Spark

In the Warrens there is a small shop that sells produce that is close to turning. It's a ramshackle building that never smells quite fresh, but it's been cheerfully painted in brightly colored images of fruits and vegetables. The owner buys the items cheap from the vendors in the Central Ward and sells them at an affordable price.
 
Behind that building, if one goes down a narrow alley past the bins full of actually spoiled produce, one finds a small, nondescript shed with a door that doesn't lock. From the outside, it looks as though a stiff breeze might knock it over.
 
But those in the know visit the building now and again, going inside to find a small altar to Eosphorus. The altar is littered with symbols of the hopes of Warrensfolk. A pile of ashes that were once an edict from a noble. Handcuffs stolen off a rook and broken. A cup of stolen wine. A piece of stolen coal rests there, an offering from Nel. And one of her teeth, knocked out by Marlene.
 
It isn't an official temple, but it is a place Warrens folk go to talk to the god.
 
New visits the the shrine during the blizzard on Friday night, pulling the door shut behind her. The flame in her lantern throws shadows around the tiny shack. She takes her lucky button out of her pocket -- the one that Peter gave her before he stood up to Marlene. Before she made sure he died in the Pits. And she sets it on the altar.
 
She doesn't dare pray out loud, not even in whispers, not yet. The Warrens have ears, even here. But she prays silently and trusts Eosphorus to hear her anyway.
 
"A miracle happened, Eosphorus. I was struggling to feed them, the kids at the school. Going broke. I didn't know how much longer I could keep it up. Then Fodla showed up. Fodla herself. She gave me a name. And gave us a basket -- so that the kids at the school won't never have to go hungry again. When she learned that a lot of them don't have enough to eat she was offended -- angry. She loves them. Fodla loves the children in the Warrens. And I think you do too.
 
I never dared even dream of escaping the Syndicate. It just seemed right -- going from Sister Mila to Marlene. Well, not right. Familiar. The freedom that Khemma, Ghata, and me had run to had felt like a dream -- wild, exhilarating, and fragile. For Ghata, at least, it had been real. She'd found it on the seas. But I didn't think it could be real for me. And at least Marlene, the Syndicate, didn't want to separate Khemma and me -- at least not longer than my stint in prison. They mostly let us be together. Let us earn enough money to not starve or freeze. Let us help the kids not starve or freeze. For the last twenty years I told myself that was enough.
 
And then they let us have the school. And that was enough. Even though I don't know why they're letting us have this, what they mean to do with it, what it's going to cost. But it had to be enough. I told myself it was enough.
 
But...if the gods love the Warrens, then, Eosphorus, it ain't enough. It ain't just about me. Warrens folk deserve better. They deserve to live and not scrape by along a knife's edge between death and being owned. They deserve to have enough to eat. To be warm enough in the winter. To not have to pay the Syndicate to not hurt them. To have a school that don't threaten its teachers for wanting to do better by the students.
 
We deserve to be free.
 
I don't know what the next steps are. I know I ain't better than Peter or any of the other people who tried for freedom and died. But maybe it ain't the person -- maybe it's the timing. And if the gods are in Novandria, walking among us, helping us, then maybe the time is coming soon. Maybe it's okay to start hoping. Maybe hope will do more than break us, get us killed.
 
So we'll start with full bellies and gardens. Maybe a community oven. Maybe someday a place where folks what need money can borrow it from someone other than the loan sharks. Please give me--us -- cause it ain't just me and Warrens folk are capable -- wisdom.
 
I don't know where this is going, but Fodla kindled a spark. It scares me. But I don't want it to stop.
 
Thank you for listening."
 
She finishes, then turns and leaves the small shrine.