Before the Scions came to deliver their proclamation, when Odella had no mark and the Crest family was only known for their hardworking nature, Ash could traverse the village marketplace with only the occasional greeting. Sometimes the better-off villagers would offer her an apple as gratitude for all the help her father provided.

But at the end of the day, she had been a Lumena Village resident, and it had not gone farther than that.

Now eyes always followed her.

At first, everyone had watched her with a sort of wonder and awe, and the brave ones who approached asked about her sister, about what this meant for the world. Ash had reveled in being the one to deliver the news. She had never seen herself to be one to long for attention, and even then, it hadn't been some intense desire fulfilled. It had just felt good.

Over time, just as it was wearing at Ash, people stopped coming up to her. Odella's Dreamwoven status was never forgotten, but its novelty faded, and the Crest family settled on the same level as a well-off family. Respected, curious gazes that lingered too long, slight reverence, but they were never treated as if they were nobility.

Now that word on Odella—or lack of word—had reached the village, though, the stares returned in full force. Many were weary, scared, with a dash of hope that this Crest family member would deliver good news. Others, though, were suspicious, critical, perhaps somehow finding signs on Ash that she had been around Odella. The other day, one desperate villager had demanded to see the spot over her heart, certain that Ash was secretly Odella hiding away from her duty.

Ash forced her own eyes to stay forward as she moved through Lumena Village's market, but she couldn't escape the slight prickle that let her know she was still being watched. She may have been able to ignore them if not for the guilt gnawing at her insides.

She knew the answer that these people craved—Odella was alive, and she was near, but their savior was lost.

Gulping past the tightness in her throat, Ash straightened, trying to find the booth she'd set out for today. She'd worried that getting away would be hard, but it hadn't been. Yesterday's explosion must have been weighing on her parents' shoulders because they didn't hesitate to lose her assistance for that day. All they asked was that she bring back food for the week.

She would do that, but first, she had to find what she needed.

She found Edina Talcott near the corner of Market Square furthest from the residential area. Ash should have figured, as that was a less desirable spot. Edina wasn't hated by any means, but she was a collector and seller of something of little importance to most of the villagers: books.

Ash herself shrugged at Edina's wares most days. They served her little, and although she could read, it wasn't well, and it left her with a headache after long sessions.

But she didn't know where else to get the information she needed, so she stiffened her spine and walked up to Edina's booth. Though, if she were honest, booth was too kind a descriptor. Edina had a make-shift canopy made with sticks and a mismatched blanket to keep back the sun, a wooden stool, and a large cart she could wheel around filled with books.

Many villagers—Ash's own mother included—scoffed and dismissed Edina as crazy, driven to madness when her husband and son died on a fishing voyage. Sometimes Ash agreed, but other times, she wondered if they just deemed her as such because Edina managed to find contentment in her dreary life.

At Ash's approach, the middle-aged woman looked up. Her eyes sparkled as a kind smile spread across her face. "Why, hello, Ashlin. What can I do for you today?"

Ash smiled back, though pixies danced in her stomach. She was fine. There was nothing suspicious about looking for a book. "Sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if you had any books that spoke of the Dreamwoven and their relationship with the gods. I know Lord Farley has one filled with different quests of the Dreamwoven. Anything like that, really, I would love to see."

"Ah." The spark in Edina's eyes dimmed, and her expression grew sad. "For your sister?"

Ash's throat dried. "What?"

Edina blinked, as if confused, and for a sickening, illogical moment, Ash wondered if the woman really did know about Odella being home. Would either of her parents have confided in this potentially unhinged lady?

"Everyone in the town talks about how there has not been news of a sighting of her in multiple lunes now," she said. She reached out suddenly, taking a firm grip of Ash's hand. "But I am like you. I believe she is still out there. The gods would not leave their chosen unprotected."

Some of the tension left Ash, but not all of it. Not when she'd seen firsthand how the gods protected their chosen.

"Thank you. My family and I appreciate your concern and faith." Pulling her hand away, Ash attempted a smile, but it couldn't have been convincing. Her face felt like it was moments from cracking, leaving the fragments of her mask falling around her. She swallowed. "A book, Miss Edina?"

If Edina noticed anything odd about Ash, she said nothing about it. Instead, she rapped her knuckles against her temple. "Yes, yes. Sorry about that. Lost in thought easily at my age. Yes, let me just..."

While Edina riffled through her collection, Ash edged back. Not very far, but enough that she had the space to breathe. She should have waited. Her emotions were too frayed from the previous day, and all the guilt continued to tug at those loose strings. Ash had praised Edina's faith, but it left her sick.

Sick from guilt at her lies. Sick from anger at the gods. She was a liar. She was a blasphemer. Her lungs squeezed, as if the gods intended to choke her there for all she had done.

She didn't realize she'd begun looking around until her eyes met his.

The man stood a few stalls away, a wooden doll in his hand but completely ignored. Dark eyes stared out from a handsome face that was somehow all sharp edges and gentle curves at once. With the beginnings of a small beard on his jaw, he could have already passed into manhood, but a youthful shine gave him the appearance of a boy. A small coating of dust darkened his plain garb and fair skin, the only potential roughness to offset his ethereal appearance.

And crowning all of him was a long mane of golden blond hair done in a neat, twisting braid that pulled only from the left side of his hair, leaving the right much fuller. Vines twined through his hair as naturally as if they had grown there.

This man was not from the village, of that she was sure. She could not have forgotten seeing someone like him. Yet somehow, as their gazes continued to meet, she realized recognition lit those beautiful green eyes.

Then, his mouth moved, and the spell shattered. She couldn't hear his whisper but still knew what he'd said.

Odella.

There existed artists so talented in their art that they could perfectly capture a person and put them on canvas. Most of these artists were commissioned by the nobles and royals of Somniox. Many Dreamwoven of legend had been recreated by such artists, but as a beginning champion yet to have succeeded in her quest, Odella was not one of them. All her renditions were by smaller artists and not as accurate, meaning it would be difficult for anyone to recognize Odella purely by a poster or painting alone.

But this man knew her. That gleam in his eyes wasn't the off-chance guess of the faithful finding their divine hero.

Her heart beat loudly enough to thunder in her ears. Excitement mixed with a gut-churning fear. He may have been close to Odella, enough so that he knew where she came from. Such a connection to her sister's mysterious past should have been a blessing from the gods.

But Odella's frenzied terror during her worst moments came back to Ash, forever branded into her heart from the pain they caused. Something had done that. Would this man know? Could he be the very cause?

Then her own thoughts from the night before came back to her, and she set her jaw. She would not be afraid, not when she couldn't fail Odella a second time.

"Aha! There it is!"

Ash almost screamed at Edina's triumphant shout. The elderly lady hopped up from her hunched position, book in hand, beaming from ear to ear.

"Sorry it took me so long, dearie. This one was a real rascal, hiding in the darkest depths of my collection." She tsk-ed at the book like it was a living being and had any power in where it had been located. "Here you are! If it is what you're wanting, that'll be three numias!"

Ash internally winced. Three numias was half the price of grain, and they needed every coin they could get. If Mother or Father knew she was spending this kind of money on something so "unnecessary," they'd sacrifice her to the gods in the hope it would lessen their burdens. Well, not really. She hoped.

Taking the book from Edina's hands, Ash examined it. Worn black leather encased the book. Tales and Legends of the Dreamwoven, the title stated in looping silver text. Starbursts decorated the empty edges of the cover, with a glittering Dreamweave mark taking up the center.

If she had more time, she would have perused the book, see if it had the sort of details she may need. She couldn't turn away from Edina to search for the man again, though, not when she didn't want others paying him too much notice.

This book was older, its pages even turning yellow, but maybe that was exactly what she needed. Fishing a few numias from the pocket in her dress, she handed over her payment.

Edina took Ash's hand in both of hers before she could pull back. "I pray that when the gods see you and yours in their Dreams, they see only greatness."

Ash managed to force a small smile. "Thank you, Edina. Now, I must really be going."

"Of course. Sorry for keeping you a moment longer." Edina returned to her books. She hummed softly to herself, and with how quickly she went back to her peaceful state, one would never know she'd just had a customer.

Trying not to appear too hurried, Ash turned back toward the wooden toys stand where the man had been. Her heart fell.

He was nowhere to be seen.

Ash bit back a curse. She shouldn't have gotten distracted, but what else was she to do? She didn't want to draw any attention, which ignoring Edina and rushing to the man would definitely have done.

Holding the book to her chest, Ash tapped her fingers along its spine as she worried at her lower lip. She took slow steps through the market, eyes roaming over every person she passed.

Did she scour the village for this man? Or did she put all her focus into the book, hoping it would offer the piece to this disastrous puzzle?

"Hey, watch where you're going!"

Almost as one, the mass of villagers turned to face the disturbance. A small opening had formed, just large enough to indicate that it wasn't a natural break in the market day movement. Bert, one of the town's burly woodchoppers, held his daughter by the shoulders, righting her. He settled his glare on a cloaked individual, but they weren't paying Bert any attention.

Instead, they were turned so they faced the surrounding crowd. A chill crept up Ash's spine. The cloak's hood cast enough shadow that she couldn't see the person's eyes, but she had the uncanny sense that they were on her.

"I'm talking to you! You almost knocked over my daughter," Bert growled, yanking the cloaked person around by their shoulder.

Ash spun away as well and walked away as quickly as she could within the throng of people. "Excuse me, excuse me," she murmured. If anyone said anything, it was lost to her. All she could hear was the hammering of her heartbeat.

Two outsiders—at least she assumed the cloaked figure was an outsider—watching her in one day? Did they both think she was Odella? Glorious Twelve above, what did this all mean? Her mind spun. She would get back to Mother and Father. They would know what to do.

Please, she pleaded to whichever god was listening. Please, don't let this mean danger for Odella.

Ash broke from the shopping crowd and picked up her pace. Despite her attempts, she couldn't stop herself from a small peak back the way she'd come.

Then arms wrapped around her, dragging her into an alley she hadn't paid attention to as she passed. She gasped, the air smothered back against her by a hand clamping to her mouth.

Whoever had grabbed her pressed her up against a solid chest. A man, then. He leaned down, his hair and breath tickling the side of her neck, and whispered his command.

"Don't scream, and don't fight against me."

*****

Welp, looks like Ash may have gotten herself into a pickle.  Ever just go out to the book store, see a bunch of strangers, and then suddenly get yoinked into an ally way?  Yeah, me too V_V But hey, she got the book she wanted, and isn't that all that matters?

Let me know your thoughts on the chapter down below, and if you enjoyed it, don't forget to vote and comment! I also have a discord open to anyone who wants to join, and we have a section there to discuss the book :D Let me know if you want to join!