The Wielder Trials. Franca Ogbonnaya

Lane was what Danai grimly stated was Armaments and Armor Lane. These shops were bigger than the rest. They had black canopies and they all had at least three crimson-clad guards. Britea felt a shiver run down her spine as they walked past the imposing row of heavily guarded shops

      The next important sector was Fashionista Lane in the northwest area of the market. As she and Danai stepped into that area, she understood the reason for its name. For one thing, the road here was a bright, pinkish-purple, brick-laden road. A few roadside stalls displayed small vividly colored hats and unique clothing accessories, belts and scarves, and other items she had never seen before. Britea wondered how they kept stock dry when it rained. Secondly, the bigger shops had bright pink canopies and brightly colored signs advertising clothes, jewelry, and accessories. Most of these shops also had crimson-clad guards. Even the roadside stalls had one or two sentries.

      Her jaw dropped when she tried and failed to count the various buildings. Carlina, her older sister, would die and go to heaven if she ever came here. Then her gaze happened upon a small shop with grey walls and a distinct blood-red canopy.

      Carlelli’s Books and Writing Materials . A bookstore. And it didn’t have any guards.

      “Please, can we look in there quickly? If you don’t mind?” asked Britea in one breath.

      Danai laughed softly. “Of course. I’m looking for a good book myself.”

      Britea smiled with relief. She had been worried Danai might be irritated because she probably had better things to do. Britea knew the school had an extensive library, but nothing beat owning your own books. The few she had brought with her were her favorites, and she was ever so careful with them.

      Her thoughts returned to the present as the two wielders entered the bookstore. A bell rang above them as Britea pushed the old but well-preserved wooden door open.

      Though small on the outside, the interior appeared vast.

      “Hmm, that’s odd,” said Danai in a low voice.

      “Good day. How can I help you?” Both wielders turned to face a middle-aged, pale-skinned woman dressed in a brightly colored emerald gown. A frightened expression replaced the smile on the woman’s face when she saw Danai.

      “You…you’re here?”

      Danai and Britea shared a confused glance. “I’m sorry, but have we met?” asked Danai.

      The woman shook her head, then smiled. “Forgive me, but for a moment, I…I thought you were someone I’d heard of…I mean, that I knew.” Her laughter sounded a touch hysterical.

      Britea was beginning to feel uneasy and could see from Danai’s expression that she felt the same way. Maybe they should leave.

      The shopkeeper laughed again. “Where are my manners? I’m Erina Seaworth.”

      All thoughts of leaving disappeared when Britea heard the name. “Erina Seaworth? The author of Lost Histories of the Deep, Volumes One and Two? And Wielder’s Tales, Volumes One and Two? And Doomed Love Stories of Time and Legend!?” Her voice was rising as she listed all the books. It was Britea’s turn to be stared at.

      “I have all your books!” squealed Britea in delight. “You are such a talented writer!”

      Erina blushed. “Well, thank you. I’m so glad you like my work,” she looked uncertainly at Danai.

      The fire wielder nodded. “I’ve read some of your work too. I never thought I would meet you. It is an honor.” Then to Britea’s amazement, Danai placed her right hand on her chest and bowed to Erina. What happened next stunned the two wielders. Erina began to cry.

      Danai and Britea shared a startled look.

      “I’m so sorry,” apologized Danai. “I didn’t mean to mock or insult you.”

      The writer waved her left hand as she used a handkerchief with her right to blow her nose. “No, no. You didn’t insult me. I am truly happy with your gesture of respect. To think that I would receive it from one such as—” she paused before taking a new tack, “one as noble as you.” Britea suspected she had been about to say something else.

      “So, pardon me for asking, but why the tears?” asked a worried-looking Danai. The writer stared at her and Britea for a long moment, then sighed dramatically as if she had made an important decision.

      “Have a seat, both of you, and hear my tale. Oh! And I have tea and biscuits.”

      CHAPTER 7

      Britea and Danai sat down at a tiny wooden table nestled beneath a grimy window, and despite their pleas that they weren’t hungry, Erina insisted on serving tea for the two wielders. She carefully poured the tea into three cups as she began to tell her tale.

      “When I was a little girl, I was fascinated with books and stories and writing. I wrote so much my parents despaired at the cost of writing materials, but still they encouraged me, and for that I was very grateful. But as I got older, my hunger for knowledge only grew. As you know,” she looked pointedly at Danai, “Our Weltonian history doesn’t exist on paper but is only passed on orally.”

      Britea blinked; she hadn’t known that. Mama Chloe had never mentioned that.

      Danai appeared a bit uneasy as she answered. “Aye, that I know.”

      Erina smiled sadly as she continued. “So, you can imagine my family’s shock when I began to put our history to paper.”

      Britea saw Danai go pale. “That’s…that’s not allowed.”

      Erina nodded as she sat down. “I know, but I persisted. I was warned to stop but I couldn’t. It was as if some part of me was compelled to write everything down. At first, I kept it a secret at my parents’ urging but…” she paused as if unsure of how to proceed. Both Britea and Danai kept quiet, sensing her inner turmoil. Erina took a deep breath.

      “Then one day, I couldn’t keep it secret any longer, and I presented all my writings of our history to a Council of Elders meeting.” Danai’s eyes went wide. Britea could tell from her expression that Erina had done something wrong according to Weltonian ways.

      “What happened?” she asked when she could stand the suspense no longer.

      “Instant exile.” Britea saw Danai wince.

      Erina smiled and patted their hands. “Do not despair for me. Now, drink your tea before it gets cold.” Britea and Danai glanced at each other and reached for their tea cups; Erina also took a sip from hers.

      An uncomfortable silence followed until Danai cleared her throat and turned to Erina.

      “Don’t,” commanded the Weltonian author with a firm smile. “Never apologize for something that happened way before you were born.”

      Danai’s face flushed as Britea stared at her. “But it’s unfair what they did to you.”

      Erina gave Danai an odd look. “You don’t agree with the elders?”

      “Not on some things and certainly not on that.”

      The Weltonian writer shook her head. “I broke the law, and I deserved to be punished. Which is why I’m here, selling and writing as many books as I can before the Sea Mother calls me home.”

      Britea was a bit startled by that. “The Sea Mother? Don’t you mean the Maker and His Lords of Light and Shadow?”

      Erina laughed softly. “The Sea Mother and the Maker are one and the same.”

      “What?” Britea gasped in shock while Danai sighed wearily and rubbed her forehead.

      “It’s best if you don’t speak of it in public,” warned Danai grimly before turning to Erina. “Why did you tell us your story of exile? We’re just two strangers passing by.”

      The writer grinned and tapped her finger against