ARIS
"I am here to free Skali from the shackles of secrecy!" I shouted, my cloak rustling around my ankles as I stepped forward on the wooden box that served as my platform. "I am here to usher in a new era!"
The crowd around me, numbering at least a hundred people, shouted their agreement. "An era of truth!" I yelled. "An era of equality!" Every word whipped the crowd into a frenzy, their chanting voices all merging together into a single cry for change. "An era...of light!"
The customary ending to all my speeches summoned a final cheer from the ocean of people around me. It was also at this point that Dagson's guards entered the scene. I caught sight of them out of the corner of my eye, my gloved fist still raised victoriously in the air. "Catch her!" I heard one of them scream. It was a voice I knew well.
One hundred heads all turned in unison towards the figure of Gaerhialm Hamingsson, captain of the Skalin guard and my sworn enemy. He strode into the courtyard I had been speaking in, shoving listeners out of the way to reach me. His fellow enforcers were already attempting to arrest as many people as they could, for Dagson had announced that condoning the actions of the criminal Obsidia was against the law, and even being present in my vicinity without attempting to apprehend me was considered a crime.
I leapt down from the stack of wooden crates I had been perched on, my boots barely having touched the ground before I was running, my cloak flapping behind me like a trail of smoke. The common folk threw themselves into the way of Hamingsson, determined to slow his progress, but for me they scrambled to clear a path. I put their help to good use, cutting easily through the courtyard and turning down an alleyway the guards had not yet blocked off.
"After her!" Hamingsson screamed at the nearest soldier before one middle-aged farmer leapt onto his back. He was pulled down into the crowd, where a mob of Skalins tackled him as well, but I knew better than to underestimate my opponent. It would not take long for Hamingsson to escape the crowd, but by then I intended to be long gone.
The shouting of the crowd was replaced by heavy footsteps as I raced through the alleys of Skali, Dagson's guards in hot pursuit. Judging by the thunderous noise they generated, I estimated there was at least a dozen tailing me. One was uncomfortably close. I would have to remedy that.
I turned another corner, finding the alley perfect for my needs. A woman was just laying out her dress on a low-hanging clothing line, but upon seeing a stampede of guards charging down the street, she hurried back inside. Without missing a beat, I reached for the line, the closest guard passing under me as I used my momentum to swing up and through the air. My knuckles tightening on the line, I swung up and around to give the passing guard a kick to the head. I landed on top of him as he fell to the ground, delivering another blow to his skull. Confident that he was unconscious, I continued running.
I risked a quick glance behind me. To my delight, there were only ten men chasing me, less than my original guess. I was close to my desired destination, but three more guards were beginning to draw nearer as well. I noticed I was growing slower, unable to keep up my breakneck pace. Stopping to take out any more guards would take too much time. I would have to rely on luck to outrun them.
As it turned out, luck was on my side but, more importantly, so was old lady Asvor.
I passed Glaston Lane, which marked the final stretch. However, the distance between myself and the fastest of the guards was dwindling. Just as he made a swipe for my cloak, Asvor stuck her head out the window.
As I had gained more support, becoming known less as a vigilante and more as a hero among the townsmen of Skali, the people had begun to show their favor of me in very prominent ways. Now was an example of such instances. The old woman leaned out of her narrow window, holding a bucket of water in her bony hands. Just as the guards passed under her, she dumped its contents onto their heads.
It turned out that the water was boiling hot and the several men that had been hit stopped to claw at their burning faces in agony. This caused a backup, preventing the rest of the group from pursuing me as the guards toppled on top of each other, trying to get through. "Thank you!" I shouted up at the elderly woman, who was beaming at her handiwork. As I rounded the final corner, I yanked off my black cloak and dove into the throng of people I had known would be there. It was Sunday, the busiest day at the Skalin marketplace, and I had purposely placed the location of my speech near it for this exact reason. As I slipped into the crowd I quickly stuffed the cloak into my satchel. Over the years that I had been active, I had ensured that no guard had ever seen the face of Obsidia, so now I was lost to them in the crowd.
Judging by the rageful shouting that came from the direction of the alley I had just left, they knew it too.
I made sure to slow to a leisurely walking pace. Running would only make me stand out, and at this point putting distance between the guards and I was simply a precaution. They would never be able to find me in such a large group of people, even if they did know what I looked like.
As I strolled through the street, the scent of meat caught my attention. Mouth watering, I closed in on a stall selling pieces of roasted Strotmite skewered on a stick and purchased one. I felt I deserved it after such a daring escape, although I admitted to myself that it had been a close call and I would need to be more cautious in the future.
I moved to the side of the street to enjoy my reward without the threat of being bowled over by a wagon or horse. I surveyed the crowd, picking out the smattering of guards dressed in distinctive Skalin yellow, frantically asking people if they had seen a figure in a black cloak run by. To my satisfaction, all the answers they received appeared to be negative. I tore a piece of Strotmite off the stick with my teeth, enjoying the entertainment the discouraged guards provided.
"Aris! Hey, Aris!" I heard someone shout. I turned in the direction of the noise, trying to determine who was calling me. Iri emerged out of the crowd, his thin legs stumbling over the uneven cobblestones. He hurried over to me, green eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Aris, did you hear?" he asked breathlessly. It was clear he had run all the way here, a surprising feat for my younger brother. Iri was small, both in height and in body type. He was already 1,019 and he had yet to develop even the slightest definition of muscle, which was to the severe disappointment of our father.
"Hear what?" I responded, although I knew exactly as to what he was referring to.
"Obsidia is here!" he exclaimed, looking around after he said the words as if she might appear at any second. Upon observing my lack of enthusiasm, he repeated the news with more emphasis. "Did you hear me, Aris? Obsidia is here. In the marketplace!"
I shrugged. "So?"
"So?" he repeated, amazed at my lack of emotion. "So, how are you so calm? She could be standing right next to us. The Obsidia could be standing right next to us!"
"I know, I heard you the first time," I sighed, swallowing another chunk of meat. Unfortunately for me, Iri had taken great interest in my vigilante counterpart as soon as I had started my thefts. Now, he looked up to Obsidia as his role model and wanted desperately to discover her identity. Iri was the only one I felt I could trust with my secret, but I knew he would tell Mother, who would never allow me to continue if she knew about the dangerous activities I partook in during the nighttime hours. So, my secret identity remained just that-a secret.
"I don't understand how you could not care about Obsidia," he continued, refusing to accept my indifference. "You, of all people! Obsidia stands for everything you believe in. She ruins the reputations of the upperclassmen. You know, the lords and ladies you always say have too much power?"
It physically pained me to say it, but I ground out, "Obsidia is a criminal. No one should be allowed to disregard the law of Asgard."
Iri gaped at me, clearly wondering if I was really his sister or someone else entirely. There was not much we agreed on, as we had very divergent personalities, possibly due to the fact that we weren't truly related. The Kadalssons had adopted me into their home soon after finding me abandoned on the streets of Skali. Still, despite our differences, he had always assumed this would be one point we'd both agree on. I had avoided talking to Iri about Obsidia, mostly because I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't want to encourage his interest for the fear that he might discover my secret, but I also didn't want to arouse his suspicion by not being interested myself. After all, what he said was true: Obsidia did stand for everything I believed in.
"We should go...pick up some things for Mom," I decided, trying to direct the conversation away from our current topic. Thankfully, Iri was easily distracted.
"Oh, that's why I'm here," he told me, reentering the crowd. We shuffled along with the lines of other Skalins. "Mom sent me to pick up some fabrics for her. She also wanted to know where you were."
"I was...meeting up with friends," I said quickly, keeping my excuse as vague as possible. Luck was once again on my side, as Iri didn't seem to require more of an answer.
"Here, Mom gave me this list," he said, producing a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. I noticed how dusty his loose, white shirt and pants were.
"Are those the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?" I demanded.
Iri looked down at his attire. "Oh yeah, I guess so." I sighed. Appearances were not something my brother cared to waste his time on-this much was evident by his uneven haircut and the smear of grease on his face. I, on the other hand, had to carefully pick out my clothes. They were always a dark color to blend in with my cloak, and they had to fit perfectly. If my pants were too long, I risked tripping, but if anything was too tight, I could be hindered while fighting. Today, knowing I might have run into trouble at my speech, I had chosen loose black pants and a brown shirt. My feet and hands were protected by heavy work boots and gloves.
"What's first on the list?" I asked, peering over Iri's shoulder to read it. "We should split up so we can finish quickly."
"Uh...three bolts of silk," he replied. "Have you got money?" I nodded, patting the satchel I always wore at my side. "Good. I'll go get the wool. And hey, who knows? Maybe I'll meet Obsidia on the way!" he chuckled.
I smiled along with him, hoping he couldn't detect the underlying tone of concern in my laugh.
