The Orb of Wrath

  *******

  It was already late, and Ronu hadn't noticed. She had been entertained in the upper quarter, where artists exhibited their works in the street. There you could find a bit of everything: paintings, sculptures, antiques, jugglers, clowns and theatrical street performances. There was a continuous bustle of people in a lively and bohemian atmosphere. It was the liveliest area of ​​the city and, for her, a shelter. Unfortunately, the flea market on the street began late in the afternoon and, whenever she visited, she got home later than usual. She preferred not to be late, especially, to not worry her mother. Although she had never understood what she had to worry about. In Bergen nothing ever happened.

  She had bought a couple of small chandeliers for her mother. They were old and very beautiful, and would look good in the dining room. In addition, they had cost just a couple of gold coins. She had to bargain and use all her charm on the seller. But undoubtedly, she had gotten a great deal. Her mother would be pleased. She expected this would compensate her mother's concern for her tardiness.

  After leaving the high district, she decided to cross the center through the park. It was a little darker, but it was a great shortcut. In addition, it seemed to be a very romantic walk, among the namal and ronto trees in the moonlight; they were her favorite trees. She walked happily through the Central Avenue of the Park. It was a beautiful night, after a lovely day. It had cooled a little after sunset, but the temperature was still very nice.

  She had hardly seen anyone since she had entered the park. Years ago, some constables guarded there at night and at other sites around the city center. But they had long since reduced the abundance of patrols to cut costs. The town was very quiet and there was hardly any crime.

  She kept walking. She only heard a few sounds: her footsteps on the path, the sounds in the park's garden (a cricket, an owl or a branch swaying in the wind) and her own breathing. She was nearing the end of the avenue. After arriving at the goldfish pond, she turned to the left, to go to the Gate of the Ronto.

  In that area of the park, the trails were much narrower. The forest was much lusher there, and seemed to barge menacingly over the road, leaving little space for pedestrians, especially on a busy day.

  Suddenly, unexpectedly, she fell forward. She could barely avoid hurting herself or damaging the chandeliers, after breaking the fall with the palm of her left hand. She got up slowly, a bit dazed, as she checked her dress. Fortunately, she had not torn it and didn't stain it. She felt a bit stupid. With the darkness, she had not noticed that the root of a tree had grown deep into the path. She had stumbled and had fallen like a child.

  She resumed her way towards the gate. She could already make it out in the background. She had a few steps to go. It seemed that the temperature had dropped another couple of degrees; her thin jacket didn't cover her much, but it really wasn't that cold. She continued walking while trying to pay attention to where she stepped to avoid tripping again. Finally, she reached the gate and left the park.

  She was pretty close to her home, but still had to walk through the neighborhood. She crossed King's Avenue, which ran across the park, and had to stop because a horse-drawn carriage was passing at a certain speed. It was completely black and very elegant. Something about it caught her attention, but she didn't know what. After crossing the avenue, she entered through one of the main roads that would take her close to home. There were some people on the street, but very few. It was already quite late. After walking a dozen blocks, she finally reached a junction where she took the left path.

  Her house was only a hundred steps away. She walked two blocks and took the last turn to the right into her street. Her mother would surely be waiting for her.