Chapter 19

Layers of asphalt, solid yet soft, paved the roads that traversed through the metropolis. Mighty titans of glass and metal, stern and unyielding, overlooked the oblivious pedestrians that strolled below. Though the gaps between the buildings proved to be broad, it was not spacious. The crowd flooded every cavity, like liquid in a bottle, brushing past each other at the slightest hints of movement. Guards of uniform, situated within their posts, were ready to pounce at the slenderest proposition of a crime. Inhabiting this haven, the citizens feared not the outside nor its dreadful menaces, for they were cradled by a mighty wall that stood thirty feet tall. Even the suggestion of peril could not befall the residents. Patrols populated the walls, leaving nothing to neglect. If even the faintest of cracks were found, then the faintest of cracks would be found no more. What impressed was not only what existed in this city, but also what didn’t. The ground, if not clean, was cleared of shadows. Large, small, circular, cylindrical, and countless other adjectives described the varied lights dispelling the prevalent darkness. Oversized and multi-colored neon signs attached to the sides of the colossal structures reflected off the slightly damp ground. Spotlights beamed unceasingly as they intruded upon the empty skies. There was a reason this place was dubbed the ‘City of Lights’, for Luminus, both metaphorical and literal, remained a beacon in the vast ocean that was the eternal night.

Arms stretched, Emma yawned, for the prior hours of briefings tired her while the need to maintain an image exhausted her. Now, she was freed from the ropes that had tied her hands. Draped by a cloak that concealed her weapons and armor, her status and reputation were no longer of a hindrance. Here, she was permitted to let loose. Excitingly, the woman surveyed the area, searching for a place to splurge. Although she had been here many times before, this was the first time she retained full autonomy.

In-between the many skyscrapers that littered throughout city sat the booths and shops who maximized their capacity. Mixed scents filled the cold air, inciting more hunger the longer she sniffed.

Spotting something in particular, Emma’s grin widened. She pushed through the crowd in an attempt to reach her destination. Along the way, she was constantly pestered by the living advertisements that craved for attention.

“Hey, lady!” One of them screamed, “You seem new, how ‘bout a tour of the area?”

“Cheap and strong alcohol!” Another shouted, “Lookin’ for a great time?! Come ‘ere to the Blackout Inn!”

“Tired of the same old roasted roaches? Try Aunt Betsy’s pickled roaches! It’s a taste you ain’t never goin’ forget!”

Ignoring the businesses that contested for customers, she reached a small but busy stall.

“Oi, missy, what fancies ya?”

Briefly browsing the menu, she found an item that attained her interests.

“Hmm.’” Emma hesitated for a moment. “Give me the ‘Leg O’ Meat’ and make it extra spicy.”

“That ain’t meant for one, lady. Stuff can get real heavy.”

“Are you selling me food or are you giving me life advice?”

“HA! This one’s got some spunk. Don’ say I ain’t warn ya.”

The man brought out a large leg of meat. Using a sauce-drenched brush, he glazed its surface and then proceeded to roast it over the charcoal-fueled grill, all the while sprinkling chili powder. The heavenly aroma seized the air, and not a single living being could refrain from licking their lips.

“How much?”

“The meat will cost ya ten lunari.”

“Eh? That’s really pricey. Can’t you give me a discount?”

“I ain’t no charity, lady. You either pay up or you not gettin’ no meat.”

Disgruntled, Emma forked over the money.

After retrieving his earnings and handing the woman the leg of meat, the man leaned in closer.

“A little advice for ya, missy, on the house. You wan’ to haggle? You gotta put some back into it. Next!”

“Oi! Give me the usual.” An old man at the stall yelled.

“You gon’ give me the money first. Ten lunari.”

“I ain’t payin’ no ten lunari! Old Betsy’s pickled roaches sound pretty good ‘bout now. I’ll go see if she’s sellin’.” As the old man began walking away, the shopkeeper conceded.

“Aye, Aye, eight is as low as I’ll go.”

Immediately after paying his due, the old man snatched the leg of meat out of the chef’s hand and took a bite.

“How’s the food, ya cheap bastard?”

“My dead ma’s shit tastes better than this.”

“Ain’t that why ya full ‘o shit?” Both of the men laughed in unison despite the hostile insults that were thrown at each other.

The anguish of a failed bargain disappointed her, however, the sight of the rowdy streets cheered her up.

Emma continued browsing the surrounding shops. Not wanting to dirty her robe, she removed her hood before indulging on the morsel. It was everything she had hoped for and more. The seared and seasoned skin crunched with every bite as the tender flesh below leaked succulent juices. The blend of seasoning and spices stimulated her tongue, nearly overloading her senses. One chomp after another, she gobbled until only the bone was left. Joyously, she sucked her fingers until they were completely rid of the luscious liquid.

“Anna?” A nearby voice called. “ANNA?!” The sound came closer.

Curious toward the cause of the commotion, Emma turned to face the encroaching figure. A woman who seemed slightly older pushed through the crowd. She wore a boyish cut with streaks of white that could be found in her curly hair.

“It’s really you!” Tear droplets leaked from her eyes. “I thought you were fucking dead. Where have you been all these fucking years?!” She grabbed Emma’s still greasy hands.

“…” Emma didn’t respond, for she was confused and lost. Searching through her memories, nothing pertaining to the woman infront of her could be found.

“What’s wrong? Did you forget who I am?” The woman questioned as she saw Emma’s disoriented expression. “It’s me, Hailey! Don’t tell me you fucking forgot.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“My God!” Another individual appeared, trembling whilst speaking. “Thank the Ancients, it’s really you! Anna!”

The man tightly embraced the dazed Emma, sniffling ever so slightly.

“Don’t you remember me?! You can’t possibly have forgotten!” Emma gazed at the man’s eager eyes and felt apologetic for what she was about to say.

“I’m sorry but… I can’t recall.”

...

Hints of rich coffee overwhelmed the fragrance of floral splendor serving as décor while the sound of brewing liquid resonated in the background.

Tinted glass and chandelier lights intertwined with the soft songs of the piano to create a soothing atmosphere that seemed out of place in this spoiling world. Waxed wood of dark brown pigment served as the tables and seats of this unique establishment. The abundance of vintage paintings that shrouded the Victorian styled walls flaunted the riches of utilized creativity in its most prestigious form.

Here, Emma caught up with the acquaintances of her past. The three spoke of many things, but nothing of much importance so far. She learned of Stephan’s accomplishments, of the Council, and of the Confederation.

“That’s quite the feat! To organize and establish a coalition within the outskirt towns. From what I’ve heard, your people are doing well.” With genuine admiration, Emma complimented.

“Thank you, your words are too kind.” Stephan emitted a natural smile. “There is still much to do and so little time to do it.”

“I’m telling you, Stephan,” Hailey interjected. “You need to rest once in awhile, it can’t be healthy to overwork yourself like this.”

“I’m fine, Hailey. I can’t rest until the surrounding ruins become a safer place.”

The bags under the man’s eyes were clearly visible, but Emma felt it would be rude to comment on them.

“Your actions are extremely commendable. Do you mind if I ask what’s pushing you this far?”

The mood suddenly changed, the worn-out smile shifted to a gloomy frown.

“I… I made a promise to someone.” Stephan’s eyes tilted downwards as if to avoid Emma’s.

“Then, that person must be very important to you.”

“She was… But she probably despised me…” The man’s expression grew ever more woeful.

“How so? Does she know what you’ve done?”

“I’m… I’m sure she knows very well.” He tightened his fists while his soul filled with bitterness.

“Fuck, Anna. Do you really not remember anything? Not even…” Hailey held onto Emma’s hands, troubled and forlorn, she failed to continue her question.

“I apologize, but I cannot remember anything prior to ten years ago.”

What Emma had said was not entirely true as very faint and fragmented snippets lingered in the back of her mind. Memories so muddied and feeble, she could not tell whether it was truly a piece of her past or a false splinter she had simply dreamt.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Emma wanted to clear the ambiguity that shaved away at her sanity. Until now, she lacked a method of discovering her past. Now that an opportunity had presented itself, she refused to let it go to waste. “Were you... my husband?”

After hearing Emma’s question, both Stephan and Hailey fell into a state of shock. Seeing this, she further elaborated.

“It’s just that your name seems familiar and you seem very close to me. Also, I would always see this man in my dreams…”

“Pfff-pffffttttHAHAHAHHAA!” Hailey busted into laughter, barely able to contain herself as she pounded the table. “Emma! Stephan is your-”

“Friend,” Stephan interrupted. “I was a close friend of yours.”

The woman’s laughter dulled and was instead replaced with confusion.

“Is that so…?” Emma contemplated. She couldn’t remember exactly what the names within her dreams were. ‘Stephan’ felt familiar, so she had to be sure.

“Then… Did I have anyone like that, a family?”

The man briefly remained quiet before answering her question.

“No,” he paused. “You would always complain to me that you couldn’t find a man good enough. Told me that you never felt that spark.”

Then it really was just a dream. Emma thought with great disappointment. All the warmth and joy she thought she had experienced and enjoyed, even sometimes yearned for, were a false fabrication.

Hailey sat on the sidelines, not speaking nor smiling, just silent.

“Oh!” Emma spoke suddenly, breaking the awkwardness as she remembered that she was not sent here on vacation. “I must take my leave, I apologize for taking up your time.” Dashing out of the café, she glanced back at the table to find the two to still be silent. Emma felt guilty, believing that she must have uncovered the past that the two wanted to bury. However, it was too late to do anything about it, thus she just ran to her appointment.

…

Back at the café, Stephan and Hailey sat quietly, occasionally sipping their drinks and munching on the snacks they had ordered.

Hailey was the first to speak.

“Why did you…?”

“Lie to her?” Stephan took another sip. “She didn’t need to know.”

“SHE DESERVED TO KNOW!” Hailey smashed her fist against the table, creating a disturbance that drew the attention of the other visitors.

“To know what?! That her husband is dead?! That her daughter soon followed?! That Anya’s final moments were of her starving alone in the dark?! Or that their bodies were picked clean to the point where even identifying them was impossible?! TELL ME, WHAT SHOULD I HAVE TOLD HER?!”

Having never seen Stephan lose his composure before, Hailey was taken aback. Witnessing the look in her eyes, Stephan quickly apologized.

“I-I’m sorry… I let emotions get ahold of me.”

“Why did you lie about your relationship to her?”

Even with his cup completely empty, the man still held it to his mouth. He gazed at the door through which his beloved sister hurriedly left.

“Do you believe… that I’m still deserving?”

Hailey did not respond, for she herself did not know.

Seeing the unpaid bill left behind beside Emma’s empty cup and plate, Stephan released a fleeting chuckle.

“She hasn’t changed.”

***

Crap! I forgot to pay!

In a scurry to meet with the city heads before their office closed, she had forgotten to leave behind money for her portion of the order. Unable to do anything else at this point, she promised herself that she would pay Stephan and Hailey back the next time they met.

Approaching the city hall, the ambiance changed. Inhabitants still roamed the streets and the towering skyscrapers still surrounded her, however, everything appeared to be highly maintained. All the tiny and barely noticeable defects, as well as the large neon signs visible in the other district, were nonexistent here. Standing around were men and women of formal attire, chatting casually with one another. This was the district of the bourgeoisie.

Near its epicenter, erected a building not of blue glass and steel, but of solid white marble. Only three stories tall, it was completely overshadowed by the constructs around it, yet its design distinguished itself as a beauty of a different form. Surrounding it was a carved stone and metal fence with several guards stationed at the gate.

“Stop right there!” one guard demanded upon seeing her. “Audience with the head merchant families are by appointments only.”

“I am Paladin Emma of the Order of the Bladed Shield. Your employers should be expecting me.”

Extracting a rectangular device from his pocket, the guard pressed a button on the side and spoke into it.

“Guardsman to the front desk. A woman wishes to meet the heads of the merchant families, is there an appointment for a ‘Paladin Emma,’ over?”

A response shortly followed.

“Let her in, over.”

Stepping aside, the guardsman directed Emma toward the main entrance. Entering the building, she was first greeted by a well-dressed woman behind a massive antique desk.

“Paladin Emma, I presume?” the well-dressed woman inquired.

“Yes,” Emma responded.

“Third floor, office 305.”

“Thank you.” Emma hastily rushed off.

...

Entering the grandiose double door, a single suited man sat behind a large black desk. Clean shaven and with combed white hair, Emma could tell that the elderly figure was someone of a high position. He busied himself with stacks of paperwork that piled left and right. A small but bright lamp lit up his workspace.

“You’re late.” He said, still focused on the forums in front of him. “Is this a custom among your people?”

“I apologize, for I had trouble finding this place.”

The man gave a condescending snort and then returned to writing. To fill the discomforting silence, Emma decided to introduce herself.

“I am Pa-”

“I know who you are,” he interposed. “Save your self-promotion for someone else.”

“Is that so,” she stated. The guardsman mentioned ‘the merchant families,’ however, only one man was present, prompting her to question the situation. “I was under the impression that I would be meeting with multiple individuals.”

“Well, you were wrong.” His hostile glare met Emma. “I thought the Order sent me someone capable, not some fool who can’t hold her tongue.”

Veiling her displeasure with the man’s insults, she continued on with the conversation.

“Then, what do you require of me?”

After placing his pen in its stand, he clamped his hands together before his face.

“I need you to retrieve something for me. One of my employees will lead you to the location.” The man paused for a moment. “Oh, and this time, try not to get lost again.”