Emren

By the time Emren finished talking with Taliyah, his arm had started aching once again. The salve that the healer had used to dull the pain had worn off, and his arm was now throbbing with every footstep.

Emren did his best to ignore the pain as he walked through a crowd, moving away from the building where he had spoken to Taliyah. There were things to do, and he didn’t want the injury to keep him from accomplishing them.

He made his way back to the southern quarter of the city. It was where the soul-sworn had decided to set up.

That didn’t surprise Emren. The southern quarter was basically a slum, and home to most of the underhanded dealings in Spectralia.

The further Emren moved southward, the more pronounced the disrepair and poverty of the surrounding area. Soon, piles of refuse were a common sight in the streets, and Emren caught sight of several rats moving through the piles looking for scraps of food.

This was the second time he was seeing these same piles of filth today. He was actually close to the place where he had started following the shapers that morning.

Did that really happen this morning? Emren thought, it’s amazing how much can change in a single day. As soon as the notion went through his head, Emren was brought back to a day two weeks before, when everything had changed. That horrible day of red and blue.

Once again, his hand had moved to the necklace, and he didn’t stop himself from grabbing it this time. The anguish flooded into him and he embraced it.

While he held the small charm in his hand, everything seemed to fade away. The voices of the people in the crowd that surrounded him, the buildings that lined the road to each side, and the smells that wafted from street vendor’s carts.

The emotion overwhelmed everything, and he was left with his grief. Soon, a second emotion started to build up within him. It was the hatred he felt for the people who had destroyed his life. He would kill them. He would end th-

Something broke through his feelings for just a moment, and Emren let go of the necklace. Looking around for what had snapped him out of his trance, he saw a small boy sitting down right next to where he had stopped. The boy had spoken to him.

The boy was obviously a beggar who had been living on the streets. He can’t be more than fifteen years old, Emren thought. The beggar had a hopeful look on his face, and Emren realized that the child probably thought he had stopped to give him a coin.

When the boy saw Emren looking down at him, he made an obvious effort to look pitiful before speaking.

“Please, sir, could you spare a coin?”

Emren’s heart broke at the sight. Beggars weren’t uncommon in this part of the city, but seeing such a small boy trying to make a living on the streets was wrong. The boy's parents had likely died in the plague, leaving him as an orphan with nothing, and nobody.

Emren knelt down beside the beggar, but the boy shied away.

“It’s alright,” Emren said, “What’s your name, boy?”

The beggar boy looked uncomfortable at the question, but he eventually managed to squeak out a response.

“Shar, sir.”

“Well, Shar, do you know other children like you living on the streets?”

Shar didn’t speak, and he looked even more uncomfortable now. He fidgeted and his eyes started darting to the sides, likely looking for ways to escape.

Emren sighed, but subtly brought out a small bag of coins and placed it in Shar’s hand, making certain that no one would notice. He didn’t want anyone coming after the boy because of what Emren had given him.

Shar’s eyes widened in surprise, and he tried to retract his hand with the pouch, but Emren grabbed his wrist, speaking quietly to him.

“If you take these coins, you must promise me to give at least a few to other children on the streets.”

Shar gulped, but still didn’t say anything.

“Promise me.” Emren said, fixing the boy with a stern expression.

Shar just stared at Emren, not seeming to comprehend.

“Promise me.” Emren repeated.

“I promise.” Shar said, finally finding his voice.

With that, Emren stood up and walked away, taking long strides further south into the city. He didn’t know if the boy would really share what he had been given, but Emren hoped that he would.

As Emren took the first few steps away from the boy, the hint of a smile appeared on his lips for the first time in two weeks. Giving Shar those coins had awakened something in him. Something that he thought had died.

The pouch of coins wouldn’t mean much to most of the inhabitants of Spectralia, but it was likely more money the Shar had ever held in his life. The temptation to keep the coins would certainly be great, but Emren was certain there were plenty of other boys and girls that were living the same desperate life.

There were far too many children on the streets. The city tried to care for them, but it was still recovering from the devastation that the plague had wrecked on the population.

This southern quarter of Spectralia had been hit especially hard, and signs of it could be seen everywhere he looked. Polished shopfronts had been replaced by seedy stalls, fragrant smells of the vendor’s carts had been replaced by the odor of garbage and excrement, and cheerful faces had been replaced by hostile and gaunt expressions.

The smile didn’t last long. It disappeared quickly as Emren moved further into the southern quarter of the city and the signs of deterioration increased.

All Emren could do was shake his head at the sight. The southern quarter of the city had never been as prosperous as the other quarters, but now it had become barely a shadow of its former self, haunted by its residents.

Indeed, the people in Spectralia were starting to call it the faded sector because of the way both the people and buildings appeared tired and worn.

It still took some time before the streets of cracked and broken cobblestones led Emren to his destination near the middle of the southern quarter. Looking toward the west, Emren could see the tiny forms of crossbowman manning the far-off walls were nearly swallowed up by the light of the sun which was now starting its downward descent.

Emren’s destination was a large building that appeared to be quite the hub of activity. Taliyah had pointed him here, but Emren hadn’t expected there to be so much going on at the location. It must be a powerful group to set themselves up like this in so little time. People were coming and going from the building freely making it the greatest hub of activity Emren had found while moving through the southern quarter.

A frown crossed his face as he observed the building from the shadows of a nearby alley. If the Soul-Sworn were this powerful he would have to be cautious when dealing with them. Taliyah hadn’t given him many details about them, but she had certainly thought they were dangerous.

Emren looked around for a moment before he rounded a smaller building that had once been a restaurant. The restaurant, now abandoned, was standing a fair distance from the Soul-Sworn base, and it would give him a great place to observe the Soul-Sworn before talking with them.

Emren moved toward a small shanty that had been built into the side of the restaurant. Illegal buildings like the shanty had become commonplace in the southern quarter. Once the quarter had started to fall, guard patrols became rare, and then almost nonexistent which allowed for the creation of such buildings.

This shanty had obviously been built by an amateur, just like many of the others Emren had seen. It was more a creation of scraps than it was a true building. After a quick inspection, the shanty appeared to be empty at the moment though there were clear signs that someone had been inhabiting the small structure recently.

After his quick inspection, Emren grabbed onto a wooden board protruding from the structure. Emren tested his weight on it, and found that the board was surprisingly sturdy. Using the board as a handhold, Emren began to scale the side of the shanty.

Ascending the building was no small task. Emren was forced to climb with only his right arm because of the deep cut on his left arm. Moreover, the injury on his side still screamed in pain at the exertion. As if that wasn’t enough on its own, the small shanty shook under his weight, adding to the precariousness of his position.

Despite the difficulty Emren managed to scramble to the top of the shanty. After steadying his footing, he made a final jump from the top of the short shanty, latching on to the lip of the restaurant. He then levered himself over the lip to lay flat on the rooftop.

After a short crawl, Emren had an enviable location to observe the Soul-Sworn. The hub looked just as run down as many of the other buildings in the district. The difference here was that the surrounding people didn’t have the same downcast gaze that was so prevalent in the southern quarter.

Another distinct difference was the presence of a pair of mercenary guards, marked by the eagle crest on their shoulders, lazing around the entrance. Emren let out a quiet snort of derision as he observed the pair. They didn’t stand at attention or have any polish whatsoever. One of the two was sleeping, while the other had taken off his boot for some inexplicable reason and was staring at toes he was wiggling vigorously.

If they were caught doing this in the city guard, Commander Gidar would have them running full-armor drills at mid-day, Emren thought wryly. During Emren’s time in the watch he had only run afoul of the Commander’s temper once, and he never wanted to repeat that experience.

Emren shifted his attention away from the two mercenaries and focused on the people entering and exiting the building. A few beggars in rags entered which was surprising. Usually, organizations would try to restrict entrance of their type.

Before Emren had a chance to think more about the beggars, a pair of well-to-do men entered. At first Emren didn’t notice their wealth because of their well-worn clothing, but even though the clothing was worn, it was free of dirt and grime, which was an oddity in the southern quarter. Aside from that the pair carried themselves upright, their heads with stylized hair held high.

It was obvious that the two had come from more prosperous circumstances, but were wary to travel in the southern quarter in their normal finery. A wise decision in Emren’s estimation. He himself wore clothing similar to theirs. A brown cloak over a plain gray shirt with some worn trousers. The real difference between him and them was the general upkeep of appearance. Emren had allowed a short unruly black beard to grow along with his unkempt dark hair.

He had once cared far more about his appearance, but those days were over. It all seemed so pointless to him now.

Emren mentally shook away the dark thoughts and focused on the Soul-Sworn base once again. He couldn’t allow himself to wallow in self-pity.

After an hour of observation Emren saw more of both beggars and the wealthy, and just about everything in between. Aside from that, he didn’t learn much more about the Soul-Sworn.

Activity around the building had died down significantly, and the sun was nearly completely hidden behind the walls of the city when something interesting finally happened.

Four men came into view directing themselves toward the Soul-Sworn building. They were carrying a large sack between them. The sack appeared to be full, with only a few lumps here and there to suggest what might be inside.

Suddenly, whatever was inside began to move. One of the men kicked the sack viciously causing the movement to cease.

There’s a person in there. Why would they bring a person here? Emren thought with a start. It took him a moment to remember what Taliyah had said. The Soul-Sworn were interested in bringing in shapers alive. The person inside that bag was most likely a shaper that had been captured for the ten-saree reward.

The four men entered through the doorway with their prize, and Emren waited until they had left before he finally made his move. It was quite dark by this point, and he didn’t want to lose his chance to enter the building before it was closed.

He made his way down from the restaurant, again wincing in pain from his injuries. After a moment to compose himself and stretch out muscles now stiff from his long observation he walked toward the Soul-Sworn building.

The two mercenary guards let him pass by without a glance and Emren could only shake his head at their lack of professionalism. One of them was still staring at his toes. Emren wouldn’t complain though. Anything that would let him complete his task easier was good.

The inside of the building was surprisingly clean, and it looked a lot like a reception area one could find in the nicer parts of town. A queue had been set up behind a counter where an attendant was talking with several other people who had business here.

Emren walked confidently toward the short line of people waiting to speak with the attendant. As he joined the line he casually listened in on the conversation between the attendant and a stocky man in ragged clothing.

“Yes, there was two of them walkin’ through the Rincon district. I felt the realm outside my shop.” Said the stocky man with a strong city accent.

The attendant nodded making a note in a ledger.

“And when was this exactly?” Questioned the attendant in a businesslike manner.

“Before sunrise. They was actin’ all shifty, like they was tryin’ to hide or somethin’.”

Emren wasn’t surprised that the shaper had been seen in the Rincon district. It was one of the poorest sectors in the southern quarter of the city where the most undesirable of people congregated.

“Where were they headed when you last saw them?”

“They was movin’ deeper into the district toward Broken Fount.”

The attendant began picking for more details like age and height before eventually thanking the man and sending him on his way with the promise that if his information proved valuable, he would be given a full saree as a reward.

Quite the sum. That amount was probably more than the man would make in an entire month.

The next person in line had a very similar conversation. And so did the next man. It took some time before Emren was next, and a few more people had joined behind him, but he paid them little attention.

Most of his thoughts were directed towards thinking how to convince the attendant to give him information on where to find the shapers.

Just as the final man in line before him was finishing up with the attendant, Emren heard a new group of people enter the building and a voice rang out, speaking to the attendant.

“Hey, Corrin we got a good tip for you.”

Emren’s blood ran cold.

He knew that voice. He had heard it many times before. It belonged to Mart.

Mart had been one of Emren’s fellow guardsman in the city watch. What’s he doing here?

Corrin looked up at Emren with an apologetic smile before speaking to him.

“Would you mind waiting a little while longer while I speak with these gentlemen, they are high priority for us.”?

Emren grimaced.

“No, I don’t mind, no problem at all.”

Normally, he wouldn’t stand for this kind of preferential treatment, but he really hoped that Mart or one of the other guardsmen wouldn’t notice him there. No doubt Mart wouldn’t want Emren to know that he was working with the Soul-Sworn.

It didn’t surprise Emren that Mart was on the take. He had always seemed slimy. He had abused his power every opportunity he could get away with it. Moreover, they had suspected for some time that he was taking bribes, but unfortunately, there were only rumors about him being corrupt, nothing substantial that could be used to expel him from the watch.

Mart and two other guardsmen Emren didn’t recognize shouldered their way to the waiting attendant. They weren’t wearing the normal city watch uniform, doubtless they didn’t want anyone to know they were members of the guard.

“What do you have for me today Mart?” Corrin asked.

“A shaper entered the eastern gate not too long ago.”

Corrin raised his eyebrows in surprise as he noted down the information.

“Did you have him followed?”

“No, I only heard about it afterwards. One of the other guards processed him. He was young though. In his twentieth year or thereabouts.”

The conversation carried on and Emren tried his best to remain unnoticed. Unfortunately for him, some of the others in the queue behind him had started to grumble at being cut in line. All Emren could do was hope that the guardsmen wouldn’t notice.

Eventually, the conversation wound down and Mart turned to go. Emren let out a sigh of relief when Mart didn’t spare him a glance.

His relief quickly turned to horror when the man directly behind Emren muttered

“finally!” in a voice that was clearly audible.

Mart glanced back at the offender for a moment before looking away, then he spun around, locking his intense gaze directly on Emren.

Everyone went silent at the motion. Mart stared, and Emren could see the calculation going on behind the man’s gaze. Then finally something seemed to click. Mart smiled widely before his hand moved to the hilt at his waist.

“There are rumors all over Spectralia about a large group of shapers killed by a single man this morning. What do you think of that?”

Emren tried not to react to the statement, but Mart must have seen his surprise.

Shadows! Emren thought, he must have pieced together why I’m here. He knows how much I hate them, why I hate them. They won’t let me leave alive now.

Emren had killed quite a few shapers, and the Soul-Sworn seemed to be collecting them for some reason. They certainly wouldn’t be pleased to lose out on what they had deemed a valuable commodity.

“Mart, you’re a rat.” was Emren’s only reply before he exploded into motion.

He shoved the man from the line who had been grumbling the loudest into Mart, keeping him from drawing his sword, and dashed for the exit.

Emren narrowly managed to dodge underneath a sword strike from one of the guardsmen as he continued his escape.

Shouts of alarm rose from several throats as Emren ran.

Emren burst out of the building to the sight of the two mercenary guards trying to ready themselves for battle.

Despite Emren’s disdain for them, both had managed to draw their weapons in the short time between the alarm being raised and Emren rushing out of the building.

Unfortunately for them, they had no idea what to expect, and Emren breezed past them without a problem.

To their credit, both immediately set out in pursuit, though the first quickly fell, screaming about glass in his foot. Apparently, he had never replaced the boot he had taken off.

That didn’t mean much because the guardsmen were right behind the second mercenary.

Emren considered fighting for a moment but quickly discarded the idea. He had managed to win against the shaper rabble that morning, but there was a big difference between fighting the untrained and fighting trained swordsmen, especially while he was already injured.

Emren ran north, but he knew he had to lose his pursuers before leaving the southern quarter. It would be far too easy for them to call more of the city watch to help apprehend him if he were to leave the safety that the southern quarter provided.

Using his childhood memory, Emren ran through a maze of backstreets and alleys trying to use quick turns to escape the sight of his pursuers, but despite his best attempts he still couldn’t quite elude them.

As the mad dash continued Emren’s breaths quickly became great heaving gasps. His side was on fire, and every breath he took only added to the flames. But he pushed on, looking for an opportunity to escape.

It finally presented itself when Emren rounded a corner and came upon a couple of hooded men clearly up to no good. They looked startled to see Emren barreling toward them.

They both bolted.

Instead of following them, Emren quickly ducked behind a large pile of trash, doing his best to push himself in the pungent heap without making noise.

A split-second later Mart and the two other guardsmen rounded the corner.

Emren held his breath to prevent a gasp from giving himself away. It was dark enough that it would be hard to notice him unless he moved or made a sound.

The trio of guards ran past his hiding place, racing after one of the two men that Emren had spooked.

As soon as they were out of sight, Emren began gasping for air. He wanted to leave quickly just in case they realized they had been tricked and turned back. Emren started walking back the way he came, but the sound of boots running stopped him in his tracks.

The mercenary, right. Emren thought as the man jogged around the corner. The mercenary had apparently been lagging behind. It wasn’t surprising. The city watch maintained its members with strict physical requirements, while mercenaries didn’t have such a standard.

As soon as the mercenary saw Emren standing there, he opened his mouth to yell.

The sound never came out. A quick lunge forward and Emren struck the mercenary in the throat with a fist.

The mercenary reeled back, trying to gain some distance, but Emren didn’t give him the space. He pressed forward, striking out with his leg to the mercenary’s sternum.

The mercenary flew back into the wall behind him and Emren quickly ended the fight by grabbing the dazed man’s head and ramming it back into the mortar and bricks.

Emren left the mercenary slumped against the wall and staggered his way home in exhaustion.