(Picture- the city layout)
From its position, sight was not a problem.
Right now, the only thing it cared about was the stability of the winds and being discovered by the humans. A sudden up-gust threw it off balance and it had to struggle to steady itself again. The winds here were so different than anywhere he flew before. They were quite chaotic.
It flew above one of the greatest human cities, Aliera. It was a city built in a series of rings. There were three perfect circles of walls, each with a larger diameter than the last, situated inside each other. But the fourth however, was not part of the original city layout. It grew out of the third at an odd angle. It was a loop budding off, rather than a completely separate ring. The fourth wall was much shabbier and, he noticed, was host to the smelliest of humans. The humans' nests were so close together you could easily peck your neighbour, compared to the other rings which had bigger, more spread-out nests.
There were low-lying hills in all directions which could serve as both an advantage and a disadvantage in a battle. One could see for leagues around for any attack, but they were also exposed in the open from all sides. The nearest big river was half a day's flight away. But he knew the humans were tricky, and were able to survive here through unknown magic means to get their water.
He drifted towards the very centre.
The Aleria palace was the biggest man-made structure the raven had ever seen, nestled in the very heart of the city. He dropped his altitude and flew lower, but not so low that he could be seen just yet. The towers were tall, spiral columns, capped with grey and blue slate roofing. The numerous windows were all different sizes and shapes, as well as plenty of statue, most of which were of people. It had a large, cobbled courtyard, which was lined with sentries, all standing deadly silent. He observed that there wasn't one green leaf in the whole structure. No grass, no trees, no plants of any kind. Typical of the humans.
The innermost walls surrounding the palace were infested with human guards, so he spun away from the sentries and headed further outward. What he sought was further away from the palace. He knew that from an earlier spying mission a few days prior. From his position, humans looked no bigger than ants that he would pick off for a snack. But up close they were the greatest threat to his existence. Trying to find one in particular was going to be very difficult, not to mention dangerous.
A faint smell caught his attention. Amongst the filth and stench of the city, came a faint waft of something...different. That was what it needed to aim for. He finally saw it.
There was a young, female human, at least seventeen summers from his experience. She wore a dress of periwinkle blue that had been stained by mud and grime and worn out around the edges. Her fur was long and brown, tied into two plaits that started at each ear but merged into one once it reached the back of the head. She also carried a large leather bag tied round at her waist. He went lower still to get a closer look, to confirm that this indeed was the person he was looking for. However he didn't consider how low he was flying.
An arrow narrowly missed the joint of his right wing.It didn't cause any damage, but the panic caused a few small feathers to drop out. That was close. He cawed and swerved quickly to the right to avoid another volley. A horn was sounded from one of the walls; it was too dangerous to stay any longer. Turning around on the winds, he headed west, out of the city to converge with his master.
Isildilia heard an alarm call and looked up. The call was short and the clamour of the men on the nearby wall died down very quickly. Whatever had caused the alarm, it clearly wasn't worth their effort or pay. It didn't take long for her mind to pass on the thought.
There was an important matter she had to attend to.
When she was only six years old, her family had been forced out of their farm after their bad luck with their recent crops took their toll. Their only option was to move to the closest major city, Aliera.
Her father decided to retreat back to his original profession, being a blacksmith. When he was a young man he was in the process of training as a blacksmith. He often boasted about how his old master said he was gifted, but his Master took a sudden bout of illness and died. Unable to find someone to finish the work, he took up his father's farm instead to provide for Rhinel's oncoming birth.
At first they had to live in the fourth ring, also known as the Thislik. He found refuge working as an assistant for another, older blacksmith. The old blacksmith was happy that there was someone else able to handle that type of work and even helped to finish her father's training.
When the old blacksmith passed on years later, he left the workshop to him. However, because of her father's great skill they found themselves moving into the third circle, known as the Lithina, within a few years. Her father became known as a master blacksmith and without a doubt they could say their lives were better than when they lived on the farm.
Of course this took many years of hard work on his behalf, and they had only been living in Lithina for the last year. Despite all of this, she had made many connections from when she lived in the Thislik and also a strong position, which she must had to maintain.
She crossed under the gate border, and into the Thislik. It involved passing many brutal-looking guards, all of them gave her a slight sneer upon seeing her slink past. However, as she had passed this way many times, they had learnt to accept her presence slipping through; they had given up warning her of the dangers.
Dashing down the nearest alley, she reached into the bag tied round her waist to reveal another gown. This one was badly stained and damaged, dark brown and ragged, unlike the one she currently wore. It was dull and simple, allowing her to easily blend in with the Thislik people. It was also slightly longer than her other dress to cover up any signs she was from the higher circle. She also rubbed her hand in the grime and smeared a bit on her face; she couldn't look too neat.
Most people from the Lithina would be disgusted by the rotting smell behind the wall but, after living here for so long, she was near immune to it. She couldn't even smell it on her street-robes anymore.
She also slipped a small knife into a leather strap, just inside her left sleeve; it made it easy to slide out in a desperate situation. She never liked fighting or using weapons, but she could never be too careful. She just relied on intimidation most times and had her eyes for that bit. A handful of small children scattered past her, but not before giving her a quick glance and a nod, before disappearing like shadows into the network.
She quickened her pace as the day grew darker. People started to shrink into their houses and guard patrols increased. Many of them stomped past, carrying bows and pikes with curved blades on top. They threw her disgusted glances, as they mistook her for a Thislikiam. She knew better than to argue; it only meant her ruse worked. So she kept her head bowed and scurried deeper into the network.
The normal routine, the normal attitude, she thought to herself.
It took another thirty minutes of avoiding guards to finally reach her destination. In the very heart of the Thislik there was one particular street. It was very narrow; upon walking past most would miss it on first glance. But hurry down it and it came to a dead end in a circle of buildings. Soldiers could only enter one way, whilst locals could escape through numerous exits underground and onto the roof tops. Although there were many doors that served as the back entrances of the houses, they were never opened by anyone, boarded up or simply sealed up with the build-up of grime. It had always been the perfect place to meet up.
There were tall towers of crates and barrels, all stacked at different heights. There were four piles in particular, that were higher than the others, one of which was where she sat. As the night drew ever closer there were more disturbances from the street entrance.
Small grubby figures scurried along to join her. Many were no older than nine or ten, some as young as six. They all formed a semi-circle around her, waiting for her to act. All their clothing was dull, worn and stained, many patched together poorly. They all stared at her with longing eyes; she knew exactly what they were waiting for.
She reached again into her bag. This time, she pulled out a small loaf of bread; she had already cut it into reasonable slices to be shared out between the children. They followed it with ravenous hunger as she removed it. She handed it out to the largest of the children who, under her strict gaze, handed it out equally. She knew that if she wasn't watching, there was a likelihood that he might eat more for himself, or not give any to the younger children.
When each one was given a piece, they all dashed into different areas to find their seat. Some sat amongst the dirt of the ground while others picked a spot higher up. Some even climbed high enough to sit upon the roof.
Isildilia climbed up to hers. She perched on the top, waiting, just like everyone else. By the time night was fully upon them the circle was full. The only light was the moon on the clear night, it wasn't quite full, but it provided just enough to illuminate the eyes and cheekbones of every spectator.
Many of the higher seats next to her were occupied with other people. Thiya, Lithin and Hiram, each about eighteen years of age, sat on either side. The only remaining unoccupied space was on her right. This was his space, leader of the street children. Today was another gathering, which had been happening more and more frequent lately. Rather than every full moon, it had become every other week.
It may be easy for this lot to meet up, she complained to herself. But these are too regular for me. It's difficult to go unnoticed. This had better be important. She crossed her arms in conclusion to her rant.
Thiya leant in closer to her and whispered, "So, Demi, what do you think it's about this time?" Demi was her street name. Obviously, having a personal flaw with eyes that change colours meant she didn't go unnoticed in the city. People started calling her "demon-eyes". It was a name she had always loathed, but it soon shortened to Demi, as it was a quicker pronunciation. Soon its true meaning was forgotten altogether, and most even forgot her real name. She merely shrugged and continued to keep watch; even she didn't know what the meeting was about this particular time. Unlike before, it was far more difficult to get the messages to her in her new accommodation.
A figure appeared on the rooftop above them and silence fell below. The figure leapt down onto the top column, which creaked dangerously under the strain.
Dakelo had an impressive figure, designed to intimidate. His black hair glinted with the moonlight, and as he leapt down his ragged coat parted to reveal the numerous blades he carried on his person. Many people did carry weapons in the Thislik, but the sheer number of knives was what made Dakelo so intimidating to others. He was a frightening looking man, but also her greatest friend. He sat down on his throne, holding his audience in an awed silence. He threw out his arms.
"Welcome, child representatives of the Thislik, to another successful gathering-"There was almost a sign of relaxing among many gatherers "-It has become increasingly difficult to meet up, patrols have become more regular and more people are disappearing." There were murmurs of agreement. Something was definitely wrong to cause such a stir with the security of the city.
"We are here as always to discuss the happenings of this grand city, so if anyone wishes to report anything at all of some relevance, please speak now."
A small boy raised his hand to gain attention. He quivered under Dakelo's gaze which almost prevented him from talking. He avoided his eyes. Dakelo waited patiently for the boy to gain enough self-confidence to speak out loud. When he did, he did so whilst staring out into complete space above them.
"There are a lot of street-boys, those old enough, being drafted to fight in the army. I spotted three men giving some of them a few drinks. Then they forced them to sign a bit of parchment and they got led off when they didn't have sense of what was going on." Even Isildilia found herself cursing under her breath with the others. How could they fall for such a trick? Everyone knew to avoid the guards at all cost.
Dakelo let out a long sigh and settled his head on the palm of his hand. Rubbing his forehead like he did, it made him appear at lot older that he was, crumpling his forehead made it appear as if it was lined with wrinkles. His reign was coming to an end. He was due to give it up as he was getting too old to be classified a street child any longer.
"Also," Another voice piped up, "there has been an increase in the defence of the city walls and weapon production." Isildilia decided to also speak out, something that she rarely did in any of these meetings.
"My father has been under constant orders, making armour and swords for soldiers, something is definitely going on and I don't like it. It smells like a war is brewing." There was a long pause, while everyone drank this information. No wonder Dakelo had been calling for more regular meetings. Just like the rest of them, she knew he was worried. More of them were disappearing, even she could tell the usual crowd lacked a lot of the older members like it used to. Dakelo then stood up, causing all eyes to suddenly focus on him.
"Right here is the plan, west quarter children –" they all looked up from their floor position "-you will try to find out any information about this suspecting war. East quarter –" they were sitting slightly higher "-I want you to discover how soldiers are enticing the boys, avoid going near them if you can. North side..." and he continued giving orders to them, his voice increasing with command, until he stopped suddenly. All their heads snapped to the side when they heard a sound.
There was the sound of feet upon cobbles, as a boy ran into view from the next street. He was out of breath but managed to say the word
"Soldier." Within seconds, children were disappearing through windows, down sewer drains and onto the roof tops. Both Dakelo and Isildilia vaulted onto the rooftop behind them and hid on the other side. They waited to see that everyone was away safely before making headway. Carefully they looked over, just enough that they could see.
A single soldier appeared; his elongated shadow alerted them first. He had his bow drawn as he scanned the now-abandoned street. Isildilia heard Dakelo curse under his breath, using some words Isildilia dared not repeat.
"Damn soldiers, they can't help sticking their pompous egos in." He reached behind him and unsheathed his longest knife. Isildilia grabbed his wrist.
"What do you think you are doing?" she hissed. "That will only alert him to us."
"One well-placed throw is all that it takes," he remarked. "You know I can make it."
"Don't even try," she warned. "One well-placed throw and this place will be crawling in guards for the next month." He stared at her but, under her piercing red glare, he put his knife back and they waited. She was the only one he'd easily back down to.
"Fine, as long as you stop red-glaring me." She quietly loosened her stance, trying to shift an uncomfortable cramp in her back. She sucked in her breath as a line of burning pain shot down her spine when she moved her arm, making her almost leap up and scrabble around to make it stop. She didn't know what could have possibly caused it. Surely not her arm. She grimaced and clenched her fist as she tried not to yell.
"Are you all right?" Dakelo asked her. She nodded.
"I'm fine," she lied through her teeth.
When it was clear that the soldier would not hear them, and all the children had got away, they turned and continued escaping. Despite the endless sea of rooftops, many were very unstable. Tales of people falling through roofs made travelling a delicate, but great skill. The two of them travelled towards the wall of the Lithina.
They had a quick, successful run, without a backward glance or a fall. Isildilia always had a lot more stamina than the others, so she had to keep waiting for them to catch up with her. She could never understand why; she even held her own racing against her older brothers, even from a young age.
For the whole run they remained in complete silence. It wasn't just for the sake of being left alone with their thoughts, but to make sure they didn't alert their position too anyone, guard or citizen alike. Their clamour on the roof was bad enough without giving a voice to the sounds, so they could be identified. They weren't the only ones who took advantage of the city at night and, around these parts, you couldn't trust anyone to not turn you in for a few copper pieces.
Soon they were upon the gates. Dakelo never liked approaching the gates, as the soldiers weren't as respectful of his presence being so near. They stopped a few houses short to catch their breath. Dakelo perched on the rooftop, watching the silhouette of soldiers patrolling above. Isildilia massaged her feet, which were blistering from her uncomfortable street-shoes. She grimaced as she ran her finger over a fresh cut above her toes.
Dakelo crouched back down beside her, biting on his thumb as he was in deep thought, still watching their movements carefully. He flinched when they heard a single gong. They both know that, for a brief thirty seconds, no one would be watching the gate.
"Right," he finally said, "the guards are changing, time to go." She could hear the bitterness in his voice; he hated Isildilia going back through. He always believed she should stay in the Thislik, where he thought she belonged.
Isildilia clambered down till she hit solid ground. She slipped on the wet ground, but Dakelo managed to steady her in time. Taking her ragged gown off, and stuffing it fast into her bag, they exchanged a quick farewell before she dashed through the briefly unguarded gate.
Stepping back through was like stepping into a new land. The sudden change of slim covered, decrepit building and floors, into one of cobbled stone and whitewashed, perfected buildings, never ceased to amaze her.
She could navigate the route she now took, blindfolded. The simple grid-like layout of the town at first would be confusing to anyone, but once she'd memorised the twists and turns she needed to make, it had become a simple task.
She stopped outside one building in particular. This building was that of a master blacksmith. It was a slender building, with a one-floor workshop attached to its side. The smell of dying coals still wafted from behind the closed door, and the air felt warmer walking next to it.
The sign over head screamed on its hinges in the smallest breeze, making her flinch in annoyance. It might as well have been screaming her arrival, sounding much louder in the silent night. Then there was a second creaking sound, but it was from further above.
"Oh dear, aren't we in trouble now?" She looked up to see a smug face staring down from the second floor window. This was all she needed.
"Rhinel, what do you think you are doing?" she hissed. "You'll wake Father up." Her brother looked more than amused.
"Oh will I?" he replied, raising his voice higher on purpose. "You know, I noticed you sneaking off earlier. Haven't you been warned about going down there?" His lips parted wider into an idiotic grin. Isildilia returned it with a scowl of her own.
"Rhinel, come down here and open the door," she demanded. Rhinel emitted one burst of laughter and ducked back inside. It was clear that he didn't intend to open it for her. She reached down and curled up her dress, so that it remained just below the knee, muttering and cursing to herself as she did so. Then, climbing onto the stack of barrels outside the workshop, she leapt onto the workshop roof. From there she could reach across stand on the sign, to reach the open window. This wasn't her first time taking this route. Rhinel hardly ever opened the door for her, but he always left the window open for her to get in. She wasn't sure if they thought it was amusing to see her scramble up the side of the building every time.
She sprang lightly onto the window ledge, perched, ready to pounce inside. Rhinel was waiting just outside the door to his room, which was the third one from her position. He laughed and disappeared inside. Isildilia jumped down and was just about to give chase when...
"Stop right there." A figure loomed in the doorway on her left, hiding in the shadows.
"Yes, Father." She obeyed, standing deadly still while waiting for Rhincale to speak.
"Isildilia, downstairs. And you lot-"He indicated to the small gap in the door "- I'll be having words with you tomorrow." The door firmly shut after those words, and all went quiet inside.
Isildilia followed Rhincale downstairs and into the kitchen. The walls of the kitchen were lined with different pans and utensils, many of which were never used and therefore had started to collect dust and rust. The walls and floors were stained with the soot from the fire, and the curtains hung lifelessly across a darkened window facing out into the courtyard.
She sat at the head of the table, legs and arms folded tightly whilst Rhincale paced around in thought. Isildilia counted that he walked back and forth twenty-seven times before he spoke.
He eventually pulled up the opposite chair, so he could face her. Isildilia returned the stare
he gave her, trying very hard not to portray any emotion in her eyes.
Rhincale sat forwards, pressing his fingertips together.
' "Isildilia, what am I going to do?" She knew she shouldn't answer that question; she'd made that mistake before. "We do not approve of you sneaking into that forsaken place, to associate with bandits and thieves! We moved on from that place and are better off without it. What would happen if you got caught, or worse?"
"Not even likely to happen. I can look after myself," she muttered. Rhincale slammed his fist on the table, making it slide a few inches towards her.
"Even the most skilful swordsman can be killed with the point of a blade!" Isildilia stared at him, but kept her mouth shut. Rhincale sighed. "We don't want to see you get hurt. I know you are angry with me, but can you see this from my point of view?' Isildilia could guess what he was seeing from his point of view; she felt herself glaring at him with those burning red eyes. She was trying to suppress it, but she guessed it was to no avail. She could always see the shudder people did when they saw that look, even in her family.
"For your punishment, you will spend the whole of tomorrow studying in the great library. You are to be there from dusk to dawn." Isildilia thought that was a fair punishment. She didn't mind studying normally, but for a whole day? Amongst people who had nothing better to do than to stare at her and whisper behind her back? It certainly was a punishment, but could be worse. Rhincale stood, as did she.
"It's late." Without anything else to say, he left. Isildilia waited for a while before she followed. Her room was on the top floor, above that of her brothers and parents. It was the only room on the top floor, with a single window facing out into the street. The walls of her room slanted towards the top, as she slept nearer to the roof, giving the room a dark, looming appearance. She tossed her bag and dress into the corner and threw herself onto her bed, which was set directly under the window. The night was still clear, and even without the use of candlelight, the room was illuminated in a pure glow. She lay on her front, with her face buried in the pillow; she was too worn out to even get dressed into her nightwear. She counted each deep breath she took, almost in a state of trance.
Just like earlier that night, she felt a sharp burning pain along her back. She quickly leapt to her feet and scrambled around with the lacing on her dress. She pulled it forward off her shoulders to expose her skin, then reached for the mirror near her desk, so that she could see what the problem was. But, before she could see, the moon was enveloped in cloud, plunging the room into darkness. She grumbled to herself as she tried to find her way back to her bed.
It didn't take long before her body and mind was carried off in the exhaustion of the day.