The streets of the city were slick with rain as the evening sky grew darker. Raindrops tapped against the cobblestone roads and slate rooftops, creating a steady rhythm.
Gas lamps flickered in the distance, casting a warm glow on the wet pavement, while the rest of the city was shrouded in a cool mist.
Given both the weather and the odd time of night, the city’s inhabitants were few and far between. Only the occasional sound of horse-drawn carriages clattering along the streets could be heard, muffled by the rain.
There had been a clear path from the holding cells to the fire-escape, but now Fionntan would have to get his escapee across the garden which stretched from the police station, to the gates. A thick stone wall surrounded the entire property, topped with a tangle of barbwire; ensuring that the only way out was the two gates.
The nearest was far less trafficked, but not empty. Two officers were talking animatedly near the gate while hiding under their umbrellas.
Fionntan paused to look at Ellamae. Rain was quickly weighing down her orange locks as she looked up at him questioningly. With her bare feet and nothing but a stained dress for wamth, she stood out like sore thumb.
“Listen carefully; this is going to be your first lesson on human psychology." Quickly, he took off his jacket and slid it over her shoulders. It was far too big for her, but she seemed thankful for the warmth and did not fight him. “Humans typically have astounding filters for the world around them. They can walk through crowds of people and not remember a single person in that crowd individually. However, it does come with a safety mechanism. If someone is acting different — even just the slightest — their brain will pick up on that, and attract notice.”
Her head tilted as she processed the information. “So by acting normal… you can be invisible..?”
“Exactly! So, all it takes is a head held high, and a confident pace that says you know where you are going, and that you have somewhere important to be.” Fionntan put his arm around her shoulders to urge her forward at a brisk pace. They exited the safety of their shadows and directly onto the path with the officers. “In this case, we are in a hurry to get out of the rain. Do try to play along.”
In response, her chin rose, and her eyes locked onto something beyond where the officers stood. Bare feet mimicked his pace without complaint despite splashing through puddles; the wet of it causing the hem of her dress to grow dark with dampness.
“The entire kingdom is going mad,” The one officer was telling the other. “I heard from my cousin in the south that they have had murders just like ours; strange and unexplainable, and done up as if some sort of sacrifice. One of ‘em was right in the center of town, in front of a schoolyard of all places.”
“I think it is the schools themselves causing this. Kids these days are being influenced by the —,“ started the other, as the two Flickers past by him. “ — free-thinking teachers. When I was a kid, you’d have your knuckles bruised for fidgeting, but a teacher told my girl that fidgeting helps some students think clearer. Can you believe that?”
The officers continued their conversation, and Fionntan and Ellamae both breathed out sighs of relief once they were a good distance away.
"Well done," Fionntan said. "I can't believe that really worked!"
She startled. "You did not think it would?"
"Not particularly, no, but we all get lucky sometimes."
At the end of the road, two motorized carriages awaited them. Both had the wheels and driver’s seats associated with a horse carriage, but no horses. Instead, it was completely glow-cell powered, encased under a hood in front of the driver.
Fionntan ignored the first, and herded Ellamae towards the second. As they passed by, she craned her head, curiously trying to glimpse the mechanics of the driving wheel. The new technology was becoming common with the wealthy, but to a girl from the docks, the horse-free carriages must seem like a whole new kind of magic.
The driver of the second carriage — a man with coven patches upon his long and heavy jacket — saw them approaching and stepped down from the drivers seat to open the door for them.
“The alarms will be raised in any moment,” Fionntan told him, and the large man nodded grimly before waving at the driver of the identical vehicle.
Upon seeing the lush cushioned seats and thickly curtained windows, Ellamae was so preoccupied with taking it all in, she would have fallen on the first step if Fionntan hadn’t quickly righted her. As she regained her balance, her whole body flinched; noticing that the carriage was not empty.
A man sat on one of the benches, and he eyed Ellamae over his glasses as if a look alone could estimate her worth. Every detail about him was done with painstaking perfection; from his bowl-shaped haircut without a strand out of place to his jacket without a single wrinkle.
Ellamae; drenching wet, barefoot, and covered in stains, was a complete contrast. Despite this, the odd woman simply glared at this new stranger just as fiercely as she had with Fionntan and slumped down in the corner away from him; ignoring the puddle she was leaving upon the fabric.
Fionntan sighed and sat down next to her.
“Ms. Holt, this is Clarence Tumbler, the highest ranking talent seeker of the Lapis Order.” Fionntan said to the woman beside him, then addressed Clarence. “The situation is more complicated than we expected. While it is true that Ellamae Holt had a positive flicker reaction, it was a grade-A fire type. She believes there was a third unknown at the scene of the crime, though she never saw him personally.”
He could feel Ellamae's gaze momentarily move to him, likely wondering why he had left out the fact that she might have known the killer. In truth, Fionntan did not know why he had omitted that either, and yet he made no effort to add to his statement.
The mans face across from them was unreadable as he stared thoughtfully at Ellamae while his finger tapped upon the armrest beside him. Tap, tap, tap, it rhythmically went, like the ticking of a clock.
All the while, Ellamae took this as a challenge and stared right back, unflinching.
The carriage shifted slightly as the driver climbed onto the bench, then a soft hum emanated as the motor sprang to life. With only the slightest tremble, it creaked forward.
“You’re certain of her grade?” Clarence bluntly asked.
'He is doubting me?' The accusation caused a flare of anger.
Instead of answering, he took Ellamae’s wrist and overturned it to show the glass embedded in her palm. That, at least, got a reaction. With a curse, Clarence sprang forward and took her hand with a gentleness that was a stark contrast to his grim expression and cold words.
“Ms. Holt, if this is not carefully treated, you may lose mobility in your fingers. I am a Flicker with healing abilities, and I can promise you that I can heal it better than it could naturally with traditional treatment.” He told Ellamae, who regarded him cautiously; her whole body tight as a compressed spring. “It may hurt, but please hold as still as you can. It will be over quite quickly.”
She gave a curt nod, so Clarence started removing the bandages after a quick glance at Fionntan. “This is going to call for a slight change of plans. We are still taking you to Silverhilt station, where you are to board the first train back to Wicksend and immediately report to your team leader…but now Ms. Holt will be accompanying you.”
That last part made Fionntan’s mouth fall open. The original plan was simply get her, hand her over and leave; that was it. Now, he was what? A prisoner transport guard? A delivery boy?
“With all due respect and no offense intended to Ms. Holt,” Fionntan started. “She has no training, no gear, and hasn't completed the official registration process into the Order yet.”
“I am aware,” Clarence snapped. He hovered his hand over hers, and as he held his breath, a green glow emanated from his palm. His fingers pinched as if grabbing hold of a thread, then pulled. The glass shards reacted; pushing out of the skin while leaving a healed surface behind. Ellamae winced with the pain, but obeyed the order to be still until Clarence dropped her hand and retook his position opposite from them. “Further information has come forward, indicating the tower will not be the safest place for her at this time. You are to take her with you, you are to protect her, and you are to get her to your Squad Commander. Is that understood?”
“I —“ Fionntan swallowed back his arguments. “Yes, sir.”
Ellamae flexed her now-perfect hand with awe-filled eyes; seeming more fascinated by the smooth skin than her fate. Not even a scar marked where the injuries had been.
'She has absolutely no idea how peculiar this situation is.' New Flickers typically spent their first several years in the Lapis Order Tower undergoing training, never seeing the outside world until finally being sent on a mission. Doing so ensured the public that those released were fully in control of their powers, and had the training to properly serve... yet here they were, sending the most volatile class type into a full crowd. It was like putting a starved wolf in a cage already full of sheep, and simply hoping for the best.
'And somehow I am supposed to protect the sheep and the wolf at the same time.'
“Good," Clarence said. "Inform your Squad Commander that he is to train her as his own for the time being.”
“… Yes sir.”
Mind whirling, Fionntan rubbed his temples. ‘For fate’s sake, what is happening?'
This was supposed to be an easy mission; simply an inconvenient puddle to step over. That puddle turned out to be both wider and deeper than he could have expected.
Knocks sounded from the driver.
"Where's Wicksend?" Ellamae asked, not even acknowledging that she had heard Clarence's instructions.
Ignoring the rudeness, Clarence settled into his seat, closed his eyes, and reclined his head, as if preparing to sleep. “Heading north. It's a long train journey, several hours at least.”
“First, a motorized carriage, and now a train out of the city?" Ellamae huffed, her voice laced with amazement. "No one from the docks would believe it.”
As Ellamae finished her sentence, her amazement gave way to a sorrowful expression. She gazed at her hand, her opposite thumb tracing the spot where the injury had been, over and over again.
Fionntan felt a pang of sympathy, but also knew nothing he could say would help her.
So, the three sat in silence.
Glow Cells
- Almost all the advanced tech is powered by glow cells. These are essentially batteries, but what they hold is energy pulled from Flickers.
- Many low-ranking Flickers that are deamed as useless to the military end up having no choice but to work in a glow-cell factory. They are worked hard, paid little, and die often.
Inspiration:
The factories for these are based off of Victorian-era workhouses. These were places poor folk would end up in, and while they did provide housing and employment, they were sometimes just prisons in disguise with plenty of abuse.
The glow cells are based on dry cell batteries
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