Chapter Twenty-Five

‘Soon enough the rich took over the cities from coast to coast. As they did, they erected churches for the Nine Wardens. The Wardens below were given contracts to keep the peace, but in reality, they were just being paid to do the bidding of those in power.’ 

Creaton was used to being second in command, that’s all he knew his entire lifetime. First as a child, he helped his uncle¾or who he thought was his uncle¾by pushing the clam cart down by the docks. The sailors would topple him over most of the time, paying no mind to his scraped knees and elbows. His uncle would laugh, not wanting to make the customers mad over a dirty little boy.  

Not long after, he joined the Wardens by some happenstance. Any boy in the city would have loved to be in his shoes, and at first, he thought he had hit the jackpot. He figured he would learn how to fight with swords and how to fend off men like the sailors. However, that had just been a dream. Instead of swordplay, it started off as hard labor. The elders said it was to strengthen his body for what was to come, but Creaton figured it was because no one else wanted to do it. When he first met Caid, a young boy in the labor crew who was so much like him, he was surprised that someone seemed so driven to complete tasks, rather than being self-pitying. Caid’s drive seemed to give everyone else the strength to be like him. Creaton found he dug faster, ran harder, and worked longer after he met Caid.  

It wasn’t until his late teenage years Caid and he had their first personal encounter with each other. But Creaton wasn’t happy with his duties as a warden, and the first night he was sent to kill for them, he faltered, almost costing his team their chance to become wardens. That was the night he had first laid eyes on young Creft, not yet the seer he would someday become.  

When Creaton took his daliwin and ran away, he was certain they would follow him, and send him to the Nine Wardens above. However, for reasons unknown to him, they let him go, only telling him to destroy his daliwin. He entered the service of Parian’s Envoy and was made to walk the streets.  

He hated this work less. He felt he helped to keep people safe and used his skills for the good of others. He was taught how to use a sword the Envoy way and, with practice, he became quite talented at it. His teachers praised him and made it known he was one of their quickest pupils. Creaton moved up in the ranks but was still always under someone else’s thumb.  

When he became head envoy and met Creft properly for the first time, he thought he had made it to the top. When Creft returned his affections, he was head over heels. Yet, he soon realized even with the love Creft had for him, he was still just a second. He was still laboring, just in a different sort of way.  

That was what Creaton felt he was born for, to be second to a greater man, a better cause. Caid was right; they needed all the help they could muster. Creaton knew some would have already turned on him. Others may still listen to the badge he had lost in the fire, but he would only find out by giving it a try. The worst that could happen would be that he was outnumbered and thrown into the cells of the city buildings. Maybe that would be better anyhow. Seer Creft and Overseer Krossis were probably dead, and the city would soon see war amongst its numbers.  

Creaton rounded the corner into what was once, in his opinion, the most beautiful district in the city. Parian was now a smoldering mess of ash and dust. Creaton marveled at how fast men could destroy what had taken centuries to build. He wondered if the other areas of Parian were burning as well, but he had too much to do to check on them. The sight of utter destruction before him urged him to double his pace, continuing toward the District Hall.  

The District Hall of Parian was unlike any of the other buildings in Maralay, and Creaton doubted even rioters could take it down. Standing over three hundred feet tall, the building was completely made of metal; its outside exterior was a gleaming, shiny metal Creft had a name for, but Creaton had forgotten. The building was without windows on the lower level and had one door in the very center. Once in the building, there was no means of quick escape. This was where Parian housed their criminals, from thieves to murderers. Each was housed in a cell and each crime had a tier. Those convicted of petty theft were housed on the second floor, but more serious criminals were housed in the higher levels, where it was extremely hot during the summer months and extremely cold in the winter.   

Right now, Creaton was only going to the first floor of the building, where his office and the offices of his deputies were located. Creaton took the steps more slowly with the fear of never leaving these halls. He wondered what floor they would put him on if he was arrested. He looked up to the top of the building, quickly looking back down with a sickness in his gut. For the murder of a seer, they would surely put him on the top level. He shuddered at the thought, but he had to try. Caid was right, they needed assistance, or they would get nowhere in the coming war.  

Creaton wrapped his fingers around the doorknob, taking one last deep breath. With a single pull, the door swung open, and he entered what was a mostly empty greeting hall. Normally, two guards would have been posted at the entrance to check credentials before anyone could enter, but today, there was no one.  

Even the common area was deserted. Many of the envoys would take their breaks out on the chairs and couches during the early morning, but today, there was not a single soul there. Creaton walked down the first corridor to his left. His office was toward the end of the hall, but he didn’t expect to find anyone there, however, he could probably find his one-shot and that could be of some small assistance.  

Creaton heard no one as he walked to his office. When he opened his door, he froze in shock. There, pinned to the wall, were Creaton’s four deputies. Each one had been shot through the gut at close range, and had bled out all over the floor, but not before they had been nailed to the back wall of the office. Someone had taken their time after the murders, writing horrible things all over Creaton’s desk in the blood of his deputies.  

One referred to his relationship with Creft and how it was not the way of the Nine Wardens above. Another message told him how he would go to the depths of Anell when he perished. Other messages threatened to gut him and hang him by his entrails. Whoever had done this had not been a sane individual.  

Creaton covered his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. The stench almost made him want to vomit, but he held it together, backing out of the room and right into someone behind him.  

Creaton let out an involuntary scream, quickly turning to face whomever he had run into. Another scream filled the air as Creaton jerked back toward his office door. The two men locked eyes- the boy was no older than twenty and had pale blond hair; Creaton knew him as Tic, but he was sure that wasn’t his real name.  

“You scared the living hell out of me,” Creaton said, noting that Tic was not armed.  

Tic looked more shocked and frightened than Creaton was, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.  

“What are you doing here?” Creaton asked, catching his breath in big gulps of air.  

“I could ask you the same question,” Tic replied.  

The two men stood staring at one another as Creaton assessed Tic and tried to figure out his presence here with four dead deputies behind him. Four men he had trusted with his life for the past ten years. Four men who had been pinned to the wall as if they were nothing more than a city map to be put on display.  

“Did you kill my men?” Creaton asked, but he knew the answer to that question already. If he had suspected Tic, he would have already killed the boy.  

Tic shook his head. “They were like that when I arrived this morning. They had been gathering troops to patrol the district proper, but it doesn’t really matter much anymore, does it?”  

Tic sounded deflated. Creaton supposed he was still quite young and probably was still green to the darker side of law enforcement, but in these times, he would learn quickly.  

Creaton stepped forward, shutting the door to block out the smell and sight of the dead men.  

“We will worry about burying them later, right now, we have other problems to solve,” he said as the door latched behind him.  

Tic looked beyond him, taking a final deep breath. “There are more of us trainees on the first floor, some guards of the cells are here too. Others are out in the street, but I am not sure what they are accomplishing out there. There are a few who have run from service, as you might imagine. Giving up hope is easy right now.”  

Creaton shook his head. He had expected desertion since there was no one left to guide them through these difficulties. Seer Creft was gone, either dead or in a cell somewhere, and Creaton was now a wanted man.  

“Two questions for you, Tic,” Creaton said.  

“I will do my best to answer,” Tic replied.  

“First, who is leading this regiment of envoys?”  

Tic thought for a moment. “I don’t suppose we have a real leader on this one. A few men have been giving small orders, but until today, it was the deputies.” Tic nodded his head, as if Creaton needed reminding where his deputies were.  

Creaton nodded at Tic to go on.  

“Until today, the deputies made sure that those of us left were well equipped and briefed every morning.”  

“Who would still follow me, Tic? How many of you believe the nonsense you have heard from the seers in other districts?” Creaton asked.  

“Not one of us believes that horseshit,” Tic said. “We know better than to believe those who also send men to burn our walls. Many of us hoped you would return, deputies included, others thought you had died in the fire, killed by the same men who took Seer Creft.”  

Creaton let out a small sigh of relief. It was unlikely that the envoys of Parian would number enough to effectively defend the city, but it was better than nothing and it seemed like he could convince them to at least meet with Caid.  

“Good, I need you to gather all the men and bring them back to the hall. I will get those four cleaned up and ready for a proper send-off to the Nine Wardens above. Once the men are gathered, let them know there is a plan forming, and I will address them myself,” Creaton finished.  

Tic nodded his head and turned without hesitation. That was the good thing about young envoys, they listened without question. It would be a few more years before Tic decided he had an opinion of his own to express. By that time, they could all very well be living a different life. Maybe there would be no envoys, maybe there would be no Parian.  

Creaton waited until Tic was out of sight and then walked back into his office.