Market Scene
Sky Frost appeared in the marketplace, her steps measured beneath the heavy sun. Her walk was steady, her posture upright, chin lifted with quiet confidence. She moved with calm grace, pausing at times to glance at the stalls, her eyes sharp and observant.
The square was crowded, alive with movement: stalls stacked with vegetables, cloth folded in bright colours, bread warm from the ovens, jewellery glittering in the light, and cosmetics displayed in neat jars. The air carried the scent of spices and sweat, while voices rose in barter and gossip.
She noticed everything — tall women, some five foot nine, others five foot ten, their dresses flowing in pale shades, veils draped lightly, jewellery catching the sunlight. The men were taller still, six feet or more, their tunics belted at the waist, shawls thrown across shoulders, sandals worn from the stone paths.
But soon she realized the people were noticing her too. Their eyes followed her, sharp and condemning, their voices rising in judgment.
"What filthy cloth she's wearing — doesn't she have shame?"
"How can a woman walk in such vulgar dress?"
Sky Frost stopped. She held her pose, her jaw tightening, her eyes narrowing. She let the silence hang for a moment, then spoke slowly, little by little:
"People will always talk… it never changes. Not in my world, not in theirs."
She paused again, her gaze sweeping the crowd, her tone sharpening:
"But why am I here? What am I supposed to do?"
Her voice dropped lower, almost muttering:
"I have never met Isak Raven… yet I always appear on his path. Always near him… but never crossing him."
Then her calm broke into fire. When she heard one more comment — "Who allowed her to come here?" — she turned sharply, her shoulders squared, her voice rising bold and fierce:
"Why the fuck do you all cares? Do your damn business here… shut your filthy mouths, and get lost."
The crowd opened their eyes wide, staring at her. A few voices hissed back:
"What a shame… a woman with such a rotten tongue. Who will marry her?"
"If she were mine, I would cut her tongue out."
Sky Frost's lips curled into a cold smile. She answered slowly, each word deliberate, dripping with insult:
Cut it if you dare… but if I ever married one of you, I'd burn it back into your throat — and torch your home with it."
The people shouted louder, their fury swelling:
"Witch lady!"
Her mood shifted — irritation boiled into determination. She walked faster, her sandals striking the stone path, her body rigid, her eyes restless as if searching for someone. Under her breath she muttered:
"Where the hell is he? For him I've been walking here without purpose, even tired."
At last, she reached a shop and sat heavily on the wooden chair outside. She bent down, opened the straps of her heels, and pulled them off. Her foot was red, the skin raw from the long walk. She looked at it and muttered with exhaustion:
"God… it's turned red."
Her voice hardened, cursing Isak Raven again:
"Damn him… I suffer for this, walking without reason, all because of him."
The marketplace noise swirled around her — gossip, laughter, bargaining — but then it shifted. A sharper sound broke through, cruel and merciless. Shouting rose from the far side of the square, louder than the merchants, louder than the crowd.
She stood quickly, leaving her sandal behind in her haste. Her body stiffened, her eyes narrowed, her breath quickened. She pushed through the press of bodies, her walk urgent, her shoulders squared as if bracing for battle.
Sky Frost's heart jolted as her eyes caught the sight ahead. Her breath quickened, her chest tightened, and the marketplace around her seemed to collapse into chaos.
A young woman — barely twenty‑two — was lashed to a tree. The ropes bit into her arms, her skin raw and bruised, her face streaked with blood and dust. She trembled, helpless, while the mob circled her like wolves.
The square had turned savage. The air stank of sweat and crushed tomatoes, dust rising from the ground as sandals scraped against stone. Merchants had abandoned their stalls, joining the frenzy with cruel delight. Rotten fruit and sandals flew through the air, striking the bound woman with merciless force.
The crowd's voices rose, venomous and merciless:
"Witch!"
"She seduced a married man!"
"She should die!"
"Rotten whore, corrupting our homes!"
Sky Frost's pulse hammered in her ears. Fury surged through her veins, burning away hesitation. She pushed forward, her stride urgent, her shoulders squared as if bracing for battle.
The mob saw her coming and shouted:
"Stay away, stranger! This is not your fight!"
"Touch her and you'll rot with her!"
But Sky Frost did not stop. She forced her way through the press of bodies, her eyes blazing. She stepped in front of the bound girl, shielding her with her own body.
The crowd erupted in rage. Tomatoes smashed against Sky Frost's clothes, splattering across her chest and arms, staining her with red pulp. The sting of rotten fruit mixed with the heat of fury, but she stood tall, her voice cutting through the uproar:
"You filthy bastards! You call her guilty, yet the man walks free. If there is shame, it belongs to him — not her. You're nothing but cowards!"
Gasps rippled through the mob, but their cruelty only deepened:
"How dare she speak like this?"
"Her tongue is poison, her honour is dust!"
"She is no lady — she is a disgrace!"
Sky Frost's eyes blazed, her tone merciless:
"For people like you, this is the only language worth using. Do you understand me now?"
The mob roared louder, their rage boiling over:
"Burn her! Burn that lady and kill her!"
"Tie her beside the witch, let them both rot!"
Two men rushed forward to seize her. The bound woman cried out, her voice trembling with despair:
"Go… leave me. It is my fate, I must bear it."
But Sky Frost stood firm, her body tense, her eyes fierce, her words ringing with defiance:
"No — never. I will not let this happen. I will show you how a woman truly fights."
The first two men charged at her, their faces twisted with rage. Sky Frost did not hesitate. Her bare foot snapped forward, striking one in the chest with brutal force, sending him staggering back. The second swung at her, but she pivoted sharply, her hand cutting across his jaw, dropping him to the ground.
Her movements were fierce and practiced — every strike sharp, every step precise. She fought with the confidence of someone who had trained for this moment, her body flowing like a weapon.
Two more rushed her, clawing for her hair. She twisted away, her voice a snarl that cut through the chaos:
"Not by my hair, motherfuckers!"
She flipped one over her shoulder, the man crashing hard onto the stone, then spun and kicked the second square in the chest. The mob gasped, stunned by her ferocity.
Then four more came at her. Sky Frost met them head‑on. She fought two at once — leaping, spinning, her kicks landing with ruthless accuracy. The crowd staggered back as she moved like fire, her body a storm of defiance.
When the dust settled, she stood tall before the bound girl, her figure proud, her lips curling into a cold smile. She struck a bold pose, her eyes blazing, as if daring the mob to come again.
Two men stepped forward, ready to fight. Yet before they could even raise their hands, they stumbled and fell flat, collapsing in fear. The rest of the mob broke, scattering in panic, their rage dissolving into cowardice.
Sky Frost's voice rang out, mocking, sharp:
"How did those two fall? I didn't even touch them."
The marketplace fell into uneasy silence. A few voices shouted threats as they fled:
"We will see you again!"
"This isn't over!"
But their fury vanished into the distance.
Sky Frost turned back to the tree. Her breath was heavy, her body tense, but her resolve unbroken. She rushed to the bound woman, tearing at the ropes until they fell loose. The girl collapsed, nearly sitting on the ground, her strength gone.
Sky Frost caught the young woman, steadying her trembling body. The girl collapsed against her shoulder, sobbing, her tears soaking into Sky Frost's clothes.
Through broken breaths she whispered:
"Thank you… for saving such a worthless soul."
Sky Frost's eyes hardened, her voice firm and bold:
"You are not worthless. I am here for you."
But the girl shook her head violently, despair twisting her face.
"No… I must die. I don't deserve this."
She pushed Sky Frost away and fled down the road.
Sky Frost's heart jolted. She shouted after her, voice sharp with urgency:
"Wait! Don't be reckless!"
The girl's long strides carried her quickly — tall, nearly Sky Frost's height, her steps wide and desperate. Both women ran, their breaths heavy, their pace relentless.
At last, the girl reached the edge of farmland. Fields stretched wide, a well standing solitary beneath the pale sky. She stopped there, trembling, her body rigid with despair.
Sky Frost slowed, her voice pleading:
"Listen to me… please."
But the girl cried out, her voice raw:
"No! I must go!"
Sky Frost stepped closer, her tone steady, her presence commanding:
"This is not your fault. Men hide their sins, and women are left to suffer. I know there is a truth inside you — one the world refuses to face."
Her eyes locked on Sky Frost, full of pain. She pressed her hand against her chest, her words spilling out in sobs:
"He lied to me… he said he was not married, he promised he would make me his wife. I never knew he was a noble. He took me, used me, and left me carrying his child."
Her voice cracked, and she lowered her head, whispering through her tears:
"And the worst part… I loved him. I gave him everything, and he destroyed me."
She looked up at Sky Frost, her eyes pleading, as if begging her to understand the betrayal that had shattered her life.
Sky Frost's tone softened but stayed strong:
"Hold yourself. I am here. I will not abandon you."
But the girl shook her head violently, her voice trembling with anguish:
"No one can help me. He killed my unborn child. When I told him, he gave me poison, saying it was for safety. I am doomed."
Her body leaned toward the well, her arms trembling as she prepared to throw herself in. Sky Frost's voice thundered, desperate:
"Stop! Don't you dare!"
She rushed forward, but her leg twisted beneath her. Pain shot through her body, forcing her down. Her breath came ragged, her vision blurred.