Bitter Cold Truth: A Tale of the Everburning City

(4-2) At the summits of power

The Agora wasn't actually the name of the building. Samuel remembered that much from the first time he had taken a tour as a child. The Agora was simply the auditorium inside.

This was, Samuel remembered, because there was nothing else in the building that could capture the memory after stepping into the auditorium itself.

The seats stretched across and away from where Samuel stood like the skyline of the City, so distant that Samuel felt he could spend an hour trying to reach the other side. Stone benches were arrayed in a series of expanding rows, so high they began to blur together in the highest sections.

And above them rested that terrifying dome, a mimicry of the sky as it somehow enveloped an auditorium that could seat a hundred thousand people inside. The auditorium's ceiling was a solid, unscarred sheet of grey stone that might have passed for a low-hanging cloud system.

The only decoration that ordained this massive auditorium were five immense tapestries that hung from the dome. Samuel recognised them immediately, as would anyone in the City. Each of them was commissioned to pay respect to the heroism of those who fought to defend the City during one of the last six invasions.

Most of each of the tapestries were hard to see from the distance Samuel sat at, but the centrepieces were easy to make out. Samuel recognised the first tapestry from the image of Crafter Starvald Denerim collapsed against a piece of stone as fire burned in the distance.

Samuel took the nearest flight of stairs up to a mostly unoccupied section of bench and stopped to take a look at what was happening below. He quickly checked his pocket watch and decided to sit and wait for a recess before he asked to speak to Silas Miller's mother.

"Bertram's description of you is surprisingly thorough, Inspector," someone said from behind Samuel. He turned to see a young woman wearing a sword sitting behind him. Part of her face was hidden behind the shadows of her hair as it swooped over one eye, and her gaze had the same hard, humourless look that Samuel remembered seeing a lot of a few hours ago in Oversight's headquarters.

"Are you the evaluator Bertram asked to keep an eye on me while I was here?" Samuel asked, taking a moment to get a thorough look at the pommel of the sword the woman wore.

The insignia was a bird, resting on a single branch, pecking at a crescent moon. It took Samuel a moment to realise the branch was actually a bar.

Much like evaluators, military officers carried weapons made with Coldstone to signify the authenticity of their office. Officer swords were unique to their owners, even if most of the pommels were standard. Most army officers had a number of bars running through a metal hoop, to denote their rank. More bars meant a higher rank.

But certain offices were given a unique pommel. The Lord Captain, his Secretaries, and the commanding officers of any airship.

Her sword's design depicted a bird resting on a single bar, in front of a crescent moon.

"Wait, are you the Lieutenant of the Midnight Songbird?" Samuel asked, pushing himself back to his feet.

"I am," the woman said, hopping down a level to meet Samuel. She moved with that same disturbing, nearly unnatural grace that was starting to seem common to shadows. "Lucille Kendor."

"Samuel Fraser," he introduced himself as he extended his hand.

Samuel shook her hand, impressed but not surprised by the grip of someone used to wielding weapons. He gestured to the bench he had been sitting on, leaving his hand extended until Lieutenant Kendor moved to sit.

As the lieutenant moved, Samuel found himself examining her peculiar coat. The design and cut was a mechanic's coat, with sleeves that attached by snap clasps to the body. But the coat had a strange, swirling grey appearance that stretched across its length and defied any discernible pattern.