63rd of Winter, 516 AV
Feeling more than a little confused, Phobius watched as the man who'd introduced himself as Liedo hurried down the street. There was a lot that he wanted to ask him, but it seemed like he was in a rush, and he didn't want to slow him down if there was somewhere else that he needed to be or someone else he needed to talk to. Once he rounded a corner and was out of sight, the Inarta looked down at the note that he'd been given and started to read it. Some of the words were simple ones that he'd seen before, but there were others that he had to sound out, doing so under his breath so that no one else would hear him.
"I'm sorry I couldn't talk. There are Listeners everywhere. I've been doing my own watching, I know you sympathise with the Vantha. I do too, it's why I've set up a safehouse for them. I don't know if it will work, but we've got to try. Please come to this house on the 90th. I'll be needing your help then. There's always hope.
~Liedo."
That was all that the man had written. Nevertheless, Phobius stared at the words as though there was something hidden in them, failing to notice that his hands had started to tremble. He knew all about the Vantha, having seen the posters around Alvadas and heard what most Alvads thought of Morwen, the Goddess of Winter. According to them, she had done something wrong, and it was because of that that the Vantha were being hunted down and killed. He hadn't wanted to believe it--the Alvads he knew would never do something as horrible as that to poor, innocent people. Yet the hate in their voices had been real, and those same voices had cursed Morwen's name and sworn to kill all her followers. The few he'd met who were against the violence had warned him to keep quiet about it, lest he was punished for siding with the Vantha, but that hadn't stopped him from wishing that there was something that he could do to help them, and now there was.
Though it took a good deal of effort, Phobius managed to steady his hands after a little while and swallow the fear that had risen like bile in his throat. Then he stuffed the note into his pocket and, with his head down and his eyes fixed on the ruined toes of his boots, started to walk. Honestly, he wasn't sure what to do, next; the 90th was a long ways away, and up until now he'd all but locked himself in his and Dex's house, reluctant to set so much as a single foot outside unless it was to buy some food or deliver something to someone. He could go back home, and was sure that he'd feel much safer there than he did out here, but then what...? What was there to do, other than sit around and wait for something to happen?
At that moment, an idea popped into his head. It'd been a while since he had paid Miss Maya a visit; if he went over to her house right now and showed her the note, she could tell him what he should do. Quite confident in this, the boy began his search, and it didn't take him too long to find it; it always sat next to her mother's wood-carving shop, and the garden in front of it was always filled with dead flowers, which he still found strange and a little sad.
"Miss Maya?" he called when he was at the door, and he knocked on it, the sound uncertain and soft despite the sense of urgency he felt. "It's me, Phobius. Are you in there?"
a Nari a Common a
Feeling more than a little confused, Phobius watched as the man who'd introduced himself as Liedo hurried down the street. There was a lot that he wanted to ask him, but it seemed like he was in a rush, and he didn't want to slow him down if there was somewhere else that he needed to be or someone else he needed to talk to. Once he rounded a corner and was out of sight, the Inarta looked down at the note that he'd been given and started to read it. Some of the words were simple ones that he'd seen before, but there were others that he had to sound out, doing so under his breath so that no one else would hear him.
"I'm sorry I couldn't talk. There are Listeners everywhere. I've been doing my own watching, I know you sympathise with the Vantha. I do too, it's why I've set up a safehouse for them. I don't know if it will work, but we've got to try. Please come to this house on the 90th. I'll be needing your help then. There's always hope.
~Liedo."
That was all that the man had written. Nevertheless, Phobius stared at the words as though there was something hidden in them, failing to notice that his hands had started to tremble. He knew all about the Vantha, having seen the posters around Alvadas and heard what most Alvads thought of Morwen, the Goddess of Winter. According to them, she had done something wrong, and it was because of that that the Vantha were being hunted down and killed. He hadn't wanted to believe it--the Alvads he knew would never do something as horrible as that to poor, innocent people. Yet the hate in their voices had been real, and those same voices had cursed Morwen's name and sworn to kill all her followers. The few he'd met who were against the violence had warned him to keep quiet about it, lest he was punished for siding with the Vantha, but that hadn't stopped him from wishing that there was something that he could do to help them, and now there was.
Though it took a good deal of effort, Phobius managed to steady his hands after a little while and swallow the fear that had risen like bile in his throat. Then he stuffed the note into his pocket and, with his head down and his eyes fixed on the ruined toes of his boots, started to walk. Honestly, he wasn't sure what to do, next; the 90th was a long ways away, and up until now he'd all but locked himself in his and Dex's house, reluctant to set so much as a single foot outside unless it was to buy some food or deliver something to someone. He could go back home, and was sure that he'd feel much safer there than he did out here, but then what...? What was there to do, other than sit around and wait for something to happen?
At that moment, an idea popped into his head. It'd been a while since he had paid Miss Maya a visit; if he went over to her house right now and showed her the note, she could tell him what he should do. Quite confident in this, the boy began his search, and it didn't take him too long to find it; it always sat next to her mother's wood-carving shop, and the garden in front of it was always filled with dead flowers, which he still found strange and a little sad.
"Miss Maya?" he called when he was at the door, and he knocked on it, the sound uncertain and soft despite the sense of urgency he felt. "It's me, Phobius. Are you in there?"
a Nari a Common a
