Hanhas, they were called, the big, square-shaped gardens that intercut the city sections. They did increase travel times, but Saketa found that to be another mark in this society’s favour. So many of the more unified, centralised and developed societies she’d visited focused on nothing but convenience and ease, reducing anything and everything to machinery of some form or another, including people.
The spirit needed tending. That was as universal about people as language or sewage. And a touch of the natural, the wild, even if only in a controlled environment, was a big part of that. Humans had not evolved to live in city blocks.
There was a decently-lit main path through each one that Saketa had seen so far, but she preferred stepping off it and walking in the deepening darkness. Striding amidst trees and bushes, darkened enough that she couldn’t see that they were tended, she could almost pretend that she really was striding through the wilderness. Thoughts intruded, of hunts back on Kalero, of meditation spots deep in the forest, of groups of trainees following an elder on hikes.
She stroked a branch in passing, feeling the rough bark against her skin. There was a moment of nostalgia, and perhaps even happiness. But the darkness was waiting beyond that small crest, and more recent memories now intruded through the gap she’d opened for those happy ones.
The darkness was always there, watching her carefully, waiting to drain the joy out of anything, like some dreadful parasite on her soul. And her seeming helplessness in the face of it was infuriating.
Go into battle with a clear spirit. That was one of the simple but important lessons stressed to trainee Wardens again and again. And of course it was true. But here she was, breaking it.
She arrived at one of the man-made rivers that crossed the hanhas; springing from the canals like tree branches. She’d discovered earlier that they were shallow enough to wade, and now she stopped at the edge of the bank.
There was a strong urge to just continue on, straight towards the reckoning that she’d been searching for. Her quarry had evaded her quite often enough. But she really ought to be prepared.
Saketa looked around and reassured herself that she was alone. The night was young and there were surely people about in this particular hanha, but she was alone enough in this unlit corner of it.
She took off her boots, and for a few breaths she savoured digging her bare feet into the grass. Next she was very glad to shake off the coat. Her sensitivity improved drastically, by the standards she was currently living with, but it could still improve. Off came the leggings and the mesh shirt, and finally her underwear, and she strode into the river. It came up to her calves, and she welcomed the refreshing chill.
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In the middle of the gentle stream she knelt down.
The element of life.
She let her fingertips play at the very surface of the stream for a bit, just barely getting them wet. Then she got on with it and relaxed into a meditative pose.
It was a little bit easier. With nothing between her and the rest of the universe, with peace and calm in the vicinity and the soothing babble of water in her ears, she was able to find a certain balance, and with balance came connection.
It felt like straining a muscle that had been allowed to wither, but she found just enough focus to sense the energies about her, about everything, and the way they flowed and gathered.
She felt it. To the north. A great wellspring of energies. The place of power. She also felt the way it had been tainted, like water mixed with sewage. There was a sharp, angry, poisoned quality to the energies.
Saketa opened her eyes. She would have to get closer to be certain, but it seemed she’d found it. Either her quarry himself, or one of the fires he left in his wake.
She rose slowly and waded back to the shore. The clothes went back on, coming in between her and the universe, muffling its energies. She missed her old suit. But she didn’t have it, and needed to both keep warm and not be accosted for ‘indecency’.
She finished crossing the hanha and entered another city district. It was as sensibly planned as the others, and balanced out the inherent dullness with more of the ever-present plantlife. She seemed to have reached something of an entertainment district, given the number of drinking establishments. She also passed by a house with a somewhat garish front, and sensual silhouettes on either side of the main door. It sported a plaque with a symbol that matched the one she’d seen on the tunics of those Tanga warriors. This place was a brothel, and the symbol was a mark of either ownership or protection. Of course, one rather indicated the other.
Some things truly were universal. Which was why what came next didn’t surprise her at all. As she crossed yet another hanha her environment declined noticeably. Regardless of the merits she’d witnessed so far, any society that grew taller than a basic level would cast a shadow. There was always inequality to some degree. There were always people who wanted more than they needed, which of course created an imbalance. And if some planet offered both plenty and safety to its natives, then offworlders wanted a piece of it. Man was always in conflict to some degree.
It started small, with the hanha being less well lit and less tended than its cousins. Then, going off the main path as she did, she spotted the people camping amidst the trees and bushes. When she crossed over into the district the signs became steadily less subtle. The buildings were less maintained, there were far fewer businesses of any kind, the streets were more littered, and many of the apartment blocks had the look of having been thrown up in a hurry. If the exterior windows were any indication, most of the apartments were quite small and cramped.
This was the capital’s poor district, and it reeked of all the problems such places inevitably bred. Saketa was not the least bit surprised at the corruption she felt in this area’s spiritual energies. They were fed on the people’s misery and anger and despair, and in turn fed those very same emotions right back, in a dreadful symbiotic exchange. And in a place such as this a person with a certain kind of sight, and a certain kind of sensitivity, could take advantage of it all.