The Old City

0.26: Twenty Minutes

The Redlight District, five years ago

Rain battered the cobblestone streets of the First Ring. Amongst the bustling people rushing about, Angelica stood alone watching the Huron House with dread. It loomed large like the Gate of Damnation. Its lamps, inviting to most, cast imposing shadows and hissed against the rain. The moans from inside rang out like cautionary chants.

Angelica could not bring herself to move. Her soaking clothes stuck to her skin – she hadn't bothered to bring an umbrella. She'd come straight from navy headquarters.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty more.

Angelica almost stepped forward a hundred times but couldn't. The small distance to the mansion seemed like crossing the entire Continent. It was impossible.

She was about to leave when a side door of the Huron House slid open, and her heart fell into her stomach. Alaria was making a round about the garden (Lady Huron liked her sweet merchandise to show off and remind passersby what they were missing). The teenager wore a long green dress that fell to her ankles and twirled a bamboo umbrella to deflect the rain away. When she saw Angelica, she smiled and rushed over, but slowed as she approached.

"What's happened?" Alaria asked, breathless. Her face whited when she saw Angelica's tears mixing with the raindrops, streaming down her face.

Angelica shook her head. "Marcus..."

"No!"

"His ship went down near Windkeel."

"That's not true." Alaria's umbrella fell, splashing against the stones.

"A storm ripped through it, and they found no survivors. Marcus is gone."

Alaria slapped Angelica's cheek, which grew red and hot. Angelica saw the blow coming and took it. She would be Alaria's punching bag.

"Don't say that," Alaria seethed, clenching her fists. "Marcus isn't gone. He wouldn't leave us."

"I'm sorry."

"Shut up! You should never have let them go."

Her words were ice, devoid of emotion, and accusatory. Yet hatred burned behind her eyes. This moment had seared itself into Alaria's memory, and she would never forgive her once-sister.

"I –" Angelica couldn't get the words out before Alaria began to scream.

"They never would have left if it weren't for you! Numeer, Marcus! Everybody's death is on you. Well, perhaps not everybody. Isn't it so convenient that Seneca is the only one left. You get to mend the broken toy back to health while the rest of us have nothing. Get the fuck out of the Redlight District. If I ever see you back here, I'll have Lady Huron's men throw you off the Jaws."

"Alaria..."

"Get out. Before I scream."

"You don't have to do this." Angelica reached for her arm but she pulled away. "I lost him too. I don't want to lose you as well."

"You already did!"

Alaria spun around and stormed back to the Huron House and Angelica continued to stand in the rain. No guards came out to move her, but she felt a dozen eyes bearing down. She continued to cry, her tears joining the flood upon Soran.

***

June 27th, 10053

"I thought you were dead," Alaria sang. Her voice had always had a melodic quality, but it had had taken on a new luster. Every blink was designed to mesmerize and as Marcus beheld her captivating green eyes, he felt himself falling under her spell.

They were now in her domain. Alaria's chamber was the largest in the Huron House, a corner suite in which she entertained her princely visitors. Its passionate shades of red took on an otherworldly quality, like this space was completely independent from the rest of the First Ring. The exterior walls were open-air, welcoming in the afternoon sun while an ornately carved wooden banister allowed Alaria to look out over the Redlight District and see the goings on – more importantly, it was the perfect place to be seen. When she required privacy, she could pull back the wooden panels to turn into a wall. For now, though, she was perfectly comfortable letting the world watch their discussion.

"I'll begin with an apology," Marcus said. "I wish I had never gone to war. I wish my ship hadn't gone down. I wish hadn't been captured and left you thinkin' I was dead. I am sorry for any pain my death caused you."

"Do not be so dramatic. We had a funeral without a body. It was touchin', but I moved on."

Marcus watched her for any sign of deception. She had grown cautious and distrustful, and she'd learned to lie. Well. If he hadn't known her, he would have been hurt.

"It is nice to know I was missed."

"Angelica was pretty torn up. Seneca was too shut off so I do not know what he felt."

"But you were fine."

"Don't let the face fool you. I have thicker skin now."

She stared him down, challenging him to ask more questions and receive more cold responses.

"Well I don't imagine things can ever go back to how they were, but I have missed you, Alaria. I am sure your life has not been easy either."

"Do not pity me either. I am not the helpless girl you remember. I climbed to the apex of the Redlight District – you're in my world now."

Marcus squirmed in his chair, beads of sweat beginning to pool on the back of his neck. The conversation was not going as he had hoped. On the defensive, he risked angering Alaria even more.

Alaria shot him another disarming look, shadowy eyes beckoning him to give her answers even before she asked:

"Why are you here?"

Three rose candles were lit, their disarming sweetness wafting about the air. They reminded him of his favorite flower merchant in the Grand Bazaar. In fact, he had introduced the merchant to Alaria many years ago. He looked around again and realized there were more relics. Her hairpin, coated bamboo dove, used to be Angelica's. Above her door hung an ink painting Seneca had drawn of the sun falling behind the Jaws. On her wrist dangled a bracelet that seemed to be two pieces welded together – half he did not recognize, but half was certainly the centerpiece of Darah's necklace, a cross with a snake wrapped around it. Numeer's puzzle box sat in the corner, the edges worn down from repeated use.

"You tell me," Marcus retorted. He found resurging energy knowing she had kept these mementos of their past. "You invited me here. Why? Aren't you worried I'll scare away your customers?"

"My customers will come even if you stay there all night, but as that would make you even more uncomfortable, you should speak quickly. Before they come, tell me why you're really in Soran."