Chapter 93

Chapter 92: Heading to the Shrine

Snow crusted the porch steps in a neat white rim, the early morning light striking the runes carved into each brick and setting them to a faint, steady glow. Lanterns hung from every doorway nearby, their small etched runes catching the light and turning it to silver. Between houses, long bands of dark blue and silver ribbon had been strung, fluttering overhead and throwing shifting shadows across the lane. The whole compound smelled of woodsmoke, pine, and the sharp sweetness of spiced pastries being prepared for later.

Sophia walked up the path with her cloak wrapped tight. Her breath worked in small puffs and the sound of it seemed loud in the quiet, ritual-stillness of the neighborhood. She had just gotten to Brynhild’s home but her steps faltered a bit.

Brynhild’s porch was already occupied. The braids at Brynhild’s temples, brushed the wool of her collar where they escaped their bindings. Brynhild sat upright in a wheelchair now: a low-backed, sturdy chair carved from hard wood and fitted with thick leather straps and broad runners to ride over the snow. Potted herbs sat on either side of the porch, and the rocking chair though empty day there.

Lysander was just easing a small wrapped parcel into Brynhild’s lap. He moved with the slow, precise care of a medic who knew what could set a patient ill. Even his grumble as he secured the parcel sounded like care.

“Good morning,” Lysander said as his gaze snagged on Sophia.

Brynhild, sniffed the air a bit before her lips curled up in a smile. She didn’t even give Sophia a chance to reply to Lysander’s greeting. “Sophia,” she said warmly. “Come closer. What are you doing here p>

Sophia hurried onto the porch and took the unoccupied step by the doorway. Up close, she could see the faint scars at Brynhild’s jaw and the tiny creases where Lysander’s fingers had pressed the fur-lined cloak into place. Brynhild’s hands, callused and strong, rested in her lap where Lysander had set the parcel.

“I came to see you.” Sophia told her. “Where are you two headed?” Sophia asked.

“To the outer shrine,” Brynhild said simply.

“What’s the wheelchair for?” Sophia asked curiously p>

“Since I’m on bed rest, I can’t strain myself too much so I need to use this. Lysander will push while I get to relax for the first time in a while.” Brynhild told her.

“In a while? You’ve been resting for days now and besides, I told you to do it before but you refused.” Lysander told her.

Brynhild ignored him and turned go to Sophia. “Do you want go come with us?” She asked her.

Sophia hesitated. “I shouldn’t intrude,” she started. “This is for the families who lost p>

Brynhild’s laugh was short and incredulous. “Not everyone who goes has lost kin, though.” She tapped the parcel with a knuckle. “People go for lots of reasons. To leave a favorite thing, to ask for a favor, to give thanks for a life that went well. You can come if you want. The shrine listens to more than just grief p>

Lysander chuckled. “Love, are you spending too much time with Madam Tyler?” He asked Brynhild.

“What do you mean?” She asked him confused.

“You said something that she’s very likely to say. ’the shrine listens to more than just grief.’” he said mimicking her.

“And you are spending too much time with Orion and the others.” She told him.

“I’ve always spent too much time with them.” Lysander said to her with a chuckle but the chuckle sounded a bit sad to Sophia.

Brynhild patted his hands then turned to Sophia. “So…are you going to come?” She asked her.

“I don’t know. It’s tradition and Sophia began, taking a reflexive step away, suddenly conscious of how small and untested she felt among them.

“What are you going to do alone if you don’t come with us? I reckon it’ll be boring. The library isn’t opened so you can’t go there too.” Brynhild told her.

The invitation settled around Sophia. She swallowed once and nodded. “All right. I’ll come p>

Lysander rose and eased the wheelchair forward until the runners caught the first step but he adjusted it and the wheelchair slid with a soft creak over packed snow. Brynhild’s cloak billowed for a moment with the motion, revealing the twin sword hilts at her hips tucked neatly away, a habit Sophia had learned not to be surprised by.

They stepped off the porch, and the path out of the compound opened before them. People were already moving along it: some going toward the shrine, some returning from it with small bundles and bowed heads. Lanterns lined up the path way. They were just like the decorations that she had seen at people’s houses. Each linked with the same cloth.

Sophia felt something like a current tug through the crowd, the sort of rhythm that insists you match step. She had no idea that there will be a lot of people right now. There was a huge line forming at their back and even their front. Guards were gathered too. It was all so organized that she was even a bit surprised. Some people returning from the shrine greeted Brynhild and Lysander, a child she’d played with some time back even greeted Sophia with a smile.

Sophia kept close to Brynhild’s wheelchair and Lysander’s side though as if one wring step and she’d get lost although with how organized things were, she doubted it.

As they moved, forward a guard stepped forward too counting the amount of people along with another guard.

One stood by their left and the other stood by their right.

“We’ll be your escorts to the shrine.” He told us.

Immediately he said it, Brynhild turned to them, with narrowed eyes. “We don’t need any escort.” She told them. “I can fend off anything that comes our way p>

Lysander sighed. “Come on love, you are not in any position to do anything stressful. You know that, do stop being stubborn p>

“I’m not being stubborn.” She told him with a huff.

“Yes you are. You can’t endanger our child. You promised me that.” He told her.