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CLANDESTINE

ascension

By Daisy Andrievas Published 6 years ago 8 min read

🝔— 1 —🝔

There is an uncertain feeling that incited inside me while I watched the clouds above hang heavy, gray, and looming. I already smelled the pungent scent of fresh mud in my nose.

Miss Meeds insisted I accompany her on a trip to the market to acquire last minute necessities, swearing up and down that rain is far from falling, but simply the sun refused to shine today. How reassuring I thought it was to know even the sun itself has days in which it feels as weary as I did.

Miss Meeds is a heavy set, middle aged woman who's as boisterous as this noisy market crowd. With a messy head toppled of copper curls, she bustled merchant to merchant, buying food and drink to stock Madam's kitchen in which she worked; things people who came in are too drunk to taste.

I didn't hear most of what she said as I found myself dozed off into the solemn gray. The walls that surround all of Esolam, reaching so high, I forget if there was ever any blue between it and the bleak clouds to begin with. Only thing to break between them is the occasional flock of black birds. If they are any other color, it is lost in the distance between the sky and the world below.

The great King Arden's Wall of Deliverance.

What a hoax

Built to keep the world's travesties out and the peace for people in. It's length incomprehensible spanning ten times the height of the castle, if not more. They say it took most of his lifespan to achieve, but is his greatest of legacies.

"Miss Meeds," I started. "The walls—do you ever wonder how high they are?"

Unheard, my voice was buried in the rowdiness, but I continued," Could one climb it? Surely it is improbable, perhaps it would take a lifetime, but certainly not impossible, right?"

"What's that deary?" Meeds soon interjected while she still socialized with the fruit merchant and dropped coins into his hands. "Speaking to yourself again, are we?"

"Could one climb the wall?" I repeated and ignored her banter. Miss Meeds' face was bare and mouth hinged shut as she gazed upon the massive enclosure. Her lips clamped tighter and tighter, practically nonexistent. "It's not like you to withhold secrets, Miss Meeds."

"It's not a secret, deary," She said. "No one comes in. No one goes out. Simple as common knowledge that'd you'd do well to follow!"

After she briskly answered, Miss Meeds swiftly made her way to the next shop, but that didn't stop me as my mind went into overdrive.

No one goes out?

I fixated on that sentence like a leech that gorged on your blood after falling into one of the creeks in Pria.

"Aye, but what's with the sudden interest in the wall? It's not what you need to be fearing, it's that damned Wilds you're so keen on." Meeds said as she surveyed semellon, a bulbous little yellow fruit with spikes decorated all around it, but on the inside ridiculously sweet and soft. "Bless King Arden for that wall. It keeps us safe! But, those Wilds are going to get you killed, or worse—you'll be made Acediant."

"You don't know what it's like in there, Miss Meeds," I said. "It's different."

I had every right to the Wilds as much as I did the market. As I did Pria or Donham. Who truly can say they owned land? A mere piece of paper is nothing to me. Just as it meant nothing to the Wilds. Especially when that ridiculous slip of paper gives right to those who lack the means to hunt enough for the mouths of us all. While the sovereign people keep their bellies fat and happy, we in the commons are left starving and fighting off their scraps. If you've even got the coin to afford scraps.

Not to mention, the Wilds have kept me off the floor of Madam's for as long as I can remember, but I doubt a lifetime will ever be long enough to forget. Being more competent than palace thugs, I procured ganoriph meat and fur to sell and pay Madam, rather than the coin I earn with my body as one of her ladies.

And I refused to stop.

"I'd rather risk my life, than my soul."

The cracked sound of sorrow in my voice called to Miss Meeds' eyes. They flickered up to mine, but unable to bare their weight in addition to my own, my eyes wandered far off and beyond in the direction of the Higarri Wilds.

Everyone in the town feared the Wilds too much to ever dare break the law of passing into them—except me. Fearing everything that is unknown to them kept them out more than their morals and desire to abide by rules. But I feared nothing in the Wilds. There were far more terrifying things to be feared in town.

"It's simpler out there. No money. No titles. It's only—staying alive."

"But how long will it last?"

Although Miss Meeds' statement hurt, I knew it was of kind sentiments and concern. If it wasn't for Miss Meeds, I wouldn't have stayed alive thus far.

"Come, deary. Best be on our way. Let's not test our luck with Madam's temper today."

The crowd in the market had gotten no calmer. Busy bodies piled in packs, a constant flow of people in every direction. People began to grow rowdy. Armor on several guards clattered loudly and were getting closer. They were in pursuit, but of who?

I heard people who groaned and cursed out to disrespectful pushing and hollering. If it wasn't for a face being only inches from mine, I would have never seen a scrawny fellow who elbowed his way through the cracks and divots of people in the market. He passed Miss Meeds, making her lose her balance. I give Miss Meeds a hand. "Are you alright?"

"That little ass nicked my pouch!" Miss Meeds exclaimed. "Madam will have my head this time for sure!"

I wasted no time and took pursuit toward the swindler! Keeping eyes locked on his black cloak was like a terrible game of peek-a-boo. He dashed and ducked around people until I snatched the cloth of his hood in my hand, and in quick response, he shoved me forcefully into a merchant's cart.

I don't know how long I was out until I finally heard the faint whispers of Miss Meeds familiar voice calling my name. I laid on the cobblestone amongst various fruits and vegetables. Her blurry ginger curls broke through black. She hovered above me along with two other men. One bearded and looked weary and clothed in a dirty apron I assumed was once white. I gathered it was the merchant; probably more concerned with the product I squashed than my well being. The other, whose polished armor and vivid pale blonde hair breached through the divide of Miss Meeds and the merchant, stared down at me as well. It was a soldier.

It was Beau.

I groaned at the sight of him.

Miss Meeds exhaled heavily. "Don't play with my poor heart like that, deary! Started having me worry you were dead!"

"I shall call on the doctor." The merchant said, but I protested rapturously and shot up from the bed of herbage.

"Careful, now. You shouldn't be moving so quickly,” Miss Meeds said.

"Please, don't trouble yourself any further, sir. I am deeply sorry for the damage." I pleaded. The merchant nodded and reluctantly pushed his cart down the market.

"You should see the doctor." Miss Meeds insisted.

"I'm fine."

"You're bleeding," said Beau.

My eyes snapped to his and practically shot daggers.

"Seeing as your eyes function, you'd do well to use them to do your job." I spat.

"I never! Mind-your-mouth!" Miss Meeds growled. "Forgive the poor girl, she seems to have hit her head a little too hard, right?"

I said nothing and my silence earned me a swift crack against my head.

"Right?" She persisted.

"Not to worry. I am quite familiar with her temper," Beau teased. Miss Meeds cheeks flushed and my jaw stiffened. As we glared at one another, the silence put a grin on his smug face. I could tell he was pleased with the reaction he obtained from me. "Seems she's quite herself."

"Thank you for your patience, sir." Miss Meeds said and then leered at me expectantly. "Go on and thank the good man, too!"

I refused to do such a blasphemous thing.

"What an outrageous request! What is there to thank? It's our heads on the line because they couldn't catch one measly thief. Not his. Ours!"

"My sincerest condolences, ma'am." He said bowing his head softly to Miss Meeds. "Though I have no coin on my person, let me express my apologies by inviting you to the ninety-eighth annual deliverance commemoration at the palace."

"Oh, Heavens!" Miss Meeds bolstered with her hand light on her chest. "We're—"

"Busy." I interrupted. My intolerance was met with another smack to the back of my head and another wince of pain from me.

"We're delighted to attend." Miss Meeds finished.

"As am I." His eyes found me again, but I had nothing further to say to him.

"Mention the name 'Beau Innes' to the guards and they'll be sure to escort you in." He tipped his head to Miss Meeds and eventually strolled out of our line of sight.

"That mouth of yours will get you in a world of hurt one of these days." She stormed off with steam that practically bursted out of her ears.

"More than actually believing we'll be allowed into that party?" I asked, following behind her. "We don't belong there!"

"There's no law against us going. We were invited! Not like you care about where you're allowed to go. You frill about those Wilds when you don't belong there!" Miss Meeds huffed. " And I didn't risk my neck getting the Madam to let me keep you just for you to get yourself killed in the Wilds."

"I didn't ask you to!" I hollered loud enough to stop her stomping. Loud enough for people's rubbernecks to turn. And loud enough to ruddy my face, prickle my eyes, and trap a lump of air in my throat. "I didn't ask you to save me."

I could tell she was rattled. It was rare that Miss Meeds was silent and didn't have a piece of mind to share, I suppose it's where I got it from, but I think she knew silence hurt more.

"I best be getting back to Madam's." Miss Meeds said and left without another word spoken.

fantasy

About the Creator

Daisy Andrievas

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