The Old City

0.5: Rather Forgotten

"We all have scars, even those of us who didn't fight. Magnar took a position on the Baymont and prevented trade by land. The sea routes fared better, but they threw hundreds of ships at our armada. We lost galleys upon galleys tryin' to protect our merchant vessels. But it became harder to trade after that. Magnar stationed troops in all the major eastern ports to kill anyone who tried to smuggle supplies into the city. There was even less food than there is now.

"That made people angry. Fights would break out every night and you know the Enforcers didn't do shit to stop it. Did you see the driftwood blockades and scrapyard bars over the windows? Every building in the First Ring has been burglarized in the last five years. You'll hear it tonight – the cries of the mugged – and worse. The war may have ended, but the violence hasn't."

Marcus stood and stretched while she was talking. His eyes were far away but every few moments he would glance at Angelica or that box in the corner. Angelica watched him too for any sign of what was going on inside his head.

"And what of yourself? Has the woman I loved had as bad a time as this city?"

"You said you'd behave if I came up here. What if someone is listenin'? We don't love each other that way."

Marcus puffed dramatically. "But what happened to you?"

"I survived. Like anybody else, I did what I had to."

"Very descriptive."

"Maybe I don't want to talk about it."

"I told you how I was captured and tortured for years. You can't tell me what happened while you were –?"

Angelica gave him a look so hateful that his mouth clamped shut immediately.

"Okay," he whispered. "If not you, tell me what happened to Seneca. He is not well."

Angelica hung her head. "You'll have to ask him about that because even I don't know all the details. Every day he struggles to get out of bed and he walks with a limp. He doesn't eat unless I come over with something. He doesn't even go to the docks to work unless I prod him. All I know is that he got injured in the war and then honorably discharged. But none of the soldiers he fought with ever come to visit him."

Marcus sat on the bed and put his arm around her.

"It's not your fault. What happened to you. What happened to him. It's not your fault."

"I know that."

"It's an easy thing to forget, especially because you can't ever forget the bad parts. They linger. Like an infection. It's easy to forget that you did nothing wrong."

"I wish that were true."

"Look at me." He waited for her to turn. "Even if you did something wrong – something as bad as anything that's been done to me or to you or Seneca – it doesn't matter. Now that I've returned, I have your back. Seneca's too."

"What can you do? You have returned but I still don't know why."

"Seneca didn't tell you?"

"I rushed out as soon as he said you were here."

Marcus reclined and threw his arms behind his head. "I'm gonna make Soran a better place."

"Pft. Good luck."

"I am serious. The First Ring has taken the dregs of the city for centuries and every attempt to make life better for ourselves has been squashed because we couldn't muster the strength to demand change."

"And you have that strength?"

"I learned a lot during the war."

"That doesn't mean you can just walk up to the Enforcers and demand parley. You need leverage. Gods, you'd need more than one person to support you."

"Do I have a supporter already?" Marcus raised his eyebrow suggestively.

"Not even one."

"How would you suggest I build leverage and support then?"

"You won't. Everyone is too afraid."

"Of the Enforcers?"

"Of the gangs. They're the ones terrorizing our homes even though they're supposed to provide 'protection.' You only escaped the draft if you were part of one, so they're bigger than ever. Even the Enforcers don't make a move on the big ones."

"I've heard as much. I will start with them."

"You're just makin' this up as you go along, huh?"

"I'll have you know I have a very sophisticated plan."

"Well count me and Seneca out. We just want to get on with our lives and don't need to get rolled into another conflict. He isn't gonna tell you this because he's too happy you're back. He can't do it. He's not physically or magically able to help you in this, Marcus, so don't ask. If you try to involve him any more, you will kill him and I will never forgive you."

He looked at her and saw resolution in her hard brown eyes. "I'm gonna do it regardless. I can't let my home continue like this when I can change everything. It would have been easier with your help but I can find other ways. The last thing I want is for you and Seneca to get hurt further."

Angelica nodded.

They sat in silence for several minutes. The room grew chilly, she rose, and gave Marcus her biggest smile.

"It was good to see you, Marcus. I'm sorry we can't help you, but I know you will be fine." He stood to open the door for her and was thrown back when she embraced him ferociously. "I'm glad you're not dead," she whispered.

She walked out of his room and sprinted down the stairs, through the bar, and into the open night. She glided more than walked home, head full of thoughts from her conversations. Her usually calm mien was cracking tonight. She stumbled as she wiped tears from her face, her vision blurry from the wet. Through the tears, though, joy sprang forth, that widest of smiles never leaving her face.