Media: Elijah Khavarosk

Music of the chapter: Shadow fall, Audiomachine

The Predikar said that the Underlands were nothing but a wide stretch of emptiness frozen to the point of burning. Cadence felt as though as she had been thrown into the Ithesa, the river of no return, forced to swim through the burning waters in search of the Twelve Gates in order to reach Orisha Valador, Lord of the Dead.

Cadence was shrouded with a burning cold, the kind that bit into the skin and tore it out, chunk by bloody chunk. She couldn't even shiver, every muscle of hers were locked dead. She could only cry out in silence as the cold dissolved her.

There was a sudden burst of light. Rich colors of gold and white fluttered before Cadence's eyes. Just like a forgotten nightmare, the pain vanished. She lifted her hands, trying to touch the light, but they flowed through her fingers. It was like catching mist, fruitless.

Cadence watched as the interior of a grand chamber unfolded before her eyes. Smooth marble tiles extended themselves from a far off corner and rolled into flat ground under her feet. A large bed sprung out of nowhere. Curtains dyed a deep shade of scarlet dropped down from the windows where a salty breeze sailed lazily through.

What the hell?

A woman in a silken dress materialized before her. Cadence had never seen her before in her entire life. This woman looked far beyond Cadence's league, given her heavy dress, heavy golden hair studded with enormous diamond pins, and enough rings on her fingers to choke them all. She must belong to one of the richest Houses.

The woman turned to face Cadence. Cadence jumped, partly by her sudden motion and the blueness of her eyes.

"Hi," Cadence croaked, glancing around the unfamiliar room, overwhelmed by the richness and luxury. "Where am I?"

The woman said nothing, but she looked to the mirror behind Cadence. It was as if Cadence was transparent, like a ghost. However, it wasn't the realization that Cadence might be a ghost that shocked her, but the tears glimmering in the woman's eyes. The woman sat on the bed, moving her hands over her belly.

Her belly was heavily swollen. Cadence could tell she was close to delivering, she had seen plenty of pregnant women when she worked in the Orelik mansion. The servants, especially the women whom Master Orelik and his friends used as pleasure ladies, fell pregnant after the acts, and they had to deliver in the dirty kitchens where no one could hear them scream. Those poor women had to hide their swollen stomachs under rags, giving them the impression that they had grown fatter, not pregnant, for only the Orishas knew what would be done to bastards. The wives of the Masters would torture the poor girls in imaginable ways, eventually killing them.

The chamber doors creaked as it opened, and a hawkish-looking man stepped into the light.

The moment the man came into the room, the woman hurriedly wiped the tears from her cheeks, took in a shaky breath and smiled.

"How are you feeling, my dear?"

He made simple words sound eloquent with his deep, baritone voice. He was the epitome of noblemen—regal, powerful, emotionless.

The woman nodded, yet she made no move toward the man. The man took a seat next to the woman, sliding this hands over the woman's shoulders, drawing her close to him.

The woman shuddered. It was very slight, so the man didn't notice it, but Cadence did.

"The second one," the man said. "The Orishas have blessed us. If this child turns out to be a boy, think of how strong our bloodline would be."

"I want the baby to be a girl," the woman said, not looking at her husband. "I want a baby who can be like me, someone who can understand that the world is an unfriendly place. Maybe she can do something about it when I am powerless to do so."

There was a steely fire in the woman's eyes. It was faint, but nonetheless there, simmering and keeping low, waiting for the right moment to ignite. It was the look of a defiant person, someone with enough courage to challenge the more powerful, and not bend to the cruel world.

The man sighed. He held the woman's hand in his, stroking it lightly. The woman turned her head away, so she was facing Cadence. Cadence could see the evident disgust in the woman's face, the single tear that slid free from her eyes and dropped onto the quilt.

"My dear, we've been through this. What our parents did is for the greater good. It has been a long time since both Regions are living together in harmony, and it all because of us. I may not have known you until the day my father announced the betrothal, but know that I love you with all my heart."

"I know that," the woman said. "That's what I've been telling myself everyday for the past two years."

A strong hand suddenly yanked Cadence's backward. Shocked, she tried to scream, but the same hand clamped around her mouth. More hands attacked her, crawling over her body, pulling her until she was falling into a deep abyss.

She heard someone cry in the distance—a pitiful, desperate, full-throated cry.

Arielle, Arielle!

Thud.

Cadence woke up to Misha breathing down her neck, literally.

"She lives!" she hollered.

"Get off her, she needs to breathe." Arik's voice pierced through the haze of sleepiness.

She ran a hand through her dismally tangled hair. The last thing she remembered was Ales walking out of the infirmary.

The man in the tavern, the pain in their stomach. The Healer. Ales.

"Thank you so much for not tattling on us, Cadence," Arik said. "I should have been more observant, who knew there would someone who tried to assault the Patrols?"

"Don't blame yourself." Cadence sat up. The pain was gone, just like that. For some reason, she felt refreshed, as if she had been born again. "It was someone who had a personal grudge against Ales."

"We saw you faint," Misha said. "Then he carried you back. Is he going to report you to Mistress Valeriya? The High Priestess can be really nasty if she wants to be. You just haven't met her yet."

"I don't know," Cadence said truthfully. "I asked, but he never replied."

Arik let out an impressive sigh, a sigh that Cadence felt had been pressing on him ever since last night, and now it could finally be released.

"I'm sorry for dragging you onto the Tradition. I know you didn't want to, but I thought it would be fun, you know? A Murka needs Murka friends, we're the only ones we can trust. It's a Varya world out there, and we need every last Murka friend we can get."

"No." Cadence looked at Arik. "I wanted to go. Thank you for asking me to be part of it."

"We kinda blew it though," Arik said. "We were almost caught."

"I was," said Cadence. "Not the rest of you."

"At your expense." Arik looked angry at himself.

A door banged shut behind them. Kashimi glided out of the curtains with a boy with ruddy curls. Cadence frowned. Was that...Elijah Khavarosk?

Elijah and Cadence locked eyes for a second, then he dipped his head and hurried out of the infirmary.

What's he doing here with Kashimi? Is he sick?

Kashimi glided up to her bedside and addressed her friends with a slight bow. "I'm afraid I will have to ask you two to leave, the infirmary isn't meant for raised voices and conversations. It's a sanctuary for the sick and the wounded."

"We'll keep it down," Arik apologized.

Kashimi shook his head and directed a slim hand at the doors. "If you will take your leave?"

"We'll see you when you're back." Arik squeezed Cadence's hand. "Get well soon."

"Your friends are a peculiar bunch," Kashimi remarked, watching Arik and the twins disappear behind the wooden doors.

"Well, says the one who wears a scary mask," Cadence defended her friends.

"The mask?" Kashimi laughed. "Oftentimes the masks are misleading. Patrols, Healers and Invokers all hide behind a wall which they want others to believe, so they can be stronger, braver, faster. If I take off this mask, you will be quite surprised."

"Why don't you take it off then?" Cadence challenged him. She had no resentment toward the Healer, but she wanted to know how he reacted to her questions.

Kashimi touched his mask with his long, slender fingers. "The mask is a part of me now, I'm afraid," he said. "A dedicated Healer would not waste time on physical looks, but rather on their handiwork, and their sworn, holy vow to serve the sick. Or maybe, I just want to put my past behind his new face, and let time wash away the stains."

The Healer gently took Cadence's wrist. "Let's see how you're doing today."

He applied pressure on Cadence's pulse with two fingers, then cocked his head to the side.

"Curious," he said. "Very curious."

"What's curious?" Cadence asked. "Am I fine?"

"To say you're healthy is an understatement." Kashimi tucked Cadence's hand back under the sheet. "You can leave the infirmary now if you want. What caused your miraculous recovery, I cannot say. It might be the will of the Orishas."

"I can leave?"

"Yes." Kashimi gestured at the exit. "I shall inform Ales of your recovery."

Cadence hopped off the bed at once. She had never felt better. Inexplicably, her aches were gone, even her spirits felt lifted.

She ran straight at the door, excited to get back to the common room and her friends.

"Do take a shower, though." If Cadence could see Kashimi's face, he probably would be crinkling his nose, which Cadence assumed was as bony and tall like the rest of the Healer's body. "You stink."

*****

A/N

Here's a huge hug to all who have accompanied this story so far! *MASSIVE HUGS* Because of your support, I really look forward to my update days ( Tuesdays and Fridays with alternate Sundays; y'all got the 3 updates!) and reading your comments. You're all amazing and I'm glad to have readers like you.

Hugs,

Stef