"What's the damage and can this be repaired?" A woman with an azure sash across her chest approached a dully-dressed bureaucrat in the centre of the burned-down market.
The man turned around, his eyes examining the young woman holding onto a gilded baton and tapping it against the side of her thigh. The giant gap in the domed roof through which the sun shined down directly where they were standing should have at least clued in the woman of the scale of damage sustained by the buildings in the riots.
"Blue Ribbon Commander, I believe that most of the outside walls can be reused." The man said while lowering his head to the shorted woman.
"Good, good. Dad would been incredibly angry with me if the building completely burned down on my watch."
It was odd seeing the cavalry commander almost jump into the air upon hearing the news and weirdly swooning over the lowly bureaucrat like him. Technically speaking he was correct, sections where the rioters didn't blow a hole into the brickwork were still very much saveable but everything else was completely destroyed and in need of rebuilding. In reality, even the still-standing stone would have to be toppled down or disassembled for the builders to be able to set the new wood acting as support for the roof of the pillarless hall. Nevertheless, he would rather be delivering good news to the Rikass heiress and simply not be there when the whole truth needed to come out.
"Commander Samira." From behind the adamantine mask of the Katafrakt behind the Rikass, a deep voice shook the jumpy Sophist back to reality causing the woman to freeze like a spotted animal.
"Ehhh... is there anything else I need to know?"
"I don't think there is anything worthy of you to concern about." The bureaucrat replied.
The blue-ribbon flanked on each side by two of Oriripol's finest warriors looked behind herself before speaking once again.
"How many slaves had been stolen?"
"In the chaos, one hundred and two slaves escaped and we only recaptured fourteen of them."
"Do you know how the dissidents managed to avoid three banners of House troops even with so many slaves escaping with them?"
"I wouldn't dare to answer a question about a different department." The man replied before scratching his neck.
"...Where is the main person tasked with investigating the mess which was that search?"
"I wouldn't know such a thing."
*Sigh* "I had enough of looking," The defective woman murmured dangerously before her eyes landed once again on the dull-dressed man. "Go wash your neck, I can see your skin turning black."
"As you wish!" The man lowered his head feeling the sudden harshness in the woman's sand-coloured eyes.
He watched the five leave through the newly cleaned remains of a corridor before his shoulders dropped and he weakly reached into his collar which had accidentally folded outwards exposing the inked skin underneath.
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"What you looking at go back to work!" He shouted as the slaves stopped working and stared at him.
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POV Change
The smell of wet rat entered Alexandre's nose as he slept causing his sleeping form to roll over as the skin on his nose and around it wrinkled.
"That's a twenty!" A shout pierced the air as someone excitedly stood up causing the sound of a chair striking the floor to follow soon.
"And? I still have the royal guard I stole from him!" Another voice shouted back.
"I landed on the Throneroom with these cards. I win! Give me the money now."
Swiftly after the sound of a fistfight rumbled above Alexandre as his eye finally opened up.
"Ugh, why is someone fighting?" He mumbled, putting his shoes on as he stood up.
"What do you expect from low-life gamblers? All the coppers on the table is more than he earns a year." A man twirling with a game piece replied, looking bored as he did so.
"Where is everyone?" Alexandre asks, remembering only collapsing onto the hardwood bench after avoiding patrols for the entire night.
"Basement." The man flicked his chin at the bartender looking extremely calm for someone whose livelihood was getting smashed over the heads of some drunkards.
With a single word and an expression saying it all about the man's attitude toward more questions, Alexandre stumbled toward the person behind the counter.
"Water?" The bartender asked.
"Please." Alexandre became imminently aware of his cracked lips and the feeling of sandpaper stuck in his throat as the memory of the last time he drank alluded him.
A fishy smell hovered above the clay mug. He might have not paid attention to where he was as the night turned to day but he instantly knew he found himself in the dockyards of Oriripol since in the rest of the city, even the best water has the hint of moss growing thickly down in the sewers.
"Are you the lockpicker Khalida brought?" The man with an impressive mutton chop for a moustache asked, leaning forward and resting his body on his elbows.
"Khalida?" Alexandre furrowed his brows upon hearing the name.
"Yes, the one covered in tattoos." The bartender answered the confused noble's silent question as he vaguely pointed at his skin. "Although everyone has a couple of inks in their bodies."
"Why is it always a bird of some kind?" The beady eye of a sparrow stared at the Senchor from the man's forehand.
"They fly and are free to live their life as they want, don't they?" The bartender answered wearing a smile while he cleaned the cup Alexandre had given back to him.
"I guess." Confused about how to answer the thief nodded along.
"See, the city had sucked out of you what freedom even is," A foreign word left the man's mouth before he continued with his words. "Go behind me and call over a redhead called Rudy." He patted Alexandre's back with a slight force before winking at him as he began to hear the sounds of many footsteps from just beyond the door.
Going through an ordinary door, Alexandre found himself in a room with a rolled-up carpet and a trapdoor. Climbing down he found himself in what looked like an old cellar for storing spirits converted into living space. Warm light illuminated the cramped space as he weaved through the odd arrangement of furniture.
"You just missed it." A familiar voice caught Alexandre off guard.
"Missed what?" The tattoed woman who had led him and others into freedom tilted her head as she seemed entertained by his jumpy posture.
"The preaching," She clarified. "I guess that's not a big loss you're going to hear them a lot from now on."
"I don't think I will have the opportunity to," Alexandre straightened his back feeling like he was pulled along for a ride he didn't truly want. "I just need to find my sister and we are going to leave the city forever."
"And you need our help to find her," The woman chimed in. "Not to mention to leave the city you need to look presentable and not like a runaway slave. I'm not forcing you to listen to them but for the time being, I can't let you leave given that there are still patrols looking for us. One is even behind you in the bar you just left."
"What if I hadn't woke up now?" Alexandre's voice sprung into a higher pitch as he realised how close he was to recapture.
"It's good for a bar to look lively and full of people so we left you there but being honest with you. They wouldn't touch a pissed drunk like you." Alexandre felt insulted before and in his frustration he looked down at his body and saw the tattered and dirty remains of the clothes he was given by the slavers.
"See even you are agreeing," The woman replied with a pearly smile. "Now tell me about your sister." Without a moment of pause, Khalida motions Alexandre into a corner of the big cellar and sits down with him.
"My sister, I and our stepmother lived in..." Alexandre began to speak to the woman who in the dim warm light appeared many lifetimes older than he was. As he spoke a quiet tune began to play from somewhere, growing louder with each pull of a string before a voice joined in.
"Nations, nations! To devils with the nations!
Standing in the way of happiness and elation.
Oh, if only there were no nations on Edor,
How happily we would thrive evermore!
For the good of humanity, for joy that's vast,
Joined in love’s embrace, a bond unsurpassed.
Joined in the mighty embrace of love
So powerful our bones burst with a crack!"
The song slowed down turning back into white noise in the noisy cellar as Alexandre told Khalida everything he remembered. He noticed a few of the slaves who previously only had an expression of indifferent sadness now a big smile dominating on their clean faces.
"I promise you we will find her." The woman extended her hands toward Alexandre's, resting them on top of his own.