, but nobody can afford to buy such nice things anymore. Look at my stand,” her hand gestured to the clothing and jewelry cluttering the top, “I haven’t sold one thing all morning. I’ll be lucky if I sell anything all day,” she sighed. “People just can’t afford quality anymore thanks to all the taxes.”

Adya nodded. She knew it was true. The King made sure he would be the only one with anything of quality; not that he ever paid for it. He taxed all the cities in Alastair forty percent; forty percent of their crops, goods they made, money . . . everything. It was ridiculous.

“I don’t know how people can even stay in business.” Maria said, sitting back down on her stool. “For every ten shirts I sell, almost half of what I make goes to the King. It’s like taking one step forward and two steps back. We can never get ahead.”

“I think that might be the point,” Adya said with malice. “The King doesn’t want people to get ahead. He wants to control them.” Her hand automatically rose and ran soothingly through her hair as she remembered the King controlling her.

Maria nodded dejectedly. “I think you’re right, my dear.”

For a moment, the two just listened to the bustle of the market. Adya’s dream had come back to her with vivid clarity when she mentioned the King. Her throat felt dry, and tears began to brim in her eyes. She could see the King’s face as clearly as if he were standing in front of her. She remembered the cruel tone in his voice as he ordered his soldiers to take her father away and she remembered him slapping her, but most of all she remembered his eyes—the wicked, greedy glint that never left them. But something that she never forgot, something that always ate away at the back of her mind was his statement. ‘I will have you.’

Adya trembled. She heard those words with like thunder every time she awoke and every time she went to sleep. Every day she grew older to eighteen, the age when most girls in the city married, also the age when the King could legally take her. It was his right to have any woman he wanted.

“How is Nadia?” Maria asked, pulling Adya from her reverie. “How is your mother?”

Adya blinked a couple of times and tried to smile. “She’s doing well. She just spends her time worrying about us.”

“Oh yes. You’re nearly to the marrying age, aren’t you my dear?” Maria’s physiognomy lightened. To her, marriage was a happy subject.

“Yes. I am. This spring,” she quietly replied. Her voice sounded distant and detached in her ear. It was so soon.

“So, is there a special young man?”

Adya smiled at Maria’s inflection. “No. Not yet.”

“You’ll find someone my dear. You’re very beautiful. You know, I think every boy in this city is smitten with you.”

Adya just shrugged. She did not like talking about this. Everybody told her she was beautiful, and of course, she noticed how the boys acted around her. But marriage was a delicate subject with Adya. On the one hand, marriage was the only thing that could stop the King from taking her. It was written in the law, married women were off limits. But marrying somebody she did not love, or even like, wasn’t an appealing option either.

“How is Lira fairing?” Maria asked after another moment of silence. She spoke the words delicately, as if they might break when they left her mouth.

“I’m not sure,” Adya replied truthfully. “Lira doesn’t like to talk about it.” Lira was nearly nineteen and hadn’t gotten as much as a proposal.

Maria just nodded, understanding. Then she looked up at the sky. “The sun is getting high. You should probably go deliver those clothes.”

Adya looked up, and saw that Maria was right. If she did not take them soon, she would be late. “Yes. I should. Well, thank you Maria,” she said, placing the handkerchief back in her sack. “Goodbye.” She smiled at the old woman and then turned away, walking in the direction of the palace.

“Goodbye Adya, my dear.” She heard the faint reply carry on the cool breeze.