Redgenald rode through the streets of Olimpia, his slave-knight a few paces back and to the side, and Kathren next to him, the clopping of their horses' hooves faintly echoing off the surrounding walls. To quickly send the trio on their way, the Senator's men gave Redgenald some horses for them to ride. It was a gesture the inquisitor greatly appreciated, as it turned a trip of hours into a fraction of that.

He could have run there faster with some psy casting, but then he would be running there with psy. Not only would it unnecessarily weaken him, but it also wasn't exactly allowed in the city. At least not for those who weren't nobles or the civic guards.

Citizens weren't hassled if they used castings for everyday tasks or their jobs, but there was an intentionally blurry line of the extent to which they were allowed to use their powers before the guards appeared. What was certain was that if anyone was running about with the capabilities equivalent to a knight, people would take notice and come to investigate what was going on.

Even Redgenald would have to answer uncomfortable questions if he weren't actively performing his duties. He guessed that technically, he was doing that now, but it wasn't nearly as time-sensitive as to make it a good idea to flout the law. Also, he was enjoying the ride. Besides, he understood the regulation.

The streets of Olimpia were packed. It was commonly said to be the largest city in the world, with an estimated population of over two million inhabitants. That was just the city itself, not the surrounding countryside, which could add another million or two, depending on how many tens of miles you extended the search radius.

With such a large population, something always needed to be done or moved. There weren't enough hours in the day, so it spilled over into the night. And with the activity, every kind of supporting occupation also appeared, though none quite reached the same level as their daylight counterparts.

With Travel at all hours not uncommon, no one gave Redgenald and his companions a second look as they traversed the city. Having left the noble district most of an hour ago, their surroundings had steadily taken quite a marked downward turn in the quality of construction and upkeep.

"So why are we going to the Lower Bank?" Kathren asked, speaking up for the first time since they left.

"You don't know?" Redgenald probed rather than answered.

"No. I don't," The woman snapped back, irritation in her voice. "How would I know that? I'm an ex-streetrat turned scout, what would I know about, 'Inquisitor business.'"

"More than most, I would think. Have to keep an eye out for any threats on the street, after all… then again, they wouldn't go around advertising who they are."

"…Are you going to have a conversation, or do you just enjoy making obscure comments to yourself? If so, I can leave you alone."

Looking around to ensure that no one was close enough to overhear, Redgenald nudged his horse closer to the scout's and said in a hushed voice, "The Lower Bank holds the largest Enclaved of Inquisitors within the city."

Body stiffening, the woman looked around furtively, making it evident to anyone looking that she thought she was having an important conversation. "Are— Should… you have told me that?" She almost whispered.

Smiling and chuckling to himself, the inquisitor leaned back and casually replied, "Yeah, it's fine. It's an open secret to those with any power; just don't go around spreading it. Some people might show up and make your life difficult."

Flushing from embarrassment, Kathren lashed out with her reins. She missed the large half-human, but she did cause her horse to dance to the side, making her struggle to regain control for a few seconds. Visibly stabilizing her emotions, the woman finally asked, "Why is the Enclave there? The place is practically a dump. And I thought the main one was within Old Town."

"Old Town?"

"It's what the locals call the Inner District of Olimpia. You know, the original city?"

"Ahh, thank you. And that is the official branch within the city. I know that some old but still influential members of the Order spend their time there, but it isn't where most of the business is conducted. Too many eyes around, and from what I've heard… Old Town is more of a museum than anything else. With the senate a few blocks away, nothing can be done there without the nobles' knowledge, so it was moved quite a long time ago."

"Really? Well, that is… Actually, it explains why none of the gangs expanded into the Lower Bank. I always wondered about that, the place was nearly as bad as the Trench, no reason the gangs shouldn't have ruled it as well."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"And the Trench i— Actually, since I brought you here as a guide, could you give me a brief rundown of all the different areas of the city?"

"Humph," Kathren grunted, then turned away and mumbled, "So you really don't know the area, huh?" But when she turned back, there was a little light in her eyes, and she started rattling off the information. "We landed at the Slips, which is mainly used for passengers and important cargo. We entered the Gala, the westernmost district of the city, which is essentially a massive market and leisure area for the rich. To the east of the Gala is the Noble District, with all of its estates and parks. The Docks are northeast of the Gala, and the Orchard — where we are now — is the farthest northeast of the original wall extensions. Within the center of the Docks, the Gala, the Noble Districts, and the Orchard is Old Town."

"I do think that you are missing a few districts." Redgenald prompted after Kathren fell silent for a few seconds. Whatever was going on in her mind had twisted her features into a look of disgust.

"Not much left," She finally blew out. "The Gala has a bridge over the Louko River to the Upper Bank, and the Orchards have one to the Lower Bank. In between them is the newest and worst district of the city, the Trench."

"Guessing that you don't have good memories of that place?"

"What makes you think I have memories of the place?" Snapped Kathren.

"…Uhh, well, no real reason. Other than that, you know, you said you were born here, you aren't a noble or from a merchant house, and you were a street rat. Not really anywhere else you could have grown up." Not to mention that you sneer at the name every time you say it, thought the inquisitor, though he didn't voice his observation, not wanting to ruin their conversation.

"Hmm…" The woman grunted, appearing embarrassed for a moment before she flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Well, you're right… I hate the place. For over ten years, I have traveled across the Republic. I haven't seen it all, but I think I've seen more than most. In all that time, I have seen places worse than the Trench… but I haven't seen anywhere that is close to as hopeless.

"That's… an odd statement. How did you come to that conclusion?" Redgenald said with a wrinkled brow.

After a couple of moments of considering whether she should respond, Kathren finally started speaking. "…I've been to mountain villages that should have been abandoned. Places that the young had all moved away from, or were never born to begin with. Old men and women were huddled within crumbling walls around fires that had long since gone out, with only their threadbare blankets offering any warmth. Most cases don't reach that extreme, but I have seen droughts, floods, famine, and massive fires. Things that destroy people's lives, making it so all they own is what they are carrying."

She stopped at that point and looked into the sky, a bitter smile appearing on her lips. "Desperate they might be, but they still get up and march forward. They can look to the horizon and find those who escape — or never experienced — the disaster and build a new place for themselves. Even the old dying in their homes isn't exactly hopeless. It can't be because throughout their lives, they had any number of opportunities to change their fate. For good or bad, they didn't, and in the end, that is what it resulted in."

By this point, the trio had moved through the Orchard district and was halfway over the bridge, linking it to the Lower Bank. No one else happened to be on the road, and with the fog creeping off the river and onto the ends of the bridge, it was like they were standing in the sky. All around them, above and below, were twinkling lights.

Kathren threw her arm out to the northwest, motioning at what was the darkest area within the city, though that was only in comparison. It might not have had the street lights of the noble district or the illuminated window frames of the wealthy living in the Orchard, but there were enough dots of light to give a general shape to the district.

It really did look like a trench. Redgenald had no idea why, but from the bordering wall of the Lower Bank until he lost sight in the darkness, the area looked like it had been built on land that had been scooped out by a massive bucket. The half-human couldn't even see the bottom-most point, as his elevation wasn't enough.

"The ones born in there, all they grow up seeing is the walls around them. A lot of them end up never leaving, as they never sign up for their term in the legion. And when everyone is dodging their obligated duty, it becomes the norm. The expectation. After all, they can scrape out an existence within those walls, so it has to be better than anywhere else, right? By the time they realize what they have really signed up for, if they ever do, they are so embittered that they push the same choice they made onto those who don't know any better. It's a cycle that has no end. What's worse is that they will fight to keep the status quo."

"So, how did you get out?"

"Ha!" Scoffed the woman. "Same way most of the others who end up leaving do. Get on the bad side of some gang, and have no other options other than signing up or dying in an alley. Though I dreamed of leaving before then, I would have never done so without a push."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing you are good at pissing people off." Redgenald idly commented.

"What!?" Snapped back Kathren, clearly working herself into a rage, "What do you mean it's good I piss people off? And are you saying that you're happy my entire childhood blew up in my face? That I was forced to run for my life?"

"No," Redgenald calmly replied. "I am saying what happened to you made you who you are and brought you here. I am at least thankful… after all, it wouldn't be the same. I've kind of gotten used to you tagging along from one mess to another. It's almost like I have a sidekick."

Kicking his heels into his horse, he set it walking again, leaving a flustered Kathren in his wake. "Oh, is that right?!" She suddenly shouted, coming out of her mental funk. "I guess it's good that somebody enjoys moving from one disaster to another!"

"If you would be so kind, could you spend a little less time shouting and a little more guiding me to the Drunken Jester. That is why I brought you here after all. Chop chop."

"Oh!? Is that so? Well then, right this way, Milord."Sticking up her nose and trotting past the inquisitor, the woman led them down a side street, but Redgenald did catch a faint scowl of irritation on her face. It was far better than the forlorn despair that had been blanketing her mood since they had arrived within the city.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.