The fog hadn't rolled in yet, but it would. It always did.
She kept to the edge of the dock, close enough to the water that the boards were slick beneath her boots. People didn't like walking there. That made it useful.
She counted three lanterns ahead, two behind, and none close enough to matter. That was normal. Normal however didn't mean safe. Her trousers were torn from endless days on the street, boots scuffed from running both from local thugs and Highlanders alike. Silver hair brushed her shoulders as she moved, jade eyes catching the lanternlight.
She wasn't meant to be here after dark, but she spurred on anyway determined to reach the shrine located near the far end of the dock. She needed this. Not wanted. Needed. There was a difference and she felt it every time she looked at Holt, every time she ran from Highlanders, every time she couldn't do a damn thing about any of it.
It was the one the fishermen always prayed to. The one that blessed their voyages hoping to come back with just enough to at least feed their families, if they were lucky maybe they could make some extra cash selling to the people that weren't so lucky.
Following the orange glow of the lanterns she moved quickly along the dock. Her head remained on a swivel, looking out for anyone watching her. She'd lived in Froja her whole life and still couldn't decide if it was the kind of place that broke people or just revealed what they already were.
"It's way too quiet right now. Even for Froja there's normally some people around" She thought.
At last, she reached the shrine. It wasn't fancy, a few unlit candles sat around the worn marble statue that stuck out among the depravity of Froja. But it was all they had, all they could give, whether the god appreciated it or not nobody knew.
"Ok let's get this started" she said rubbing her hands together in excitement.
Pulling some chalk out of her pocket, which she had swiped earlier that day she started recreating the ritual circle that she had been watching the sailors make for weeks. She meticulously kept drawing under the light of the lanterns. She finished the circle and humming quietly to herself she started to light the candles using the matches left by the base of the statue. She stepped into the circle looking up at the night sky.
If anyone saw her, it wouldn't just be a beating.
As she was about to start the chants she'd heard ever since she was a child, A man burst from the shadows, running straight toward the shrine.
"Don't you dare say a word Astrea" He shouted.
Astrea turned around trying to spot where the voice was coming from. She sighed heavily before stepping out of the circle.
"I'm out, I'm out" she said, "Relax Holt."
Holt had now reached Astrea looking dishevelled, his right arm lay limp at his side as he grasped it with his left, his face contorted in pain. Astrea, looking at Holt, became more serious.
"Holt. What happened to you".
"I'm not talking about it".
"Tell me what happened…please".
Holt looked away looking almost ashamed,
"It was just some local guys. You're still a child, don't get involved in adult affairs." Holt stopped to take a breath. "Now care to explain what the hell you think you're doing?"
Astrea couldn't stop staring at his arm. She could see the veins coursing through his arm tainted a dark shade of blue. The smell coming from his arm reminded her of the ocean. A sort of sea salt breeze that came and went with the wind. Though she didn't know what was wrong it was clear. The arm didn't look like it belonged to him anymore.
"I said what the hell do you think you're doing" Holt said more forcefully this time.
It was Astrea's turn to look ashamed.
"I just wanted to become one of the Touched" she said her face downcast.
Holt, despite his injuries, smiled. He faced the sea looking out towards the horizon. "There's more than just the ritual circle and chants to be touched by Kujira".
"Then tell me what I need to do. Why won't you tell me?" Astrea responded.
Holt turned to leave the dock. As he left, he had one final thing to say.
"You're not ready Astrea. Let's go home".
He started to walk off the dock and Astrea begrudgingly followed. However, leaving the dock she felt uneasy as if someone was watching and waiting. She looked around up and down the dock surveying each inch of the dock as she walked. Though no one was there.
"No local thugs could do that to someone's arm." She thought still pondering the state of Holt's arm.
They wound through dim side streets and alleys before reaching Holt's house. As they rested in the house and ate together, Holt decided that today he would explain everything to Astrea.
"To be touched," He began "You need to train both your body, understand yourself and feel the energy that flows through you".
Astrea looked confused at the last part, so Holt continued.
"You'll feel it when it matters."
With that Astrea seemed to better understand why Holt had stopped her. Astrea had heard stories about what could happen to those rejected by the gods. Bodies contorted into unrecognisable heaps of flesh.
"Holt, I need you to train me please. I want the power of the Touched. I need it". Said Astrea
"You should get some rest. I'll take you out tomorrow and you can start training since you want this so desperately." Said Holt smiling.
Astrea moving towards the mat on the floor whispered one last thing to Holt.
"Thank you, this means a lot to me."
With that she fell asleep.