The iron walls of the city of Gargenta served more of an esthetic purpose than a defensive one. They weren’t as thick as they were tall, getting up to fifty meters but only being two inches thick. Behind it was a stone rampart, hollowed out, where the guards were usually stationed in times of war. Times that had not come since at least four thousand moons, so now they were usually barren, and the guards were only stationed at the gate in the four cardinal directions. The city, still, was vast, and almost fifty thousand people lived inside its walls. A black cloud hovered on top of it, the last vestiges of the furnaces working at night that made a dome of dark, thick smoke, held inside the city by the magics that would later process it and render it innocuous, clearing the view of the sky.

Still, right now, it hovered like a storm cloud, creating a striking figure. The only thing visible from the road, that surpassed even the walls, was a singular, iron colored tower that was near the western entrance of the city.

The small sun had yet to start its trip in the sky, but the first light of day was already shining and giving the iron walls a clean, gray shine.

Brama and Dulci watched in fascination as these walls came to view, while pulling the carriage upon which Lazar and Liliane were resting. The three day trip was faster than they had planned, even if it rained the day before. The cover of the carriage Gino sold them was really the best, and thanks to a little bit of temporary enchanting, no rain touched the interior of the carriage. Dulci had been happy to be wet by the rain, and enjoyed the feeling of the droplets on its fur. Bramaboxa spent the last hours lamenting how he hated wet fur, being mortal, rain, clouds, being mortal again and how much its brother was enjoying it. It went on endlessly, and the old couple were really happy they knew how to isolate sound.

There was only half a mile before getting to Gargenta, and the cold climate was getting warmer the more they neared the city. It wasn’t a striking difference, maybe half a degree, but it was noticeable.

“Do you think they managed to resolve the coal dust issue?” Lazar said, pointing towards the cloud.

“You know they did.” Liliane looked toward her husband, a bit confused. “Your son showed you the air purifiers the last time we came to visit.”

“Bah.” Lazar grunted, crossing his arms. “Purifying only the air inside the homes, convincing them with a minty smell, and making people stay inside after the forges start to work isn’t solving the issue, it’s imposing a curfew and brooming the dust under a rug. Look at that black cloud hanging over the city!”

“I’m not blind, I see it too, but it has to be working. Our son never told us about any other death from the blackening, so…”

“So he might have kept his mouth shut to avoid making us worry too much, since… You know. He works Inside one of those murder machines every night.”

“Don’t call them that, come on. I’m sure the working conditions got better. It’s been ten years since we came here, they’re bound to be better..”

“When Tabitha was born, right. I miss that chubby little face. Do you think she got taller than two years ago?”

“Kids that age grow taller by the seconds, not to mention twenty moons.” The old woman fidgeted a bit with her braid, while Thyme and Spyce were resting on her legs, while sometimes going around inside the carriage, sniffing the new smells coming from the city.

“Do you think that Meredith is still upset?” She then asked her husband, “she never accompanies our son when he comes to visit us with our nephew.”

“I don’t think so. She’s probably just very busy with her work at the Count’s side residence. I mean, yes, your present for a newborn was a carving knife, but I believe that thinking back on it, she appreciated the gesture. It was a good knife, after all.”

“Enchanted to cut only plant matter, yes. So she could explore her creativity when she was older! It’s an important skill to have, being used to learn with your hands, as well as with your eyes.”

“And it’s almost time for her Numenuptial, so learning a bit of a trade should be encouraged. Still, your way It worked much too well with our kids.”

“They took my sense of aesthetics and your sense of curiosity. What did you expect?”

“Not to be left alone for years with only some letters and a visit on Numenuptials. They didn’t even come last year.”

“That’s something you have to talk with them about.” She stopped, thinking. “Well, that we have to talk with them about. I’m not excluded from this conversation, I’m just more used to having familiar attachment be less… tight.”

“When was the last time you saw your sisters, by the way?”

She started counting on her finger, starting with the middle one, “Ten… twenty…”

“It was twenty two years ago, love,” cut in Lazar, suppressing a chuckle, “I recall it because you three spent an entire day cursing each other until you were a prairie dog with a toupé, and kept laughing until it ended the day after. It was extremely weird.”

“Sure, by your standards, yes. We come from different cultures, after all.”

“Such barbaric practices”, he said, sarcastically.

“Says the one from the empire with the death sentence.”

“Oh come on!” he glared at her. “You know I’m joking.”

“I like poking you like this. You make it so easy.”

“You are really a terrible old crone.” Lazar scratched the head of Thyme, now on his legs.

“And don’t you dare forget it!”

“Oh, look, we’re at the gates, let’s join the queue to get in. I’m sorry sweeties, you need to hide.”

The two small rodents jumped in Liliane’s purse, after sniffing the air a bit more, and the carriage kept getting closer to the gate.

There was a scant group of carts, horses and people on foot, waiting for their turn to be inspected by the guards and let in, forming a line.

“Do you have your proof of identity?” the old woman asked Lazar.

“Which one?”

“Why do I even bother…” She rested her face on her upward facing palm, and regarded him. “The most recent one, then. But please, no shenanigans like the last time.”

“The last time was long ago.” Lazar grunted.

“Not for the laws of the empire…”

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The line was weirdly slow, the checks of the guard taking longer than they thought they would. Lazar and Liliane used that time to get on the driver’s seat. Lazar muttered a spell of invisibility to conceal the weapons and the supplies they had bought in Cranesworth, lest they were stopped for suspected contraband. The sun was fully visible on the horizon when it was finally their turn to be checked and get inside the city.

“Hello Sir, Ma’am.” said a tall guard, an iron helmet on his head and a baton on his hip. There were three other colleagues dressed in the same way, with just a tunic, pants and boots, while two others had a light leather vest and a lance in their hand. These two weren’t checking the carriages, though, but were waiting to the left and to the right of the open gate.

“Do you have goods you need to declare?”

“No, good sir”, answered Liliane, her husky voice putting the guard a bit on the back foot, “ we’re just here to visit our son and our nephews.”

“Can we check the inside of your carriage”, he replied, stopping for a moment, before adding “please?”

“Sure mr guard, check away.”

They got down the carriage, and a guard, together with a younger colleague, jumped up. They opened the curtains dividing the driver’s seat from the interior, and saw that it was empty inside.

“Didn’t bring supplies for your trip?” asked the other guard.

“Oh, no, it was just a short trip, we decided to travel light.” replied Liliane, patting her purse.

“Well”, said the guard that stopped them first, “It seems all is in order. Oh, right, I was forgetting. Show me your proof of identity, please.”

Lazar brought out a small wooden token from a pocket in his coat, and Liliane took her one out of the purse. The younger guard took out a light blue stone from a satchel inside his belt, and touched the two tokens with it.

“Mr Veslin and Mrs Liliane, hm? The proofs are real. Enjoy the stay, then! Who’s your son?”

“He’s-”

“Oh, you probably wouldn’t know him,” cut in Lazar, stopping his wife from revealing too much “but thank you for asking, Mr…?”

“I am called Frank.” said the younger guard. “Please, keep an eye out if he lives in the shopping district, we’ve had some issues there, lately.”

“He doesn’t, but we will, thank you for the heads up. Keep up the good work! Goodbye!”

“Good day to you sir. Ma’am.”

The old couple got back on the carriage, and started crossing the gate. A soft shimmering light sparkled as they did, but did nothing else.

“What do you think that was about?” asked Liliane to her husband.

“I don’t know, but I think we should ask around.”

Thyme and Spyce hopped out of the purse.

“You want to try and contact the colony of the city?” The two rats nodded, then squeaked, a bit annoyed. “They’re a bit snobbish you say? Tell them we may have some… incentives, ok? Thank you so much.”

“What incentives?” Lazar asked.

“We can buy lots of food for them.” She laughed, as finding the information extremely funny “I believe they wouldn’t object to a full stomach.”

“You’re really devious.” he replied, rolling his eyes, “Such an evil plan.”

Liliane cackled. “That’s called being smart, love.”

The rats waited for the couple to stop bickering, said their goodbyes, sniffed the air, and scuttled away toward one of the stables. It seemed a bit creepy, that one, with a cracked wall and untended grass on its grounds. The old couple looked at each other.

“Well. What’s the first thing we should do?”

“You should find a place where we can rest comfortably, first thing first!” Mooed Bramaboxa, who had been silent until now. “I’m tired of sleeping on the ground!”

“The grass feels nice under my fur” stated Dulci, munching on cud. “And in my belly.”

“You are so fucking weird.” Its twin looked to its left, where Dulci was. “Having fur is weird. Having skin is weird. And ehw, muscles.” It shook a bit, before calming down. “Still, find a stable for us soon, please.”

“Yes, yes. here in the outer part of the city we should definitely find what we need.” said Lazar, feeling a bit impatient now that they got to the city proper.

The city felt hollow near this particular entrance, mostly because it was the only one where carts and carriages could come in, and where there were the most stables. They occupied large swaths of space, with better or worse service, as it could be seen by the roofs, the quality of the grass and of the buildings, and even by the smell. All of them had purifiers that worked on the outside, but not all of them were top tier ones, and some were probably even malfunctioning, judging by the smell of coal. They settled for a nice one that offered forage, room, and even a guarded stall for the carriage (“It’s a really nice carriage, and for five silver lyres more we’ll watch over it” the owner said). With this matter settled, and a promise not to do as last time and check on them often, the old couple split up with Brama and Dulci.

“Where do you think we should start?” said Liliane walking toward the main street, “ shall we go check the temple?”

“That sounds like a solid idea, but maybe… we could go see our son first. You know. Maybe he can offer us hospitality, and he should be home. After all, the furnaces stopped working not too long ago, maybe he still did not go to sleep.”

“Do you remember where he lives?” the old woman seemed a bit uncertain.

“Yes, don’t you?” Lazar replied, before stopping dead on his tracks. “Wait. I think I do. I’m not sure. Where did he live again?”

“Eastern part of the city, right? Halfway between the shopping district and the furnaces.”

“At least he does not live between the furnaces as some of his colleagues do.”

“He should be safe now. They have purifiers and he has a mask on top of it.”

“Incidents can happen.”

“You worry too much, and the last one was from before he even started working!”

“This doesn’t mean it could happen again.”

“You really are a worrywart, aren’t you?”

“And you’re too *lassista.”

“Virtue’s in the middle. Ok. Point taken. You still worry too much, so let’s just check if he’s ok, no?”

“Yes, yes, ok.”

The old couple started moving along the main street. It was one of the two that crossed Gargenta, dividing it in quadrants. To the southwest was the enormous iron tower, next to the Numens temple, and weirdly, it was the poorest district of the city, and the tanneries. That was indeed weird because, just to the other side of the street, in the southwest, was the noble quarter, with the two Count mansions and a great number of high end shops and merchants houses. They came in from the north entrance, which wasn’t really that far from their son’s home. In the North east quadrant, rested the so called Black district, with its coal processing plants, furnaces and blacksmiths, and it was there that their son worked. His house was near the main street, on a parallel one, actually, in the other quadrant, the shopping district, where most of the activities, ranging from woodworkers to tailors had their activities and residences.

This time of day was almost a liminal moment, since the black district was going to sleep and the shopping one was waking up. Still, there was just a small number of people around.

“Was the city always so quiet this early in the day?” Liliane said, looking around while walking.

“I think so”, replied Lazar, calm. “After all, the blacksmiths and metalworkers should all be already sleeping right now.”

“I don’t know. It seems eerily silent. No kids around. And the guard said there was some problem lately…”

They finally reached their destination. A two story house, with blue glass windows and a carved door depicting a hammer next to a ladle. The work had been made by Liliane when their son married Meredith, whose family had been a line of cooks from generations, as a housewarming gift. It was also heavily enchanted against thieves and other unsavory sorts, but she never mentioned it to him.

Lazar put himself in front of the door, and was about to knock on it when it opened by itself.

Behind was a tall man, who looked not a year older than thirty, even if his real age showed a bit in the look in his grey eyes, and the wrinkles that flanked his eyelids. He had a head full of hair, tied neatly in a ponytail, black as coal was, and his skin was full of little scars, making a strange white constellation on it.

Lazar took a breath, as he always did when he managed to see him yet another time.

“Hello, Lazaro, my dear son. I know, I know, I should have sent word that we would have come, but there were… extenuating circumstances. Now, if you would be so kind-”

“Dad.” Lazaro stopped him before he could continue, “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but something urgent came up. I have to go to Daniel and Karin’s house right now. We’ll see each other later, ok?”

“What could be more important than your old people coming to visit you?” quipped Lazar.

“We could give you a hand if it’s needed, child,” said Liliane, glaring at her husband, “we’re two old goats but we’re still very competent people.”

The son of the old couple passed a hand on his face, sighing.

“They kidnapped my niece. And other kids. And yes, since you are here… we may need your help, da, mother.”