2. The Silence before The Symphony

It was a dim and rainy day.

Inside the market store, the Manager (40) was sitting on a stool behind the cashier’s counter. His back was slightly slouched, his arms were loosely folded, and his eyes were mostly closed; his mind was—in the past.

Ever since he had founded the market store eight years ago, there had always been a need for an employee to help around to keep the store’s operations afloat; even more so when Eliza had started her side job as specialist-for-hire from two years back.

The Manager had told Eliza before that if she happened to know someone who would like to work here, she should introduce the person to him. Of course, considering that the prospect of hiring someone was the least of her interest; therefore, boring to her, she never did. Thus, he never expected much of her regarding hiring. In fact, he had thought she had forgotten about the matter completely.

Thus, it was a surprise for him when, today, Eliza had finally brought someone.

The Manager opened his eyes and glanced forward.

There, the potential hire was, sitting on a stool in front of the cashier’s counter. Her long black hair covered a large portion of her face, her faded-white shirt suggested years of repeated use, and—adding more to the surprise—she was completely soaked in rainwater from top to bottom.

I can’t help but have this peculiar feeling that Eliza had just randomly picked her up during the rain, the Manager thought. After all, if the person was a planned recruit, she surely could have waited until after the rain had stopped? The fact that she was wholly soaked in rainwater only suggested that Eliza had been impulsive regarding this matter… Get yourself together. I need to trust her, not doubt her. I’m sure Eliza gave her own considerations before bringing her here.

‘So,’ the Manager begun this unplanned interview, ‘what’s your name and age?’

‘… Quin. 15.’

Her age is close to Eliza’s. Maybe they could be friends. That’s good. ‘Okay, Quin, why do you want to work here?’

‘I don’t.’

The manager blinked. ‘You don’t…?’

‘That girl… she carried me here.’

At the word “carried”, the Manager could imagine Quin being picked up by Eliza like a sack of rice. That girl… The Manager pinched his forehead. So, this was on impulse after all! ‘Eliza!’ he shouted. ‘What did I tell you about carrying people against their will?’

‘It was raining!’ Eliza shouted back.

‘That’s… not a good enough reason!’

Soon, Eliza emerged to the front of the market store. She had changed to dry clothes and was toweling her wet hair. After tossing a towel to Quin, she addressed the Manager. ‘Just hire her.’

‘I can’t hire someone who doesn’t want to work here.’

‘She needs to work here,’ she corrected.

‘…’

When Eliza was being serious, based on the Manager’s personal observation, her stare would have a certain unwavering quality to it. A stare that showed the resolve to take responsibility over the decision should things go awry. Right now, he was looking at exactly that.

She must have a good reason for wanting her hired, the Manager concluded.

He glanced toward Quin, giving her another look. Now that she was drying her hair, he could finally see her face. Her eyes were that of a hopeless night sky void of moon and stars, showing only endless nothingness. He knew that hers was a sight that couldn’t see tomorrow.

‘… I can’t force you to work here if you don’t want to,’ the Manager told Quin. ‘But—would you like a one-week trial phase?’

***

Cling. Cling.

Tavar entered the market store. Upon looking at the cashier, he noticed that Eliza wasn’t alone. Beside her was a girl wearing the same black apron.

‘New employee?’

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‘Mm-hm.’ Eliza and Quin were both looking at a book, holding a pencil each.

‘Double-checking the record book?’ Tavar took off his wet coat and hat.

‘No. I’m teaching Quin how to read and write.’

‘…’ Tavar didn’t know what to say. In this day and age where publications could easily be accessed, being illiterate was rare. Although there were things that Tavar wanted to discuss with Eliza, matters relating to their corrupt mayor, he would rather leave them be for now. ‘Where’s the Manager?’

‘He’s checking expenses at the back.’

‘Alright, thanks.’

As Tavar walked toward the back, he half-expected Eliza to ask him of his progress; she was now involved in his case after all. However, her silence was loud and clear, and her disinterest was shown in full view.

He couldn’t help but wonder what was going on inside Eliza the Still’s head.

***

The skies were grey, and the rain continued to pour.

Behind the market store, in an alley where moss had settled on the bricks, the Manager offered Tavar a pack of ice-cream.

‘Sorry it’s not smoke. Eliza banned that for me.’

‘It’s alright.’ Tavar took the offer. ‘Thanks.’

‘How’s your progress?’ The Manager ripped the plastic packaging and revealed a strawberry ice-cream.

‘Good. Public’s reception of the news has been in my favor. Because of that, our corrupt mayor will now be brought into a trial that is scheduled for next week.’ Tavar too ripped the plastic packaging but revealed a chocolate ice-cream.

‘Congratulations.’

‘Not yet, Manager. I still need to appear in that trial and bring my evidence into the court. Only then will this be finished.

‘However, Ganesh won’t stand still and allow that to happen. I’m sure that, as we are speaking, he’s devising a plan to prevent me from appearing in that trial. I’m expecting that he’s going to send people to erase me.’

‘… And you want Eliza to keep you safe until then?’

‘Yes. I’m sorry about involving your niece into danger, Manager. Unfortunately, I have to abandon stealth and remain in a location just in case the court demands something from me.’

‘… Can’t be helped.’ Finally, the Manager took a bite of his strawberry ice-cream.

Tavar followed his lead and bit his own.

For a while now, ever since Tavar had given Eliza the job of escorting his wife, she had been helping Tavar as a dependable bodyguard. Whenever he had to abandon stealth and had to appear in unsafe places, her protection had proven to be valuable to him. Whenever threats emerged, usually men equipped with flintlocks, Eliza would handle them with relative ease.

There was that one time he saw her cry after dealing with an assailant.

‘What happened?’ he had asked, concerned.

‘… I—’

‘Say,’ the Manager said, interrupting Tavar’s recollection, ‘got any news on the recent arsonist case?’

‘I haven’t investigated anything else ever since Ganesh. What about it?’

‘While you weren’t here, Eliza had taken a request to investigate an arsonist case that had been happening recently. This morning, she had gone to the scene of the first arson, and… I think that’s where she had picked up Quin…

‘I want to know what happened to her, but I still can’t ask her directly…’

‘… When I finish my case, I’ll help you out. Think of it as my gratitude.’

‘Thank you, Tavar.’

The sound of rain filled the silence as they ate their ice-cream.

‘… I’m bored,’ Eliza had said, despite having dealt with men equipped with flintlocks.

‘… Manager, how did she become a specialist?’ There were countless rumors on the method to earning the title. Some said that one had to take a secret examination for it, some said that one had to steal it, some said that one had to be lucky to get it, and so on. The one that Tavar personally believed was that one had to undergo a rigorous training, much like how militaries would choose their elite squads. He wondered if that was the case and if that was why Eliza saw things differently from him.

‘… Two years ago,’ the Manager began, ‘I had an important meeting with a supplier and left the market store in Eliza’s hands for a few hours. The supplier was an honest man and the meeting had gone well; I had secured a connection to get apples for a fair price. It was a good day.

‘When I returned, however, the whole market store was a mess. The shelves were wrecked; its splinter spread everywhere, the items were in ruins; mostly torn apart or crushed, and… Eliza was unconscious on the ground.

‘I ran to her, checked her pulse and breathing, relieved upon finding that she was alive. I wrapped her arm on my shoulders and lifted her up. As I did, something had fallen. I took a glance and saw a black metallic card. She earned the title that day.

‘When she awoke and I asked, she said: “I lost in a fight.”’

The Manager ended his story there. Tavar’s wonder, however, remained. ‘Is she like that ever since she became a specialist?’

‘Like what?’

‘Finding things boring.’

‘She’s always like that.’

***

‘Is it alright?’ asked Shuri (27). Her hair was white, and her skin was pale. Her red eyes were observing the market store afar. ‘For us to remain passive like this?’

‘You can’t rush a piece,’ said Bach (32), his tone calm and soothing. The man was sitting on the floor, back rested on the brick rail guard, strumming the strings of his lyre. The notes he played was unaffected by the pattering rain. ‘Haste makes waste.’

Both Shuri and Bach were currently at the top floor of a tall bell tower. This retired building which had before been used to alert civilians of emergencies in times of war was now being used by them as a temporary base to stake out on the market store where their target was located.

‘I’m not rushing. I just think we’re not accomplishing much by—someone is getting out.’ Shuri grabbed her binocular and observed through it. ‘It’s her.’

Eliza had stepped out of the market store. In front, she first stretched by pulling her hands back. Then, like a little girl searching for toys, looked left and right in surveillance. Her sight then wandered toward the bell tower, toward Shuri.

‘She’s looking at me.’

‘Sounds about right,’ Bach remarked. This bell tower was the best place for a stake out on that market store. Because of that, it didn’t come as a surprise that she was knowledgeable enough to check here. He could hear her. ‘Eliza the Still…’ He plucked a string with strength, creating a strong note. ‘She’s a violent melody, disguised with a calm tempo. If she picks up the rhythm… it’ll be a piece I’ve never heard before.’

‘But it doesn’t matter.’

‘Doesn’t matter.’ Bach nodded. He held a palm on the string, killing the vibrating note. ‘Her sound would never suppress mine.’

Aware of the enemy, Eliza turned the market store’s sign from “opened” to “closed” and—simply went back inside.