I walk through town at a brisk pace, air fresh and skies clear. Quite a nice day today. According to my contacts, the orphanage children leave for the forest at the third bell, so I set off extra early this morning.
Today is the day I have tentative plans to meet Aria, but I will not be waiting around the shop with hopes that she shows up. No, there is far too much to do, and far too many questions for which I need answers. So I cross through the central plaza and turn north, long before the days' market has been set up by the lower class merchants.
They are out and about, getting their small wooden stalls dressed up with various sorts of fabrics to cover the tops, dyed with common, cheap dyes and composed of cheap, if well maintained coverings. Upper class merchants wouldn't give the completed shopfronts but a passing glance, though they certainly get by better than those in the district toward which I'm heading today.
Speaking of my destination, all the way in the far northern district, I naturally decided to bring a bodyguard along. No sense in going into such a dangerous area unprepared. Of course, it isn't like I dressed up especially for the occasion. Aria may be an odd one, but she is only an orphaned peasant; I hardly have need to worry about maintaining upper class dress and decorum around her. But of course, every garment in my wardrobe costs at least a month's salary for low class peasants such as these. No matter how much I've attempted to dress down for the day, I'll be an enticing target in such a place. The worry may be misplaced, given the generally empty streets at this early time of day, but you can never be too careful. Besides, today's meeting is worth the extra preparations.
The few pedestrians in the street begin to eye me warily. Thus, I know I have entered the peasant district. Of course, that's if the low quality, broken up cobblestones composing the road underfoot weren't indication enough. I kick up a few of the cobbles with the toe of my boot. When was the last time this road was properly maintained? Not to mention the smell, there is chamber pot waste left in the street, as if the sweepers have not bothered to visit this area recently. No matter, I resolve to bear with it, for the sake of this important meeting.
The intention of today's meeting is actually twofold. Or possibly threefold. The first, is of course, exactly as I described last week. I want to meet with that strange child, Aria, and ask about the numerous discoveries she appears to have made. Of which I'm certain that there are many more than she has let on. Since I have only had a single chance to speak with her before, I'm still having a frustratingly difficult time pinning her down.
I thumb at my chin idly as I consider the oddness about her. A tiny child, like a four year old, or more likely five since she's a peasant child and they tend toward malnourished. Yet inexplicably adroit, seeming to think things through to a degree I have hardly seen in others, much less in ones her age. She speaks cleverly, but at the same time fails altogether in any efforts at deception.
I feel as if she has totally separate, disconnected personalities. Sometimes acting exactly like the small child she appears to be. Other times, a highly intelligent individual with a level of mental capability easily triple her apparent age. And still others, totally reticent, shutting down and denying any and all investigation of her thoughts. For instance, the plain disappointment written across her face after she didn't drink much of her juice at our initial meeting. Such a simple and childish reaction, exactly what I would normally expect from one her age.
But what about her not drinking the juice in the first place? What could her reasoning be? Of course, that's not even getting into the way she drank. Small, tentative sips, as if she expected the juice to be poisoned or some such. I may not be well acquainted with any peasants, but even vulgant and divant class children her age would normally greedily guzzle down a sweet, delicious drink like that.
As I weigh the contradictions against one another repeatedly while walking, I still can't work it out. My best guess so far is that the child has built up layers upon layers of defenses and vulnerabilities, all overlapping one another, so you can never tell whether you have gotten past her guard or not. Supposedly, such behavior speaks to a traumatic upbringing, though I have thankfully never seen such a thing for myself before. Normally, I would venture a guess that it had to do with living at the orphanage, but that can't possibly be right.
My contacts painted the orphanage caretaker as a thoroughly vile individual, who uses loopholes in the laws to sell the children under his care into what amounts to slavery. Taking their word and jumping to such a conclusion would be dangerous as it could poison possible interactions with the man in the future, but Aria's mention of him taking all of her belongings does seem to support such a portrait. For now, I'll need to stay wary, if ultimately undecided.
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If it really is such a case at the orphanage, I could absolutely imagine such an environment turning a child into a taciturn and defensive person. However, that can't be the case with Aria, can it? She said she has only been living there for hardly a month so far. Unless the daily abuse at the orphanage is so horrendous, I can't see it turning her into the walking mass of idiosyncrasies she is so quickly, such that she alternates wildly between wide eyed child, apparent savant, and closed-off trauma victim.
That brings back one stand-out memory from our first meeting. Her expression is still burned clearly into my memory. The only time I felt like I made it through her walls and she was about to tell me something in confidence, she suddenly shut down without warning. She clearly appeared scared of something, but what could she be scared of? Not me, certainly. She's not stupid, she must know I can offer vast wealth and prestige, far above her awful station in life. There shouldn't be any downside to her working with me.
What is it then? Something at the orphanage, or from before her time there? I know nothing of her past yet, so it is entirely possible that her incongruous personality was built before her short time at the orphanage. It could be related to her questionable lineage, another topic I would like to explore, if we have the opportunity today.
My quick pace brings me toward the North Gate with plenty of time to spare before the second bell. I will ask her out for breakfast. An offer of free, tasty food should get her to come along, though I will certainly need to consider bringing her friends with her. The older girl, Emily, seems like a decent child, but without any particular special qualities like Aria. She hardly spoke last time, so I can't guess whether she has the same defensive, shut off nature. But from the little I did see of her, she gives the impression of a normal child, so simply being nice to her should be sufficient to earn at least a modicum of trust. Lastly, Maven, though they only mentioned the name to each other once, so I don't know anything about the child.
As I approach the block where the orphanage stands, I turn my thoughts from Aria briefly, and frown. My second reason for today's meeting is more... troubling. Possibly useful, but exceedingly troubling. I walk down the correct street, grimacing in distaste at the surroundings. The spacing of the timber used in these buildings is atrocious, every piece thrown together with no care put into the construction whatsoever. Rusted nails protrude from their boards through years of neglect, where the wood hasn't already begun to rot. I can actually see directly through some of the eroded gaps. They must let the wind inside, and the heat out in winter. Attempting to ignore the crumbling state of the surroundings, I walk up to the one building that stands out. It too reeks of poverty, despite its comparatively imposing size, but that is a given in this area. At least there are no visible marks of decay along the front of the building. If the caretaker is in fact exploiting these children, at least he appears to be using some of those ill-begotten funds for the upkeep of the place they live.
I knock on the front door with a few loud raps, and wait. It doesn't take long for a child to open the door. An older child, nearly an adult already, dressed in what amounts to dirty rags. He even has dirt smudged all over his hands, and on his face. The smell isn't particularly strong, but that's comparing it to the waste left in the streets to bake in the summer sun, which clearly speaks to how long it has been since this child last washed himself properly. I swallow my disgust, keeping a passive expression. He looks over my guard and myself with suspicion plain in his gaze, before asking what we want, rather boorishly.
"I am here to meet a child named Aria," I reply pleasantly.
"New girl? She ran away." I blink. She did what?
"In that case, could I speak to Emily?" Not one to lose my composure, I smoothly move to request her friend instead. If Aria has disappeared somewhere, certainly she will be able to enlighten me on any details.
"Uhh..." the boy scratches his unruly mop of grimy hair and begins to turn around, just as a girl bursts through the door past him. I stumble back a step from the unexpected motion, while my guard moves into a defensive stance, but the girl goes right past, her clothes flapping wildly behind her as she sprints down the street. Was that...? Even as my thoughts alight on it, the boy looks down the road after the girl before addressing us once more.
He points and says, "She ran away." I sigh and run a hand through my hair. What is going on here? The strange situation is somewhat agitating, but I really need to meet Aria today. "Come on, let's go see," I call my guard, and we start heading north, after the running Emily. Where is she going in such a rush, at this time of morning?
Then I feel it again. This must have to do with Aria. I pick up my pace as the certainty strikes me.