by Parnham, N
After my customary routine of washing and clothing myself, I again made my way up through the centre of the city, where all entertainers had departed.
Knocking on the door, I received no answer, not even an unsociable grunt. The door was securely locked, so entry was all but impossible.
“Tenro, are you there? It is Avis”.
There was still nothing but the unsettling silence, as before.
“Morning Avis, sorry I thought you knew, I will be moving away from this area, Camerine should have let you know, you will now be working for Hecate, she has requested you personally to work for her”.
“Hecate wants me personally, why?”.
“Well, you know, not to be big headed as such, but I quietly informed her of what great services you give, and she has decided she wants you in her service; I would be somewhat of an idiot if I were to challenge her, especially when I am leaving; so I would suggest you go now, you do not want to be late… ”.
Leaving, for most likely the last time, I strolled up the path towards Hecate’s enormous home.
“Stop. We have told you before, do not come in this area, do you not listen?”. Said the guards, as they postured themselves ready for attack.
“Today, I am here on official business, I have been asked for by Hecate herself, ask her if you like…”.
The guards looked at each other, then back towards me, deciding eventually that one would go in as the other watched over me, ensuring I did not cause any trouble.
“Hecate will see you”. Said one of the guards, as he gestured the other to open the gate for me.
I made my way towards the entrance. Flower beds were filled with the florae of season, aconites, poppies and ash manna swayed in the breeze. Upon the grounds were dotted almond and fig trees, as well as the occasional row of grapevines, ripened to the eye.
“Well… will you at all enter into this place, or are you merely going to gawp at nature’s sweets all day?”.
I tried to speak but Hecate interrupted.
“That was not a question young lady, it was a formal request, that you duly enter into my residence, to undertake the tasks I have arranged for you, good heavens, decorum dear”.
She turned around, her faces glaring in anticipation. She wore a white dress that shimmered silver as it rolled upon her figure. Her hair was a curled, dark brunette, shoulder length and held back in seamless locks. It was unworldly that there were three people in one; the only way to tell the difference was by the unique crowns that they wore upon their heads.
“Now, as you have somewhat witnessed, I have a grand residence and I would wish for it to be maintained at the standard that I deem appropriately fitting. Firstly, I would like you to undertake the cleaning of my bathing facilities, located north of here, then once you have completed this task, I will require that you call me for review”.
I looked upon the room; it was domed with unblemished glass, held together by strips of metal, warped into shape. There was an imposing place for Hecate to be seated; it sat affront of a stairway, leading to a door that was embedded with the phases of the moon. The walls lined with pillars, breaking up the perfected artwork that displayed a brief story of Hecate.
“Before you go, I will have need of your pass; I do not wish for any unsavoury persons in my abode. It may seem but a little out of place, but safekeeping is a necessity”.
I panicked, my eyes rushing around, becoming bloodshot from the sudden stress. I did not have a pass, I am not a citizen of the city, what am I to do.
“Please do hurry along Avis, it is not a task that requires intellect now is it?”. Hecate said as she lowered her head, glancing towards me.
“I have left my pass at the slaughterhouse, I did not think I would need it today”.
“You have left it at the slaughterhouse? … I see; do you not know the rudimentary rules of the city? All citizens are to carry their passes, at all times; you do disappoint me somewhat Avis”.
Apologising, I walked through the never-ending rooms, to her bathing facilities. I was expecting a luxurious room, but nothing could prepare me for what I saw. It was beautiful. It was like a lake, but within a building. The water swept over rock faces forming a never-ending trail of ripples that you could become lost within; flowers extended their touch from the stirring of the waterfall's base, they perched themselves as loyal servants, grown to create an awe of serenity. A cloud of butterflies flew about, as if possessed by phantoms, able to move in ways that became picturesque, even if only for a moment.
Upon the water sat beautiful creatures; their bodies broad and with feathers soft that were coloured the nimblest of pinks; their eyes gave no secret away, they were glossed over with lifeless expressions. Upon the centre was a platform, raised up with sweeps of architectural charms; placed atop was an object which shone brightly, letting the light ride upon the surrounding water.
Presumably Hecate, or another servant of hers, had left a bucket and a frayed cloth for me upon the tiled floor; what an aura of compassion they must radiate…
I dipped the cloth, along with my hand, into the bucket; raising my hand up, a strange substance was dripping down; a clear, solidified paste of sorts.
“How ghastly”. I whispered to myself, as my lips stiffened in displeasure.
I circled my way around the tiles, trying my upmost to clean between the gaps where dirt had become trapped; but with the mediocre cleaning tools, it felt like a endless onslaught. I could hear Hecate marshalling demands to the other servants of the household, her voice echoing from each wall. I quickly discovered that I could use the edge of the cloth in order to better clean in between the tiles; it was a rougher edge, so more capable of loosening dirt that had become stuck, like a stroppy young child not wanting to give up their toys. I began to feel my heart throb as I pushed myself to work harder; my arms were beginning to tire, but I knew I could not leave a job half finished, especially this job.
“Almost done”. I repeatedly said to myself, holding onto a thought of completion.
I looked up; in seeing that I had almost completed, I let out a sigh of relief. Almost collapsing under my own weight, I managed to knock over a plant, scattering soil about the floor.
“For goodness sake”. I said as I let out an animal like growl.
Just as I thought, it was but complete, I had managed to forge more work for myself. I scooped up as much of the soil as I could, placing it back and cleaning up the remainder with my cloth. Finishing, my arms collapsed and my face met the floor; hearing the peculiar sounds of the paste slipping into my ear as I tried to regain composure. In the centre, I could now clearly see through the light; there was a brilliantly cut purple gem held in place firmly.
“I have completed the cleaning, ready for your inspection”. I said to Hecate as my arms flung about, as if jelly.
“Very good. We shall see how fittingly your standards match upon mine”.
We walked back to the bathing facilities; Hecate’s eyes peered around the room, searching for a spot of imperfection. She conjured up magick, turning the tiles where I had cleansed, to a dim purple, revealing any place I had overlooked.
“I suppose this will have to suffice; perhaps next time you can partake in what I pay you for, young… lady… sorry I mean woman; lady is reserved for those with standards, nevertheless, you are free to go. I hope you do appreciate your day; I would ask you what you are involving yourself in today, but I as I expected, I do not care, now disappear”.
Mid-afternoon had arrived and the rain was lightly falling as it was whipped up by the breeze; the smell of charcoal burning was dominant in the air. Usually I would try to find somewhere to shelter, but today I was overheated, so I let the rains fall upon me, cooling me down gently.
The best idea would be to see Camerine about my issue with my pass; it was likely that he would be at home, so that is where my feet led me.
Already at the door, Camerine greeted me, as he was sprucing up the frame with a strong smelling black
paint; he did not seem he was well suited to be a decorator of any sorts, more paint was upon him and on the floor, than he had managed to put onto the frame itself.
“Afternoon Avis, how are you today?”. Camerine said, all the time trying to multitask between talking and painting; a task few men could achieve.
“I am ok, I see that you have picked the perfect day to paint”.
Camerine gave me a dismissive look, not wanting to allow his dominance as a man to be affected.
“So, how can I help you Avis?”.
I stepped closer to him, lowering my voice, so none around could hear the words I spoke.
“Hecate asked for my city pass earlier and I only survived by the skin of my teeth as I do not have one. I am not sure if there is anything you can do? But you were my first thought, as I have grown to trust you”.
“I am certainly the right person to come to, I have a good friend, Natrok, who owns a bookstore close by, hidden away in a side street; he is a master calligrapher, able to copy a document to perfected standards; well at least to a standard that is convincing. I do not think this is going to dry and I have to take my mother to get some medicine, so let us make a day out of it, if that is ok?”.
“That will be nice, what is wrong with your mother?”.
“Nothing much, she is just complaining that her legs are swollen; I do not see what she is talking about, but it is easier just to appease her than hear the same subject all day long”.
We walked through the main centre of the city, down into a petite street “Henson Road”. Holding back on breathing in as best as I could. It was unlike everywhere else I had visited in the city, reserved only for the poorest of souls among us. The streets were unclear, piles of manure were left to be trod upon. The occasional dog would take an interest but quickly fled after fully inhaling the unusual perfume. I often had to stoop in order to avoid the women throwing out buckets of filth, which quite repulsively mixed with the paths to make a sludgy mess, which gurgled with each step.
Further along the street, were a family, seemingly without a home. They had crafted a small shelter among the filth, made from a few planks of putrid wood and a large torn piece of fabric to give a covering. They were skeletal in form; in this world, without a home or a job, food was hard to come by. The woman held onto her baby, her eyes lost in a hopeless reality; you could see all that she wanted was to help her child as she begged passers-by for coin; her own wellbeing did not matter, she would give her last breath so that her child could live on.
She had lowered her head as we reached them, the child crying as flies hovered upon his eyelids; the father was fast asleep, producing small earthquakes with each breath he took.
“Excuse me, what is your name?”. I said as I crouched down, not wishing to appear as to be looking down upon her as every other had.
“Jane”. Is all she said, as she lifted her head up.
“Here Jane, look after your family and never give up hope, ever”.
I handed five hundred coin to her. Tears swept away the dirt upon her face and she leapt up to hold me tight within her arms; although the smell was somewhat undesirable, I returned the hug, hope is what I held onto and now I had given someone else that feeling back.
We walked on, the cries of happiness and the endless praises were warming to the heart. A couple of guards stood close by to where we were heading; in passing, they made profuse remarks to Camerine’s mother.
“I love a good bit of aged meat”. Said one of the guards; but she ignored them as we walked in to see the medicine man.
“Afternoon Camerine, it has been a long time, how are you? How is the family? Any news on the book?”.
We were greeted by a tall, fresh faced man, wearing a clean-cut white suit and holding onto a threatening looking walking cane.
“We are very good. No I am afraid there is no news on the book. This is my friend Avis and my mother of course”.
“Shame, so how can I help you today?”.
“Well, mother is complaining about her leg, I do not see what is wrong but… ”.
Camerine’s mother interrupted.
“It is clearly swollen, I say; I do not know how you cannot see it”.
“Ok then Mrs Dorton, let me have a closer look at you, just pull up your skirt so I can examine you”.
“Do not get any funny ideas; I know what you men are like”. She chuckled, as a love-swept youngster, as she lifted up her skirt.
“I see… on closer inspection, it is a fraction larger than the other leg, I do not think anything is wrong, but just to be on the safe side, I will give you treatment”.
Stanford walked into the back of his shop, all the time talking to us about possible new cures for the outbreak of disease in the city.
“I think I have just the thing”. He said.
“Let me guess, leeches?”.
“Camerine, you must have mystical powers; every time you guess it right, you should work for the city psychic”.
Stanford opened up a moss-laden jar, reaching in and placing four hungry leeches upon her leg.
“Now, do not worry, they will not bite, wait… yes they will”. He said jokingly to Mrs Dorton.
“Can you not just use magick?”. I said perplexed to why he was using such rudimentary methods in a city as magickal as this.
“No, I prefer tradition; plus anyway, have you not seen my shop, there are so many magick items in here, I could slay the gods; I just wished to use something different”.
“Different? You use this every time”. Camerine laughed.
“Best to stick to what you know, I say; now these need to be on for around… twenty minutes”.
Cameron and I wondered about the shop, looking at all the bizarre items for health and magick he had collected. All of his items were in jars with neat parchments affront of them. Rat eyes, light air, water from the forbidden lake, grounded hog tooth; these were the items of a practising wizard, even the most dumbfounded of persons could see that.
I moved around the corner, surveying every item as I passed by, some vomit inducing, some placed from a fairytale into a small jar. I looked upon the parchment of one of the labels ‘live spirits’ well that is somewhat of a contradiction, if I have ever seen one.
“Ok, that should be just about enough, how do you feel?”.
Standing up, Mrs Dorton looked down at her leg.
“Now the other one looks bigger; I will come back tomorrow I suppose, see what else you can do… ”.
We walked out of the shop, Camerine nodding his head, with a half-smile upon his face.
“There she is again; look at those fine legs, I bet she could keep me warm in winter”. Said the same guard as before, laughing along with the other guard.
“Maybe we can have you for the winter feast, they always need a large bird for the centrepiece”. Said the other.
We merely ignored them and continued up the path to the bookstore.
“Natrok, how are you?”. Camerine approached and gave him a masculine hug, no more than two seconds, so as to avoid any signs of femininity; heavens forbid that would transpire. He was quite similar to Camerine, being a Panotti. His ears hung low around his body, not quite the look I would wish upon myself, but good in winter I suppose; they would keep you warm.
“I am mighty well, how about yourself? I hear your business is going well, have you managed to get many clients on the books?”.
“The maid service is good thank you; I need a small favour from you; this is Avis, she is in need of a genuine city pass, if you get my gist”.
“An outsider, I see; very well, you have been a good friend of mine throughout the years, so I will do it for you”. “What is your full name Avis?”.
“Avis Aldebourne”.
“Are you married? If so, is that your marriage name, or have you kept the original?”.
“It is my original surname, we decided to keep our last names”.
“Very well, one moment… ”.
We
looked on with deep interest as he forged an official pass; copying the wording of his own, he was able to, without error, duplicate the handwriting style. There was an official stamp he used, with enflamed red ink, which had been forged using melted max, poured into a small mould.
“Your pass is now complete; you are now an official member of the city, congratulations”.
“Thank you”. I said, taking the pass and slipping it into my awaiting pocket.
Camerine and Natrok talked for what seemed like an age. I looked through the selection of books that were available to buy. It appeared as if Natrok was writing his own book; placed upon a desk it rested atop a slanted piece of wood to give better visibility; the desk had ink pots adjoined, as well as storage for any reference accounts he may require.
“Well we best be off, it has been delightful to catch up, come by my house sometime for supper”. Camerine said as I twiddled the feathers of a stuffed bird hung above the mantelpiece.
“That I will; enjoy the rest of your day, farewell”.
We left, and Camerine had decided to show me further up the street, as I had not been in this area before.
“This may not be the best of areas to live, but the people here, I believe are far more friendly than those of the upper classes”.
At the top of the street was a large bustling square; people were desperately walking through, avoiding each other, as carts ran over the feet of a few, not paying due attention. There were large wooden containers where groups of women were cleaning their clothing with salvaged water. Only the most unusable of items were upon the floor, as anything that could be used was quickly picked up and taken away by those in passing.
“That is the city executioner”. Camerine said, pointing over to an immense man, his face covered in armour, holding onto an axe, swollen by the blood of many.
