The Wardens of Marialis were established in the third year of the current dynasty to provide a force answering to the city rather than to the crown. The charter specifies seven obligations. The seventh is the shortest:
To stand between the people of this city and whatever threatens them, regardless of the source.
In practice, the Wardens have never been independent of the crown, the guilds, or any power sufficiently organized to make demands. The charter remains on file. It has not been amended. It is not often read.
— The Annals of Marialis, Volume III: Institutions and Governance.
Thirty years. I gave thirty years of my life to this damned city. There were times I worked three days straight without sleep in that cursed place, and still the treatment I received never went beyond that of a glorified errand boy, while those preening fools who stroll around with paper and pen in hand became the king’s voice. Someone has to stand against them eventually.
Those were the thoughts running through Rhoren’s mind as he lay in bed, wrapped in bandages and staring up at the ceiling, feeling as though he were suffocating despite the pleasant weather outside. The small infirmary at the Wardens’ station was empty but for him—and even if it hadn’t been, that would have been more of a problem for the others than for Rhoren himself. Chirgueon’s order to rest had done nothing to calm him; if anything, it had only made him more restless. His thoughts piled up inside his head, yet there was nowhere for them to go in this narrow bed he barely fit into, and the idea of being stuck here until tomorrow was something he still hadn’t accepted. Yet worse than all of that was the fact that he hadn’t had any tobacco in hours.
“Get well soon, Captain,” came a voice from the doorway.
Rhoren didn’t bother turning his head. He knew the owner of that voice well enough to recognize him without looking—far too well. Tarr’en walked slowly to the bedside but didn’t stop there, continuing on toward the window instead. “I hear you’re not going to die,” he said, glancing around the room as he spoke. “They say you’ll be out tomorrow.”
Rhoren answered with nothing more than a low grunt.
Leaning back against the window frame, Tarr’en turned to face him. “We cornered them a few blocks away, but they managed to slip through. Took a fair number of our men with them too. Still, they won’t be able to leave the city. Sooner or later—”
“The girl?” Rhoren cut in, the anger in his voice unmistakable.
Tarr’en paused for a brief moment before answering. “She wasn’t with them. She’d escaped much earlier.”
“The girl who fell with me?” Rhoren pressed, his tone unchanged.
That Tarr'en hadn’t expected. He looked at him for a few seconds before answering. “Well… by the time we got there, she was already dead.”
“Her family?”
Tarr’en hesitated again, fumbling for a moment before replying. “The girl who died… I don’t think she had anyone.”
Rhoren let out a low grunt of acknowledgement, then turned his head toward the wall and said nothing more. Tarr’en wasn’t entirely sure what had just passed between them. Rhoren hadn’t asked about the girl who escaped, nor about the men they had lost. Probably took a harder hit than it looks, he thought to himself. Then he turned and headed for the door.
“We’ve got patrols at the exits and the docks. It won’t take long,” he said, and just before stepping out, he added, “Once your head’s back in place, I expect you to rejoin us.”
This time Rhoren didn’t even grunt. He simply turned his gaze back toward the window. He needed to get out of here as soon as possible and find some tobacco.
◈◈◈
When Kaelin opened her eyes in the unfamiliar room, a brief confusion washed over her as she tried to understand where she was, and it took her a few seconds to piece it together. The moment of relief that followed didn’t last long, however, because the rest of her memories came flooding back almost immediately—memories she would likely never be able to forget.
The light slipping through the curtain had taken on a reddish hue, making her hair glow like fire. The sun was setting. For a moment she couldn’t believe she had slept until this hour, yet at the same time barely a day had passed since she had left home to go to the Red Lantern. The thought that so much could happen in a single day was almost impossible to grasp.
As she pushed herself upright, her gaze fell on the wooden tray resting on the table by the window. A plate sat on it, covered with a lid, and beside it was a piece of cloth wrapped around what was likely bread.
The moment she tried to stand, the weakness in her legs forced her back onto the bed, and only then did the pain from the wound in her foot make itself properly known. Still, she rose again slowly and made her way toward the table, and as her muscles began adjusting to movement once more, the pain seemed to ease slightly.
Holding onto the chair, she lifted the lid from the tray. The stew beneath it had already cooled, but its smell still lingered in the air. When she touched the cloth, she could tell without opening it that there was bread inside.
The smell was inviting, yet Kaelin felt no real desire to eat—nor for anything else. Aside from the pain, her body felt strangely numb, and her mind, despite what must have been twelve hours of sleep, still refused to fully clear, leaving her with the odd sensation of looking at the world through glass, as though she were submerged in water.
As she hesitated between sitting down or remaining standing, the evening light filtering through the curtain pulled her into her thoughts once more. The more she tried to understand what she had been dragged into, and what she was supposed to do now, the deeper those thoughts seemed to pull her.
The sound of footsteps in the corridor finally broke through. She turned toward the door almost instinctively, and the realization that she was alone in the room brought back the memory of the opposite room—and of that morning.
Are they still there? she wondered.
More importantly… are they alright?
After a few unsteady steps that quickly became more stable as her body adjusted, she reached the door and stepped into the corridor, closing it behind her. She reached for the handle of the opposite room, but hesitation made her pull her hand back at the last moment.
The fear of being a burden still held her back. And yet, just as strongly, she felt drawn to them. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced since her mother’s death—something close to what she had felt in Mayra’s arms: a sense of completeness, and above all, safety.
She took a deep breath. Her life had already changed completely, whether she accepted it or not, and up until now she had still been acting as though she could somehow return to what it had been before. But was there anything left to return to?
She didn’t want to live hesitating anymore. Reaching for the handle again, she was about to open the door when a voice came from inside. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
The door opened.
“Oh,” Tivver said, clearly surprised to see her. After a brief pause, he added, “Feeling better?”
“Uhm… sure,” Kaelin answered, uncertain. “I… I don’t know.”
When she looked up, she realized the others were gathered around the table, all looking at her. Tivver studied her for a moment, then slipped back into his usual tone. “Beer or wine?”
Kaelin turned to him, clearly not processing the question. “Uhm… what?”
“Since going downstairs isn’t exactly wise right now, I’m heading down to grab drinks. Harrik tends to enjoy seeing me the most,” he said with a sly grin, then repeated, “Beer or wine?”
“Beer,” Kaelin said without thinking, her discomfort still obvious.
“Thought so,” Tivver replied, brushing past her as he headed into the corridor.
As Kaelin watched him go and then turned back inside, she noticed the others had already returned to their conversation. The fact that they had stopped staring at her eased her slightly, and after stepping inside she quietly closed the door behind her.
They were gathered around the table, looking at what seemed to be a piece of paper. Only then did she notice Ravah, still lying in bed—hidden from her view earlier by the door. Without thinking, she walked over and began examining her injuries.
There were bandages across much of her body, most of them lightly stained, but the one wrapped around her abdomen was marked with a deep red patch. If I had taken wounds like these, I wouldn’t be moving for weeks, she thought.
Then, as she looked closer, she noticed how muscular the woman was. Her arms and legs were thick, her abdomen solid like that of a man, yet her skin was almost smooth—and the tattoos… Most of her body was covered in them, strange patterns and shapes that seemed meaningless at first glance. For some reason, Kaelin suddenly remembered the symbol that had appeared on Koreth’s chest the night before. Ravah had noticed her and was watching her now, though she said nothing.
When Kaelin realized, she flushed slightly. “Sorry,” she said, then added with a guilty look, “Are you alright?”
Vaelra was watching them from the table as well, though only from the corner of her eye.
“Not as bad as it looks, princess,” Ravah said. Her breathing and speech seemed steady enough. “Darian’s pulled me back before.”
“I’m sorry,” Kaelin said suddenly, her voice louder this time. “For all the trouble I’ve caused.”
The others at the table heard it as well; it was clearly meant for all of them. Ravah didn’t answer, but her gaze shifted briefly toward the others, as though waiting.
“No sorry, no thank you,” Veylith’s voice came from across the room.
Kaelin turned toward her, clearly confused.
“That’s our rule,” Veylith continued. “We don’t say those things to each other. If one of us brings trouble, we deal with it together. No apologies, no thanks. Because we all know we’d do the same. So you don’t have to say anything—just be there when it happens.”
For a moment, Kaelin didn’t know what to say—not because she was unsure, or afraid, but because it was the first time she had felt something like belonging… like acceptance. Her eyes grew slightly misty, and just as she was about to thank them, she stopped herself.
“I will,” she said instead, with a faint, fragile smile. Vaelra mirrored that same smile.
At that moment the door opened and Tivver came back in, arms full of glasses and bottles.
“I ended up talking to Harrik’s pretty daughter downstairs, so I forgot who wanted what. Grabbed a bit of everything. Figured we’d all—” He finally looked up at them and paused. “What?” he said, curiosity creeping into his expression. “What did I miss?”
Kaelin smiled and stepped toward him, taking some of what he carried to help. Together they began pouring drinks for everyone while the others resumed their conversation.
“So,” Veylith said, just as Tivver handed her a glass of wine, “what happened with the boat?”
“I spoke with Harrik, there’s no problem—he’ll be waiting for us at the harbor tomorrow morning,” Tivver replied.
Kaelin hadn’t joined the conversation, but she was still curious about what was going on.
“We’re planning to leave the city in the morning on a merchant’s ship,” Vaelra said as she stepped closer to her, having understood her curiosity. “Would that be a problem for you? I don’t think there’s anything left here that’s keeping you,” she continued. They both knew very well what she meant.
“Where are we going?” Kaelin asked in return, as if she had already decided to go.
“Anywhere other than here.”
“We’ll leave early in the morning and each of us will take different routes to reach the harbor. Is there anything that’s not clear?” Veylith asked, looking at all of them.
No objection came from anyone. Everyone was busy sipping their drinks. When their eyes met with Kaelin’s, she shook her head to indicate no. She hadn’t heard the full plan, but they would leave in the morning, go to the harbor, and escape by ship—there was nothing for her to object to. If anything, it gave her a slight sense of relief.
Everyone had finished their first drinks and had visibly loosened up. Suddenly, Tivver turned to Kaelin. “Hey Key,” he called out. Since Kaelin had never been addressed like that before, she stiffened slightly, though she wasn’t the only one who found it strange.
“You said that weird blackout last night was because of you—how?” he asked, rushing to the end of the sentence.
“Had you been drinking before you even came here?” Vaelra asked, and there was anger in her voice.
“I might have had a few drinks, but I’m not drunk,” he replied, though it was very obvious that he was.
“It’s not important,” Kaelin cut in, noticing that Vaelra was trying not to open this topic. “You have the right to know what happened.”
After saying that, she sat down on the edge of the empty bed and began telling them what she had experienced during the night. As the others listened without interrupting her, the bottles had already been drained halfway. In the end, she told everything up until the tunnels where she had encountered them, and then she fell silent. The others remained quiet for a few minutes, trying to process everything they had heard.
“So you don’t know what this power is,” Ravah said, breaking the silence. She had pushed herself upright while listening.
“No. Like my mother, I can influence people’s emotions, but I have no idea what this is.”
“So you don’t have a script in your body either,” Tivver cut in, as if he wanted to be sure.
“No. I know people can gain a second kind of power that way, but I’ve never tried it.”
“I think the symbol that appeared on that man’s chest is what killed him, not you,” Darian said, joining the conversation. “But the fact that they referred to it as a seal might be the real clue.”
Kaelin looked at his face as if to show that she didn’t understand what he meant, and she wasn’t alone in that. Noticing this, Darian continued explaining, “Think about it—some of us saw memories, some of us saw strange visions, but in the end we all saw something. At the same time, and within the same duration. A seal is used to hide or conceal things.”
“So you’re saying the things we saw could be things that were hidden from us,” Vaelra continued his reasoning. “If the seal is broken, then those things might have been released accordingly. But some of us only saw memories—things we already knew, things we had lived.”
After that, silence settled over the room again.
“What if everyone saw a memory from a specific time period they lived through?” Veylith said, breaking the silence. She was sitting in her chair, lost in thought. “The memory I saw was from eighteen or nineteen years ago—what about you?”
Vaelra, Tivver, and Ravah all paused for a moment, then nodded as if they had reached the same realization.
“You saw your memories, while we saw things that were hidden from us… or made us forget,” Darian said, almost as if speaking to himself. Then he repeated quietly, “Made us forget…”
“You said the judge was working for the Ledger, right?” Vaelra said, turning to Kaelin. Kaelin nodded in confirmation.
“That means the Ledger can manipulate people’s memories, hide certain things, make them forget. And it seems they can do this on a large scale.”
Even Tivver, whose head was already light from drinking, felt a chill at those words.
“And your power…” Vaelra began.
“Reveals the truth,” Veylith finished her sentence. “For everyone.”
“If all of this is true, then your existence represents a tremendous threat to them,” Darian said. At that, Kaelin tensed even more and began, at least slightly, to grasp the scale of what she was involved in. “That also explains the absurd number of patrols in the city and the lunatics chasing after you.”
Like the others, Vaelra also felt a chill run through her, but she drew the attention back again. “But there’s still something that doesn’t fit.” “You said Mayra didn’t see anything, right?” she asked again, turning to Kaelin. Kaelin nodded once more. Just hearing her name caused that pressure in her chest to return. “Why?” Vaelra asked, and silence once again took over the room.
A few minutes later, Tivver broke the silence with a belch, making it obvious how drunk he was. “How old was she? The girl?” At that question, they all looked at him strangely. They all thought he was starting to lose it.
Still, Kaelin answered him. “She said she was twenty, but I know she couldn’t have been more than eighteen. What does that have to do with—” she suddenly stopped, her eyes widening as if a realization had struck her. “Oh.” At the same time, the others also understood what Tivver had been getting at.
“If she wasn’t alive back then, or if she was just a baby, then there wouldn’t be anything for her to remember,” Tivver said, now underlining what had become obvious, before returning to his drink.
“There’s another problem,” Veylith said as she sipped her wine, looking out at the darkening sky beyond the window. “If the seal is broken, why did you only remember a short moment? Shouldn’t you remember everything that was forgotten?” No one could find anything to say to that.
“What if there isn’t just one seal?” Ravah said suddenly. They all turned to her at once.
It was clear that she was uncomfortable with all of them looking at her, but she continued anyway. “While I was hiding on that balcony earlier, I heard one of the men passing by say something like ‘the other half of the seal.’ If the seal is in two parts, then maybe the memories won’t return until both are broken.” After that, she didn’t say anything else.
“To protect the other seal, they have to capture you,” Veylith said at last, looking at Kaelin. “And the most guaranteed way to do that is to eliminate the threat.” At those words, the atmosphere grew even more serious. Tomorrow’s escape plan suddenly felt much more dangerous.
“We’re getting out of this shitty city one way or another. We’ve always found a way, so don’t stress me out any more, you losers,” Tivver shouted in a line that was extremely cliché, yet still managed to soften the mood.
Watching him sway where he stood, Kaelin, Darian, and Vaelra all seemed to relax a little and smile. Ravah continued resting while staring at the ceiling. Veylith kept looking out the window, lost in thought. For a brief moment, Kaelin’s gaze fell on her, but she continued talking with the others. Somehow, she felt very comfortable around them.
After a few hours, Ravah had already fallen asleep, and Tivver had passed out on Darian’s shoulder. Vaelra, who had been talking with Kaelin during that time, had also started to sway. She had told her a few ridiculous stories they had lived through and had managed to distract her.
Veylith, who had occasionally joined the conversation, said, “I think it’s time for you to go to bed now,” and pulled the glass in front of Vaelra aside. Vaelra didn’t object, as she was nearly as drunk as Tivver. “Will you stay here with her?” she asked Kaelin. “I’ll take those idiots and go to the other room.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Kaelin said while trying to lift Vaelra from her chair.
“You drink well,” Veylith said, splashing the small amount of water left in a metal cup onto Tivver and Darian’s faces. The two of them jolted awake in surprise.
“I guess I’m just used to it,” Kaelin replied as she laid Vaelra down on the bed.
“Come on, idiots, we’re going to bed,” Veylith said as she pushed the two of them toward the door.
“It would be an honor to share my bed with you,” Tivver said, still slurring his words.
“Shut up, Tiv. I’m sleeping alone in your bed. You can cuddle with Darian tonight if you want,” Veylith said as she opened the door.
Tivver, stepping in front of him, said, “Come on, darling,” this time pestering Darian as they left the room.
Before closing the door, Veylith turned back. “Don’t worry, like this perverted gnome said, we always find a way.” After seeing Kaelin nod at her with a warm smile, she closed the door and left.
Kaelin continued to look at the door for a short while. She couldn’t even describe how important this small piece of peace she felt was for her.
When a hand suddenly grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed, her thoughts scattered instantly. Vaelra, who was absurdly strong even in this state, had wrapped herself around her and practically locked her in place. “It’ll be okay,” she said in a half-asleep voice, her eyes closed.
When Kaelin realized she wouldn’t be able to escape her arms, she gave in to the exhaustion and the looseness brought by a considerable amount of beer, and drifted into sleep.