34
(Keane- Everybody’s Changing)
Tells
He’s so cool. The way he pointed the hammer at me and then did that thing where he started throwing that bird around by its neck. That was fuckin’ awesome. I yelled out to him. And he heard me. I’m just glad that my words helped him win, live. Yeah, we boys. I gotchu, motherfucker! Nah, shit, that was just badass. I’m just glad he lived. That shit scared me for a hot minute. I don’t know, maybe I’m being stupid, but he seemed like he was having a great time. I never really noticed how strong he was, to be able to lift that bird like a wet noodle and whip it around so effortlessly. That can’t be normal, his strength.
“Tells. Tells!” Lady Simira stopped walking and ripped into me with her gaze.
“What, Lady Simira?”
“So you heard nothing of what I was saying. Fucking brilliant.” She sighed irritably and moved on. “It wasn’t that important, but listen to what I tell you now.”
“Of course.”
She kept side eyeing the hallways all the way back to her study, where she quickly shut the door and slumped in her chair. “You do want to leave this manor at some point, don’t you?”
“Y-yes.” I replied quietly and a bit meekly so I wouldn’t upset her.
“Listen, you cannot inform anyone about this. Not your friends, not any of my most trusted people, not my father. If this makes it out then you’re never leaving here with all three of you.”
“I know our agreement, Lady Simira. What do I have to do?”
She sighed. “Don’t stress, it won’t be too heavy on your end. Tonight is going to be rather chaotic, as the filth-ridden proceedings usually are. I have been signaled that everything is in motion now. You will deliver a letter for me, and you will be receiving one in return. Speak to nobody on the way, nor in the manor while disguised. This part is not very high stakes, but it may be the most important part. I need my half of the deal, and he his. Can I be assured that you can complete it?”
“Yes, my Lady. Should I know what I am delivering? Where must I go?”
There was infallible motivation and unbreakable will behind her eyes. Behind her gray, exhausted eyes was sheer determination. She peered at me for a moment longer before her face softened and she relaxed her shoulders.
“You will be meeting the informant on the bench next to the plot of simiras in the park of the Upper Hallax Quarter. I believe that is near where you were apprehended, on the other side of the trees.”
“What do simiras look like?”
She cracked her neck and rose from her seat, gesturing for me to follow her across the room to a painting. In fact, I hadn’t really noticed the paintings before. Every painting was a portrait from a different time. Around the room was a timeline of her life. A man and woman in the first painting, wearing pale orange colors, two identical toddlers in their laps. The man looked similar to the twins. He had a strong, dignified build with tanned skin and dark straight hair that was parted in the middle and fell to his neck. He looked confident and youthful. The woman next to him was the same age, but her eyes and slight smile looked like those of a wizened owl even though she was so young. She was slightly paler than him, but her eyes were a radiant orange, matching the vibrant chestnut hair and a braid exactly like Simira’s. She looked like she may have been pregnant, but it was hard to tell from the painting. Nevertheless, everyone in the painting looked overjoyed, no matter how tired the parents appeared. The next was the same parents and the kids around maybe five years old. The next looked like preteens, except the mother was gone and the father was not smiling anymore. It was stoic and emotionless. His hair graying and his face showing its age. The kids were the same bleak way. And three more paintings from their tweens to early twenties, still stoic, except Tarynn who had a slight smile in the final one.
She pointed to the first painting, at a flower in one of the twin’s hair that was too small to see from afar.
“It’s a small, bright orange perennial that grows in fiery little patches.” The face that was usually so intense stared lovingly at the portrait. “The hundreds of tiny petals in such abundance have tricked people into thinking that there are pools of fire in the middle of the forest, when it’s really just sunlight glistening off of a sheen of nectar.” She hadn’t been looking at the flower at all. Her nostalgic eyes were focused on her mother with a pained smile. She carried the look over to me for a second before she blinked it away and cleared her throat.
“So, will you be able to recognize them well enough?”
“Yes, Lady Simira.”
“Good.” She clasped her hands and her face went back to its usual frustrated, tired state. “Fortunately, the Upper Hallax Quarter is an eyesore of gild. But that means you will be unrecognizable from your usual self if you are sufficiently made up. I have a golden dress that should fit you well enough, and with an excessive amount of makeup, you will look like a completely different person from the Tells of Amien Manor. Sit. Be still.”
She pushed me into the chair and pulled a tall wooden box of utensils out from a bookshelf. Brass canisters, wooden brushes, all tones of dyes, and a slew of other little makeup tools littered the oddly disorganized box.
She wiped my face with a number of different cloths. Layer after heavy layer of foundation and contouring was smattered all over me, along with what felt like way too much eyeshadow, blush, and even some glitter flakes beneath my eyes.
“Once you do this, we can begin the process of clearing all of you. I asked my father if I may hold the trial for that foul-mouth on the day he is away at a meeting and he surprisingly obliged. She will not be released from service, but as long as she admits some guilt, I’ll be able to ease her sentence enough that I could reasonably let her go with you when the time comes. The difficulty arises in making it believable to everyone else here, which is why we need her reactions to be genuine. We can tell her about this plan once the sentencing is over. She could be useful, and I believe she hates me enough to go along with it until she never has to see me again. Give me your hand.”
She finished with my face and began bronzing the backs of arms and hands.
“Your complexion is already very suitable to the Hallax Quarter, and you have good skin. So as long as everything works out, you and your friends will be fine. I don’t have any use for Adam at the moment, but he seems content in distracting Andris and Rezyn for me. Him and the other guards can stay focused on their escorts tonight while you slip out to complete your task.”
My brain came to a grinding halt for a moment. “My Lady, what do you mean by escorts?”
She looked at me puzzled. “Have you not seen those disgusting brothel visits? I suppose I did choose the one without connections, but do you truly seclude yourself so much? It’s a messy and chaotic night. But as much as I wish to keep people thinking straight and try to withdraw them from the events of the night, my efforts are fruitless. Alas, all the guards partake in the weekly pleasure festivities as a reward for victory in the arena or for exemplary guardsmanship. Servants can request them as well, but I’d advise against it. My one order is you must ignore that business and the one that runs it.”
Victory in the arena? Adam was a victor. Which meant he was going to participate in the activities of the night. Oh no. There’s no way he could go through with it. I could already see the outcome of people making snide remarks because he lost his virginity to a random prostitute. We used to laugh at people who would do that sort of thing. There’s no way I could let him go through with it, as much as I didn’t want to cockblock him. It just didn’t feel right to me for some reason, to let that happen.
“Um, Lady. I-if you would b-be so gracious, w-would it be possible to, like, to make Adam do something during that time so he doesn’t, um, participate?”
She tilted her head slightly and squinted at me before a realization dawned on her face. She gave a slight smile of admiration.
“Ah, I understand. I will arrange an urgent issue that only he can solve. Rather bold of you, I must say, quite unexpected.”
“Thank you Lady Simira. I understand it is bold to ask, but he will be grateful for it.”
“Apparently.”
She let out a breath like a quick chuckle and then packed the makeup away. I stepped into the gold glittery sleeveless dress that fell to my ankles. I staggered around on the short heels and sat so she could tie my hair into a pretty braided bun, dusting some glitter over it. She stepped back and looked me over, admiring her work.
“You are a bit thinner, and your legs are longer. Tch, well, you won’t have to worry about anyone realizing it’s mine. I’ve never worn a dress. Hah. Oh well, you look gilded enough, perhaps too formal, but it will pass where you are going.” She slid a gold colored cloak over my shoulders which draped all the way to my knees.
It was embarrassing to be so dressed up and covered in makeup. I didn’t feel comfortable at all, like people were going to be looking at me. I hadn’t ever worn a dress or makeup before. It was flat out uncomfortable. I couldn’t get over the gunky feeling on my face. Did women really wear this shit every day? It took everything I had not to pick at it.
She rolled an extravagantly golden full body mirror out of her room and blew some dust off of it. I looked… gorgeous. Like, really beautiful in a strange, trophy way. Everything looked good on me, for the most part. The dress was loose on my chest, something I was becoming increasingly self-aware and embarrassed of.
Simira raised her chin and contemplated something. “A little real gold would complete the image we’re creating for you. Your right ear, it’s not pierced, is it?” She stepped really close, staring at my ear. “That’s a shame. Earrings would suit you.”
I stared into my reflection, wondering if I really needed anything else. “Would a simple bracelet work?”
She looked at me like I was stupid, then chuckled with realization. “Foreigner. Right. These bracelets are military accolades. Same as my necklaces and earrings. Every citizen fulfilling their military duty receives a basic brass chain necklace with their name and home on it. It’s my crest. Bodies are often unrecognizable, so we know who has fallen by collecting them.” She pushed aside her own chain and crest, fumbling through a second chain out of four adorned by at least thirty other crests. “Necklaces represent how long one fulfilled their duty for. One brass chain for each year, then a gold chain at twelve. Left earrings indicate rank. Right earrings are personal flaunts and commitment studs. Bracelets are the individual commendations, awards for exemplary honor, service division, battles, and specializations.”
And here I was thinking her excessive jewelry was a fashion statement.
“The escorts will be arriving now. This coin purse has the message in it. You will meet somebody who has an identical purse with this same red gem on the clasp. You are to swap purses with them. Return here after walking around the park with the other person so it doesn’t look like such an obvious drop off. And most of Hallax’s guards are bought, so don’t do anything to stand out.”
“Yes, Lady Simira.” My anxiety rose with every word. Sure, at first it sounded simple, but I barely knew how to keep a conversation going. How could I do a package swap and then play it off like nothing happened? With a stranger, at that.
“Remember everything I have taught you about this city and high society and you will appear just as everyone else there does. Be sure to take the gildway across. Ask a guard outside the manor if you must.” She pushed her finger on my chest. “That is how you will succeed without any missteps.”
“Y-yes, my Lady.”
She rolled her eyes. “And avoid stuttering. Take longer to speak if need be, but always sound confident if you have to speak to guards or people who inquire about you. You are just going to the park for a stroll with your friend.”
“Lady, won’t the guards stop me on the way out? Since I am not allowed to leave?”
She looked at me sternly and sighed. “The guards won’t have the eyes to recognize you as you are now. And you’re too lavish to be mistaken as a common whore, so they won’t touch you. Go now. Time is limited.”
I hurried out of her study and crossed the manor, down to ground level, not really sure where I was walking because I was so self-conscious.
I wanna crawl into a corner and never be looked at again, but I have to do this. All I have to do is trade purses and walk around a park for a few minutes. Probably.
I followed the noise to probably a hundred people talking, glasses clinking, and boisterous laughter. I could have just followed the smell, which was like a cheap perfume stall at a wet market. The foyer of the manor was filled to the brim with people, idly gathered around the main stairwell. I passed through the archway. The men and women dressed in an array of flowery designs and colors didn’t even take notice of me. They were all focused on pitching their bodies to potential customers or counting the money of said prospects. I passed by guards in street clothes, mingling, trying to impress the higher value prostitutes, which I could only assume was the way they would win a partner for the night. They were already groping each other and shoving hands down pants as they exited the main hall. I squeezed my way through the crowd, trying to quickly exit before things got too kinky.
Yeah, definitely a good call having Adam pulled from all this. It’ll save him the burning.
I glanced up behind me as I heard voices from above. Adam, Captain Zev, and some guy who looked like a knock-off Christian Bale were in front with a few guards looking over the crowd. Zev was like a proud father, urgently telling Adam to choose along with Bale, who was biting his lip and looking over everyone before he honed in and slid down the railing, disappearing into the crowd.
Adam, on the other hand, was the most uncomfortable I’d ever seen him. His face was bright red and his eyes were darting over the crowd while he stammered like a dipshit. But he looked very distinguished. His short black hair had grown a little so that it was slicked back, and he was wearing an orange vest which had these beautiful blue feathers falling from tassels on the shoulders. It was just the manor attire with some added feathers, but he looked very gentlemanly. I smiled and let out a chuckle, trying not to be obvious. It was funny seeing him so happy but so self-conscious. That must have been how I looked. Seeing him comforted me enough to keep walking.
“You’re not one of ours, are you? There’s no way! I would recognize you!”
A woman who was old enough to be my mother swayed up to me, admiring my face and body. I wanted to recoil in on myself as she paraded around me in a spiky skin-tight golden dress that could have been mistaken for metal armor with how ornate the details were and how shiny it was. She had the makeup and hair to match, appearing as though she somehow survived being touched by King Midas. Even my excessive makeup seemed modest compared to her. There wasn’t a single natural tone about her, just metallic golds accented by bronze.
I half-glanced at her.
Is she about to crack my disguise before I even leave? I’m not disguised as a prostitute. I just have to leave.
“My dear, look at you! You could own a stage simply by standing upon it! How much are you being paid where you work now?! I promise you there is more money with me, double, maybe triple!” She was so loud and boisterous that I couldn’t think of a response. She was almost pushing me over with how assertive she was being.
“Excuse me, Madam Diona.” I felt an arm over my shoulder that pulled me upright. Captain Zev was putting himself between me and her. “Is this one of your girls?”
“Why, Captain Zev! My dear! How do you do?”
“Madam?” He lowered his head to her and gave her an eyebrow.
“No, but she could be a star if she wanted to be.” She peered at me with puppy dog eyes, like she wanted me to accept on the spot.
“Then, Madam, I would ask that you find other people to recruit. This one is already employed.”
Holy shit, what a godsend Captain Zev was. I would have to thank him at some point. I didn’t think he would even be able to recognize me, not to mention I hadn’t really spoken to him much before. He walked me out of the gaggle of people, up the stairs. Well, I could take a different, less crowded way out.
“Adam, the company you requested.” Zev yelled up to him and Adam nodded like he was automated.
Huh? Oh no. Oh fuck no. Ain’t no way Adam picked me outta the whole crowd.
Zev leaned down to speak into my ear as we passed through a yelling group. “Would you prefer to be paid before or after?” He waited for a moment while I was too shocked to respond. “I suppose we can wait until after. He won in the arena, so it will certainly be a fine payout for you regardless. And do visit the infirmary if the size is an issue.”
tHE SIZE?
My feet just moved along as Zev pushed me. All eyes fell on me as we walked up the stairs. So many people. My heart raced and my head wanted to pop like a balloon. I was being pulled along by my balloon string as Zev presented to Adam. I stared up at him, wide eyed and blank, but horrified. Adam was the exact same way.
Captain Zev passed my arm to be interlocked with Adam’s. I was only about a foot or two shorter than him, but he was a really big guy up so close, with how wide and muscular he was. I realized I was looking up at him like a scared idiot, and he looked down at me on his arm and tried his best to speak.
“Sh-sh-shall we? Uh, go?” He took a deep swallow and I noticed the beads of sweat rushing down his face.
Does he notice it’s me? Is he trying to talk to me? There’s no way he would be this nervous if he was just trying to talk. He would be like “C’mon pretty lady! Let’s go and have fun,” but in a way that would sound joking. He’s rigid, like a machine, helping me up the stairs all jittery. Oh good heavens, he doesn’t recognize me because he’s only seen me in this body when I’ve been a disheveled mess.
We waddled up the rest of the stairs and trudged down a hall I hadn’t been through before.
“So, um, you’re, one- one of the, um, ladies, who does, um, who sleeps with- with men. Must uh, be neat.” He was literally shaking with fear, drenching my arm in sweat.
Oh God, he really doesn’t recognize me. He thinks I’m a prostitute. And he’s attracted to me? Oh my God are we gonna- no no no! No we aren’t! I have to figure something out! Something to keep us from getting in a bedroom together.
A smell drifted into my nose, like a sweet, earthy, and a little musky scent. It was kind of nice-
Oh holy shit I’m smelling Adam. Whatever cologne he’s wearing, I don’t know, but I curse it because it smells surprisingly good. Fuck, I feel like I’m about to pass out. What the fuck is going on?
We robotically walked along, awkwardly pulling and being pulled when one of us stammered or hesitated. I didn’t even realize I didn’t respond to him.
“S-sorry, miss. I, uh, didn’t mean to make you, like, uncomfortable. If you don’t want to-to, uh, do it, then I get it. Like, not that you have to, but if you want to then, I guess, but if you aren’t sure- ow!”
I had naturally formed a death grip on his arm and he leaned down a bit almost tripping from my pull. Upon realizing, I let go and looked up frantically, patting his arm and trying to talk to apologize, but no words were coming out.
“Oh, uh, no, uh, it’s okay! Really! I’m strong, that didn’t, like, hurt at all. Just probably a wound from the arena, y’know, or something! Haha! There was a rizumir in the arena…”
I’ve seen this before. When Adam doesn’t know what else to say, he’ll hyperfixate on something he knows a lot about and race through his words so quickly that nobody understands him. He’ll completely fail to notice if people are interested or listening and just keep going. But doing it with a woman who he thinks he’s going to- to do things with? He’s gonna die alone.
“...I thought it was going to kill me because I couldn’t figure out how to comfortably swing the hammer and axe together because they were too light for my size so my swings were off. That’s what Captain Zev said, at least. I swung them around afterward and confirmed it, so we discussed what kind of weapon would suit me best. I wanted one with a weight that I could use for momentum on my swings, so a more blade heavy. And it’s a sword, not a hammer or axe. A really big sword, two handed sword that wouldn’t make much sense for a jorlad, but a jinian could wield more readily. I wanted it to be a zweihänder, but Captain Zev didn’t know what that was and apparently double-edged three handers aren’t used here, so I wouldn’t have any way to train under anyone who knew how to use it. Apparently the arsenal of weapons here is lacking, so Captain Zev is special ordering-”
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“Adam! Adam! You’re needed!” A woman’s voice called out from behind us. It was one of the maids from Simira’s wing. “The south gate’s chain is broken, and you’re the only one who might be able to lift it without the chain. We have an important delivery coming in, and with everything going on, we cannot muster enough men to raise the gate. Will you come?”
He looked down at me dumbly, then back up at the maid. “Yes! Yes I can! I will. The south gate? I’ll go right now!”
Adam hurried off down the hall where we had been heading before, toward the south gate, and the maid followed with a strange hobbling run.
I was left alone in the hallway like a deer in headlights, finally able to force air into my lungs. I had been holding my breath out of sheer embarrassment for longer than I knew. I fell back and leaned against the wall, regaining my composure.
“The park,” I whispered to myself, “Hallax.” I wiped my forehead, rubbing the slightly chalky makeup and recoiled my hand down. “Right. The layer of plaster on my face.”
I took a few more breaths, trying to forget that ever happened, and moved on down the hall. I slipped out one of the doors on the west side of the manor and out the west gate, where there were a bunch of those bird people, the one’s like Geren. They weren’t breaking in, they were just outside the open gates, doing some kind of strange song. I passed through the crowd with my head down, trying not to draw attention or cause a ruckus, and they let me through even though they were staring daggers at me the whole time. Immediately outside the manor was some farmland and a few upscale gated houses. I walked around the manor to the east side, where I could get to the main city, the Amien quarter. The road I walked along was parallel to a river, where massive factories and workshops had wheels running. The people of the quarter made me feel like I was an intruder simply for existing. Their gazes stuck to me, probably thinking I was some rich snob showcasing my wealth to the poor. I picked up my pace, glancing down every breakoff road for signs that might indicate I was somewhere near the Hallax Quarter or whatever the gildway was.
Eventually, as I came to a small marketplace with colorfully covered stalls, I noticed a handful of people in obnoxious gold and brass clothes walking through the square. Most of them were going to and from a particular road ahead and to the right. I was in a slightly more upscale area, so people weren’t sizing me up so blatantly. I hurried to an archway separating the zones, golden, Hallax guards standing at their posts.
If it was as she said, I would pass through without arousing suspicions because of my appearance. I had a quick pace going through the gate and just as I reached the other side of the guards, a deep voice spoke out to me.
“Ma’am, do you feel unsafe? Has somebody been following you?”
Were they on to me or did I just look scared? I shakily turned around and not-so-convincingly muttered “N-not anymore. Thank you.”
“Of course, please inform us if any of the dust-vermin attempts to tarnish you.”
I nodded, trying to smile, but really just widening my mouth strangely, and continued walking. There was a weight lifted from my chest at finally being somewhere I didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. I hated this more than I thought I would. I didn’t think I’d be separated from my friends for so long and be forced to interact with a bunch of the people of this world alone.
The Hallax Quarter was bright and abrasive to my eyes, but I looked around regardless, trying to find any kind of greenery that might indicate where the park was. Wait, the park, like the place we got arrested. I just had to find my bearings. There was a large golden palace, or castle. It was just really big and metal. Down the road from it was a mall, a reflection pool like the one by the Washington monument, but much longer and it had fountains spanning its length. There were groups of people, couples, solos, all walking alongside the pools enjoying the scenery. For how much of a steampunk nightmare this quarter may have looked, it had a strange beauty in the water and the greenery down by the end of the reflection pool.
Greenery? I strolled alongside the pool, gazing down at my own reflection, barely able to recognize myself. Props to Simira. The pool ended, and flowed into a still stream that passed through the park.
Shady trees draped their needles overhead like willows alongside the reflection pool. As the pool ended, the canopy became an array of green, yellow, orange and red tube trees, like they were stuck in perpetual autumn. I stepped on a number of fallen tubes, and they were springy with brittle skin. I walked through the park, passing patches of gorgeous flowers I had never seen before, tiny light blue and lavender bird things, and small ponds of floating blooms. I did like the green llama things, though. A couple walked right up to me like I was gonna feed them but tilted their heads at me when I tapped them on the noses and chuckled.
Eventually, a patch of ground like a simmering fire caught my eyes. These small, orange and glistening flowers swayed in the breeze like a glowing pool of magma. Seated in a bench across from the flowers, gazing into them, was a woman with long, silvery golden hair and a complexion like warm copper. She had ears like Brenden, and similarly slender features to her large head. She stood, a long golden skirt swaying around her ankles with a loose-fitting long-sleeved shirt tucked into it. She didn’t look like she was wearing nearly as much makeup as me, but she was strikingly beautiful in an alien way.
“It’s wonderful to see you again! How are you?” Her soft and airy voice drifted to me like a summer breeze. She had a similar purse, actually identical to mine, in her hands, which she pressed against mine as she grabbed my hands in an affectionate greeting. I felt her purse press into my grasp as she slipped the purse from my hands into hers, and hers into mine. The transaction was already done.
“It’s great to see you.” My tone didn’t sell it, but she responded with a wide smile as her large, upturned eyes invited me to share in her joy. They shone like radiant sunstones, reflecting the light of the evening sun, or- no they were actually glowing. I couldn’t help but feel calmed just by her presence.
“I was hoping to see the yonas that were planted here recently. Shall we walk?”
“Yes, of course.”
I strode next to her, slightly behind, hoping this would go as fast as possible. Even though this woman seemed nice, I was tired of talking to people already. I was tired of being around people in general. I didn’t even know what to say to her if I did want to talk.
Isn’t this supposed to be all hush-hush? Would telling her my name overstep that?
“Truly, these flowers are gorgeous. The whole park is. I wish I had time to visit more often.”
“Yeah. They… are nice. My friends like flowers like these.”
“How could anyone not?” She playfully laughed. “Maybe I could take him here for a few hours, before the flowers wilt. If I only had the time.”
“Why wouldn’t you have time?”
“I’m a regenerator. I heal people. It’s quite taxing on me, but the Lord makes sure I don’t overuse myself. I heard rumors that the Amiens recently got themselves a new regenerator, and a shazgadj at that, poor thing. Hopefully she’ll last longer than the previous one, what with the Lord’s health issues and all.”
“Lord Amien’s health issues?”
“He has been through four regenerators since last winter, and tried to buy me off of Lord Hallax a few months ago. If he falls ill again, he may just use another one up. Beating diseases is enough to kill the untrained regenerators he takes in, though I suppose they’re more of slaves there.”
“There aren’t any other ways to fix being sick?”
“There are plenty of sigils used for treating illness. They bolster the immune system and help target the illness, but they aren’t as quick or as sure as outright killing the disease. A lord as sickly as him might not recover even with immune support if it’s bad enough.”
“That’s… crazy.”
She looked down for a moment, thinking, before she turned her head up at me with a reassuring smile. “I suppose it is.” She raised her hand to a flowering tree, caressing the petals and smelling the sweet aroma that permeated the air around us. She paused, peering at the petals pensively, then sighed and began a slow, leisurely stroll.
“Can I ask you something? And can you tell me what you honestly think?”
“I can try… but I don’t know if I can help because, well, you know.”
“Well, I can try things his way this time. He said that asking strangers for advice is a sure way of finding out what you want, and I’m not sure I believe him fully. Well, anyway, I suppose I am conflicted. There’s a very kind man that has been taken into the house. We began having conversations quickly and talking for hours on end. He… has a lot of questions for me. And I enjoy speaking with him, but I think he wants to be in a formal relationship. Not that I would deny, but it feels too fast. It’s strange.”
“Um, how long have you two known each other?”
“I believe it has been a dozen and half days. We talk nearly every one. It’s nice, having another one of us around in a place so… rudimentary. It's… I feel as though everything is moving far too quickly, like I’m being swept up in the ever-speeding world of the jorlad, even though he’s not one.”
“Can you ask him to slow down?”
A few quick laughs broke through her grin. “I suppose that is one direction I can follow. But what if it causes an issue? Humans who adhere to jorlad days usually despise slowness. They dislike the pace at which nyadin live.”
“Is he mean? Does he get mad at stuff like that?”
“Mean? Not truly. At least not from what I can see. Grumpy? A little, but he’s always trying to make the people around him happy. He has a wonderful charm to him that feels genuine, like everything he does is from the bottom of his heart. It’s strange, he wasn’t raised with our people, but he reminds me of home sometimes. Does that make sense to you?” The corners of her mouth curled up awkwardly.
“It sounds like you’re just comfortable around him. People usually go on dates to get to know each other better by talking about their lives and secrets. I don’t do relationships, though, so… yeah.”
“I suppose we do have all the time we could ever want to play in the long grass,” she gazed into the reflection pool as we rounded back to the patch of simiras. “Thank you for humoring my rambling. Take care.”
“Uh, thanks.”
I turned around immediately, glad that I didn’t have to talk anymore. She wasn’t bad to talk to, but it was nerve-wracking thinking that if I let information slip, people around us may hear or Simira may get mad at me for leaking something she wanted private. Not that I knew anything she wouldn’t want leaked. I didn’t even know what I was delivering, what I was doing. She could’ve been throwing me under the bus, using me as a delivery boy right before turning me into the scapegoat.
Nah, prolly not.
I was walking back through the market, coming upon the workhouses of the city. Eyes bored into my flesh and burned into me. They seemed to be keeping to themselves for the most part, tending to their own families and business. The guard presence wasn’t very high as it got later in the evening, and there were more people out on the streets. These streets felt bleak and dark, even with all the plants and space. The way the people watched me, like I was a target.
A few kids, no more than ten years old, walked past me, gawking for a moment before they snickered and ran off to a side road. I didn’t hate kids, in fact I tended to be pretty good with them, but little shitheads like them got on my nerves.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” A middle aged woman with a weathered, wrinkled face and shoddy clothes hobbled over with her cane. I looked at her, clutching the purse in my hands tightly. “Can you spare a few sennos, perhaps a gossy? I’ve hurt my knee, and I need to support my family, so I need to have it fixed. Please.”
I was inclined to help her, but doubts infiltrated my mind as poverty did my pockets. People back on Earth would pull stuff like this sometimes, and even then I didn’t have money to give, not to mention now.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” I picked up my step and started moving off.
A pale and stocky man yelled from the side of the road, calling out to me. “Go back to the gold castle ya fuckin statue.”
This motherfucker. Nah, I’m just gonna ignore it and walk.
He got up, following behind me. “What? Couldn’t find the gildway? Too good for a bunch of dusty commoners?”
“I don’t have any money to give you. I’m sorry.”
I tried walking away, but he kept pace.
“I don’t want your fuckin’ money, I want your golden taint outta my neighborhood.”
My temper was starting to grow. A little scared, a little angry, but trying to breathe. “Great, cause I ain’t stayin.”
He caught up, walking along next to me. “Then where ya goin?! Cause the Hallax quarter is that direction!”
I didn’t really know what he meant, but I didn’t want to stick around any longer. He was getting mad and my bad mood would only get worse. I tried speeding up past him, but he kept pace.
“Wait just a second now! You gotta pay the Amien toll!” He reached out, trying to grab the purse from my hands, wrestling with my iron grip on them. “Let go of the purse, bitch!” He reached out a hand, scratching at my cheek, pulling three deep lines of makeup off my face.
What I wouldn’t give to have a sword on me. Most everyone else has one, just not in the Hallax Quarter. I just wanna threaten this guy away, but I can’t even do that.
I was probably ten shades redder beneath the makeup, trying to keep myself from lashing out at this asshole. Like a plugged firehose, stifled and ready to burst out. As I raised my hand to feel the side of my face he scratched, his hands launched out and snatched the purse from me. A strange tingle took over my right arm and I couldn’t stop myself from lashing out. I threw a left hook into his cheek and slammed my other hand on his wrist as he recoiled backward.
I reached my right hand out, grabbing his arm that was holding the purse. At least, that’s what I thought I was doing. In reality, my forearm was a mess of jagged bone. The purse was in a pool of blood on the ground, and his hand dangled by only a few sinews of muscle and skin. I threw my sword arm to the side, away from me. When I saw that it wouldn’t go away, I flailed my arm around, cutting into my own leg a little and tearing the dress with the bloody bone blade.
The man held his dangling hand and screamed madly. Gasps spread among the onlookers, who took to dispersing.
My boiling blood stilled like ice when the reality settled in. Like that, my hand returned to normal, but the man was clutching his hand on the ground, wailing in pain. People were rushing over to him, and all I could think to do was take the purse and run. I saw two glints of brass armor down the road to the manor and ran toward them pointing back at the people.
“Ma’am, what happened? You’re hurt.”
“Help! Back there!”
“By hand’s order! Ma’am, keep running until you find more of us. We’ll take care of those people.” They took off toward the group of people, drawing jzonutos.
I continued running, not looking back at the curses and screams behind me.
Twilight had fallen by the time I made it back to the manor. Sneaking in the west gate, unseen, I slinked in the same door as before. Walking past rooms around the manor, it was oddly quiet for how many people were supposed to be here. It didn’t matter to me though. Through the halls I went, avoiding any contact with everyone I could.
I knocked on Lady Simira’s door. She quickly checked and pulled me in.
Simira’s surprised and stern tone startled me. “Give me the purse! And why the fuck are you bleeding?! All you were to do was walk there and back! How could you have possibly been hurt?!”
She snatched the bloody purse and sat down, aggressively flipped it open and checked inside, only to clasp it shut and tuck the clean papers from it into her desk.
“What happened to you? Why does it look like you were in a fight?! Answer me!”
Simira stood up and stormed around her desk toward me, trying to stand above me, just to meet me at eye level.
“My Lady, on my return, a man by the workhouses tried to attack me because I looked wealthy, but I fought him off. The guards came and I snuck away.” It wasn’t my fault, I just didn’t know how to tell her that.
“What do you mean, ‘by the workhouses’? Did you not take the gildway?”
“I took the road that follows the river. I couldn’t find the gildway”
“What, do I have to explain everything to you like a child?! Are you incapable of discerning things for yourself?! Did you not ask a guard for directions to the gildway?! How incompetent can one be?!”
“I’m sorry, Lady Simira.”
“Sorry? You’ve potentially compromised the entire plan! Did anyone follow you?! Did anyone see you come back here dressed like that?!”
“No, Lady Simira, I promise you nobody followed me. I snuck through the entire manor to get here.” I was practically begging her to believe me, to not fly into a rage at me.
“Look at yourself! You’re a bloody mess because you couldn’t complete a simple task correctly! You’ve ripped the dress and creased the heels! The makeup I spent so long on is running! It’s clawed through! How the fuck did that happen?! Are you afraid of telling off some dusty street urchins?! Have I not taught you that you are better than them?!”
My voice shook and my throat felt like it was closing in. “I didn’t want to start a fight in the middle of the street.” Her wrath seeped through my skin, infecting me, making me hate myself for letting it go so far. I hated her, but I hated more that I was a failure to her. I didn’t know what to direct my hate at, I could barely keep it bottled up.
Simira’s hand grabbed the side of my neck and forced me to meet her blazing eyes. Her yelling turned into a seething whisper. “So you let them claw and cut you while you stood and did nothing?! What is there to be afraid of?!”
“I will do better.”
Her face pulsed red with each breath like a ticking cartoon bomb. Her jagged eyebrows relaxed a little. She growled a sigh out and released her grip. “Take off the fucking dress before it’s further drenched in blood. It will be cleaned, sewn, and on my desk by tomorrow evening.” She slammed a wad of clothes into my stomach, briefly knocking the air from my lungs.
I quickly changed out of the dress and heels and put on the sleeveless orange servant outfit. Simira stopped next to a display case beneath the portrait of her family that she showed me the flower in. She was looking down at a leatherbound journal.
She was still frustrated, but putting it aside for a moment. “Tells, were you close with your mother?”
“Um, yes, Lady Simira.”
“If something terrible happened to her, would you do everything in your power to make it right?”
“Probably.”
Where is she coming from with this? I recall her mother having been killed in an accident a long time ago. Is she still grieving?
She scoffed. “Probably. Hah. Why did I bother asking somebody without a spine unless you’re raging?”
Every word she said and every little insult she threw was like a punch to the gut, like throwing kindling on a fire. She could say whatever she wanted because I couldn’t do anything about it. Speaking even remotely passive aggressively would earn me some kind of ridiculous punishment. No wonder she was so angry when it was just her and Tarynn on the road with us. She had no power because we didn’t care and we outnumbered her. And now she had us running around like her trained little puppies.
She walked up to me with a rag and sprayed something into it. “Hold still while I wipe that nasty look off your face.” She dragged the coarse cloth down my face, scraping the makeup off my skin until it was irritated and red. “That’s most of it off. The gilded can have their heads so far in the forge that they fail to see the natural beauty of the blessed. Go now. It’s late and I have work to do. And so do you.” She pointed at the dress and scowled. She returned to her desk, eyeing me as I exited the room.
I washed the dress clean of blood and sweat, then I washed myself clean of blood, sweat, and makeup. I was pissed off the whole time, thinking both about what an idiot I was and what a bitch Simira was.
I just want her to not be disappointed in me and yet every time she speaks I see her cutting Vetia’s tongue out. I can’t figure out what the hell was going on and I just want it to stop. I just wanna break something. I wanna get the fuck out of here.
I breathed the mist into my lungs and let the warmth of the baths wash over me, bowing my head, fighting back tears as I prayed for answers, guidance, forgiveness.
“I hurt a man today. Much more than he deserved. He was a man hurt and pleading, who sinned and stole. I could not control my rage or my body and I harmed him more than I should have. I will keep persevering and I will control myself better. But I have been forced to follow a wrathful woman who I am afraid will turn that wrath to me.”
I pumped more hot water over me, rinsing away the soap and burning my skin ever so slightly. Then, I went to the baths. For communal baths, they were huge and there was plenty of soap. All the servants and guards used them. Even then, it felt weird that we would even be afforded a luxury like soap here. The hot water was nice and plenty, especially since it could be heated by basic sigils. A luxury back home was a commonality for even the lowest people here. The steam rose around me, and I got back to thinking about home.
Why did Simira ask about my mother? Or her own at that? And why me? Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her have a genuine conversation with anyone at the manor.
I left the bath before all the servants and guards engaging in the nightly activities would arrive, cleaned and sewed the dress, then read a little before turning in for the night.
A bachelor’s banquet most delightful I’d partook in this eve, assortments of lavish fruits and meat from afar. A rarity, even among my class. Wine from orchards bearing the most succulent fruit procured and tasted with the utmost care for palette. Not in a stupor, I, but in warmth most pleasant on such a chilling night to stroll through the docks, tasting the ocean air on my tongue, when upon the moment I spotted the filthy Larmeonip, seated upon a waste smattered post at the end of the docks, as though he’d witnessed those winged sea kets and thought himself one. Truly a detestable sight, alas, my faith in the Skin be unswayed, I approached the creature.
“Man! If you be man and not beast, prove it and I shall a golden coin bestow upon thee. Beastly Larmeonip, for why dost thou sit atop the refuse of fajirs.”
“Many thanks be upon ye for such a chance, Unwise Djoteided! But I must speak short, as the chilling air hast stole away my breath.”
“Ay, shouldst thou respond to my query, thy length matters not.”
“A gift the night presently gives! For why do you stalk the docks?”
“My query presently rests, Unlistening Larmeonip!”
“A vagrant, I must be, but a beast I am not. I was upon the forum, but now I am upon the post.”
“For why art thou upon the post, Deflective Larmeonip?!
“A question I’ll answer in a question, if I may, Interrogative Djoteided?”
“Ay, with haste, Meandering Larmeonip!”
“What bringst thee to the docks, Wandering Djoteided?”
“Is a man not entitled to stroll upon that which is made to be strolled upon?”
“Is a man not entitled to sit upon that which is made to be sat upon?”
“Festering Larmeonip, beasts sit upon poo-stewed posts! Man sits upon benches such as thus, and thus, and thus! Three upon the docks, outlooking the water! Is man truly man if he livest in squalor and chill?!”
“Curious Djoteided, is a man out of comfort a man who cannot live? I reckon beasts be only those who are as unfeeling as cobblestones beneath beggars.”
“Inquisitive Larmeonip, I have met many a man who feel and yet act as beasts, lying alone upon cold ground in every walkers way, and not a day later sleeping in pens of livestock where the farns keep him warm! How canst thou prove thou art a man if even man sleeps not among men?!”
“Cynical Djo, thy answer lies in thy question, but pose I a question for thee?”
“Ask, Larmeonip!”
“How do we live?”
“Within home and family, with bed and hearth of course.”
“Beasts build dens and homes, staving off the cold of night, no?”
“Correct.”
“Thus the loved warm to their family, staving off the cold of lonesomeness, no?”
“Correct again.”
“Bed is the place upon which dreams are born, having hope to desire, no?”
“Correct again, Larmeonip.”
“Thus hearth is the place in which love is found, having no more to dream for, no?”
“Correct again, Larmeonip, and?”
“Therein lies the answer, Djoteided.”
“Circular Larmeonip, tis thine answer to thy question!”
“What chills spur dreams between home and family, bed and hearth, is that of Larmeonip. I cannot answer for Djoteided, for is thy warmth not of wine, and thy hope not of coin? We are too unlike.”
“Deceitful Larmeonip, the homeless chill hath stole thy breath!”
“And yet I am warm.”
“Lonesome Larmeonip, thou’rt with none!”
“And yet I have kinship.”
“Unkempt Larmeonip, thou sleep'st not in a bed!”
“And yet I have dreams.”
“Strange Larmeonip, thou hast no fire!”
“And yet I am loved more than the stuped unwiseman.”
In a flight of rage, I dropped a gold coin politely in that dreadful man’s hand and cursed the wine which curdled my veil of wisdom.
* * * * *
In the darkness, I see my family. My mom, my dad, my brothers, and my sisters. They are walking alongside each other, down an asphalt road illuminated by flickering streetlights. I don’t see any details. They’re like shadows of humans, no defining features, and yet I know they are my family. They are slowly walking down the road toward me, laughing in voices I can’t hear or remember.
I am going to call out to them as they pass me, but I can’t remember their names. I know their names. I know their names. I just can’t remember them on this road.
They walk past, a crowd of unrecognizable laughs, not even noticing me. I can’t turn around to see them. The road ahead of me is dirt, and nothing but darkness beyond that.
* * * * *
I shot up as the sun beat into my eyes, and I caught a glimpse of the woman in the tiny mirror across the tiny room from me.
They wouldn’t even recognize me anyway.