That evening I made my way to one of the largest eating areas in the Seedling Palace. Three wide branches had grown so close together that they fused into one multilevel, gently sloped platform. Five cooking stones dominated the middle of the platform with two cooks working at each one. One of the fused branches rose higher than the main branch while the opposite one dipped and then rose, so that the eating area had mostly raised spaces to settle in, unless you didn't mind the bustle around the cooking stones. The one lower area was reserved for higher ranking whisper women and pine needles were woven in a draping, decorative screen over the space to protect it from prying eyes.

I never came here. Instead, I typically chose one of the smaller eating areas with less people and clamor. But I could endure the attention and the noise if it meant my plan had a higher chance of working. Not that I was particularly nervous to stand in front of a crowd and speak. That part was simple. The annoying part would come after, when people thought that by speaking to the crowd I was also welcoming them to speak to me. Still, if they could spread rumors and bad nicknames, I could tell a story.

People noticed as I strode through the crowd. Second glances, murmurs, raised eyebrows followed in my wake as I walked, but my glare at least seemed to be functioning well enough to keep would be pestering annoyances at bay. The attention wasn't gratifying. It felt hollow. After all, it was built upon rumors and half-truths with no true respect in the crowd's wide eyed stares. I was a disturbance, a novelty, a distraction for them. Nothing that truly inspired awe or fear. I was a fun thing to speculate about, for them to wonder what they might have done in my place in Flickermark or against the water snake, what they could do if they didn't need to fear dying.

For them there weren't any consequences. I was here to give them one.

I had every mark on display. Seven diamonds on my left thigh, apprentice and poisoner marks on my wrist, the Beloved's pine branches stretching across my collar bones, three dots beneath my chin, black lips. And when I stopped, I stood in shadow so my eye glittered like a night sky.

Hiding the marks hadn't worked as intended, so I decided to lean on the authority they gave me instead. The story others could infer by seeing them all together. To do it, I had to wear the most impractical dress I ever laid eyes on. It had a slit nearly to my waist and off the shoulder sleeves that didn't even cover my whole arm. The only acceptable thing about it was that it was a dark gray and it did what it was intended to do. Apparently, Ziek ran a brisk business modifying clothes to show off bless marks and the like, and she had already been toying with the challenge of designing something for me.

It was discomforting to suddenly have an unknown outfit fit so well, though she did have to make a few adjustments, as well as accepting this new information about the normally warrior-like whisper woman. It didn't match the view I had of her, but there was no denying her skill, even if I wondered how she found the time amidst everything else she did.

Nor had I expected reaching out to Ingrasia to see if she knew where to find something to wear besides my regular pants and tunic would immediately result in a custom dress. I could have made something on my own, but it would have been crude and I hadn't wanted to spend the time on making it. I'd also originally only been looking for something to show off my bless mark, to remind the other whisper women I was like them, and while I could have just left the custom flap open on my pants…that felt more like forgetting to tie up my britches after using the latrine than making a purposeful statement.

So I walked barefoot through the crowds, hair loose for once to play into the impracticality of it all, and stopped on a shadowed ledge above the crowd gathered around the cooking stones, in full view of any whisper woman who cared to look. The shadow would only make it difficult for fire starters and baby seedlings to see me and they weren't my focus.

Ingrasia was perched on the railing behind me, and Ziek looked proud at her creation next to her. Jin could have been down in the secluded section as the Commander's second but I had caught a glance of her on a rised section across the way. Kaylan, Esie, and her sister, Yeelan, were at another spot finishing their meal. Melka and Beet from Hattie's squad, and others I recognized were spread throughout the space. Everyone had to eat and most people in the Seedling Palace chose to eat here.

This whole charade was for them. For everyone who whispered about the Little Love. Just for this evening I would be her and they all could confront what would mean.

I pulled two small sling rocks from the pouch on my thin belt—one that had only the barest of necessities. The pouch, my eating knife, and prayer needle. Everything else had been stashed away in Mishtaw's home as the Little Love wasn't likely to need everything else I stored in my poisoner's pouch and extra pouches.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The clash of the two stones against each other was similar enough to an Echo's rhythm sticks that the conversation still buzzing around the eating platform ceased quickly. Everyone but the handful from Picker bands knew that sound meant to shut up and pay attention, and those few that didn't were quick to pick up on the sudden wave of silence.

"Once a group of people made a wish to end the Era of Night."

I didn't have the trick to amplify my voice using the wind, but I made it carry, strong and steady, well enough on my own.

"They spoke their own destruction into being and called it their savior."

I'd never considered being the storyteller before now. That was reserved for Grandmothers and I was never going to gain that position, but I had paid attention to how my tribe's Grandmother would tell each one. The pacing and pauses, the breaths and when Grandmother would lean in like she was telling us all a secret. The knowledge was wrapped up in my story collection in the memory tent, and when I would repeat the myths and legends to keep them fresh in my memory I had practiced her techniques with them. Before the words had been the most important, but already I was getting the sense of how the telling of it would influence the crowd. If I went too fast the important parts would meld together and lose their impact, and if I went too slow their attention would wander. If I stumbled and hesitated I'd be seen as nothing but a jumped up novice.

I liked my time alone but, if I got this right, it felt like I might get my first taste of real respect. If I got it right it'd be the first thing that couldn't be dismissed by my healer's background or my blessing. I knew how to cut with my words; now I needed to shape the crowd's opinion with them.

If they wanted to make a myth out of me, then I was going to make sure they storming knew the kind of tale they were telling. Perhaps then they'd find it wasn't one they wanted to perpetuate after all. Perhaps they'd remember it didn't always take the goddess's wrath to go poorly.

"A being of fire and ash. A great beast with a snarling maw that could swallow the Palace whole and burning paws each the size of a lake." Crack. "One tribe gone underfoot. Burned and crushed before they could scream." Crack. "Two." Crack. Crack. Crack. "Five whole tribes gone in five steps."

I surveyed the crowd and let the words hang in the air. Most uncomfortable, some even horrified. Others curious or indifferent, but no one broke the silence. No one pressed me to continue even as anticipation rose. They wanted to know what I was building towards, even those who already knew the tale. Would my story land well with the crowd or would I fail?

"It was powerful. Terrible. The wish makers spoke their folly and paid dearly."

I shifted my rocks into one hand and used my free hand to prick my bless mark with my prayer needle. Then I swiped the welling blood across each cheek and down over my lips and Flickermark dots. When everyone was focused on my lips and glittering face, I slipped the rocks back into their pouch. I knew the dots glimmered from the blood without needing to see them, matching my eye. However, that wasn't what caused most of the crowd to shift in discomfort. I also knew the risk in bloodying my lips as it was a step too close to declaring myself a blood speaker, but I was here to make a statement and blood spoken words held power. If they wanted to declare me a favorite of the Beloved or our goddess, it was something well within my power to do even if it was near sacrilege as just a seedling.

"But the goddess decides when the night ends. The great beast could do nothing against Her trees as they grew from snout to tail tip and ground him into the dirt, root by overlapping root. Struggle was pointless. Now that beast of ash and fire is trampled on every day by the clans who have made his trapped head their home.

"However, the story does not end there. They became the first shamble men and were punished for their wish by both monster and goddess. The first with their death and second denying access to relief in the Silver Forest. We still pay for their arrogance. Five days to perform a proper ceremony or our dead joins the shamble men's ranks."

The goddess's wrath might not always be needed for a situation to go poorly, but it didn't hurt to remind them that Her wrath always came in the end—and that for Her death was a poor punishment.

I smiled wanly. "Some words and the entire world changed."

Anticipation had seeped into apprehension and I had to keep a real smile from my lips. Part of me was also surprised that Jin or one of her lackeys hadn't stopped me yet, but perhaps they were waiting to see if I'd hang myself with the rope they didn't take away. As I spoke again I trailed my hands up past my pine branch tattoo, near the stars on my chin and in my eye, and swept them back down again near my bless mark, palms up, before I spread my arms wide. All incidental, just a grand welcoming gesture to bring the crowd together.

"Her pines and night might be eternal, but perhaps if some fools hadn't thought they knew better than Her we'd all have more time to mourn. We wouldn't have to fear stolen souls or for those lost to storms. Not all thoughts have to be spoken."

Hopefully that was warning enough. I didn't like playing into the idea of being the Little Love, but if I borrowed the nickname's implied authority and got everyone to stop saying it just in case they provoked the goddess into action, that was a win. Less talk meant focus could shift elsewhere and I could figure out what I wanted to do next without the nickname adding pressure.

I didn't linger. Questions and accusations would only lessen the image I had crafted. The crowd parted as I strode back through them. Pensive, thinking, which was also better than carefree gossip. Still, I glanced up as I passed by where Jin sat and I didn't like what I saw. She was her disheveled self—jacket half falling off, hair messy, the only other person barefoot. But she didn't look displeased to see me or annoyed at my stunt.

Instead, she looked mildly pleased as if I had given her a small, unexpected gift. Unease flitted behind my ribs seeing that, but now wasn't the time to confront her. I could review everything I said and did later when the crowd's gaze no longer tracked my every move.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.