Lily found herself pressed up against wrought iron railings.
The pull from the hands had nearly thrown her off the Juliette balcony she
found herself upon. She looked down at the network of walkways below her; at
the living scurrying about. They were well dressed, although the way they held
themselves and spoke to each other betrayed their roots. Sellers argued in
front of customers, children thieved their pockets while their marks were
distracted. It had all the hallmarks of the lower district of the merchant
levels. A place she had only been once, and only just escaped with the cloak on
her back. She looked up towards the railings and saw a wax sealed missive as
well as a small sack. The seal had the familiar beetle shape imprinted on dark
red wax. She quickly read the note, being careful not to fracture the wax seal.
Before she could fully comprehend the note, Eryn and Chloe had finally worked
up the courage to pass through the wall of hands. They too pressed up against
the iron railings, with Lily in between.
The note nearly fluttered down to the floors below but with a quick
second grasp, she hid it on her person before the others noticed.
Lily couldn’t tell whether Eryn was scared, in shock or
confused when she turned around. All three emotions seemed to dance behind his bewildered
expression. Chloe only admired the view for a few seconds before she decided
she had to leave. There were flashes in her memory, an outstretched hand
reaching for crystal eggs, the throbbing of clear bubbling blood. Dry heat and three
dull points, from something smooth, warm and vibrating. She felt them try to
penetrate her forehead, her temple and just above her jawbone, simultaneously,
on the right hand side of her face. She nearly screamed but remarkably kept
herself under control. Chloe told them she would find them later, but she had
to go, right that second and she did just that. She opened the double doors
into the Broken Vow Inn and down onto the walkway below. Eryn was stunned. He
watched as she disappeared into the crowds below them. He then looked down at
his manacled wrist. He hoped the distance between the two bracelets wouldn’t
harm him, or kill him. If this wasn’t the outcome, then he hoped that she
didn’t get into any harm, or died through other means, as perhaps the device
would transfer that state to him. A fact that made him entirely forget that
Lily was right next to him. When he focused again Lily had presented the note
she had found quite violently, in front of his face.
The note referred to a man by the name of Zivans Cairnin and
what she presumed to be an eating establishment for servants of lords;
Seneschal’s. Although Eryn did not know of Seneschal’s, the name of the man
piqued his interest. From the fractured memory that was his halted execution,
it held one name. The Keeper of the Glaives Cairnin. There was anger and
resentment that tinged the memory. He was Eryn’s failed executioner, who was one
supplication away from severing Eryn's head from his body. He shuddered,
remembering the serpentine voice and its cold, wet grasp. He again was lost in
thought and so too lost Lily. In his absent minded nodding, he had agreed to
something but before he could question, the only thing that remained of Lily
was back of her head and her wiry black hair.
He tried to keep up with her, pushing his way through the
crowds. One by one, each woman with black hair in front and one gentleman were
embarrassingly removed from the hunt by each mistake. The Broken Vow was far
behind him. The foundations, although encrusted with dirt and decay, were easy
to navigate, fewer walkways and a lot less people. He was fighting against the
afternoon rush. Merchants yelled over the noise of bands and out of tune
instruments. Banners reached ever higher. He was being crushed by the waves of
people. He needed to escape, he needed air. One well timed dodge and he was out
from the stream. In front of him, a man lit up a cigarette at simple wooden
table next to open door, his greying beard reaching down to his lap. Eryn
patted himself down , only now realising that he was out. He remembered the
last smoke had been in caverns below the city. Tentatively, he introduced
himself. The old man rubbed his eyes, stroked his beard and yawned and welcomed
Eryn to the Roost. One of many communal buildings run by the Hawk-Eyes. The man
gestured to the advertisements behind him. Deftly painted, the posters
spotlighted each individual member and their strength. Gruesome creatures and
slain monsters lay around each person. A testament to their conquest and
hunting prowess. Eryn tried to bluff his way through, building up a rapport
with the man; culminating in that cigarette he now so deeply desired. One puff
and he felt the tension in his body relax a little. He asked the old man about
a woman with black hair, completion marred by soil and a cold stare. He
mentioned that he had seen a woman, perhaps fitting that description walk in
but he hadn't really been looking. For Eryn that was good enough, excused his
leaving and walked inside.
It was surprisingly spacious. The windows were only barred,
rather than glassed and so unadulterated light poured in from the three sides.
By one a class of school girls, were listening patiently to a older man. He
dressed in plain attire, spattered in ink and paint and hastily repaired
spectacles. He was the oldest in the room, and probably the best person to talk
to. Eryn’s approached was soon blocked. The girls all turned around, after one
had gasped at the sight of him. They flocked around him, asking him for
stories, tales of daring. One or two even offered their paintings as a canvas
for a signature. The teacher moved the girls to the side and back to their paintings.
Eryn had noticed that these paintings were similar to the ones outside,
although definitely done by a child’s hand. These paintings were not of the
great Hawk-Eye hunters, no, these paintings were of himself. One or two with his foot on top of a man's
severed head. The teacher introduced himself as Arden. He seemed in even more
awe than the girls. Eryn, wholly confused, asked Arden about why he was being
painted; had they met in Qi years ago and he had forgotten? Arden tried to lay
Eryn’s fears to rest.
He excitedly explained that after a visit to the city of Qi,
he had been told of a famous hero, who had slain one of the sons of Deitha
Marish and freed the city, at least for a time, from the Marish Clan. Eryn
asked when this happened. Surprised, Arden replied only about thirty to forty solar
days ago. Eryn knew full well he had been incarcerated during that time but how
to tell the man? He was already showing Eryn prototypes he had made of his
likeness in the style of the Hawk-Eyes. Although Eryn appreciated this, he
could not lay claim to the honour, even if he could. It was against everything
he had been taught as a child. Arden after the revelation, slumped into an nearby
chair. He held back the tears while he rubbed his forehead. He then suddenly
burst into tears. Through the sobs and constant apologies, he mentioned that he
had told anyone and everyone who asked about Eryn. He had even instilled his
heroism into the children he taught. Arden realised he had become smitten with
the idea of the man, not the reality and suddenly a grim realisation flashed
into his mind. He again apologised, far slower than previous. This time,
however, for recommending his application to the Hawk-Eyes. Arden had not
expected Eryn to come to the city, he was only meant to know of this via a message.
The man's intent was clear to Eryn, he
did not want to cause trouble, only to honour him. He tried to console the man,
although the bubble had been burst and the man drifted off back to work, asking
his class to bring out new canvases. Eryn now had only one option left. He bade
his farewells and left without looking into the eyes of anyone he passed. His
only hope now, that this wouldn't bring attention to him.
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