29

(Guns ‘N Roses- Paradise City)

Desmond

I was hoping that a world with magic would have cities that wouldn’t remind me of the worst parts of the ones from Earth. Unfortunately, this part of the Hallax Quarter before the shinier metallic sections was more ghetto than I expected. Cramped darkwood workhouses and crumbling townhouses accented with copper littered the sun bleached area. They weren’t more than three stories tall, but they consumed entire blocks. It reeked of waste and I didn’t even need my nose to see which buildings were drug dens. There were sewer grates and sewage channels that seemed like the disposal points for waste, but the rotting piles of feces beneath certain windows said all I needed to know about how well the sewers were functioning. The people who lived in this quarter were mostly human, or jorlad, if the difference even mattered here. The occasional yeffen roamed, but even the poorest, dirtiest people distanced themselves from yeffen. The people living here were all either ghostly pale or cool dark tones. Higher up, funnily enough, were a lot of bug people. Ahead, in the city of gold, those closest to looking like gold were most common.

Our wagon should be passable for the farthest quarter so long as we keep Vetia and Adam out of sight. Brenden’s a bit iffy because he’s nyadin, but based on how the poor people are staring so stricken by him, or jealous of him, he seems to be a caste higher than all of us.

I listened in on conversations and brief exchanges, trying to pick up what I could before getting into the city. The people here were honest to the point of being insulting and their tones were usually confrontational. Then again, this Triali language was aggressive in general. Like a cross of German and Arabic with the snideness of the French. And boy did they get crass. The whole language seemed intense, almost to a fault.

As we reached the copper section, the culture remained the same, but people wearing copper didn’t speak to those in common clothes. People in bronze didn’t interact with either of them, and the trend continued upward. The people of less golden tones didn’t wear anything higher than copper clothes and would often make spiteful comments about the people higher in status than them. The word that kept coming up was “gild.” The gilded looked down on those without it, and the ungilded were resentful of those with gild.

The coppers shopped at the same market square as the ungilded, and the brass with the bronze, but none of the golden ones ventured out of their protected quarter. As it appeared, we were still in the lower Hallax Quarter. The upper Hallax Quarter was ahead, past the gate guarded by a golden armored garrison. The armor design was the same as the Amien Quarter, bearing a more gaudy design of wavy filigree patterns across their plates. The crest in the center of their chestpiece and above the gate was a nude, perfectly muscular man with long hair creating a sunlike effect around his head, arms outstretched toward the sky in a godlike display.

Brenden started taking some deep breaths like he was anxious.

“Take it easy, cutiepie. We get up to that gate and play it cool. If you act sus, you are sus.”

The entire wagon had a tense air about it. Just being in the city put us at risk if anyone was looking for us. We just needed to get into the Hallax Quarter.

Brenden’s eyes darted back and forth. “I’m not acting suspicious.”

“If I was a cop, I’d mag dump you on the spot.”

“What, cause I’m a minority?”

“Ah, don’t worry, I’m sure you’re one of the good ones.”

“You’ve really been doubling down on the racism since we got here.”

“I’m a human in a fantasy world. It’s my duty. Isn’t that right, Tells?”

She wasn’t listening. “Huh? Yeah.”

Brenden chuckled and shook his head. “I feel like I’ve been the sole target of it, though.”

“Yeah, you’re an elf. Fuck elves. But also you don’t immediately realize I’m joking like Vetia does. And I’ve been trying to think of new material for Adam other than Jolly Green Giant and Shrek.”

He looked back at Adam. “Maybe something about his tusks?”

“That’s the hard part, they’re not easy to make fun of. They’re kinda cool, honestly.”

“Maybe dorc? Like orc, but dork.”

“That fuckin’ sucks. Take your high school bully ass back to Drake and Josh.”

“It’s not that old. There were a couple girls in high school who called me a dork.”

“No fucking shot they did.”

“Just a few times. It didn’t insult me much, but I told them off.”

“They were one hundred percent flirting with you.”

Brenden’s eyes went wide. “You’re fucking with me.”

I was dumbfounded. “I thought Adam couldn’t pick up on social queues. How many times and who?”

“Just Jane and Cassidy, once each.”

“And you’re telling me this now?! Bro, they were super into you!”

“Yeah, okay, I get it. I fumble every woman who looks in my direction, I’m used to it.”

“You gotta tell me if you’re into anyone here or if any women talk to you. I’ll wingman for you, dude, cause you apparently need all the help you can get.”

“I’m not trying to do that while I’m here. Not yet at least.”

Vetia snuck up on his left and made him jump. “You got a homie on the inside now. I’ll listen in and tell you if the fantasy babes want a piece of that elf schmeat.”

He was getting flustered. “That’s not what I’m- get back in the wagon, demon woman.”

She retreated into the wagon, chuckling evilly.

I grabbed his shoulder to reassure him. “You deny your blade its purpose, Brenden.”

He growled out of frustration. “Shut the fuck up, we’re on deck for wagon inspection.”

“That’s what I call it when-”

“Desmond, can you just listen to them and see what they’re going to ask us?”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, dad. God.”

The wagon driver ahead of us sounded like an old man who’d been smoking his whole life.

“Wagon, halt.” The guard stepped in front of the wagon and held a fist out directly toward it. “I don’t recognize you. Who are you and what’s your business Hallax’s domain?”

“My name is Jerei Sal. I carry fresh briques for delivery to the Jzan Aukteln Riudjo.”

The other guard looked in the back of the wagon and held an open hand toward the first guard. The first guard stepped out of the way and waved him through. “Be quick. Keep your soot to yourself.”

The wagon passed through the checkpoint and we were up next. I leaned over to Brenden. “Not much in the way of useful. Just let me do the talking.”

We pulled up to them and the guard held a fist out to us casually. The guard wasn’t as rigid as he was with the older man. The second guard circled around the back of the wagon and looked in at the other three. The guard in front of us looked confused for a second. “Are dusty and tarny in the back your servants?”

Me and Brenden locked eyes for a second. I spoke up. “Not servants, just temporary hires. We’re traveling from out past Poikla and needed some extra hands.”

“Then I suggest you get them some gild or keep them in the wagon while you’re inside. We have no tolerance for useless filth. Do you have any regulated goods?”

“Not that I’m aware of. We don’t plan to be in long. Just makin’ a delivery.”

He glanced at the second guard, who held up a hand. The first guard stepped aside and waved us through.

We passed under the golden gate and emerged in the blindingly bright Hallax Quarter. Everything was shiny metal, even the buildings. Toward the gate, most of the buildings were brass, but as we came closer to the center of the quarter where a massive golden palace stood, the buildings began to match its majesty. There was definitely detailing on each building, but the reflections of the sun were just too bright to see clearly. Everyone inside was made up or dressed in gold or brass, often both. It was beyond excessive, not to mention the abundance of gold that was beyond unnatural. The whole quarter was like something out of myth. The city opened to a brick red cobblestone square, where merchants were breaking down stalls and packing their wagons. We parked the wagon on the far side of the square by a massive park of finely trimmed grass, shade trees, and beds of flowers. Brenden and I hopped in back for the game plan.

Adam dishearteningly leaned back. “I take it I'm gonna be staying in the wagon.”

“It won’t be that bad,” Vetia fistbumped his arm. “We won’t be here long. Hopefully. It looks like there are plenty of less gold people wearing golden clothes and the guards don’t have a problem with it.”

“Should’ve been born with a better skin tone, idiot,” Tells smirked ever so slightly.

“Ah, yes. Born.” Adam was getting irritated.

Brenden almost silently groaned to himself. “Alright, just chill. Desmond and I are gonna pick up some Hallax merch and we’ll be back.”

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I presented the bag of money. “Look, Papa Smurf gave me some pity money as he was leaving, so we should be fine. The guard was cool with me and Brenden, and really didn’t care about Tells. While we’re out buying stuff, Tells, you just say these two are your servants and give em a good smack or two if the guards start prying.”

Tells evil smile grew even further.

Vetia hid on the other side of depressed Adam. “Don’t hit me, I’ll cum.”

I shared a look with Brenden. “What could go wrong?”

He was much more worried than me. “Just don’t get us kicked out of the city or arrested or anything, please.”

Brenden and I hopped out of the wagon and took to the gilded streets of Vehfirn. I could still hear everything they were saying in the wagon.

“Your first order,” Tells declared, “is to duel for my amusement.”

“With pleasure, God Emperor Tells,” Vetia said. “Alright, Adam, I’m gonna-”

She groaned in pain right as I turned my attention elsewhere.

“They’re definitely getting arrested.”

Brenden glanced at me. “Huh?”

“Nothing.”

As we reached the center of the square, I looked out for somebody who was gilded, but not high status looking. All we needed were passable clothes to do what we needed in the city. That was easier said than done. Everyone we had seen was dead set on imitating golden statues. If there weren’t gemstones and other metallic accents adorning the quarter, then the whole place would have been completely solid gold.

Brenden rubbed his eyes aggressively. “Dude, my eyes are fucking killing me right now. How is everyone here not blind?”

For as much as Brenden had a tendency to whine, I couldn’t knock him for it. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head from how painfully reflective the place was. Only a select few merchants were still cleaning up their stalls, but otherwise, hardly anyone was out except for nappers beneath the park’s shade trees.

Shielding my eyes, I finally caught sight of somebody crossing by us. “Excuse me? Do you have a second, we’re looking for something.”

He had good posture, but the second he saw us calling toward him, his demeanor changed. He was a pale fellow with blonde hair and about the same height as Brenden. He patted his shiny cloak and fixed the collar as he spoke to us, an odd discomfort about him. “Of course, glisteners. What would you ask of me?”

Brenden and I looked at each other, obviously confused by what glisteners meant. I nodded and passed the conversation to Brenden. “We’re on the lookout for some gild,” he said awkwardly, which seemed to ease the guy we were talking to. “Would you mind telling us where you got yours?” He gestured at the man’s clothes.

The man’s eyes practically bugged out of his head. “Uh, my glisteners. Theses gilds are not worthy for two as naturally endowed as yourselves. I am sure there is somebody more worthwhile to ask.” He was trying to escape conversation with us.

Brenden got close to him and kept in a hushed tone. “Don’t worry. We’re just looking for something for some of our, uh, less gilded servants. We don’t care where it’s from.”

The man seemed horrified and embarrassed that Brenden was so close to him. He stepped back and pointed down where we came from. “I humbly apologize. A clothing tender called the Brassier is where I acquired mine. Follow the main way down until just before the Passage to Prosperity and it will be on your right. Good day.” He walked away hurriedly, hanging his head.

I was looking at the people who were whispering about us. They were ridiculing our lack of shiny clothes, but so many of them seemed especially envious of Brenden. They kept calling him “beautiful” and “golden” like he was some celebrity. It seemed like him being a nyadin was actually really beneficial here, because they spoke highly of the “naturally perfect nyadin.”

After a bit of walking and listening, my theory was ringing true, but we eventually found the Brassier. This store was coated in brass, not gold, but it seemed brass was just barely a step below gold in the hierarchy. The warmer one's skin tone was, the better they were. Too light and you were dusty, too dark and you were burnt. I was just lucky to be as perfectly tanned as I was, though I could tell that come winter, I might not be so accepted here.

We walked into the freakishly shiny brass building and it did not get any dimmer. Firelight and sunlight still glared off of everything inside. Whoever thought of dressing in metal had to be a complete dipshit and honestly deserved to get his ass beat.

Brenden walked right up to the front counter. “You got any cheap shiny cloaks? Four for about his size and one for a pretty big or- uh- jinian.”

Standing behind a desk with sewing supplies was one of those bug… people. The face was painted completely gold with brass highlights and a bald head that was just as shiny. It was somewhat humanoid, though more like an insect, but had a flat and wide mouth, no nose, and bulging round eyes that were a coppery color. A massive robe descended from the person’s shoulders as it stepped from behind the workspace. It almost seemed to be floating because I couldn’t see any feet kicking the robe. It had six hands with three fingers that were almost like pinchers with tiny sharp knobs at the ends as if its fingers were sewing needles. After selecting five folded brass cloaks from a variety of shelves, it approached me and draped one over my shoulders, hemming it to my size with incredible speeds. I was already a bit freaked out by the alienesque qualities of this person, but being up close I could see it all clearly, as the mouth slightly opened to reveal several sets of alternating vertical and horizontal teeth, the front set normal, the second set perpendicular to the first. The thing stepped away from me and stared me up and down, then went to Brenden and did the same. I couldn’t tell if he was more composed than me or not, he was just looking wide-eyed and leaning away as the hands draped the cloak over his shoulders. Our terrifying tailor placed the rest of the cloaks in Brenden’s hands and turned back toward the work desk. It was now that I got a glimpse of the feet. This person had a tail like a centipede, hundreds of tiny feet skittering along back to the workspace.

The head turned toward us and held out a bowl in a hand. A voice that sounded like it was monotonically vibrating and clicking to emulate speech came from this strange bug person’s chest. “All will cost fourteen gossies.”

Brenden looked at me, so I pulled out the bag and glanced in. All we had were silver coins, about thirty of them. I pulled out one silver coin and asked, “How many of these makes a gassy?”

The creature tilted its head. I could tell it was looking at me like I was stupid, even if its features were completely unreadable. “One senno is twelve gossies.”

“Okay.” I put two coins in the bowl. “Keep the change, and thanks.” I forced a smile and walked away. We stepped back out into the street just as a shiver shot up my spine.

Brenden was smiling. “That was super cool, not gonna lie.”

“You were always into feet so I had a feeling you’d be a fan of that thing.”

“What? I’ve never been into feet, that’s disgusting!”

“You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to yourself forever, Brenden. That’s why your nickname in highschool was piggy licker. Always trying to make those little piggies go to your wet market.”

“Piggy li- what the fuck are you talking about?!”

My interest in fucking with Piggy Licker dwindled as my eyes caught a small stream of smoke floating upward from a wooden wall where a few guards were standing. A small crowd was forming around a person who was holding a small flame sigil to the wood. I walked to the edge of the crowd, ignoring piggy licker for the time being. Everyone was looking at some kind of news board with postings all over it. The smoke was coming from a person holding a plank of wood with some drawings. He was burning them onto the larger wooden board simply by brushing over the wood with his hand, perfectly replicating them. The crowd was in the way of the new posting, but I could see a bunch of other notices of general news. People that were arrested or had died, conflicts between cities or maybe countries, upcoming events and a list of wanted people near where they were writing. The man burning images stepped away and the guards escorted him further into the district.

I muttered angrily for a second, pissed off at how obvious this should have been.

Wanted alive by Lady Simira Amien, heiress to the Viscount Hazjiken Amien. 15 sennos reward.

On the board were five images: a really ugly depiction of Vetia, an extreme racial caricature of Adam with comically giant tusks and a huge mouth, a pretty accurate picture of Tells, a mopey Brenden with stupidly long ears, and a surprisingly flattering picture of me, even giving me a sharper jawline. I knew she was into me. The bounty was on Vetia, but we were people of interest to turn into the guard for information. I glanced around and realized that people were only just now seeing the drawings. We couldn’t afford to stick around to get recognized, so I pulled Brenden’s arm and started back toward the wagon.

“What the hell, man, I was trying to read that. That’s information about this world we need to know.”

“Well this world’s lore is pretty weak from what I saw and I don’t want to stay there after seeing that we’ve got a bounty on our heads. Pull those daggers in, elf boy.” I pulled his hood over his head as well as mine while we hustled back toward the wagon.

“Fuck you mean a bounty?! Already?”

“15 silver coins for bringing us to Simira. Seems she won’t take no for an answer.”

“Shit, the guards are heading up toward the square. Shit shit shit. Vetia and Adam are gonna give us away unless we can get them covered up.” Brenden started jogging up toward the square.

“Ay ay ay!” I grabbed his shoulder and kept him walking with me. “Running is gonna make us really obvious, dipshit. We walk up to the square and scout if the guards have seen anything, then get in the wagon and take off if they haven’t already impounded the corties.”

We fast walked as inconspicuously as we could back to where we parked the wagon. It was still there, so I halted and gazed over the square. Nothing. No guards keeping watch over it, but also no sounds from the wagon. I glanced around, noticing only a few drops of blood behind the wagon. We walked up casually and hopped in the back, then I took the reins and got the corties going.

Brenden grabbed my shoulder. “What the fuck are you doing? We have to-”

“Yeah, good luck with that. Our best bet is to get out and come up with a new plan, find some information, etcetera.”

The guards didn’t even pay us mind on our way out, just monitoring the people coming in. I yanked off the shiny cloak once we left that golden Hell, we couldn’t afford to stick out even the slightest. We were getting eyed the whole way out of the city and I was doing my best to hide my face. I made sure to keep Brenden in the back where he was out of sight. Soon enough, we were greeted by grass, trees and farmland once again. The entire wagon shook as I directed the corties off the road and beyond the treeline. We halted a short way into the woods without a clue on what to do.

I leaned back and looked at Brenden holding his head in his hands. He lifted his head and put his hands up at me. “Desmond, what the fuck was that?!”

“That’s us getting a chance to regroup and not fuck up immediately.” I was pissed and I couldn’t hold it in. “We were supposed to be fine, that’s why the blue fucker paid us off, God dammit! And now we had a bounty on our heads because of a few arguments and a beat-down?! Fuck that bitch!”

Brenden’s heartbeat was rapidly picking up. “Okay, um, so where are they?! At Simira’s prison?! Her castle or wherever her family lives?!”

My head pounded from the stress.

Was that the right call? Running like that?

“Brenden, just shut the fuck up for a second so I can think!”

“What are you talking about?! Running was your idea!”

“Yes! Running to regroup and plan! I don’t have a plan yet!”

“Well what about our friends?! I’d rather run in and take a shot to save them than this!”

“They’re not dead! They’re not gonna die!” I angrily threw crates aside, pulling out one of the small barrels of wine and taking a massive chug. I caught my breath, calming down from the feeling of the wine warming my insides. “The bounty wanted them alive. Vetia’s a healer, so they’ll probably keep her for that. Adam and Tells didn’t do shit. I don’t know what the fuck she’s planning for them other than maybe hard labor.”

“Vetia’s a fuckin’ fireblood, man! If they find out, she’s as good as dead! Desmond, put the wine down, we can’t plan drunk!” Brenden reached for the barrel, but I just turned away and hopped out of the wagon.

“It’s fine! She’s not stupid. It’s not gonna be a problem. I just need a breather.”

“We don’t have time for a breather! Why don’t we go back and you can sniff em down?! Shit, you should’ve done that first thing! Now our chances of finding them are even worse!”

“God dammit I know!” I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a few breaths. “My head is fuckin’ pounding, man! Just gimme tonight to cool off and think. Figure out what our options are. Their lives aren’t in danger as long as they don’t do anything stupid.”

Brenden’s frustration wouldn’t subside. “You better have a goddamn perfect plan in the morning.”

“We talked to Simira, Brenden! She’s crazy, but she’s the type to use people, not kill ‘em.”

“I’m not sure which head your blood is flowing to when you think of her, because I remember seeing her almost kill one of our best friends in the fucking wagon!”

“I know! I know! Fuck! It’s a risk! Everything we do from here on out is a risk! I’m just trying to make sure there’s as little collateral damage as possible, man! Gimme a fucking break!” I slumped on the back of the wagon, resting my head in my hand, trying to calm my senses. Losing my temper always seemed to bring on bad nausea and horrible migraines.

It’s hopeless right now. There ain’t a goddamn thing we can do right now until we know what’s going on, and I don’t know how to learn what I don’t know! We have to get everything we do perfect or it could cost us our lives, even the smallest mistake. If we get caught up in some shit, they’ll take us, and if we run from them, they’ll chase us to Timbuktu. Going in to talk only guarantees us to be forced into whatever the fuck her plan is. Hell, that’s probably why she took Tells and Adam with Vetia… or maybe that’s the point of the bounty, to get us as prisoners so she can use us. I’d put money on it. Politicians are always up to some scheming bullshit. What a conniving bitch. If I tell Brenden about her mysterious plan, he’ll probably just get even more worked up, and that’s the last thing we need. The only good thing is the bounty’s probably too low a price for any pro bounty hunters to come after us, and Brenden and I aren’t the ones who are gonna earn them any money. Just gotta think through our options with all that in mind.

I sat back and drank wine until I passed out.