The Lost Heir's

Chapter Six

The city was coated in pristine snow, bathing the crude walls in a sheet of untouched white that glittered in the morning sun. The cloth awning above the street-side stalls straining under the weight of fresh powder that still fell from the sky. Aria looked up at the sky, a featureless, un-moving steel blur that blocked out the sun. She felt a snowflake land on her cheek, a sudden chill as the ice quickly melted against her skin.

With a sigh, Aria began to walk down the path, wet snow sloshing beneath her feet. Through the winding backstreets, she passed other citizens, most dressed in shabby rags or leather jerkins. Aria pulled the hood tighter to her face as she stepped onto the main street, the sound of the bustle reaching her ears. On the main road, carts and carriages flew by with the clatter of the horse’s steel-shod hooves against the brick road. The baying of merchants at their stalls echoed over the chatter of the city’s citizens.

Aria joined the flow of traffic, listening intently to the sounds of the city. Her eyes were alert, conscious of any eyes that might be on her when hers landed on one of the glass windows of a shop. She glanced into the glass window and saw her reflection, shimmering against the hue of the glass; blonde hair, tanned skin and beautiful blue eyes peered out from under the hood. But for only a second, the visage shimmered again, revealing her true face.

Pale skin, violet iris, and hair whiter than the snow falling from the sky.

She looked away, making sure no one saw what she did, sighing softly, relaxing when she saw that no one had paid her any attention. She quickened her pace until the merchant district was well behind her, when she heard a sound, not of horses or vendors, but a sonorous voice that called for silence of all others.

“My brothers and sisters!” the voice intoned. “We stand at a precipice!”

Aria stopped at the corner and looked down the adjacent street to see the city square. An immensely, beautifully crafted fountain sat as the centerpiece. All around it, a throng of people gathered, the voice coming from the front of the mass.

“People of Vizara, the time is nigh! For the stars foretell the end.” The voice grew louder, becoming a shout as the crowd grew quiet.

Aria approached curiously, pulling her hood tighter to her face as she entered the crowd. She never fully understood why humans had events every day. She pushed through the crowd until she reached the front, where she found herself face to face with a man garbed in scarlet robes and white cowls. A symbol of a ring of fire surrounding a diamond with a cross in the middle emblazoned on their breasts. She looked behind the grim-faced men, and atop the fountain, she noticed a man dressed in a severe black cassock and red stole. He raised his hands high over his head, palms up to the sky.