In A BALLAD OF BROTHERS, fifteen-year-old Achim Arbitor searches for the last living member of his family; his brother. To that end, he wanders the ruin of an old world aided by powers believed to be a gift of God.
Years have passed since his quest...
This Title Cover depicts Naomi and Achim sitting together. I like drawing them interacting with one another. There is something about the juxtaposition that makes imagining their conversations fun for me.
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Naomi was an idiot. After doing what he could only describe as gallivanting across the inner city, that was all Achim thought. At least, that was the best explanation he could come up with.
Nothing more needed to be said about the metropolis within the wall. The Great City of York, though a splendorous sight to see, was a bed of bigotry. This fact was as clear to Achim as the hot summer day, yet Naomi seemed oblivious to the culture in which she had been submerged.
Naomi interacted with Achim openly, and she was not shy about her familiarity with him. Often giggling at or grabbing onto Achim's person, the task of finding Adlai with him excited her more than he thought it should. It was annoying in some ways. Achim carried the burden of his search for so long that it felt crippling, yet here was a posh-prim kid who seemed to twirl at the thought.
Yes. She was absolutely a child, but there was something invigorating about such pure enthusiasm. Even as Naomi cheered upon finding useless clues, spat bad ideas like machine gun fire, or slowed his progress by insisting on a sit-down every hour, Achim could not bring himself to temper her efforts. His heart betrayed him though, for nothing good could come from the girl's eccentric ways.
From Naomi's open affection grew an unspoken hostility. The reason was as shallow as a glancing look, but a glance was all most people needed. Achim, despite having donned the clothes of the inner-city, maintained the demeanor of an outlander, a rim dweller, a slum walker. The term did not matter as much as the fact. An outlander walked their pristine roads, and, to compound the insolent act, he somehow coerced one of the city's sunborne daughters to walk in his shadow. It was an affront most could not tolerate.
The whispers were mounting. From the crowd Achim caught countless insults and far-off threats. They were the words of cowards of course - no one dared to approach Achim or Naomi - but it was the unspoken disdain that truly pinched at Achim's spine. He could pinpoint a voice, if need be, but he could not always see an advancing assailant or account for spiteful, unseen actions. If it was just him, Achim might have found himself less concerned, but the naive Naomi, as strong as she was, seemed an obvious target. If only she knew, Achim thought. It would definitely make working with her easier, but little could be done when he was pinned to the city's every periphery.
Most shops and stalls meant for those with special citizen status, a label granted to all outlanders, were carved out of the fringes. This meant that these designated shops occupied narrow alleys, abandoned paths, and vacant, often unsightly or unlivable spaces. Anywhere out a sight of the city's true heirs was fair game, and it was there where Achim often stuffed himself.
