Every Little Memory

Entry #43: Scarlet

My mother used to make sure I never went out at night. Being an innocent child that was always at her mother’s side, I never disobeyed her. As I grew into my teenage years, I was always so busy with my daily chores that I never once considered sneaking off to see what wonders waited in the dark. Following my parent’s death and our relocation to Tayri, I soon learned of the people that lingered when the sun sank beneath the horizon.

It was the fear of these people that made my mother keep me inside after dusk. It was why my father and Annette gave me so many things to do. They wanted to keep me occupied so I never encountered the dangers of the dark city streets. Back then, even Alifen could have its own nighttime hazards. For me, it is not so much fear but common sense. I know that I could end up with my valuables stolen or lying dead in an alley somewhere if I wandered about Tayri’s darkened streets. But, it is a bit shameful to admit that I have a slight fear of the dark. Any form of evil could come crawling out, you see.

So everything about where I am causes the warning bells in my head to start ringing. My instincts shout that night is falling and I should be inside. The sun has almost vanished and as it falls lower and lower in the sky, my heart begins to race faster and faster. Everything about it feels wrong. I have to stay firm and continue to remind myself that I am in the world of memories, where nothing can touch me.

Once I calm myself and gather my bearings, I take hesitant steps forward into Tayri’s market square. This space is enormous, made to accommodate the large number of merchant stalls set up here. It has to be able to fit the permanent stands along with the small booths set up by temporary traveling salesmen. Thus the square is wide enough to fit a manse and then some. The buildings surrounding it are spaced evenly unlike the rest of Tayri. Whole alleyways run between each one, an easy place for anything to hide. I imagine the ones who crafted the city did not account for the shadow stalkers that could slip down these openings with ease. Their main concern was not making the square so cramped.

On the western side of the square are the docks and shipping warehouses that are critical for successful trade. Vessels sail down the Cerulean River every day, bearing goods from other lands and travelers seeking success in our bustling town. Those warehouses are also targets for thief activity and are always protected by many guards. Rory works at the docks, helping deliver cargo to storage. I don’t worry for him too much; my brother is strong. I amuse myself by thinking that anyone who tries to pickpocket him would get smacked silly before they could even touch his coin purse. Once, he broke a man’s nose just for tapping him on the shoulder. He just wanted to get his attention to ask a question, but Rory was on edge since night was falling. He is…a bit high strung.

There is a large amount of guards surrounding the warehouses now, pacing back and forth along the perimeter. There are two stationed at the entrance to every building, tall deadly spears in their grip. Many of them are also spread through the square; many more than usual. I know this is Tayri before I was born, but I doubt that this is normal.

The merchants are packing up for the day, returning their unsold wares to storage and counting their earned coin. Some regular citizens are also milling about, on their way home from a long day of work. As people walk about the square, the guards eye them all with suspicion. It makes some of them nervous, I can tell. It would make me nervous too, knowing a guard that is twice my size is watching my every move, wondering if I am some sort of criminal. One wrong step, one thing that could make them assume the worst, is enough to have the city guard take action.

It soon comes to the point where there are only guards lingering in the square, keeping an eye out for any danger. It is clear with this heavy amount of men that they are expecting something. The atmosphere is tense and thick with anticipation, as if someone is waiting for something to jump out of the alleyways at any moment. The moments pass with nothing of import, but soon the guards start to mutter amongst themselves.