《Soul of the Fallen》The Perch
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The city of Percharus was a hellhole. There was no better way to describe it. Where the town stank with unclean streets here the city reeked to the high heavens and back. It was worse than the barracks. Worse than any public restroom I had ever visited, and believe me, I've been to many. But even in the cesspits of third world nations I had never been so tempted to lose my lunch.
Then there was the noise. I had not heard so much in the local fair or marching band performances! People had to scream in order to get their words across, and everywhere I walked I saw hawkers shouting their wares as if they were made of solid gold. Imagine a man screaming that his child had fallen into a lake, and that he could not swim. Imagine the same man duplicated six hundred thousand times, and you will have the general idea.
I could not even begin to contemplate how sleeping was possible. Every moment of life would be permeated by the shouts of an entire city. Enough to completely suffocate the sound of anything that was not a trumpet. Oh, and there was the trumpets. Everywhere we headed there were trumpets announcing the different lords and ladies. For them alone, streets were cleared so that they could move. Then once they were gone a tide of humanity would rush in like vultures seeing a carcass.
How they moved so fast, I had no clue. The streets were a doctor's nightmare. Piles of hardened shit created a hardened road that more shit piled on top of. The entire street was a sickly brown a foot deep. I could see footprints in it, thousands upon thousands of feet trodding past the urine and excrement of men and animals alike. I was not a physician, but I could already diagnose half the city population with some type of disease or another.
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Then there was the river, if it could be called that. Trash, filth, and other excrement floated atop the poisoned water, which had turned a murky green. It looked like a sewer, except of course, there were no sewers. If there were any fish, which I was certain there wasn't, they would be dead and showing their tails above water. I pitied any poor man who had to take a drink.
Silvana was kind enough to hand me and the couple of servants a bag of rose petals. If it the smell ever got the better of us, put it to our nose, she said. Well, it was there the moment we entered the city and had never left since. "If the pile of shit is what the king has to rule, I do not envy him at all." I said.
"Only a fool would." Silvana agreed.
The wheels of our carriage sloshed against the filthy streets below. It rocked back and forth as people and soldiers alike crowded the narrow streets. Every minute or so it would tilt, and I would go flying into Silvana. I grunted as she slammed into me for the fifth time. "For the love of god, can't you use sorcery to stop this?"
"The carriage is always moving. It would drain too much of my strength." She replied. If I were paying attention, I would have noticed the pleased smile on her face as she clung onto me for support.
Overhead, I could see the black smoke clouding the skies. Runoff from chimneys, I would guess. "Why would anyone live here?"
"Merchants and guilds. Craftsmen meet here in large cities, and great guilds control wealth. Any man who comes may find an apprenticeship, and a man of trades rarely starves." Silvana answered.
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"They can't even afford to clean their streets? Where are the janitors?" I asked.
"The king pays for the cleaning. But the king has no more gold. These streets have not seen a janitor for half a century."
I shook my head. "Talk about poor kings."
"Do not. Poor or no the king may order your death at any moment. You are a celestial." Silvana warned.
I thought I had seen enough until I saw the slums. The outer circle of the city was much finer than what laid in the wasteland between the palace and the walls. Beggars lined the filth buried streets, garbage was heaped in massive mountains above their heads. On their bodies I could see cuts, too many cuts to count. Sightless eyes stared out from bloody and blackened heads. Their wounds were black, reeking of infection and death soon to come. The worst sight of them all were children. Starved, naked children crying in the streets.
In the ruined houses that loomed over the road girls called out from the windows. Half dressed, filthy girls wearing servants robes that had less flesh than bone. Their heads jutted out beneath the roofs as they called out to the passing citizens, more pathetic and desperate than seductive.
I thought it could not get any worse. Then, I entered the heart of the city. The beauty and splendor was breathtaking. Marble fountains dotted the countless glided guildhouses and noblemen's mansions. Small castles towered high above the city square like guardians. High above them all, a palace full of elaborate gold carvings shone under the light of the sun.
The contrast was sickening. Glittering mansions and palaces only a mile away from the slums where starving children cried for their absent mothers. Thousands of idols and statues carved from precious metals smiled down with serene expressions at the passerby. Well dressed, confident men and women moved about with their daily lives. Where the citizens wore tattered clothes the merchants and nobles were swaddled in layer after layer of fine silks.
The streets were clean here. So clean that it sparkled like glass and reflected the noon sky. "We have arrived at the great city of Percharus." Silvana announced.
Three sets of eyes turned to my disgusted and livid gaze. My voice shook as I spoke. "No, we have just left."
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