CHAPTER 1:

CORIANDER

Ourellea fled evermore down the coast of Coriander village. But seven years had passed since two kindred souls had parted ways, and the forest no longer kept its verdant luster. Instead, the jagged arms of stooping, deciduous trees stretched out, naked and bare to the chill winds that seized them. Brambles of mangled roots and dead moss hung against grey trunks and dusty roads. Those chalky paths echoed a trail once covered in carpets of green. Now they were as dry and barren as their gangly, stalking counterparts.

A mangled trail of lifeless turf led up the dusty mound and behind that barren hillside, decadent rooftops sprung, revealing the lone hamlet that rose like a lifeless corpse. A wide, unfinished outpost swelled at the center of this small village where huge globs of billowing black smoke rose to reach the heavens, expunging its pollutants to cover the grey skies.

Below that smog, men in armor marched up and down the road leading into the village. They were covered in thick sheets of crimson metal. Underneath their armor, latticed chain mail ran the length of their arms and sank down to their thighs. They wore pitch black sleeves and matching leggings that were baggy and sank into crimson greaves. And atop their heads, their helmets were curved and warped into villainous shapes with the insignia of Villnore emblazoned at the center. A giant wall rose around the village gates with several men patrolling its ramparts and a ballista at its center.

A chill wind blew beyond that gate, reaching through the streets of residential houses and rushing through the market of Coriander. Platina bristled as she walked and pulled her cloak tighter against her slight frame. It was too early for winter but already, tufts of air billowed in white puffs around her chapped lips. She clenched her shivering hands around a pale, wooden bucket full of water and looked around vigorously.

The market was busy. Throngs of villagers ambled all around her, struggling to get from one booth to the next. Voices rose while merchants haggled their prices. Neglected children wailed in the distance and dogs barked not so far away. The stench of rotting meat wavered in the air and Platina dipped her nose into the opening of her wool cloak.

Standing behind a booth of blood-stained oak wood, old man Tharlock shook his butcher knife and raised his scratchy voice over the tide. "Get your chickens here! Get your chickens! Fresh meat for a one time offer!"

With a wave of his arm, he sheared his knife down the belly of a skinned fowl. The incision was neat and all the innards soon bubbled to the surface, spilling over the flesh like a blooming orchard. Villagers promptly ambled closer to the scene. "Just three oth a bird! You can't beat this price!"

Pouches were raised and several villagers shouted their requests. But Platina covered her mouth, holding back her bile. Drawing her head low, she hastened through the conflagration of booths and people. The dead, dry earth kicked up a plume of dust while she passed a variety of showcased items, from feather-downed tunics, scarves and hats to poorly crafted silverware, buckles and door handles. But none of these appealed to her. Instead she kept walking.

The streets were a mottled dirt road, running flat and jagged between the lined booths. The few sparse patches of grass she did see were long dried, brown and dead. Towering over the market, large, gangly and deciduous trees lurked and bent like leaning vultures ready to fall upon their unsuspecting prey.

The booths themselves were no better. Each shop was coated in its own unique color at the vendor's discretion. Thus, through heated competition, the market was a straight road of blues, purples, reds, oranges and yellows. In some cases, the more daring merchants would mix several colors together to draw more attention. Many villagers took pride in this war of attraction but to Platina, it was an ugly sham and a blatant disregard for the natural luster of the oak and limber they were made from.

But no one cared and that apathy festered in the overall character of the populace. Frowning villagers pushed their way past each other. Many shouted while others shoved. Fights were prevalent and often there were more than a few broken and bloodied noses before an end came about. The Villnore soldiers never bothered to intervene. In most cases, they would watch. Ale was hot and foul on the breath of most men and several women. And the doors to the Kingfisher Inn were always swinging, expunging its alcoholics and vagrants, it's troublemakers and rioters, like so much filth.

Nevertheless, it was the Inn that she was headed towards. Platina's eyes lowered into a disgusted frown and she drew her arms tighter over her bucket. The doors exploded outward, regurgitating a robust man with ale soaking down the front of his sweat-stained tunic. His belly snuck out from under the bottom where it undulated in his fit of intoxicated laughter. Platina quickly moved to the side as the man stumbled past her, heedless of everything else while he shook a partly filled mug of foaming liquid that spilled with every wave of his arm.

She quickly moved inside. The putrid odor seized her first. Sweat mingled with ale and vomit to produce such a unique scent that it made her head swim. The room was awash in bright, candle-lit, lanterns that swung from the rafters. The multitude of round, wood tables were filled with patrons swinging overfull mugs of foaming ale and bawling in riotous laughter. Buxom barmaids sauntered from table to table, giggling at every flirtatious slap and wink the drunkards sent their way. Many of the patrons were villagers while others were travelers and soldiers. But all of them looked as though they'd consumed more than a healthy amount of the brackish liquid. Platina scrunched her nose and picked up her step, hurrying towards the back of the room.

An aged bar table stood against the back wall where a portly man cleaned and lined several mugs with a greasy towel thrown over one shoulder. The man had a thinning mane of salt and pepper hair with a bushel mustache sitting just under his nose and a light stubble of hair sprouting along his jaw line. As she drew closer, the man looked up with a smile on his face.

"Platina! Right on time, as usual!"

Platina nodded with a meek smile and her eyes drew down in modesty. "Hi Mr. Detterby. I brought your water." Her voice was demure and low.

But Millard Detterby was a loud and boisterous man. He threw his head back and laughed. "Of course ye did, girl! That should be the last bucket we'll need for the day. Set it down in the back and get warm by the ovens. There's a bitter wind out there today, about as bitter as that hag-mother of yers!"

Platina bristled but said nothing. Detterby eyed her for a moment before slapping a thick hand against her shoulder. "Now don't ye go getting defensive. That was supposed to be a joke!"

Platina tipped her head just slightly and pushed the corners of her mouth up but they were a long way from reaching her eyes.

Detterby shook his head. "Okay, okay already! Just head along in the back. Rest yer feet for a while!"

"Thank you." Platina walked over to the back door that swung open when she leaned into it. In the back, there were several rows of cooking ovens and various men and women in grey aprons rushing back and forth as they cooked and prepared several meals. The delicious scent of various spices and herbs wavered in the air with the hiss and pop of steaming pots and pans. One of the men turned and smiled her way.

"Platina! More water for us, is it? Good! Good! Set it down right over there."

Platina set the bucket in the corner and the cook waved his arm. He was a gangly man with bulging shoulders and boney fingers. The man looked to be in his middle years and he only had a few good teeth but he never stopped smiling. "Thank you kindly! Now you go on and get warm by the oven over there. I recon Detterby won't have another task for you until you get some heat on those bones o' yours!"

"Thank you." Platina blushed and turned to walk over towards the ovens.

"Platina!"

She turned quickly at the sound of her name, catching sight of a slim young woman rushing towards her with red hair and pink freckles, wearing a tan waitress outfit. The woman smiled and waved as she walked closer, smoothing the wrinkles from her uniform. Platina smiled back and raised her hand. "Hi Heather."

"I hear Detterby gave you a break?"

"Only a short one."

"Great! Come with me!"

Platina started when the young woman quickly grabbed her hand, dragging her down the isle, past warm ovens and delicious scents. Platina managed a final, disparaging glance towards the warm ovens she'd been looking forward too. She turned her eyes back to her red haired friend as they walked closer towards the back of the room.

"Where are we going?" Platina blinked.

"you'll see!"

Heather grinned as they walked to the end then turned right where a narrow hallway opened up with two doors on either side. One door was locked and clearly marked as the Inn keeper's office. Platina eyed the second door and frowned. "The store room?"

Heather grinned and pushed the door open. "Can you think of a better place?"

Platina sighed as they entered the room. As she suspected, it was full of cobwebs, stacked crates and bagged produce. But, to its credit, there were no windows, doors or cracks for outsiders to listen in on them. She slowly closed the door. "No. But why are we here again?"

Heather rolled her eyes and smiled. "Because I like to talk to my friend without the red coats hanging over my shoulder."

Platina smirked and folded her arms. "That's never stopped you before."

"Ugh! Do you have to be such a drag, Platina? Just shut up and listen, will you?"

Platina smiled. She liked Heather. The young woman was adventurous, flirtatious with men and careless of authority, but she was also kind and the closest friend Platina had. Even on her worst days, the young redhead always found a way to make her smile.

"Okay." Platina shook her head and leaned against one of the wooden crates. "What's so important that you needed to interrupt my nice 'warm' break?"

Heather dropped herself onto a different crate and leaned forward. " Have you heard about the commotion, earlier?"

"Commotion?" Platina narrowed her eyes. "This is the first I've heard of it."

"You're kidding, right?"

The young woman shook her head and Heather immediately threw her hands up in exasperation. "My God, Platina! You really 'do' live under a rock don't you?"

Platina shrugged. "A rock would be warmer."

"Har. Har." Heather smirked. "Anyway, since you were too busy being oblivious to everything, 'I' saw a group of red coats dragging something big through the gates. And apparently they were having a lot of trouble with it."

"Something big?" Platina blinked her eyes. "I was out getting water. I think I would have seen something like that. When did this happen?"

"Just this morning." Heather grinned and leaned, pushing her back against an adjoining crate. "Some people thought it was just a pack of provisions or something. But that doesn't make sense. Our village is suffering from a drought but we can at least grow enough that soldiers don't need to import their own food. Not even Villnore's that stupid."

"So what do you think it was?" Platina leaned with interest.

"Well, everyone's got their own opinions but…" Heather lowered her voice and shifted her eyes from side to side. "I think it was a prisoner!"

"A prisoner!?!"

"Shh! Not so loud!"

Platina frowned. "Heather, that's ridiculous! Why would Villnore bring their prisoners here?"

Heather narrowed her eyes. "Don't ask me. Probably for the same reason they're building that stupid tower in the middle of the fucking town!"

Platina dipped her head low. "I don't like that ugly thing either. It's killing all the plants. Have you noticed? Nothing grows anymore."

"Of course I've noticed!" Heather scowled. "Villnore! They destroy everything they touch!"

Platina squirmed under her friend's suddenly dark mood and cleared her throat. "In any case, that still doesn't mean it was a prisoner."

"Platina! It was moving! I saw it!"

"Well! Maybe it was some wild animal?"

"If that were the case, then why didn't they just kill it?"

Platina blanched. "I don't know! Maybe it's rare?"

Heather rolled her eyes again. "As if! Since when has Villnore cared about rare species?"

Platina shook her head. "Even if it was a prisoner, that still doesn't explain why they'd bring it here. Where would they keep it anyway? It's not like Coriander has a prison."

Heather grinned. "I betcha they'll take it to the village consulate where they hold the slaves! That's where the red coats always go!"

Platina fingered her chin in thought. "Maybe…"

Heather grinned wolfishly and she stared at Platina. The violet haired woman caught her gaze and frowned.

"What's with that look?"

Heather only smiled more. "Do you really need to ask?"

Platina blanched immediately. "No! Heather no! Absolutely not! No way! We are not sneaking into the consulate!"

"And why not?" The red head propped her hands against her hips. "It's 'our' town after all. We have a right to go wherever we want!"

"It's also occupied! We could get arrested!" Platina narrowed her brows. "Or worse! I've heard some of the guards have even taken villagers away as slaves!"

Heather smirked. "Tell me something I don't know. People always get sold into slavery in Coriander."

"Even still!" Platina persisted. "They could do anything! And what do you plan to do anyway? Even if it is a prisoner, helping them would definitely get us in trouble!"

"With who? Occupiers who build giant, life-sucking towers that kill our village day by day? Or would you rather we always bend our heads when they walk by? I don't know about you, but I'm tired of those sleazy bastards kicking their feet up on our tables and acting like royalty while they're destroying our town!"

Platina shook her head. "So you want to sneak into the consulate and visit a prisoner? How much sense does that make?"

"Maybe it doesn't make any sense!" Heather shook her hands. "Maybe I'm just sick and tired of falling in line. Marching to their every drum! Maybe - Maybe I just!" The young woman balled her fists until they shook and closed her eyes tightly.

Platina watched her friend with soft eyes and leaned closer. "Heather?"

But the fiery haired woman bent low and crushed the heels of her palms against her eyes, extinguishing a ragged sigh. "Just forget it." She said in a raw voice. "If you don't want to go, you can stay here. But I'm still going!"

Platina's brows lowered. "Heather, do you even know what you're saying; what you're attempting is madness! And what do you think that w-"

"Platina! Heather! Where are you girls? It's getting busy!"

Both women winced and traded uneasy glances.

"We'd better get back, before we get caught." Platina squirmed.

Heather sighed and rose to her feet, smoothing her uniform. "Yeah. I guess. Look, Platina…"

The young woman paused. "Yes?"

"Just think about it, will you?"

Platina frowned. "I… I'll think about it."

Heather smiled. "That's all I ask."

"HEATHER! PLATINA! Where the hell are ye!?!"

Both women started.

"We'd better get going." Platina insisted.

"Yeah!"

They quickly rushed out the door and paused when they met Detterby halfway down the hall with his pudgy fists locked against his hips. "I said ye could have a few moments to get warm, not that ye could roam about wherever ye want."

"I'm so sorry!" Platina bowed her head. "It was my idea. I - I wanted to talk with Heather!"

Heather blanched immediately. "Platina! That's not-"

"I don't care what it was about!" Detterby folded his arms. "The two of ye got double dish duty tonight! No exceptions! Now get out there and wait on those customers! And Platina, get out of those rags and into uniform!"

"Y- yes sir!"

The two women rushed out like headless chickens and Detterby chuckled, shaking his head. He had a sinking feeling it was already going to be a very long day.

XXXX

Several leagues away and across the waves, one man marveled at the blue sky glazed with massive clouds and brilliant sunlight. The Paletian sea rolled its heavy currents while a collection of trade boats sailed steadily with the wind; their course carried them northward towards the coastline.

The lone man continued to gaze skyward as throngs of sailors and passengers alike shuffled back and forth. Men shouted while others struggled, carrying supplies and shipments over aged wood. The constant pounding of feet rained from all corners of the deck, broken only by an inconsistent stream of hammering, or cargo slamming into the floor or the waves themselves, smashing into the hull of the ship.

None of these sounds seemed to bother the man. Covered from head to toe in flowing robes of grey, to any onlooker, he was merely a peasant, hoping to find a better life across the sea. The sailors paid him no heed. His papers were cleared. As long as he paid his fare, he was none of their concern.

Wavy blond locks danced from just beneath his cowl as a bold trail of wind picked up along his face. The wood creaked against a set of footfalls and a shadow loomed just behind him. Finally, the man's eyes fell to regard the shadow at his feet. A hand clapped his shoulder and it was then, he turned his face.

"It's nice, huh?" The man behind him asked. He was similarly dressed, although his robes fell against a more gangly frame. Under his cowl, a spike of azure hair tumbled over viridian eyes that danced with confidence and amusement. "It's not often we have a chance to laze about, do we?"

The first man turned to face him, leaning his back against the railing. "Don't get used to it."

The blue haired man found a seat in the form of stacked crates and lowered himself onto them. "How long?"

"The shipmaster says we should make landfall in less than a day."

The blue haired man whistled. "That soon? I thought it would take longer."

"Fair winds, this time of year. That's the going theory, anyway." The man shrugged and again trained his eyes skyward with an almost wistful stare. "It is God's will. We shall arrive when and where we are supposed to."

The second man shifted and this time he too looked skyward. " So… Coriander huh? Not much there to see. Can't say much about the women either. It's a completely boring place."

The first man smiled thinly and shook his head. "Ever the vagrant, aren't you?"

His companion smirked in response. "Someone has to be. But I confess, with you around, it's not easy."

"How are the others faring?"

"As well as can be expected, I guess." The blue haired man shrugged. "Badrach caused a bit of a stir earlier but we managed to get a handle on the situation. Everything's going smooth… Almost too smooth for our luck."

The first man frowned slightly but nodded to his companion's observation. "Indeed. But we must trust in our chances. God willing, we will pass through the village with no trouble and be on our way soon enough."

The second man sighed and stood from his seat. He walked over to the railing, leaning next to his friend while trailing his eyes towards the clouds. "Can we really trust this lead of yours?"

"I've met him several years earlier. He was an honorable man. Yes, I trust him."

The second man frowned. "… Either way, once we hit land, the cast will be set."

The blond nodded, folding his arms. "Yes… everything changes… once we reach Coriander…"

The wind picked up then and a low ebbing howl was their only reply.

XXXX

Several leagues east of Ourellea, another retinue made their way along a different path leading towards the hilly village of Coriander. A sea of dust kicked up a band of 12 armored men riding hard on mares of darkest midnight. Their tethers were pulled tight over frothing muzzles. The riders leaned in with every gallop, as they crested a grassy terrain with rising mountains blooming ahead of them. The lands grew bare the closer they came and the blue skies darkened with a grey pitch.

The dusty road winnowed as it curved then rose beneath a steep hill. But the horses were trained well and thus they dove in, pushing with their legs and galloping with seamless grace, up the rising trail. More mountains prickled along the horizons. The road curved sharp and to their left. But the horses turned as one, diving deep and racing in between two rising mountains on either side of the road; Algrathar and Bairon.

Here, the lead rider pulled at his bridle, slowing his mare. In unison, the other eleven riders slowed their mounts until they came to an easy canter. Clouds of billowing froth bloomed from tethered teeth as their horses panted with exertion.

"I hate this place." One soldier spat as he rode his mount slowly through the mountain pass. The lush green that surrounded them earlier slowly decayed and festered to drooping brown strands of dead, dry vegetation.

The man beside him shook his head, keeping his mount at a steady pace. "It can't be helped. With the war's end, we have to keep our supply imports in order. Even if that means we gotta occupy every village from Villnore to Gerabellum-" The man shrugged. "-Well, orders are orders."

At this, another man tore the crimson, steel helmet from his head and shook his raven locks. "I can face an army of Artolians any day. Hell, I can take on Lassen and Gerabellum too. But this? What use is a sword against a crumbling, decrepit village with stale bread and rotten ale? And for what? A few measly stalks of corn and produce?"

The lead soldier chuckled as he jostled atop his mount, catching everyone's attention. Crimson armor ran the length of his entire body sealing over loose silver chain mail and wool cloth. The man carried a collection of deadly blades strapped to his back and a wicked long sword with a decorated hilt signifying his rank. This man pulled his own helmet away and glanced towards his companions. Each man under his command flinched automatically at the sight.

A mane of drooping auburn hair fell against a face born of war. His right eye was covered against a black, leather patch while an aged gouge ran vertically bisected it from temple to jaw. His lips were thinned and shriveled behind a nest of scars as if his very maw had, at one time, been sewn shut. His left cheek sported another set of cross hatch scars while his half-covered ear seemed to be malformed and gnarled at the lobe. His was the face of nightmares, and the effect was certainly not lost on all who gazed upon him.

Captain Lurt silently thrilled at their reactions. He enjoyed the fear he struck in others. Whether they were comrades or enemies, it made no difference; fear commanded obedience in his men and sealed defeat in his enemies. He had long ago lost his innocence if he ever had any to begin with. His life had been one of pain and death and he had decided very early in his life that he would be the hand that produced more. It was a decision that earned him the respect of his betters, the fear of his equals and the death of his enemies. He was Villnore's demon and everyone who knew him, knew enough not to desire his company for long; he would kill indiscriminately at the beck and call of his emperor, for his was a long history of slaying anyone he thought was in opposition to the crown, be they insubordinates or enemies. Why he was assigned to this village with them, the others didn't know, but they dared not question it, not while the demon was in their midst.

Lurt smirked towards his troops now, a frightening visage that made his face all the more haunting; scar-laced flesh pulled - threatening to tear - as those shriveled lips roped their way up along one side of his cheek. "Who ever said we were stopping just for produce?" his single, cerulean-blue eye stared hard at each and every one of them.

The man directly behind him gulped and shifted uncomfortably in his own mount. "But… sir. Aren't our orders to collect supplies from Coriander?"

The scarred man guffawed. "Only if we were livin twenty years ago, boy! How old are you now? Nineteen?"

"T- twenty three s-sir!" The man was visibly nervous at his commander's mirth.

But their captain didn't seem to notice or care. He swiveled forward and trained his eye back on the road ahead of him. "Then it's time you understood, things can change in twenty years. Twenty years ago, Villnore didn't have Crell Monfereigne and Asgard on their side. Twenty years ago Lassen, Artolia and Gerabellum were all vying for the water ways. Twenty years ago Villnore was desperate for supplies. You know what hasn't changed in twenty years?"

The soldier flinched now and squirmed in his saddle. "N- no sir."

"That pathetic hamlet that calls itself a village. For twenty years they sat, useless to the empire during the entire war. Their crops have always been pathetic. Their taxes are worse. And they have no type of militia whatsoever. It's past time Villnore made use of them."

Another man leaned forward, daring interest against the fear their commander spiked in him. "So what are we going to the village for?"

The scarred man leaned back comfortably in his saddle while his mount cantered forward. "There's more than just produce and supplies that sail over the Paletian sea."

"Slaves then?" Another man perked up.

But their commander shook his head. "That's part of it. Coriander's never short on slaves and that's one spike of usefulness they retain to the crown. But these are dangerous times, boy. Artolia's dead and their crown is broken but there's still a fair share of steel yet to be tempered."

"Insurrectionists?" Another soldier asked. His tone was incredulous. "Sir, do you really think any rebels would dare cross into our boarders?"

The commander shrugged, wearing a large smirk. "Who knows. But my orders come from the emperor himself. Apparently they caught a particularly interesting fish who might be able to tell us more. And I guarantee if he knows anything, he'll sing like a canary when I'm through with him!" Lurt threw his head back and laughed long and hard as they cantered through the mountain pass, his shrill mirth echoing along the rising mountains with a chilling wind blowing in the distance.

XXXX

Evening came swiftly under the toil of rising dishes with unspeakable stains and endless floor scrubbing, table washing, and order taking. Platina's back screamed in protest when she bent low to rinse the final dish. She drug a soapy arm across her brow and sighed in relief.

"Finally!" She smiled

"It's about time you finished!" Heather smirked, wiping her hands with a stained towel. "You always take forever to wash your dishes!"

Platina grinned and turned around. "Oh hush, you!" She shook her finger and a clump of soapy dishwater sprang towards her red haired friend. Heather ducked, chuckling when the projectile smashed into the window behind her.

"Oh! This means war!" she shaved a palm full of her own soapy dish water and hurled it back.

"NO!" Platina squealed as the water smashed dead center into the middle of her apron. She ginned and snagged two clumps of the soapy water in each hand. Heather fell into a fit of laughter while her friend launched both loads. She ducked again but not before one load splashed against her bun of tied crimson hair.

"Ugh! Do you know how long it takes to clean this hair?"

Platina grinned. "Well, since it's soap, it should only take half as long now."

Heather stuck out her tongue.

"Girls!" Detterby rapped his knuckles against the door of the kitchen. "You two done yet?"

Platina blushed and tried to smooth away the large stain in her apron when the Bartender entered.

"U- um, almost, sir!"

Detterby paused, took one look at the girls and smirked. "Do I even want to know what happened this time?"

Heather covered her mouth, holding back her laughter while shaking her head rapidly. "Probably not, Mr. Detterby." She managed between trembling lips.

Detterby raised a brow and stared towards Platina. "I trust you at least finished your dishes? Or did they somehow manage to fall prey to this…" he gestured with a wave of his arm. "Catastrophic predicament?"

Platina coughed, behind her own fit of giggles. "Ahem, ye- yes sir. The dishes are done."

Detterby nodded skeptically then walked over towards each sink surveying the rows of clean lined dishes and nodded with a smile. "Good work. Well ladies… despite the… unfortunate torture your aprons have undoubtedly endured, you've done good today."

Platina blushed. "Thank you sir."

"Samantha and Bridget are wiping down the last tables. And the boys are taking care of the late guests. You two go ahead and take off. It's a bit earlier than usual but you did a lot today." Detterby smiled broadly. "You've earned it."

Both girls beamed brightly. "Thank you sir." They said almost in unison.

Detterby turned and walked back towards the door. "yeah yeah, don't forget your pay. I left it in each of your cloak pockets."

And with that, the Inn keeper walked out the swinging door leaving a trail of footfalls in his wake.

Heather grinned. "I am soooooo purchasing a pair of warm mittens tomorrow morning!" She swung around with her arms folded and beamed at Platina. "What about you? What are you going to spend your pay on?"

Platina blanched and ducked her head low. "Umm… I haven't decided yet." She answered weakly.

Heather shook her head. "We'll think of something! Let's go shopping in the market tomorrow!"

Platina winced. "I … can't. I have to help my mother."

Heather frowned immediately. "Ugh! Doesn't that hag have anything better to do with her time than waste yours?"

Platina bristled. "Heather! That's my mother!"

The redhead threw her arms up. "Well I'm sorry! But seriously Platina! Your mother's a prude! What can I say?"

Platina folded her arms with a glare. "That my mother's not a prude, for starters. Look, just because everyone else in town doesn't like her doesn't mean you have to belittle her too!"

Heather balked. "Even if she belittles everyone else? How can you defend that woman? She treats you worse than anyone else! Yet you're the only one who stands up for her!"

Platina lowered her eyes and folded her arms. "Of course! She's my mother!"

Heather frowned and shook her head. "Sometimes I just don't understand you!"

Platina smiled and turned around. "That's fine. I don't mind being mysterious!"

Heather smirked. "I didn't mean like that, smartass!"

Platina snuck her head back around sticking out her tongue. "Too late!"

"Ugh! Whatever!"

Both women walked out the room giggling to themselves. As they passed the main room, Bridget and Samantha were wiping down the tables. Three of the male staff were ushering the last patrons from the tavern and a fourth was sweeping the floors when they walked by.

"Platina! Heather!" he smiled, waving his hand.

Heather turned around and smiled when she saw who it was. Platina looked over too then blushed and ducked her head low. Heather smirked at her friend's reaction and waved. "Hey Steve! Working late tonight?"

"Yeah…" The young man smiled and ran his fingers through a full mane of auburn locks that reached to his shoulders. "Umm, listen. Platina, tomorrow's your day off right?"

Platina blanched and nodded her head, still not looking directly at the young man, instead favoring a glance towards the floor in front of her. "Y- yes."

"Well, um, hey maybe if you're not doing anything, we can hang out? You know, they have this nice restaurant near old man Packards?"

Heather smirked as Platina's cheeks grew red and she shook her head. "Sorry Steve." She spoke up. "Platina's got plans already. She's gotta help her mother out."

Steve's face fell and his smile faltered a little before he brightened a smile once more. "Oh… well, hey that's okay. Maybe… you know, maybe some other time?"

Platina's blush ran deeper and she fingered her chin in embarrassment. "M- maybe."

Steve's smile grew immediately and he waved again. "Great! So, uh, I'll see you two later! Do you need me to walk you home?"

"No Steve." Heather was almost laughing now as she pushed her hands down on Platina's shoulders, ushering her towards the closet room. "We'll be fine!"

"O- okay! Well, a- are you sure y-"

"YES STEVE!" Heather shook her head, barely suppressing her chuckles as the young man fidgeted then turned back to his floor sweeping. Platina's face was bright red all over by now and Heather had to cover her mouth as she quickly pushed her friend into the safety of the closet room.

There, Heather exploded into a fit of laughter, leaving a frowning Platina blushing profusely while folding her arms.

"It's not funny!" She huffed.

"Yes it is!" Heather bawled in a gushing reply.

"You're just lucky Steve isn't fawning all over you!"

Heather waved her hand. "Oh don't you worry about that. I've got my share!"

Platina sighed and walked over to her cloak, pulling the fabric around her shoulders. "I don't know what to do about him."

Heather smiled, pulling her own cloak down. "Go out with him! He's cute. And he's nice! I think you two would make a cute couple!"

Platina bristled. "It's not that easy." She wrapped her cloak over her slight frame and pulled her cowl over her purple hair.

Heather sighed. "Nothing's ever easy with you, is it? What's there to complain about? It's obvious the boy likes you!"

"I'm just not ready for that kind of thing yet!"

"Why? Because of your mother?" Heather wrapped her own black cloak around her shoulders, fastening the hood against its wool collar.

"That's not it. Actually, mother expects me to find a man so he can help around the house."

"Then what's the problem?"

Platina shook her head and snuggled into the fabric of her own cloak. "Let's just drop it, okay?" She turned and walked out the closet with Heather fast on her heels.

Steve and the other men and women turned as the two women walked up the isles. "See you gals tomorrow!" one of them waved. The others waved also and Steve smiled at Platina. The violet haired woman blushed and hurried towards the exit.

Once they pushed past the swinging doors, Heather shook her head. "I know what it is!"

Platina bristled and hugged her arms against her shoulders, partly because of the frigid night air. "Can't we just drop it?"

Heather shook her head. "Not a chance! It's because of that boy, isn't it! The one you told me about?"

Platina sighed. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

"Platina! It's been seven years! The boy's not coming back!"

"You never met him!"

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

Both women paused as a pair of guards came marching up the road, their hands resting casually against the hilts of their blades. They seemed lost in their own sea of conversation but their presence still put both women on edge.

Platina bristled when they passed her and goose bumps ran up the back of her spine. Heather snarled under her breath. "Ugh. Now I'm going to have to bath for a week."

Platina grinned, staring sideways at her. "That might actually be an improvement."

The redhead shoved her snickering friend. "Shut up, you!"

Platina spun around and stuck out her tongue. "Make me!"

Heather raised her arm. "How about I put my fist in your mouth?"

"Can't" Platina teased. "I'm faster than you!"

Heather rolled her eyes and stuffed her hands under her arms as they walled, breathing a puff of frigid white breath into the night air. "Say, Platina?"

"Mm?"

"Have you thought about what I asked you earlier?"

Platina turned to regard her friend. "You mean about the consulate?"

"Yeah." Heather blew into her shivering hands.

"A bit…"

"And?" Heather peered at her, trying to discern her expression.

Platina pushed a cloud of air past her lips and tightened her arms about herself. "Why are you so obsessed over this?"

Heather sighed and raised her eyes towards the starlit sky. Sparkling embers of crystal light dotted the pitch blank canvas winking in and out between the rolling clouds. The moon's shadow snuck behind a thin layer, dimming its light. Heather stared at the guarded light and walked several paces ahead of her friend. The wind blow, sweeping against them both and Platina drew her arms closer, shivering in the distance.

A silence grew between them. Platina hastened to catch up to her friend and was beginning to wonder if she'd answer.

"Haven't you ever wondered?"

Platina blinked at the sudden question and tilted her head to the side. "Wondered? About what?"

Heather shrugged. "What life would be like, outside the box."

"How do you mean?"

Heather swung around on her heels, facing Platina while walking backwards. "I'm talking about FREEDOM Platina! Breaking the rules! Following your own whims and desires! Just- I dunno, getting away from it all!"

Platina frowned and a sour taste found its way in the back of her mouth. Nostalgia seized her unawares and she turned her face away with sinking shoulders. "No." She replied in a low, dry voice.

"I have." Heather continued, undeterred. "When I was little, growing up was always a struggle. You know how it was. Grueling labor every day. And you always had to do everything exactly right. You 'Know' what happens to the kids who don't. I mean how can you live a life like that? Constantly wondering if you're going to be sold? Constantly fearing that the world you know could suddenly be torn from you at any moment?"

Platina didn't answer and the two continued their walk in silence a few paces more.

"I had a little brother… Did you know that?"

Platina wilted and shook her head with sad eyes.

"He was only eleven when they sold him. Eleven! Can you imagine what that must have been like for him? It was hell for me! Absolute 'Hell'!

"At least you knew him for that long…"

"Don't patronize me!"

Platina flinched and Heather sighed, shaking her head.

"The day my brother was sold was the day I promised myself I wouldn't be somebody else's pawn. I started sneaking out the house at night. At first it was just to get away. And then, I started exploring. Eventually Detterby found me and offered me a job. I started slow. The hours were bad and the work was hard but it was my first bit of freedom. It was the first time I made a choice on my own outside my parents knowledge. It wasn't until years later that they found out and when they tried to sell me, Detterby backed me up. Because I worked for him, I was exonerated from their attempt to sell me."

Platina blinked. "I didn't know you could do that."

Heather shrugged. "Neither did I. But that Detterby, he's a good man. He paid a hefty price for clearing me. But when I offered to work it off, he told me it was settled. He figured, since he never paid me when I worked for him before, he was making up for all the back pay. Ever since then, I worked at the Kingfisher. I was finally getting my life together when those red coat bastards came barging in! It's like I'm ten all over again, constantly having to watch my every step. Constantly living in fear! What kind of life is that Platina? Tell me!"

But Platina only shook her head. "I don't know. I just wish people could get along and live peacefully…"

"Hah! Peaceful?!?" Heather blew out a sigh and folded her arms. Silence crept between them. They walked a few more paces, passing through the market sector and entering into the cluster of residential houses when Heather finally shifted and looked at her friend. "People used to say that things would get better once the war was over."

"That's what they told me too. But mother never believed it. She'd always say that nothing stays the same. And when things change they never go back to the way they were."

Heather smirked sardonically. "And here I thought I'd never agree with anything that hag ever said."

Platina winced. "Would you stop calling her that?"

Heather sighed and rubbed her hands together. "It just makes me wonder, you know? I mean we live under the banner of the empire but does that necessarily mean they're right?"

Platina smirked. "Careful. That's treason talking."

"I'm serious, Platina! I mean, really! We live in a village where the adults have no compunctions about carting us off like we're nothing more than cattle. And then our village is constantly taxed on top of that. And now when the war is finally over, they have soldiers barging in, taking all of our crops! You'd think the war just started! But instead, we're being leached inside and out!"

"As opposed to what?" Platina looked over at her friend. "Who's to say the opposing side was any better?"

Heather shrugged. "As if I'd know. I barely know anything about the war itself. All I hear is, now that it's over, more traders and villagers are moving in and out of the village. Detterby says its because there was a blockade over the seaways."

"What's a blockade?" Platina frowned.

"Basically it's an order prohibiting ships from moving in or out of a specified section of water."

Platina balled her face up. "But that's stupid. Why would they do that?"

"To keep out enemy ships maybe? I dunno. I guess since they didn't have any troops in this area, maybe they didn't want invaders to come through. But in the long run, it suffocated business for our village."

"Why's that?"

"Well, Detterby says that twenty years ago, before the war started, ships used to sail here all the time. Business was always good and Coriander used to be huge. I mean everyone lived well- not as well as Villnore, mind you. But most people never wanted for anything. I guess there was always the lower class but the divide between them and the upper class used to be a lot bigger." The redhead gestured towards some of the taller buildings that were now vacant and crumbling. "See those? According to Detterby, they used to be the highlight of the village. It was where the wealthy lived and they flaunted that wealth with high buildings towering above everyone else."

Platina snuck her chin under her cloak collar and rubbed her shoulders. "Detterby sure knows a lot."

Heather shrugged. "He's been around for a while I guess. But he's not happy about the occupation either."

"Really? I thought he liked the increased business."

"Not nearly. The soldiers are scaring away most of his regulars and they always drink up a huge chunk of his stock at a fraction of the cost he normally charges. It's really bad for his business."

"Oh… I never knew."

Heather grinned. "That's because you're an airhead!" she bopped her friend over the head and Platina stumbled.

"Hey!"

"What about you? Why did you start working for Detterby? I'd have never thought that hag mother of yours would let you ten feet from her house."

Platina frowned. "Could you please stop calling her that?"

"Sorry, slip of the tongue."

Platina shook her head. "She says it's unbecoming that I should live in her house and not do my share."

Heather blanched in disgust. "What!?! Was that before or after scrubbing her floors, washing her clothes, scrubbing her dishes, fixing her roof and God knows what else you do for her?"

Platina smiled lightly. "I really don't mind it. After all, getting this job gave me the opportunity to meet you, right?"

Heather smiled at that. "You're darn right it did!"

A chill wind swept through the streets and both women bristled.

"Well, hey, I better get going." Heather hugged her arms tightly to herself. "You'll be okay the rest of the way home, right?"

Platina smirked. "You should be more concerned about yourself. You're prettier than me."

Heather smirked back. "I know!" She flaunted. "But you're more helpless than me."

Platina rolled her eyes, giggling. "Take care, Heather. I'll see you tomorrow."

Heather paused, opening her mouth to say more then frowned and nodded tightly. "Yeah… yeah I'll see you tomorrow. Whenever your mother lets you enjoy your own time, that is."

Platina fidgeted while her friend turned.

"Heather?"

The woman paused, looking back. "What's up?"

Silence filled the void between them as Platina bit her lip and stared down at her feet. Heather raised an eyebrow and folded her arms while Platina drew hers together in apprehension. Finally, the young woman clenched her shivering hands and raised her eyes to match her friends. "I… I'll do it!"

Heather blinked. "What?"

"I'll go… To the consulate with you."

"Really!?"

Platina folded her arms. "I still think it's a mistake… But I don't want to be left alone a second time."

Heather blinked. "A second time? What's that supposed to mea-"

"Good night Heather." Platina turned sharply and hurried down the road before her friend could say any more.

Heather frowned, pondering her words until another chill breeze ruffled her cloak. She shivered and turned towards her own lodgings. "Good night." She mumbled, shuffling up the street and into the darkness of the night.

:::::To Be Continued:::::

:::::Author's Note: Please excuse my removal of the old story. I felt the pace was inconsistent and stagnant. Hopefully you will all enjoy the new, revised edition more. Thank you for reading, please review and please stay tuned for Chapter 2: Against The Tide.

Writing Gamer