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Canlian Dridhul ~ Can-lee-an-D-rid-hul
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GOLDEN rays of sunlight streamed through gaps in fluffy, yellow-tinged clouds, casting warm patches of light upon the cobblestone ground below as leaves rose and fell in a dance only they could understand. Life thrummed around Karyn and Zack as they meandered along the bustling side of the road, their senses fully engaged in the sights and sounds of the marketplace.

On either side of them, an endless array of stalls stretched out, each one bursting with colorful products ranging from vibrant fabrics to aromatic spices. Merchants shouted to attract customers, their voices melding into a lively chorus that filled the air. People navigated the path in diverse manners—some raced past on mini-threaders with only two seats, others strolled, and a few ambled with purpose, their faces animated in conversation or awe.

A cool breeze drifted through the market, carrying with it the distinct sounds of clinking coins and the lively bartering of eager shoppers. The air was thick with the scent of fresh fruits and sense-tingling spices, drawing in all who passed by.

Karyn and Zack had recently crossed into the heart of the traditional market after stepping off the bus, and they were now making their way toward Canlian Dridhul, an inn renowned among travelers for its hospitality. Zack had suggested it as a perfect lodging spot, and given his thorough knowledge of the area, Karyn and the others felt it was best to trust his judgment.

He had recounted the route from memory, detailing a series of twists and turns through the crowded market, but Karyn felt confident they wouldn't stray off course. They faced no real danger of losing their way; if worse came to worst, they could always inquire with the surrounding traders, who undoubtedly had an intimate knowledge of the inn's whereabouts given its proximity to the market hub.

As they strolled, Karyn's hand remained comfortably entwined with Zack's, and she found a sense of serenity in their connection. She noted the absence of their companions—Jamie, Marcela, and Salome—who had faded from sight. However, she felt assured that they would remain together.

The quiet intimacy she shared with Zack felt refreshing as they ambled side by side without the urgency of their earlier journey. A warm smile rested on Karyn's lips with her heart light with the simple pleasure of his company.

"Are you purposefully taking your time so you can hold my hand longer?" she teased, looking up at him with warm brown eyes.

"No," he paused, and then, with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he added, "Maybe."

"Does it feel different?" she asked as he looked around.

"In some ways, yes. It's certainly got busier than before, that's for sure. Back then, I could tell who everyone was and what they sold, but now, I don't think I can. This market was where Azri, Via, and I would come every weekend. We were the errand children, and we loved it."

"Errand children?"

"We had a large amount of old people whose children had either abandoned them or had sought brighter pastures outside the fields of Dhul. So the few youths left agreed to assist the elders, buying things for them. Helping them restock."

"That stall there," he started, stopping to point at a wide shop that sold various types and sizes of cups. "That was Cinga-Marie's. She made portable cups that could brew their own tea. Anytime we finished for the day, I would always come and she would still be here. I was always curious about how she made them, so I would stay up late every night to watch. We developed a rare bond that, to this day, I can never explain. But despite that, she didn't want to share her secret with me. She said I had to prove myself worthy of it."

"And how did you do that?"

"She sent me on a wild goose chase to uncover the mystery of two brothers who died while fighting for custody of their old mother."

"And did you solve it?" Karyn asked with wide eyes that remained fixed on Zack, who kept staring at the cups.

"I came up with various conclusions and theories, but I never did solve the mystery."

Karyn's lips curled up to a teasing smile. "So you mean to say, there was a time that your conclusions were... incorrect." She raised a hand to cover her mouth in mock surprise. "I refuse to believe."

"I wasn't always as sharp as I am now. It was Cinga-Marie who made me who I am. She helped me figure out how to see things that weren't there. Well, she was a major part of it."

"Did she ever find you worthy of her secret?" she asked once they continued their walk.

"She passed before she could tell me. Or maybe she left clues for me, but it was just before my parents vanished, so..." he trailed off, finally casting his eyes away from the life around and down to the leafy ground. A single leaf rose solemnly as he said, "I didn't even pay my respects before I left."

She stepped closer to him, reducing the space between them and taking his hands in hers. He raised his eyes to meet hers as he let her lead him into an alley, seeking some privacy from the bustling crowd around.

"You would do anything to get your parents back. I would do the same if they were alive. Heck, look how badly I want to know what happened to them. We are alike in that way and throughout this journey, you've always been there. From the horrid beginning up to this very point. I want you to know that you can lean on me too. I don't know how long you've been on your own, but you don't have to do it alone anymore. Lean on me too."

He brought his head to lean on hers and despite his unsaid words; she heard him loud and clear. In the way his breathing slowed like he was trying so hard to regulate it, so hard to stop the words from falling.

He smiled back at her before leaning in to kiss her. It was soft and passionate yet chaste enough not to make her go crazy with want. After all, they still had somewhere to go and couldn't get lost making out in an alley, at least not yet.

As soon as they resumed their walk, she noticed various banners with crown-like cutouts hanging around them, along with some shapes she couldn't recognize.

"These banners," she started. "Is there a party going on?"

His smile held a meaning she couldn't decipher. "Oh, that's for Dwin Rhiena. It's coming up soon."

"What's that?"

In the next moment, he leaned in very close and his lips parted, letting his breath fan her ear and neck and spread the fuzziness through her being. "Your birthday, of course," he whispered, and she grounded to a halt before her wide eyes flashed to his.

"My..."

"I told you it's a celebration here," he said, nudging her slightly before resuming their walk.

Looking around, it all seemed extravagant for a princess whose whereabouts were unknown. Yet they celebrated her. Even she had forgotten about her birthday. Had time flown so fast? Had she been so swept up by it all that she forgot her birthday?

It's not like she had anything special to look forward to. All she got was a little cupcake with Kara singing 'Happy Birthday' to her early in the morning before she would go ahead with her chores for the day. Once that was past, that was it and they won't speak of it till the next year. Even Elowen couldn't do much for her as it would fall during the holidays when she seldom had the chance to go out and spend the day with her best friend.

It hadn't taken a while before they all got reunited. But when they did, everyone had questions and the one person who they were for was evading them.

Gema returned with a bandage wrapped around her shoulder and holding her arm up in a sling. She had a cut on her lip which had swollen. Even when Marcela had probed Gema in a corner, it was clear to Karyn that the Rubian remained tight-lipped about her injuries.

Karyn couldn't sense any of the usual warmth and radiance the Rubian had, leaving her wondering, like everyone, what exactly had happened in the hours they spent apart.

"Now we've been able to cross the border, we move on to the next item on the agenda. Finding Sahsa. Zack, what exactly do you know about him?"

"As I've said to Marcela and Karyn, Sahsa is a powerful man. He runs The Jrin, which is a network of underground tunnels that runs across Yhulja, Vunmarc, and Dhandria, which makes it quite useful to us at this point. Now I don't have any personal connections with him, but I know people who could be of help."

"Then you and Karyn would handle getting in touch with Sahsa and finding out all they can. We have to trust this man to know that his tunnels would grant us safe passage. Jamie and Marcela would also ask around. Make sure you're discrete about it. We don't know the people's opinions of this man. Salome, you and I will resume training, while I also try to contact Dovelyn. We can't keep sneaking around like criminals when we are the ones supposed to be at the helm of affairs. Now, if there would be no questions..."

She hadn't liked the name when Gema started using it, but hearing the Rubian call her anything but Ryn now increased her concern. But before anyone could even ask, the Rubian was up and out.

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DESPITE how hard she'd been trying to hold herself together. There was only so much she could keep in. Her breaths came out in pants, forming wisps of cold air visible under the glow of the two moons.

As she walked on, leaves fled from her feet, some rising to her line of sight, others falling as soon as they rose. None of them rose gently, as if they sensed her inner turmoil and fled from her anxious energy. She tried to steady her breath, rubbing her hands over her arms. The memory was not relenting in its torture on her.

If only she could burn her own memories instead.

What was the point of such powers if you couldn't use them on yourself? Although she saw reason why it would be detrimental, should she be able to burn her own memories, she couldn't help but wish that it was possible.

Since she lost her mother to it, she had vowed not to use the power again. So why had it been so easy for her to burn a stranger's memories? Regardless of his aim, he didn't have to die for it, not by her hands and not in such a cruel way.

She had vowed when she took the Gem that she would be a protector of The Royal Family, Wlerden, and its people. No matter how she may try, there was simply no justification for what she had done.

She wiped her hand over her face when she sat on a nearby bench. The night was cold and quiet, but she could hear her breaths still coming out in her pants. Her attempts at regulating it had been futile. She could also hear her heart beating in her chest, the blood rushing in her ears, the tingles she was trying so hard to suppress.

Tingles to do it again.

As much as she hated doing it, she couldn't deny the surge it brought, that sadistic smile on her lips upon hearing the man's screams echo into the night as the blood-red smoke filled the air around, That smell of burning, singing flesh and—

"Gema?" Someone placed their hands on her shoulders, but she jerked away like the person had splashed ice water on her. When she did, she met with a familiar set of emerald eyes. Eyes that had haunted her ever since.

This was not what she needed now.

She couldn't help the words that tumbled out of her mouth.

"Mother?" But even in the darkness, she could see the flash of emotion, as if brighter than the day. "Sorry, Davina," she corrected herself.

"Gema, what are you doing here?" Davina asked, concern etching her brows, her eyes darting around before settling on the askew Rubian.

"I'm..." she stuttered, at a loss for words.

Years had passed since she last laid eyes on Davina and the woman had grown to be even more beautiful. Her emerald eyes shone like precious jewels under the streetlight and her black hair, as dark and mysterious as the night itself, was up in an elegant crown of luscious curls.

She recalled her mother being simple in matters of the hair. If her hair wasn't down, free, and flowing, then it was up, sealed, and out of the way. It was never in between except on special occasions. And the only person who had ever compelled her to do something different was her husband, Gema's father.

So who had convinced the woman this time, or did she finally want something complex for herself?

"Come, my house is nearby. You can't stay out here alone and like this," Davina said, and Gema could only follow.

Even the journey was a bit of a blur. Gema could vaguely remember the blur of houses passing by, their outlines hazy and indistinct. Davina's black hair stood out like a beacon of clarity. Gema's gaze fixated on each curl, tracing its path across Davina's head, letting herself fall under the allure of the intricate art.

Her name resounded like an echo as she blinked. Opening her eyes, Gema found herself before an open door, beckoned by Davina's gestures.

She nodded and took a few steps in, only to stop at the periphery when the light came on. The room was a bright shade of yellow, with various flowers painted on it. Overhead, cutouts of crowns and scepters dangled from one corner to another. The walls seemed to emit their own light, contrasting perfectly with the light above.

It wasn't a surprise. It was exactly what Gema would have expected. Her mother was the epitome of all things bright. Whatever shade she used, it was the brighter version, and that was something Gema knew she had taken from her mother. They shared a love for bright colors.

What shocked her, however, was seeing it again.

The room had an uncanny resemblance to her room back at the castle. Everything was the same, down to the flowers painted. Gema could tell the history of every flower that adorned the wall. She'd heard it so many times from her mother, that she could almost hear her voice in her head, reciting it.

"You should sit while I brew you some tea."

Like a man trapped in a siren's spell, Gema did as she said. Her eyes continued their assessment of the room when Davina left. Although the resemblance was striking, there was one missing detail.

Handprints.

Gema and her mother had never considered themselves artists, yet they were bursting with excitement as they envisioned the transformation of her room. They had an array of colorful ideas swirling in their minds, each more vibrant than the last, about how to make the space uniquely hers. However, when they finally dipped their brushes into the paint, a harsh realization set in—their hands were clumsy, untrained, and ill-suited for the delicate art of painting. Disheartened but not defeated, they called upon the palace servants to bring their visions to life with breathtaking flair.

Gema's mother observed, her eyes wide with fascination, as she absorbed every technique, every stroke, and every detail that the craftsmen executed so effortlessly.

When they had finished, her mother suggested they leave their own mark too.

"Here," Davina said, bringing two cups of tea. The scent wafted up Gema's nose, and she closed her eyes to take it in. If it scented this lovely, like clouds and breeze, she was sure it would taste as such.

"Thanks," she said and took a sip, moaning lightly in response. "This place looks lovely."

"Thank you. With Dwin Rhiena coming up, I also want to raise the cheer, but it seems I've not done enough. Like something is missing," Davina said as she settled on the sofa next to Gema.

Gema finally remembered why the crown-like decorations were familiar. They were the signature sign of the occasion of Dwin Rhiena. The birthday of the First Queen. That first queen was Karyn.

In more accurate terms, it was Dwin Rhiea, since Karyn was still a princess and not a coronated queen, but the people had been so excited when she was born and were already referring to her as the First Queen from birth.

"It is beautiful."

"Thank you, but we have to talk about you. What's going on?" Davina asked, raising a brow.

Though Davina said she didn't believe Gema was her daughter, as she never remembered being pregnant or ever giving birth, she would always treat Gema well.

"I... I did something I promised myself not to and now I've done it, I can't get it out of my head. And yes, I—" Gema's voice cracked. "I feel... terrible, but again—No it was wrong." Strands of her red hair flew across her face as she shook her head. "It was wrong. I shouldn't have done it, but... I can't help but feel..."

"Some excitement," Davina completed for Gema, and she glanced at her mother. Then Davina asked, "Why did you promise not to do it?"

"I hurt some people when I did and now I've done it again."

"Done," Davina started, but Gema only frowned.

"Huh?"

"Done. It's in the past. See Gema, humans are complex beings, yet the past remains simple. It can serve as a remarkable source of growth or an incessant obstacle. Every experience from our past holds the potential can either be for us or against us. The difference is what we choose it to be. Are we going to let our mistakes define us, or are we going to define them? We can either use it or be used by it."

"But how can I learn from this? It's something I don't want to do again. What's there to learn?" Gema said, increasing her grip on the cup, its hotness a mere tickle compared to the simmering heat nestling within her.

How could she have done this again?

"It's okay to feel angry with yourself," Davina said. "You set a rule for yourself and you broke it. If you weren't feeling angry, then that would be a problem. If you're feeling bad now, then that terrible feeling has been with you ever since. You just couldn't recognize it because you got swept up in the excitement."

Davina stood, taking her now empty cup with her. She looked down at hers, which was still full.

"How about you stay here for the night? It only gets colder at night here during this time of the year. I'm sure along with the tea, a good night's rest might just make you feel better," Davina smiled, one reminiscent of Gema's own.

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ANGRY cries trailed behind them as they stumbled around hand-in-hand, with leaves flying and whooshing with them as they ran. Turns out the name Sahsa was one they shouldn't have insisted on.

After Gema left in a hurry, Zack offered they make inquiries as soon as possible. Although it was his hometown, he seemed not to want to stay for long. She hadn't questioned it and agreed to the opportunity to spend time together. They tried the pub first.

Zack had skillfully woven the topic into a casual exchange with another patron, his voice smooth and unassuming. Nearby, the bartender—a woman with a commanding presence—shared her thoughts loudly, her words echoing off the walls of the bar, ensuring that every corner could catch her vibrant commentary. But their luck had run out when another man concluded that they were working for him.

"If yer not for him, why do yer keep asking?"

"They want to know our thoughts so they can report back to their boss."

"Yeh! They must be working for him!"

"Hoi! Your boss owes me a mild quin! I can get it from you, eh!"

Zack had tried to explain but in the blink of an eye, the entire bar was against them, drunken eyes, red with rage, teeth bared in scornful determination and it hadn't taken a while before Zack gave the command, Run. Karyn didn't need to think twice, Her Sense had already told her.

"These men are crazy!" Karyn yelled as they dodged a cart, with Zack pushing it behind them to topple over and block their path. She glanced back to see some men jumping over it with no hesitation.

"Why do they think we know him even? We're just as clueless about their money as they are," she panted, her words broken by ragged breaths.

It was only after some twists and turns that Zack pulled them into an alley. Light didn't shine as much into the area, creating a perfect veil of the right amount of darkness.

While Zack had his head turned to the side to check for any incoming men, she couldn't help but notice their proximity. With her heart thrashing in her chest, she couldn't tell if it was from the race or their sudden proximity.

The cries subdued and she could hear them fading in the distance, yet her eyes remained on his face. The thrill of being so close to him was intoxicating, filling her with a sense of adventure and possibility.

"They're gone." He breathed a sigh of relief and moved to step back. "We should find our way back to—" She cut him off when she pulled his shirt, dragging him closer till there was no space between them. With their lips inches apart, she met him halfway, her rising to her toes and him ducking to her height.

She didn't know if it was the adrenaline of it all, but she loved it ten times more. She held onto his collar as his hands snaked her waist, taking her back from the wall and bringing her front closer to his.

Lost in their frenzy, they hadn't noticed a window open atop them some meters to their side. Only when the person spoke out did they pull apart.

"Well, well, well. Look who's brought home a girl."

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ITNC: Karyn encounters two intriguing characters from Zack's past, sparking her curiosity about the potential for a future with him.

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The Sparkling Authoress,
Mis. A
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