Of Two Suns

iii

Three days. It had rained for three days, with hardly any reprieve. Telyl, the Goddess of Storms, must have been laughing at them, watching in delight as the river rose to touch its banks and the town's fountain overflowed.

Rheon had left the day before for Riverfell, having accepted the work order. He would hopefully reach the city some time the following day, if the weather permitted. Ryla wasn't certain how long this trip would be, and hadn't yet decided if she needed to worry for him.

Even with the streets of Perneah watered down, the village people did their best to carry on with their lives. Ryla had gone across town to the bakery earlier in the day for some bread, and to free Myricha from her duties for an hour or so.

Unfortunately, that was all Ryla could find for herself to do. With the weather so bleak, she was unable to visit the temple; those who had built it had not considered an extended roof to take cover from the elements. Telyl also had a habit of neglecting to spare the Sun Brothers.

In her room, Ryla was seated on her bed. Its small frame stood only a foot or so off of the ground, and was placed neatly against the wall fitted with the only window. She stared out of that window, watching the raindrops that tapped at the glass. Something about the grey sky, the damp chill in the air, and the warmth of her teacup in her palms had her craving sleep. Even if she hadn't done much of anything the last few days, she was still left yawning as sleep threatened her.

The glass was cool against her skin as she rested her temple against it. She watched as her neighbours made their ways home from their daily lives, preoccupied with trying to stay dry. As she watched, her mind slipped into a memory of a similar storm. Her mother had come to fetch her from Myricha's home, and had gotten distracted while talking to Myricha's mother. They had talked for so long that Rheon had eventually come to find all of them. After he'd arrived, they'd all decided to eat supper in Myricha's home. It had been cramped with all six of them, yet so enjoyable. She could remember all four parents staying seated around the table, sipping tea after finishing their suppers as the two girls played by the hearth. It had been the very first time Ryla's mother had been to that house; the first time Myricha's human parents had let an Elf into their home.

The sound of Myricha's voice stirred Ryla, and she sat up from her slouch against the window. She blinked rapidly, realizing she must have fallen asleep. With a start, she looked down to the cup in her hands; she sighed in relief when she found it hadn't spilled.

The sound of Myricha's voice again drew Ryla's attention, along with the sounds of her fists banging against the house's front door. Ryla was quick to make her way down the stairs, holding her tea cup against her chest as she opened the door. Standing on the front step, Myricha panted rapidly as the rain soaked her. Her eyes were wide, her chest heaving in her panic.

"What's wrong?" Ryla asked quickly.

Myricha held Ryla's eyes with her own as her voice came out in a whisper, "Fire."

Ryla blinked at her friend, unsure she had heard her correctly. "What do you mean, fire?"

"Fire. Everywhere." Myricha's voice rose just as tears started to fall from her eyes. "Perneah's on fire."

"What do you mean-"

"I mean, the village is on fire!" Myricha's voice ascended into a shriek. "Everything is burning! The bakery is in flames, the smithery too. My whole neighbourhood's-" A sob choked her words.

Ryla was quick to wrap her arms around her friend. A second later, they were pulling away from each other. "We have to put it out."

Myricha shook her head. "There's strangers in the village, Ryla. They're setting the fires."