The Orb of Wrath

by Nic Weissman

Ronu finished dressing and went out to run errands. Her mother had asked her to go to pick up a dress that was at the seamstress who lived two streets below. It was a beautiful day. Not like the previous week, when it had rained every day. The archipelago of the Kingdom of Tylar was usually a very rainy place. But Ronu liked to go out for a walk in the streets in the autumn evenings, even on rainy days.

  The young woman flew down the stairs of her home leading to the street, but carefully, as not to step on the long skirt of her dress. It was a beautiful green ensemble, made of fine silk, which matched her large eyes. The dress was very light and usually wasn't too hot, even at the high temperatures of those days on the Island of Megara.

  Tylar was a hot country with a tropical climate. Exiting any of its cities was almost always synonymous with entering a lush forest that stretched as far as the eye could see. Enormous broad-leaf trees made the progress through those lands difficult. The roads connecting the different populations required constant maintenance to prevent vegetation making them disappear, literally.

  Life was quiet in the city of Bergen. Although it was a very large city, everything moved slowly there. Things were different in the cities of the coast, with all the activity of the ports, trade and transport. Ronu liked the hustle and had decided long ago that one day, she would move to a city on the coast. She loved living in her country, one of the most prosperous in the world of Oris, especially because of the export of handicrafts and fine woods, and partly because of commercial activities. Tylar's fleet controlled part of the trade by sea on the south coast since before the Great Alliance. But their city, primarily dedicated to logging and jewelry, was too quiet for her.

  She was young and had time. She had just turned nineteen. Several of her friends were already married and one was even expecting her first child. But she was in no hurry. Unless the right guy came along, of course. He would have to be from the coast. She loved the sea. She always remembered the magical moment when she saw the sea for the first time, when she was ten. Since then, every year she had sought a way to convince her mother to spend part of the summer vacation somewhere offshore. Usually, it was only for a couple of weeks. But Ronu looked forward to those weeks all year long.

  “Until next time, Ronu,” a lady greeted from across the street.

  “Goodbye,” Ronu said, gesturing with her hand.

  It was Mrs. Mephinosa, a friend of her mother; a little nosy but harmless. She used to go occasionally to drink tea with her mom. They always chatted for a long time. She tried to find some work to do to be away from home on those evenings. So the interrogation was avoided. “And when are you getting married, my child? Have you finished preparing your outfit? Where do you go Tuesday afternoon? I always see you walking past the Central Square.”

  She had arrived at the seamstress. She was a very old and very hardworking lady. She liked working women. But the lady was too old. One should have the right to rest upon reaching a certain age. She decided to rush to finish her task. This way, she'd have time to stroll along the avenue of the Poplars before returning home.