Eyes of stone

The line moved forward slowly, with the sound of wheels creaking and hooves striking stones that were embedded in the dirt. The gates of the huge city loomed higher with every step, their hinges and heavy defences resembling the maw of a beast waiting to swallow them whole. Rens's grip tightened on the papers that Darius had given him. They weren’t perfect – the seals looked cheap, the wax shiny and worn compared to the polished stamps he’d seen the guards stamp earlier. He ran his fingers over the ridges of the wax again and again, forcing his face into a neutral state to hide the fear and anxiety in his heart.

Alice clutched at the edge of the fabric of her new outfit, eyes darting from the soldiers lining the walls to the line of merchants and peasants in front of them. She whispered so low it was nearly drowned out by the murmurs of the crowd. “What if they notice? What if the papers don’t work?” “They’ll work,” Ren muttered, trying to hide his own doubts and fears. Hibiki leaned forward, craning his neck to watch a cart being inspected further down the line. “C’mon, this is fine! Look – they barely even check. That guard just yawned. He couldn’t be more bored if he tried.”

“Stop staring,” hissed Miyako, smacking his back lightly. “You’ll make it obvious; we all just need to calm down. Remember, we’re supposed to be blending in.” “I wasnt –” Hibiki started, then sighed and shoved his hands in the rough pockets of the pants they had been given. The shirt was itchy and a dull brown; it smelt like dust and smoke. “Still feels like we could’ve had some nicer clothes; it’s like I’m wearing skin.” No one commented on the obvious complaining coming out of Hibiki's mouth once again.

The line moved once more. They were getting closer and closer to the intimidating walls. Close enough to hear the clatter of weapons as the guards leaned against the spears and brushed against the walls with their sheaths. Low mutters were audible even from this distance. The guard that was dressed in more adornments than the others was the captain. He had a heavy-looking ledger, his hand stained with what looked like charcoal or ink, with black smudges on his palm. He nodded at each group, taking a glance at the seals and ushering them through. It was finally their turn, and Ren stepped forward first, blocking the view from the others slightly. His hands felt clammy as he held out the folded sheet. The guard with the ledger barely looked up from the pages and yawned loudly. His companion, however, a younger-looking guard with piercing eyes, leaned in, scanning the four of them up and down after looking at their papers. “Farmhands?” he asked, his voice steady and demanding.

“Y-yeah,” Ren said quickly, forcing the anxiety back down into his stomach. “We’ve been doing odd jobs and helping out –” The guard cut him off with a grunt. “Look more like strays to me.” His gaze lingered on the nervous Alice. After what felt like a lifetime with the four's panic being bottled, the older guard chimed in. “Strays, farmhands, even orphans don’t care as long as papers match. “C’mon, haven’t got all day; go on through.” His unbothered attitude was switching to annoyance, and the group quickly sauntered through the gate, the young guard not taking his gaze off of them. They stepped quickly under the portcullis, boots ringing against the cobbles. For a moment, all of them held their breath.

The air inside the walls was different. Thick, humid, pressing down with the smell of too many people packed too close. The sound hit them next—a thousand voices weaving together, merchants barking over one another, metal clanging, and the shuffle of boots and hooves bounced off all the buildings. Rens insides tightened as he took in the sheer size of the city. Alice tugged at his sleeve. “It’s bigger than I imagined,” she whispered, her eyes full of fear and wonder in equal measures. “Don’t look so impressed,” Miyako muttered, adjusting her hood lower. “We’re not tourists. Keep your head down.” Ren started to move forward, signalling the others to follow behind him. Atop the buildings, laundry fluttered in the wind, strewn across ropes attached to wooden posts, oil lamps not yet alight on the end of the washing lines. Hibiki wrinkled his nose as they passed a butcher’s stall, slabs of meat glistening with fat. “Smells like something died twice,” he muttered. Miyako hissed once more at him, clearly frustrated at his antics. “Shut it.” They weaved deeper into the streets, careful not to break from the tide of peasants and merchants. Every so often, patrols of guards marched past, their armour catching the sunlight. Alice’s hand twitched every time, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of her clothing. Ren looked behind him and swallowed heavily as he noticed the guard from before in the distance, alone and following behind them, eyes locked on the group. He said nothing but picked up his pace. “Ren?” Alice whispered, noticing the panic in his eyes. “Later,” he muttered under his breath.

They turned down a narrower street, one lined with crooked doorways and shuttered windows. Here, the noise dulled, replaced by the trickle of a gutter and the creak of signs swaying in the evening breeze. The press of the crowd thinned, leaving them space to breathe. “Where are we even going?” Hibiki finally asked, his voice low. Ren slowed, glancing back once to be sure they weren’t followed. “Somewhere quiet. Darius said there’d be people who could help us inside, but we can’t ask questions in the open. We find a place to stay first.” They walked in silence for a time. A rat darted past, vanishing into a hole beneath a door. Alice jumped at the sight. They felt the weight of the city pressing in—the walls weren’t just stone and iron; it felt like they were eyes, eyes that judged every action with scrutiny.

The relief of getting through the gate had been replaced with something sharper and deeper. After making a turn, they spotted a damaged wooden sign hanging from a metal rod thick with rust; the painted image on the wood was faded but looked like a bed with a creature perched on the end. It was an inn. A faint glow spilt from the windows, voices muffled inside. Ren hesitated. “Here,” he said. “We’ll stay here tonight.” Hibiki grunted. “Looks like it’ll collapse if we go through the door too fast.” Miyako rolled her eyes. “C’mon, let’s go.

They stepped inside, the smell of sour ale and smoke hitting them at once. The common room was dim, filled with the low murmur of locals hunched over mugs. A man with wrinkled features looked up briefly, then went back to his drink. Ren approached the counter, placing a few coins on the wood. His voice was low and steady. “Room for four.” The innkeeper, a broad-shouldered woman with tired eyes, glanced at them. For a long moment, Ren thought she might refuse. “Is 1 silver talon a night for all of ye?” She put out her hand as Ren opened the small pouch he had got from Darius; after plucking out several coins, he placed them in her calloused hand. She grunted and pocketed them, then threw a worn key onto the surface in front of them. “Second floor. End of the hall.” They looked nervously at each other, and then they climbed the stairs, the boards creaking beneath their weight. They entered through a small door. The room was small, the air stale, but it was theirs for now.

“We did it,” Alice spoke, almost to herself. “We’re inside.” Ren leaned against the wall, folding his arms. His chest still felt tight. “We’re inside,” he repeated. “But we’re not safe.” No one argued. The city was vast, and they were nothing more than strangers hiding behind false names and cheap papers. Outside, the muffled laughter of the tavern carried through the walls. It was busy even in the morning; they couldn't picture how it would be in the evening. Hibiki shuffled on the crooked stool he had found next to a bed, stretching his legs out with a groan. “Could’ve at least gotten us a bigger room. I feel like I’m in a coffin.” This time it was Ren that shot him an icy stare “Be grateful we’re not in one instead.” Hibiki smirked but didn’t answer. The smirk faded quickly enough when the floorboard creaked outside their door. All four froze, breaths caught, until the sound passed down the hall.

Ren finally pushed away from the wall, crossing the room to the single, grime-coated window. He tugged back the curtain just enough to peer out into the street below. The crowd had thinned but not vanished. The inn was on a corner of a smaller street that they had come down, but it looked onto a busier street where merchants were still stocking their stalls, and the rush of people trying to get the best deals by arriving early had died down. After looking around at that street, Ren saw him; leaning against a post at the far end of the street was the younger guard. His posture was casual, his helmet tilted back slightly, but his eyes—Ren swore they were aimed straight at the inn. He let the curtain fall. His mouth went dry. “He’s out there.” Miyako’s head snapped up. “Wait, who, that guard?” Ren nodded. “Watching. Frozen in place.” “Could just be coincidence,” Hibiki said, though his voice lacked its usual excitement. “Big city, guards everywhere.” “Coincidence doesn’t stare daggers at you and follow you to cheap inns,” Ren muttered.

The room fell into another long silence, broken only by the creak of the bed as Alice sat down and buried her face in her hands. Her voice came muffled. “How long can we keep this up? Pretending to be someone we’re not?” “As long as we have to,” Miyako said firmly, though her eyes flicked to Ren, searching him for answers. He didn’t have any; all he had were questions of his own.

Below them, laughter from the tavern swelled, followed by the crash of a mug breaking. Alice raised her head at last. Her cheeks were pale, her eyes red from holding back tears. “We can’t just sit here,” she whispered. “If he’s waiting for us, if anyone else is… Hiding won’t help.” Hibiki leaned back on the stool, his grin forced. “What do you suggest, princess? March up to him and ask politely if he’s stalking us.” “No.” Alice’s voice hardened unexpectedly as if she was getting sick. “Maybe we should try and blend in and act normal. Get food, find supplies. Maybe it’s a misunderstanding.” Ren rubbed the bridge of his nose, torn. It made sense — but the thought of stepping back into those streets with the guard’s eyes on them made his stomach twist. Miyako stood, straightening her clothes. “She’s right. We need to move; it’d be strange to hole up in an inn all day. The market will be crowded — we still have money, and we need information.”

Ren met her gaze, then Alice’s, then Hibiki’s. He exhaled slowly, forcing the tightness in his chest down. “Fine. But no wandering. We stick together. Understand?” They all nodded, even Hibiki, though his smirk flickered back into place as if to hide his nerves. They all stood up and dusted themselves off. Hibiki strutted to the door. “C’mon guys, let’s go.” They followed behind, sighing heavily.