The coastal port extended majestically along the great City of Elker, like a maze of activity and commerce where diverse people swirled about to both buy and sell.
The cobbled streets of the port were bustling with life and activity. Wagons and carts, laden with crates and barrels, vied for space with hurried men and women carrying documents and precious cargo. There were never a shortage of citizens hunting for wholesale deals directly from the distributors, nor were there lacking wandering fortune seekers disembarking at the port, or wandering adventurers seeking the best clients for their services.
The sound of squeaking wheels, the hooves of motheros, and the claws of aradanes striking the ground echoed in the air, mingling with the murmur of voices and the squawking of seabirds, dissipating into the salty sea breeze.
The businesses established in the port represented a wide variety of industries: from shipping companies and traders of exotic goods, to textile factories and carpentry workshops. Each building proudly displayed the name of its owner, engraved in golden letters or enamelled on its facades, symbols of wealth and power.
Such mercantile hustle and bustle extended beyond the port of Elker, traversing the largest arm of the Pocuán River to the west gate of the City. Lieutenant Roldus knew that area of the city better than any of his peers. He had trained there when poison-swollen weeds spread their corruption over all remnants of the ancient underground city of Rea, he had eradicated with the fire of his hands the plantations of invasive vines, and had tended to the vacant lands until the restructurers erected the buildings that comprised Elker today. The port —indeed— was one of his favorite places. The lieutenant had spent countless nights traversing that arm of the Pocuán River while perceiving the slow —but steady— development of that area. He had seen how the restructurers were laying the cobblestone floor and how the crowd of merchants invaded the land with their stalls.
The lieutenant had spent so much time in those lands that he couldn't help but feel an attachment to them, just as he couldn't deny that the roots of evil had advanced to corrupt everything to such an extent that it was impossible to save. They weren't as easy to see as the malign vegetation from time immemorial that had invaded those lands before the city was erected, but their effects were more devastating than those of that plague. The corruption of Elker could be perceived in the cracks of the walls, the distant columns of smoke, in the emaciated faces of the less fortunate, or even in the ambitious gaze of many of the traders. The shouts, the smiles, and the movement of the masses masked those signs of malignity, but the lieutenant could see them reflected in every face as he walked through that place. The city of Elker had no salvation.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
His friend accompanied him on that walk, which was far from being for pleasure, wrapped in Asmodeus's usual disguise with which everyone recognized him. He ignored the bustle of the people as if it were part of the evening breeze, but he cast furtive and intense glances at those who approached too close to his body, bumping into them when the crowds gathered in narrow streets.
His state of alertness was instinctive, almost inherent to his own person. The presence of his pupil, Abigail, who was walking beside him holding his arm, forced him to sharpen his senses even more.
Asmodeus occasionally glanced over the hustle and bustle, beyond that commercial opulence, directly towards a poor and disadvantaged area that stretched to the foothills of the mountains on the other side of the river. The ramshackle houses —built with humble materials— huddled together. Their windows were broken, and their doors wobbled with the slightest gusts of wind. The narrow alleys were filled with beggars and barefoot children playing amidst dirt and misery. There were colonies with decent buildings that could almost be considered an extension of the City of Elker itself, but they did not improve the reputation of the marginal area. The elevation of the city on the other side of the river allowed everyone to see that place down below, increasing their feelings of superiority and revulsion towards those who swarmed in that neglected community: low-grade usshyers and sickly arcabassys who secretly agonized until falling upon some bush.
The contrast between the wealth of the port and the poverty of the surrounding area was palpable. While businesses flourished and traders accumulated fortunes, the inhabitants of the poor area struggled to survive day by day, facing the cruel reality of the era in which they lived.
The anguish of some memories was reflected in his friend's eyes. The lieutenant would have wished not to be able to imagine what he felt, but he did. The young girl beside him, Abigail, was surely the only other person in the world who understood a small part of what was going on in Asmodeus's mind.
Despite the evident division between opulence and penury, the coastal port remained the epicenter of the city's economic activity. It was a place where dreams of wealth met harsh reality, where businesses thrived and lives intertwined in a complex social fabric.
Amidst this backdrop of contrasts, the scents of the sea and soot mingled in the air, creating a unique and distinctive atmosphere. The sounds of port activity merged with the lamentations of the less fortunate, forming a discordant symphony that told the story of an era when the gap between wealth and poverty was as evident as the violent waves of the sea crashing against the distant pier and leaping forcefully over its walls.
Marginalized people often distrusted everyone else. The lieutenant had already seen it, or suffered it. They did not allow themselves to be helped by the authorities, not even by the altruistic people of the city. They only trusted each other and marginalized everyone else. That was their way of feeling that they were getting revenge or taking control for everything they were done to.
The little brothers of Pocuán were hidden in the depths of the marginal area, where the forest thickened and the rocky terrain of the mountains of Elker prevented shelters from being erected that were not stone crevices or twisted trees. I heard that a kind old woman had managed to get close to them, but I wasn't sure how much she had achieved, if she had fed them or was just earning their trust. Abigail tried to take her master to where they lay, for she had faith that he would resolve the matter, but he refused such a task, more passionate about revenge than justice.