I watched over them, of course. I couldn’t just let them run around without any oversight whatsoever, healing people willy-nilly. And besides, if Alena were going to fail in a shift, it was most likely that it’d be at the beginning of their escapade.

Nothing went wrong, which is what I truly expected. Alena, while not as advanced as she certainly could be with her academic understanding of the body along with her instincts, was good enough to be capable of shifting such mundane illnesses.

There were some more gruesome injuries, old wounds that had never healed correctly, infections that threatened lives. All of them were easily wiped out my Alena, though the task was draining for her. She didn’t have the nigh infinite energy that I possessed or the might that Rethi could call upon.

I didn’t stay for too much longer, watching them as they healed the last of those who had shown themselves and quickly disappearing into the maze of dingy alleys, away from any attention they might’ve been drawing.

Sure enough, as I casually galivanted over the rooftops, I saw a group of dubious men trying to move down the alleys ‘stealthily’. Really, they were just about as clear as day, but the humans below were certainly not intending to do anything nice as they bustled down the empty streets. Rethi would slaughter them easily, but it was a good example of the powers that be within the city.

The gangs were violent and controlling and having someone going around and spreading any hope to the populace was a major concern. I have no doubt that Rethi and Alena would find it harder and harder to allude them as they continued to do their work.

They would find a way, however. I had no doubt for that.

I made my way back towards the Skinned Lizard to see if my little social quarry had paid off, locating, and then entering the building with swift ease. I gave a conciliatory nod to Gehne as she watched me pass through, her eyes following me with a slight apprehension while I sat back down at the table I always sat at.

I let Gehne watch me, not bothering to catch her out in the act. She’d been friendly for a good while, before the Skinned Lizard learned more about me and what I planned. Now she was a little cold, wary, and quiet. She was defensive around me or my companions, flighty and ready to flee at a moment’s notice. I guess it was different when we were just exceptionally strange customers, rather than a group interested in plotting to usurp Crossroads’ power structure.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t here today for Gehne, though I would have to do something about that at some point. I needed as many competent people on our side as possible, and I knew that Gehne was one of those people I needed. She might not seem like it, but the gentle presence of her emotions as she climbed the walls of the surrounding buildings and disappeared each night was enough to tell me that she was… skilled.

Her time would come soon enough, but for now it was someone else’s turn.

A familiar form practically burst through the door of the inn, drawing the eye of the few patrons that were relaxing between the morning and the lunchtime rush. The woman righted herself, pulling back on the speed that she’d used to enter and letting their attentions wander back to their food and quiet conversation.

Of course, the woman made a beeline for me as soon as she felt was safe, her large eyes shifting nervously as she approached the table and, without sitting, placed her hand against the table. The gentle light that bled in from the windows at the storefront, only just making its way far enough through the room to make it a few steps above dim.

The woman was Glerr, the mother of Jovum. Judging by the hand that was placed on the table, and the nervous glance that she gave me, flicking between the hand and my own eyes, told me all I needed to know.

“Sir, I insist that you–” I rose an eyebrow sharply, letting a grin come to my face.

“How about we talk about this on a walk. Nothing like a bit of fresh air.” I was lying, obviously. I couldn’t care less about getting fresh air, but it’s what the situation calls for, thus it shall be done.

I stood from my spot at the table, beginning my walk out of the building only a few minutes after I’d entered. The Gek woman scrabbled to follow, shyly passing through the tables to try and match my pace as I made my way into the streets outside and began to walk with slower strides.

The scuffing of shoes followed as the woman caught up quickly, though she didn’t say anything until they were out of earshot from any obvious listeners. Her voice came out in a frantic hiss, a harsh tone that I’d never heard from a Reptilia before, though it didn’t surprise me that they could do it.

“Sir!” She rasped out, trying to restrain the volume of her voice, “I can’t take this money, this is insanity!” Glerr held out a hand, pushing it into my side as we walked forward, though I pretended to not notice the very demanding action. I turned to her, maintaining the same expression I’d given her when she’d approached my table.

“I’ll have to disregard that demand, Miss Glerr.” I said with a small amount of cheeky pomp, “That prize is yours, and is also your son’s. I can’t exactly take it back now, can I?”

The cheekiness made the woman actually growl, another emotion I hadn’t seen on a Reptilia yet. She pulled back her closed fist slightly, then pushing forward into my side much harder than her slight frame would suggest she was capable of. Of course, I didn’t move an inch, and even she seemed a little surprised with that.

“I’m afraid that you cannot physically accost me into allowing you to return that money to my hands. A promise is a promise, and you get to keep it.” I said, letting my voice draw into a more serious tone. Turning to look ever so slightly at the woman who seemed so uncomfortable with the money I’d given her.

“You made no promise!” She countered with a fiery expression, something that showed well surprisingly well on her features. Internally, there was a mix of emotions that you’d find with something as complex an emotional situation as being given a lot of money is.

“I implied one, and an implied promise is just as much a promise as one explicitly stated.” I shrugged with my oversimplification. Honestly, I didn’t really believe that myself, and her gaze said that she didn’t either, but it worked for now.

“A promise doesn’t usually include more money than I’ve ever seen in one coin.” She hissed lowly, though she was losing the ability to keep her voice low. I laughed warmly at her distress, knowing the ridiculous wealth that we owned, and knowing that it wasn’t even close to what we could really do.

“I assure you, while it might be a significant sum to you, it really isn’t much of a burden to me.” I waited a moment, glancing to the conflicted woman, “Trust me.”

Trust, apparently, was a hard thing to come by in Glerr’s world. Shame, fear, anger, and most hidden of all, hope burned in her chest. It was a cacophony of emotion, just as real and as visceral as all the others that surrounded me, though certainly more prominent at this very second.

“I don’t understand.” She said again, her voice finding a quieter tone, though with more anger in it than the frustrated frenzy it displayed before, “What do you want from me, from my son?” She was on the defensive now, unable to blast through the falsehoods that she so strongly believed lingered around me, waiting to spring from the shadows and rip away the hope that was stubbornly refusing to leave her chest.

“Nothing special.” I said lackadaisically, “In fact, I barely even think it’d be much of a task at all.” The words, while completely casual and not at all implicative of anything, made Glerr freeze in fear. Hope draining from her chest at a rapid pace.

I’m not sure that I enjoyed doing this sort of thing, especially when I knew exactly how they were feeling, but it was necessary, regardless of how manipulative it was. It was in the nature of my powers, my Divinity, to do things like this; to slowly manoeuvre the situation into something that most benefitted me and my interests.

She feared my next words, the ones that would seal her fate to whatever I wanted. Of course, it wasn’t nearly so dastardly.

“I wonder if you know someone that I’m looking for.” I said casually, scratching against my chin in thought, “She’s a Gek woman, likely around your own age. I believe she may even have children around the age of your own, though I couldn’t say.”

The stark difference between what Glerr had been expecting, and what I’d just given her, had been astronomical. I could feel the overwhelming sense of confusion, with a mounting wave of relief as she realised that none of her fears were at all reality.

“I, uh, I couldn’t say, sir.” She responded hastily as we walked, “There are quite a few of us, after all. Do you have a name?” She was moving along that line of questioning as fast as possible, desperately hoping that I wouldn’t add more to the ‘task’.

“Oh yes,” I thought on the name for a moment, though I already had it in mind, forcing her anxious haste to a standstill, “Lauka is her name, I believe.”

“Muuuum!” A little voice called out from the other room, drawing it out into a high note as two pairs of stomping feet tumbled across the rickety wooden flooring of their small apartment. Well, small in the grander scheme of things. Shed’s gang, while immoral, does tend to pay well even for the menial work she does do for them.

The apartment was still a dump, however. It had a kitchen, and just enough space for four people to live in somewhat comfortably, but nothing as comfortable as she sometimes dreamed of. She turned around from the stove as she made an early lunch, shooting the two children a dirty glance as they ran into the kitchen.

“No running in the kitchen, Mica, Yara! How many times do I need to tell you?” She chastised, though the two little Gek children, both having taken the brighter red of their father’s skin, only slowed a little while they giggled and panted from the romping around they’d been doing in the other room for the past half hour.

“I won!” Mica said proudly, eyes wide with confidence, though his brother pushed him gently at his shoulder.

“No, stupid, I won!” Yara said roughly, always the brusquer of the two.

“Yara! Don’t call your brother stupid. Mica, I could hear you whining when you lost.” Both boys wilted a little but bounced back with just as much drive as ever, always with a competition. She sighed, quickly doling out the portions of the stew she had made, a simple thing with as little meat as she could justify.

The competition between the two was almost always over the limited supply of food, and the winner always got the larger portion. It always came down to the wire, which had amused her on more occasions than she’d like to admit.

“Yara,” she said as she held out a simple bowl, about two thirds full, and then giving the other to Mica, who pouted that his cunning ruse hadn’t worked despite her calling it out. Mica’s bowl was only slightly less full, but most of that volume was in the meat that she gave to the winner, the agreed upon prize between the two boys.

It was heartbreaking at first, to see the two children battle it out over food, but it’d become just another part of life, knowing that she couldn’t provide them a full stomach unless they wanted to live further into the district, where things began to become significantly more dangerous.

The two boys carefully walked over to a ramshackle table and placed the bowls on its surface, before delicately beginning to eat with their supplied spoons. It was somewhat hilarious how much her boys calmed down as they ate, savouring each and every bite that they took, no matter how awful the food she had managed to procure might be.

She was just about to serve herself up her own bowl when there was a sharp knock at the door, though not commanding or as overbearing as you might expect from the guard. She and the two boys looked between one another, going completely still before deciding to not open the door in fear that it might be an… unwelcome guest.

But they weren’t given that chance.

“I’m afraid I know that you are in there, Lauka.” A voice called out from the other side of the door, only metres away from where she stood. It wasn’t just any voice either. She swallowed painfully before rushing over to the door and pulling it open with a creak.

“What are you doing here!” She hissed at the tall man that stood beyond the barrier of her home, though he didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest, only grinning brightly.

“Ah! Good…” the man frowned slightly as he weighed his vocabularic options, “late morning to you, Lauka. I’m afraid I’ve come to speak on something of great importance!” He decreed gleefully, though after a moment, he sniffed politely, and peaked an eyebrow at her.

“That wouldn’t happen to be stew I smell, would it?”