[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/qMzbGL2Y/Contest-zip-6.png[/img] [sub]Location: The Road Between the Jail and the Inn[/sub] [h1][i]Part IV[/i][/h1] [hr][/center] Elio didn’t invite Tia into one of the dark buildings, as she’d expected – instead, they slipped into the narrow alley between two of them, sheltered from the wind but not without the ambient torchlight that filled the air with a golden haze. The clouds parted just enough to see a sliver of moon, shining and silver. Hair tie in hand, Elio turned around to face Tia when he was deep enough in the alley, eyes bright even under the shadow of the buildings. Tia paused several steps away from him, apprehension buzzing under her skin as she imagined the footprints lining the snow behind her, leading her here. Elio’s smile was faint and amused. Unbothered. Unassuming. He raised the pointer finger of his free hand and drew a little circle in the air – [i]turn around.[/i] The moon slipped back behind a billowing grey cloud, its precious light stolen away as shadows filled the space. The hair tie spun idly between his fingers. His eyes were embers, with a light all their own. Tia turned around. Breath shallow in her chest, she held herself still as she listened to the steady crunch of his footsteps, bringing him closer to her. She thought that perhaps she could feel the heat of him at her back, even through her heavy layers. She could certainly feel his presence bearing down on her – the way her hair stood on end at his proximity. Her eyes were trained on the narrow hallway of light that spilled into the alley, dim and golden, an indistinct haze like mist hanging heavy in the mountains. Finally his hands found her – slowly, one first, and then the other. Long fingers gathered the hair along her temples, blunt nails drifting lightly over her skin. Tia couldn’t help the way she tensed slightly at the contact, shoulders lifting. But the hands didn’t falter. Strand by strand, Elio carefully pulled Tia’s hair until all of it fell in a tangled cascade down her back. And then, with long, gentle motions, he began to comb his fingers through her hair. It was quiet work – but not the sort of crushing, tense silence that Tia had found so suffocating on the path. It wasn’t quite comfortable – it was too… [i]intimate[/i] for that. Too disorienting. What was she supposed to do with this moment in time, hidden away in an alley with a stranger as he ran callused hands through her hair? Was this inappropriate? Likely. But nothing was happening, she told herself. Not [i]really[/i]. Tia considered the mountain of a man behind her – sharp eyes and a measured smile, his presence filling the space like it was his to command. The sort of man who seemed like he was never hungry, because he was always lining up his next meal. He seemed the type to play with his food. Tia watched the snowflakes drift softly, eyes straight ahead as her face warmed. She tried to swallow, her cold fingers worrying around each other in front of her legs. Elio’s fingers caught against a tangle, the tug reverberating against her scalp. Tia jumped – only for a solid hand to land on her shoulder, holding her in place. After a moment – too tense, too heavy – the hand withdrew and his attention returned to her hair. [color=darkorange]“No one teaches Aurelians a damn thing about the snow.”[/color] He pushed the silence aside, as easily as he’d brushed the snow from her shoulders. It was almost like he was muttering it to himself – or scolding her. Tia blinked, not expecting his soft voice, or how close it sounded from behind her, above her head. But she kept herself still for him as he worked. [color=darkorange]“The cold makes the air drier than you’re used to,”[/color] he said, voice still low. [color=darkorange]“And going in and out of that temple all the time, the temperature changes will be damaging. You’ll need to be more careful with your hair.”[/color] Tia almost nodded, but thought better of herself – he likely wouldn’t appreciate the movement. A thread of embarrassment wound through her, an automatic shyness at his tone, that he felt the need to educate her. But there was something curious wound up in it too. She thought of his dark hair, the soft sheen of it beneath the glitter of snow. Who had taught Elio about the cold? A generous Lunarian? Another Aurelian, who’d started out sun-soaked and shivering as she was? Something warmed in Tia at the thought – she imagined herself sitting with the twins in their room, on one of their beds, aglow in the candlelight as they laughed and Tia passed on the knowledge Elio gave her now – it felt like a lifetime since they’d [i]laughed[/i] together. Little by little, she felt her shoulders relax, her tension slowly seeping out as Elio worked his way through the knots the wind had woven into her long hair. It was oddly soothing, as she allowed herself to sink into the feeling of hands in her hair, the gentle tug… the simple act of being cared for, even if it was by a stranger. When was the last time someone else had done her hair? Certainly not since it’d turned pale as the dawn. She wondered what Elio saw as he combed through her hair – the first person to ever handle her new blonde strands. It still caught her off guard sometimes, when she glanced it in her periphery, expecting black hair to frame her face. Did it seem off to him? Unnatural in some unknowable way? Or did he think she’d been born with this – blonde hair was unheard of for someone purely of Ember Island heritage, but maybe he thought she was mixed. Maybe he didn’t know a thing about the islanders, and didn’t think to question it. Maybe he didn’t see anything amiss with her at all. There was something… oddly peaceful about the thought. That maybe, to every new person she met, she wasn’t… [i]divided[/i] in their mind, into a before and an after. Whole, and then broken. Elio’s hands shifted in her hair, untangled to his satisfaction. Then, to her continued wonder, she felt the tug of a [i]braid[/i] being woven. A small, breathy laugh caught in her throat as her lips quirked up in an amused smile. The hands in her hair paused for a moment, before continuing. [color=darkorange]“I admit, I’m surprised,”[/color] his low voice slipped through the silence again, [color=darkorange]“that a member of the clergy would bother with someone accused of treason.”[/color] The smile fell from Tia’s face. [color=darkorange]“Seems times as dark as these, there are plenty others more worthy of the Sun Church’s light.”[/color] The glowing embers that had warmed Tia from the inside out dimmed. Her fingers curled tighter around each other. He wasn’t… [i]wrong[/i], exactly. There [i]were[/i] many in Dawnhaven who were desperate for a glimpse of sunlight. And while Tia didn’t know how to give them reassurances that Aelios [i]hadn’t[/i] abandoned them, or that there was a plan, or that this crushing darkness would someday end if only they had the unshakable faith that she was meant to represent… she knew they deserved what she could give them – comfort. Healing. Perhaps even hope, if she was strong enough to offer it. But the way his voice curled dismissively through the air as he spoke of Gadez – the implication that he was [i]unworthy[/i] of her time because of a single mistake – twisted something in Tia’s chest, just as Elio slowly twisted her hair in his hands. She tried to swallow with her ruined throat – a reminder that no matter what people thought about Tia’s hair, there would [i]always[/i] be clear evidence that she was broken, indeed. Careful not to move her head or neck, Tia unwound her fingers and pulled her notebook and pencil from her pocket. It was awkward to try and write like this, the open page held at an angle just high enough that she could look down at it without tilting her head, but she managed it well enough. Message complete, she held the book up so it was visible from over her shoulder for him. [color=lemonchiffon][i][quote]Is light not the most meaningful among shadows?[/quote][/i][/color] She felt his hands still as he read. She tried to imagine the face he made, how his eyes might’ve flickered as he processed how she chose to communicate – what conclusions he might’ve drawn from it. The silence lengthened as he read, longer than it should’ve taken him for a simple sentence. Tia fidgeted with the pencil held tightly between her fingers. [color=darkorange]“If it’s wasted, is it still meaningful?”[/color] The words, though said as easily as everything else Elio had given her thus far, sank sharply into Tia with their callousness. She felt the light tugging at her hair again, the sign that Elio had returned to his work. [color=darkorange]“There’s so little light to go around these days, I’d expect you to guard it more jealously – have some discernment. Surely there’re those more deserving.”[/color] There was that scolding tone again – but there was a harder edge to his words this time. Tia’s eyebrows pulled together as she brought the notebook back down and wrote another message for him. [color=lemonchiffon][i][quote]That judgement is not mine to cast.[/quote][/i][/color] His response was nearly immediate this time, edged with humor that sliced through her like the cold. [color=darkorange]“You sure you’re a Priestess?”[/color] She wanted to shrink away from him suddenly, as heat rose to her cheeks like shame. But he still had her hair in his hands. [color=lemonchiffon][i][quote]There are those more suited for justice and punishment. My role is to offer what warmth I can. To all.[/quote][/i][/color] Even written out, Tia could hear her own meekness in the words, could see the muffled embarrassment in each thin line. She was suddenly thankful that her back was to him – that she didn’t have to try and meet his eyes. [color=darkorange]“I suppose it’d make your job harder,”[/color] he said after another stretch of silence, [color=darkorange]“if you had to be both blade and bandage.”[/color] She tried not to flinch as she thought of the golden dagger hidden in her closet. [color=darkorange]“Never known a clergy member to offer much [i]warmth[/i], though. Shame, sure. Judgement. Sanctimoniousness.”[/color] Each word was another dizzying blow, and Tia was left reeling, trying to figure out how the conversation had taken such a harsh turn. But before she could do more than blink rapidly, her shoulders lifting like she could shield herself, a weight was lightly tossed over her shoulder – her finished braid. Tia startled at the movement, twisting where she stood and taking a step back away from the towering man that filled the alley behind her. Like he was yet another stone wall. His eyes were bright against his tan skin, his dark hair. He had that same sharpness to his gaze, curled in his smile, even as the rest of his body seemed perfectly relaxed. Backlit, the shadow Tia cast was fuzzy and indistinct against his defined chest. It barely came up to his collarbones. She pulled her eyes away, looking for an escape from his gaze. She found her hair. It was a jostling golden rope, each weave tight and even. The color seemed darker somehow – less pale, more substantial, with all the strands densely wound together. And at the bottom, just above the wisping ends of her hair, was Elio’s harband. It was a stark midnight against the dawn. Kindness. Care – or something like it. She looked back up to the stonemason and his burning eyes. The echo of his words still stung where they’d struck her, a sharp contrast to how gently he’d handled her. He was too watchful of her for his hurtful words to have simply been a faux pas – he was being upsetting on purpose. But he didn’t immediately follow with more cruelty now. No… he just waited. Realization clicked into place, buried beneath her anxious heartbeat and disorientation: she was being [i]evaluated.[/i] It made her want to hide away, and run back to the warmth of the temple. She wanted Dyna’s surety. Ranni’s devotion. But left to her own devices, under Elio’s calculating stare, Tia only felt startlingly inadequate. The scarf around her neck, hiding her scar from view, suddenly felt like it was strangling her. She heard the High Priest’s disappointed sigh as he turned away from her. Elio watched expectantly – still waiting for her response. Snow glittered where it fell against his dark hair. Hesitantly, Tia lifted her notebook again to write. [color=lemonchiffon][i][quote]I apologize if previous encounters with the Church have left that impression. The Sun warms, but it can also burn, and turn harsh if one does not exercise care.[/quote][/i][/color] Had he been wronged in some way? Was he nursing a grudge? Tia had assumed him to be devout when she’d learned his name, but he hadn’t chosen it for himself – his [i]parents[/i] had. Were they overzealous? Was his name an old wound that had never properly scarred over? Tia watched his eyes dart briefly over the words before his smile turned wry. [color=darkorange]“Sun’s not doing much of anything anymore, is it?”[/color] he mocked, gaze cutting back to her. It was an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu – Tia remembered the harsh man from the springs, and his taunts. [color=darkorange]“Maybe the moon folk have had it right all along – Seluna’s the one who’s actually stuck around. We would’ve all been better off forsaking Aelios years ago, I bet.”[/color] [color=lemonchiffon]“I disagree.”[/color] The frail words slipped out of her before she could stop them, as insubstantial as the fog she breathed. Elio paused. When Tia did nothing but stare back at him, heart in her throat, he raised a dark eyebrow. Finally, she turned her attention back to her book, gaze flicking up at him nervously. [color=lemonchiffon][i][quote]The Moon has had the sky to Herself for over a year now in Lunaris. Are Her people better for it?[/quote][/i][/color] Tia forced herself to watch his face as he read, weighing her words. Weighing [i]her.[/i] The corner of his lips quirked up. He finally met her gaze again, and it stilled Tia’s breath in her chest. [color=darkorange]“If you ever find out, let me know.”[/color] Tia didn’t know what to do with his murmured response. Her book lowered slightly as they stared at each other, gauging each other beneath the golden glow and silver moonlight. The snow never stopped falling. [color=darkorange]“Come on,”[/color] he finally said. And just like that, the moment was broken. Elio pushed forwards, and it was all Tia could do to scramble out of his way and press herself against the wall of the building to let him pass. [color=darkorange]“Let’s get you to your prisoner.”[/color] With that he exited the alley, back into the open air of Dawnhaven. Tia blinked after him, her heartbeat not quite settling as she let out a heavy, billowing breath. She watched him for a few steps – the way he moved with that same surety, how he seemed to command the space around him, the steady shifting of his muscles as he left her behind. But he waited for her, when he made it back to the path. He didn’t bother to look back at her – hadn’t offered his arm, as he had when they’d first met. Instead he stood easily in the path, his sharp eyes examining the stones – the buildings – the snow. Tia slipped her pencil into her hand against her notebook, her free fingers finding the soft ends of her hair as she watched him take up space – tall and solid, filling the slim window that the alley’s entrance created. Every warm and smokey color against Dawnhaven’s winter landscape. Her fingers rose a little higher to find the hair tie – tight and neat, just as the rest of her braid was. Those ember eyes finally found her again, tucked away in the shadows of the alley. His eyebrows raised expectantly. His gaze was as critical as ever. Tia swallowed around the lump in her throat and released the hair tie. She forced herself to step forward, back into the path and the golden light of the torches that lined it.