Chapter 15 - She who sold hope

The girl introduced her name as Penny even though Cestela did not ask for it.

“Hope! Peace of mind. Virtue! I sell them all at once for the low, low price of a couple coppers.” Penny’s energetic movements contradicted her grimy collar and grease-stained coat. She pouted at Cestela’s indifference.

“…What?”

“I’m showing you the secret to the world and you’re just munching on a sandwich.”

Cestela swallowed. “So are you.”

Yes. The two of them somehow found themselves having dinner by the riverbank slowly watching the sun set behind the iron wall.

“But the secrets of the world?”

“Yes! Take that man earlier for example. How did you think he felt?”

“…”

Like an actor on stage, Penny posed in dramatic fashion. “Guilt! ‘Oh, how can there be someone who lives like this?’ Gratitude! ‘Thank God for my life where I am spared the ability to see.’ Virtue! ‘I did what I could, what a man I am.’ … Scene.” She bowed.

“I don’t se-“

“But there’s more!” like a street salesman, Penny relentlessly continued, “That man he goes home to his family and friends and retells his story of the day. His children appreciate the roof over their head! His wife kisses him for being a hero! His friends cry realizing how good their lives are! … Scene.”

“…” Cestela waited expecting to be cut off if she spoke. “I think you’re being a little dramatic.”

“Maybe a tad bit. He didn’t look like one who would have friends.”

“No, not like that. I don’t think people react that heavily to a beggar on a street.”

Penny wiped mustard from her upper lip. “Maybe, maybe not. Even if it’s not, the sentiment is still the same. He gets to look at his reflection in the mirror and tell himself that he did something good today.”

“What a scam.”

“Scam?!” Penny stood up ready to rile up again “It only costs a minimum of one copper coin. Any more is just tip.”

“No, no. Not the price. You’re basically selling nothing.”

To Cestela’s surprise, Penny didn’t start shouting again. Instead, she tilted her head at her. “What do you mean? Don’t you do the same?” She pointed at the coat of arms on the shoulder of Cestela’s black coat – the symbol of the Defenders.

Cestela couldn’t even recall the core values of the Defenders nor would you catch her boasting the importance of her work. And because of that, she was silent.

Penny continued, “People hear of news of incoming Stéle but they don’t see them. Because of the wall. But they don’t need to. They know you’re there and they can sleep at night.”

The two took a bite of their sandwiches. One did so because they were done talking. The other did so because they didn’t know how to start.

Cestela had never considered the people on the safe side of the wall for there were no one there she cared for… nor was there anyone on the dangerous side either. But results do not always care for intent. When the Puppeteer considered this, she didn’t like the conclusions. So she chose to spit venom as it was all she knew.

“Ha. They don’t know that the walls will one day fall. They need to quit dreaming.”

Penny finished her sandwich and crumpled the wrapper in her hand. “Does it matter?”

“What does?”

“I’m sure you know more about whether or not the wall will fall than I do. But does it matter if they know?”

Cestela forced a laugh. “They’re just hiding from reality.”

“It’s not like they’ll grow wings if they look reality in the eyes. As it is now, they get to eat dinner with a light heart. Just look at the walls.” Penny pointed at the Southern iron wall.

Cestela’s eyes widened. Penny was pointing at the various ballistas and cannons aligned at the very top. Cestela knew. She knew that those artillery decorating the apex of the wall were just that – decorations. They were useless, broken, and obsolete. She would occasionally hear the complaints from the artillery supporters when one finally fully broke down as carrying up there was a large hassle. But this little girl…

“I was super young at the time…”

“…”

“When that dragon-class Stéle appeared.”

“…”

“I lost my parents. Oh, but I’m not really that sad. Grandfather takes care of me and I don’t remember my parents that much… But grandfather told me that they added those up so that we would be safe when another one came.”

“…”

“But the Defenders fight the Stéle all the time - like today.”

“…”

“And not a single one of those are fired.”

“…”

“Haha. Maybe they’re just too high up? Like they can only hit stone dragons or maybe they’re holding them just in case.”

“…”

“But they give people peace of mind… Just like what you and I do.”

One sold a genuine shield against reality, yet called it nothing.

The other sold a staged reality, yet called it salvation.

And between an iron wall with decorative cannons and a wooden bowl of theatrical tears, both were keeping a dying city from looking down.

Cestela violently crumbled her wrapper. “You’re wrong. I don’t care about the people of Dernier. I just do my job.”

“Hmm… Is that so?” mused Penny. “But then, ma’am. Why do you do your job?”

“…”

“Why did you buy me a sandwich?”

“…”

“Don’t people say that actions speak more than words?”

“Piss off.”