The Heart of the Matter

I sigh as I finish my patrol and realize that now I am once again off duty. I wonder what I will do with myself tonight, I could go home I suppose but though that is sanctuary from the hostile glares and disapproving looks, it would be hiding. My wandering feet take me down the familiar streets to the Gazebo, a favorite place to watch the people of the city when I am not on patrol. I figure I should be wandering the walls about now, and I will later, but for  now I feel the need to think. I sit on the marble bench and finger my bruised chin, a beautifully painful shade of purple blue about now and grin with a shake of my head. That blow bloody hurt and a small part of me, the weak part I am trying to kill, was glad for the interruption. I have no doubt that she was holding back a great deal with that blow, she could have easily taken be out, either knocking me out or killing me if that was her wish and I know now that this is going to be a process that will make me question just how strong I truly am. Feeling the wind blow across my uncovered face I question the path I am on yet again.

Why am I doing this? Why am I even here, armed and armored in the Militia. The answer was so clear when it all began, I was going to help people, I was going to be someone others could look to and they would all see that I was worth something. They would see that it didn't matter if I was a woman or not, it didn't matter that I was small. Now though, my biggest weakness seems to be my need to be nice.  Maybe I need to get beyond these walls, the city is starting to stifle again. Then again with the way things are going there is no way I can get away, I can just imagine how I would feel if there was an attack and I wasn't here, besides I need to train. I finger my jaw again sigh, there is so much to learn so much to do and yet what will I think when the training really begins. I hope I am not too slow a learner, I chuckle under my breath, I would hate to see the inside of that infirmary more often then absolutely necessary.

As I sit brooding I almost miss a familiar couple of faces in the crowd and by the time I see them it is too late. Lyra and Gareth both accost me and shatter my few moments of peace, Lyra looking like she bit something unpleasant who is followed by Gareth, looking like a determined overgrown mother hen lumbering behind. As they turn towards me I cannot help a frustrated sigh forgetting for the moment that the lower half of my face makes it look like I ran into a brick wall. Lyra looks as though she is about to make a snide comment when Gareth beats her to it, "Shar, what happened?" he asks in an overly loud voice making me wince as I see heads turn. I stand and turn to go saying quietly, "Nothing happened Gareth, there is no need to worry I am fine." He looks furious at this answer and I begin to wonder if hiding would be a good idea after all, less of this ridiculous mess, I am honestly beginning to wonder if they are stalking me. Not that that would surprise me, no matter how enthusiastically they say they don't want me. I begin moving away, trying to get out of that space before they can follow or at the least leading them away from the crowds. They stick to me as though they had tethers and I cannot help cursing under my breath. At least it will get a bit more private and I lead them to the park silently as the two of them berate me the entire way.


Finally we reach a quiet corner of the park and taking a quick look around I am pleased to see that there is no one in sight, not that that means we are alone of course. There is never true privacy in this city, even behind locked doors, little old ladies listen at keyholes for their daily dose of drama. Turing I see the two getting more and more upset, the volume on their combined tirades rising and am happy to see that they are both out of breath. I did make sure to keep the speed up for a reason. "Shut up," I say, just loud enough that it cuts over their voices but by no means yelling. They fall silent looking surprised and offended. Before they can begin again I cross my arms and look them over. "This will stop, I am very tired of the two of you hunting me down and inserting yourselves into my business. I no longer need answer to you, or our parents, or anyone else who is not a superior officer. I don't care how much my choices have hindered you. You and the rest of the family made it more than plain that I was an embarrassment and was never to bother the lot of you again. Now who is bothering whom?" I say all of this quietly with an expression as devoid of emotion as I can manage, I am sure the bruise helps matters particularly as it hurts to move my mouth, that and the still healing wounds from the goblin and rebel attacks.

It takes them both a moment to recover, Lyra finding her poisonous tongue first, "Oh yes, of course and you are doing so well on your own. You look like you have been in a bar fight and lost." I shrug at her words but she continues. "You have yet to be back home, even for a visit. You run away from us when we try to speak to you, you don't even try to catch a man." she pauses here and a crafty look enters her eyes, "Or is that who," she is interrupted by my laughter, I can't help it I cannot stop laughing. The look on their faces as I laugh just makes it harder to stop and leaves me sitting on the ground holding my sides as I try and catch my breath. When I have finally calmed down I look up at the two of them and shake my head. "No, this isn't from a man, nor is it from a bar fight. Although truly it is none of your business." they both look rather unhappy with that. "Now, I will say this once and not again. I will talk to you whenever I am not on duty and if you speak in a civil tongue. Lyra, I know what you think of me and honestly I don't care. Gareth, the big bad world will always be out to get me, I am working to get it back. I don't need protection from words or hurt feelings, and I do not need a man." the last is more growled than spoken.

My prudish older sister's face has the tint of an overripe tomato by this point and my brother looks ready to wilt but I am done playing, standing I am about to leave when Lyra grabs my arm. Looking down at the offending appendage I then allow my eyes to travel up her arm and eventually rest upon her eyes, "Let go." my words are deadly quiet. She removes her hand but moves to stand in front of me. Obviously she isn't finished. "I was more than ready to drop you dear sister," she says bitterly, "I cannot see why anyone would want you, you do nothing but shame the family." she then glances at Gareth then back at me, "However, not all of the family thinks you are a lost cause and have decided to change your mind, forcefully if necessary." with that she turns away with her nose in the air and stalks off. This actually has me somewhat worried, not that they will do me any true harm physically, I can now likely take everything the worst of them can do and return it ten fold, no what worries me is that they can do my career harm.

It does not take me long to realize that I am still not alone, turning I see my brother looking like a cross between angry and sad. "Why are you doing this Shar? Why don't you just act like the girl you are and not try to be something else?" I take a long look at him before I answer, "I am being nothing more or less then what I am Gareth and the sooner you and the rest realize that, the happier everyone concerned will be." I turn to walk away and his parting words hit my ear, "She is right you know, the family isn't going to give up." I continue walking, not rising to the bait he cast but I do worry.

Back on the streets

Feeling the comforting confines of my armor again I remember the humiliation that took me out of it in the first place as I walk the familiar streets of my patrol once again. Sighing I think about each of the things that I was accused of particularly the last. Grunting I shake my head and continue the patrol, "Too much time to think while off duty as is, too much thought and not enough to keep myself busy." I mutter to myself keeping a careful eye on the other Militia I pass and saluting as needed. Looking around I keep an eye out for known troublemakers and those who might have joined the cause of making the city worse.

Thinking of trouble the Captain's words come back to me and I think of goblins and other problems and make plans to head out on my off time and scout the area, maybe make a visit to the goblins for a good fight. I chuckle to myself at that thought. "I really have been climbing the walls if I want to go play with goblins in their home terf." I mutter again keeping an eye out as I turn a corner. As I do I catch sight of Gareth, my older brother, heading my way and I frown. Not one of the worst of my many siblings, he tended to the overly protective, but not a favorite either and I once again feel very glad I missed meeting any of my family while on suspension. 

Trying not to catch his attention, at which I fail miserably as there are not many 5'2" females in the Militia, he waves excitedly like an overeager puppy and bounds towards me not noticing the people who are jostled by the action. Leaving a path of glaring and loudly complaining fellow street goers in his wake he finally stops near me nearly vibrating with too much good will and energy. "Hey little sister, still playing dress up in men's clothing and pretending to be tough?" he grins looking as though he expects me to join in the fun, laugh, toss my armor away, and go back to being a proper woman. Instead frown a bit as I look up to his face which is nearly a foot above mine. "Good day Gareth, I am afraid I do not know what you are talking about but I must go, I am still on patrol."

Looking a little deflated by my obvious lack of the expected enthusiasm at giving up what he seems to consider a great joke he grabs my shoulder causing me to need to resist the urge to break his hand, "Sharai, don't keep doing this non-sense. You had your fun, you got to make a point though no one understands why you felt the need to. Just give it up and come home." I twitch a bit at his words and twist out of the hold he had me in, "Gareth don't touch me, what is it with people touching me recently?" I mutter to myself not really seeing the look that crosses my brother's face, "For the last time, I am not playing a game, I am not making a statement, I couldn't go home regardless of if I had this career. What is so hard to understand that you all feel like you can just show up and I will suddenly change my mind?" This is said in a quiet but frustrated tone and I remind myself of control and the need to use it. Taking a breath I am about to continue when I realize that my bear of a brother is towering over me, his shoulders which bulge with muscle from long hours in the forge working as a blacksmith, causing a dark shadow as he blocks the sun, "I dunno if you realize this sis but you are a girl." as though this should come as a surprise, "And girls do NOT run around in armor, waving a sword, playing soldier. What makes you think they even take you seriously eh? You run around here as though anyone actually believes you are a threat. You should hear the jokes about you in the Knave! You have any idea how many heads I have to bust cause of that?"

I look at him surprised then shake my head with a sigh, "Gareth." he interrupts, "I didn't think so, you have no idea what your actions are doin to Ma and Da do ya?" muttering some unflattering things about my family in general and my brother in particular under my breath I continue on my patrol, my brother following me trying to look fierce and looming, "And who asked you to?" I ask him over my shoulder, "Why would I need you to ask for that? It is what a brother does, he protects his sisters and their reputation." he sounds hurt and tries to hide it, "Not that you have left much reputation for me to salvage." I grunt a bit then look over, "You ready to hear me yet?" I ask and my brother looks even more hurt at my words but shrugs, "If you all would just let go and let me live my life then you wouldn't need to bust heads, which I would really rather you not do as I might have to be the one to drag you to the Stockade for it." at his astonished look I continue, "You should just feel lucky I haven't heard of any complaints about you and don't think I wouldn't do it either brother or no now if you would excuse me, give my love to the family, I have work to do." with that I leave him standing there looking lost and continue on my patrol, knowing this is not the last I will hear from him, or any of them and not looking forward to a united front.

A New Day

I watch as the Captain tears out of the stuffy enclosed room as fast as she can without running. I cannot help but smile a bit but the expression soon fades to the worried frown I seem to have worn for days. I look down at the reports I finished some moments ago and sigh heavily before looking at the elderly woman who has kept watch on her reluctant ward, the poor woman looks as tired as I feel. Picking up everything I brought I make sure to leave nothing behind, the last thing I need is to have to spend yet more time coming back here. I pause a moment as I realized I can no longer avoid using the Captains office while she is off duty, while I may have hated this stuffy room at least it offered me an excuse not to use the office. I cannot help but think of it as her's and feel horribly uncomfortable feeling like I am taking it over. "Just for now," I mutter, "she will be back soon enough." Feeling a bit better with this assertion, if only to myself I nod to the woman who takes no notice of me as I begin to head out.

Passing through the door I observe that the Templar who has been statue like in his ever present stance by the door, is conspicuously missing. "No reason for him to stick around I suppose." I mutter to myself then frown as I realize how much I am doing that lately. I shake my head at myself and begin to head out of the Temple proper pausing at each of the side Temples to pay my respects to the gods. I figure at this point I can use all the help I can get. That done, though not without a frown and quick glance away by the priests, I step out onto the streets. I pause briefly before sighing and figuring it is time once again for patrol, so resolved I begin heading to the Stockaid to drop off the reports in the Captain's office. As I walk I cannot help occasionally reaching up to touch the hilt of my sword and think back on the faces of the men who died that night, the men I killed.

I remember it so clearly, the smell of that room, the sounds, the smoke, and how I had memorized the positions of each man before visibility is lost. How focused my mind was in that moment and how clearly I could plan every move, every motion as though time stopped. I watched as I did the same moves that I had practiced hundreds of times in the graveyard against the undead. The thing I remember most though was when it was over and I saw their faces looking at me, their dead eyes staring into mine with accusation. It no longer mattered then that we were on separate sides of a conflict that can only end in blood, it didn't matter that they spent days torturing my Captain for the same reason they would happily kill me. All that mattered then, was that it was my hand that ended their life, and that has haunted me since. Suddenly I feel something moving towards my face and without thinking I grab it and squeeze hard.

A loud "EEeek!," is the result and I realize that a soft female hand is gripped tightly in my own. Looking down the arm attached to this hand and to the face of the owner I see my eldest sister looking back at me in pained shock. I release her hand and use the one that had so recently captured her own to rub my eyes. "What do you need Lyra? I do not have a lot of time today." I can feel the offended waves roiling off of her and hear her suck in a sharp affronted breath before the explosion of her words roll over me. "What do I need? What do I need indeed! I am not the one standing in the middle of the Gazebo mid morning staring into space like a lack wit touching a worn out hunk of iron you claim to be a sword. Isn't it enough you stain our family with this foolishness of yours, that now you have to act like an imbecile in public to boot. You realize don't you, that you have made our family a laughingstock?" Taking my hand from my eyes I look at her tiredly and see her in her best dress breathing heavily, red faced. I realize then that I don't know her any longer, that my parents and siblings and the whole street of people I thought I knew while growing up, they are all strangers to me now. What is worse by far, is that I fear that the one I know the least, is myself.  She must have taken my silence to mean I have relented because she seems to calm down and step towards me putting a timid hand on my arm, the first time any of my family, barring Kethren of course, has touched me in kindness since the night I left. "Don't you see what this choice of yours is doing to you? To us? Look at you, exhausted and staring at nothing in the middle of the street. This isn't right and it isn't healthy. If you come home I can talk to Ma and Da for you and we can work something out. Maybe Jethra will still take you, scars and all. Wouldn't you like that now that you have had your little adventure? You got what you wanted right? You have made your grand statement."

In that moment I can see it, what she describes. I can see myself in a dress very like her own, a fish sellers wife or maybe a bakers. Having child after child to a husband who spends the money he earns on drink and prostitutes as I saw so often from the other families on our street. Living in a one room shack because we could not afford better and watching as the meager food I am expected to cook goes directly into his gut with little to nothing for myself and the guaranteed endless supply of children. I can feel from this vision, the helplessness of the situation, the feeling that my life is not my own and see myself going deeper into oblivion until I simply fade away and cease to exist. Blinking I look at her a moment before sighing and patting her callused hand with my scarred one. "I am sorry Lyra, I don't think it will work." It takes her a moment for my words to sink in, but when they do she yanks her hand off of my arm and begins to stalk away. Three paces from me she turns opens her mouth a time or two before her poisoned words find their way past an angry mouth. "Just so you know, if you end up dead the family isn't paying for you death rights. Your new family, the militia," she spits the last word out with hate, "can take care of that for you. Just remember I gave you a chance to be a proper woman but I guess that is just too good for you isn't it? Oh and the rest of the family will probably come find you at some point. Just to give you the same opportunity I did, I guess they might as well not bother. For some reason we were worried about you, wasted effort if you ask me." With that her nose points skyward, she turns sharply on her heel, and off she stomps with angry little steps. Every inch of her the indignant little female, the very personification of everything they want me to be, the very thing I tried  so hard to be, and failed for so many years. With another tired sigh I finish my walk to the Stockaid noting which of the men are on rotation and which are off patrol, noting the disgusted looks from some, and the friendly demeanor from others.

My final thought before I head out on patrol myself is that the ones who greet me with a smile are the ones I trust the least. Perhaps I am becoming paranoid but then perhaps that will save my life. Touching my sword again I remember the feel of the Captains daggers and begin planning a trip to the weapon smith for a steel sword, iron does not stay sharp nearly long enough for my comfort with the winds of change from storm I feel brewing.

A Dark Path

I try to stride down the street as I normally do thankfully well hidden under my cloak serving to hide who I am for now. Thoughts racing through my mind, last night with the rebels and their ultimatum, my stupid move attacking them all knowing it was a lost cause but having to anyway. "Well I guess you are going to learn strategy one way or another aren't ya girl." I mutter to myself as I try not to draw attention to myself. I breath shallowly so as not to aggravate her many wounds. "F-ing bastards, I hope the Captain skins them all, every one of them. I would happily assist." she touches the dagger at her waist a moment before continuing on to the Temple.

Arriving at the Temple with a brief relieved sigh she finds a priest and approaches. "Excuse me, might I get a bit of healing please." she asks politely. The priest turns at her address and looks her up and down, "Yes of course, I need to see what I am healing though girl." he says gesturing at the cloak. With a nod I remove the cloak revealing my wounds, armor, and gender which draws a disapproving frown from the priest, "Yes well," he sniffs, "Let's get this over with so you can go out and get yourself hurt again, hmm girl?" I try not to show any expression on my face at this patronizing speech though I am sure I failed in some way as the priest continued to look more and more like he was sucking on something sour. The process did not take long and once it had finished I felt great though the memory of the pain I had been in remained. I bow gratefully to the priest, "Thank you very much." he looks at me and sniffs again, "Well go on girl, I do not have all day to waste healing little girls playing soldier." So saying he turns and strides away his back radiating offense. With a sigh I turn to head back to the Stockaid and my waiting men.

As I step into the Rose Gazebo I see a small green creature appear out of no where and attack a civilian. Realizing what I am seeing I yell at the nearest person to sound the alarm that we are under attack, draw my sword, and skewer the creature on the end of my blade. As the goblin, as it obviously is upon closer inspection, gasps it's last I listen to the screaming from other attacks and begin running to the nearest finding yet another goblin trying to kill as many people as it can. This goblin too meets it's end by dent of my blade, not long after I notice a couple of my fellow militia running up. "The goblins are attacking, have the men spread out in groups and take them out, I want every street searched, capture one alive if you can." With that they run off and I continue looking for the little monsters finding 4 more of them. They seem remarkably eager to die as each time I try and take on alive the thing would spear itself on my sword before it lost consciousness. Finding no more goblins as I patrol the city looking for them and hearing reports that no others have been found I head back to the stockaid and my waiting briefing with the men.

Entering the room set aside for this briefing I nod to the men assembled and stride to the front of the room. Once I arrive at the front of the room I wait for the talk to die down and gaze serenely at the assembly. Once the room is silent and all eyes are on me I begin. "I will make this quick and simple, early this morning the Captain was taken by the rebel group. Until she returns I am acting Captain as per the Commander, if you have complaints see me after the meeting and we will...talk." I look them in the eyes a moment making my meaning plain, "We will be setting up groups, I will choose 3 to come with me to the noble district where we will begin questioning nobles for involvement in the rebel groups and by the gods be subtle, the rest of you will do patrols as per norm but I want to questioning the people on your routes about the rebel group and what you can learn about them, again subtlety is your friend. I doubt we can keep it quiet that we are searching for long but the longer we can the better for this city. Any questions?" when no one speaks I nod, "Alright Varkez, Rand, and Berric you are with me the rest of you get back on your beats. With that I head out the door followed by my three chosen men.

Slow Burning Rage

I slide silently through the streets feeling the rage burning within me as I consider just how close I have come to capturing Sebastion and how very bitter the failure was for being so close. Twice now, the first time stealing my armor and beating me unconscious and the second time using another smoke bomb to escape. I ran up and down that street and search it carefully but nothing. I am not on duty and so what am I to do with my time? I train, I will get stronger, faster I will do everything I can to beat him next time we meet. I want to be ready.

I feel the reassuring weight on my back as I stride through the streets considering my options and what I want. When I spoke last to the captain, her words sparked something in my mind that has only grown with my recent experiences.  I realize I have not truly had a purpose beyond a foolish little girls dream. In this world how could I ever become a knight? The men who run this city will never allow such a thing, they need to feel powerful and important which means they could never let a woman have a position to kick their asses. I snort at the thought. Oh yes, we must protect our precious egos, except I do not feel I have much of one anymore. Too much has happened for me to feel like I need their approval. I admire certain people now, like the captain, but honestly I want to become a warrior in truth. I want to serve with a purpose and I am beginning to wonder if my current career will offer that. Oh I protect the city, that is true, but I protect it from drunks and thieves. I want to be a force of good, to strive for something greater than self, how can I do that catching pickpockets and brawlers? Not that I am doing any of that right now. I kick a wayward bottle into a wall where it shatters into brightly sparking shards and I look up at the sky. What use am I now?

I try and think but am filled with self pity and doubt, feeling disgusted with myself I shake the thoughts loose and go to the graveyard to kill more undead. At least they make good vessels through which to vent my rage. I draw my sword for a moment before I enter the gates and stare at the blade a moment, enjoying the feel of the weapon in my hands and marveling at the fact that I can legally wield it, that I can learn to use something that feels so right. Something inside me surges, a focus I have never before known centers my thoughts and I feel ready to take on anything. As I enter the graveyard and begins my hunt I begin to feel the joy of the fight but honed with that intense focus into something more and I leave a trail of twice dead bodies in my wake, each wearing the face of Sebastion in my mind.

Did that hurt?

Night has covered the city and matches my mood perfectly. Dark anger seethes within me and I learn a new lesson about myself, I do have limits who would have thought? Dessic and Gorp, the two recruits who were to help me capture that bastard. I feel a need to pay them a visit and I know just where to find them off duty. I move from shadow to shadow passing many of my fellow slum residents a hooded cloak obscuring my face and form. moving towards the knave I see my prey and I move silently behind them. As I follow a ways I hear them laughing about the incident earlier, "Did you see how she went down? That bitch needed to come down a peg or two, not that we couldn't a taken him o'course" Gorp, the ever articulate grunted in what I assumed was agreement.

Thankfully at this hour the streets are quiet and my grabbing the two by the back of their collars is not observed. Moving quickly I take them to a deserted dead-end ally and block their only escape. "Who are you? What do you want? We are militia you know." Dessic says trying to look brave. Gorp attempts to look menacing putting a hand upon the pommel of his sword, this might work if I did not know how inept he was at it's use. I pull my hood down and cross my arms, "Well isn't it fortuitous for you that I am also in the militia. " I must admit that the looks on their faces was somewhat satisfying when my fist connected to them. "You could have taken them could you? I need to come down a peg or two is it? This is why you thought not to do your job?" I spend about 45 minutes working both of them over very well, feeling much better for it. "The next time you feel I need to be taken down a peg or two, do it yourself. If you can find your balls after today." With that I head out of the alley listening to the music of whimpering coming behind me and feeling somewhat satisfied.

Darkened Hearts

Striding down the streets of the slums I see familiar faces, ones I have seen all of my life. Once, they looked on with some amount of fondness when I was a child anyway, then they looked on with appraisal and consideration when I was a young adult. Now, as the see me in my militia armor, the rank of soldier newly visible, they look on with disgust. Every now an then a man will spit in the streets at the sight of me, those same men who would tell stories or give me and the other children an apple in the long hot summers. They do not understand, they do not see me as more then a brood mare or work horse meant to be broken to saddle and ridden for the rest of my days. They fear my physical strength, strength I made sure to gain when I was old enough to begin to turn male heads.

My Captain did warn me before I began. I knew what she said for truth but it still hurts. I figure I will die a spinster, and a virgin. I frown as I consider it. Not that I would want any of these sad excuses for men, as if any one of them could fulfill me. I blush thinking of it. Then again what do I know about what would fulfill me. More I want a man who accepts me, not accepts what he wants me to be then will try to force me to fill that image. I frown angrily, I don't want them anyway,  the pigs!

A man who looks like trouble catches my eye as he sidles up to a large man selling fish, as he taps the man's left shoulder he reaches around the man's other side and grabs a fish hiding it under his cloak with his other hand as the man turns to look at him. "What you want gnat?" the big man asks, "Oh terribly sorry sir, I was just brushing a fly off your back." the would be thief says smoothly. "You are the fly little man." The fish seller says turning back to his wares. I, of course, was on the move when I first saw the man, grabbing the thief by the back of his cloak I put a stop to him pulling his other arm hiding the fish from under his cloak, "This does not belong to you, I say handing the startled fish seller his property. Before the angry trader can react I haul the thief away, the man cursing the entire time. It is a short walk to the stockade and the man is quickly incarcerated and I sigh. Another day, another example of what people are willing to do in my city. Oh well, at least I have a job, more than many can say right now.