The previous night’s view of Halcyon, from miles out at night, observed largely via a series of street lights and brazier fires silhouetting the city, does not do the grandiosity of the capital justice.
It is now mid-morning, Valafyr 16th. A gentle rain falls from a clouded sky above.
The group’s carriage rolls over a sturdy wooden bridge that crosses one of the several small rivers that spread throughout the valley. On either side, large farms are tended to by workers, who are busy tending to the freshly-plowed fields and planting the last batches of seeds that will eventually become the spring crop. Simple houses made mostly of stone, with thatch roofs to keep out the damp Loxian weather, dot the numerous farms, along with similarly-constructed barns.
Just ahead is the first wall of Halcyon, one of several that encircle the hill that the city sits upon. The lowest wall is mostly palisade, but the ones closest to the castle are stone. Each ring acts as both protection and social organization, with each tier beyond the first more wealthy, and as such more protected.
The buildings of the first ring or two are similar to the simple farmhouses and cottages that dot the valley, but the architecture and construction of each building becomes more elaborate, more sturdy, the higher up the hill they are.
From what Kaz can tell, there are four sequential walls, and as such four interior rings/sections of the city. Each section of the city is, in itself, at least twice the size of Tarn’s Rest.
Noting everyone’s awed interest as they stare at the city, Addy sees it as an opportune time to give a bit of background. She clears her throat, earning a couple groans of understanding as she begins, “Halcyon was founded approximately 8,043 years ago and was officially recognized as the capital of the nation of Kattelox about fifteen years later–”
“Addy, perhaps this can wait–” Kaz tries to interject, unsuccessfully.
“–the first ring is largely residential, where the lower class and their families reside–”
Dahlia watches Addy with wide eyes. “Look at her go,” she says.
“–the second ring is the mercantile district, where the middle class resides–”
“Sounds like some typical capital city caste system shit-fuckery,” Cashew sneers.
“–the third ring is for the noble class and the University–”
“Think we could talk our way into a nice manor house, with what we’ve done?” Wren ponders aloud.
“–and the fourth ring is Castle Thorburn itself, which has existed since–”
Demy snores loudly, sprawled out in the very back of the cart–exhausted from his transformation the previous night.
“–Oh, Professor, do you think we can visit the University! I’m sure my students would be fascinated to hear about–”
Felix cuts her off with a look so sharp that she almost flinches. “I’m sorry, Professor Rhys, but you are not to discuss anything that has happened while we are within the city unless it is in the confines of the castle. Even then, you are not to discuss it with anyone that isn’t the seven of us or my brothers,” he explains tersely.
“Aww, okay,” Addy pouts.
Kaz gives Addy a reassuring pat and says, “Don’t worry. If there is time, maybe you can show some of us around.”
Addy perks back up and says, “Oh, yeah! I could show you off to my students!”
“We’re not trophies,” Dahlia says.
“Speak for yourself,” Cashew says, striking a pose. He and Wren snicker and high five, though Dahlia just stares at them oddly.
The cart reaches the very first gate, stopping only for a brief moment for the guards to recognize the royal insignia on the cart and give a cursory once-over to make sure nothing is amiss. As it moves through the first “ring” of Halcyon, full of simple homes, people going about their daily chores, and children playing through the streets, Demy can’t help but shrink back, away from the curious eyes of the townsfolk.
“What’s wrong, Demy?” Wren asks, scooting over to their frowning companion.
He watches the countless people, the countless families, going about their day and mutters, “I get anxious around this many people, still. Something might upset me and, well…” he trails off, watching the children playing happily. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“Sweetie, we aren’t going to let that happen,” Wren tries to reassure him. Though it doesn’t seem to work too well.
“But what if I can’t control–” Demy starts, but Wren holds their finger up, shushing him.
“I said we won’t let that happen. If you have a puppy tantrum, we’ll keep you from hurting anyone,” Wren says, smirking.
Demy blinks a little, brow furrowing as he asks, “Do you think you could stop me?”
Cashew flops down on Demy’s other side, elbowing him a bit as he does so. “We’ll knock your ass out, don’t worry fam,” he says, grinning.
“Pff, you’ll end up getting eaten if you try,” Demy jokingly counters, pushing Cashew’s shoulder a little. He does this with a smile, though, feeling better at the notion of his friends making sure nothing happens even if things get that bad.
“Gay,” Cashew says, shoving Demy back.
The cart reaches the second gate, opening into another ring of buildings, another web of streets circling around the hill that Halcyon rests upon. The roads in this section are more defined, each one made up of cobblestones, unlike the previous section that had simple dirt roads apart from the main path. The buildings have actual wooden roofs instead of mere thatch, making them more secure–both structurally and from unwanted persons.
Dahlia frowns, noticing just how different this ring is from the first. “Friend Addy, why is everything in this section constructed out of better materials than the one before?” she asks.
“Well, this is the mercantile district!” Addy explains. “There are all kinds of shops, with the ones near the front priced for the common folk, and the shops near the back priced for the nobles. There are also banks, various artisan guilds, adventurer’s guilds–”
Kaz cuts her off by telling Dahlia, “What Addy means is that this section makes more money than the laborers and farmers below.”
Dahlia stares. “What does that matter?” she asks.
“Well, they make more money so they can afford better materials. So it’s more secure,” Addy says.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“So the poor do not deserve safety?” Dahlia asks bluntly.
Addy and Kaz exchange uneasy glances.
“Well, no, they absolutely do,” Addy explains. “The kingdom does provide the wall and the city guards to help them, even if they can’t afford as much.”
“I do not understand why the laborers make less, when without them, the city would starve,” Dahlia says, staring expressionlessly out at the multitude of shops that the cart passes by.
“Every person matters in a functioning society,” Kaz explains.
“If every person matters, then everyone should benefit the same,” Dahlia says.
Felix chuckles from a few feet away, overhearing the discussion. “If everyone earned the same, what would be the incentive to work at all, little Goblin?” he asks.
“In nature, every member of a system works, or the system collapses. Contributing to the system is the reward, if everyone benefits,” Dahlia says flatly.
Kaz sighs, wearily pleading with the others, “Let’s not get into a fight over economic policies, please.”
What is an “economic policy?” Dahlia wonders quietly.
“If this bothers her, just wait until we get to the upper district,” Felix muses with a smug smirk as the wagon continues on through the city streets.
~~~~~~~~~~
“So,” the fifth voice says. “Who is going to speak with him?”
“I will,” says the ninth voice, punctuated by a chuckle and the rattling of chains.
“No,” echoes the other eight voices in unison.
The first voice sighs. “We agreed on merely deflecting, not interfering past this point,” it says.
“Exactly, they should be free to make their own mistakes,” the sixth voice says.
The third voice hums in thought before saying, “Without guidance, they will surely fail.”
The second voice argues, “They have already been given ‘guidance,’ however. That changes our agreement.”
“I am in favor of keeping things equal,” the fourth voice says.
“We should decide soon,” the eight voice says. “Before they reach the ARC.”
“I suppose I could go,” says the seventh voice, feigning indifference.
The others silently agree.
The tenth voice watches.
~~~~~~~~~~
The third gate opens, revealing buildings and streets that make the immaculate, perfectly reasonable accommodations of the second layer seem paltry in comparison. The houses here are enormous, closer to the size of Tarn’s manor than the simple homes in the first layer or the farming outskirts. The streets are lined with ornate lanterns, which were the primary source of illumination seen from the forest the previous night, and the occasional building that isn’t a residence is some kind of high-end shop or, by Addy’s explanation, some kind of nobility-funded institution.
Dahlia agrees on finding this ring of Halcyon even more frustrating.
“There are more guards than people here,” she points out. “Why are the houses so large?”
“Because nobles like to show off how much money they have to each other,” Cashew grumbles, rolling his eyes at the prospect.
“It’s like a display of dominance, in nature!” Addy elaborates.
Dahlia frowns, watching the well-dressed people mill about with no sense of urgency whatsoever. “Why are they not working? Should they not work the hardest, to have this much money?” she asks.
Wren rubs the back of their neck awkwardly, explaining, “Well, see, they made enough money that they can afford to pay a bunch of other people to work for them.”
“Then how do they not run out of money?” Dahlia asks.
“They, uh, keep most of the money that their workers earn,” Wren says, frowning at how it sounds to say out loud.
Dahlia looks over at Felix and states, “Your society is infested with parasites, Lord Felix. It needs to be purged.”
Felix stares at the little Goblin for a moment, then scans the opulent homes and well-fed nobles plodding along the streets, oblivious to the strife in the world.
“You know, Miss Dahlia, I might concede that point to you,” he mutters, turning away to emphasize that he is through with the conversation.
“Hey, Addy,” Demy wonders aloud. “Do you have a house? You live here, right?”
“Nope, I live there!” Addy says, pointing to a group of towering buildings a few streets over. Combined, they are several times larger than the manor houses, complete with their own little park area, including an ornate courtyard with numerous statues and a fountain. The sight reminds Kaz and Demy of the courtyard back at Tarn’s manor, though it is many times larger and wraps around the entire campus.
Dahlia gives Addy a confused and slightly judgmental look, which prompts her to explain further, “I have a dorm in the south-eastern tower!” She points toward one of the large, spiraling towers attached to the corners of the campus buildings.
One window of said tower has a strange, segmented panel hanging beneath it and several odd antennas on the windowsill, some attached to concave “bowls” and a couple even spinning about slowly.
“I wonder which room is yours,” Kaz says, sarcastically.
Addy, immune to subtle social cues such as sarcasm, eagerly answers by pointing at said window with the gadgets around it and exclaiming, “That one!”
“Is your whole room like that?” Wren asks, uncertain if they are impressed or concerned.
“‘Room?’” Felix repeats with a wry chuckle. “All of the dorms are made up of a common room and at least four adjoining rooms that normally fit two students, each. Professor Rhys has an entire suite dedicated to her collection that she also lives within.”
“I can’t wait to show you all!” Addy says cheerfully. “Kaz said I could!”
Kaz blanches as the others turn to her with stern looks.
“Well, at some point, perhaps–ah, Lord Thorburn! I would think that the King wants to speak with us in short order…” Kaz prompts Felix, staring intensely at him to play along, even if untrue.
Felix, who would like nothing more than to have someone else subjected to the same ‘tour’ that he has far too many times been burdened with, knows that Frederik and Flint will want to speak as soon as possible.
I also want to get this over with, for better or worse, he thinks sourly.
“I’m sorry Professor Rhys, but you will have to give them a tour afterward, if there is time. I’m sure my brothers will be eager to speak to us,” Felix says, earning a sigh from everyone, save for Addy, who pouts a little.
The cart reaches the final gate, which is large and sturdy, built into a tall, solid stone, circular wall. It slowly opens into a courtyard full of guards and staff, who tersely wait for the cart to stop before moving to help the group down and gather their belongings.
“Hey, that’s my stuff–” Wren starts to argue, but Felix interjects.
“You already have accommodations set up in the guest quarters of the castle. Follow the staff to your appointed room and–please–stay put until you are called for an audience with the King,” he explains, specifically glaring at Cashew when emphasizing the importance of staying put for the time being.
Cashew throws up his hands and cites racism as the castle staff lead the six off to their rooms.
Felix sighs and motions for a couple of staff to grab his belongings and bring them along as he sets off for his own quarters, eager for a bit of peace and quiet–and solitude–before his brothers begin badgering him.
Unbeknownst to him, and to the castle staff, a guest is waiting for him within his room who has information that will impact everything to come.