She sat high above the city, ever watchful over the city of gold far below. She was cobbled together over a long period of time and it was a testament to her fortitude that she was even keeping upright. The long years had eroded at her foundations and a maze of dark warrens and unexpected turns obfuscated the way. To advance was to step into darkness, and trust the choice made. Few knew her insides well enough to navigate the dead-ends and pitfalls. She was a labyrinth, cold and tough.

Patzau Ashill sat at her desk inside the Casoyan Fortress. The wind howled fiercely and the windows whistled with the wind’s eagerness to explore the high tower. The even glow of an illum stone lamp illuminated the desk. Notes, contracts, and ledgers lay arranged before her, a display of how costly this prolonged campaign against Mudtown was becoming. The glow produced long shadows on the far wall and reflected off the chamber’s well polished stone floor.

It had been weeks since the attempt on Patzau Yohati’s life and the Patzau’s original campaign against the thieves and murderers responsible. The resulting chaos had spiraled into the greatest challenge of Yanata Ashill’s long career. The problem was one of delicacy. Policing the city or marching against an enemy were trivial tasks for a woman of her rank and expertise, but unravelling a rebellion where the guilty and the innocent were knotted together was another matter entirely. In a city strangled by unrest by fires, floods, political instability, and famine, there were no clear lines to hold. This was the truest test of command, and Ashill felt she was failing it.

Quelling revolt was a difficult task in its own right. Now it felt as if the city itself was coming apart at the seams. Since Yohati’s failed assassination, political violence was on the upswing culminating in the murder of Careyago Ambassador Durali and her partner. So it was with no surprise that the sudden and suspicious death of Minoc’s replacement, Patzau Hairo Bradel, Yanata found herself stretched too thin.

Worse, she was distracted. Minoc languished in the depths of this very fortress, her fortress, and his sham of a trial gnawed at her thoughts. It kept her up at night. At least, those nights she chose sleep. He was innocent. It hadn’t even taken much of an effort to prove it. That was the worst part. She had tasked Elvi with looking into the council’s claims and the woman hadn’t even needed a full day.

She wasn’t so foolish as to think him incapable. Her time as prison warden had taught her the hard lesson that fine-seeming folks were capable of terrible things. Character alone tracks poorly with innocence. And now Yanata knew how that felt. She too was no longer innocent. She had sat there, listening to all the bullshit and yet she had remained silent. Only Ada had stood up for Mellen. She told herself that it had been exhaustion that had silenced her. That a lack of information had kept her from speaking up. But lies only work when you believe them and the stain on her heart was painted in regret.

A sharp rap on the door broke her from her reverie. Surprised by the late hour, Yanata stood and crossed to the door. When she opened it, Patzau Yohati stood in the hallway, his face set in its usual inscrutable expression. “It’s late, Yohati” Yanata replied, not bothering to hide her surprise. “What brings you here?”

“Patzau Ashill,” Yohati said, his voice low but firm. “I’ve come to speak with you about our ongoing predicament. May I come in?”

“Please” Yanata said, opening the door wider in invitation.

Yohati stepped inside, his fine boots echoing on the polished floor. He tracked mud in, and Yanata held her tongue. “I have a matter of great importance to discuss” he began. He did not wait for her to sit before speaking, “The campaign in Mudtown. It has become too high a burden for us to continue to bear as we have been. The criminals in the slums are growing bolder. Innocent people are being hurt by our unwillingness to commit. If we don’t act decisively, this cost in lives will only escalate.”

“It is difficult, Yohati, when our enemies shroud themselves amongst true Casoyans” Yanata said carefully.

“I agree. Which is why we must raze Mudtown.”

Yanata drew in a gasped breath. Here it comes. She had expected something, but this wasn’t it.

“We must destroy Mudtown entirely. It is a problem we can no longer ignore. You’ve heard the stories. People are getting sick inside the city from the filth of the place. Children are being coerced into petty crime for gang lords and business are being extorted by bandits. This was before all of the chaos of the last few weeks. Now conditions are a thousand times worse.”

Yanata grunted. The thought of annihilating the slum entirely wasn’t what she had expected from Yohati’s proposal. He had always been the most wise and impartial of the council. Although it wasn’t spoken, she understood the true cost of his suggestion and it was difficult to stomach.

“We will give warning of course,” Yohati continued, “and encourage innocents to take shelter elsewhere. But in the end, we must dismantle the bastion of crime and oppression. They have made a fortress out of the bodies of innocents. We must force them out of their dens. Only then can we strike without fear of hostages. Only then will we have the opportunity to rebuild, properly, with the city’s infrastructure rather than the shanties these people call homes.”

“What you suggest is respectable in theory, but many won’t leave. They will turn against us over of this decision. We will be destroying homes and families. And where will they go during the campaign?”

Yohati sighed. “We can work out those details, but either way we have no better choice, Yanata” He spoke so plainly. And with the calm demeanor of righteousness, it maddened her. “I hate to admit it,” he continued, “but we are at a stalemate. I would not suggest this course if I thought there was a better way forward.”

“I will issue the order,” Yanata said, her voice flat as she reached for a wax tablet. On second thought, she stood and collected a piece of parchment from a cabinet in the corner and an ink well.

“Good idea” Yohati said calmly, “More official. Can’t be easily erased or altered like wax.”

As she wrote, Yanata’s hand felt heavy. The words on the page felt more like a sentence than a decree. Her thoughts drifted for a brief moment. Then the memory of her daughter, Yuromi, bloodied after leaving Mudtown popped into her mind and she signed the decree with fervor. Yohati poured the hot wax for her and Yanata stamped the orange liquid with her guild’s signet, her fist clenched. She held the military decree in her hand and stared at it in wonder. What will become of all those people? She wondered. Will all this truly bring about a greater good? She didn’t know, and so she hoped instead.

She handed the order to Yohati, who took it without a word of thanks. “Do you have someone in mind to lead the assault?” Yohati asked. Yanata thought for a fraction of a second that she saw his eyes a gleam of satisfaction as he reviewed the parchment.

“No” She answered. The fervor with which she had written the order had disappeared and exhaustion took its place. She felt drained and stifled a yawn.

“Might I suggest, Captain Gal Burm for the task” Yohati said.

“Sure” Yanata said, no longer interested. “Burm’s got a tactical mind for it. He can handle it.”

“Good night, Ashill” Yohati said. Yohati slipped from the room like a shadow. After he left, Yanata remained, staring down at the empty chair across from her desk. She could hear her own breath, slow and measured, as if the very air had thickened with her regret.

What have I become?

After an indeterminate amount of time, Yanata stood and walked out of her office. She needed air to clear her mind. Her office felt suffocating. The fortress felt suffocating. She ascended the stairwell that led to the roof of the officer’s tower and approached the hatch. It too whistled loudly with the wind. Yanata opened the hatch and a gust kicked the wooden trapdoor open with a loud bang. The roof was vacant and the night air was cool. It rushed by in great gusts that rustled the small trees that clung to the high cliff rocks. The sky was dark and only a sliver of distant daylight clung to the western horizon.

Yanata walked to the edge and looked down over the bay and back towards the city. The twin domes of the Auction House and the Palace glowed a soft blue by the illum stones built into their façades. The rest of the city looked dark by comparison. City streets like cracks upon the dark landscape. Lanterns glowed in distant windows and down streets and alleyways. The walls of the city hugged the cracked city landscape like a dark ring and beyond the walls, Mudtown sat in the low-lands due east. From her high vantage over the city, it looked peaceful and quiet. Yanata tried to imaging what it might one day look like if they succeeded. An expansion of the city like never before seen. Real homes. Safe streets. Clean water. It seemed right. But it felt so wrong.

So, she tried not to think about it. Her mind instead wandered to her other regrets: Not asking more questions in Patzau Minoc’s trial. Not being as stalwart as Ada. Not being a better leader for her guildsmen. Not being a better mother to her girls. Her thoughts drifted back to the conversation she had had in this very tower with Patzau Minoc a month prior. He had warned her that Powanati and Hadashenta were consolidating power and wealth. He had told her that he planned on making a stand against it. And now, after a mockery of justice he withered away in her prison, condemned to die.

This is all madness. It can only be madness, Yanata thought. We have been consumed by it. Madness and greed… just as Minoc had warned me.

The wind stopped unexpectedly and the silence that replaced the howling was deafening. It left her unprotected from her thoughts. Vulnerable to her doubts. Yanata turned and Elvi stood beside her. She wasn’t sure if Elvi had approached silently or if she had simply remained distracted. It unnerved her.

“I hope you don’t mind” Elvi said quietly.

The pungent smell of Elvi’s sorcery lingered without the wind to carry it away. It smelled like a clear sky on a cold day up in the mountains. Or perhaps it was a bit medicinal, like soothing herbs. Yanata couldn’t place it, but it was familiar and calming. “No, I appreciate the sentiment” she replied.

“Wouldn’t want you to blow off the roof” Elvi jested.

“It’d take more than a big gust to kill me, El” Yanata replied flatly.

“Well, out with it” Elvi said.

“Out with what?”

“Whatever it is that’s got you troubled”

Yanata scowled. Elvi had always been good at being attuned to her emotions, sensing even the subtlest change in her mood. “It seems I’m wearing my inner conflict across my face” Yanata said after a moment. “Spirits, where do I even start?”

“Is it Mudtown or Minoc?” Elvi asked.

“How is it you’re husbandless?” Yanata razzed, “If you can handle me, you could handle any man.”

“Just haven’t found the right one, I guess” Elvi said. “So, its Minoc that’s got you up here, hm?”

“You should have been a fortune teller instead of a soldier” Yanata quipped. “You’d have made a lot more money. Used your Aginjigaade skills to add to the showmanship of it all.”

“You’re stalling”

“Oh, for damned sake.” Yanata growled and then met Elvi’s smile with one of her own. “I don’t think he did it” she said after a quiet moment. “We did all that work investigating and not once did Minoc come up as a suspect. No connections. No trail. No associations. If it were Powanati, I’d have less difficulty believing it, I’ve heard those two yell at one another…”

“We’ve all heard those two yell at each other” Elvi admitted.

“Damn it” Yanata repeated, “I’m just so tired. And that shouldn’t be an excuse, that’s my problem. I shouldn’t have let that circus of a trial continue. It was bullshit, Elvi. The whole thing felt like a song and dance and I sat there and played my fucking tambourine. I mean they gagged the fucking man at his own trial for spirits sake. I feel dirty for having been a part of it.”

Elvi remained quiet, giving her friend the space to think. Yanata took a deep breath and let out a hard sigh. “Yohati came to see me tonight” she said.

“Yohati came all the way here again?” Elvi asked, feigning surprise.

“He wanted me to order an escalation to the campaign. He wanted me to give the order to raze Mudtown” Yanata admitted.

“And you said no?” Elvi asked.

“No, I fucking signed it” Yanata whispered, as if confessing to a crime.

“You signed it?” Elvi asked again, astonished. “I don’t understand.”

“I realized that, if I refused, the council will vote to remove me” Yanata said. “I’m not entrenched like Minoc and the other Patzau. It’s so easy to get me out of their way. I realized that, if I didn’t do it, they’ll just replace me with somebody else who would make things a hundred times worse for those people. It was a moment of weakness; of desperation. I thought I was smart. That I can do things, little acts of recourse, to try and make things better. But now… I’ve come to realize just how foolish it was.”

A silence stretched between them. Elvi seemed ready to argue, but no words came.

“I should have resigned” Yanata continued. “I’ve compromised my ideals to cling on to what little power I have left.”

“Its not the same–” Elvi argued, but Yanata cut her off.

“It is the same” she said. “Sure, it’s the power to try and do what I think is right, but it is still a compromise to maintain power; to have control. I tell myself that I’ll be better than whoever they replace me with but do the things I abhor anyway to maintain control. I don’t think I’m fit to lead this guild any longer.”

“That’s nonsense, Yanata” Elvi said eagerly. “Do you truly think whoever they replace you with will do a fraction of good when compared to you? You can’t give up now. This city would crumble without you.”

“I’m not so sure that’s true” Yanata admitted, “but it’s nice to hear that you think so.”

“Just give it more time” Elvi urged. “I’ll work on the smaller unimportant issues. The Gaagians. The Ambassador. The mystery of Hairo’s death. I’ll get somebody else to handle Minoc’s execution. You just focus on Mudtown and ensuring it doesn’t all go to shit.”

After a long pause, Patzau Ashill finally answered her with, “Okay.” Relief flooded Elvi’s face. “Go home, Elvi. You need your sleep as much as I do. We can talk more tomorrow. It’ll be a new day.”

It was clear that Elvi wanted to protest, but didn’t. She left and Yanata stood alone with the wind and a new mission. Elvi didn’t know it, she couldn’t know it, but their conversation had helped Yanata in more ways than one.

Descending from the roof, Yanata entered one of her senior officer’s offices and nicked a bottle of plum wine she knew he had stashed in his desk.  She took one of his candles too. Crossing the bridge, she wound her way through the fortresses’ maze of corridors and stairs. Her footsteps echoed in the quiet of the empty halls and as she descended, the air grew colder and the stone walls grew older and darker. She enterer the jailer’s office and surprised the older man who sat lounging in the cramped room with only a book and a candle light. He jolted upright in surprise as the door opened and then again to attention as he realized who is unexpected visitor was.

“Patzau Ashill” he stammered. “W– What?”

“Take the next few days off, Trundle” Yanata said casually. “Full pay. I’ll handle guard duty tonight and find you a replacement for tomorrow and the day after.”

“I don’t understand” Trundle said, almost more surprised she knew his name than the strange words that came from her mouth.

“I can’t sleep” she lied. She tossed him a small pouch and then said, “Go home. Forget you saw me here tonight and you can keep that.” Trundle opened the pouch, closed his mouth, saluted, and left with a giddiness Yanata envied. It can be so easy to change a person’s life, she realized. Maybe I’m as bad as they are. She tried not to dwell down that path. Regrets were not among the things she lacked.

It was easy finding Patzau Minoc’s cell. He was one of only two prisoners in the deepest bowels of the fortress’ prison. He stirred as the cell door clicked open and she pulled up a chair. “I know you’re awake, Mellen” Yanata said calmly. He turned, surprised to hear from her. He seemed just as shocked to see her.  

“Now this is a surprise” Mellen said, “I thought you were the jailer, doing his rounds.”

“I am your jailer” Yanata said coldly.

“I suppose that’s true” Mellen admitted. He sat up and somehow looked even thinner than he did the day prior. “You brought me a going-to-die present?” He asked, looking at the bottle.

“Something like that” Yanata said. She uncorked the bottle of wine and poured two glasses. “Don’t break that” she warned as placed one in front of him, her eyes meeting his.

“Poisoned I’d expect?” He asked with a mirth that seemed out of place. He gulped the wine down eagerly and then smiled up at her. Yanata couldn’t help but smile back. “So, what brings you down here to a sorry place like this?” he asked as she refilled his glass. “You doing rounds for all the prisoners now? Because the young man a few cells over is a lovely conversationalist.”

“I came to do what you asked” Yanata answered. “I’ve come to listen to what you’ve been trying to tell me for the past month. But no flowery bullshit this time. Give me the hard truths.”

And he did.