For a moment I just marveled at the honey wine before indulging in a gulp. Sweet, then bitter, a little spiced, burning. It made me a little light-headed. Last time I’d lived with Jember was the last time I’d had any … it tasted like home.

And at that thought, the wine turned to poison in my mouth.

I put the bottle in my satchel and rushed into the protective net of roads. While the two main roads and marketplace were dust, the rest were cobblestone alleys, no wider than to allow either one cart or two adults walking comfortably side by side. And, on either side of the streets, a line of ten-foot-tall squared-off buildings made of concrete and cement, separated only by either the bright colors some had been painted or a perpendicular alley to continue the net.

The city had been designed to withstand war—if the enemy managed to get through the wall’s defenses, they’d be met with a labyrinth to navigate if they ever wanted to reach the epicenter. But of course, wars had bypassed it completely, to the disappointment of the architects, I’m sure. Now the only people available for the labyrinth to confuse were tourists and drunks.

I wove through the streets quickly, trying not to seem rude as I greeted people without stopping.

Only when I reached the main square did I slow down.

The church was the oldest building in the city, weathered red-stone raised on a platform of a dozen stairs. As regal as Thorne Manor, but more elegant and dignified. Even without the platform it was three times as tall as everything else, four flat walls attempting to reach the heavens.

I pulled my netela out of my satchel and covered my head, securing the scarf around my neck, before heading up the stairs casually so as not to draw negative attention.

The soothing rhythm of chanting grew with every step, opening up into an echo as I removed my sandals and stepped inside out of the sun. The colorful paintings of saints on the walls and pillars of the entryway greeted me with kindness and scrutiny in turns. Incense nipped and tickled my nostrils. A large white curtain blocked my view of the sanctuary, simultaneously blocking me from being instantly noticed. Everything was just as I’d left it.

It wasn’t my home anymore, in the physical sense, but my mind felt more peaceful than it had in weeks.