text: (IP) Risk They had begged her not to go, had said that it was too dangerous. If she’d said she wasn’t afraid, she would’ve been lying. But their tiny mountain town needed to be saved, and there was no other way. She’d packed food and clothing for the journey, as well as her staff and her massive phoenix. Her parents, especially, had been against it. After all, she was their only child, and the only daughter in their family lucky enough to inherit magic. But she had to do something. The plague had slowly overtaken the village, and more than one person she’d grown up with had been buried. “We’re nearly there,” She said to the phoenix, her hand rooted in its feathers. The warmth emanating from it soothed her, but she knew she couldn’t stand on this mountain top for long. Throwing her bag over her shoulder, she climbed onto the bird, and they took to the sky. She was haunted by how many people had died, their skin speckled with sickly green spots, their eyes wide and bloodshot. All she had to do was find the temple, and steal the sacred herbs within. It might have meant offending a goddess, but she couldn’t let anyone else die. The world blurred into a blue-white landscape of snow and ice, and Kiara tucked her fur cloak more tightly around her. She directed Mara down to a dip in the mountains, an ice-encrusted valley. They kept close together as they walked toward the temple; Kiara’s heart raced inside of her chest like a galloping horse, and the wind roared cruelly in her ears. The temple was made of quartz and lapis, and they hurried inside. They found the temple dark and cold, with a faint scent of incense. Reluctantly, she had Mara stay outside; she was simply too big to fit within the building. Kiara waited until her eyes adjusted to walk inside; she walked down the nave of the temple, the skin on the back of her neck crawling. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. She spun around, her eyes searching. “Who’s there?” There was no answer. A statue loomed at the front of the room, formed entirely of lapis. It was of the goddess of healing, hair flowing outward as if teased by the wind. She wore a benevolent smile, and inside the basket in her hands, were bundles of herbs. The exact herb that her people needed to survive. Quickly, she walked up the nave to the statue, stuffing the herbs in her bag. Even if she was cursed or struck with something, she would risk it, for her people. “And what, exactly, do you think you’re doing?” A voice said behind her, and she had to bite back a shriek of terror. When she turned around, she saw an ordinary young woman, but her eyes were glowing blue.