Sacred City

I see," She hummed, a little distant and looked down at her basket filled with spiced meat.

" You haven't eaten yours," She noted with slight amusement," I didn't peg you for squirmish, " He wasn't, but not knowing what it was before it was spiked, didn't sit right with him. He hoped that Arvun would receive them at the end of the day and that he was absolutely wrong about his assumption. He dearly hoped that he was horribly wrong.

" I'm not," He cleared his throat, and stared down the skewer in his hand, trying to decide whether he should brave it and swallow the damn thing in one go.

" If you'll die," She smirked, " I'll make sure to give you a proper burial," She patted his shoulder and returned to munching on one of the skewers.

" A very touching sentiment," He replied with a slight bitter-tinged amusement, took a deep breath and popped one chunk of meat in his mouth. And down it went as it was, unchewed and lodged in his throat.

" You're supposed to chew your food," She smirked as she turned around and began walking away, nibbling on her skewered meat while he struggled to dislodge the damn thing, and regretting having put it in his mouth in the first place.

With a certain hop in her stride, Iris continued walking through the market, as she purchased a few things here and there. Exchanging the gold that they had for orian coins to make the purchases easier.

The day went by almost unnoticed. He'd forgotten about the guards shadowing them and focused on the woman before him. She seemed at ease, but then again he was walking a step behind her, and he spent most of the day looking at the back of her head. He did prefer the front for all intents and purposes.

Dusk crept over the land, and more people began swarming in, from everywhere and nowhere. The music got louder, and damijons filled with raika began appearing at the stalls. Iris settled to watch perched on the pillar of a stone wall from what appeared to be a K'arali temple.

After watching her from a distance for quite some time, he decided to join her. They couldn't speak openly about their affairs, so he settled to watch in silence along with her.

" Why is their skin inked differently?" She observed two of the lower caste members not far away from them, as they sang in unison each with a demijohn in their hands, swaying to the music.

"They belong to different castes," In the flickering light of the torches, he couldn't quite distinguish to which they belonged.

But they weren't K'arali, since he hasn't seen one all day. Most likely cooped up with the king in his chambers, trying to decide their faith. Not that any of them would attend Simele, since the celebration was meant to ease the spirits of those from the lower castes. Each K'arali ruled over a caste and held different high-standing positions in court.

" How many castes are there? Came the following question, as she continued surveying the crowd, with squinted eyes, absently munching on her leshan rolls. No meat this time around. Root vegetables wrapped in leaves and cooked in the hearth, seasoned with honey, and curcumin.

" Six," He took another bite out of the roll in his hand, savouring the earthiness of the dish, and the fact that it hadn't crawled over those rocks at any point in its existence.

" Interesting, " She hummed and wolfed down the last two remaining rolls in her leaf basket. There was a chance that things had changed over the ages but he doubted, since the K'arali bloodline had held onto power for many generations.

Nodding, more to herself than him, she placed the basket on the wall and sighed as she intently observed the crowd. Even if without the ink on them to mark the caste, they were easy to distinguish. The lower the cast, the drabbier they were vested. Dark rich colours were meant for those of high standing, and lighter colours for those who weren't. A simple system, a constant reminder of where they belonged.

" We are going to need a miracle," She softly said even though the guards flanking them were close enough to hear even a whisper. Now, that they had willingly entered Oros, there was no telling if they would ever walk out. It wasn't even worth attempting. Traditions or not, matters had been handled cordially. Except for the two goons shadowing, or better said breathing down their necks, there were no signs of foul play.

" I believe in something more," He peeled his eyes off the crowd to look at her," More than a miracle," She met his gaze, and slightly nodded. Hopefully, in understanding. Dusk has fully settled in over Oros, and after an entire dwanderinging through Caral, it was time for them to retire to their assigned chambers.

" We should return to the palace," Corvin pushed himself off the wall, and waited for her to follow. There was much joy and cheer in their drunkenness. Food was abundant, music, and plenty of raika to go around. A little reluctant, Iris pushed herself off the little wall and joined him and the guards as they leisurely strode through the alley leading up to the palace. Horses, carts, mules, and caravans, were lined up at the edge of the quadrant. It seemed that not everyone joined Simele, after all. Either that or the population was dwindling. Oros had a harsh climate compared to Hessia, and Arrington. Mild winters and scorching summers. With the exception of the half-a-dozen oasis peppered throughout, there was nothing more than wasteland and tar pools, everywhere you looked. Bordering Hessia only by half a day horse ride, Caral benefited qeather wise. No one had seen the other oasis and lived to tell the tale.

The path leading up to the palace seemed longer than it was in the morning. The same flickering torches, guards posted by the entrance and more patrolling the gardens of the K'arali palace.