“What’s up?” Hector asked, crossing his arms. “Though I will say; I’ve been meaning to talk to you as well.” Hector took a step back. A loose piece of cobblestone crumbled under his sandals as he shifted his weight.
Lincoln squinted and lowered his head. Was he confused why he’d asked? Hector shook his head. The boy hadn’t exactly had the best poker face in the past few days. Something was wrong, that much was obvious.
“Let’s talk about your thing first. Mine can wait a little longer,” Hector said. There was no point bringing up something Lincoln might ask, anyway. Perhaps Hector could finally learn why his friend was so obsessed with the farm. More shouts came from the other side of the fence as drunks rambled at each other.
“Alright,” Lincoln said, “but not here.” He looked over his shoulder, towards the fence. Was someone waiting on the other side? More drunk shouts came from the street, followed by a thud and what sounded like someone dropping to the ground. Lincoln turned and walked towards the gate, glancing back over his shoulder to Hector. “Are you coming?”
I hope someone didn’t just get knocked out right in front of the house. It will be a pain if I have to drag someone down the street again. It is far too early for this nonsense.
Hector glanced behind him to the kitchen window. There Mirae stood, mallet in hand. He waved at her and mouthed, be back soon. She nodded and mouthed be careful.
Walking towards the gate, Hector gestured for Lincoln to continue. The boy pulled the old gate open with a creak. A bolt at the side of the gate popped and metal clattered to the dirt. “Was that important?” Lincoln asked, gesturing to the bolt.
Hector sighed. Perhaps he should have fixed the gate yesterday. But Hector shook his head and urged Lincoln through. He pulled up the now lopsided gate—barely even serving its function. He’d definitely fix it when he got back.
On the side of the road, a few feet away from Hector, was a homeless man. His face was gaunt, cheekbones on full display. The man hadn’t had a good meal in a while. Hector stepped over to him. The smell of alcohol immediately assaulted his enhanced senses. How did he have the money to drink, yet couldn’t eat?
Hector glanced around. Whoever had done this was long gone. “Can you help me with him?” Hector asked Lincoln, gesturing to the man. “I’d rather him not wake up next to my house.”
Or anywhere near Mirae.
Lincoln rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You are far too kind for your own good. We should just leave him,” he said, dragging his feet along the cobblestone. Loose rock kicked up by him bounced off the man’s body.
“I don’t see how me not wanting him in front of my house is kind. But alright.” Hector bent down, grabbing the man by his ankles, while Lincoln grabbed the man by the wrists. The two of them lifted him with relative ease—they were cultivators and he was emaciated. Hector could have done it alone. But it was quicker this way. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
“Not here,” Lincoln said. What was with all the secrets? People walked by, many frowning as they watched the two of them lug the man through the streets. Lincoln tightened his lips and whistled. “So where are we dumping this guy?”
Somewhere nice to wake up would be good.
Hector frowned, contemplating his options. He glanced at the people who watched him, giving them a smile. Where would be a good place to leave him? Not that there was a good place in the slums—but somewhere he would be moderately comfortable.
The two continued to walk down the street until they came to an alley. It was dry and seemed to get very little foot traffic. The man wouldn’t be disturbed here. “Let’s place him here.” With a plop, they slumped the man onto the ground. Hector adjusted him so that his head was leaning against the wall, but he still fell to the side. That would not be a comfortable sleep.
“I just had a thought. Did we even check if he’s alive?”
Hector shook his head. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter too much. If he was, there wasn’t much either of them could do about it. The street cleaner would pick him up when they came by. Though, at the back of his mind, Hector could hear Mirae’s voice telling him to do more.
Bending down next to the man, raising a hand and resting his two fingers on his neck, Hector checked for a pulse. A faint heartbeat replied. “He’s good,” Hector said, getting back to his feet. “Shall we?” He gestured for Lincoln to carry on walking.
The two of them left the man and made their way back into the disarray of the main streets. Houses too old to stand under their own weight leaned to the side. The building would topple someday soon, and the street cleaners would have a busy day. Hector glanced toward the sky as the warmth of the sun washed over his face. His skin prickled with satisfaction. At least they still had the sun.
Hector glanced at Lincoln from the corner of his eye. “Did your mom get many customers yesterday?” The answer was obvious, but if she was busy, then it would have been really bad.
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Lincoln nodded, then shook his head. “You should have seen it. The wounds I saw yesterday, I’d never seen anything like it. My mom even had to call for help from her two apprentices. I think every healer in the slum was making money.” Lincoln’s lips wobbled. It was as if he wanted to smile, but at least he had the good sense not to look too happy at the suffering of others.
“That’s horrible. I can’t imagine how many people lost their lives yesterday,” Hector said, stepping to the side. An old woman pushing a cart of carvings trundled by. She gave him a smile, her whole body shaking as she walked. “Who knows how many people lost family?”
“Yeah, I wonder where those things even came from,” Lincoln said, bringing a finger to his lip. “They looked nothing like a mana beast, and they just appeared inside the city. It was as if they came out of thin air.”
Almost as if they were summoned. But that would take a crazy amount of mana, and why would anyone even want that?
“Do you think it has anything to do with that tentacle guy?” Hector asked. “The one that was fighting the Phoenix Company initiate.”
“Could do.” Lincoln nodded as they turned down a side street. Where was he taking him? “I mean, he had tentacles on his back. The creatures did too, so they might be connected.”
“I think it’s more than a might. But I wonder how.”
Lincoln shrugged. Their sandals clattered rhythmically on the cobblestone as they continued to walk. The streets were becoming less familiar now. But Hector recognised them. If he continued down this road, he would end up in the Hay quarter—not the best name. It was the area of the slums that was responsible for farming, and it was huge.
“Lincoln, where are we going?” Hector asked. On the other side of the street, two Farmhands, dressed in their usual green robes, talked to a vendor. They didn’t have a look of arrogance as they talked to the man, and seemed to be getting on well. Hammond—the Farmhand that had attacked Delworth—and his friends were definitely not normal.
How had they already gained cultivation? These two farmhands didn’t have any. Lincoln smiled at him. “Trust me. I know what you are thinking. But I’m not going to drag you to rob a farm. I just want to show you something.”
Hector nodded. What could he have to show him in the Hay quarter that didn’t have to do with trying to rob a farm? Hector wanted to turn around, but after what happened yesterday, he owed Lincoln. No matter what Mirae said; this reality was the one that played out. So, he had to live with its consequences.
The two continued to walk. The tapping on cobblestones became the slapping of dirt. Hector hadn’t been to the Hay quarter before. He’d never needed to. The houses became smaller as they left the Sirius quarter. They also spread out much more. Gardens became more frequent, and Hector even spotted a few chickens clucking around people’s front yards.
They could afford animals around here. Lincoln gave Hector a knowing smile. Was this even considered part of the slums? Hector doubted it. He glanced around, spotting a couple of guards walking down the street. He lowered his gaze. They were not in the slum. Guards rarely patrolled the slums like this.
The guards eyed the two of them. Hector tensed. Would they stop them? The scratching of their feet on the dirt continued. The guards continued. Lincoln chuckled once they were out of earshot, slapping Hector on the back.
“They look a lot scarier when they aren’t being torn apart by those creatures,” Lincoln said. He grinned, throwing a look over his shoulders. His lips tightened, and he shook his head. “It was crazy, and things have just gotten worse.”
“Worse? How do you mean?” Hector asked. He glanced over his shoulder, squinting against the sunlight. The guards continued to walk down the dirt path.
“Yeah. The attack yesterday seems to have them rattled.”
“The guards?” Hector asked, raising an eyebrow. Had they suffered that much?
Lincoln nodded. “I hear they are rounding up people that were near the center of the festival.”
“How are they doing that?” Hector asked. “And wouldn’t that mean that they would be looking for us, too?”
“Hey, it’s what I heard. I didn’t say it was true.” The two of them turned onto a side path. The trees had become more numerous now. They lined the path, choking it, their leaves letting through dappled sunlight. “Besides,” Lincoln continued, “we weren’t anywhere near the center. Not really.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Hector said. Glancing up at the canopy, he took a moment to appreciate its colours. The Sirius quarter didn’t have trees—not ones this big, anyway. He’d need to take some time to visit the Hay quarter more in the future.
Mirae would probably love it around here.
To the side of the path were white and pink flowers. The wind rustled them gently, carrying an aroma that Hector rather liked. He had an urge to stop and pick one, but thought better of it. Mirae would just tell him he was harming the flowers.
He continued to walk, craning his neck. Past a particularly old-looking tree, what looked like a small patch of purple coated the ground. Hector reached to his neck, grabbing his necklace. How had he not been here before?
“Hey, Lincoln, look at those,” Hector said, pointing to the patch of flowers just past the trees.
Lincoln glanced over and nodded. He didn’t pause, continuing to march on. “They’re nice,” he said, glancing back at Hector. A coy smile came to his lips. “What, do you like flowers now or something?”
Sighing, Hector dropped his hand. It wasn’t like he hated flowers, but he wouldn’t want any for himself. Though, something about those flowers just struck a chord with him. Mirae would understand. “Nah, I was just thinking my sister would like them.”
Hector slowed his pace as Lincoln continued. “Lincoln, can I say something?”
The boy glanced over his shoulder and frowned. “Is something wrong? Don’t tell me that our little walk has got you emotional.”
Nah, I just feel like I would be sweeping this under the rug if I didn’t say it.
“No,” Hector said, shaking his head. He glanced off to the side, taking a moment to organise his thoughts. A bird flew by, chirping as it darted through the trees. Hector turned back to Lincoln. “I wanted to apologise for what I put you through yesterday.”
Lincoln stopped, smiling as he turned to Hector. “Where is this coming from? Ah, you mean… it’s fine, trust me.”
Hector raised an eyebrow. Taking a step closer, he searched Lincoln’s face for a trace of a lie. He found nothing. “Really,” Hector said, brushing off a fallen leaf on his head. Hector looked up, sunlight blinding him for a second. He turned back to Lincoln. “If I were in your shoes, I would be fuming.”
Lincoln laughed and turned back around, waving for Hector to follow. “I was, but I’m over it now. Besides, you’re gonna pay me back?”
“I am?”
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Mini Update: I'm not sure if anyone reads this, but I've been enjoying the new scene structure I have been using for the latest chapters. The pace has increased, and I haven't had to change my way of writing much. So look out for that in about 18 chapters. Thanks for being on this journey with me.