Days passed in the same manner as the previous ones. Arvun would send his lachey to tell them that he was still indisposed, and after a brief session of grunts and scowls with K'alhon, they would explore Caral. Five sun's had risen, and five sun's had set since they arrived in Caral. Corvin leaned against the window and watched as the celebration slowly died down with each passing moment. The moon rose, and the city of Caral went dead silent. Not even a trace of joyfulness they've experienced or the people roaming the streets. Once again, everything returned to its usual order. Everyone knew their place where they belonged, and there was no escape. Except death. The only absolute relief was that they could only seek refuge and escape their condition in the arms of death. Iris was deep asleep curled up the bed as she had been for the past five days, while he could hear in the distance, late at night soft steps treading along the corridors. So faint, barely audible. The untouchables, the unseen, the undesirables. One of the lowest castes in Oros. They only worked out of sight. It was the mark of the caste they belonged to. Everyone knew they existed, but they were such a rare sight that there were no accurate accounts of their appearance. There were speculations that they were malformed and disfigured. Therefore, they either liked to keep out of sight, or they were kept from being seen in the daylight.
Whatever the reason was, they were condemned to live in the shadows for the rest of their lives.
Iris groaned and shuffled in her sleep. The whispers were incessant, but somehow, she managed to keep sane longer than he thought she would.
She conceded after he'd nagged her one night and focused, trying to understand what they were saying. Look, one small voice said, and she opened her eyes only to find him in front of her. She wasn't very pleased with the result and went to sleep.
Sleep was evading him for the first time in a long time. He'd never had trouble going to sleep, but he could feel it; something wasn't right. The nagging thought at the back of his head wasn't leaving him alone. They had to survive Oros. He had no intention of making any concessions.
More whimpering and more rustling from Iris caught his attention. She was more restless than usual. She pushed herself on the bed and stared at the corner of the room, ashen. She was already as pale as death itself, but the days spent under the sun had brought some colour which had vanished.
" The harbingers of death," She breathed out the words, wide-eyed trembling. It was bad.
" They are pointing at us," Not good. And he had his confirmation. They would be dead before the sun would even rise properly.
" Are you sure?" One pointed look in his direction was answer enough.
" We need to make a plan. If you are right," He took a deep breath when Iris frowned at him. There was no if," Never mind," He amended and sat on the bed next to her while she still pined the wall with her gaze.
" How do you even see them?" Nobody could see the harbingers. Except for the gifted ones.
" I don't know." She peeled her eyes off the wall and looked at her hand fisting the sheets.
" Before you jump at my throat," Corvin chuckled," Remember, it's just a thought. What if your magic is something different from what you possessed before? " He covered his neck just to be on the safe side. Judging from the murderous look in her eyes, it was a wise decision to do so.
Pondering, she shuffled to the edge of the bed and sighed, despondent. She probably had considered it as well. But she'd had made it clear that she didn't want the gift that it was given. Nothing came without a cost, and if she would make use of it...
He stopped himself there before his thoughts would turn darker and murkier.
" Only if it is absolutely necessary," She raised her head, stressing the word necessary.
Nodding, Corvin lowered himself on the bed and looked in the same corner she'd been staring at earlier. There was nothing.
The whispers, then they must be from those who hadn't found their way into the great beyond. Words of old and new. Voices are both young and old. Woman, man and child. All at once.
Nothing else made sense. A warning. They probably got more fervent as they needed their death. Trying to warn whoever was listening.
" It's not my time yet," She said as she placed a knee on the bed and looked at him, a little worried.
" Three moons ago, you would have jumped at the chance," He quipped but wiped the smile off his face when she grunted, exasperated with his jonesing.
Rolling her eyes, she turned her back to him once more and propped her chin in the palm of her hands, staring at the door. There was no point trying to escape. L'atil would nabb them before they would even make it past the front gate.
" There is a reason why he'd waited for so long. My guess is that he would do it in front of the K'arali Court. Just to send a message to those opposing his rule. I'm guessing that there is some inner turmoil, and he is most definitely using us to settle it." Corvin put forward his thoughts. And he was probably right.
Simele was a time of celebration. Sacred to the Orians. So he waited, biding his time. And they sat there and followed the path just as those sacrificial drossas followed their master up the ziggurat ramp.