» Sun Dec 04, 2011 8:04 am Illusions of Humanity
Chapter One
The sun had almost fallen when Elren Brushwood rode through the first checkpoint, a hazy golden orange with a surrounding cast of clouds rolling in from the west. A thunder storm, perhaps? Redwood certainly needed it. The rain, at least. Gods, the entire kingdom needed it. Illacor was as dry as a bone, so brittle nearly to the point of breaking.
Elren was met by two nodding militia guards wearing cheap leather armor, the two of them on the cusp of nodding off in an entirely different way. Elren’s day hadn’t been lazy in the slightest (it seemed it never was), but it appeared to be a different story in Oakdale.
Oakdale wasn’t exactly a “village,” per se, but it was a tiny settlement that everyone had to travel through in order to gain entrance into Redwood. Oakdale was comprised of a few houses, the families of those houses the ones who took care of the place. There was an inn and restaurant combination, a stable for horses and carriages for people who didn’t take the train, a general goods store, as well as an undersized chapel for the inhabitants of Oakdale themselves (the permanent inhabitants rarely left Oakdale, for there was much to do and much to upkeep). It was adored by all as a “visitor’s check-in” for Redwood, a nice and peaceful place with plenty of hospitality to go along with its delicious home-cooked meals; a good welcoming before stepping into the enormously chaotic and busy city that was Redwood.
Though Oakdale wasn’t an exceptionally loud place at night, there was always a bonfire to be had in the hot summer nights, friends and strangers alike uniting for a night of festivity. Maybe it’s just too early for a bonfire, Elren thought, looking around for someone but seeing no one. Maybe they’re waiting for the sun to go down completely. It made sense, of course. He wondered about that, though, because for the exception of the sleepy guards, there wasn’t a soul in sight. An odd thing it was for Oakdale, despite its low population. Though not nearly as raunchy and congested as the streets of its bigger brother in Redwood, Oakdale had plenty of arrivers and leavers to take care of. Oh well, Elren thought as he looked back at the guards. Maybe everyone’s tired today.
He tapped his horse’s left side with a booted foot as the mare showed signs of slowing down. It had been an exceptionally long day for her (he refused to stop midday because he wanted to make it home before nightfall), but it was only a little ways to the stable. “Don’t worry, ole girl,” Elren whispered, caressing Marlie’s soft brown ears. “I promise we’re almost there.”
They passed the guards and immediately came to covered bridge over a thin slit of water, trees and bushes and other shrubbery at either side, Oakdale’s “wall” that acted as a border between the settlement and the stone-paved road, Elder’s Way. He crossed the bridge, his horse’s lazy feet clapping against the aged wood and happy to be shaded from the summer heat if only just for a few seconds, and headed towards the stables. As he did this, he finally spotted someone not adorned in a militia uniform.
“Roger!”
His voice boomed with excitement and cut through the air of silence, startling the short and burly man who had been bent over a pile of freshly cut logs. The man resembled a miniature bear with his size and scruffy black beard, though the momentary expression upon his middle-aged face was pure shock. When he realized it was only Elren, however, it shifted to the warmness Elren had always adored. The rosy cheeks of Roger Brushwood glowed happily at the sight of his nephew.
“Elren!” he yelled, walking over to shake Elren’s hand and pet the horse’s mane. “I trust the Gods were good to you while away?”
The met halfway, the chapel and the homes and the stable on their left, the inn and general goods store on their right. Ahead was Redwood, its massiveness compared to Oakdale like a pea to a watermelon.
“I’m still alive, ain’t I?”
Roger just shook his head and laughed as he led Elren toward the stable. “I suppose you are! Come, put Marlie away and have dinner with us! Arelia is just about to put it on the table! The boys’ll be happy to see you! It’s been… what? Two weeks?”
It had slipped Elren’s mind that he had indeed been gone for two entire weeks, though that remembrance only fueled the fire as to why he was so happy to be home in the first place.
“Sorry, uncle, maybe tomorrow,” Elren said with a wink. “There’s a certain lady who didn’t think I’d be home for another three days. I’d like to surprise her.”
Smiling and unlatching the wooden door at the stables, Roger said, “You always were smooth with the ladies. Like a tall glass of iced water on a hot day. That’s what your great-uncle said about you when he was still alive. Remember?”
The 27-year-old Elren nodded, remembering those teenage days, and jumped down from Marlie and helping to get her inside the pen. It took no effort that evening, and she was lying down in a pile of hay within seconds, fast asleep before Elren or Roger had even left.
“If you say so, uncle,” Elren laughed. Though the sky darkened by the minute (with aid from the rapidly approaching clouds), Roger seemed to notice Elren blushing. “What’s that you’re starting at?” Elren asked with a chuckle. It felt great to be back at home. He had forgotten how much he missed his family.
Roger beamed as he led Elren to his house. “Love, my little nephew. Love has filled your life and I’m happy for you.”
“Yes, uncle, well… it’s filled my life for five years now.” Then, after a long pause, “That’s a long time, don’t you think?”
Roger stopped at the door, looking back at his nephew rather than continuing inside. “Is there a deeper message behind them words?” he asked, bushy black eyebrows risen below a tanned, wrinkled forehead. There was neither a smile nor a frown upon his chubby face.
Oh, uncle, you have no idea.
“I… well…” Elren stopped and looked at the matted grass below, shuffling his dirty boots. “I don’t know… maybe?”
Leaning against the wooden door, Roger narrowed his eyes as if the sun was still high and bright. “Something you wanna talk about?”
Elren was silent for the longest time. There were plenty of things he wanted to say. Of course there were! He simply wasn’t sure on how he should say them. But Uncle Roger was a good man to talk to. Wise, experienced, humble… the nicest man Elren had ever known. Never having known his actual parents, Roger was very much a father figure. He’d raised him, after all, hadn’t he? Yes, along with his Aunt Arelia. They were just as much a mother and a father as anyone could be.
He deserves to know, Elren thought, fumbling with the container to the silver-studded diamond bracelet he held in his left pants pocket. Though physically it was light, the mental strain it had been causing was tremendous. If there’s anyone who can help me, it’s him.
“I… I love her, uncle. Elsey is the world to me.”
“Aye, that you do,” Roger said, his chubby cheeks stretched in a wide smile. “What of it, though?”
Elren couldn’t help but laugh, for his uncle knew. He may not have been the sharpest of minds, but Roger Brushwood wasn’t a fool. Not by a longshot.
“I guess you know what I wanna say, right?”
Roger nodded. “Of course. I went through the same thing, Elren.”
“Well… okay… so yes, I wanna marry her.” He let out a deep breath, for the relief he felt was wonderful. Roger was the first person he’d told. “Do you… do you think the time is right? After all, five years with the same girlfriend is a long time.”
Again Roger nodded, though now he eyes shifted to the ground. He rubbed his beard in deep thought, sweat pouring down from his bald head. He wiped it away from his forehead absentmindedly before answering. “Yes, you’re right… five years is a long time. But Elren, that don’t necessarily mean nothin. It was only a year before I asked your aunt to marry me. It depends on the situation. One person’s situation ain’t the same as another’s. If you’re askin me if I think you’d make a great husband, then yes, I do. But if you’re askin me if now’s the right time to ask Elsey to marry you, well… I can’t answer that. That’s a decision you have to make. No one else can do it for you.”
Elren didn’t respond. He merely looked up at the sky, still fumbling with the bracelet his uncle was unaware of. The bracelet that everyone was unaware of.
“Not the answer you were lookin for, huh?” Roger asked, laughing and patting his nephew’s shoulder.
Finally Elren looked at him. The smile upon his lightly bearded face wasn’t quite “forced,” though it definitely took some effort. “Not exactly,” the young bounty hunter said, looking down at the grass again. He didn’t like feeling so nervous. He wasn’t used to it. Though he’d spent the last five years with Elsey, his uncle was right. He had always been quite the lady’s man. His way with women had always come smoothly. Elsey was different, though. Much different.
I guess this is what real love feels like. Not lust… but love.
Roger just laughed again. “Let me say this, then. You love her, and she loves you. Now I ain’t no mathematician or anything like that, but ain’t that the only formula for marriage you need?”
And for the moment, at least, the unease was gone, and the only thing Elren could do was laugh. His uncle was right, after all. But love ain’t the only thing. Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should marry them. Again he fumbled with the bracelet, wondering whether or not he should show it to his uncle. I understand what he’s saying, though. I do love Elsey, and she does love me. We’ve been together for five years. So what’s holdin me back?
He already knew the answer to that question, but it wasn’t something he wanted to think or talk about. Not even with his uncle. He would show his uncle the bracelet, though. Elren was proud and wanted to show someone, at least.
“I want to show you something, uncle.”
Roger’s curious eyes watched as Elren pulled from his pocket a beautiful silver container the size of a small bar of soap. It was as smooth as it was gorgeous, a faint glare from whatever sunlight was left.
“Elren,” Roger gasped, mouth hung open like and eyes wide with astonishment. He knew what he was about to be shown. He knew what was inside the silver container.
Elren opened it and revealed the bracelet, a thin silver band lined with tiny red sparkling diamonds. Roger was speechless, and for what seemed an eternity he gawked, and he gawked, and then he gawked some more. Even Elren, who had been the proud owner for nearly six months, couldn’t take his eyes off of it.
“Elren, it’s… it’s magnificent,” Roger finally whispered. He moved his arms as if to grab for it, then quickly put them away.
“It’s alright, uncle,” Elren chuckled. “You can hold it.”
Roger took the bracelet and cupped it into his meaty hands. It was a tiny little thing. A tiny little bracelet fit for a tiny little wrist.
“I’ve had it for six months,” Elren said. “I wasn’t sure when I’d give it to her, but when I saw it I had to have it.”
“Where’d ya buy it? Glade’s?”
“No, I didn’t buy it in Redwood. Remember when I took that trip to Parón with Arkum and Mondero earlier in the year?” Roger nodded slowly, as if in a trance. “I bought it up there. Some elven jeweler who used to live in Mírr.”
“An elf from them weird countries out west, huh?” Roger asked, still his eyes never leaving the extravagant piece of jewelry. “That explains the red diamonds, then.”
Roger opened his mouth speak, left it open for a few moments, and then closed it shut. Elren could tell his uncle wanted to know how much he had paid for the bracelet. He was dying to ask, it was so easy to tell. But Roger never did ask. And for that, Elren was grateful.
I’m not sure I’ll ever tell anyone how much I paid for it, Elren thought, smiling to himself. It surprised him how easy he’d gotten away with it, really. He’d been shocked that Elsey had bought the story when he told he’d gambled it away. She hadn’t enjoyed that particular story, of course. Gods, no she had not! But she didn’t know the truth, and that had been enough for Elren. The mission in Parón had paid handsomely, though not even that was enough to pay for the bracelet entirely. It had taken a bit of haggling and a bit of bartering, but now it was his. For six months it had been his.
But for how long?
Until tonight, he thought, smiling. Tonight it’ll be hers.
At last Roger handed him back the bracelet. Elren placed it this time in the inside lining of his brown vest, along with an assortment of foreign coins he collected for no apparent reason.
“Elren, it’s… I’m speechless,” Roger said. He rubbed his beard and just shook his head. “It’s absolutely stunning. If I may ask, when do you plan on giving it to her? When do you plan on asking her?”
“Well… I think tonight. I’ll surprise her, take her out to dinner. Then when we get home we’ll have some wine, sit by the fire or somethin and I’ll just… just… I’ll just ask her.”
Elren shrugged his shoulders and laughed, his cheeks reddening once again.
“You seem so nervous,” Roger said. “The lady’s man, as smooth as iced water on a hot day… nervous. Heh… never thought I’d see that day.”
They both shared the laugh and Roger hugged him. “I’m proud of ya, Elren. You ain’t a nephew. You’re a son. If you ever need anything, just ask me. Ya hear? I know Elsey’s parents all the ones with all the money, but Roger ain’t no chopped liver, am I right? Ha!”
He released his hug and Elren’s cheeks were still just as red as they were before. “Thanks, uncle.” He stood there silent for a second before adding, “And I’ll be over for dinner tomorrow evening. How’s that sound? I’ve missed ya’ll so much.”
“Sounds wonderful! Bring Elsey with you, ‘course! Arelia will die when she sees that bracelet.” Then, laughing up a storm, “Mayhap it’ll make her jealous!”
Elren laughed too, but deep inside those killer butterflies with metallic wings still nipped at his innards. It wasn’t that he was nervous that she’d say no. He was quite confident she’d say yes, for she had even been dropping not-so-subtle hints as of late. No, it wasn’t a lack of confidence whatsoever. It was simply that marriage was a different game altogether. And though he felt he was ready (and she, too), he still wondered how it would be. He still wondered how much his life would change.
He said his goodbyes and marched off towards the gates of Redwood, the bracelet in his vest only growing heavier with anticipation.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The only thing between Elren and Redwood was Konár River and the colossal Glider’s Bridge. Konár was a snake of a river, coming from the mountains in the southeast and winding directly across and splitting Redwood from Oakdale, wrapping itself around Redwood on the western side before shooting straight up between forests and hills and dumping into the Arnesian Sea in the north. It was as wide as it was long, stretching all the way down to the southern regions of Illacor, far away from Redwood.
Elren found that he was the only soul on the bridge that evening, though he knew there was sentry at the opposite end where the city gates lay; official guardsmen this time, soldiers of the Redwood Army with their red and gold uniforms. Halfway across the stone bridge he passed a spiraling staircase leading down below where, underneath, sat a thin slit of grassy earth that had been forgotten by all long ago. It seemed everyone had a story to share when it came to Konár Bridge, and it was no exception with Elren.
It’s where I met Elsey, he thought happily, stopping completely and wondering if he should do what he wanted to do. He took a few steps toward the staircase before stopping. Looking up into the sky he immediately made his decision. Mother Moon had already taken Father Sun’s place. What little light there was came from torches along the sides of the bridge at every forty step intervals. I… I guess I could stop for a little bit. For a few minutes, at least. I don’t think it matters now anyway. He no longer had plans for dinner. It was already far too late for that. Stopping down memory lane for a while wouldn’t hurt anything.
So he strolled down the stairs to get a glimpse of the place where he’d found his first real love. The space was smaller than he remembered, barely large enough for thirty people. Probably less than that, even. Those five years ago it had been used by Elsey and other artists, a sort of makeshift gallery for those to show off their work for the sake of showing it, for those who hadn’t yet been accepted by the “professionals” of Redwood’s Artisan’s Circle. No money involved, just pride and praise. It seems like more than five years, though… a lot more than five years. Back then there had been dry dirt with tables set up every which way, wooden walls boarded up to keep the water out. Now it was an entirely different story. The walls were now either gone or broken down and useless, all of the tables having disappeared as well. Mud covered the entire floor and grass up to Elren’s stomach grew randomly and untamed.
Elren sat on the bottom step and just stared out in front of him. They had met by pure accident. A certain artist had owed the bank money. It was an easy assignment but Elren had been a fresh recruit back then. It was funny because he actually let the man get away, though certainly not on purpose. He hadn’t even known where he was, unaware that amateur artists came underneath Konár Bridge to display their artwork. Elsey was a painter, and though the portrait she had displayed that night was absolutely gorgeous, it was her face that Elren noticed above all else. They talked for a while; he pretended to know something about art but failed miserably. She had even playfully called him out on that. That was when he asked her out to dinner sometime. She said yes… and five years later Elren was sitting at the place where they first met, the marriage bracelet tucked into the pocket inside his vest, wondering what exactly he was getting himself into.
What he felt wasn’t regret, though. Those artists (most of them, anyway, thankfully including Elsey) had moved on to bigger and better things, especially for he and Elsey. No, what he felt wasn’t regret at all. What he felt was sadness. Or, rather… a different kind.
Did I make the right decision by falling in love with her? He knew the answer to the question before he had eve asked himself. Of course he’d made the right decision. He hadn’t lied when he told his uncle Elsey was the world to him. He loved her more than anything. It wasn’t a matter of whether or not he had made the right decision. It was an entirely different matter altogether.
Did she make the right decision?
Elsey Gronstaff was the twenty-five-year-old daughter of Audori and Ranella Gronstaff, two of the richest nobles in Redwood. Audori owned The Cobbler, Redwood’s beloved newspaper. Ranella Gronstaff came from a wealthy family from Raen, the southern capital of the Kingdom of Illacor. Both knew what it meant to have money and both knew what it meant to have prestige. Importance.
Elren had never known any of that. He had lived in Oakdale with his poor aunt and uncle before learning to shoot a pistol and how to fight during his teenage years. He became a real intimidator. Quite the troublemaker, really, thanks to those who he’d made friends with (some of them still working with him at the bank to that day). Eventually he’d been hired at the Bank of Redwood, where he dealt exclusively with those who didn’t pay their debt. Not just any debt, but big debt, the kind that caused people to go on the run, sometimes out of Illacor altogether. He was a bounty-hunter, though Audori preferred to call his profession “hired thugs.” He had even said as much to Elren’s face, a few years ago on Elsey’s twenty-second birthday. Apparently his ring hadn’t been expensive enough for the daughter of Audori Gronstaff. Audori had said it jokingly, but Elren knew he was being honest. And while Ranella’s arrogance was just as bad as her husband’s, thankfully she was somewhat reserved. Never said much of anything, really. At least not to Elren, anyway.
I ain’t complainin.
Elren sighed, picking up a stone and tossing it across the mud-caked floor and into the sea. Elsey’s parents made things difficult, doing everything they could without actually coming out and saying they wanted their daughter to find a more “suitable and productive” partner, but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part? Not being able to shake the feeling that Elsey had the same opinion.
That’s stupid and you know it! He thought, taking another rock and launching it, this time into the stone wall to his right where it smashed into tiny pieces. She loves you.
Yes… Elsey certainly loved him. That was as plain as anything. Why the negativity, then? Why such pessimism?
Because she could want me as a boyfriend and nothing else, that’s why. What if she doesn’t want a husband? And even if she does someday want a husband… what if she doesn’t want it to be me?
Elsey didn’t share her parents’ haughtiness, but she was a woman on the road to greatness. That too was as plain as anything. And Elren? He had no future in sight. At least nothing concrete. He’d always had a mind to join the security force in Redwood, perhaps go to the Academy and work his way up the ranks until he was an actual detective. Now that would be something to hang his hat on. That would be something to impress Mr. and Mrs. Gronstaff.
Not a chance, he thought miserably, forcing out a frustrated chuckle. He hadn’t the funds to attend the Academy, and he wasn’t about to borrow money from either the bank he worked for or the Gronstaffs themselves. Gods no, he could never do that. I have to do something, though. Because what if I’m right? What I’m not productive enough for Elsey’s liking?
As insane a question it was, he couldn’t shake it from his mind. He knew she loved him, but he was a worry wart. It was something that had plagued him his entire life, even back when he was as “smooth as iced tea on a hot day.” He constantly worried about things, was constantly worried about something!
“You have to give that up,” he told himself, momentarily shocked that he was talking to himself to begin with. He may as well, though. No one else to talk to. No one there to see him talking to himself, anyway. “You have to stop being so negative all the time.”
And that was what he would do. He got up from the ground, wiped dirt away from his faded denims, and made his way back up to the surface.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
At the end of the bridge he came to the gates of Redwood, tall iron walls guarded by four men in traditional cotton uniforms. Such material was the norm, of course, but Elren couldn’t help but feel sorry for them when the weather was so hot; such as the current summer, which was shaping up to be a real scorcher.
He tried walking past them (who, unlike the militiamen, did not look sleepy) and nodded, aiming to walk right into the city like he always had, when one of the soldiers stepped in front of the gates with his rifle held across his chest.
“State your business, sir,” the soldier asked, stone-faced.
“Excuse me?” Elren’s face was pure astonishment, but the soldiers took no notice.
“Your business, sir.”
“I live here.”
The soldiers exchanged glances, and that’s when Elren realized something was wrong. The soldiers should have been wearing the traditional red and gold uniforms that signified Redwood’s flag. These men, however, wore green and gold, which signified the Kingdom of Illacor collectively. Furthermore, Elren noticed that he’d never seen these men before. Never in his life, and he’d passed through those gates plenty of times and had seen the faces of hundreds of soldiers. Thousands, even.
Are these… are these government troops? From the capital?
“We’ll have to see some paperwork, sir,” said the same soldier. The other three moved closer, as if they didn’t believe Elren at all. He noticed they were all young, likely younger than Elren even.
“Paperwork? What do you mean paperwork?”
“We’ll have to see some proof that you actually live here, sir. The King’s orders, I’m afraid.”
“Proof that I actually live here? By the Gods, I work for the Bank of Redwood!”
“Oh we’re sure you do,” the soldier said, grinning ear to ear. They were having a good ole time with Elren’s frustration. “We just need the proof. Can’t be having any more rebels here. Redwood has enough of those as it is.”
“Rebels? What are you even talking about?”
One of the soldiers seemed to give the talking one an awkward stare, and the one speaking with Elren seemed to realize he was beginning to talk too much.
“I don’t believe we asked for questions, sir,” he said, trying to slap back on that tough-man attitude. “Give us proof that you work for the Redwood government or we’ll send you in the opposite direction. Continue your insubordination and we’ll throw you in jail. Your choice, not ours.”
Elren wanted to talk back. Gods, he wanted to do much more than that! But he could see the seriousness in the soldier’s face. He wasn’t playing around. Also, he’d said “King’s orders.” Yep… they’re government troops alright. What’s going on here in Redwood? I’ve only been gone two weeks…
“What kind of proof do you even need?”
“What is your position in the Redwood government?”
“Well… it’s not like I work work for the government. I’m a bounty hunter for the Bank of Redwood, which is controlled by the government.”
“Oh, so you’re just a money collector then?”
The grin on the soldier’s face was almost too much. Elren’s fists clinched and he gritted his teeth, forcing out the fakest smile he’d ever conjured. “If that’s what you call it, yes… a money collector.”
“Well, does the government supply you with specially marked guns? A necklace or some other thing that would show that you work for the bank?”
“Bounty hunters buy their own equipment,” Elren said, looking at his dual iron revolvers that rested in their leather strap across his waist, guns that were much cheaper than Elren would have liked. He made a decent amount of money in bounty-hunting, but usually nothing more than to cover basic living expenses. He never asked for money from Elsey (though she would buy them both things regardless). “We have headquarters in Redwood, though. Us hunters, I mean. It’s that two-story building next to the bank itself.”
“Yes, the barracks for you… hunters. We’re aware of it. That still isn’t proof, though. You could be lying to us.”
Elren was running out of ideas, running out of patience, but thankfully someone came to his rescue.
“The boy works for me. Let ‘im pass.”
The voice came from the right, from the tiny dirt road that led to Lake Ondrusek along the city’s eastern walls. The owner was a man of fifty-seven years old, yet strong and active enough to still be in his twenties. He was Jeral Hedge, and he was Elren’s boss.
“And who are you?” the talking soldier said to Jeral.
Elren couldn’t help but smile. He could barely keep himself from laughing! Oh he’s done it now, Elren thought. Speak to the Boss Man like that and get a whippin’!
“Excuse me, fella?” Jeral asked, walking into the gate’s torchlight. He was an easy 6’2” with a lean and muscled body, an intimidating man despite his age. His long, white hair fluttered in the wind of the oncoming storm.
“I said,” the soldier said, though slower now that Jeral had come out from the shadows, “who are you? This business if none of yours, sir.”
Jeral walked up to the man, towered over him and gave him the meanest stare Elren had ever seen. “Who am I?” Jeral asked. “I’m a man who’s seen more battles than you’ve seen fancy exams in that prissy little university of yours down in Raen. That’s who I am.”
“Sir,” the soldier said, trying to sound brave but failing miserably, “I couldn’t care less about what “battles” you’ve seen, you will not talk to me like-”
“Jeral Hedge, A-Company, 4th Army,” Jeral said, producing a medal from within his collar.
It was a pure gold medallion, with a red ruby placed directly in the middle. Elren had seen it plenty of times before. It was something given to the finest of soldiers, to those who had done something extraordinary while fighting for Illacor’s military. And while Jeral never did like to give details about what he had done exactly, the effect it had on the government soldiers now was… well… extraordinary.
“Captain Hedge, to you fellas,” he said coolly, placing the medallion at his chest for them to gawk at. “But these days the only thing I captain is Redwood Runners. Now Elren’s one of my finest, so how ‘bout you tell me why you haven’t let him in before I report you to Governor Fyre? Hmm?”
“That… that’s an honor medal,” the soldier said, his mouth hung open. “So, you did fight in a war. Which one?”
“That’s right I did,” Jeral said, spitting off to the side. “Many of them, but that ain’t none of your concern. You thought I was jokin? Ha! You Guard fellas are all the same. Go through some trainin, get some fancy title, and all of a sudden you think you’re somethin special.”
“Sir, that’s no way to talk to someone of Raenian Guard! I could have you thrown in jail immediately!”
The Raenian Guard? The King sent his personal élites from the capital? What for?
“And this has been no way to treat an employee of the Redwood government. Now I’ll say it again, and for the last time, let my hunter through or I’ll report you to Governor Fyre for insubordination. I don’t give an ass’s [censored] if the King sent you here, you got no right to treat everyone that comes through like they’re some… rebel. Rebel! Bah! Conspiracies are for the paranoid.”
“You dare speak ill of the King in front of an élite?”
The soldier’s face was priceless, a mix of shock and total disgust… and Elren lapped it all up.
“The only thing “élite” about you fellas is your self entitlement. Let us through.”
The soldier was silent for a long time. Then, after looking back at his friends, “This will be reported, sir. I hope you know that.”
Jeral, smiling wide, answered promptly. “Oh I’m sure it will. Every little thing seems to, doesn’t it?”
The soldiers parted and within seconds the gates opened. What just occurred was somewhat surreal to Elren, and he merely walked alongside Jeral without saying a word. Once they were inside and the gate was closed (and out of earshot of the guards inside), Jeral broke the silence.
“I didn’t expect you back for a couple more days,” he said, grinning and patting Elren on the shoulder. “I trust everything went smoothly, then?”
“Easier than I thought it would,” Elren said. “The man didn’t even run. He all but just… gave me the money.”
“Good. Do you have it with you now?”
“Of course.”
“Keep it with you. You can give it to me tomorrow mornin, I don’t wanna be seen walking the streets after having money exchanged.”
“Why, you think someone’s watchin you?” Elren said, laughing.
To his surprise, though, Jeral didn’t laugh.
“Unfortunately someone is watchin me. A lot of someones, actually. Can’t talk about it now, ‘course, but we’ll talk plenty enough later. Go see your girl and come see me in the mornin.”
Elren stopped just as they crossed over into Peddler’s Way, a long street that would soon bring them to the Market District. Elsey’s house was beyond that in the Noble District. The streets weren’t so crowded, now with the shops having been closed. He was happy to have arrived at such an idle time.
“Sir… what’s going on? Why are government troops from Raen doing here?” he whispered. “élites of all people!”
Jeral shook his head and sighed. “Lots of things have happened since you left. Like I said, come see me tomorrow. You’ll give me the debt you collected and we’ll talk more. See your girl, get some rest.”
“Alright. Well… I guess I feel like I should be tellin you good luck or somethin.”
Jeral didn’t answer at first, only looking to the side as if in deep thought.
“Mayhap you should,” he finally said low and matter-of-factly, still looking away. “But for now say nothin. Good night to you.”
And with that he left Elren standing there by himself. He was confused, curious… and for the first time in months the bracelet didn’t weigh on him whatsoever.
How much could have possibly happened in just two weeks?
