The weather was cold.
Astraea felt herself shiver as she tightened her scarf around her neck to seal the warmth for her exposed skin. She fiddled with her gloves as she stared at the shop window that displayed various trinkets and funny looking gadgets that would elicit anyone's curiosity.
She could see her reflection on the window, eyes with slight dark circles under them indicating she had not slept well. Her dull black hair seemed greasy and unwashed for weeks and her cheeks seemed rounder and not in a healthy way. She lets out a long suffering sigh.
Steeling herself, she walked towards the entrance of the shop and looked around, momentarily distracted by the various machinery and wonders displayed on the shelves before a baritone voice rasps.
"Ah, you're back again," says the shopkeeper with a blank look as if he expected her. She grimaces slightly at the tone before plastering a wobbly smile.
"Well," she says, "I suppose one must never stop till they have tried you know!"
He fixes her a look that told her he was getting tired of her shenanigans, "What is it this time?"
She shuffles from one foot to another, blowing off a strand of her hair from her face and fiddled with the gloves covering her fingers, "I…may have broken the sphere again…"
He raises an eyebrow. "The one that was supposed to be the moving model of the fifth star system from the nether realm?" she continues in a hesitant tone.
She could feel his resolve cracking with every twitch of his eyebrow, "Coran I–"
"How in the devil did you break that? That was reinforced with tungsten! I had welded it using the old mage's forging techniques and yet ye still broke it?" his face was contorted with incredulity and exasperation.
"Not broke it!" she cries indignantly, "Just…not working?"
"That was the fifth time you broke it this week."
"I don't do it on purpose!"
The elder simply waves off her protests and let out a heavy sigh, "It's alright. I'll replace it. Again. Only this time I expect payment; I can't keep giving things away for free, customer service be darned."
She grimaces before nodding, "How much?"
"150 currents."
"My purse will never recover from this old man."
"Who the hell are you calling old you ungrateful brat?"
She offers a placating smile as she slapped the money on the table. The man stares at the money for a moment before taking half of the amount with a low muttering. "Give me an half an hour. It's not as bad as last time."
Beaming, she nods vigorously, "I'll be outside for awhile. I have some shopping to do anyway."
He gives her a contemplative look. "What is it?"
"Nothing much," he says with a shake of his head, "I suppose as the craftsman I'm quite curious as to why you want this model so much, even if you do keep breaking it."
Astraea blinks slowly before answering him with a shrug, "It will help me. For my new project. It's something valuable to me, even if its original use is still undiscovered."
"You're an author," he says rhetorically.
"I know."
With a polite nod she walks outside, taking in the grey skies and the humid air that clung onto the bare skin of her face signifying rain was approaching. Of course there would be more rain during the autumn. The monsoon in the city of Earnest was rather cold, almost as cold as the winter and the skies would be blotched in various shades of grey with the addition of wet surfaces and the smell of damp metal in the streets.
Not that she minded. It was peaceful in its own way.
Astraea wandered through the streets to the local library that stood a few blocks away from the workshop. Amber light flowed from one of the glass door with a neat sign saying 'Open'. She felt the corners of her mouth lift.
The library smelled of wood and fresh parchment, the best smell in the world to her. The massive dark wooden shelves filled various books of interesting titles to meet the eye. There were tables paired with chairs, the furniture the same shade of brown as the shelves, which were sparsely decorated. The establishment itself was small and humble, run by an elderly man with a head full of long grey hair with a grey beard to match and a pair of wise brown eyes. He never spoke much except for a nod here and a few baritone words telling where to find things.
She caught the old man's eye and greeted, "Good evening!"
He merely nods before going back to rearranging a pile of books. She takes this as the initiative to go and look through the shelves. The different titles were calling out to her; she simply couldn't decide which one to pick. Then a particular title finally catches her eye – The Fall of Jericho: True or False?
This makes her intrigued. Truthfully, over the past couple of years she had been having strange dreams that seemed to recur of a particular incident that leaves her mind blank unable to remember what they were or what they meant. But one word kept repeating over and over in her mind: Jericho.
Of course she knew what exactly that was; Jericho was the wall surrounding the city of Earnest protecting it from the other cities protecting them from the civil that lay beyond. The war had been going on for over fifty years and the wall had been built then to protect the city. It had been a guttural and bloody affair but the previous Queen erected the wall through her Gift and the wall has been unbroken since; impenetrable and sturdy since the first day it had been erected.
To believe the wall would ever break was a fantasy concept but never impossible. In fact many of the civilians stayed away from it from the fear despite the public reassurance. Underneath the smiles and happy gestures there was a lingering fear of the wall coming apart within everyone's demeanor. There had been something unpleasant pricking at the back of her neck for the past couple of years at the mere mention of the wall and she could tell she wasn't the only one who felt that way.
"Or maybe I'm finally going senile," she thinks absently as she grabbed the hard cover book protected with a black cover with red inscription of the cover, "Turning thirty one and I'm already sounding like those old ladies in the gossip houses."
Perhaps that's why she had been hoarding various ancient trinkets and books related to the wall and the studies of nether realms and binding spells like a possessed maniac. It went beyond the boundaries of curiosity.
But she couldn't ignore that pull within her chest and mind that was like a siren's song; whispering and telling her – find it. Find more. Find the truth.
But…what truth?
Letting out a soft sigh she tunes out her thoughts and focuses on the book in front of her, the yellowing pages greeting her along with the dark bold letters of the chapter title.
'Could there be a dark secret to the protector of our lands?"
The birth of Jericho can be considered the highlight of the history of Earnest – the capital city of Brilansis. The walls had been erected half a century ago by the First Lady, Queen Rhea who governed the country from Earnest with her wife Circe. Eventually now the duty to guard that wall has befallen on the current King Aster with his Wife Ruth. But how far does this duty really go?
Jericho's creation was not just a shield for many people but also the catalyst to a series of events that played an important part in the civil war that began fifty years ago…
Minutes turned into hours before Astraea realized she was ten minutes late after being absorbed by the novel for the past thirty minutes. She looked at the grandfather clock in panic before moving her feet (yes, she stood for an entire half an hour reading till her feet were numb) and rushed to the front desk where the keeper was now reading the newspaper. He lifted his head to eye her with interest.
"May I borrow this book please?" she asks breathlessly.
He looks at her for a moment with an unreadable look before he hums with a nod in affirmation. She thanks him heavily before exiting the shop and speed walking along the boulevard towards the workshop. As she walked she could hear the radio playing nearby.
"…citizens are advised to keep an eye for the fugitive. They are armed and dangerous and must be reported to the respective authorities immediately if ever spotted. Please remain alert."
"How awful," says one woman as she passed by with a pitying look on her face. Astraea pauses and turns to the woman who seemed to be about thirty or more.
"What is awful? What is happening?" she asks out of curiosity. The lady looks at her, slightly startled.
"Ah, haven't you heard the news?"
Astraea tilts her head in confusion, "No?"
The woman huffs, "There is a fugitive on the loose, girl. An escapee from the prison camps outside the Jericho."
This seizes her attention, "Outside Jericho?"
"Yes."
"Oh? How is that possible? I thought the walls were impenetrable and no one can get in or out. The war along with the colonies is supposed to be outside the wall."
"Now that would be a little farfetched." Astraea frowns in confusion as the woman continued, "There is obviously a system to get in and out of the wall, else how was the King supposed to send new troops outside every month?"
Astraea feels off, "They…send new people every month?"
"Yes, the Gifted ones. They're the only one capable of the job." The woman looks at her with a sympathetic look, "Don't worry, of course you would not know. You are not a Gifted, much less a registered one by the state. That is alright. Only few are aware of these."
"So…how do you know?" Astraea asks. The woman gives a small sad smile, "My son was a Gifted. He was drafted and send not too long go."
She looks at the woman, then diverted her gaze towards the horizon where the great walls of Jericho was said to be located. She could feel a cold sensation on the back of neck with an odd feeling settling in her gut. Nostalgia? Empathy? She couldn't tell.
The woman looks at her pocket watch with a surprised look, "Oh dear, half past six. I must be going. I hope you have a good night and do keep safe." She tips her dainty hat towards her in a polite fashion before walking away, green gown fluttering with every step, leaving Astraea to ponder over her words as she resumed her journey.
Shaking her head slightly to clear her head she trudged along and reentered the workshop where the red haired keeper was tinkering with a strange looking device that resembled a moth with delicate gold wings. He looks up to see her enter and gave a grunt in greeting before pointing towards the newly fixed sphere.
"Be careful with that next time," he says with a pointed look, "the Protoschastic Sphere cannot take a second time. The rings are particularly delicate and more sophisticated than they look."
"The what?" she asks with a confused frown. The man in raises an eyebrow in return, "The Protoschastic Sphere; long invented by the First Philosopher. You didn't know?"
"No…?"
He looks at her carefully, "I don't know if I'm overstepping anything but if I recall correctly, only six of these spheres exist and they were used only by philosophers or men of science. Rumors say they were even used by higher ups in the Jaegers for navigation. You didn't think this was used for star systems alone did you?"
"I…" Astraea looked at him with helpless confusion, "I was…not aware."
"Hmm. Perhaps, but it is a curious matter on how you came to even obtain something like this. These are indecipherable to all but an experienced man." He looks between her and the sphere before letting out a heavy sigh, "Well, it's alright. I won't ask further. Just don't break it again. It's valuable."
She presses her lips together and nods resolutely as she approached to the table where the mechanical sphere lay. The bit of information she just received would prove invaluable.
Giving her thanks she carefully pockets the palm-sized sphere and walks out of the workshop with a new uneasiness wrestling in her mind. She thumbs the lapis lazuli stone of her necklace as she walks.
The journey home wasn't a very grand or memorable one, at this point it was all muscle memory. Astraea boarded the train and took the seat beside the window, her favorite spot in the train, and watched the moving scenery before her. The last rays of white sunlight were fading bruising the sky as it darkened but it was muted due to the oncoming rain clouds; it will rain again. By now most of the city lights had come to life, glowing amber in the approaching night. It was cold and the air was damp with the soft drizzle of rain that had begun thirty minutes into the journey.
Astraea stared into the cloudy dull colored sky, chin propped on her palm and a thousand questions in mind. If she looked hard enough, she could see the faint obsidian outline of Jericho at the distant horizon, considering the village area was located somewhat near the perimeter but a safe distance away. During the day it was easier to see the slim black outline far out, signifying its existence.
'Could the wall possibly fall?' she thinks to herself, entertaining a thousand possibilities.
Even the greatest landmarks weren't destined to be eternal. Like any empire it is bound to come apart, the book had said. Albeit it may not sound sane or positive, who's to say it wouldn't happen?
Two hours later she finds herself reaching the final station to the village of Evergreen. She got off the train and took a horse drawn cab towards her modest cottage that was located in the hilly area a bit far from the populace. It was secluded and filled with greenery which was perfect for her. She couldn't stand loud noises and thick scents as that of in populated areas.
Paying the fee she got off and walked the rest of the way, up a small hill where the cottage stood with lovely vines filled with sweet white orchids growing from one side of the wall. The sturdy maple tree near the garden seemed to wave hello to her.
The rain was starting to fall a little heavier as she stepped onto the wooden veranda of her home. Astraea felt her body shiver in content and slight excitement at the prospect of rain. How she loved the rain!
By the time the clock had struck eight, she had washed and changed into a white night gown and loosely braided her hair, finished her dinner and got back into her study where she had propped up the newly fixed Protoschastic Sphere (according to Coran) on her desk and a few papers and books scattered around the surface.
Sitting on her stool she set to work, spinning the delicate arms interlocking to form the spherical shape of the device. There were certain inscriptions, small and indecipherable, in scripted on the arms. She couldn't understand what they meant.
Along with that where were little spherical shapes dotted, hovering within the cage like sphere in certain locations and a vast map of constellations at the bottom painted on stand of the sphere. She gently turned one of the rings of the sphere causing a small chain reaction of each other ring turn and interlock with each other in a different direction and the spheres within shifting to new positions within. Some glowed a faint gold, but a few had glowed silver with two particular orbs that glowed; one in red and one in blue. With the new shift positions she watched as the red orb inch closer and closer to the blue one slowly before halting right beside it. This puzzled her.
Astraea pouted as irritation licked her veins making her head ache more. She considered throwing the thing across the room again but she figured Coran would not be generous the next time. Something about the device always made her head ache badly when she tried to read it.
Sometimes she could hear a voice in the back of her head, very faint but strangely familiar.
'Do you want to watch to watch the stars together again?'
'Hey! Look, I can spot the constellation Draconis in this! Maybe I could even spy on –'
Astraea groaned as her head throbbed again, the skull splitting migraine approaching once more. It made the back of her eyes feel heavier and the back of her head ache as if someone was hammering a nail into her skull. This time she can hear a new voice, completely different yet still familiar in some ways.
'Mn, you are very talented.'
'You cannot help everyone. This is my burden'
'Am I..boring?'
She immediately stood, the dizziness washing over her as she rushed to the kitchen and grabbed the pills she had been prescribed by the physician. She swallowed it dry before gulping down some water and let out a deep sigh, water drops clinging onto her lips and breathing ragged as she felt the pills sinking into her throat and down to her stomach. Almost instantly she could feel the pills take effect, chasing the pain away.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand she went back to her study once more, this time blatantly ignoring the device and pulled out her journal to write down her newest discovery.
The sphere was called the Protoschastic Sphere, according to Coran. Apparently it was created by the First Philosopher – an unknown man who was said to have invented it centuries ago, even before the First Lady, back when the countries where unified. Brilansis had a relatively young history only stretching as far as seventy years. Before then there had been no proper political system established. Only six of these spheres exist and were owned by important people. Which brings me the question of how I got one of them in my possession to begin with.
The sphere has given me another headache I'm afraid. I heard more voices too. I don't understand what that could possibly mean. Perhaps they're memories from another life? I doubt it, it feels too recent.
I will try again tomorrow. The migraine was worse this time.
Closing her diary she decided to head to bed. Not to actually sleep, her nightmares prevented that. She was going to read the book she borrowed, The Fall of Jericho: True or False?
However as she flipped open the page a massive thud echoed from the garden, the sound indicating something had fallen from the maple tree and onto the ground. She felt a spike of fear pulse through her.
Astraea mentally debated; if she went out there would be two scenarios: 1)It could a wild animal that had happened to climb onto the tree and fallen or 2) It could be a stranger that had tried to get into her house and jumped from the tree to get her attention and lure her out.
The former would be much more feasible.
Even so the greater part of her refused to leave the bed as she trembled, her heart thundered within her ribs like a frightened bird in a cage. It resonated in her ears and numbed her to the flesh and bones making her body refuse to move. An uncomfortable sense of déjà vu filled her senses.
'Move dammit," she yells ferociously inside her mind, willing her limbs to move out of the bed. Slowly she crept out of her bed and walked towards the front door with a knife in one hand, poised behind her hand. Gingerly she turned the knob of the door and opened it a fraction, peeking outside into the pitch black darkness of the outside. Crickets where singing to the night.
Astraea felt a bit of the tension of her body leave as she didn't spot anything. Perhaps it had indeed been a stray animal. She opened the door wider, knife hanging precariously from her fingertips as she relaxed. As she turned to go inside, however, she smelt something strange in the air. She turned back and sniffed a few times, trying to recognize the smell before realization hit her like a train.
It was the smell of blood. Something was there.
She felt her stomach churn relentlessly at the new smell that felt strangely familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. But then a thought invaded her mind, what if had been an animal? What if it were wounded?
Biting her lip in worry she debated with her moral values – check or no check?
Sighing she readjusted the grip on her knife and went ahead, carefully trading across the soft cold grass towards the maple tree, hand tight on the weapon and a keen eye on the ground. Soon enough she found a dark shape slunk against the tree. She could feel the adrenaline and paranoia reaching up to her throat as her heart hammered away inside of her. It was when she approached the figure did she let out a loud gasp with a curse.
It was a woman under the tree. A heavily injured woman who probably needed medical attention.
How on earth did she get here?
Who what she?
She shook her head slightly and rushed towards the stranger (ah, it's a woman, Astraea thinks absently) who lay motionlessly on the ground. The metallic scent of blood was heavier as she knelt beside her. Upon inspection her clothes and hands seemed to be drenched in blood, whether it was her own or someone else's was unclear. Astraea tried not to dwell on that thought as the sight and smell of blood evoked unpleasant sensations in her stomach and head.
The woman's hair seemed to be soaked (whether it was with blood or rain was unclear as well) and plastered to her pale face that seemed serene for some reason despite her state. Astraea gingerly placed her fingers on her throat to feel her pulse and breathed out a heavy sigh of relief to feel a strong pulse thundering underneath the cool skin.
Suddenly the woman flinched and open her eyes a fraction revealing a sliver of burgundy irises that looked at her with something akin to longing.
"Angel?" she croaks, voice hoarse and heavy, possibly from overuse before passing out. Astraea blinked, feeling her ears heat up at the name for reasons she doesn't understand yet. She felt her face scrunch ever so slightly in confusion.
'How ridiculous', she thinks absently as she calculates how she was supposed to move the behemoth of a woman into her cottage without breaking her back.
'This is going to be a long night.'