Enver and Theon hurriedly left upon hearing the news; knowing that they would have a busy night ahead of them, Seren packed them food and necessities before sending them off. Rhetta and Mira hastily left after them, but not before Rhetta nagged Seren about safety.

              Seren was not at all concerned about the bad omen the disaster implies; it was an accident. But she did not expect its impact on the villagers; they took it as an impending disaster; their harvest hasn’t even recovered from the early onslaught of storms on their island and now another tragedy. They started rushing onto every temple of the Wind God, hoping to appease his anger by praying.

              Rhetta joined in on the hysteria and dragged her daughters, granddaughters, and her reluctant niece into the nearest temple with her; she woke them up at the crack of dawn and hastened them to pray. Seren was reluctant; she was an atheist but her family was unaware. She doesn’t understand why she must join in with the unrest, but Theon sent her a message telling her to follow their aunt and cousins to the temple.

              Rhetta wanted them to sit in front of the statue to show their devotion, but Seren refused and decided to sit at a secluded spot near a small altar of the Wind God. As the hum of the devotees’ prayers droned on, Seren dozed off. She was comfortably leaning on the altar when a rush of footsteps woke her up. Unconsciously stretching her arm, she accidentally swung her arm at the statue of the Wind God at the altar and it came crashing down. The statue broke at the neck, decapitating the Wind God’s effigy. 

Gasps and screams of horror echoed inside the small temple.

              Goddammit! I screwed up this time, Seren thought inwardly, mortification sinking deep in her stomach. The townspeople already have an unfavorable opinion about her, being the island’s disappointment, a woman who cannot even marry. An anomaly that has steadfastly broken the norms by wanting to be a government official despite being a woman. Arbitrating eyes scanning Seren, meagerly dressed in a burgundy cotton dress, cuffed and buttoned up; her wavy pale hair hangs loose behind her, her face bare, with dark circles under her eyes.

              The eerie silence resonated for a few minutes; petrified faces stared dumbfounded.

              Seren tried to pick up the broken figurine but her hand was smacked away by her aunt, silently admonishing her with her eyes. This was disrespectful and a bad omen.

              “What have you done!” Helah, Rhetta’s eldest daughter, admonished with a horrified face while holding her two children. Her wiry red her crowning her pudgy round face, freckles covering her nose and cheeks; her dress rumpled from managing the toddlers.

              “Hush, sister. It was an accident, right, Seren?” Mira tried to pacify the situation.

              “I—”

              “You have insulted the sanctity of the Wind God’s name by defiling His holy figure. The storms that ravaged our harvest have only been a premonition of His anger; the High Priest’s plight a forewarning of His rage. And now…” the priestess of the small temple perused the young woman before her with slightly veiled contempt. She has been assigned to this temple for more than two decades and it was the first time she was met with such disaster.

              “I—I’ll compensate it.” Seren stuttered after a covert pinch from her aunt. But with what money? She thought privately. All the money she had was used up to keep the insanely big but empty house her father left them. Theon’s wages were secretly kept and were never used, to be used if he decides to have his own family.

              The priestess stared at her incredulously, “This young woman, do you have any idea how precious the statue of the Wind God was? It was made by the new Archmage of Kalopsia upon His Royal Highness Prince Mirza’s request and was bestowed to our island as a pledge to His Holiness, the Wind God. There was only one of its kind in the world, basically a priceless artifact of our kingdom.”

              Reproachful eyes skimmed Seren as reproving murmurs echoed in the wide hall. Jittery, Seren sighed wearily at her luck, knowing that she would never hear the end of it once she got home. Rhetta shook her head at his niece’s debacle, disappointment etched on her face stood in front of Seren, and stared down the residents’ arbitrating eyes.

              “It was an accident and my niece was repentant. She understands the importance and the sanctity the statue of the Wind God represents and was even willing to compensate despite not knowing its worth.” Rhetta stared back at the priestess with piercing eyes.

              “Her repentance will not bring back the statue.” One of the townspeople answered back. “The sincerity of our prayers is marred by her deed. “

              “That’s right.” The others joined in, the anxious people ganging up as fueled by their unease.

              “Or she could have it fixed.” Another one suggested and an assenting murmur followed through.

              Fixing it means she must go to the Central City in the mainland, by braving the ravaging storms. Only a suicidal lunatic would want to take a boat in the middle of the Wind God’s wrath, all islanders know this. They wanted her to risk her life for a meager statue, how laughable. Seren understands that ruining public property is inappropriate no matter if it was accidental or not. But to push her off the precipice for their selfish hypocrisies is not an answer to it.

              Seren was ready to throw hands but the hand grabbing her wrist tightened, her aunt's eyes pleading her to not make a scene.

              “Think of Theon.” Those words were enough to calm Seren, no matter how prejudiced the situation was it would reflect badly on her brother. It would mar Theon’s career, and being the assistant magistrate of Mistral, means cutting his wings before he could leap to fly.

              Seren could accept every prejudiced opinion about her, she was used to it. She could not drag her brother down too.

              She nodded her head and accepted their pleas. “Alright. I’ll take it to the Central City to be fixed.”

              Seren sighed as she sat on her unkempt bed, she was not able to fix it before leaving in her aunt’s haste that morning. Rhetta’s voice reverberated on the empty hallways, Mira tries to calm her mother in a hushed voice. They were waiting for Seren in the receiving room, knowing the laymen waiting outside the door can hear everything. Seren hastily packed her bags, grabbing some provisions in case of emergencies; the broken statue tightly bundled, leaning on the door.

              The door opened harshly, almost knocking the statue again, as Theon stormed inside furiously. “What madness is this, Seren? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

              Seren smiled at him tightly, expecting this reaction. “I must take responsibility for my actions.”

              “These people are egging you on to your death, do you know that? I understand their anxiety, but why must you do this right now when the storms are still devastating our island?” Theon grabs Seren's shoulder, wanting to shake some sense into her. “Once you get to a boat, its like leaping to your death in this weather. They are asking you to sacrifice your life for theirs.”

              “I know.” Seren placated, touching her brother's face lightly. His rain-stricken face was awash with worry, knowing he rushed home upon hearing the news. “I will not die. I’ll just have the statue fixed and come back.”

              “I’ll do it instead. Stay here and—”

              “No.” Seren firmly rejected the idea. “They need you here, you’re the assistant magistrate. Your responsibility is to put the island’s welfare as your priority. You’re the head of the Arryn family, you cannot leave.”

              Theon stood stoically; his responsibilities hung heavy on his back. He watched his sister smile sadly at him, rubbing his back, knowing he could not change her mind.

How could her small figure have such courage? He could still remember his sister’s hand holding him when they were younger, the strength in those small hands, the warmth in those first winters that haunt his nightmares.

              A rap at the door broke him from his reverie.

“Seren? Do you need me to send you?” Enver's worried eyes scanned Seren’s small figure. He tried intervening, but politics got in the way. Being the Head Magistrate of Mistral means he had all the power and none.

              “No, that’s fine. Theon’s sending me.”

              Rhetta, Mira, and Enver watched as they left, the heavy rain still not letting on.

A/N: That's what I imagine Theon looks like. lol. credits to the owner of the image.