Crumblecity Tales

          “My Dearest Sister, Esmerela –

I write this, knowing well that it will not reach you. Know that I do not ask forgiveness.”

**One Year Ago**

                The girl opened her eyes with a gasp, breathing heavily. With a soundless moan, she scrabbled at her clothing, her night dress tearing slightly as she felt at where she had, moments before, felt a sliver to steel slice into her. There was no pain, but she felt the memory of it, as she lay there on the floor, breathing, seeing nothing, feeling nothing, trying to keep down her roiling stomach, unsuccessfully.

She didn’t want to, no, couldn’t move. Her thoughts swirled as she stared blankly at the floor. Was the killer still here? How did she survive? What about her parents? She should… she should warn them…

She pushed herself up, quietly, slowly, her arms wildly trembling, as she took stock. The hall was bright, so bright. She could clearly see- her mind slipped again. Frozen. She stared at the figures in the hall, sprawled across the floor. Two bodies, not ten feet from her, one larger than the other. She recognized her maid, clearly, but the other…

She found herself standing over the smaller body, looking down at it. She wasn’t sure when she moved. It was face-down, sitting in a large dark pool of crimson.

Her shaking hands grabbed the form, dipping into the blood, but she rolled the form over and saw… She had seen that face, a thousand times, in the mirror every morning. It looked… peaceful, was all she could think. She had never seen herself sleep.

She was sitting, again, in that dark hallway. Her feet and dress sitting in that slowly drying pool. She was still sitting like that when a head jauntily poked its head up the staircase. Spotting her, the tall figure slowly rounded the top of the staircase, stopping at the lower landing, nearly eye-level with the sitting girl.

Finally, she looked up, and locked eyes with the figure. Terror gripped her as-

“Ah. Hello… sister,” said the man. His large, circular glasses reflected the moonlight, as he dipped his head, his deep red feathers glinting. The daggers he had used to kill the girl were nowhere to be seen, but she sat there, locked in fear. “I… see. And I know,” he continued, gesturing to the deceased figures, sadly. His hands were rough, as most Kenkin were, but he had no feathers up his revealed forearms, his shirt rolled up at the sleeves, which gave him a rough, scarred appearance. He wore a simple cloth shirt and pants, tied with a sash at the waist, a sheath off to one side, all of it a dark maroon, almost the color of his feathers. His three-toed feet made no noise as he ascended the stairs, covered heavily in a similar fabric. He stopped at the top of the staircase, the girl just staring at him, unmoving. “I see you are… confused. But fear not, sister, for you are safe with the moon.”

He paused, cocking his head, before another female voice yelled up from the stairs. “Hey, Aido, brother, you done up there?”

As the other figure started up the stairs, Aido glanced at the girl and the same corpse, before putting a finger to his beak. “I am, Kira. I was checking to see if aught was amiss. All is well, for now.” The figure paused just below the top of the stairs, and the girl heard a sigh. “Please join the others outside, I wish to ensure our client’s needs are met.”

“Sure, boss brother. I’ll get the others, we’ll be out the garden entrance when you’re done,” the figure said, before retreating through the house.

Aido, face reflected in the moonlight, stared down at the girl, who hadn’t moved through the whole exchange. He signed at the girl, his fingers flicking quickly and confidently through the motions.

[You are not safe here. You have few paths. You may join us, if you wish for answers. None will hurt you. A promise.]

Shock. The girl couldn’t help it, so few had learned her language. Her hands moved through her own volition, shakily. [Who am I? What am I? What happened? Why did you-] her hands fell as tears joined them. Her vision grew blurry as the hot liquid fell down her cheeks, joining her- no, Kalia’s blood. She wasn’t…

A finger touched her chin, and she threw herself back, only to find a deep sadness on the Kenkin’s face, a single, rough hand outstretched. He curled the scarred fingers together, standing and retreating at the girl’s response, the sadness vanishing to neutrality.

“I have no answers for you, here. I will give you one hour to decide, but we must depart here, soon. We will give you safe bearing to Delatryss, and you may decide from there your next action,” he turned back towards the stairs, stepping down, before turning, “or you may find us there yourself, or not at all, if you choose. The moon does not dictate us, she just watches.” After a pause, the Kenkin glid down silently, vanishing into the darkness.

The girl was unsure of how much time had passed before she recollected herself enough to form thoughts. There was a hole in her brain, and it kept filling, just to spill out again. She stared at Kalia’s corpse, unmoving in the pool nearly dry, and finally stood and approached it again. Ruffling through the dress, she found the small, concealed pocket, and the key within. She held it up, the moon catching on its edges. She knew where the door was- she always had. Or… Kalia had. She wasn’t sure.

The girl stumbled down the stairs, leaving small slips of blood on the carpet and banister, before fumbling at the wall beneath the staircase. Finally, she found the small keyhole, bloody fingerprints across the wall, and inserted and turned, the clunk echoing down the silent hall. The fire had long since gone out, obscuring the room her parents had been in what felt like moments ago. She didn’t even glance down the hall as she opened the hidden door and stepped inside, pushing the heavy metal door aside.

She could see clearly in the pitch-black room, as though it was outlined with a whiteish light. She glanced around; the room was filled with… paper. Huge papers, diagrams, piles of writings and notes and tools and things she didn’t understand. It was a workshop, or something like it, but she couldn’t make heads nor tails of it. She ran her fingers along the edges of tabletop in the center, gingerly touching each diagram. This is what her parents had left h- Kalia? Diagrams?

Finally, something caught her eye, a strange, crystalline object, no longer than her palm, sitting in some strange device. As she eyed it, some odd light seemed to swirl in its center, a mix of colors she couldn’t describe. She touched it lightly – it was slightly warm to the touch, but otherwise unremarkable. Was this Kalia’s heritage? She picked it up out of the metal contraption that held it upright. It was light, and when she moved it, that strange light flickered through it again, but otherwise there was nothing special about it.

She suddenly felt tired – so tired. Was this it? Just… a rock? It was pretty, but… was this all Kalia was worth? The girl glanced about the room, nothing of note standing out. For some reason, all her fear was gone, just confusion swirled in her head. Who… what was she? Was she just… a ghost? Nothing left? A ghost. She pocketed the crystal.

Finally, feeling unsatisfied but unsure what to do, she left the room. Almost unbidden, she found herself stumbling upstairs and wandering into Kalia’s room. It seemed so familiar, but so… distant. The dim light made it feel alien, and she paused, uncertain. Still, she knew Kalia’s clothes fit her, and she changed quickly into something better for travel – the same clothing she had used for exercise days. Kalia’s parents had her practice with dueling swords often, though many thought it unladylike. Kalia had always liked it.

She put the more form-fitting, rougher clothes on, ensuring the strange crystal was tucked away in an internal pocket, and, stepping over Kalia and the maid, found herself walking out the rear garden entrance.

Two figures jumped up from their lounged position as she exited, the door clicking quietly closed behind her. She felt no fear. She felt, well, nothing.

“Ah. Wonderful, here is our extra member,” the girl jumped as Aido stepped from behind a bush nearby.

“That’s the daughter! We have to-“ Kira, the woman from earlier- a Drakken, crouched, drawing a dagger of her own.

“Calm, Kira. She is one of us, don’t you see it?” said the other figure, relaxing. He was a large figure, with a heavy upper body, thick arms and wide shoulders, but shorter legs. The plates that lined the top of his head and forearms reflected the moonlight, which was bright and full overhead. A Gendu, Kalia had learned it, the girl remembered. An uncommon race to see in Tlaria, hailing from the thick forests of the continent to the east. He was soft-spoken, quiet in the even quieter garden, and moved with surprising ease despite his size.

The woman, Kira, eyed the girl in the dark. “No, I don’t see how you see that, she looks just like a girl to me.”

“And you look blind,” said the Gendu, and Kira gasped.

“Raid- from you? How- how dare-“

“Stop, please,” Aido said with a sigh, “We are long since overdue our departure. And I-“ he paused, awkwardly, approaching the girl. “I am glad you could join us, sister.”

The girl didn’t retreat this time, and was instead surprised as he bowed slightly, more so when the other two figures did the same. She didn’t know what to say.

“We welcome you under clear skies. I hope your travels bring answers, sister,” Aido said, with a tone stated this was some form of ritual, or phrase. The girl found herself bowing. Her thoughts were still racing- all direction but no control. She was drowning, and felt tears forming again, her confusion working its way out of her head. If this was the best she got for answers, then…

“And what shall we call you, sister?” the Gendu man, Raid, asked quietly.

The girl paused, unsure, and like a single light through dark clouds, only one thing came to her. She signed something quickly, fumbling with her shaking hands, and she watched Aido’s face form a strange smile, and nod slightly in approval.

“We welcome you, Sister Ghost,” he said, bowing again.

Ghost followed the other three as they slipped into the thick, rolling woods, beginning their long trek to the city.

**One Year Later**

“And how many Serpentian are selling wares from eastern Tlaria?”

Ghost scowled at Aido, who sitting straight-backed in a chair, his dark red feathers reflecting warmly in the noon sun. They were sitting in a fairly busy café in Lower Evening Merchant Square, called so for the side of the mountain illuminated by the evening sun, six stories down from the wealthier Upper Evening Merchant Square. Ghost hated how busy and crowded it was down here, but it never seemed to bother her mentor. He idly scratched at his scarred hands as he sipped at his tea, piercing her with a gaze over his glasses.

She scowled at him again, thinking.

[Three. The one with light-blue scales nearer the entrance selling desert spinefruit, and there’s a pair selling leather clothing together after Second Street,] she signed, face deadpan, watching Aido’s reaction, which was none, as usual.

“Final answer? And stop making that face, it sticks that way.”

Ghost twisted her face up worse. [Yes, final answer.]

“Very good. I’m surprised you noticed the pair wasn’t competing, given they were a street away acting as competitors. Wonderful,” he said, leaning back to let the sun warm his feathers as Ghost relaxed. She hated this game, but it was very useful for her observational skills. She far preferred their sparring practice, however- she much more appreciated hitting things, even if it was her mentor, whom she never landed a scratch on.

“We’re done for today,” Aido said, interrupting her musing. “You can have the rest of the day off, but I want you to meet me at the top of Western Spires by moonrise,” he said, pushing back and placing some coins on the table, nodding to the waitress. “I have some business this afternoon, don’t get into trouble.”

As she watched Aido vanish into the crowd, she sipped lightly at her drink, a flowery tea with an overwhelming amount of honey, just as she liked it, wondering what to do. She felt lightly at the hidden pouch in her clothes, feeling the stone warm against her chest, wondering if she should keep it there.

She thought back to the incident last week as she stalked into an alley, quickly using the many cracks and crevices that frequented the buildings and walls of Lower Delatryss until she found herself overwatching Market Street. She mused as she watched the people move below, enjoying the warm afternoon breeze, which smelled of loam and late summer growth off of the forest sea.

She had been following a Ratkin, as they were notoriously jumpy, so she figured it would be decent practice. They were surprisingly well-dressed in green silks, a sign of nobility in the southwestern part of Tlaria, so she wanted to see where they were going. Simple, really- but she had underestimated the rain from that morning and its effect on some of the more worn stone of the city. She had slipped in a puddle on the thin windowsills she was creeping across and fallen into the space below with a wordless shriek.

That was it! That was all! She just slipped! She scowled in the present again before catching herself; maybe Aido was right about her doing it too often. However, that embarrassment had quickly turned to terror as she bounced painfully off the stones and fell off the city. The space below opened, the stone having cracked and fallen away with age, revealing a sheer cliff face below. As she rolled down, she scrabbled to find purchase, claws finding no purchase against the rain-slicked stone and instead bounced painfully again before finding herself in the air.

She had one moment to gasp as she flailed- she could only see the green, and the mountain, looming above her. Wind whipped as she gained speed, as her mind raced. She saw the streets far below, the lowest streets of Delatryss, but she had been in the upper reaches on the flat face of the mountain. There was nothing she could reach as she fell, spiraling in the air. She saw the mountain whipping past and could hear nothing as the wind filled her ears.

I die, again, she thought, as she watched the street approach, as a brilliant light flashed. She felt a searing heat near her heart, and the world lurched around her. She vomited, finding herself, crouched, wiping her mouth. She looked around wildly, her brain still catching up to the movement shift- everything felt like it was still whirling about her, but she saw everyone staring at her.

“Are you okay, miss?” someone asked, but she couldn’t make out the face in her swimming vision. “There was a flash…”

She could hear the murmuring around her, as she tried to stand and stumbled. Finally, she tried to walk off quickly as others asked about her, each step becoming surer.

Ghost lost them quickly in the crowd soon after but couldn’t catch her breath, the burning on her chest unceasing, a strange smell in the air. She felt at it and gasped as she felt at a hole in her clothes- the source of the burning smell- blackened and charred, her chest already starting to bubble from the heat as she touched the searing area gently. The crystal had burned through her hidden pocket and fallen to where they were tucked into her pants, just warm.

Back in the present, Ghost mused idly, watching the forest turn auburn colors in the orange, dipping sun. She still wasn’t sure what happened, but obviously the crystal had done something. She had tossed away the burned clothes, and still had not told Aido, even a week later. More than once the topic had almost come up, but she felt against it. Despite everything he’d done for her this last year, he had still…

An uneasy feeling washed over the Foxen, and Ghosty surveyed the street before her eyes met with a, well, eye. She tilted her head at the massive eyeball, sitting atop slimy, thick meaty stalks, in the middle of Market Street. The other people on the street flowed around it, as though they didn’t even see the horror in their midst. She stared at it, the uncomfortable feeling slithering up her back as she realized it was staring back at her. Jumping up, she backed away from the edge of the rooftop, watching with horror as it shifted and tilted to keep her in sight, before she turned and fled.

Scurrying along back alleys, she couldn’t shake the feeling it was still staring at her, as she worked her way up the city to the towers to meet with Aido.

—–

“Hmm?” Sammarria mumbled, enjoying a fried meat pocket she had bought from her new favorite stand, today, at least. She tried a new one every day and was on the fourth. Street food was her weakness. “Something up, Vissero?” she eyed her companion eye. Information passed between their bond as he stared at her, a gentle itch in Sammarria’s mind, and her eyes widened. She quickly finished the meat pocket, making painful noises as she burnt her tongue, before she slipped off through the crowd, parting around her without notice.