MALIN DRASWIST IS TOO YOUNG. With the advent of the new king of Cardina and the control of the state relinquished to Synketros, a covert organization bent on harnessing power, things took the turn for the worse. When soldiers start a siege against t...
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2412, Iclis 02, Reshpe
The sun beat down on Malin's head as usual. Walking under the glare of the afternoon sun was expected to be scorching hot, with sweat dousing every inch of skin in his form. Even through the occasional breaks afforded by the shadows of the tall estates, heat climbed from the half-baked cobblestones, fanning his face with humid air.
He huffed, drawing his cloak tighter around his arms and his hood over his face lower. If he removed this smothering blanket, he would go back to the Temple fried to the bone. The peeling skin and the stinging burns that would follow the next few weeks was not a time Malin wanted to go back to.
Two more sets of footsteps joined him. Unlike him, not a cloak covered them. As if they're not afraid of the sun like he was. Pilqen, grateful to be out of Master Yarin's torturous lessons—his words, not Malin's—rubbed the back of his head. The sweat his palm caught glistened against the light. "I cannot believe I forgot how hot it was out here," he said, tone bordering on whining. Master Yarin had enough liturgy about complaining about one's circumstance, so Malin didn't want to add into it. "It is still a long way to the trading square, right?"
"As if you have not been there before, you lazy bum," Elazie snapped from Malin's right. The tail of her reddish-brown hair tied up slapped against her back as she walked with a slight bounce. They tackled the forest at the rim of the road, flanking the rest of the Nobility region and the major route through Cardina. "The trading square is due east, past the forest. If we see the line of snedil trees, it means we are close."
She tapped a hand against her chin in thought. "If it is closer to the dry season rather than the storms, it means the snedil would be alight with blue."
Pilqen must be questioning how and why on Umazure he was friends with two know-it-alls with the wince he threw Elazie's way. "Do you not stop yapping about trees, Ela?" he asked.
Malin tapped the back of his hand against the boy's shoulder. "Lay off, man."
"You are no better, doofus," Pilqen slapped Malin's hand away. "All you do is to lecture me about stars and the moons."
Malin stuck a lip out. "It is a great branch of study," he said. "I still have yet to pinpoint the course and picture of the sky over Umazure each night of the year since the tomes do not really do it justice. Who knows? Maybe I can discover more stars. I will make sure to name one after you."
It seemed to thaw the boy when a smirk tore his lips open. "Now, why would you do that for plain ol' me?" Pilqen scoffed. Then, he jabbed a finger into both Malin and Elazie's faces. "It still stands. No lecturing when I am with you two. Especially when I am with you two."
"This is also why Master Yarin is frustrated with you," Malin muttered under his breath. Pilqen heard it—that much Malin was sure of, but his friend never commented on nor acknowledged it. Time passed in silence after that, with all three of them lost inside their own heads.
