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Garden of Silk Ch19: Sketch of Fire
🕑 Added 2025-10-30 02:37:14 +0000 UTCA/N: I had hoped to have this out this past weekend! Instead, we lost power Saturday and most of Sunday, and when editing, I decided to more or less rewrite and rebuild this chapter. It's one of those transitional situations between plot points where the original draft just doesn't cut it. That's also bled over into Chapter 20, which I'd hoped to have edited tonight, but will need a good amount of rewriting itself to line up better with 19 the few chapters I have written after it.
We ran until the night grew old, until clouds covered the moon and plunged the forest into darkness. Color washed out, details blurred, and Azalea struggled even with whatever technique she was using. Still, we only stopped some time later, crawling through brush into a shallow, sheltered cave.
The first words either of us said were out of my mouth.
“Why am I alive?”
I scooted up next to the cave wall and pulled my knees up to my chest. Every heartbeat felt like a hammer blow through my body.
For once, Azalea didn’t answer. She sat cross-legged across from me, looking up at the sky through a gap in the brush.
“What all does Mother know? Father? What secrets has my family kept from me? I assumed the Sect was responsible for the bloodstone, but what if they weren’t?” Each breath came faster than the next, and the cave walls pulled in tight around me.
Azalea might have said something, she might not have. The whole world slipped away. Below me, my Garden was a distant dream, drifting down and away through the red sky, falling faster than I was. Flashes of color, half memories, and snippets of conversation whirled around me.
My last chance at life had slid right through my fingers. Or perhaps I’d thrown it away.
One thought stuck around in the maelstrom: Why didn’t she kill me?
Everything I had ever known made it clear what should have happened. I’d killed and consumed the vitae of another, my hunger made me a danger to everyone around me, and this monstrous body had warped my mind such that I felt little shame in it.
She’d called me daughter.
Even before she’d realized I was a demon. That was what stuck out to me most. So she knew; something had tipped her off, but it was an old sort of pain.
Which meant… that perhaps the demon hadn’t warped my mind quite like I’d assumed. In turn, if my mind was my own… It wasn’t a monster who’d eaten a man, it wasn’t a monster who threw out all morals when pushed to the brink.
It was me. Silk.
All those decisions were mine, and I’d take those risks again, make those decisions again, every single time. My Garden rose up to embrace me, wrapped me in tender, thorny vines, and I surfaced into the waking world, gasping for breath.
“You’re awake!”
I lifted myself up with my lowest pair of spider legs and blinked at her. Shreds of my guise fell all around me, whispering against the stone floor. “How long was I out?” The night was brighter, fading fast into the day.
“Not too long.” Azalea twirled a stick in one hand. She was sitting on her front, propped up on elbows with her legs up against the cave wall.
“What an improper posture.”
“So you’re alright, then?”
I blinked, frowning. There was a dull ache I knew wouldn’t soon fade. Things were never that simple, but my heart was steady and the night air crisp. “I’ll live.”
“I’d hope so! Tonight’s been a mess.”
“Yes… Yes it has.”
“Wish you didn’t have to leave.”
“Yes, Azalea, I would also like that.” My tone was clipped.
“Sooo… So much for sneaking into the Sect, huh?” Azalea looked down and started scratching into the dirt between us with a sharpened stick.
Her comments irked me, but I was just as relieved as she was to talk about literally anything else right now. I looked down at her scratchings, trying to make sense of them. “What do you mean by that?”
“What you made me promise, Silk.”
I furrowed my brow and looked back up. “Wait… do you mean that agreement where you’d help me steal a technique from the sect?”
“Yep.” She stuck her tongue out and hunched over, scratching even more furiously at the ground. “Not gonna happen now, but your mom said we’re stuck together anyway. Oh, and she seems great by the way!”
I felt a bit of warmth thinking of her. “Yes, she had everything figured out and still accepted me.”
“She still kicked you out though. Aaand done!” She leaned back.
“What did you…” I followed her beckoning motion and sat next to her. “Did you draw a… fire?”
“Yep! Since we’re hiding out and can’t have one.” She scooted back and leaned against the rocky overhang we were hiding under. “When do you think we can go to the town?”
“A week,” I answered. “Perhaps a month.”
She frowned. “I know neither of us need to eat daily, but I don’t think you can subsist on vitae alone, and I’m not gonna do well in autumn without a cookfire.”
“I’m not either.”
“I’m pretty sure you can eat raw meat.”
“Can, not will. I’m civilized.”
“Right. Well, if we’re gonna sit here and starve while staring at a sketch of the fire we both want, we can at least figure out a plan, yeah? Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t already forced us through one, point by point.”
I stared down at my human-looking, slender hands again and hugged my knees to my chest. “I’ve had a lot of thinking to do.”
“And?”
“I am still thinking.”
“Damnit, come on! You basically told your mom you were a girl and she accepted it. You got rid of your old name. Just be fine with being a girl already!”
My earlier revelation felt far away right now, and doubt dug claws into me. “But I’m not, really—”
“Yes really.” She hit me lightly on the head. “How dense are you?”
“I don’t have the right. It was an involuntary transformation, and I’ve not lived my life in such a way as to have the right perspective.” I shot back.
“Perspective pershmective! If you need perspective, then just go get some or something.”
“Which I can’t do.” I sighed. “I suppose you’re right about the plan then. I can’t solve this right now. Not until we can get to town and figure out what I’m going to do next. My entire life’s plan is just gone. I’m not the ducal heir, I’m not in any position of power to do any of the things I wanted to.”
Azalea groaned. “I’m not even gonna unpack the ‘right now’ part because I think I need to be Seventh Ring to punch through your thick skull, but I can answer the power part, easy. Just get stronger!”
“As if it were that simple.”
“Seems pretty simple to me. Go find more asshole cultivators and eat them. Down a bunch of bloodstone if you can find it. What’s it gonna do, make you a demon?”
“It could infect my mind. And I am not going to murder people.”
“What if they deserve it?”
“I am in no position any longer to judge that.”
“So?”
“So…” I paused. “Fine, I’ll think about it. I’m not so naive to not know there are many who exploit the systems we have in place. And speaking of such people, we’ll need to get to Grayriver and visit whoever you got that bloodstone from.”
She closed her eyes and actually seemed to think about it for all of two seconds. “Alright, but I’ll do the talking. You talk like a noble, your accent’s like a noble, and you’ll give the whole thing away.”
“Oh? And what will be our excuse to maintain my silence? Do you think that won’t be suspicious?”
“Are you… is that?” She looked at me askance.
“Sarcasm? Yes, in fact. I’ll hold my tongue, but I won’t be mute.” For emphasis, I crossed my arms.
Azalea frowned. “Can you change your accent?”
“We have two days, and I’m equivalent to a strong First Ring, perhaps almost Second Ring. Show me, and I will learn.”
She stared at me for a long moment, then brightened and chirped, “Sure! Do you wanna see those papers we snagged from your dad’s desk, first?” She reached into her collar.
Eyes wide, I looked away. “I thought you dropped them when we were fleeing!”
“Nah, just shoved ‘em in the one pocket us girls always have.” She caught me looking down at my own chest. “Er, usually. Anyway, let’s use the sunrise here and look ‘em over together, yeah?”
She spread the crumpled papers by the “fire” and I slid next to her to read them over. There were only a few, and none of them made any mention of mines or mountains.
“Well that sucks,” Azalea said after finishing a single read, leaning back to watch the forest.
I gave them another look, diving through details. “It’s not going to just be spelled out, Azalea. If he took the time to put these in a locked drawer under those circumstances, there’s something here.”
I checked the unfinished document again. But again, nothing jumped out at me. It wasn’t until I put them all side by side that I got somewhere. “Wait a moment. Every one of these relates to the new rail system.”
“So he was working on that.”
“Yes, but Father never showed interest in the rail system. That was my project, even if his name was the most associated.”
“Maybe you convinced him.” Despite her tone, Azalea leaned back over, cocking her head to get a good look at the flowing handwriting and uniform, printed letters.
“This latest document is a cargo manifest. Well, the approval for one. I’d bet the actual manifest is in the safe.”
“Sure.”
“Think about it. Why would he want to personally sign off on this?”
“Because he’s the duke.”
“He has assistants for that sort of thing. There’s procedure, I would know. Not every single decision needs Father’s pen.”
“So this train then”—she pointed to the train’s number—“is important.”
“Exactly.”
“And it leaves in three days.”
My shoulders sagged, and I let out a long, tired breath. “Yes, it does. And it’s the latest thing in here.”
Azalea stood up. “Then we’d better hurry.”
“But Mother said—”
“She said not to get caught, right? We’re just two mundane persons taking a train. I’ve got money to cover the fare.”
“If it’s not sold out, that could work. But we’ll need to sneak into where the cargo is.”
“Think it’s bloodstone?”
“...It might be.”
“Well let’s go find out! If we can’t get tickets, we’ll just sneak on. If you made this system, you should know how to exploit it.”
I stared down at the papers I’d stolen from Father. I thought about the conversation I’d had with Mother before leaving. I thought about all the times I’d stopped myself with rules and regulations.
After just a moment, I shredded the papers with my nails and stood up, scattering the pieces to the winds. “I can get us on that train.”
***
It was hard to miss how the city had changed. Grayriver, its proper name, stood in a fair-winded valley, the river of the same name passing idly by. Though the mountains loomed large in the distance, the hills here were of a gentler sort. And though the winters were frigid, autumn was the harvest time, and it always showed in the people.
Not so much today. There were guards about the place, and though the city had long spilled out from its walls, themselves a decorative function well beyond their lifespan, a creative solution was still needed to enter.
It seemed Mother had kept her word, as the suspects were not two young women as we appeared, but one woman and one man, of build and description different from our own. Though two women of our age and without cultivation traveling alone to a city did indeed draw a few looks. Nothing my knowledge and Azalea’s quick tongue couldn’t fix.
Rickshaws clattered by on the wide street, even a few carriages with horses from the plains, both crowded by a throng of people moving to and from the autumn markets. Everyone was bundled for winter, and people moved with a purpose.
In this crowd, I’d had several chances to practice affecting a commoner’s accent. Talk of the weather and the harvest, passing greetings, and more all reviewed by Azalea’s ever-changing expression. Mostly disapproval. Frankly, since no one had commented, I felt I was doing rather well.
“You know, I always wanted to see what I’d look like on a wanted poster.” Azalea said as we stopped to “admire” some of the many, many wanted posters plastered on the main thoroughfare. “Think they’d get my good side?” She made a pose and flashed a smile.
Instead of more traditional wear, she seemed almost a little too comfortable in peasant working clothes, trousers included. At her insistence, against all common sense, I’d created a pleated skirt for myself that fell down to the ankles, topped by a modest blouse that purposefully didn’t quite fit. All in cheap, earth tones of grays, browns and tans.
I rolled my eyes. “They would focus on your ridiculous hair.” The bright pink of Azalea’s hair stuck out like a beacon, even if the color wasn’t exactly unheard of.
She nodded sagely. “It is one of my many best features.”
“Keep moving.” I started off toward the station, flat shoes clicking on cobblestones. Flat at my insistence—it was almost like she’d been treating me like a dress-up doll. “We don’t have a day to waste. The train leaves in the morning—we should try to get tickets first.”
“And get something to eat!” Her eyes followed one of many stalls selling what I could charitably call food on this smaller street. Not like I haven’t eaten worse lately, I thought.
“After we visit your… friend.” Despite the seeming anonymity of the crowd around us, I wouldn’t trust speaking so plainly.
“But I’m hungry now.”
Truth be told, so was I. “Fine. We’ll get food first. I only have a small amount of money, so you’re paying.”
She skipped up next to me. “What’s a small amount to you? Also, accent!”
I showed her my coinpurse and she whistled.
“Azalea, I know the value of money. This isn’t a lot.” I focused on enunciation, hoping I found more suitable words.
She shrugged. “Fine, you got me. But it is more than you think. You’re assuming someone making a solid wage is the average.”
“...A fair point.”
She sighed. “You might actually be hopeless at this.”
I followed her to a stall, swallowing both anger and a retort. As if I could change the way I speak in two days! We walked away with a mix of autumn vegetables and river trout on a stick, and we hadn’t made it ten steps before a tight group of city guard rushed past.
I flinched when they got near, but not so much as a glance was passed our way, and my instincts quickly smoothed my expression over. Instead of continuing on toward the station on the edge of the city, they turned down another small street.
“I don’t suppose your friend’s that way?”
Azalea bit a piece of fish off the stick. “Srr ish.” She swallowed and started after them at a brisk walk. “Eat fast and let’s go check it out!”
“Nothing is ever easy, is it?” I grumbled as I trotted after her.
As if to prove me wrong, the guards took no sharp turns down alleyways, allowing us to tail them through well-trodden streets as the buildings grew poorer and poorer, well beyond the old walls. Eventually, they ran into a shabby street market.
Black smoke curled up from somewhere we couldn’t see, but aside from a few curious faces, everyone who had been here had scattered. Without cover, I silenced my steps and followed Azalea into a shaded alley.
We crept along, parallel to the market. The smell was terrible, even under the smoke that stung my eyes. At a crack between two sagging buildings we stopped and peered through at where the smoke was.
A blackened skeleton was all that was left of whatever building had been there, and my stomach turned. Bodies. A handful, scattered about the ruined stalls nearby. Their injuries were devastating. Some had impacted buildings hard enough to shatter wood, and others looked like they’d been stabbed a dozen times.
Whatever fight had taken place here was short and brutal. I couldn’t see down the market street, but from the entrance, the damage didn’t extend far. Before we had to risk using Azalea’s shadow technique, I tapped her shoulder. She hesitated, but followed me out, and we didn’t speak until the market was far behind us.
“That was the place, right?” I asked simply.
“Yep. Think it was cloudheads?”
“...I don’t know,” I answered with just a little hesitation at Azalea’s language. “It certainly could’ve been.” The Sect, Enic’s faction. Both would have a motive, and it would all depend on who was backing the seller—if either of them were.
“Either way, someone has it out for someone else!”
I nodded and picked up the pace toward the station. “And I’ve got a suspicion we’ll find answers very soon.”
