“What were your friends like, back at the orphanage?” Cyr asked.
Aio looked at Cyr in mild bemusement. Aio wasn’t asked about his past too often. It was the kind of thing, Aio realized, that most hunters didn’t pry into. Your life was your own, and hunters respected the sanctity and privacy of one’s past. As long as it didn’t affect the hunt, it wasn’t any concern of theirs. It was both a way of keeping one’s mind towards the hunt in a professional capacity, but also to prevent hunter squads from forming deeper connections with one another, as such closeness leads to its own set of problems upon the passing of fellow members.
This notion of respected privacy wasn’t all too uncommon in Neo-Kamakura, but Aio personally didn’t think it turned out how society envisioned it. After all, members of the Blackbirds, and even the Valkyries from what he’s seen, were pretty tight-knit. However, upon reflection, the closeness between the two Divisions feels more in-the-present, if anything.
Aio responded, “I was once raised in Madam Roberta’s orphanage located in the underground. There were about 20 of us or so, a mix of boys and girls. I had a few caretakers whom I care for very much, and all of the children were friends of mine. It was located a little way off from the Night Market, east of it, in a small village known as the Forest Village.”
“Ironic name, that,” Cyr mentioned.
“Villages in the underground are all like that. We name based on things we no longer have, but still secretly wish for. I think it is a reminder of what we could have again, if we kept our eyes towards the future.”
“I see,” Cyr said. He was walking casually, hands behind his head. “Have you kept in touch with any of your friends still since joining us?”
“I send them letters sometimes. My closest friend Arlan has taken up my spot leading the volunteering services after I left. Things are going well for the most part although…” he paused. “Well, ever since the rebellions, and the general living conditions of the underground, a few of my friends have left, and some had even gone missing. No one talks about it, but it’s not uncommon for those in the underground to turn up dead, for one reason or another.” Aio looked melancholy, eyes staring off into the distance in front of them.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cyr said. “I know how hard it is. I’ve had my own share of losses. Me and my sister both.”
Aio looked up at him. Cyr tried to keep his expression neutral, but his eyes betrayed a sense of longing.
“Well,” Cyr continued. “Since we’re in Lucens Mundi anyways, why not go to the underground and pay them a visit? From what I see, it’s on the way. We’ll make a stop at the Night Market, look for some information about the Trepidor brothers, and head east towards Forest Village. After that, we can go back around and find this “Guardian’s Village” that Alyx mentioned and see if we can’t learn a little bit more about the Onyx Technicians. Three birds with one stone.”
Aio beamed excitedly. “Yeah! Wait, three what now?”
“Never mind,” Cyr said. “Just an older man’s lingo.”
The pair reached a market square located out of the way in the city. Aio could see the Clan of Tributes’ three golden towers looming in the distance towards the district center, each with a jagged design, like fingers clawing at the sky in an incongruent geometric pattern.
The streets saw the hustle and bustle of dozens of shopkeepers and vendors. With every tent they passed, Aio could hear things like “the freshest fruit this side of Neo-Kamakura, sourced directly from Vitadale. Only twenty-give Emperor Dollars for each pound!” or “limited time offer for our latest in weaponry for new hunters looking to make their name known in the Fringe. We’ve got polearms, halberds, cutlasses, scimitars, shields – you name it! Discounts for affiliates of the Clan of Tributes upon proof of identification.”
“It’s almost as lively here as it is in the other market,” Aio said, keeping his voice low so as not to arouse suspicion. The Clan of Tributes regulated activity on the surface. Everybody knows that the Clan is aware of and trying to remove the Night Market underground, but due to its vast economic influence across the city, its vehement opposition to the Clan of Tributes, and it being the home to some of the most infamous hunters in the city, the Clan has had little to no footing in breaking through into the Market. Each Clan member’s name is required by the 2nd Agreement to be publicly registered in the hunter board database, and the Night Market has actively enforced a no-access policy to any members registered with the Clan. Even if the initial screening fails, hunter patrols make rounds through the Night Market to make sure any known or recognized members who have snuck their way into the vicinity are outed on sight, or worse.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“What makes the Clan of Tributes so influential?” Aio asked, a curiosity that no one ever seemed to talk about with him. Clan wars were only things you heard about in passing at the orphanage, and the only one he had any interaction with back then was the Lost Clans, which most don’t even consider a Clan, but rather a mishmash collective of miscreants, outcasts, the excommunicated, etc. of functioning society.
Cyr thought about it a moment, but only for a moment, before responding, “I guess the easiest explanation is that the Clan is technically one of the founding entities of our city.”
“Really? What do you mean by technically?” Aio responded.
“I said technically because the Clan itself has no direct connection to humanity’s founding, despite all the boasting they’ve done over the years. Their tenuous “connection” to the city’s founding comes from their ties to the current head’s great-grandfather, who was part of the original expedition team -Alyssa’s expedition team- which converted a rag-tag village settlement to the monolith of a city we know as Neo-Kamakura today. By the time the Clan was made, Neo-Kamakura was already a well-established settlement. And this was way back, before Johrei was even a thing yet.”
“Expedition? How did anyone survive out here before Johrei was found?” Aio questioned. It was impossible for Aio to imagine. Humanity couldn’t win against the Enthipids and wouldn’t survive the harsh weather conditions of the Fringe if not for Johrei.
“I…don’t know. Our history prior to the founding had been lost for a long time now. Supposedly the last documents recording the matter are found deep in the Fringe, in the danger zone. No one has ever made it out of there alive. Or…at least that’s what everyone says.”
Aio thought upon that matter for a moment. He never cared much about history, but it wasn’t as if he was curious about why Neo-Kamakura stood as the only place…where humans still thrived.
“Anyways,” Cyr added. “The Clan holds little sway over Division hunters, so you need not worry. They’ve lost most of their governance power when the city council voted to split the responsibilities and governance of the Clan of Tributes amongst multiple bodies of power. I think they saw the budding oligarchy that was the Clan at that time and decided they had too much pull over the small tribe of people that survived the wastes back then.”
“Is that why we have the three major Clans?” Aio asked.
Cyr placed his hand on his chin as they walked, thinking of an answer. Nearby kids were running past, playing with a small robotic rat designed to offer entertainment. The merchant tents began to thin as quaint mom-and-pop shops began cropping up around them, each sporting a themed look meant to draw in visitors from other districts.
“In a way,” Cyr began, “though what the council established was not the Clans themselves, but rather the set of rules which allowed for the establishment of such bodies. The founding Agreements, which they called it, created the contract-focused society we live in today. There are contracts between hunters and clients, between the city and its populous, between business partners, and more. Anything signed and sealed is law, and we’ve been doing it this way for as long as I can remember. The Second Agreement just happened to create a large-scale, representative-based discussion on what committees would oversee which parts of society, which, among other changes, effectively limited the broad jurisdiction of the Clan of Tributes. You should know most of those bodies by now.”
“The Clan of Venerers for Division hunters, the Clan of Tributes for…finances and mercantile trade I think, and the Clan of Voices for religion, immigration, and basic matters of work and living?” Aio said, counting off on each finger.
“Almost. You’re missing the Lost Clans, which cover anything outside the jurisdiction of the other Clans, and occasionally works with the Clan of Venerers on military and martial operations. You see them a lot running about Magrest and Tresgate. Lastly, there’s the Auditors, who operate independently as administrative heads of all things hunter-related, whether it involves Division hunters, the hunter job boards, hunter education, hunter communications, or regular hunter groups from the Lost Clans. Even the Clan of Tributes has to be careful. Though they can’t technically have official ‘hunters,’ the Auditors can still go after them if their activities constitute a ‘substantial involvement’ in matters normally delegated to a hunter.”
“And that has happened before?”
“Oh yeah,” Cyr responded assuringly. “And they got punished egregiously for it. You never break the Agreements, nor any contract. It’s probably why we don’t hear much about the Clan of Tributes anymore. They like to keep things covert these days.”
“What happens when a contract is broken?” Aio asked, though now he had a notion.
“Well, let’s just say you’d be lucky if all you got was long-term imprisonment and leave it at that” Cyr said.
That was a lot for Aio, but the city’s had decades to work this system out. In a way, this revelation has helped clarify many of the things Aio was confused about before regarding the world around him. He had always felt so ignorant of things, especially during his youth, when all that mattered to him was whether or not the floors were clean or if he would pass Madam Roberta’s weekly quizzes.
“A lot to keep track of, but I feel like I’ve learned a lot. Thank you.” Aio said.
“No problem. We don’t get to talk much so it was nice to get to chat a bit. Plus, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’ve arrived at our destination.”