Discordant Note | TBATE

Chapter 70: Oppression

Toren Daen

The air of Fiachra was a biting kiss on my cheek, the January weather unabating and demanding. Though the streets radiated warmth under my feet, the wind didn't care.

I was walking toward East Fiachra, intent on checking up on my thieves-in-arms. There wasn't any snow on the roofs, but I was certain it would eventually come. The city of canals never went a winter without a storm.

I walked over one of the canal bridges, noting the lack of people out and about in East Fiachra. I slowed in my trek, sensing something amiss.

It was late afternoon right now, and usually I would see some people out and about on the streets. The fact that I couldn't made me uneasy for a reason I couldn't define.

Lady Dawn, I asked my bond, jumping to the rooftops on instinct. Do you sense anything off? See anything amiss?

"There is no foot traffic in these streets," the asura said, affirming my earlier observation. "The common folk should be walking home from their work at this time of day. Yet you can see lights on in most of the windows visible."

I squinted, peering around. I was in the lower-middle-class area of East Fiachra, close to where my old apartment used to be. As such, I was able to spot a dozen lights on.

So people are home, just not about, I thought, frowning. What could this mean?

My bond and I were in agreement that it couldn't be good.

The streets were surprisingly empty all throughout East Fiachra, even where I was used to seeing those down on their life wallowing in the low shadows and cold corners of the road. Trepidation grew as I moved from rooftop to rooftop. But I soon noticed people out and about.

Except they were not natives. I could tell that simply from their blatant mana signatures, radiating outward as they walked in pairs. I squinted as I spied them from a rooftop, noting their Doctrination robes with growing anger. The robes were noticeably shorter than the usual style, and from how the men stepped lightly, I realized it was to avoid getting mud on their clothes.

Of course, they couldn't stain their pristine dark coats.

But once the flash of anger passed, this only increased my growing desperation. If the Doctrination was doing something in the streets, were Naereni, Wade, Karsien, and Hofal alright? How was Greahd faring? Was she safe?

I couldn't seem to move fast enough as these questions sounded in my head. I bounded over rooftops, using controlled bursts of telekinesis and freerunning to move through the city. Now that I knew what to look for–what to sense for–I was able to feel the mana signatures of Doctrination vicars patrolling all about East Fiachra. The numbers made my fists clench with worry. Easily several dozen pairs were patrolling the streets.

I dropped into the Cistern without bothering to cushion my fall. I focused my senses out with a hint of desperation, but I immediately felt relief when four mana signatures blared to life in my mind.

But before I even walked into the Cistern's main room, I felt the tension thick in the air. I slowed, entering from the side.

Naereni was curled up on one of the couches, holding onto Apple the skaunter, who was for once not panting like a dog. If a mana beast could look sullen, I thought, that would be it.

Karsien was staring at the map, his hands clenched tight. Hofal was sitting in another chair, his eyes slightly glazed over. A broken pipe sat in his hands.

And Wade... Wade looked furious. His knuckles dripped red blood onto the floor, their ruined surfaces bleeding profusely. I could see red spots on the wall where he'd punched the bricks with his bare hands.