Zihark did not like Sienne.
The streets were crowded, almost cloying with the various scents of the marketplace weaving in and out of the patrons and the chaos that seemed natural to the city. The scents were strong, too strong with the same demanding edge of attention the shopkeepers haggled with. It was beautiful in some ways with the garish colors complimenting each other strangely, but shallow.
Yes, shallow was the right word for here. For all of its grandeur, he felt far more at home in the desolate peaks of Daein. There was a savage -brutal- strength and solidity in the winters of his homeland, but that was simply the truth. No getting around the truth with the winters coming - here, he felt inundated in layers of half-truths and outright lies. Sometimes they were mildly amusing, with the store owners clearly pulling the wool over newcomers with outrageous prices, but other times...
...other times, the lies cut just as deeply as any sword.
He saw what Begnion tried to hide, and yes, most other beorc countries as well. This largest country in prosperity was also known infamously for the widespread laguz slavery - something he condoned and loathed.
Can't they see? Some laguz walk about briefly, but always under hood and cloak, and most of them with scars of chains. Don't they realize that there are always ugly truths under those Senators charming smiles?
Or perhaps they didn't care. He didn't know what was worse - them not caring, or Daein with its atrocious hatred. At least they weren't hypocrites; claiming that they respected the laguz just as well as anyone while owning slaves in the back shed in brutal conditions.
He knew. And that was why he still preferred the cold clarity of Daein to the illusions that were in abundance here.
