52 Ash, 90 Age of Steel
Gateway, the Knob, Zaichaer
The neighborhood known as the Gateway was devoid of life. It was not devoid of people, but bereft of any of the things that made life worth living. There were precious few lanterns lining the streets this desolate night, and no laughter. The soul of the city had been reaved out, but the body left breathing. Scurrying through its lifeless veins were members of the Order, their barked orders and the scrapes of wood on cobblestone now the only things that were allowed to pierce the silence.
Those that tried to leave their houses were directed back inside at the point of a sword or a gun, and no explanation was given to what was to happen to them. The grim faces the Order members wore meant nothing good, but there were few that could openly resist them. To so many citizens, these jackbooted thugs had come to represent not a blade in the dark, but a light in the darkness. To oppose them was not only to endanger themselves, but their entire community.
There had been mages hiding in the Gateway, everyone knew that now. They had been drawn out hiding after Kara had been slain. There had been average folk that had joined her cause too, but mentioning as such did not serve the needs of the State, and so they were quickly forgotten.
When news had broken that there were still mages suspected to be hiding in the neighborhood, most citizens had wanted to do whatever they could to help turn them over to the Order. It was a relief when all that was asked of them was to stay inside, remain quiet, and to extinguish all flames. Many relished the chance to assist the Order in any way that they could, and so obeyed without question.
Percival and Orphea Quill were no such people.
They moved quietly in the dark of the house, every footfall precise so as not to fall upon an irritable floorboard or labored stair. Their home was a narrow, two story tall building that leaned precariously over to one side, only stopped by a framework of wooden stilts the neighborhood had come together to install.
Percival carefully stepped down the stairs carrying his five year old daughter in his arms. She was bundled up in her blanket and still sleeping soundly when he entered the dining area where Orphea worked. She currently loaded a small pack with a few changes of clothes for little Nessa, was well as whatever coins she could manage to fit into the pack without it causing it to jingle.
Nessa looked most like her mother, everyone said so. Dark skin, dark hair, a smile that could light up the room. Orphea was tall, strong, and carried herself with purpose. This entire endeavor had been her idea. She had seen the explosives being carted in before the order had been given to remain indoors. She did not know precisely what the Order was planning, but she had no reason to believe they needed so much accelerant for a few pyres, nor enough powder to bring the sky down on their heads.
The plan could not have been possible without Percival's help, though. Percy was a a merchant of moderate import within the Gateway, and he often dealt with goods that had not been obtained entirely legitimately. His family had been in the smuggling trade for generations, and Percival had opted to instead act as the fence. When the lockdown had begun, it had been only a short while before one of his siblings came by.
Most of the usual routes out of the city had been blocked, and there were even guards posted at the unconventional exits that only smugglers used. The Order had surgically excised the Gateway from the rest of Zaichaer, and to even the smugglers this was concerning. Only the most brazen among them dealt in magical curios, and even they had never seen such a response. It was enough to put most of Percy's family on edge, but there were some bonds that not even the Order could hope to break.
While they waited for Percy's brother to arrive, Orphea and her husband spared a moment to speak. Their voice was below even a whisper, so quiet that it could be mistaken for an idle gust on the wind. Percy was the first to speak.
“Do you think we have enough time?”
Orphea did her best not to look conflicted or unsure, but succeeded at neither. “I don't know.” she finally said with a small shrug of her shoulders. It tore at her to feel this way, to feel so helpless, and at the hands of the very men sworn to protect her and her family. It turned her stomach in knots. “I... I think so. Arthur knows ways he doesn't share with anyone.”
Arthur was Percy's older brother, a smuggler that had taken to the trade like most men took to breathing. Not a holiday had gone by that he had left Nessa without gifts enough to leave her spoiled rotten, but tonight was to be the finest present of all.
Orphea nodded. “I have family up north. We can go to them once we get out. No one will recognize us there.”
“Not how I imagined us starting a new life.” Percy put in, smiling despite it all.
Outside, the scraping of boots and thudding of barrels grew nearer, though still it sounded distant. The ominous thudding was the only way by which they could now tell time, and so they monitored it carefully. Percy looked down to Nessa, who had begun to stir.
“Shh.” her father said, and her mother brought a finger to her lips in agreement. Vanessa looked sleepily between them, blinking away the tiredness that still clung to her.
“Dad, what's happening?” She asked, looking between her parents. She shifted in her father's arms, but only so she could get more comfortable and loop her arms around his neck,
“Nothing, Vanessa.” Percy whispered, just a bit louder than before. “Your uncle's coming, and he's going to take us on a trip. It's past everyone's bedtime though, so you need to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”
Vanessa nodded along in agreement, but asked questions as all children her age did. “Why's he coming so late?” Now she was whispering as well to match her parents.
“He just got off his ship.” Orphea interjected when she noticed Percy struggling to come up with a convincing lie. “But he couldn't wait to see you.”
That answer did seem to satisfy Vanessa's curiosity. She had always been an inquisitive girl, but for now she was tired, and she tucked her head into the crook of her father's neck. This was how she remained for the next few minutes until she heard a quiet rapping on the rear window. Orphea stepped over to the window and quietly worked it open. The lean of the house meant the glass was reluctant to move, and the necessity to be quiet meant Orphea was loathe to simply force it. Blessedly, she was able to open it without issue, and outside stood Arthur.
Arthur did not look like much. A squat man with dirty blond hair and a low, heavy brow line. He also had a confident smile that was difficult to fake. He leaned in through the window, and kept his voice low as he spoke. “Alright, so, I found a way. It ain't the fastest, and I can only bring one at a time.” he confessed. “Too many patrols. Best I can do.”
“Thank you, Art.” Percy said
“Bah, s'nothing. Now get your things ready. You know I get nervous just standing around.” Arthur replied.
To Percy and Orphea, it was not even a question. Vanessa's mother lifted Vanessa away from her father and set her down on the floor. Then she knelt down in front of her. “We're going to be right behind you.” she said, and then shared an uncertain look with her husband that Vanessa didn't catch. “I love you, Nessa. I love you so much.” She brought her arms around her daughter and held her against her chest.
Confused, Vanessa returned the embrace. “I love you too, mom.”
Then it was Percy's turn, and he pulled her into his chest, practically smothering her before she managed to turn her head upward to look at him. He planted a kiss on her forehead. “You be good for uncle Arthur, okay? Love you, pumpkin. We'll see you tomorrow morning.”
Nessa nodded up to her father. “I will. Love you.” she replied tiredly.
Then Orphea handed Arthur the pack, and lifted Vanessa out the window. Uncle Arthur carried Vanessa on his back for the time being, and together they slunk through the back streets. They weaved an uneven path past patrols, Arthur doing such an excellent job that there was a long stretch before either of them had even seen the Reconciliators, and even then it was from some seventy yards off, and their backs had been turned.
Their point of egress was rightfully difficult to find, and involved shimmying through narrow alleyways and duck-walking through crawlspaces. Vanessa had to follow behind her uncle now, though he was always sure to keep her close by and out of any major sightlines the Gateway had.
Vanessa did attempt to ask questions as they went, but each time she was shushed by her uncle, who did not have the same patience for explaining himself as her parents. He was certainly not unkind, but his focus was on her safety, not her entertainment. He could afford no such distractions. She knew this was not the way to the airship docks, nor was this the way to uncle Arthur's house. Why hadn't they left through the front door, and why hadn't mom and dad come with her? These questions and more filled her mind, though she did remain silent.
Finally the two broke free of the Gateway, and were facing towards the mines. Ostensibly there was only one entrance, and it was well guarded, but a smuggler's keys opened many locks. Arthur guided Vanessa over to an outcropping of stones seemingly too large and cumbersome to move. Her glanced around over his shoulder before he revealed that most of the rocks were convincing fakes. The ones on the outside of the pile were real, but those atop it and those that comprised the center were practically weightless.
Once the center had been dug out, Vanessa's uncle lifted a wooden hatch into inky darkness. Then he looked over to Vanessa, who shied away from it now.
“Come on, girl. Be brave.” He said, reaching out his hand to her. There was a moment of hesitation before Vanessa took his hand, and nodded as resolutely as a five year old could manage.
“Knew you were never scared of the dark.” her uncle said as he lifted her over the rocks and into the narrow tunnel. He replaced the rocks quickly before ducking in after her and navigating through the mines.
The path they took was now intermittently lit, the Mines not under the same gag order the rest of the city had been. Candles dotted some of the walls, but no one paid the two any mind. Vanessa's uncle also spent as little time as possible on the main thoroughfares, instead leading his niece through claustrophobically tight smuggler runs.
Feeling bold enough to talk, Vanessa looked to her uncle “Where are we going?”
“To meet a friend. He owes me a favor.” Her uncle replied.
“Why couldn't we take a carriage?” Vanessa then asked
“Isn't this more fun? You've never been down in the mines.”
She pondered that for a moment before deciding he was right. She nodded in agreement. “I like it.”
“Good kid.” Arthur said, ruffling her hair. He could feel himself start to relax as they neared the final stop.
The way up was a long ladder, and Vanessa did not like that one bit. Her uncle followed behind her as she ascended first, finally emerging from the mines in what was an unremarkable shed in the West End of Zaichaer. Arthur pulled himself out after her, breathing hard. After a few moments to catch his breath, he poked his head out of the shed, thankful that there were no Order thugs waiting to snip his head off his neck.
He was guiding Vanessa towards the front door of the truly massive estate when he heard it. That low rumbling like cannon fire that lumbered ever nearer. Arthur hoped against hope, and he ran to the street with Vanessa in tow, heedless of the risk.
A part of him died that day when he looked towards the East End, and saw only a growing, consuming ruin in the briefest flashes provided by the Gateway's last refrain. Explosives spit light into the sky, and fire raged on in its wake. Smoke blotted out the stars and grasped upwards like broken fingers. Flaming debris filled the air, and the sight of it made Arthur sick.
“We have to go.” Was all uncle Arthur could say, his senses deadening to nothing until the only thing that remained was his his mission.
Vanessa was still in shock, staring unblinkingly at the rubble, smoke and fire. “Are mom and dad okay?”
The question could not hurt him anymore, not now at least. “We need to go.” he repeated, and dragged his niece by her arm down the street, away from the wreckage.
