Wilvur took Synthia to his house to rest up and get showered for the morning (after she was vetoed on staying in her attic and simply taking a quick dip in the harbour.) Christoph decided to sleep there instead, (with permission of course), saying he'd go meet with the King once he woke up. Iggy, meanwhile, had gone home to confront her uncle.
Clicking the door open, Iggy gave a contented sigh as she saw the familiar sight of the interior. Although it felt slightly different. Talking with her nemesis and Christoph seemed to have flipped everything upside down.
Light streamed down from upstairs. The spiral staircase leading up to the second floor beckoned her upward. Padding across the rug, she ascended it, hair whipping behind her.
On the second floor, she headed straight for the drawing room. That was where her uncle preferred to do his thinking.
As she approached, she saw Uncle Tavel sitting with Aunt Mel. They both looked tired, staying up later than usual. She figured she didn't look much better either, but oddly enough she didn't feel an ounce of fatigue. Her mind had clarity it had not possessed in a while.
Her aunt reacted first, curly brown hair flopping around her head. "Iggy, you're finally back! Where were you all night? You didn't come home after seeing Tavel off, and then there was the alarm and I fell asleep in the front waiting for you! Oh, you had no idea how worried—"
"I'm sorry, Aunt Mel, I truly am. But I need to speak to Uncle about something."
Sitting up straight, Tavel grimaced. He seemed to sense what was coming.
"Tavel, I need you to be honest with me. You didn't agree to forcing the dwarves into slavery, did you?"
Mel began to laugh. "Oh, that's just absurd. What's possessed you, Iggy?"
Continuing to stare her uncle down, Iggy's solemn expression showed no sign of wavering. Tavel began speaking.
"It's a matter of the town's survival, Iggy. Push came to shove, and we, uh... we uh..." Tavel couldn't finish. He looked down at his hands.
"You don't deny it?"
"W-where did you hear it from? That square-jawed adventurer, or that thief? You can't trust—"
"Like hell this is about trust," Iggy shouted furiously. "You decided that the best way to help this town was turning a third of it into our indentured servants!? How the hell does it help anyone? You'd treat them like cattle before you'd have the spine to stand up for what's right?"
Tavel's began to stutter. "I-it was all d-decided by c-c-c-com... committee."
Even as he was forcing the words out, Tavel's shame caught up with him. He could insist he was in the right no longer. He only offered a small "It is wrong," in defeat.
Iggy shook her head. She looked at her shocked aunt.
"Uncle, Aunt, I thank you for all that you've done for me. I will always be grateful for that. But this... I can't stay after this. This is the same type of cowardice that led to me coming here in the first place. I won't abide by it."
Mel's head snapped up at that. "What are you saying?"
Iggy took a deep breath. "I'm saying I'm leaving. For good."
...
"Got everything?"
"Mhm."
"This is your last chance. Any books you want to bring along, toys, your map... maybe your globe?"
"I've got everything I need on me. You can take the rest of my stuff to your house or Penelope's."
Wilvur and Synthia were making their way to the front of town. It was now morning. She didn't smell anymore and had everything she needed tucked away in a leather bag slung over her shoulder. Her hood up, Wilvur had a firm hand on her shoulder.
"I do wish I could say goodbye to Iggy though..."
"Can't be helped. It's too dangerous. Besides, she might not even listen to you after everything you've pulled, ha ha!"
"But we're best friends, Wilvur!"
"And best friends always have to split up one day. Come on, let's not keep that young man waiting."
There was a crowd ahead of them in the square, however.
"Huh? What could this be? It's so early."
With nowhere else to go, Wilvur and Synthia pushed through the crowd.
"Good citizens of Asphodel, we have an important announcement for you all!"
The pair stopped in their tracks. The voice that had just rung out was Mayor Asphodel.
"I humbly apologize for the alarm last night. There were intruders that made their way into our humble town hall, and they had to be dealt with. It will not be long until they are captured. However..."
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Getting closer to the front of the crowd, Wilvur could now see the mayor, in a pinstriped suit this time, giving his address flanked by several similarly dressed council members.
"Wilvur, I can't see!"
"But you can listen. Be quiet."
The mayor continued.
"Our home is but one fishing port on the edge of the world. Rich we may have made this place, but I am afraid that what cannot be ignored any longer is the grave irresponsibility of this town's vagrants. That is why we request your help."
A murmur ran through the square. Wilvur's eyebrows furrowed.
"This is why, effective immediately, we are asking for your assistance in running Asphodel. At the end of each month, you will be required to pay a tax. Any unable to do so will be required to work off the difference."
The crowd bristled at this, their murmuring rising to angry conversation and a few boos. The mayor held up his hands.
"I understand this is difficult, but it will help prove who is truly worthy of being a humble Asphodelian citizen, and who must instead be put to adequate work for the sake of our future."
"Sure likes to use 'humble' a lot. Last word I'd use to describe him." Synthia pushed her bag into Wilvur's arms. "Here, hold this."
Surprised, he couldn't grab Synthia in time as she darted forward.
"Furthermore, we hope this will encourage bonds of trust to develop as we humbly move forward to—GUH!"
He was cut off as Synthia dropkicked him right in the solar plexus, sending him several feet back. The crowd, and Wilvur especially, could only gape.
Standing up and dusting herself off, Synthia pulled down her hood. "Man, I've been wanting to do that forever."
Looking up, she saw the council members getting over their shock and preparing to pounce on her. She quickly fired her grappling gun at a nearby roof to get away before they could make a move. Landing atop it, Synthia swiftly sat on the edge.
"Wait, that grappling gun from yesterday... is that little girl the Pickpocket?"
"That stupid pest is a girl!?"
The crowd reacted to this turn of events in surprise, but were drowned out by Synthia, having landed on the roof and sitting down on its edge. "Okay, now that I have your attention, let me tell you the real reason these guys are doing this."
Pointing at the mayor, who had gotten up with the assistance of a couple officers but was still shaky, she bellowed, "This no-good money monger is trying to squeeze you dry so he can turn the people he doesn't like into slaves."
Winded, the mayor tried to rebut that. "There is... no reason... to take... the word of some... some thief... over mine. Trust me. This is... the only way... our town survives!"
"Survives what? My husband not being around anymore to stop your buffoonish schemes?"
All heads turned to the southwest alleyway. Out came Penelope Kelvin, long silky hair reflecting the morning sun.
"Mrs. Kelvin! I heard the bad news! I had hoped to give my condolences at the funeral in the next few days—"
Penelope held up a hand. "It seems very clear to me that you are incapable of running this town adequately. Honestly, another tax on top of what the Styx government gives us? For shame."
Undeterred, Mayor Asphodel dusted off his robes. "It matters not. What I say in this town is law!"
Penelope began to chuckle, hand formed into a fist in front of her mouth.
"Something amuse you, Mrs. Kelvin?"
"Oh Mr. Mayor, I'm afraid to say that your word isn't law as of... four days ago, to be precise."
The mayor's face scrunched up in puzzlement.
"An out-of-town doctor wasn't the only reason why my husband took his trip. He decided to do some investigation of his own."
Producing a sheet of paper tucked into the back of her waistband, Penelope waved it back and forth. The official Styxian emblem of a small boat was on the seal. It was the same one that had been in Gren's chest. "This is a report. About an error in buying out the land. Apparently, Mr. Asphodel here has been paying off officials from investigating his fraudulent claim. The Asphodel family never bought the land to begin with. They simply kept bribing higher ups into saying they did.
"My husband had done a great amount of work in uncovering this conspiracy. Had to call in a couple favours but it bore fruit in the end. The state no longer recognizes the Asphodels as the owners of this land. It's free property once again, and we're free to cultivate it as such!"
Clapping erupted, with Synthia being among the loudest. Penelope beamed.
"We can institute an actual election, to elect a real mayor! Not one who bleeds us try for our hard-earned money! Does that sound acceptable to you, King?"
Through the crowd, a stout figure emerged. Some residents gave him an alarmed glance, though he ignored them as a rare smile graced his features. "Aye. I'd like to put this place back on track."
Penelope nodded. "And we will, my friend. No matter how long it takes."
She turned to the mayor. "You've lost, Asphodel. Officers, arrest him."
Snarling, the (former) mayor wouldn't give up without giving one final pathetic attempt at maintaining his power. He ripped himself out of the grip of the officers and pointed a bony finger at Synthia, taking her aback.
"And what about her? Are we leaving her unpunished? That brat kicks me, humiliates me, runs amok in this town as a dirty little thief and she receives no retribution? If we're all deciding karma gets me back, then maybe you should take a look at her!"
In the crowd, Wilvur began shoving forward. Unlike Synthia, he couldn't make his way up too fast. There were too many people in his way!
"Do you know what she is? Not only is she some accursed half-breed, she possesses the eyes of the cursed August Moon demons! Everybody born with those is destined to bring misery and misfortune!"
The crowd, reaching information overload, could only glance at one another and exchange whispers in their confusion. Synthia was panicking.
Not again... I can't go through that again, I—
"I swear, I saw them myself! Gold eyes shining in the dark, revealing her true nature! Maybe I'm not the source of troubles! Perhaps it's her, riling up the dwarves and forcing me into implementing this foolish tax! She should be strung up and left to rot! Put down like the rabid, pathetic and monstrous little bitch she is—UGH!"
Not another word escaped him. Wilvur had reached the front of the crowd and delivered a sharp jab to his jaw. Asphodel fell flat on his back again, eyes crossed.
"Stupid bastard."
Turning around, Wilvur shook out his hand as Asphodel was dragged off. "Well, you heard the lady. Things are changing around here, and for the better. Won't have to deal with this idiot ever again, I promise you that."
Penelope elaborated. "The Pickpocket never did anything illegal per se. After all this excitement, it makes no sense to punish her."
"So just go about your day, pay no heed to what he just said. Raving mad, as you can tell!"
With a few bursts of laughter and many looks of confusion, the crowd finally dispersed. Wilvur gave Synthia a wink, who gave a thumbs up in return. She pointed to the north end of town, indicating she would meet him there. With that, she took off.
Wilvur could only sigh. "Leaves me with the luggage. Figures."
He looked at Penelope and the King. "Wanna see her off?"
The two of them nodded.
"Of course, Wilvur."
"I guess I owe the brat that much. Although I guess there's no reason for her to leave anymore, with the mayor out of the way."
Smirking, Wilvur said, "I know Synthia. I think she's had about enough of this place. She still wants to go."
Laboured pants came from the other end of the square. The three turned to see Iggy wheeling a giant suitcase of luggage behind her.
Approaching them, she put her hands on her knees, struggling to regain her breath.
"Mr. Ros... I hope it's not too late! I wanna... hahhhhh... I wanna go with Christoph on his journey."
Looking at their faces, she grew puzzled. "Did I... miss something?"