The Windcaster [Fantasy/Adventure | Featured | Complete ]

Chapter 19: Fresh Eyes

It was with fresh eyes Tia saw Kiramone as they left the Far-Land Inn, little Anshar waving his cheerful goodbye. She saw the tremors present in the audience, the shakes, dilated pupils, sweating, and restlessness as they stood and cheered at the brightly-clothed performers. She began to notice the quick darts into the back streets, popping a dark grape-like pill into their mouths as they crouched behind bright advertising banners, and the withdrawal symptoms resolving quickly. They would then return to the scene as though nothing had happened. She could spot quick hands exchanging money for small, suspicious-looking wooden boxes that likely contained the same drug so many people were taking. Gold pieces flowed like water from the pockets of those dressed in tatters and covered in grime, all for those strange pills.

She was quiet, leading Enusat in step behind Master Anu and Aplaa. The carrier lifted its head haughtily at the jostling of the crowd. It became obvious that there were pickpockets among the peers. A small hand here, a quick dip there and a flash of a gold or silver coin piece would disappear into the crowd. She could see the hands belonged to little street urchins with frail, thin limbs and huge, gaunt eyes. They were like little shadows, flitting between people and not leaving a trail behind them. They dared not touch the Windcaster, for that was a punishable offence, but the tourists, spectators, and tradesmen were free for grabs.

"What yer doin', ye lil' brat!" yelled one hefty, muscular foreman as he plucked a young child out of the crowd. The little boy struggled in futility, spindly legs kicking in the air. He was wearing a tattered tunic with several poorly-repaired rips and shoes with more hole than shoe.

"Lemme go! Lemme go!" he squeaked, pounding his tiny fists against the grown man's beefy forearm to no avail. The foreman replied by shaking him, making him squeal. A gold coin dropped onto the ground.

"Ha! Ye lil' thief!" There was disgust on his bearded face. "Fink ye can just steal from me, eh? Well I'mma report ye to the ministers, ye 'ear? Ye'll get a proper whippin' fer this!"

"I ain't a thief!" the young boy said in a shrill voice. He was slowly turning purple as the man's hand clenched; the boy's legs still kicked in the air.

"Do not, Tiamat!" Enlil slapped a quick hand onto Tia's shoulder. Her fists were clenched, although she hadn't realised her intent was so obvious. She turned in indignation.

"He is innocent, Enlil!" She was torn between keeping her word to Master Anu and rushing in and blowing the man off the face of Dernexes. Everywhere around her, people passed as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. They all continued with their eating, joking, talking, trading, not batting an eyelid that a young street boy was being physically assaulted right in front of them.

"He is not our problem." The boy's tone was absolute. "We cannot act whilst with Master Anu, or we risk misrepresenting him."

"But–"

"He is not our problem."

"What happened to you freeing all the oppressed?" she said with all the vehemence she could muster, flushing.

He eyed her steadily.

"I have told you already. If I am to save one, I am to save every single one of them. He is one of thousands in this city. This is not the place to start."

She glared at him.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?"

The two snapped out of their argument at the sound of the old Windcaster's smooth, peaceful voice. The crowd, which had gathered around the man and the boy, fell silent.

"Ah, ye a Windcaster?" The burly man bobbed his head respectfully at the sight of Master Anu's light blue cloak. "Just this 'ere kid be stealin' from me, sir. I've a right mind ter get 'im whipped, sir, I 'ave!"