Destination Unknown

Run.

Her mind and body were in sync in this thought, Iris wanting nothing more than to be literally anywhere else.

The individual in front of her was old, just by physical looks alone. He had ebony skin, longer locks that flowed down behind his back, and stark green eyes. He looked younger than Elder Varron, with less wrinkles, but his presence held a weight. It was almost tangible in nature. Moreover, he carried himself like everything else around him was below him in status, and Iris could certainly believe that. She didn’t know who this was, but the two guards who had finally arrived a few steps away from the individual were uncertain how to approach someone who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

Luckily for the guards, he made the decision for them. He turned his gaze and body from Iris and shifted his cloak to the side, where she managed to just get a glimpse of a golden medallion or brooch, she couldn’t be sure. Iris hadn’t even been able to see what the sigil was, but the stiffened frames of the guards told her he must have been someone high ranking within the kingdom.

“H-how can we help you, advisor?” asked the guard on the left, a more heavyset man who was twitching nervously, unsure how to present himself. He also attempted to adopt a more educated tone, and somewhat succeeded, none of his usual Reaches-influenced slang weaseling itself into his speech. The other guard was more wiry, and younger than the first by a good margin, if Iris had to guess.

Instead of answering, the advisor—whom Iris had yet to take her eyes off of—sent a questioning glance towards Iris, one eyebrow raised. The guard followed his gaze, and he practically tripped over himself to answer the still unnamed individual.

“The girl? She’s a thief one’a ours got. Not sure if she’s got dad or mum out there. Looks like she ain’t eatin’ much, I’d say she be orphaned.”

Iris could hear all hints of false education disappear like an extinguished candle. And wow…the guards' slang was rife in his speech.

As if some part of that information made a decision for the advisor that Iris didn’t know about, he looked back towards Iris while holding his hand out to the guards, palm up, face not betraying his thoughts for even a moment. For a breadth, the guard that had spoken just looked at the hand with a furrowed brow. Somehow, the first guard appeared to get the hint, nudging the first guard while throwing a pointed look at the oversized ring of keys hanging from the guard’s waist.

Afraid to keep the highly ranked advisor waiting, the guard shakily detached the ring of keys from his belt and immediately handed them over.

This entire time, Iris had been in a bit of a daze, not sure of what was transpiring right in front of her. So when the advisor unlocked her cell door and motioned for her to exit the room, she kind of just sat there and stared. The more wiry guard was also confused at the advisor’s choice to let Iris go, and rightfully so. Yet when he attempted to voice his opinion, it was like the newcomer had sensed the rebuttal, and he turned his gaze to the guard. The man’s eyes no longer held that same sense of calculation and coldness. Now, they held the ire of a noble—or something similar—who was being questioned by someone they saw as something even less than a gutter rat.

The wiry one promptly shut his mouth and watched on as the advisor once again motioned Iris out of the cell, this time with the first words she’d heard him speak.

“Let’s go.”

They were simple words; two you would hear used in many a conversation between peoples. But for some reason, they filled Iris with a sense of urgency and importance she didn’t know was possible. Even coming from a gruff voice that was ripe with years of use, the words still had Iris scrambling out of the cell like the interior was on fire. Once free, the man held the keys back to the guard, and he began to usher her out of the room and into the open air of the Reaches, leaving behind two very confused and unsure guards.

***

Aerowyn tried to communicate to the least extent possible when doing this gods’ awful errand. The girl next to him looked so lost, and there was this despair in her eyes when he had first seen her in the cell. Knowing she was a criminal, even if only a petty thief, didn’t make it any easier.

The only reason he didn’t allow himself to converse, especially with the girl, was to avoid humanizing her in his own eyes. He knew he was bringing her to her to an early grave, that much was certain. The least he could do for himself was to see her as just a package to be delivered.

As he resolved himself to make the trek to the castle, a long uphill one at that, he knew it was going to be rough to avoid talking to her when he saw her complexion shift from confusion to determination.

***

“Why did you free me?” Iris asked.

If she was being forced to some unknown destination, she would at least try to get a read on the current situation. The so-called advisor didn’t answer, opting for a stoic silence as he placed a hand on her back, pushing her forward into a brisk walk. She wasn’t going to give up, though.

“Okay, let’s try starting from the beginning. What’s your name?” she asked.

Silence, again.

“If you’re not going to talk, I’ll at least tell you a little about myself. Is that alright?”

Seeing the advisor not partake in her quest for conversation only spurred her on.

“My name is Iris, no last name, orphan and all. I’m not a thief by the way,” she said indignantly, “I was diving with my friend, Tarros, when we found the—. Wait, I need to go find Tarros!” She spun around, ready to search every nook and cranny to ensure the safety of her only friend, but the advisor’s hand on her back was an iron will that would not break. He continued to push her forward even as she tried to turn around.

If going around wasn’t going to work, she was damn sure going to try the other directions. Through wasn’t an option, and finding a way over the hand on her back was not an athletic feat her body was up to. So she did the next best thing.

Abruptly ducking, she was glad when the hand didn’t follow her downward momentum, giving her the leeway needed to run under the arm and back to her friend.

She didn’t even make it two steps.

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The hand that was on her back snaked its way around her arm, halting her entirely, and giving her quite the shock at the strength contained in that vice-like grip. What was it with these older men and grabbing her with enough strength that felt like it could crush metal?

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, but they’re not my concern.” grunted the advisor, voice laden with impatience.

Iris wanted to fight more to escape, but she knew it was hopeless. There was no one on the streets this late at night, as the more unsavory types took over at this time in the Reaches. That usually meant the gangs were prowling around their respective territories, looking for easy prey.

If that wasn’t enough, she had just watched this man strong-arm two watchguards into her release while not even speaking a word to them. She couldn’t do that, so how could she best her current captor?

With a start, she realized he’d actually said something in response to her critically failed escape maneuver.

“Can I at least have your name?” she asked, exasperatingly so.

A short silence, one Iris didn’t think was going to end, until finally.

“Aerowyn.”

She was getting somewhere! Maybe not to the point of finding out the whole story of what in the Mother’s name was happening, but it was at least something. The more she tried asking, the more she realized this Aerowyn was not going to be sharing more than his name. He looked to be deep in thought, even as they made their way to the wall separating the Reaches from the Middle District.

Aerowyn’s hand still clasped around her thin arm and Iris expected them to run into some sort of hiccup along the way. If she had to guess? It was going to be at the entrance gate to the Middle District. There was no way they were going to allow her to go through to a higher district. She was a Reaches denizen, through and through, and an orphan on top of that.

She’d never been more wrong in her life.

With a flash of that same gold sigil underneath his cloak, Aerowyn had them blazing through the gate, not even needing to stop to chat with any of the guards. They had received a simple nod from the guard captain on duty, and they were in the Middle District. This was where Iris went from incessantly probing her captor with questions to a blissful quiet, engrossed by the sights around her.

Buildings were intact, more whole than any she had laid eyes on within the Reaches, with not a single crumbling stone or cobweb dominating some dark corner. It was by no means grand, but when Iris had spent her entire waking moments within the confines of the Reaches, it was like she was exploring a strange new land. A land that, unlike the district behind her, had quite a few city folk still out at this hour, not nearly as worried about getting into a situation they couldn’t handle.

Iris only gave them a brief up and down, taking in their well-made clothes that were free of rips and tears. They probably offering more bodily temperature control than anything Iris had. Just as she gave them a once over, they also stared back at her, not used to seeing something so foul within the Crests.

An unwelcome Reaches fiend.

While Aerowyn and Iris continued their trek through the city blocks, Iris received more than her fair share of those same looks. Some even made audible sounds to show their disgust towards her, going so far to spit at her feet, some even dry heaving at the sight of her…or maybe that was her smell.

Oh well, not like she could ever afford a bath.

Only the scant few looked at her with anything other than revulsion. Even then, the pity written all over their faces didn’t sit well with Iris, as that only made her more aware of her own sense of hopelessness. The only thing that helped was the welcome distraction of the local architecture, which had Iris gaping like some hapless sea creature brought onto land.

They passed taverns, alive with music and patrons singing along, liquor no doubt aplenty. Iris could see the silhouettes of tavern-goers through the lit windows as they bumbled about and held their mugs up in their liveliness. Conveniently, there was a brothel next to each tavern, bringing with it its own unique soundscape. Every dwelling was in pristine condition, with decorations such as plants that only bloomed at night, their petals grasping for the moonlight. Others had special hanging lanterns with colored flames ranging from green to blue to purple, almost giving off different feelings when looking at their glow, though they were more rare than just the regular lanterns.

Not a word was exchanged between the two, Iris too busy gasping at each and every new sight, and Aerowyn dead set on reaching their destination.

Soon enough, they could see a similar wall separating the districts, this one specifically one that led to the Heights, the highest district within the city.

Getting close to the gate, Iris was sure they were going to be stopped and questioned, especially when they had to be quite the sight. One well dressed and imposing older man pulling along a young adult woman that was more bones than muscle.

She was proved wrong, yet again.

If anything, these guards, dressed in finer armor than the ones of the Reaches and the Crests, stood even straighter when they saw this her captor. She noticed this of course, and took it to mean Aerowyn was someone well known and well respected—or feared—within the district. They passed without trouble, and when she saw the Upper District for the first time, she truly believed she had gone through a gateway to a new world.

Where the previous district had been clean and well off, this district had to be the antithesis of dirty. Dust and grime were probably not even in the known vocabulary in the minds of those who lived there. Here, the buildings were made of cut stones, bricks somehow shining with a faint luster. No house or business was less than two stories, with many reaching up to four or five. The multicolored lanterns were more bountiful, enhancing the already beautiful architecture with their glow.

After walking through a shopping area that spanned a few city blocks, Iris had seen all sorts of expensive businesses, all closed for the night, yet their goods were still on display within the window. But there was one thing different between here and the last district that was confusing her, so she decided to broach the subject with Aerowyn.

“Where’s the taverns, the late night people?” she asked, looking around, thinking maybe she missed them.

Aerowyn cocked his brow, surprised at her inquisitive nature.

The corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile. “Attentive, a characteristic common to thieves.”

“Not a thief, an orphan, one that was just in the wrong place at the wrong time” she corrected, pointing at herself with her free hand, “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Well, think about it like this: drinking in the Middle District is to put oneself into a drunken stupor. But here,” he paused, waving his other arm in reference to the city around them, “here is a place filled with constantly politicking and conniving nobles. Drinking in the Upper District is an event hosted by Houses as both a show of face and influence, whether it be a fancy ball or an abundant feast. What better way to show off one’s House than by gallivanting people through your abode, achievements, priceless artifacts and decorations all on display?”

“But what about—”

“Let me guess—where do people visiting from outside the city stay?” he interrupted, guessing her question before the words left her lips. “Those with enough weight to their name, such as the Dukes and Duchesses, also stay with the most prominent of Houses within the district. I’d go so far as to say they use the visit as an excuse to throw more parties.” Aerowyn said, irritation clear. After a pause, his eyes took on a faraway look, and he even stopped them in the middle of the now smooth road. “We’ve been at peace for so long, everyone has forgotten what conflict looks like. I fear the day the Mother decides to end our existence. A plague upon this world, is what we are. And how do plagues die?” he finally looked at her, as though expecting her to know the answer to his insane ramblings.

She stared back blankly.

“Stagnancy. The complacency to never adapt and evolve. One day…the cure is going to catch up. Let’s hope we aren’t alive to see it.” For a short time, he just gave her a look, and the weight of it held her in place, unsure what to do.

“I have one question for you, girl. If you lie, I’ll know.” He whispered, leaning down to eye level, gaze never leaving her own.

Iris could hear her own heartbeat, the silence so deafening.

“Did you or did you not steal that brooch?” He asked, his voice quiet, but also threatening in tone.

Her eyes narrowed, frustration clear, “How many times do I have to tell you? No, no, and no.”

Some of the tension left Aerowyn’s frame at the statement, a sigh escaping his lips. “You make this so difficult for me.”

“Wha–”

His arm blurring, Iris had no time to react as his enhanced speed brought his flat hand around to her nape, the force and location of the blow short-circuiting her brain, forcing her unconscious.