The streets were quiet. The life that had teemed inside the bustling city felt muted, even at midday. Ohacha stood by the window in his guestroom at Patzau Yohati’s estate. He watched as people hurried about. All was nervous. All was calm. It was the kind of calm felt when two swordsmen duel: blade to blade; a life hanging in the balance of readiness and concentration. People no longer wandered the streets. Only those with somewhere to be braved the open streets, despite the violence being contained to smaller pockets outside the city walls.

Despite his repeated sightings, Patzau Yohati had yet to make time to meet and it was getting on Ohacha’s nerves. The staff at the Patzau’s grand palace estate ensured him repeatedly that the Guildmaster was simply too busy out in the city. They would never tell him when Yohati might be back.

Ohacha had believed it the first few days, but now he felt disregarded. He had seen Reah on several occasions. The Patzau’s wife was always kind, but never interested in speaking business on behalf of her husband. Nor could she ever seem to comment on his whereabouts. All that considered, she was cordial and polite.

Yohati’s daughter was another disaster. In the midst of all the loss and chaos, the girl had made time to plan some sort of ball; inviting a significant number of rich and young people from across the city to mingle with high-ranking officials. They were loud and obnoxious in their jubilance. Guests would arrive in scores with their fine clothes and fancy jewels while the serving staff whispered stories of family members missing and homes destroyed. Cask always had a knack for people.

Perhaps, Ohacha considered, they’re simply rumours. Stories and anecdotes exaggerated by the long chain of repetition. How else could these people celebrate amidst the turmoil? As it turned out, the whispers held truth. The only problem was that they were worse.

That afternoon, Rolena returned. Ohacha had been practicing swordsmanship in the garden with Cask when one of the estate guards appeared. Gaba’ké left with the man, and returned with gaunt and haggard looking Rolena. She smiled softly, seeing them. Sergeant Ashill had followed through on her promise.

Ohacha’s face lit up with surprise and he abandoned his training blade. He wiped the sweat from his brow and ran across the small clearing, stopping just a few steps from her. She looked terribly frail. Her face and hands were caked with dirt and grime. Her long hair was unkept and knotted. Her calm confidence was absent, or perhaps simply drowned by heavier feelings. He stood awkwardly, not sure how to proceed. I had given up hope on her, and now as if by miracle she’s here and alive.

Until Yuromi’s visit, Ohacha had presumed her dead like uncle Aramuk and Lord Kulimas. Another lost spirit consumed by the conflict between the Krimas family. One of so many. And yet here she stood. Despite himself, his title, and the smell of death that lingered around her, he embraced her gently and she fell into him. Cask and Gaba’ké wrapped them both up in one large embrace. Held by them, Rolena cried in their arms.

After a good meal and much-needed rest, they swapped stories. Ohacha spoke of his uncle’s death openly for the first time. He spoke of his stolen fortune, the soldiers slaughtered, the visit from Sergeant Ashill, and Yohati’s evasiveness.

Rolena described her own version of events, starting at the auction house and Lord Kulimas’s suicidal attack. Then her arrest by the Casoyans and how her temporary holding devolved into a nightmare; horrific conditions in the dungeons, overwhelmed and neglectful soldiers, mass executions, the stench of death and feces. She couldn’t bring herself to describe the violence inside the cells nor how the bodies were haphazardly dragged out and discarded. How, over the week, the numbers inside the cells never dwindled. New bodies appeared after the old ones were hauled out. She told them of the terrifying Aginjigaade that had come and interrogated Bartiin’s soldiers and revealed that Bartiin had escaped.

She finished her tale with her release. Soldiers came and hauled her from her cell without warning. “I thought it was finally my turn” she explained. “I thought they were going to take me to the executioners block.” Instead, they led her through the stench of death and into open air. “Outside, the air was clean but the mud outside was slick with blood.” Crows, kites, and gulls encircled the walls, waiting to feed on the massive pyres of bodies that smouldered. She remembered retching but nothing was there to come up. Somewhere through her tale, she had started crying. Rolena blinked and wiped her tears and Cask set a protective hand on her shoulder. “I was marched across the grounds and dumped out onto the streets with nothing. I was starving. I didn’t know where I was. I hadn’t been sleeping. It took me all day to find my way back.”

Ohacha’s grip tightened on the edge of the chair. Hearing her retelling made his blood boil. With each new revelation, Caso seemed less the opulent paradise and more the place of damnation. Coming here had been a mistake. His mistake; one that had cost them dearly.

It had all been his idea. Casoya. The auction house. Selling the family heirlooms. Demanding they stay for the stupid throne. All of it. And now they had less than what they started with, all at the cost of his uncle’s life. In that moment, Ohacha desired nothing more than to go back and change the past. He would stop himself from coming to this cursed city. He would create a future where Aramuk, Lord Provis, and Ander survived. He would talk his parents out of sailing their armies against his uncle Belvaas. He would do anything to bring them all back. But that wasn’t an option. He sat instead with a broken heart and no plan for the future. And it was spirit-crushing. More than that, it was maddening.

Ohacha stewed, his anger boiling until it reached a crescendo unlike any other in his life. Its all so unfair. How dare he treat us this way. With a sudden intense passion, Ohacha stood, startling everyone. He marched out of the room, descended the stairs, and straight down the laneway towards Patzau Yohati’s mansion.

He passed an unimpressed-looking Fera on his way but he didn’t even spare her a glace. This rage was not for her. As Ohacha marched up the small staircase leading to the main entrance, one of Patzau Yohati’s guards approached.

Ohacha’s frown deepened; he had anticipated obstacles, but now faced with a real person, he felt incapable of simply throwing a punch and running past. Instead, he handed the soldier his sword and marched straight through the door, raising a hand to command silence when the young man protested. The guard, unsure how to react, tailed him with sword in hand and tried to speak reason. Ohacha ignored the man, emboldened by his single-minded mission. Serving staff appeared and their gazes followed the sounds of the commotion.  Ohacha marched the entire way up to Yohati’s third-floor office that overlooked the gardens.

A pair of distracted soldiers lounging outside the office doors watched in shock as Ohacha bustled past them and burst through the double-doors into Patzau Yohati’s office. The house staff froze, wide-eyed, while the two embarrassed soldiers bounded in after him.

Burrenal Yohati, Patzau of the Casoyan Guild of Affairs, sat at his desk on the far side of the room. Across from him on the right sat the largest, meanest looking soldier Ohacha had ever laid eyes on. In fact, he had laid eyes on him once before. He was the big brute at the Auction House; the one that had stood ready to defend Patzau Yohati.  On the brute’s left sat Yohati’s Aginjigaade, Janos Tydana. All three men turned at the intrusion. Patzau Yohati maintained his composure, despite the unexpected interruption, while the other two men turned in shock.

Ohacha had thought intensely about what he would say when the moment he barged into Patzau Yohati’s office to demand an audience with his patron. He had imagined and replayed the moment in his mind numerous times. He had expected to find the old man reading or looking over some notes or calculations. He hadn’t considered that the old Patzau might not be alone. The brazen overconfidence disappeared in a heartbeat. He stood, awkwardly as everyone in the room stared at him.

The two soldiers who bounded into the room behind him moved to grab him by his wrists but Ohacha shook them off and approached the desk, stopping just a few paces away. The office smelled pungent; perhaps some kind of strange fancy perfume. Ohacha ignored the tingle on his nose. He focused instead on Patzau Yohati, ignoring the other two men.

Patzau Yohati looked down and then back up again. Then he spoke calmly as if the sudden intrusion was expected. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, the young prince and I require the room.” Janos and the brute rose from their seats and cast irritated looks at Ohacha as they left. The two door guards followed them out. As the door closed behind him, Ohacha could hear muffled shouting coming from outside the office. “Now, what can I do for you, Prince Krimas?”

“I am ill-content with the way we have been treated. Since the day of my uncle’s murder, you have avoided me and my compatriots. You treat us with disrespect. We have been held at bay with empty words and broken promises and I refuse to let it continue. It is… paramount that I am informed about the criminals responsible for the death of my uncle and the efforts your council is taking to bring them to justice. Despite days and numerous arrests, we have received no information from you, or your guild. Instead, we must rely on rumours and the kindness of strangers. Based on these factors, I can only conclude that the recovery of my family’s assets does not appear to be a priority for you.”

“Is that all?” Yohati asked. He face was still.

“What do you mean is that all? You don’t deny my accusations?”

Yohati remained seated and leaned back in his chair, chin high. “Let me be the first to speak truly honestly with you, young backwater princeling. I can’t deny your accusations because you are absolutely correct; you don’t matter to me. The recovery of your stolen fortune is not my priority, nor is it this city’s priority. I am saddened by your uncle’s death, but without him I have no further interest in you.” Ohacha stood stunned on the other side of Yohati’s desk. He had expected a diplomatic answer. He had expected anger or placating words. Not this. Not blunt truths. “A week should be more than generous, considering the circumstances” Patzau Yohati continued, “Pack your meager belongings and vacate my estate by the end of the week.”

“What?” Ohacha stammered. “Are you serious?”

“Boy, you are the very least of my problems. I bare you no ill will, but I scarcely cared for your late uncle, and I care even less for the rest of your ilk, who remain here leeching off my hospitality like parasites. You imagine yourself important, but you’re not. There are a dozen families in Caso more wealthy and powerful than the kings of Gaag ever were. In my city, you are a small fish; a minnow thinking it deserves a seat amongst the sharks. If we do recover your stolen coin, I’ll ensure it’s returned but I wouldn’t keep my hopes up. You are dismissed.”

Astounded, Ohacha stormed from Yohati’s office. He slammed the door as he left. The brazenness of that man! Ohacha stomped down the stairs amongst the stares of servants, soldiers, and guards alike. None barred his path. As he reached the ground floor, Ohacha threw open the doors with anger-fueled frustration. How dare he! Who does the bastard think he is? Yohati’s words replayed over and over, riling him even further. It took everything in his power not to take back his sword and march back up to Yohati’s office with it in-hand.

The soldiers cast disparaging glares. Ohacha paid them in kind with hateful looks of his own. How could the old man be so depraved? What an uncaring bastard. How could they be so incompetent? The mastermind behind Aramuk’s death was within their grasp and they let him slip away with my fortune! Stolen by criminals on streets claiming to be the safest in the world.

Heaviest of all was the fact that he had made things worse, again. Ohacha now had to stomach Yohati’s true opinion of him. His disregard. His disdain. Yohati sat at the pinnacle of Casoyan power and influence and now it would never be at his hest. The way I just acted? Spirits, I’ve made another enemy. One who’s evicting us.

The implication of Yohati’s orders sunk in for the first time. Ohacha paled, thinking of how he might explain what had happened to Gaba’ké, Cask, and Rolena. How could I have been so stupid? That shame hit him hard. Ohacha had always been a man with few friends, and fewer allies. Yet, he had never before felt so alone and insignificant than in that shameful walk back to the guesthouse. It seemed hard to imagine things could get any worse.

Captain Burm watched nervously as the young prince barged out of the room in a huff. He had been startled when the boy had burst into the room. It wasn’t a good look, being surprised like that. It made him look weak. And that made him angry.

Before dawn, he and his crew had moved the prince’s fortune of silver to Yohati’s estate. It was him, after all, who had sent them to retrieve the stolen coin. How Yohati had come to learn of that particular band of thieves and their hideout in the mountains, Burm hadn’t asked. It was the kind of question that would itch in the back of his mind for a long time, but it was also the kind of question that a man like Burrenal Yohati didn’t want voiced. Not only would he not answer, you’d risk falling out of his favour. And the fact of the matter remained, being in Yohati’s good books rewarded handsomely.

Burm watched the prince descend the stairs and then turned to cast another spiteful look at Capu and Seer. The two soldiers, despite their common lineages, had made themselves into respected warriors. Burm only wished that their parents had given the two idiots a modicum of sense. Letting the prince slip past them into Yohati’s office was a significant and embarrassing blunder, one that had now cost them everything. Burm remained quietly fuming. He’s going to kill us. If we’ve lost our pay for this mistake, I swear I’ll have the bastards rue the day. He swore by the spirits of fire and vengeance. As always, Burm regretted trusting anyone other than Rozi. She might not be as strong a fighter, but at least Burm knew he could count on her.

Yohati summoned Janos and Burm back into his study and Burm inhaled slowly to ready himself for Yohati’s ire. He cast one last spiteful look at the two soldiers and prepared himself for the worst. Capu and Seer withered under his glare.

As Burm reentered, his nose tingled uncomfortably and he wiped his hand across his face to rid himself of the tickle. As he approached the desk he realized, to his own dismay, the coins were gone. They had been sitting there on the desk between them as the prince had entered. Yet, they were nowhere to be seen.

A wave of confusion rocked him. Where? How? He hadn’t left with any silver in hand, had he? Surely not that much. How had Yohati managed to hide the boy’s fortune at the last moment?

“Gal” Yohati said, commanding his attention. “Please return to your seat”

“Uh, yes Patzau” Captain Burm said, sitting once again across from Yohati. He stared unblinking at the place where the stacks of coin had sat just minutes prior. And then, right before his watching eyes, the coins appeared again as if they had never moved. Burm blinked, unable to comprehend. And then saw Janos Tydana’s smile.

“An illusion,” Patzau Yohati answered sternly, “and a damned good one.”

Janos closed his eyes and Burm watched the coins on the table shift from shimmering silver to the colour of deep purple like buds of amethyst. Burm watched in amazement, never one to witness the secret arts of the Aginjigaade. Despite his position, he had only ever been privy to the wild stories told over liquors of men wielding flames like spears, wielding sand as a shield, or dawning tree-bark as living armour. Despite meeting Aginjigaade many times, it was not something witnessed with any regularity.

“If Janos weren’t here with us in that moment,” Yohati continued, “I’d be forced to sit here with a smile and watch that bratty little prince walk out with his whole damned fortune. Are your soldiers outside my door bloody imbeciles or just fucking incompetent?” The older man seethed from the other side of his wooden desk. “How could they let the prince past them? While we’re sitting here divvying up his very fortune… I should have the two of them drowned in the canals for their ineptitude.”

“We dock their pay, hold it back” Burm suggested diplomatically. “This mistake should cost them.”

“No” Yohati snapped. “All of it. They get nothing.”

Shit, Burm thought, I’ll have a mutiny on my hands if they get nothing for this. “Sir, I ask for leniency. These men haven’t slept. They held the line against Mudtown troublemakers for most of the day and then continued to work all through the night to bring the fortune to you. They’ve courageously fought deep in the mountains for the last few months, killing thieves and dissidents as we rooted them out of their dens in the mountains. They can’t get nothing after all that. Let us dock their pay. I myself will handle a severe punishment in excess of yours.”

“I have a solution you’ll both like” Janos chimed in. “Yohati, you pay these men nothing. Make clear the consequences for their incompetence. But, at the same time, you pay Captain Burm a bonus out of what these men would have been paid. You, Captain, pay your men from that bonus out of the very sweet goodness of your heart. Burm gets to appear the strong and loyal captain, Yohati’s punishment is clear and impactful, and the idiots are still paid enough to keep them happy and, most importantly, keep the whole affair secret.”

Burm thought over the Aginjigaade’s suggestion. Its good. Patzau Yohati seemed to share the sentiment and nodded his approval. Janos Tydana smiled innocently. Now thats a smile I can’t trust, Burm thought. Even a soft smile appeared calculated on the cunning man’s face. Everything the Aginjigaade did gave Burm the impression of careful consideration. He made a mental note never to make an enemy of either man at this table. Doing so would be a mistake of the gravest proportions.

That thought reminded him of his own failure. One he made sure neither man would learn of; the escaped hawk-nosed criminal that had burst from the burning building like a demon aflame. It was a tale made for telling. A tale made for spreading his own name and striking fear into his enemies. The whole raid was. But the old Patzau was hardly the forgiving type and he would hear of it if the truth ever came out. Their next target, too, would be blindsided by the attack. For an instant, Captain Burm almost felt remorse but it didn’t last. He had yearned too long for this particular reckoning.  

Unable to bear returning to Yohati’s guest house, Ohacha walked straight out of Yohati’s gates and into the city streets. For the first time in his life, Ohacha walked alone. No Cask. No Gaba’ké. No Rolena. No soldiers. Without bodyguards, he hardly warranted a look from others walking the streets in the late afternoon sun. He walked intentionally, but without specific purpose, seeking only to be alone and elsewhere. His mind was a wash of emotions and he found himself bouncing between bouts of anger, misery, frustration, and melancholy. He passed under the auction house with its towering dome roof. He hardly noticed. In that moment, all that registered was defeat. He walked and walked until he could go no further.

And so, Ohacha Krimas, rejected prince of Gaag, sat on the end of a stony jetty and stared out across the bay and simply watched the world move. The waves rolled in like the ocean’s heartbeat, tossing themselves upon the rocky wall like steady breaths. Ships moved in every direction across the wide expanse of the bay. Ohacha could make out the tiny figures of far-off sailors as they hoisted, climbed, and rowed. Cormorants and other seabirds circled overhead, identifying many of the ships in the bay as fishing boats. They seemed to simply hover as they rode the sea breeze, diving head first in daring plunges. He sat and watched and wished for a simpler life. He wished to be one of those sailors, or fishers perhaps. He imagined living their lives. Working each day without fear. Earning a living and returning home at the end of a day to spend times with unbroken families. He longed for that figment. Another life, one without the pain and heartache. It took him along time to notice he wasn’t alone anymore. The sun was already setting. The last light of the day touching only the high-looming fortress on the rocky peninsula to the south.

“How long have you been there?” Ohacha asked, not turning around.

“How long have you been here?” Yuromi asked.

“I don’t know” he answered. “Not long enough.”

“Where is Cask?” she asked, concerned. He didn’t answer. “What about your Aginjigaade, the old fellow, what was his name?”

“Gaba’ké” Ohacha answered.

“Yes. Where is Gaba’ké?”

“How should I know?”

“What are you doing out here?!”

“Looking at the sea”

“Why?” Yuromi asked, not understanding.

“Why not?” Ohacha answered, but it didn’t feel like enough. “Because I wanted to” he added. “Its pretty.” The sun was setting between the headland cliffs and the islands that sheltered the city.

“I recognise that look” Yuromi said, stepping forward and taking a seat beside him. She removed her helmet and set it down next to her. The two of them sat only a few paces apart but he didn’t even glance at her as she sat beside him. Following his gaze, she too stared out across the bay. “You’re feeling hopeless. Beaten. Overwhelmed.”

“And how would you know how I feel?” Ohacha asked calmly

Yuromi turned to look at him. Ohacha felt her gaze on him and despite his best efforts not to, he turned to face her. “You had the same look the day I came to visit you at Yohati’s estate.” Whatever thought he had in that moment, he didn’t share them. Yuromi tried a different tactic, “I wasn’t born with this scar” she said. “I’ve had my own share of failures.”

“How did you get the scar?” Ohacha asked.

Yuromi sighed and looked back out over the sea, “I told you my father died…” Ohacha nodded. “When he died, I didn’t handle it well. I was miserable and turned to fighting against my sister, but mostly my mother. Then one day, we got into a heated argument and I left in a huff. I was hurting and angry, and in turn I wanted to hurt somebody else. I was mad and picked a fight. I lost that fight.”

“Who did you fight?” Ohacha asked.

“I have no idea,” she answered, “and ultimately it doesn’t matter. It took a long time to recover some sense of my self. My worth. My purpose.”

“And?” he asked, “What turned it around for you?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Ohacha repeated.

“Yeah, nothing specific happened that turned me around. It was a personal choice” Yuromi said. “I decided I didn’t want to be miserable about it. I was the one making myself unhappy. That’s not to say I don’t regret it. I mean, I almost lost my eye. I broke two fingers and cracked a rib. It took almost a year for the cut across my face to heal right. It was stupid, kind of like abandoning your bodyguards to sit and watch the sea when there are people out there who want you dead.”

“I’ve decided that I no longer care” Ohacha responded. He tossed a pebble into the ocean. “I’m tried of living a sad sheltered life, so afraid of the world as to barely exist within it. Not once in my life have I ever walked a street alone. Never have I strayed more than two hundred paces from those closest to me. Never have I had the time to just be by myself. Some things ought to be worth the risk.”

Yuromi tilted her head slightly, considering his words. “I can understand that feeling,” she said quietly. “The desire to take back control, to experience the world around you. But it’s not freedom you’re finding here. It’s an illusion. Putting yourself in danger, simply because you can, isn’t wise.”

Ohacha frowned, “Maybe,” he admitted, “but sitting here, staring out at the water, still might be the best choice I’ve ever made for myself. I’m tired of being led around, protected, controlled. All my life, other people have had opinions as to what I should do, who I should be. But what if I don’t want any of it?”

“You think I don’t know what that’s like?” Yuromi reasoned. “I’ve lived my whole life under the shadow of expectations. My father was a hero, a general. My sister is the perfect officer. My mother is one of the eight Patzau who governs all of Caso. We inherit more than looks from our parents. We inherit their responsibilities and expectations – their hopes and dreams.”

Ohacha exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “And what if I don’t want to be king? What if I don’t want to go to war over a kingdom I barely remember. What if I just want to disappear, to live quietly, away from all of this chaos?”

“You can” Yuromi suggested. “Your uncle is dead. Its sad, but it also means that you’re the only one left in control. And I can see in their eyes that if you led them down that path, they would follow and respect your choice. That swordsman and that Aginjigaade, you have their loyalty. They speak highly of you.” Yuromi answered, her eyes softening. “You can do whatever you feel is right, but running away doesn’t make your problems disappear.”

“Retreating now of all times feels akin to accepting defeat. Failing here would be a dishonour to my uncle’s memory. To his dream of returning home.” Ohacha said. “We have lost so much in coming here to Caso. Leaving now would mean the sacrifices made amounted to nothing. We came here to fund our future, whatever that may look like. Instead, my families fortune sits out there in the hands of thieves and murderers.”

Yuromi’s eyes snapped open. The coins, Captain Burm’s elite squad recovered the stolen coins. Spirits, its so obvious “Ohacha,” she said enthusiastically, “you should go see my mother tomorrow. I… I… never mind” she said, reconsidering. I probably shouldn’t mention the corruption in our guild. Not to an outsider. It wouldn’t reflect well. “Just, go see Patzau Ashill tomorrow. If you can’t find her, ask for Elvi Batari. They’ll be up in the fortress.”

“Why?” he asked, confused.

“Just… trust me” she said. “It’ll be worth the trip.”

For some reason. He did, and so he would. The last sliver of sunlight vanished and the cool deep blue of night began its earnest creep across the wide sky in pursuit. They had been sitting in shadow for a long time now, but still, without the sun the air felt cooler, heavier. As the night settled in, they sat together in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, the weight of their worlds pressing down on them.

“Thank you for releasing Rolena” Ohacha said, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “She’s a bit rattled, but I think she’ll be okay. She shared a lot of horrible stories about what was happening in her prison.”

Yuromi leaned back. “I’ve heard rumours myself” she admitted. “I reckon that means they’re true” she sighed. “They’re not telling anyone and trying to keep it quiet. It wont work. The word will spread. ‘Anger is the path to madness, and madness the path to self-destruction’” she quoted.

“Who said that?” Ohacha asked.

“My father” Yuromi said. Ohacha gave her a look. “The irony isn’t lost on me” she added, “what with this.” She gestured to her scar.

“Bartiin of Gaag” Ohacha said, changing topics, “the man who has been hunting me and my family for years. The one who was attacked by the Lord Kulimas. Rolena told me that he was arrested but escaped. His men were in the prison, but they testified that somebody freed him.”

“Escaped?” Yuromi asked, surprised. “I didn’t hear anything about him escaping.”

“Your mother herself came asking about him, apparently” Ohacha added. “She’s now hunting him.”

“The man who has been hunting you for years is loose in this city, and you still chose to come alone to sit on the pier? You’re a damned fool.”

Ohacha laughed. It was a broken laugh. One filled with pain and a bitter humour but there was something disarming in his demeanor, “Now he knows what it feels like to be me” Ohacha mocked. “I’ve feared that man for years and now our roles are swapped. I walk the streets, alone and free, and he now runs for his life. It feels… cathartic.”

Yuromi found herself unwittingly agreeing. She stretched her arms and stood. “You should go home, Ohacha. Your people will be worried about you.”

“Actually,” Ohacha said, looking up at her, “Patzau Yohati has made it clear we are no longer welcome in his home. He gave us a week, out of the generosity of his heart, to relocate ourselves elsewhere. Would you be able to recommend a place for us to go? I’d like to avoid travellers’ inns in preference of a place larger and something more… private. We would need space for four.” Four, he thought. So few of us left. And only a dozen loyal sailors still aboard the Sweet Wind. And only two-hundred men still waiting for them in Juking. He thought back to a time where, even after his father’s counter invasion, there had been thousands of loyalists left. With Aramuk dead, he wasn’t so sure the few who remained would even stay. Better to slip back into Gaag and restart their lives over under the Careyago.

“He’s kicking you out?” Yuromi asked, “so soon after your uncle was killed? That seems so unlike him.”

“He’s a viper” Ohacha warned, “believe me. He makes himself out to be a kind old man; a leader with decades of wisdom. But he’s cruel and calculating. The moment my uncle died; whatever business deal they had struck between them was dead with him. He made it quite clear that we’re no longer worth his time or attention.”

“Aren’t you being a bit unfair?” Yuromi asked, “He’s dealing with surges in violence and political unrest within the city. These are trying times to be a leader.”

“I just saw him, Yuormi. I walked in on him with Janos and some burly soldier and they seemed elated. Right up until I walked in. He doesn’t fear this conflict. He’s urging for it, made stronger by it.”

“That can’t be true” she argued.

“We are outsiders here in Caso, and so people who talk with us are unafraid of sharing their real opinions” Ohacha stated. “Those in low places in the guilds, they had their own opinions regarding Yohati’s true nature and we ignored them. But now that I’ve seen it, I’m ashamed to admit that they were right. It is my opinion that you Casoyans put blind faith in your leaders.”

“That’s easier to do when we, the people, have selected those who lead us” Yuromi countered. “There are no kings in Caso.”

“There are eight kings in Caso,” Ohacha countered, “and each one lives in their own palace of wealth and luxury, Yohati most of all. To him, everyone is a tool to be used. A means to an end. A road to power. And those who stand in the way of his ambitions are a nuisance. To him, all those people outside his walls are insects that he’ll crush if it means progress for his ambitions. All he’s ever needed was an excuse to drive them out and now he’s got one.”

“I think you’ve gone cynical” Yuromi frowned. “You’ve been burned one too many times and refuse to see the good people are trying to do. Unlike you, I’ve been out there beyond the walls. I’ve seen the corruption and violence first hand. Exploitation. Bribery. Theft. Territorial gang rivalries. Innocent people are the ones caught in the middle and it’s gone on far too long. I think he wants to make a difference. To improve lives.”

“Both what you say and what I have said can be true at the same time” Ohacha countered.

That gave her pause. “Perhaps” she said slowly, “but I choose to believe that its all for the greater good.”

Ohacha smiled a sad smile and looked back down at the water. “My uncle used to say, ‘everyone makes the best decisions based on the information they have.’ But what is sometimes forgotten, is that people can be greedy and selfish. Motivation matters. Intentions matter. I’ve learned that the hard way.”

It wasn’t a counter to her argument. Simply an observation. One made from experience. “Returning to your original question, I’ll ask around” Yuromi said. “There’s bound to be a suitable place for you to stay. Remember what I said earlier, go and find my mother or her Aginjigaade, Elvi Batari.”

“I will” he said. “Good night, Sergeant Ashill. Thank you for the conversation.”

“Be safe, Ohacha Krimas.”