Morning fog rolled through the Dunlowe District, veiling the streets in a damp hush. Rainwater filled the gutters, swirling with mud. The air reeked of coal smoke and wet leather.
Locke moved carefuly to make sure he wasn't seen so easily. Not loitering, not rushing, he was just there. He slipped between carts and shops with his head low. He passed a notice board nailed to a leaning post. Several papers flapped, damp at the edges. One read:
│"REPORT ALL VANISHINGS IMMEDIATELY. Do not engage Suspected Witnesses. Keep indoors on Nights of Unnatural Light."
Locke narrowed his eyes at the sign, thinking back on how often he'd seen the moon look different. Pale blue light with a ring of ash. He didn't stare for long, people noticed when you lingered.
Two people argued at a fruit stall nearby. Locke lingered near the edge of the stall with his back against the wall.
Man: "...i'm serious! It was last night, something was right here, it was just... standing still."
Woman:"You're not roaming the streets drunk again, are you?"
Man: "Don't do that. Don't make it a joke.
Woman: "I'm not. I'm just tired of this, every week it's something ever since she died you..."
While their voices sharpened, Locke slipped forward. His hand moved quick and quiet, lifting an apple from the stall without so much as a glance from either man. By the time the fruit met his pocket, he was already gone down the street.
Locke had learned to slip away soon after finishing his daily chores at the orphanage. It was his little freedom, always on the lookout for anything he could swipe, scavenge or earn a few coins. Information wasn't free, but was easy to obtain by listening around, atleast for Locke.
Biting down on the apple, Locke moved past a shadowed corner. A cat darted across his path, its back arched, tail twitching. Locke didn't react, but offered it the rest of the apple, which it sniffed, hissed at, and ignored.
He knelt by a drain grating near the corner. With a stick he grabbed from the dead trees, he started feeling around the drain, hoping that someone had dropped a coin in the slots. Nothing. Just some mud and water. He wiped his hand on the brick wall of the shop next to him.
Passing a low archway, he paused by a bakery. The smell of fresh bread came from within. He checked the usual crack under the stone for some thrown out bread. There was none today.
He took a seat on an old crate behind a fishmonger's stall. Smoke from cooking oil drifted past as a vendor shouted prices. Locke watched boots splash through puddles.
A drunk sat slouched nearby, coat soaked at the edges, hands cupped around a dented tin flask. He just stared at the alley like he was waiting for something to happen.
Locke being curious stared at him for too long. Then the man muttered, not directly to Locke, but it was percieved that way.
Drunk Man: "..Used to be a girl here who sold soup, right by this spot. Cheap stuff. Burned your tongue, but it was hot. That was the point."
The man took a drink out of the flask.
Drunk Man: "Too many gaurds lately. All walking like they got somewhere to be."
A pause.
Drunk Man: "...Oh, that's right, they don't"
Locke was confused, even trying to understand the man was hard. In fact he didn't understand what the man was trying to even convey.
Locke stood after a minute and then, a coin hit the cobble near his foot.
He glanced up. An old man who looked far too well dressed to be in this area was walking past the corner. Locke stared at him, then pocketed the coin without a word.
He wandered again. Up past a burning barrel where a few older teens warmed their hands. They glanced at him and narrowed their eyes. Unbothered Locke walked past them. He ducked under a small old bridge that was growing moss and went down an alley behind an abandoned building.
Locke knew this area was potentially dangerous, but he felt that it was better than sitting still at the orphanage. Plus, he was extremely bored.
The alley was narrow, damp, and cluttered with broken crates and glass. A pipe above him hissed steam. Rats scurried behind a stack of old bricks, and the scent of something sour hung in the air.
After realizing there was nothing to be gained from this area, Locke turned to leave, but then he stopped.
Voices. Low. Just ahead, around the corner.
Man 1: "...moved it before sunrise. Quiet enough to avoid trouble."
Man 2: "Didn't expect the old woman at the orphanage to want full coin up front."
Man 1: "She's covering her own skin. No trust in this business."
Man 2: "The [Quiet Hand] got their fingers in this, but the place ain't tight. More like chaos held together by fear and silence."
Man 1: "Guards come and go, too many with dirty hands to care."
Man 2: "Doesn't matter, though. We're getting paid. That's all that counts."
Locke didn't know who the [QuietHand] were but when they mentioned the old woman at the orphanage, something clicked. That was the only orphanage nearby. The thought hit him hard. What if it was them?
His stomach twisted. That was enough.
He bolted, slipping between carts and sloshing through the muddy street. A butcher looked up from his crates as Locke blew past, frowning but saying nothing. Night was aproaching.
He turned a corner too fast. His foot caught a loose stone and he hit the ground hard, arms sinking into a shallow puddle. Cold water soaked his sleeves, and his knee scraped raw against the cobbles. For a moment, tears welled up suddenly, hot and sharp, but before they could fall, Locke pressed his sleeve against his cheek, wiping them away. His hands trembled beneath him as he forced himself up brimming with anger.
The streets narrowed. The air thickened with chimney smoke and rot. He knew the way by heart. Past the cracked wall, over the drainpipe, down the alley that always reeked.
The orphanage was quiet as usual. Dust floated throughout the building and the setting sunlight broke through the wooden shutters. Bram was laying down. Niko was sweeping the main room, though more dust was being stirred than cleaned, and Rin was sitting on the floor, tying string together to form a bracelet.
The front door slammed open.
Locke panting hard with wide eyes stumbled into the room. Nearly hitting Niko with the door at full force.
Locke: "Where's the old lady?"
Niko was too lost in thought to answer. Bram's voice cut in, calm but wary.
Bram: "She left. After you did."
Locke: "Did she say where?"
Locke's mind raced. I knew it. They were talking about her.
Bram: "No. (brow furrowed) Did something happen?
Locke: "She's gonna sell us."
Bram: "Hold on, what are you talking about? How do you know?"
Out of everyone in the room, only Bram and Locke really understood what that means.
They weren't being punished or left behind.
They were being traded. like objects.
Bram's eyes darkened.
Bram: "We have to get out of here. Now."
Rin looked up with wide eyes tugging on Bram's shirt
Rin: "Outside... Scary."
Niko blinked slowly, still half in his own world... He said nothing, just holding his broom while listening,
lost in thought, like always.
Locke:"Where would we go?"
Without a word, Bram knelt by the worn floorboard in the corner of the room. His fingers pried at the edges, lifting it just enough to reveal a tightly rolled piece of paper hidden beneath.
Bram: "We can head for..."
Locke's eyes widened.
Locke: "How... did you get your hands on a map? "
Bram: "I stole it from some rich guy I saw"
Locke: (mumbling) "That's ironic considering you would get mad at me for stealing food.
Anyway, were you planning on leaving before all of this? You thought this far ahead, and were ready?"
Bram: "That's given. I figured she'd toss us out the moment she stopped getting paid for us"
Locke agreed in his head. He was very sharp but sometimes slow to act on his thoughts, which could be seen as his weakness.
Bram unrolled the fragile map, his finger tracing a path toward the capital of the Verdanthal Empire, [Atoria] . He rolled the map back up and snapped.
Bram: "Let's g-"
Three cold shadows filled the doorway. Three people stood there, their black coats swallowing the dim light, gloves covering their hands. Their faces were hidden behind dark hand shaped masks.
Behind them, the old lady limping walked forward eyes cold.
Bram froze, even Niko who is usually unbothered was scared.
The room fell deathly quiet.