Can you remember
Who you were
Before the world
Told you who you should be?
-k.w.
Eyes were fixed in that dead tree in the middle of the plaza. Smoke came from the ground, and every place where soldiers found it appropriate to burn so the rats would come out and be purged.
The empire needs to be cleansed from non-believers. Dead bodies, devoid of any armor or weapons littered the ground. They were deemed as collateral damage by the black nobility for supporting those who opposed the highest order of the land.
It was too late when the knights arrived, hoping to salvage at least the children. But they, too, were not spared.
Soot smudged the cheek of the onlooker. The continuous cawing of the crows around gave life to the carnage, accentuated by the bloody rays flooding the ground.
And just when they thought that the carnage was the aftermath, a huge ball of fire with an unusual color- a darker hue of the blood that painted the ground- erupted from nowhere and a loud bang-
-a loud bang from the gong displayed at the center of the market resonated the plaza just beside the flourishing olive tree the people took good care. Confettis were thrown, and the band made a lively symphony to celebrate the victory of the county from the dreadful history they would rather bury in the darkest corner of their minds.
Lucca loosened the tie on her neck as he stepped away from the crowd and retreated to the corners to get fresh air. She could feel her escorts follow her discreetly. She leaned against the wall, wiping the cold sweat from her forehead and took in a huge amount of air.
"My lord, I have some cold fruit wine for you." A taller man in his mid-twenties shadowed Lucca, eyes scanning the crowd, ready to silence any one who could have witnessed such vulnerability.
Lucca gulped down the wine like a man left in the desert. Her earthy clothes would not show any stains from the liquid that trickled down the side of her mouth when she drank the beverage. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt, earning a frown from her companion. She raised a brow and shrugged. "Loosen up, Enzo. We are blending in the people, and your wary stares and protectiveness will only blow our cover." She handed him back the tumbler. "Do not make me regret tagging you along."
"I would have still followed you, even if you tried to escape my sights." Enzo placed the tumbler in his pocket and followed his liege in the market.
"Yes, yes, humor me once in a while, will you?" Lucca touched the fabric nearest her, and gave a smile to the vendor who immediately presented those that someone like her could afford. Clothes show the status of a person, and she was successful in portraying herself as man (on a daily basis), and a person way below her rank in society.
Enzo sighed when Lucca blatantly tried to keep him off her back by blending in with the crowd.
She was never successful in her attempts. He was trained to always keep an eye on her, even when she thought that she finally got away.
Lucca took an apple from the crate and went to the next store. She glanced when she heard no angry shouts from the old man who saw her took his goods without payment.
"Please refrain from stealing their goods, my lord." Enzo pocketed a bag full of coins.
Lucca rolled her eyes. "It is not stealing when you pay for them." He was getting better at tracking her down. Last time they went incognito, it took half an hour for him to search for her in the midst of the crowd.
She took a bite of her apple and shifted her weight on one foot. She made a mental note to add the weights on her feet when training to enhance her speed and stamina.
The shift in the kind of crowd made her want to turn to the other side, but she needed to check on every corner. On this particular part of the market, ready to wear clothes were being displayed in the glass casings of each dress shop, catering to women. Ladies of marriageable age flocked in their preferred stores, hoping to be the one to get that trending style and color.
Lucca found it harder to breath in that part of the town. She could not find fault in them, really. Having the right color to match her dress shirts also bothered him like how these ladies bothered to find the right accessory for the that laced glove. Clothes are some sort of weapon, and it played perfectly, they could win wars.
Just like how she could gather information from the common folk by dressing in those earth tones, and acting like a street urchin in this festival of sorts.
Or just like how she could easily order their cavalry when she wears the mantle embroidered with the seal of her family, and the suits tailored for the young lord of the county.
Lucca would have moved on to the next area had it not for a cry of distress from one of the madams, her folded umbrella pointed at a small figure heading towards her.
"Get that rat! He took my bracelet!" The older woman ordered sternly without moving an inch from her place.
Lucca was unfortunate to have met with the woman's gaze, and she felt compelled to actually comply with chasing after the impoverished child, probably an immigrant from the neighboring town.
"Please leave it to me, sir." Enzo impliedly asked her to stay in one place quietly.
Of course, Lucca decided to run after the little thief, instead. She could not rebel so openly and grandly, so moments like these are opportunities that should be grabbed without hesitation.
"Hey you over there, move!" Lucca pushed aside one lanky knight so as not to lose sight of the boy who seemed to be as slippery as an eel in the midst of the crowd of colorful skirts and screaming ladies.
"My lord!" Enzo expected he would be chasing Lucca rather than the boy, but it was still frustrating to say the least. Lucca was a demon to Enzo but an angel to Cianna who was only a year younger than Enzo. In times like this, Enzo could swear that Lucca is has the youngest mental capacity.
(But it makes him happy despite the frustration, because most of the time, she seemed to be the oldest when next to Cianna and Enzo).
Lucca captured the child, restraining his hands behind him to prevent escape. They only reached the end of the block for the chase, and the child has been expressing his thoughts on the adults. Had it not a high pitched voice, one could think that the one promising carnage on the adults who cost him his meal of the day would be a very, very angry adult.
"Oh my-" Enzo caught the shiny loop thrown to him. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes when Lucca waved him dismissively. He caught sight of the old lady who demanded that Lucca chase the child.
"Oh my, such kind young men." Her eyes sparkled as she hooked the bracelet securely on her wrist. "How would I ever-" She realized the familiar face and connected the dots before she could finish the sentence. "-Young lord!" She curtsied with grace, and paled at the thought of ordering one of higher status.
"My apologies for this incident, madam!" Lucca gave a sheepish smile.
The child grumpily resigned to his fate. He has seen lots of men and women despite his age, but looking at the young lord from the faint reflection of the dress shop, he knew that the young lord looked good with that teal dress displayed in the shop.
"Young lord, my ass! He could lure men with that face wearing that laced dress that lanky man is selling!" The child shouted.
The old lady started berating the child, and how refugees could only bring sickness and crime in their place.
Lucca realized what the child meant when she turned to the dress. It was mocking her, the glass giving her a faint reflection of what she could look like if she actually showed her true self.
The squirming of the child as he tried to argue with the old lady with equal flare brought her back to the situation at hand.
Lucca smacked the head of the child. "Show your elders some respect! They were the ones to built our world, and they are kind enough to pass this world to us youths."
The old lady frowned at the statement, probably because of being called an elder.
The child went silent. He cried, "It's the old one's who started those fires that's why I lost everything!"
Lucca looked away. She loosened her grip but not enough for him to escape. She smacked the child's head. "No shouting either! Elders tend to have a weak heart."
They say a woman's first blood
Doesn't come from between her legs
But from biting her tongue
-Meggie Royer
This story is crossposted in AO3 under the name CelestialDreamer16. I do not own the lines at the beginning and end of the chapters. I found them in Pinterest and/or in books I have read.