Ebudae

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Ebudae Page 3

by Carroll, John H.


  “Not at all. It is good to grieve for those you love.” His voice was gentle and filled with concern. Then he straightened. “Do you remember me telling you that there would come a time when I would need your assistance?”

  Pelya nodded, an expression of curiosity on her face as she wiped away the last tears.

  “That time is coming closer,” the knight said gravely. “It will require bravery beyond your years. You will not be required to assist me if you do not wish. I pray that you find it within your heart to do so though.” He bowed. “Reanna’s blessings upon you and your father. May her light guide your way through darkness.” With that, he turned his horse and rode off down the street. His squire and another man followed him, nodding as they passed.

  “That was . . . odd,” Ebudae said after a moment.

  “Uh huh. It was like that last time too,” Pelya replied. She used the handkerchief to wipe her face a little better. “I know that Reanna is the Goddess of the Sun and that she has few followers because most people follow her older brother, the God of Sun. I don’t know why the sun needs a god and a goddess.”

  “What do you think he’s going to need your assistance with?” It sounded like an adventure to Ebudae and she loved adventures. “Wait . . . you are going to let me help aren’t you?” The thought of her friend having an adventure without her drove a dagger in her heart.

  “Of course!” Pelya replied, linking arms. “We’re going to have all our adventures together.” She became thoughtful. “I don’t know what he wants. It’ll probably be dangerous.”

  “Good. It’s more fun when our lives are in danger. The blood rushes through my veins and everything starts moving in slow motion around us. It’s so neat!” Ebudae skipped ahead and did a spin.

  “Seriously, you have problems!” Pelya said with a laugh as she skipped alongside. “Can you believe we’re out in the city alone?”

  They both stopped and looked around at the people moving along the wide, tree-lined street. Workers carried supplies over their backs or in small carts while ladies of wealth wearing liberal amounts of perfume walked to the park or market, each protected by wary bodyguards. Occasionally a carriage carrying a rich merchant would roll by. The sound of traffic and voices mingled with the songs of birds chirping merrily in the warm morning air.

  It was the same city the girls had seen before, but always in the accompaniment of an adult capable of protecting them. Dralin was the most dangerous city in the world, a fact no one disputed. In addition to unbearable crime rates, there were more wizards in the city than in any two countries combined. So many people using magic created terrible, supernatural pollution on top of the normal pollution generated from smoke, tanneries, smithies and all of the other aspects of a city filled with millions of people.

  The magical pollution was deadly, forming iridescent green puddles in back alleys and gutters. To touch it was to become one of the Deformed, creatures whose skin and mind were eaten away. They walked through the streets looking for more pollution to eat in crazed hunger.

  It wasn’t a concern in the Merchant District where Lady Pallon’s estate was. Ostentatious manors bordered the streets, each with guards to show how important the occupants were. The rich women strutting by wore opulent dresses that assaulted the eyes instead of attracting them. It was an offensive show and Ebudae hated every aspect of it.

  “They’re looking down their noses at us even more than usual,” Pelya observed. She examined her outfit. She wore a shiny red shirt with gold embroidery instead of the normal blue with silver. Her pants were black with matching gold embroidery and she wore a silver sword belt laced with gold filigree. Ebudae knew it was expensive clothing. Her friend was rich by most standards, from coin given to her by members of the City Guard whom Pelya called her aunts and uncles.

  Ebudae by contrast, wore a long white dress with black and green frills. It was something she had made on her own and looked very much out of place against the pastels and puffs plastered on most of the ladies and merchant wives surrounding them. What those people didn’t know was that numerous runes of protection and power were sewn into the material with threads that blended into the cloth. Ebudae wasn’t about to go anywhere without magical protections. “I don’t think we’ll ever fit in,” Ebudae said with a wry grin. “They’ll just have to keep looking down their noses at us while we go about doing as we please.”

  “I guess they will,” Pelya replied, grinning back. She held out an arm. “Shall we?”

  “We shall.” They skipped down the streets, eliciting gasps of disapproval from the uptight ladies who gawked at their boldness.

  It didn’t take them long to reach the Noble District where the people were just as rich, but more dignified. The occasional noble nodded or smiled at the young women walking happily along. Ebudae was thrilled at the freedom and a little scared at the same time.

  She had never been allowed out of the manor alone. Neither she nor her grandmother were welcome very many places, so it was rare that she left, even with an escort. It hadn’t stopped her from going through a secret door in her secondary workroom that led to stairways going deep below the city, but those dark ruins weren’t as frightening as the dangers above ground.

  Young women often disappeared in Dralin. There were countless houses of prostitution, sweatshops and every other terror imaginable for a person. Worst of all were the slavers who slunk in the dark alleys waiting for a lone fool to get too close. People kidnapped in Dralin were usually smuggled out to other countries while people kidnapped in other countries were smuggled into Dralin. It was a vicious cycle of crime making the world of Ryallon a terrible place to live for many.

  Pelya’s father was a member of the Dralin City Guard. Thousands strong and exceptionally capable, they did their best to keep chaos and lawlessness from taking over, but it was an impossible task. The crime guilds were powerful and deadly. To remove any one would come at a great cost of life, leaving openings for others to gain more power.

  Even worse than the crime guilds were the wizards. They were anarchists for the most part and avoided control wherever they could. They were dangerous in the city where magic was strong. Any one of them in their tower could repel entire squads of the Guard should they choose.

  So the Guard did their best to keep people safe whenever they could. The weak and vulnerable were often lost to evil and darkness. The strong stood a chance of survival in Dralin, but even that was a slim chance.

  “I think it’s funny that they would only let you go if I came with to protect you,” Pelya said as they moved from the Noble District to the Mosh District, an old section of the city occupied by performers from Carnival, young merchants looking to make their way in the world and university students.

  “I know, right? You’re younger than I am, but they trust you and you’re so good with that sword. They figure you can keep me safe. Plus we’re only allowed to go to areas where there’s a strong presence of City Guards.” A unit of those guards waved from across the street and they waved back. “I’m willing to bet that every single unit knows to keep their eyes out for you.”

  Pelya sighed. “Yeah. I made Daddy promise not to have us followed, but every member of the Guard looks out for me and they know we’re out on our own. I couldn’t figure out how to make all of them promise.” She shrugged her shoulders in embarrassment.

  “I think it’s wonderful that you call them all aunts and uncles. Everyone says how terrible it is that you’ve been raised in the Guard, but it has to be better than being stuck alone in a room like I have my entire life.” Ebudae checked all her pouches, making sure they were tight so thieves couldn’t get them. It was unwise to carry pouches around the waist, but she had a system and each pouch had magical items or ingredients, plus they had wards that would hurt any would-be pickpocket. If someone tried to steal one, they’d be in for a terrible surprise. Ironically, her coin pouch was tucked away in a secret pocket she had sewn into her dress.

  “You love bei
ng alone though,” Pelya pointed out. “Your favorite days are the ones where you curl up on the couch with a stack of moldy books and read while drinking tea.”

  “It would still be nice to have the option of not being alone though. If your father hadn’t saved grandmother’s life so long ago, I wouldn’t know you either and then I’d just die.” Ebudae’s shoulders slumped at the thought.

  “But we do know each other.” Pelya put an arm around her shoulders. “Maybe we’ll get to make new friends today and you can have the option of spending time with them even though you’ll still sit around reading all day,” she said playfully.

  Ebudae stuck her tongue out. Then she looked around at the mismatched stone and wooden buildings. It was as though different architects had a contest to see who could be the most unique. Odors became stronger than in the Merchant and Noble Districts. People wore heavy perfume in place of taking baths. The streets weren’t filthy, but they weren’t clean either.

  Individuals were as varied as the buildings. There was the occasional merchant, peasant, laborer or old person sitting on steps or talking to each other out of upper level windows. Most of the people seemed to be friendly, even tipping their hats or nodding in greeting to the two of them on occasion. It was vastly different from the sheltered life she had lived.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Pelya said, her voice filled with concern. Ebudae looked at her in confusion. Pelya explained, “You became sad like I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.”

  “It’s not that . . .” She looked at the shiny black shoes on her feet, oddly fascinated by the way they kept moving one in front of the other. It was better than thinking about what was bothering her.

  Pelya stepped in front of her and took her by the arms. “Ebudae, what’s wrong? Tell me.”

  Tears fought their way to the surface in spite of Ebudae’s best effort to hold them back.

  “Tell me,” Pelya insisted firmly.

  “Grandmother says I’ll end up just like my mother once I make friends.” Ebudae continued to stare at the shoes even though they weren’t moving now. “She says I’ll meet terrible people, do drugs, have sex and dump a child off on her to make her even more miserable.”

  “Your grandmother’s a heartless, cruel, mean-spirited, old lady with a lifetime of candlesticks stuck up her butt!” Ebudae looked up to see fury on Pelya’s face, the type Frath showed when angry. “You get to be who you want to be, not who your grandmother tries to make you out to be. I’m sorry she’s so mean. You deserve better.”

  Ebudae wiped the tears off with a sleeve. “Thank you. I’m so glad you’re my friend. I would have died without you.”

  Pelya gave a sharp nod. “I agree. You’re totally alive because of me. I’m amazing.”

  Ebudae glared playfully at her friend’s impish grin and shoved her in the shoulder. “Sure. You’re amazing. Let’s go to Carnival.” They laughed and skipped the rest of the way.

  Chapter 3

  Frath watched the two girls disappear around the corner and then closed his eyes. He was terrified. Pelya was the only thing he truly cared about in his life. Frath had loved Sheela, Pelya’s mother, with everything he was. Her death had nearly ended him. Sheela had given him a daughter. Not just any daughter, but the most wonderful, beautiful and delightful daughter in the world.

  Now his daughter was walking through the streets of the most dangerous city in the world. Frath had seen beautiful young women come into the city only to find them broken and dead in dark alleys, their lifeless eyes accusing him of failing to protect them.

  He turned and began walking in the other direction. Frath needed to pray to his goddess. He needed to beg her to keep his daughter safe. The thought that Pelya could end up like one of those women was driving him mad.

  Pelya must hate me for raising her in the Guard. Frath felt terrible guilt at not being able to give his daughter a decent life. Nearly every member of the City Guard was like family to her, numerous units were currently keeping their eyes open to make certain she and Ebudae would stay safe, but it wasn’t the same as a real family.

  People jumped out of his way as he stomped along the sidewalk, but all he could think of was how angry Pelya had been with him lately. She seemed moody, spending all her time either drilling or hanging out with Ebudae. He was certain she hated him and it was killing him inside.

  At least Pelya had Ebudae. They had been best friends since childhood. Frath was grateful that Pelya could be there for the poor girl. Lady Pallon was Frath’s best friend, but she was a terrible person when it came to raising the child. The woman hated her daughter for leaving Ebudae in her care and took that hatred out on the girl.

  He ran into an old man who couldn’t get out of his way in time. The startled man tumbled into the street gutter, his scrawny legs flying through the air over his head. Frath uttered a surprised profanity and scrambled to help the man to his feet.

  “I’m sorry, sir guard. My bones don’t move me out of the way so well these days,” the old man apologized fearfully.

  “It’s my fault, Citizen. I wasn’t paying attention. My behavior is unacceptable.” Frath felt terrible. The poor man was terrified as were others surrounding them. Not every guard member cared for the welfare of people and it was a high crime to kill anyone of the Guard. People generally avoided even saying anything negative in the presence of a Guard, especially one as big and strong as Frath. “Please accept my apologies, my good man.”

  He nodded, not sure how else to react. Once Frath let go of his arm, the elderly gentleman hobbled away as quickly as his shaky legs would allow. Luckily, there didn’t appear to be any permanent damage.

  Frath looked around at his surroundings. Bystanders who had been staring at him found other things to do. He ignored them as he noticed that he had reached the edge of the Orphan District. It was where he had been raised, a terrible childhood in overcrowded buildings run by corrupt officials.

  A shadow across the street waved at him. He didn’t respond in case people might think him even odder. Ever since the Goddess Distra had touched his mind, he had been able to see the shadows. It was one of the side effects that came with his amethyst eyes.

  Most times, the shadows danced sadly. They were always sad and Frath had no idea why. The shadow waved at him again. Another shadow waved him over too. Frath looked around, but he was the only one who noticed. They waved at him once more, so he crossed the street after letting a carriage go by.

  Another shadow near the next intersection waved at him to go over there. He did so, being careful not to run over any more old men. At the intersection, two more shadows gestured for him to follow down the side street. He looked around for anything out of place. Other than the shadows trying to get him to follow, everything was as it should be, so he continued.

  At the next intersection, a crow flew down and perched on a lamppost on the other side. It cawed at him. Its eyes flashed the same color purple as his. At that point, he knew the Goddess Distra wanted him for something. They weren’t leading him to the temple, so it had to be something else.

  The crow flew ahead. Frath followed at a cautious pace at first, but the shadows became frantic and rushed down the street ahead of him. They would move for a short ways before disappearing because the object or person casting them didn’t move in the same direction or speed. Then they would reappear and continue trying to run. The crow came back and landed on top of a wooden shop sign sticking out the side of a building. It cawed urgently and then flew off.

  Frath broke into a run, which seemed to please the shadows. After a moment, he found his stride and began to make good time. The crow stayed ahead of him, looking back on occasion to make certain he was keeping up.

  At intersections, the shadows would guide people aside or make them stop so Frath could continue unhindered. Those people never suspected what made them stop at such a fortunate time. Most were startled when the tall guardsman barreled past at unsafe speeds.

  Shadows led him north
through the Church District with its massive temples and priests preaching on every corner, then to the enigmatic Tower District with its furtive wizards. A shifting barrier of magical illusion shimmered around the entire district, making it appear to shimmer and move. Many said that the streets within the district did move. Frath knew that belief to be fact. The District was one of the hardest and most dangerous for the City Guard to patrol, even though every Guardmember had enchantments sewn into their uniforms to prevent the shifting from affecting them.

  A few minutes later, the crow perched on a wooden awning over the door of a tower. It cawed at him expectantly. Frath came to a stop and put his hands on knees, trying to catch his breath. The shadows also stopped and pointed at the building, urging him to go in.

  “Yeah, yeah. Let me catch my breath.” He waved them off and looked around. Frath was in excellent shape and he was already breathing easier, but running at full speed for so long took its toll. It was muggy in the early heat of the summer day and sweat was pouring down his forehead and back in a futile attempt to cool him off.

  Every tower was different. All were at least three levels high while the tops of many disappeared into the sky. Nobody knew how many wizards lived in the district as they refused to be counted and it wasn’t safe to irritate wizards locked away in enchanted towers. The dark-red, stone building in front of him rose four levels before splitting into three thinner towers that angled outward at physically impossible angles. Each of those butted against buildings to either side while one sloped forward to lean against a tower on the other side of the street that was also at a precarious slant.

  The tilting towers up and down the skinny, curving street blocked out most of the sunlight. A supernatural fog that stayed in the district permanently added to the effect. Frath was in a hidden, lightly-traveled area and there were only three other people on the street even though it was a busy part of the morning in most areas of Dralin.

 

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