The Weight of a Torch — Part One
The sun had already set as Kaia approached a squat wooden inn, nestled right off the side of the Celias Way. It was the only structure for miles around, its battered, iron door opening directly to the road. When she approached the threshold, the door swung open, carving a path for the scents of spiced meat and hearty stew to meander into the night air. She lingered at the threshold, staring into an empty dining room, dimly lit with tallow candles. She took a deep breath. “I am but a traveler, seeking rest, that we might hold together the fraying…