Page 16

Ignatia

Amara City doesn't stop being strange.

So apparently, cars and sparkly walkways aren't the only crazy technologies they have. In the car, Amias shows me this glass device called a phone where you communicate with people from anywhere instantaneously, even on the other side of Adoro. I can barely even fathom it myself.

Then there's the homeless shelter itself.

It's an unbelievably tall block of cement and glass on the outside, but you step into the lobby and it's beautifully decorated with crystal chandeliers, pristine floors and golden ceilings.

After Amias signed some papers, he suggested riding up an “elavador” which is a metal box that takes you up whatever floor you need to go up to.

I declined the offer, already having dealt with enough magical devices for today.

We climb up the stairs up to the third floor and I follow him as he glances between doors. After a minute, he finally stops at one and unlocks it with keys. "Here we are," Amias swings the door open to room 323, moving aside with a bow so I can get into the room first.

I walk in slowly through the short hallway, greeted by smooth dark wooden planks creaking softly under my shoes and the faint aroma of flowers.

I turn the corner to a bed that takes up half the room, covered in fluffy pastel blue comforters and pillows with golden leaf prints all over it. The walls have been painted an even lighter shade than the comforter, adorned with a landscape painting of a winter forest above the headboard.

On the opposite wall, stands a desk, decorated with swirls from golden tinted wood, and a note. I stroll over to it to read the note: Welcome! We are so glad we're able to help you, Clara!

This is a nice place to stay. If there is one thing I miss about Somnia, it's having my personal bedroom. Sleeping on metal benches and concrete doesn't satisfy my needs. “How long do I have here?" I murmur as Amias leans against the wall of the little entryway.

"As long as you need." His smile seems genuine.

So I can stay for a while before heading to Caelestia, though I suppose I can't take too long. Another day in Amara is another day surrounded by killers of my kind. At least I'd be safe from death in Caelestia.

This place seems way too good to be true though. I guess I am lucky to have encountered Amias. He's not as bad as I thought he would be, considering what I know about his grandmother. His persistence certainly surprised me, especially after he almost died for me today.

But this situation would be a lot different if he knew I was a dreamscreecher.

"Thank you." I bow my head. “I really appreciate this.”

He waves a hand bashfully, as if shooing away my comment.

“Oh it's nothing. I'm just glad you have a nice place to stay.” He brushes by me to stand before the wooden cabinet next to my desk.

“Now you just need a proper meal.” He opens the closet, revealing four metal shelves with a somewhat transparent barrier of blue, billowing like lake waves across them. "We need to fill this up."

I perk a brow. "Can you magically make food appear too?” Seems plausible after everything I’ve seen.

He snickers. “If I were the grandson of the Gift of Life, I could. Only she and her kids can do that.” He drops his smile suddenly and scans me up and down. “We should get takeout for the night and go shopping tomorrow. That's the quickest way for you to get a meal.”

“Takeout?” Is it another kind of strange magic?

Amias cocks his head, before moving his slightly puckered lips sideways. “We order food from a restaurant.” His eyes widen for a second as if a realization hit him. “There's a restaurant down the street with authentic Caelestian food. Maybe we can try that.”

Getting a taste of Caelestia before I go would be interesting. My stomach growls at the thought. “What do they have?”

We spend the next few minutes on that glass “phone” device thing and scroll through the options.

I get something called a lamb pila against Amias’ warning about spices.

It's supposed to be a fried ball of lamb, black beans and some grain called rice.

Black beans and lamb are the most familiar ingredients to me so it seems like a decent choice.

Meanwhile, Amias gets a custom spira which is a flatbread topped with many things I haven't heard of, like “artachokes” and lentils.

We wait for the food to arrive, and soon enough, there's a knock on the door. A box with mechanical wings flutters outside the door before Amias takes it. Apparently, it's another insane technology from the Honestus kingdom to make delivery easy.

The pila ends up being delicious but it burns my tongue.

Even the outside of the pilas are slaughtered in red sauce as if to warn me.

It's harder to handle two pilas in, but thankfully, it came with a free cup of milk.

Amias laughs and mentions they started providing milk after most Amarians couldn't handle the meal.

Despite the pain in my mouth and my teary eyes, I willingly suffer through it just to get that beautiful crunch and delicious savory taste.

Maybe I would've gotten through easier with a spira which Amias eats smugly with no issues.

After that, Amias goes off to find the needle and thread. It isn't that long before he comes through the door with the items.

I reach for them, plopping on my bed. A pout forms on his lips as I take the items out of his hand. He's hesitant to loosen his grip.

I dip my head respectfully. "Thank you.”

"You're welcome…" he says almost skeptically. He crosses his arms, his pupils growing. "Just…if you need my personal doctor-"

"I'm fine just doing this on my own," I roll my eyes. "I've done this enough times." I put the string through the needle before pulling off my shirt and pointing the needle to my wound.

Here goes nothing.

"I…I should give you privacy." Amias starts to walk away.

"What for? I’m not naked." I look down at my black bra. It's not like my breasts are hanging out.

“Well, here in Amara, we tend to like our privacy when we're in our underwear," Amias says, keeping his back towards me. “Do you just strip down to your underwear in Lluvia?”

I curl my lip back. “No but it's no big deal. How is this any different from what those women wear out there?" It seems to be a part of the culture. I've seen many drunk women wearing bras around shirtless men.

“Those are crop tops. There's a difference.”

“Really? Because I don't see it.” I shrug before looking down to the needle. Dread weighs my heart down.

I can do this.

"You seriously don't mind?"

"Seriously. Just as long as you can control your hands and keep them off me. I have better things to worry about." I stare down at my wound as my hand trembles.

I can't be made weak by this damn needle.

“Don't you want to clean your wounds first?” Amias approaches from the corner of my eyes, his body towering over me. “It might be better to do that instead of just stitching them how they are. They could be infected.”

“That's not how I've usually done it.” I glower at him. How many reminders does he need to remember I’ve done this multiple times?

His nose wrinkles. "And you've never been infected before?"

"No," I snap as I look back down to the wound.

I suck in a breath and bring the needle up to the cut. My teeth sink into my tongue when the cold sharp tip touches skin. I shudder.

I just have to get it over with. I've done this before.

I've done this since I was fourteen.

"It's better to kill her while she's still young!" A black dreamscreecher snapped, his blood covered claws digging into the dirt. "Kill her before she becomes the wicked bitch her mother is!"

I hold my needle at the skin, wincing at the memory. A peasant had attacked me, simply for existing as Vasilisa’s daughter. It was the first time I had wounds that needed stitches.

“You better hold your fucking tongue before I rip it out your throat.

" Another dreamscreecher, almost identical to the attacker, hissed back.

Only his fur was more sleek - a clear sign of his youth.

You could barely tell the difference in the dimly lit tavern, but the candles on the chandeliers revealed just enough.

My heart pulls to my stomach. Kaius. My friend. No matter what torture Vasilisa put him through as a knight, he always defended me.

"I can handle this!" I yelled in dreamscreecher form despite my body trembling and the bite wounds near my neck. "I don't need your protection! If I wanted to, I would kill him myself!"

I squeeze the needle between my fingers. Stitching is already torture enough! Stop it!

"Yeah, go back to that evil bitch with your tails between your legs," my attacker growled. "Go ahead and fuck off!"

The dreamscreecher yelped as Kaius slammed him onto the ground without warning. My body stiffened before I whipped my head away from the scene. All I could hear was cheering as Kaius and my attacker yowled and dug their claws into each other.

There was a snap…and then a scream…

My breath caught in my lungs.

What the fuck was Kaius doing?

Shut up. Shut up! Stop reminding me!

I stare down the needle, realizing my breath is unsteady and my vision is clouded by tears.

There's a shiver of guilt, knowing that I could've prevented that man's death if I had just told Kaius to stop. I should've demanded it. That man didn't deserve his death. He was afraid.

I mean, who could blame him after everything he must've gone through. It was hard enough for those of us close to the queen. Imagine how she treated the rest of the kingdom.

The floor creaks and I snap my head up, biting my tongue to stop the tears. Vasilisa? Fuck I can't let her-

No. Not her. Blue eyes. A slightly muted blue, like water on a cloudy day. Not deadly green eyes.

It's Amias that's kneeling beside me, his eyes glossed over. His dilated pupils make it seem like he stole them from a puppy.