I didn’t have to work the following day but decided to go into the city anyway. After my most recent magical accomplishment the night before, I was hungry for more. I figured the best place for that would be the library. Aris decided to tag along this time. Despite having been alive for as long as he had, Aris had read a shockingly small amount of literature.

“You do know how to read don’t you?” I teased playfully as we neared the library.

“Very funny,” he rolled his eyes, “I read just fine, thank you very much,” he retorted sarcastically.

We separated once inside as I made my way towards the historical section of the library, unsure of what exactly I was looking for. Aris had scoffed, deeming history boring and went on towards the back of the library. I shrugged him off and began perusing the historical literature. While I was hoping to find something along the lines of magical theory and practice, a different title of a large leather-bound book caught my eye.

Disgrace of a City: A Complete History of the Age of Oppression

“Age of oppression,” I reread the title under my breath. I grabbed the book off the shelf and followed the direction Aris had walked off. I found him tucked away in a reading nook leaned back with his feet up on a chair reading a small book with a title written in the ancient tongue on the front. I sat the book down on the table and sat down across from him.

“What have we here?” he asked, sitting upright and leaning towards me. I watched as he scanned the title.

“What was the age of oppression?” I asked.

“The time when fear of magic was at its highest. Mages were being persecuted at alarming rates. Mass executions, the king was on the warpath. People were killed under the mere suspicion of being a mage.”

“That’s horrible,” I looked down at the book again and traced the emblazoned letters on the front. “Was the overthrow by King Sayorn the end of it then?”

“It was the beginning,” Aris conceded. “But look around you Rose, the effects are still very much present today. Why else are people so private about their use of magic or affiliation with mages? Even we-” he paused and met my gaze, “are reminded daily of the remnants of that age.”

“So, there was a time when nobody would’ve cared about a mage and a shadow walker being out and about together?” I asked.

“So, I’ve been told,” he sighed, “but not that I’ve ever experienced.” I nodded. We both settled into our books. About an hour into reading, I came across a section entitled Methods of Purification. It began as an introduction to the intention and applications of such rituals. I felt my heart sink as the words on the page began to sound familiar.

While there are many variations, the following is standard protocol for interrogations. The accused will be brought into a sacred space, made hot with fire, and restrained accordingly. Upon restraining, the accused shall be made to stand in the middle of a salt ring and given zyteir*, as no evil can remain in its presence.

I scanned down to the bottom of the page and found the definition of the of foreign word.

*A liquid mixture with a high concentration of salt

I flashed back to the mixture I was made to drink during my trial and felt a numbness on my tongue. I continued reading.

It is important that all persons present be properly protected and concealed from the evil that resides within the accused. After the zeityr is consumed, interrogation of the accused may begin.

In the likely event that the accused is found guilty, a purification of the soul will be performed. Many resorted to fire but there was no lack in creativity of the purification methods used throughout the years.

Below that was a small list of the different ways souls were purified. I sat back for a moment in shock at what I had just read. Wren’s Glen is nothing less than a preservation of the age of oppression.

“You alright?” Aris asked, looking up from his book.

I pointed to the passage I had just finished reading.

“Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” he joked, “let’s see,” he scanned the list with his index finger, “ah yes, here it is.”

I read where his finger rested and saw the words

piercing the heart with a sanctified dagger.

I looked up in horror at Aris, but he chuckled. Then seeing my expression, he softened.

“Come, let’s take a break.” He shut the book for me and returned it to its place on the shelf.

He held my hand as we walked out of the library.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I nodded. “I am, it’s just astounding to me, the entire village was based on such horrendous ideology.”

He nodded solemnly.

“How do you manage it?” I asked.

He looked perplexed. “Manage what?”

“It’s just so...so infuriating. You were killed over these ridiculous beliefs.”

He shot me a confused glance. “Do you mean how do I manage now?” I cringed ever so slightly, I supposed he hadn’t managed well at all after he was killed.

“Yes,” I answered, playing it off.

He shrugged. “I figure I either move on with my existence or I ruminate in it. I don’t think I need to explain why the latter is not ideal”

I smirked and nodded.

“You have every right to be angry, Rose,” he explained, “what was done to you in that village was unforgivable. Whatever rage you carry from it is completely justified.”

I smiled weakly. Maybe I had been denying myself the anger at what had been done to me. “Perhaps I should’ve killed them after all,” I stated, searching his eyes for a reaction.

I had intended the comment in jest but he looked at me with complete sincerity and said, “I wouldn’t have blamed you in the slightest if you had.”

I grinned and leaned my head on his arm for a moment. I was lucky to have Aris. He understood me more than anyone else in the city would ever be capable of.

“Rose?” I heard my name called from behind me.

I whipped around and saw Simon. “Hey Simon,” I greeted. I watched his expression shift as he noticed Aris standing beside me.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, dropping his voice lower. He cautiously approached me as though I were a venomous snake that might lunge at him at any moment.

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

His eyes darted from me to Aris and then back again. Aris looked thoroughly amused at the amount of discomfort he was causing Simon.

“It’s just, um- Deja told me you left pretty suddenly yesterday, she seemed worried that something might be wrong.”

“Tell Deja I’m fine! I feel bad about how I left yesterday. I’ll explain everything when I see her next.”

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, glancing sideways at Aris once more.

“Relax. Simon, is it?” Aris interrupted.

Simon went pale at hearing his name uttered by a shadow walker. “Rose is not in any danger, certainly not any from the likes of me.”

Simon straightened up and found his voice. “And who are you?” As if he and every other healer at the apothecary didn’t already know about the girl living with the shadow walker.

“Name’s Aris, pleasure to meet you.” His voice dripped in a sarcastically sweet tone. He extended his hand, Simon backed away, a look of disgust in his face. It made me angry.

“What exactly are you even doing with her?” He almost sounded like a concerned father.

I rolled my eyes. “Come on Aris, let’s go.” But before I could turn Aris continued.

“No, it’s fine, love.” He grinned devilishly at me as he put emphasis on the word love. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Rose and I are… what’s the word you mortals use… dating? Involved? In a relationship?” I looked at my feet and stifled a laugh.

Simon glared coldly at me.

“Now if you don’t mind, we were having a lovely afternoon that I’d very much like to get back to.”

Simon ignored Aris’ words and faced me once more. “I’m glad you’re alright, I’ll see you at work.” He touched my arm as he spoke and then turned and walked away.

“So that’s Simon…” Aris grinned, “you were right, I had nothing to worry about.”

I laughed. “I hadn’t realized he was so bothered by shadow walkers.”

He shrugged.

“Why don’t we go home and make this afternoon even more lovely?” I teased, lacing my arms around him and pulling myself onto my toes to kiss him. I heard a few people scoff behind me but paid them no mind.

Aris broke the kiss for a moment, “That sounds perfect,” he answered before kissing me back.

I smiled in the faces of those who condemned our union as we turned to leave. I was with the man I loved. I was hardly about to let the scorn of strangers take that happiness from me.

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