Vaunn moved through the narrow alley, his shoulders drawn in. The cold bit at the air, and each breath formed a pale cloud. The street was deserted no voices, no footsteps but his own. Only the thatched roofs, lined up on either side, still seemed alive, letting thin trails of gray smoke escape and coil toward the sky.

  As he went on, the houses faded behind him, and the path led him to a temple. He stopped before the door.

  He grasped the metal handle and knocked three times. The door opened slightly, revealing a man wrapped in a long, dark silk robe. At the sight of the stranger, his brows immediately furrowed and his lips tightened.

  “How may I help you, traveler?”

  Vaunn raised his hands, red and sore, as his chapped lips trembled.

  “Could you offer me shelter? I would be glad to help.”

  The monk muttered something inaudible as he opened the door wider.

  “Leave your soaked belongings at the entrance, or you’ll be cleaning the floor.”

  He crouched down to undo the straps of his shoes. His fingers struggled to obey, and he had to try twice before managing to remove them. When he set them down at the entrance, the warmer air of the temple brushed against his feet. He then placed his pack aside and took off his coat, water dripping from it onto the stone tiles.

  As he straightened, five monks appeared. They all wore the same garments as the first long, dark robes with their hoods pulled low. They stopped a few paces away.

  “Who is this man, Silk?” one of the monks asked.

  He turned his head toward Vaunn.

  “A traveler in need of shelter, Gale.”

  “Tristan, Jage, Vom, take him to the baths and prepare clean clothes for him,” Gale said.

  The three monks set off, and Vaunn followed them. After a few steps, he glanced back. Near the entrance, Gale was facing Silk. His brows were drawn tight, his jaw clenched, and he leaned toward Silk.

  A hand suddenly settled on Vaunn’s shoulder. He flinched and looked up at the monk.

  “Follow us.”

  They passed through several corridors before emerging into the baths. A wave of heat immediately enveloped them, blurring the air and drowning the room in a whitish haze. At the center stood a basin, filled with steaming water.

  Two men were immersed up to their shoulders. Tristan pointed out an alcove along the side of the chamber.

  “Wash yourself. When you’re finished, you may join the basin. A servant will bring you a towel and clean clothes.”

  “Thank you very much for your hospitality.”

  Tristan motioned to the others, and the monks moved away. Vaunn watched them go, then turned toward the alcove. He removed his clothes and set them down on the floor. When he reached for his neck, his fingers brushed against the necklace. He hesitated for a moment, then left it in place. He activated the mechanism set into the stone. A dull breath echoed within the wall, and warm water began to flow. It slid down his body, taking on a brownish tint before disappearing across the floor.

  Stolen story; please report.

  When he was finished, Vaunn shut off the water and stepped toward the basin, its surface rippling beneath the steam. He placed one foot in, then the other, lowering himself slowly until the heat fully enveloped him. He then slid into a corner and settled there, his back resting against the warm stone.

  Opposite him stood a pale-skinned man. His hair, streaked with gray and white, fell in light strands over his shoulders. His face was smooth, without a single wrinkle.

  “Good evening,” he said.

  No one answered. The pale-skinned man lifted his gaze toward him, and the other did the same, studying him.

  Long minutes passed in silence, broken only by the gentle lapping of the water. Then a creak shattered the calm.

  Vaunn turned his head toward the entrance of the chamber. The door had just opened, revealing a young woman. She stepped forward, her arms laden with folded clothes and a towel. She approached a stone table and set down what she was carrying.

  “Your belongings are ready. I’ve placed them on the table. When you’ve finished getting ready, I will escort you to your room,” said the young woman with long jet-black hair.

  “Thank you, miss.”

  She inclined her head slightly, then left. Vaunn stepped out of the basin and moved toward the table, took the towel, and dried himself before putting on the clothes. He slipped into a blue silk shirt and a pair of cashmere trousers. Once dressed, he left the chamber. A few steps from the entrance, the young woman was waiting for him.

  “It’s surprising that Monk Gale would lend you his personal clothes,” she said with a smile.

  “He doesn’t seem very approachable.”

  “He can be strict at times, but he’s a good person,” she added, glancing away.

  They walked through several corridors before she stopped in front of a wooden door and opened it. A double bed occupied the center of the room, covered with burgundy sheets and red blankets.

  Near the wall stood a mirror, beneath which a basin was set. A finely crafted wooden wardrobe completed the room.

  “You wouldn’t think this was a monastery,” Vaunn exclaimed.

  “It’s a prosperous monastery.”

  The young woman replaced the cushion covers and smoothed their surface. As she passed her hands over them, her sleeves slid back slightly, revealing her wrists, marked with irregular white traces. When she was finished, she straightened up.

  “I’ll bring you your meal this evening,” she said.

  “I won’t be eating with the others?”

  “The monks don’t like discussing their affairs in front of outsiders. It would be better if you ate here, for today.”

  “I understand. I didn’t even ask your name.”

  “You can call me Clea.”

  “And I’m Vaunn.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” she replied.

  She inclined her head, then left the room. He opened the wardrobe and glanced at the clothes inside before closing it again. Finally, he headed for the door and left the chamber.

  The corridor was filled with monks, dozens of silhouettes moving in the same rhythm. Carried along by the flow, he followed them until they emerged into a vast hall. It was filled with rows of dark robes.

  Vaunn stepped forward as well, but around him, an empty space slowly formed. The monks adjusted their paths as he approached, moving aside. When he stopped, none of them stood closer than a few paces. Gale stepped into that space.

  “Return to your room. Ask Cleaphylis to show you the kitchens and the crops.”

  *****

  Clea was waiting for Vaunn outside his room.

  “They’re not very friendly,” Vaunn remarked.

  “They’re not used to seeing outsiders and tend to be wary,” Clea replied.

  They crossed several galleries, went down a staircase, then walked on for a while before reaching the kitchens. Long wooden tables filled the space, covered with baskets, utensils, and dishes. Around thirty servants were busy there, chopping vegetables, watching over steaming pots, or kneading dough.

  “How many of you are there?” Vaunn asked.

  “There are more than two thousand monks and about seven hundred servants.”

  “Two thousand? Where are they?” Vaunn asked.

  “There are halls beneath the temple. Most of them sleep and eat down there. We don’t see them very often.”

  *****

  Night had long since fallen when Vaunn tried to open the door to his room. He pulled gently, then harder. Nothing moved.

  He raised a hand to his neck and removed his necklace. At its end hung a small metal cylinder. He opened it and twisted it. Dark droplets fell to the floor. A cloud rose and, within seconds, dissipated, leaving behind only a sharp, acrid smell in the air.