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Tanwen was under the control of the king as well now, which was why Sage’s family had left when he imposed the Church of Baleros as the state religion, only to find themselves in the same situation in Ifreann.
The Church of Baleros condemned those who followed the ways of any of the old religions from before the Collapse. Before the invasion of Tanwen, women had power there. They could choose their own clothing (Bryn would have loved to wear something other than skirts and with color!) or control over their own bodies (the brothel wasn’t sinful so much for the sex as it was that women were allowed to choose who they gave their bodies to and earn a living while doing it).
However, the other rules of the church were for everyone. It was sinful for anyone to have an affinity with animals or nature in a worshipful way, no mind-altering substances could be consumed, and they must all worship Balor twice a day.
They stopped the sacrifice of a farm animal once a month on a religious pyre (not the ones used for the deceased) to the god who supposedly saved the world shortly after the Collapse. Killing the livestock turned out to not be conducive to feeding a town, and Bryn could only roll her eyes at the ridiculousness of wasting limited resources in such a way in the first place.
Somehow everything the Tanwenian people believed, their whole religion itself and what it stood for, was against Balor. The more Bryn learned about the fall of Tanwen, it was as if the Church of Baleros was actually only made to go against the old ways.
All the rules of the church were in direct opposition to the way it had been for hundreds of years before the Collapse.
Tanwen hadn’t fallen under the king’s thumb until her teen years. Bryn had planned many escapes to Tanwen in her youth before the invasion. Asking Sage questions of her birthplace was from which their friendship grew. Finally, Sage trusted Bryn enough to show her the books that would have been burned should anyone in town find them.
Much like Niamh’s books, they were treasured secrets for Bryn. A library of forbidden information.
Sage’s parents had secretly worshipped nature instead of worshipping at the king’s orders. They believed in a mother goddess who created all, and it was their job as her children to preserve any and all they could of the natural world.
“We had no choice. Our people ran for their lives. The wraiths came overnight, and we didn’t have the supplies to make it far. Ifreann was the closest, and once we were in, there was no leaving.”
That was the extent of Sage’s explanation. That the governor opened the gate for her family, and that there was almost a riot of the townsfolk from the entrance of an unknown, wicked family into their pristine town. That was her most prominent memory of the event.
Mr. Rafferty had made them a home here, and while they may have been uncomfortable, they stayed. They tried to teach people who would listen about nature and the old ways.
Bryn was sure that was what had caused their early deaths. She had no proof, but the visceral anger of the community and that Mallory called them witches as she did Bryn was a pretty large clue.
Every day since they had died, Mallory reminded her what happened to witches in their town, and that was proof enough for Bryn to keep her head down and not ask questions.
Rubbing at her cheek, Bryn remembered the words that came with the slap when Mallory had found her after she’d shunned the touch of a member of the church after service, consequently embarrassing Mallory.
Bryn had been young and naïve enough to think she could make a choice for herself and her comfort.
With the memory of the slap came the words that slithered through her head whenever she spoke of Sage’s parents:
“I should help you pack and send you off myself to that witch-and-demon-blighted city so you can join all the other witches there. Take your already damned soul and good riddance.”
The night before Sage came into town, Bryn had packed a bag with the intention to leave and try her hand at making it to Tanwen, not knowing it was being torn apart at the seams by the king’s army.
If Kessler hadn’t found her with her bag walking toward the gate, she might have left. Instead, he made her sit with him as he prepared the fires for the blacksmith he was an apprentice under until her anger wore off. He never asked after that what had made her try to leave, but she was sure he knew something was up. Especially when she made sure he never saw her cheek, keeping her face away from him.
“Yes!” Sage threw a fist up as she did a little dance, her other hand holding a book not in the language of Ifreann. “A crow means change! Something will change soon.”
“I’ll say,” Bryn muttered as she made a wave to the door they had just come through.
“Oh... but there was only one... right?” Sage asked, looking up at Bryn with a furrowed brow.
“That I saw.” Bryn drawled out the word at the look in Sage’s honey eyes.
“One crow... means death.” Sage bit her lip as she turned the yellow pages of the book.
“For whom?” Bryn snapped, calming herself when her friend took a step back. Bryn was not lost to anger often, so even she herself was shocked by the outburst, the vision she’d just had coloring Sage’s words in her mind. Were they somehow related? The storm and the crow?
Bryn was not one to believe in coincidences.
“I don’t know, Bryn, but there is a prophecy among my people—”
A knock at the door had both of them scrambling to hide the book. Anything from Tanwenian history was outlawed after the king took Tanwen, and if someone saw Sage with it, exile would be the least of their worries.
Skirting around the small dining room table, Bryn put her finger to her lips as Sage calmed herself, having hid the book under her couch cushion. Wiping her sweaty palms on her dress, she nodded to Bryn that she was ready.
