Chloe had no real idea where she was going. Since her incarceration the city had changed.
Even more so since she was only a child when she was arrested. The intense feelings, the vibrations, the
heat, the pressure, they felt as if they would envelope her. She wildly looked
around for any semblance of familiarity. Men towered over her, some with
leering gestures. Others just barged her out the way, her small stature barely
noticeable. She felt crushed, frightened and distraught. Every face she turned
to seemed contorted and twisted. Their visages changing from human to monstrous
to mechanical. She needed comfort, warmth, familiarity. Seneschals’. She had
only been there twice as a young girl. Her extended family had kept her at arm's
length, so it fell to her handmaiden to keep her occupied and out of her home
city. Auspar had been chosen by her servant due to its notoriety of people
disappearing into crowds and never to be seen, or arrested again. On the last
visit to Seneschal’s she remembered ordering something called 'Squirrel Soup'.
The thought made her hungry, which overrode her fear. She was able to pick out
two or three familiar landmarks and made her way up to floor seven, and to the
place in her memory.
It hadn't changed
that much. The room was packed full over lower class servants, while a few
booths next to the kitchen were reserved for the more senior servants. It was
bright and sparkling full of chatter. The familiar curtains, tablecloths and
paintings were there, although now faded. Even the waiter, although not a young
man when she had been imprisoned , seemed much older. Time had moved on. Relics
of the past were just that, venerated, but left to gather dust. The waiter she
remembered shuffled over to her. His hand poised to take an order, yet his
shaking seemingly making the task much more difficult. She weakly smiled. His
words were carried by horse breathing. Every word punctuated by senility. She gently
asked for a bowl Squirrel Soup. The man nodded, his thin grey comb over
flopping back to one side and went to the kitchen.
On his return he
seemed a little confused. He remarked that he had never heard of it, to which
Chloe’s heart sank. He did offer however, for his sous-chef to talk to her. Perhaps
she could explain it to him. She agreed, although not remembering herself what
the soup really was or if it even existed. After another brief disappearance he
returned followed by what looked like a die-cast automaton. His body was
protected by glimmering black synth armour, wires lights and pipes trailed
across the surface, antennas sprang up and sank while thumb sized transmission dishes
beeped and twirled. His helmet did not resemble a human either, it was flatter
at the front, almost box shape from the nose down with a ventilation grill. His
eyes were nothing but lopsided triangles, dark red, with black octagonal grid
lines. Chloe nearly ran. She had expected a human, or at least something
similar. The waiter apologised after noting her reaction. He tried to calm her
fears while she clawed the edge of her seat. His chef was called Kal. A human
from the Beyond, learning about humanity as he was raised nearly entirely by automatons.
She did not care for his history, or the explanation for the way he looked. Her
stomach was in knots. The waiter urged Kal to sit with her so she could explain the dish. He did, much to
the whimpering protests by Chloe. The waiter brought over some bread and mulled
wine. Chloe was thankful for the food, at least this was an excuse not to pay.
As she became accustomed Kal she relaxed a little, only just and even on some
level enjoying the change of company.
***
A few spires away Lily was trying to ascertain any
information about her new mark. She quietly stalked the arena area on level
seven. Below the stands, an un-armoured Grapnel
was practicing with his sword and shield. He was being watched by two
old women while they ate a small picnic. Lily tried to get as close to them as
possible. They were chatting about the day’s execution for the Ritual of Causality.
They gossiped about how the Keeper of the Glaives hadn’t presided over the last couple of days,
after the two prisoners had been pardoned without his consultation. One of the
women complimented the other on her accuracy of her throw that day. All manner
of fruit and vegetable had apparently been thrown at Zivians after he had
introduced the band, and her aim nearly landed by his feet. The crowd had blamed
him for the failed execution, they blamed him for the princess not returning,
and he in turn blamed himself. They also remarked about the rumours of him
visiting a man from beyond the steadfast soon after. Perhaps for information,
or perhaps he had something to cure his blame not found in the stead.
The discussions of outsiders then turned to Kal. They both
saw him as a child in a manner of speaking, even though he was a fully grown
man. He did not know the ways of the steadfast, in fact he knew hardly anything
about humanity. This was his most endearing trait. The locals in the area were
trying to teach him their ways, regardless of his intimidating appearance. To
Lily this was perhaps the only link to Zivans and so had to be followed up. They
had mentioned the place he was working, and perhaps they might take their
dinner there later that evening. With those words she slunk away into the shadows, although with no
real direction to head in.
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