Signs of Corruption

Before Amalie set out on her mission, her parents had given her an endless stream of warnings and advice. “Always distrust before you trust.” “If a deal is too good, they’re probably trying to rob you.” “Don’t get too close to anyone who isn’t from Meraux; your life could be at stake.” “There are slavers and bandits everywhere, Amalie. Please, oh please be careful.” “Be frugal with your money, but never skimp when it comes to hiring protection.”

Amalie clenched her teeth as she remembered their parting words. She saw her father’s tanned and grizzled face, his kind smile half-covered by his beard. She saw her mother standing next to him, twisting her dark brown locks around her fingers and with a worried — but also proud — look in her eyes.

They had warned her. They had done everything in their power to ensure her safety. And yet… And yet...

Here she was, captive. All her belongings had been seized by the man who betrayed her, and all her followers were dead. A previously dignified member of House Michau, she had been reduced to a slave, doomed to be sold to the highest bidder.

Amalie closed her eyes, and images of her journey filled her mind. She had set out from Meraux with a small retinue of two dozen bodyguards and servants. She then spent a few months trading in the kingdoms, before making the five-hundred leagues’ journey to Elona. During the next two years, she had made quite a name for herself selling various trinkets she’d picked up along the way, as well as furs and wines produced only in the lands around Meraux.

But alas. As careful as she had been to heed her parents’ words, she had not been able to stay out of harm’s way. She had ultimately ventured too far with too little experience and knowledge of the world. And now, she was paying the bitter price for her reckless ambition.

“They say greed is among the greatest of follies. Is this my punishment, oh God?” she whispered sadly.

She had failed her task.

She had failed herself.

And worst of all, she had failed her family.

She hugged her legs close to her body and placed her chin on her knees. Though she felt like crying, she found that she no longer could. In the three days since the slavers left Elona, she had wept nearly nonstop. She had thought of ways to escape, each one more outlandish than the last. She had thought of her family, of her parents’ worry when she failed to return, both this year and the next. And finally, after those three long, torturous days, she had come to terms with her fate.

As she thought this, she felt a burst of pain as the wagon lurched beneath her, shaking the chains that bound her and the other captives in place. Ah. I may have accepted my fate. But not the pain... She frowned at this, and looked down to see a trickle of fresh blood running down her right foot. How unlucky. It had just started scabbing up.

Her ankles and wrists were bloodied and bruised; her pale, sensitive skin, completely foreign to the agitation caused by her shackles, had been chaffed to the point of peeling. Her arms and legs were sore too, from her struggling as the slavers had forced her into her chains.

At least they had spared her her honor. But even that would probably be taken from her soon.

She inhaled deeply and looked up at the sky. There was not a cloud in sight, and the blue expanse was broken only by the sun’s piercing rays. It was almost noon, and they should be stopping to eat soon.

She turned to look at the little girl who she had let lean against her shoulder, as sore as it was. The girl was named Pina, and she was just now waking up from her sleep.

Amalie smiled sadly. None of the captives were able to sleep soundly at night, and they only fell into true slumber when the sun began to rise and their eyes would no longer stay open. Until sleep relieved from them the burdens of reality, they would exchange their stories with each other, or otherwise wallow in their own despair.

There were seventeen of them in total; eleven females in the wagon she and Pina were in, and six males in the other. While she didn’t know the men’s backgrounds, she knew that the majority of the women had been sold to the slavers by their own families; it seemed she was the only one that had been abducted. Most of them were from villages to the East of Elona, and had been sold as the result of abject poverty.

Amalie shook her head. This was a world entirely different from the one she had come from. To think that she had spent two entire years in the Empire, and had had no ideas that such atrocities were occurring...

“Miss Amalie? Is it time to eat yet?”

“Not yet Pina, but I think we’ll be stopping soon.”

Pina nodded and tried to lift her arms up as she yawned. She winced as the shackles on her wrists painfully reminded her that they were still there.

Amalie grimaced as she watched.. It was almost too much to look at.

“Careful, Pina.”

“Miss Amalie, it hurts worse than yesterday.”

“Just hold on for a bit longer, okay? When we eat, I’ll ask for some extra water to wash your hands and feet with. That should make them feel a bit better.”

“Okay. Thanks, Miss Amalie.”

There would be no extra water, of course. Amalie looked to the woman sitting across from her, Yesna, and their eyes met. A mother who had lost both her children to disease, Yesna had joined Amalie in taking care of Pina, the only child in the group. The two of us will just have to go a bit thirstier than usual, Amalie thought. Now to wait for a stop.

Before long, the caravan came to a halt. The slavers, who had been riding on their horses alongside the two wagons, dismounted and started to go about the motions of food preparation. If there was one thing Amalie and the others could be thankful for in this situation, it was that they were at least reasonably well-fed.

The slaver who rode at the head of the group, a tall, well-built man who had introduced himself simply as ‘Stephano,’ now made his way over to the captives. Though he had barely spoken to them before, it seemed as if, today, he was going to make an announcement.

He held out his hands in a sarcastic display of friendliness.

“Ah, my beautiful slaves! I trust you’ve all been well. Three days into our journey, and we’re a quarter of the way to our destination, the Dragon’s Tail. Don’t worry! There’s more than enough food for this trip, so you won’t go hungry. And at the very end, you’ll be sold to your wonderful new masters. Will they be from the Empire? Or will they be from Tazorhrane? You won’t know ‘til we’re there!”

He clapped.

“And now, let me take a look at you all...”

Without further ado, he started at the men’s wagon, which was in front. After a brief glance over the people inside, he moved on to the women. Unlike before, he went slowly now, stopping for a good look at each and every one of them.

Soon, it was Amalie and Pina’s turn, and he walked up to where they sat. After examining them for an uncomfortably long period of time, he placed his hand on the younger girl’s head.

Pina whimpered.

“You scared, darling? Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you. Our boss likes the young ones clean.”

He turned his gaze to Amalie, whose face was now twisted in anger and disgust.

“Same goes for highborn girls like yourself.”

He smiled a toothy smile, one that belied the kind of man he really was. Had Amalie not known he was a slaver, she might have even found it charming. He shifted himself so that he was closer to her and glanced at her hands and feet.

“Sorry about those shackles, hmm? We would’ve liked to keep your pretty skin intact. But we also can’t have ya running off, now can we?”

As if making a silent threat, he gently patted the saber hanging at his side.

“I’m sure you’re not thinking of running off though, are ya?”

He craned his head forward, until his face was just inches from Amalie’s. As she quickly tried to look away, the slaver’s hand snapped up and grabbed her chin. He turned her head so that she was forced to look at him, and could smell his putrid breath as he spoke.

“Oof. It’s a shame the boss is so particular, or I’d have you for myself right now. But the last man to try something like that can’t really be called a man anymore… And I can’t say I want that for myself. Mmmmm. When the boss is done with you, though…”

At this, the slaver threw his head backwards and gave a primal howl, one that caused all the women to shudder and recoil. It was as if he were proclaiming that he was a wolf, and each and every one of them was his prey.

When he was done, he wiped his lips and shoved Amalie aside, right into Pina. Both girls yelped in pain.

“You know, I might even raise our child,” the slaver laughed.

As he walked away, Amalie felt an unfamiliar darkness begin to surround her.

“No…” she whispered. “No…”

She cowered, her body shaking with fear. Though she knew the man was leaving, she felt as he might reach out and grab her again at any moment. Her eyes darted around uncontrollably, and she began to break out into a cold sweat. The false wall of acceptance she had built for herself had cracked, and was now tumbling down. The true weight of her situation was dawning on her, and she felt as if her very soul was being sucked out of her body.

She lifted her hands and placed them over her head, digging her fingers into her scalp. She had been ready to give up. In fact, she thought she already had. But no! She couldn’t. Not when such a horrific fate awaited her. Not when it awaited all of them. There must be something she could do. There must...

In the midst of her anguish, she noticed that Pina, though not fully understanding the situation, had begun to shiver as well. Feeling the small defenseless girl whimpering beside her, Amalie felt a renewed will bursting from her heart.

Things could not end like this. But no matter how she tried, and no matter how much she wanted to escape, the fact would remain: there was simply nothing she could do.

As that dreaded feeling of helplessness spread throughout her body, she began to pray — pray, to the God who had forsaken her, but who was the only possible hope in her despair.

“Oh holy Father, hear my cry. Forgive the wrongs of my unfaithful self, and spare this innocent child beside me. Please, oh God. Please. Please send help… Anyone… From anywhere...”

The tears she had previously been unable to cry now soaked her face.

“Please.”

***
***
***

The city of Elona lay on the northern edge of the Valthynian Empire, along Lake Elia, and was the last large settlement before the lush, rolling plains of the West gave way to the dry, arid deserts of the East. Started hundreds of years prior as a simple trading post, it had since become the third largest city in the Empire, falling behind only (and admittedly, dwarfed by) the Capital and the city of Stravos.

Its streets were cobbled and well-maintained, and its people shone with an ignorant cheer that only decades of peace could bring. As a result of the various trade routes that passed through its gates, it had grown to become extremely wealthy and diverse — there was no greater example of this than the city’s markets, which stretched from the walls all the way to the central plaza.

Here would be a merchant from the South, trading exotic skins and the finest jewelry; next would be a local blacksmith, offering weapons and armor of nearly peerless quality; then there would be a traveler from Ryū, selling fragrant spices that no one else had ever even heard of, let alone smelled; and so it would go, on and on as far as the eye could see.

The city’s inns were stuffed, its farmlands were bountiful, and its people appeared, for the most part, happy.

Of course, Elona had not always enjoyed such opulence. In just the century before the last, Elona was razed to the ground twice, once by the Horde, and once by the Empire in reclaiming it sixty years later.

Indeed, the city’s towering fortifications served as a grand testament to the fear and hardships the past generations had to endure. But as it was, such monuments were manned in these days only as a formality, and were perhaps the only part of the city that showed obvious signs of disrepair.

It was at the base of one of these towers, then, that a man aged twenty-one and his sister, five years his junior, now stood, looking up at its cracked stone walls. The girl was holding a battered book in one hand and a pen in the other; she appeared to be taking notes, as well as making a few sketches here and there. There was a look of mild disappointment on her face as she shifted her gaze from the tower to the book and then back again.

“This is the fifteenth one I’ve examined, and they’ve all been like this. I mean, I can’t say I blame these people, since they’ve been at peace for so long, but…”

As she trailed off, she finished what she was writing. She then closed the book and tucked it and her pen away into the suede bag she carried at her side.

She sighed.

“Well, I guess all we can do is hope things don’t go sour anytime soon.”

“Though if they did, it’d be quite the learning experience for everyone. Not that the learning would help because… well… you know.”

The girl shook her head in disdain.

“Tsch. Yeah, I’m sure of it now. I definitely prefer it when you keep your mouth shut.”

Her brother laughed at this and gave his sister a pat on the back — or perhaps more appropriately, her waist-length hair.

“Now, now. You and I both know you don’t mean that.”

She shook her head again and batted his hand aside. Then she punched him in the gut, knocking the air out of him. While the movement was most certainly violent and arguably uncalled for, the average onlooker could still easily discern that there was no real malice behind this exchange.

“We have things we need to be doing, let’s go.”

Her green eyes shimmered with glee as she turned her back on her brother. Paying no heed to the spluttering mess behind her, she began to walk away.

“Christa! Wait up...”

Still hunched over, he stumbled clumsily after her, in a manner not unlike a horse or some similar animal trying to walk only on its two back legs.

Continuing to ignore her brother, the girl, Christa, increased the length of her strides.

“Come on!”

“I’ll be in the central plaza! Oh, and if you could stop by the orphanage too. Tell them we’re leaving for Arabis, and maybe make another donation. And that we’ll be back… soon. Thaaaanks!”

And with that, she turned a corner and disappeared, swallowed up by the stone buildings that filled the city.

When he saw that she had left, he dropped his act and straightened himself up. He sighed and rubbed his stomach.

The punch had hurt. A lot. Not quite as much as he had made it out to be, but it was clear his sister’s arm had gotten much, much stronger. He put his hands on his waist, feeling happy with himself. He very much enjoyed making fun of his sister, but such crimes had to paid for in some way or another. This time, it was making her confident in the power of her punches.

It was a good feeling, he thought, to humor his sister every once in a while.

“Now that that’s done with…”

He stretched. On to the orphanage, then. If he recalled correctly, it was located about halfway between the city’s walls and its center.

There was a path from the tower he was standing next to that led to the city’s outermost Ring road (there were thirteen such concentric roads that wrapped their way around Elona, and they facilitated the majority of the movement in the city). He stepped onto it and began to walk.

From here, he would take the various streets leading further into the city until he reached the canal. Then it was just a matter of crossing a bridge and taking a right turn — the orphanage would be there, on his left side.

As he finished mapping out the route in his mind, he took a moment to gaze at the passing scenery.

He was in one of the residential districts now, and the sound of families moving about their mornings filled his ears. Amongst it all, he picked up a loud argument between a young boy and his mother, about how unfair it was that he had to help with preparing lunch while his siblings didn’t. He was the oldest child in the family, surely.

As the man listened to this exchange, which was now fading away as he continued to walk forward, he couldn’t help but crack a bittersweet smile. Ah, the memories of his own home, of his own mother. He remembered the times when he had wished his mother didn’t exist, because he had felt she’d punished him too harshly for something bad he did, or because she wouldn’t let him out to play during a rainy day.

If he had known his mother would actually pass away, and while he and his sister had still been so young, perhaps he wouldn’t have thought such thoughts. His mother’s kind hands, her loving smile, her soothing voice. What he wouldn’t give to see her again... He clicked his tongue in agitation. He had already realized it some time ago, but he could no longer fully recall his mother’s face.

In his dreams, he would see her pale skin, long, white hair, and dark green eyes. But before long, and always without fail, the already blurry picture would muddle further, and his mind would automatically replace it with an image of his sister.

Perhaps his mother and sister really did look that alike? But even then, there would obviously be differences…

Caught up in how annoyed he was with himself, he jerked slightly in surprise when he suddenly found that he had already reached the canal.

The so-called “Elona River,” he mused. It was fondly referred to as such by the city’s residents, but there really was no mistaking it for an actual river. Along the edges of the water was nothing but vertical stone walls and miniature wharfs; a more blatantly manmade waterway would be difficult to find. Built to allow merchants greater ease in bringing their goods deep into the city, it went around the inner districts before snaking out to the docks, and bordered the Fifth and “Fifth-and-a-half” Ring roads (separated only by the canal and two rows of buildings, they were deemed too close to be considered truly distinct).

Elona’s Merchant District existed along nearly the entire length of the canal; as he crossed over the bridge, the man saw many small ships passing through the murky waters, each carrying cargo from one location to the next.

Not for the first time since entering the city, he noted how well planned it all was. But of course, they did more or less get three shots at it…

Chuckling at this morbid joke, he reached the end of the bridge and made a right turn.

“Ah, before I forget,” he said to himself.

He reached for the coin purse he hung around his neck and retrieved five gold coins from within.

“That should do it.”

Having done this, he retightened the drawstring on his purse and continued walking. After he had passed just a few buildings, he arrived at his destination.

The orphanage was a large, aged building laid out in the shape of a horseshoe. Its two wings wrapped around a paved yard, and the man could see children playing in it now. Though one might expect the orphanage to be rich and well-maintained, located as it was on the same street as the merchant companies, it nevertheless exuded an air one could only describe as that of a struggling institution. Just like anywhere, the man sadly thought, the welcoming faces he saw on the city’s denizens were, more often than not, nothing more than facades.

A thin, frail-looking woman of maybe forty years old — the headmistress, Mother Katalina — was also in the yard, sweeping it. She looked up as the man approached and when she realized who he was, her face lit up.

“Oh, Lord Luka! How nice it is to see you again!”

Luka returned her cheery greeting before politely asking her not to call him “Lord.” He had no land of his own, and the term was technically incorrect, after all.

“Ah, but in the hearts and minds of all the children here, you are as radiant as a king.”

Luka smiled sheepishly at this and bowed his head in deference.

“I… Thank you for your kind words, Mother.”

“No need to thank me, they are all too deserved. With that said, Lor — Mr. Luka, is the Lady Christa not with you today?”

“Please, she’s not a la — No, she isn’t. She had other things to attend to.”

“Ah, I see. I hope she is well.”

The headmistress looked relieved, though only momentarily so. Were Luka’s eyes not so sharp, he might have missed it entirely. Knowing from experience that Katalina and his sister didn’t get along, he chose to ignore it.

“Thank you, she’s doing just fine. Anyways.”

He put up his hand, signaling that he had no time for further small talk.

“I came here to tell you that my sister and I will be leaving the city soon, likely later today. Christa wanted me to say goodbye for the both of us, and also to leave you with this.”

He lifted his right hand and opened his palm, showing the five gold coins that he held inside. He motioned for the headmistress to reach out her hand and take the money.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. You’ve already donated such a large sum. And then this amount, on top of that...”

“Please. It’s for the children. Christa and I know firsthand how hard it is growing up as orphans. While we can’t do much directly, we’d like to help where we can, to make their lives just a little bit brighter.”

The headmistress pondered this for a while, before finally accepting the coins and bowing deeply.

“Thank you so much, Lord Luka. May the heavens bless you and all who gain your favor.”

Suppressing a sigh at the mode of address and with a smile on his face, Luka nodded his head. Few things felt better than the gift of giving, he reflected.

“Before you go, would you like to visit the children?”

“I’m sorry. While I would love to, I — ”

“Oh, won’t you please? Even just the ones outside. They’ll be so happy to see you.”

Before he could protest, she had already called for the children playing in the yard. Upon hearing Luka’s name, they quickly dropped what they were doing and rushed over in delight. When they reached him, he saw that they all had hungry looks in their eyes.

Ah, that’s right. Last first time he came, he and his sister had brought candy.

He bit his lip.

“Sorry! I didn’t bring any treats this time.”

The children “awww’d” in unison, but Luka could see that they were still very happy to see him. They had probably been treated to an unusually nice meal after his first donation, he imagined. As if the thought of candy had already left their minds, the children had gathered around Luka’s legs and were pulling on his clothes.

“Come play with us!”

“Where’s Miss Christa? Will she come soon?”

Feeling rather awkward, Luka answered their torrent of questions as best he could and ruffled their hair, one head after the other.

As he was doing this, he noticed that one girl hadn’t joined the others. She sat alone a few meters away, her back against the only tree in the yard. She was staring off into the distance, and seemed completely unaware of Luka’s — or anyone else’s, for that matter — presence.

The headmistresses eyes followed his and she read the look of concern on his face.

“That’s Melanie over there. As for why she’s like that... Well, it’s… it’s very sad. A few days ago, one of the girls passed away during the night. She and Melanie were best friends, and were like sisters to each other.”

“No! She didn’t die! She didn’t die!”

Melanie, who had snapped out of her daze and had somehow heard the headmistress's words despite being so far away, stood up and screamed. The girl’s voice was shrill, and it sounded as if she were on the verge of going insane.

Multiple passerby glanced in their direction at this unnerving cry, and gazed questioningly at Luka and the headmistress before continuing on their ways.

The headmistress looked at Melanie with pitying eyes, and Luka found his heart going out to the both of them. The girl, because she had essentially lost yet another member of her family; the headmistress, because it was her responsibility to help this poor child come to grips with reality.

“I’m sorry I can’t be of help with this.”

The headmistress sadly shook her head.

“Please don’t burden yourself, Lord Luka. You’ve done so much for this orphanage already.”

Luka didn’t know what to say. What could he say? For some reason, he suddenly felt extremely out of place.

“Well I… I’ll be taking my leave now, then.”

He knelt down and said goodbye to all the children before standing up again and exchanging a few more words with the headmistress. When they were done, the headmistress called the children to her side and they waved at Luka as he began to walk away. He waved back at them, and only stopped when he could no longer see them through the crowd moving along the road.

He sighed. He could only imagine what that girl, Melanie, was going through right now. If only there were something he could do to help her…

Trying to get her off his mind, and trying to shake off the sense of regret he was feeling, he shifted his focus to the task at hand: finding Christa.

Luka turned right at the intersection where the bridge was, and headed towards the city center. If his hunch was correct, she would be standing somewhere where the market stalls were most densely packed together, taking notes. She always had to know what was happening around her, and the central markets, where only the most accomplished traders could set up shop, were a great place to gather insights.

Before long, he had made his way into the city’s giant central plaza. It was teeming with people, and the air was filled with the sound of barter and goods being exchanged. At the very center of the plaza was a towering obelisk that contained Elona’s town hall; around it, at its corners, stood four dragon statues sculpted out of marble.

Luka headed in the direction of the obelisk and, after just a short search through the crowd, found Christa; she was doing exactly what he had predicted. She was standing with her back against the base of one of the dragon statues and was staring intently at a pocket of merchant stalls ahead of her. Her notebook was open, but she wasn’t writing.

Thinking at first that he would like to scare her, Luka ultimately decided against it and walked up to his sister, waving to get her attention.

“Hey! Christa!”

“Heyo. Is your gut okay?”

“No.”

“Oh dear.”

Luka reached his sister and settled himself next to her, also leaning his back against the statue.

“I went to the orphanage as you asked, and gave them five gold coins. You really should have come, you know. The kids were really happy to see me. They would’ve been even happier to see you, I think.”

Christa frowned. She loved children, and she clearly would have liked to visited the orphanage before they left Elona. She sighed.

“I don’t really like the headmistress there.”

“Right, but how could you not? She’s such a kind woman!”

“I know she is. I don’t really understand it myself, Luka, so please don’t press any further.”

Luka, who had already opened his mouth to speak in continued protest, now quickly shut it.

“Mmm.”

“Thank you.”

They passed a few moments in silence, watching the markets around them.

“We’re wasting time. I’m gonna go ask that guy over there where we can find work.”

“Okay.”

Luka had picked out the short and jolly looking man behind the counter of the stall directly in front of them. He walked towards the stall and, after the people shopping ahead of him were done, went up to the trader. He held up a single copper coin to indicate that he was only looking for information, and the trader nodded in acknowledgement.

As Luka explained what he wanted, the man’s cheerful demeanor subsided somewhat. His mustached twitched slightly as he began to speak.

“Hm. If you’re looking for that kind of mercenary work, try the Black Horse Inn along the Eighth Ring road, south side. It’s a pretty popular spot for less well-off travellers to hire free swords like yourselves.”

Ignoring the hint of scorn in the trader’s words, Luka thanked him and dropped the coin in his hand.

Without saying goodbye, he turned and made his way back to his sister, who was now reading her notes. She looked distressed, and was talking to herself.
“Lemme go over this again… Since we arrived here a week ago, there’s been a girl in that stall there who said she was from the Republic of Meraux. She was selling mainly furs and wine, and seemed to be making quite a bit of money. She had a few armored guards with her as well, so she was probably someone quite important. But now, in her place, is someone advertising that he’s from Liestadt, a known enemy of Meraux… and he’s selling the same kinds of goods. How curious… Dammit...”

Meraux and Liestadt were two rival republics on the far west of the continent that constantly engaged in trade wars with each other. Evidently, their reach spread as far east as Elona and, even here, they were at each other’s throats.

“Oy, Christa. What’s got you worked up?”

“You see that stall over there? The one with the woodland furs arrayed on the table in front of it. Four down from the one you just went to. Up until today, it’s always been run by a girl. A girl with chestnut brown hair, who wore these cute linen dresses. Yesterday it was a light blue one, I think. Do you remember anyone like that?”

Luka squinted his eyes, searching his head for some recollection of the girl. A few moments later, he frowned and shook his head.

“Nope, I got nothin’.”

“Cheh.”

“Sorry? Not all of us have crazy memories like yours. Plus you have that notebook of yours.”

He gestured at her book, which was now opened to a page with a frighteningly-detailed drawing of the girl she had just described.

“Um. Why do you care about this girl so much?”

“Oh.”

Christa, holding both her book and pen with her left hand, reached into her bag with her right and procured a small statuette of a phoenix. It was made out of a strange green stone laced with streaks of white and appeared decidedly exotic.

“I bought ink from her when we first arrived, since she was the only one that had the kind that works best with my pen. You know, while you were off getting your spear fixed? We had a good chat after I told her we’d been to Meraux before. For whatever reason, she decided to give me this afterwards. I thought it was really nice of her, and I do really like this pheonix, so…”

“I see. That’s honestly a bit weird, but I s’pose you’re… not wrong… to be concerned. Do you want to look into it, then? We’ve done jobs involving situations like this before. I would’ve liked to set out as soon as possible, but it doesn’t make that much of a difference either way. I hope.”

Christa bit her lip, and almost a minute passed while she silently mulled over the situation, her brother staring intently at her all the while.

“No. I am very much worried for her, but I think it’s best we put this aside for now. I highly doubt we can look into this too much without placing ourselves into a needlessly dangerous situation. Nor do I want to talk to that man in the stall now, with that evil face of his.”

Luka looked back at the stall, and examined the features of the Liestadtan trader manning it.

“Huh. You’re absolutely right.”

The man had a long, thin head, along with a long, thin nose that ended in a slight hook.

“Damn. That’s… wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Well okay then. Your acquaintance, your decision. So we’ll just continue our original plans?”

Christa nodded.

“Did you get any information from the man you spoke to?”

“Yeah. There’s an inn a block north of the Third residential district frequented by the kind of client we’re looking for. Only problem now is finding someone travelling all the way to Arabis.”

“We could always just go to a city along the way and find someone else to travel with.”

“I don’t want to do that.”

“Fair.”

While they were talking, both of them had already begun heading south, in the direction of the inn. They passed the journey in silence; after nearly half an hour of walking through the crowded streets, they found themselves standing before the doors of a somewhat unkempt-looking building. In stark contrast to the aged stone walls, a beautifully painted sign with a majestic black mare was hung over the door. In fine gold lettering, it proclaimed this name to all passerby: “The Black Horse Inn.”

“Here we are.”

With his sister following close behind, Luka went up to the door, pulled it open, and slipped inside. As he did so, he found himself entering into a surprisingly homely atmosphere. Despite it still being morning, the inn was filled with a healthy number of patrons. Light seeped in from the windows, and the soft glow was complemented by candles that were sconced around the room. A quiet but lively tune played from a small yellow wisp floating next to the innkeeper’s head.

It was clear from those present that this inn was frequented by a wide variety of peoples. That said, the majority of them were merchants, and they glanced up at the pair as they entered with curious looks on their faces. More likely than not, they were interested in whether or not Luka and Christa would be interested in the work they were offering.

Luka noticed this and turned to his sister.

“Well, it seems the trader wasn’t lying.”

“Indeed not. Who do we talk to?”

“I’m not sure, but we’ll have to start somewhere.”

His eyes met those of a man sitting at a table in the middle of the inn. There were two others sitting at the table and it appeared that they were all associates of some kind. They were dressed in the fine wool clothes common in Arabis, and the large packs they had placed on the floor beside their chairs suggested that they were just about ready to set out on a trip.

“Let’s try that table.”

The two siblings walked over to the man, who smiled as they approached. His friends were looking at them as well and were closely examining their equipment.

“Hello, my name is Luka and this is my sister Christa.”

“G’day, the name’s Yosef. These are my partners Wolfgang and Paul. Did ya need something?”

“Yes. We were wondering if you were going to Arabis. Your names and dress suggest you all are from there.”

“Looking for work, eh? The three of us are here to hire a few swords for our caravan... But going to Arabis? Nah, not us. Definitely not us. We are from there, and we will be going back eventually. But as I’m sure you know, the situation in Kyprissia has been getting dicey recently. And I honestly think you’d be hard pressed to find anyone willing to travel through there with no-names like you two — no offense, I come here a lot and I’ve never seen you before — for some time yet.”

Yosef paused.

“Actually, I lied. Well, I didn’t, because you’d still be hard pressed but… ahhh why do I bother? That guy over there. The one who’s nearly bald… poor bastard, I see he’s not that old now that I’m actually taking a good look at him… Anyways. Last I heard, he was trying to find a sword or two to escort him and his family back to Arabis. Didn’t seem like he cared if they were too reputable or not. Sounded kind of desperate, and said he needed them soon. But no one’s taken him up on it. Probably because he isn’t able to pay enough to compensate for the added danger with the political situation but hey — he’s probably your only, and therefore best, bet.”

He spread his arms out, his hands open and palms facing upwards, as if to say “and there you have it.”

“I see. Um. I suppose we’ll speak to him then. Thank you very much.”

Luka made a slight bow in thanks and Yosef responded with a nod. As he straightened himself up, he saw that Christa was already making her way over to the nearly-bald man. By the time Luka made his way to the table, his sister had already introduced herself.

“We heard that you’re looking for people to accompany you to Arabis. Barring anything unreasonable from your end, we’d like to offer you our services, my brother Luka and I.”

She reached out to Luka’s approaching figure, wrapped her arm around his neck, and dragged him to her side.

The man sitting at the table eyed them suspiciously, as was expected of a seasoned traveller. As it was, anyone who valued their life in this world could never be too careful. Tricksters were everywhere, and it was hard to ascertain if an unfamiliar “mercenary” was actually a bandit in disguise.

“So you’re Christa, and this is your brother Luka.”

The fact that they were siblings, at the very least, was obviously true. They both had the same strong, sharp facial features, green eyes, and thick white hair. The man continued to appraise them, now turning his attention to their arms and armor.

The brother carried a long, black-shafted spear on his back and a simple shortsword at his side. For armor, he wore a black brigandine; the rest of his outfit was leather and thick cloth. All standard fare, the man thought.

The sister, meanwhile, had a far more interesting ensemble. She wore light plate armor over the entirety of her right arm, with an ornate pauldron at her shoulder and a clawed gauntlet on her hand. Her left arm, in stark contrast, would have been completely bare were it not for the bandages that were wrapped tightly over it. She had forgone chest armor, and wore an embroidered tunic with a blood-red sash around her waist.

A spellsword, the man thought. And indeed, he could see no other weapons on her than the bastard sword strapped to her back.

Though their equipment suggested that they knew what they were doing, the man still hesitated. The two siblings standing before him looked rather young; youth and experience tended to be mutually exclusive.

“How old are you two?”

“I’m twenty-one years of age. My sister is sixteen.”

“Really? I knew you two were young, but not that she’s still in her teens. Please think this over seriously. This is likely going to be a fairly risky trip. I’m only transporting myself, my wife and son, and a small array of goods. My wagon alone is not going to be a big target. But your sister…”

He looked her over again. While her features did not immediately strike one as attractive, the longer one looked at her, the more they would realize that she was, in fact, a true beauty. It would have been a lie if the man said that he hadn’t felt a slight stirring then, and bemoaned how poorly his wife had aged.

He shook his head to clear it.

“If bandits were to catch wind of her, we’d be set down upon like carrion for the crows. Of the two of you, only she would survive. And when all's said and done, she might wish that she’d have died as well.”

The man looked at them apologetically.

“Sorry to be so frank.”

“No, don’t apologize. If anything, the fact that you’ve openly voiced your concerns puts us at ease. As for whether or not your concerns are valid… Well, thank you for the, erm, indirect flattery. But rest assured, such a thing will not come to pass. As my brother can attest to, I make it a point to welcome any takers. I just also make sure to slaughter them all before they take even one step through the door.”

Christa’s eyes glistened savagely at this statement, and it looked for a moment as if an emerald flame was burning its way outward through her irises. Seeing this sudden change in demeanor, and unable to shake off the quick shock of fear that coursed through his body, the man recoiled.

There was now no doubt in his mind that this girl standing before him was well-versed in the act of murder. Despite being so young, it was clear that she had killed many times before.

The man gulped. In truth, he still had his withholdings. He didn’t yet trust the siblings and, as he had said, the girl would paint a giant target on their small caravan. But he sorely needed to set out as soon as possible, and he had been looking for escorts in vain for nearly a week. And of course, getting on the bad side of these two was something he wanted to avoid...

“Ah, blast it all. Sorry for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Mattheus, and I hail from the city of Kaiserau, in Arabis. I came here in the hopes of making it big, but the fierce competition ensured that that didn’t happen.”

He chuckled bitterly and bit his lip, a painful memory of failure stabbing at his conscience.

“Anyways. The job is to escort me and my family back to my hometown. I don’t have much to pay you with; it would have been a generous amount in times of peace, but it doesn’t even come close to accounting for the added danger we’ll be facing with the fighting in Kyprissia. If that’s okay with you, I’d like to set out within the next two hours. Oh, and let us be very clear. If things go bad, I’m giving up the two of you to anyone that asks. My wellbeing comes before yours.”

Luka and Christa nodded their heads in unison.

“Understood. Though again, we’ll never come close to reaching such a point.”

“Well alright then.”

Mattheus stood up and shook the siblings’ hands.

“I look forward to working with you.”

“And us, likewise.”

“Great. I’ll head out to gather my family and belongings. Let’s meet outside the west gate.”

“Okay. We’ll take the chance to stock up a bit as well.”

The two parties bowed their heads to acknowledge each other and, with that, set off for their respective tasks.