Day 49: BS


DAY 49: BS

          As soon as they exit the vicinity of Reca, the rest of the Land of Edaps is like a slap in the face.

It's almost as if they've stepped through another one of Orian's portals. The trees are alive. In the valley below there are gorgeous streams and bodies of water. The quiet is welcoming.

          There's such an abundance of breathtaking beauty—serenity—that Leda can't recognize it as the same kingdom belonging to Reca.

But there's one thing that stands out from everything, that even Orian can depict.

There's nothing edible. In the lakes, there isn't sign of a single fish. Amongst the scattered trees there aren't any animals, squeaking critters—bugs.

        "This is extremely odd," Orian murmurs.

         "Very," Leda agrees, eyeing her reflection in the water below.

She peers upwards at the falling water cascading down the waterfall to its origins. Hailed at very top of the hill is a large scuffed statue of a woman; her hands by her cheeks, incessant gushes of water pouring out from her eyelids and into the creek. Almost as if it's indicating she's crying.

Nonetheless, Leda's body weighs a ton as she picks herself from the ground. Ignoring the dust that'd accumulated on her clothing, she stares forward, past Orian and onto the vast greenery waiting for them to cross.

           "How long until we reach Depree?"

          Orian glances at the map Annika was glad to bestow. It's ragged and old, but it's recent enough to follow.

          "We should be there by sundown," he responds.

          A sigh slips from Leda's mouth as she stretches. She caves over, curling her arms over my rumbling stomach. One would think, being in a fantastical land with such abundant beauty she wouldn't have to worry about starving herself, yet here she is.

        There isn't a single thing that's changed from where she grew up...

         "Master Leda, are you all right?" Orian worriedly asks. "It's because I gave away all of the meat, isn't it?"

         She subconsciously chews on her lower lip and and feigns a smile. "I'm fine, Orian. Let's hurry."

         She slips by him before he can refute, dragging her sluggish legs forward. They're heavy, and her calves are burning but she does her all to ignore her exhaustion. Orian, on the other hand, surprisingly doesn't appear burnt out in the least, and catches up with ease.

Her eyes fall upon his head and jerking ears, then down to his tail.

         "Is everyone in the Land of Dia really half-animal?"

          Orian flinches at the unexpected question.

          "And can you all do that whole portal thing? Or are you the only one who can use magic? Adi didn't seem to know anything about the stuff."

           Orian remains silent for a good moment, his features shifting to one of contemplation. "'Magic' exists all around Annadia. There are various kinds of spells as there are the various kinds of people. And when it concerns the four suit kingdoms in particular, each kingdom is subjected to their own spells and incantations."

Leda finds her eyebrows scrunching.

He continues, "Just as the Land of Dia consists of halves like Master Rhett and I, the abilities we are able to master relies heavily on our physical capabilities and our ancestral lineage."

"So, they're unique across the suits?"

He nods. Exactly as he always gets in the topic of the suits, he beams. "Each suit is blessed by a particular ancient fairy. Spades are blessed by Monglows, Hearts by Embres, Clubs by Nettles, and Monds by Silvers. Like I said, everyone can use magic, but the abilities of the fairies differ, thus some suits are naturally blessed with more abilities than others. In the case of Spades, Monglow fairies are very timid, so they bestowed Spades with strong bodies and glamour spells. As a result, Spades have generally never had to rely largely on magic in their daily functions. Most of their 'magic' is instead concentrated on other, more strength-based fields. For example, their military strength."

Leda ponders. "Based off these ancient... faeries, then, can it be possible for a suit to use summoning spells?"

         He pauses. "I doubt a Spade or Mond are capable of wielding summoning spells. That would fall more under Heart territory, if anything. Though, magic varies as I've said. There are sometimes outliers who challenge the system. But even if a suit could perform the such, it would be extremely rare. Using summoning spells doesn't necessarily mean we can create things from 'thin air.' Magic in itself cannot be created from anything or destroyed entirely—only transferred from one form to another. And in this case, it would take a lot of stamina and power to be able to provide for an entire town."

Well, there goes that idea. Using magic to solve this famine or illness would be ideal, but real or fantastical world, things don't work so easy.

"Guess we're stuck smacking the king."

Orian stiffens at Leda's nonchalance. She carries on without a care, clueless to the strain riddling his countenance. "Please do not say that even if it's a joke, Master!"

♥♦♣♠

Soldiers heavily guard the towering walls encasing Depree when they arrive. They stand tall and poised, their spade-patterned quarterstaves posted at their chests. There's honour in them, and a huge sense of refinement, even from Leda and Orian's distance.

       Nevertheless, Leda's focus is on the never-ending stream of citizens stretching from the main entrance of the capital. All appear as scruffy and weary as the citizens back in Reca.

"What's going on?" Leda asks the person at the end of the line.

        The old man cranes his neck her way, his yellow eyes and blue hair a paler hue compared to everyone else she's encountered in Edaps. "We're waiting to be let in to the capital," he replies, voice raspy and hoarse.

         "All these people?" she demands. There's enough for there to be a whole town—no, two town's worth.

          The man squints at Leda before shifting his eyes to Orian. "You two are from Meisyr, eh?"

          Leda's startled he can tell in an instant.

          "Well," he continues regardless, "if you've come from there you're not wrong for wanting to visit Depree. There's nothing else here anyway."

          He pauses to gander ahead, adjusting the scruffy bag he has wrung over his shoulder.

       "Some words of advice, though," he goes on. "You're not gonna be getting into the capital anytime soon. I've been standing here for an entire day and the line hasn't budged."

          "Quit complaining," jeers the lady in front of him. She spins around, left eyelid narrowed in a dirty scowl. "I've been here for two. And poor Karina in front of me says she's been here for four."

          'Karina' is hunched over on her knees. Even in the setting sun, Leda can see how pale she is. Orian is at her side in an instant, inquiring about her health. Then he's going up the row, tending to the tuckered out citizens who are in weary shape. Leda bites down on her lip, hard. Four whole days? Out here in line? Imagine how many days the people at the front of this huge line had to endure!

         "Why don't you all go home?" she prods the man. "Rest elsewhere and come back in the morning? There shouldn't be such a huge need for you all to stay out here so long."

          He breathes through his nose. "Home?" he echoes, amused. "If we could've stayed there do you think we would've put ourselves in this situation?"

          Her words die in her throat as the lady ahead of him scoffs all the same.

          "No food for miles, the bodies of water in our respective towns and villages are drying up. I'm not sure what you've heard from the other kingdoms, and even Meisyr, but the Land of Edaps is no longer the place it was. And the only area untouched is our holy capital, Depree."

          "We've all become desperate," the man goes on. "We have no choice but to come here. It's reached all of our ears how fortunate Depree still is, and we wish to become apart of it."

          "In Depree, the nobles don't have to go hungry," Karina adds from her place the ground, lips tight. "They can eat all they want, drink all they want, attend schools... They're happy beyond compare." She lowers her sleeve to her elbow, revealing the same tattered dots staggering her arms, and bitterly frowns. "And with the doctors there they won't have to suffer from this terrible disease either. They won't have to lose their loved ones to it, over and over..."

          "We all desire their prosperity," the lady grumbles, her glare now aimed directly at Leda. "That's why we're here."

         Conversation ceases at that, but an insurmountable amount of anger has slithered through Leda's veins.

         Reca isn't the only place.

         The realization is deafening in her ears, allowing for her blood to boil.

         "Is Depree a city for nobles?" she asks one last time, grounding her teeth.

          "Always been," the man replies. "The middle and lower class Spades have always lived on the outskirts of the Land of Edaps. Depree is smack-dab in the middle, and as such, is the largest and most beautiful—"

           "—Not to mention the royal family occupies there as well," comments the lady.

           "—So of course it'd consist of upper-class Spades alongside them," finishes the man. "Us lower-grade Spades can only wish to receive the treatment and honours that they do."

         "BS," she curses.

         The three Spade citizens whip their heads in her direction but she's already fuming.

         "What'd you say?" the man asks.

         "Bullshit!" she screeches, balling her fists in unparalleled frustration. "Regardless of who you are you should be receiving basic rights! And yet these royals are taking it all away from you!"

          Their countenances shift to one of sadness, but there isn't a single thing they say that argues otherwise.

          "Young lad," the man says.

         Orian is behind Leda at once and with a polite smile, he drags her away from them until they're a fair space away.

          "Master Leda," he begins.

          "You're seeing this too, aren't you?" she demands from him. "Let alone adults, children have died because of this royal family—these nobles'—greed! They're making their entire kingdom—the 'lesser Spades'—people suffer, and they don't give a single damn!"

Orian opens his mouth again, but this time nothing short of a timid whimper flows out of his mouth. He's never done well to pressure.

         "And then they treat them like that?" she goes on. "Throw them out to the dogs to die?"

     Invisible question marks flutter around Orian's head, but Leda can care the least about his confusion to the saying.

        "I'm not letting this BS slide," she reiterates, firmer this time. "These citizens may be able to put up with it but I can't."

          "They may have their own side to the story," Orian reasons for the umpteenth time. "We agreed to talk to the royal family, remember?"

          She intakes a shaky interval of air. As much as it pains her, that is why they're here. Balling her fists, she whispers, "If they're having such a difficult time supplying their citizens, can't they just ask another kingdom to help out?"

          Even before Orian responds, Leda can already tell her idea isn't going to work.

          "It isn't that easy," he finally answers. "The kingdom of Edaps is not exactly open to trade. Never has been. They pride themselves in their ability to work and function themselves. Not to mention they have too much self-respect to rely on others to do their own bidding."

           Leda jerk her head upwards. Orian, spotting her oozing animosity, raises his arms in defence, quaking like a sheet of paper once again.

            "A-at least, that's what I've been told!" he squeaks.

           His fright fills her with regret. Her scowl slips from her features. Orian truly isn't the best person to take your anger out on—he's too innocent and kind. Nevertheless, his reasoning is dumber than the last.

          Not open to trade, not open to letting other Spade citizens into the 'holy' and 'abundant' capital—not giving a single damn about them succumbing to that odd disease and letting them drop like flies one by one?

This royal family, whoever they are, are the definition of terrible! This 'prosperity', this 'pride'—who gives a damn about it! Their citizens are dying! They're suffering and want assistance from their rulers but this royalty isn't giving it!

         Clicking her tongue, she runs her fingers through her tangled curly hair. She groans and meets Orian's eyes for the second time. "We're finding another way inside."

          His mouth falls in disbelief. "B-but there is no other way to enter Depree."

          "And at this rate, we won't be able to speak to the royal family," she states. "Look, just follow me."

          Before he can respond, Leda's already stomping forward, past the disheartening states the people in the line and towards the border the guards are guarding.

           "Wait, Master!" Orian is on her heels. "Where are we going?"

           "Please! I beg of you!"

          The painful cry halts Leda dead in her tracks. She fixes her gaze on the citizen by the entrance only for her jaw to plummet. Almost all the citizens at the front are in horrible shape. Bleeding, scuffed, and consumed in woe. But the guards mercilessly shove them to the ground, the tightest security standing watch at the large bypass behind them.

          "Please help us!" one exclaims.

          "Please," cries another, on his knees, head bowed as he sobs. "Spare just a little bit of food and medicine! I need to care for my ill children! They're on their deathbeds! Please!"

           "How many times must we repeat it?" grunts the guard, jabbing the man in the shoulder and inducing a cry of pain from him. "We don't have anything we can give you people, nor are we letting anyone other than Depree citizens enter through these gates! Go home at once!"

           Leda couldn't have heard this—not from all the way at back. And most of the citizens watching this from afar are consumed with their fear as they cry themselves. But they don't want to give up. They've been standing in this line for maybe even weeks because...

          Orian, being the worrywart he is, is once again at the side of the people knocked over across the lush greenery beneath them. He carefully guides them to a safer proximity, skillfully ripping at his cloak's fabric to wrap the cuts of the people. He even offers them the rest of the water they've salvaged. In no time they've regained a bit of their energy. Orian has that kind of charm. Leda can't be any more grateful that he's here.

        "Who are you?" demands the guard in front of her.

         She stand straight as a ruler, keeping him from the man he'd tossed. Albeit nowhere close to his height, the glower painting her face doesn't fade.

          His malice increases as a response.

          Not only him, but all of the guards aim their weapons at her. They're all wearing matching face masks, the ones doctors wear to remain sanitized. And even in their eyes, they contain not even an ounce of compassion for their actions towards these people.

         "Let me speak to the royal family," she orders.

         He jabs the weapon into my vicinity to keep her back. "The royal family will not be seeing anyone."

          "Then force them to see me," she snaps. "Let me through."

          A second guard shoves her with his quarterstaff and she stumbles.

          "No means no!" he shouts. "I don't care if you're starving or hungry or dying from a disease! On King Oeh's orders, nobody other than noble citizens are allowed into Depree at all costs!"

          "Guards, what is all this commotion? Have you not cleared this area yet? This has been going on for weeks."

          Leda's attention and the rest of the soldiers are drawn at once. Simultaneous gasps immediately follow, and after facing the source, Leda realizes why.

          He's beautiful. Sharp jaw and cheekbones. Eyes almond-shaped—amber like antique jewellery and peppered with a beautiful gold. All of it is framed by thick, blue curls that flutter out and hang by his ears and nape. There's no hiding his silver armour poking out from the royal blue cape he has draped over his shoulders either. It's practically radiating its noble refinement, his upper-class status.

          "Y-you've finally returned," the guard posted on the doors rushes to take the heavy haul he's carrying on his shoulder.

          But this noble's eyes haven't left Leda. His light brows are graceful but currently furrowed in confusion.

          "W-we apologize," sputters the guard so hostile to her moments earlier. "These Spades are very persistent. And this lady here has requested she see the royal family, and..."

          "A human?" he murmurs, voice a purr. With two large strides, he's in a dangerously close proximity. He eyes her carefully, questioningly, as if memorizing every feature on an estranged face. Then, he faces the gates. "Follow me."

       Leda's eyelids shoot high. Is he talking to her? Follow him, as in, he's going to let her inside? That easily?

       All of the guards share her incredulity. None are happy with the idea.

          The one closest to them raises a hand. "But, Your Hi—"

         "I will be bringing her inside," he finalizes, matter-of-factly. He peers over her shoulder. "A Mond, too?" He's noticed Orian. "You've journeyed from Meisyr together, correct?"

          Both Leda and Orian freeze. He can tell?

       "Wait!" the citizens cry out in disbelief.

       "What about us?"

       "Please let us come inside as well!"

          The noble doesn't even glance in their direction. He faces the towering guards, who immediately part and reveal a pathway into Depree.

       Leda grits her teeth. "Hey!" she yells. "Those people are talking to you!"

          "There is no point in responding," he says, placing a brisk foot forward. "I am only allowing you entry due to my curiosity behind your coming here. Take that as a compliment and silence yourself."

          If Orian doesn't hold Leda back and the guards don't lunge into defensive stances, she'll have jumped him. Snarling like a wild beast, Leda glowers mercilessly into his back. What a snobby ass!

         The large doors shut after them, silencing the incessant pleas of the citizens. What's waiting to greet them is the beauty of an abundant city. Glass windows hailing wide assortments of foods and drinks. Antique and medicine shops. Butterfly powered lights enlightening the city in replace of the setting sun.

       As it's sundown, there isn't a citizen in sight. However, Leda can imagine their wide smiles and condescending laughs as they swallowed in all this fortune. She can picture their comfort of waking up in cozy mattresses—being presented piles upon piles of provisions. She can even infer that the population in this 'capital' is nowhere close to the amount from Reca, or those suffering outside. It's much, much less.

         And yet there's not a sign of pain or sorrow within an inch of this ravishing place. And the gorgeous crystalline buildings make this entire capital worthy of the praise from the other Spades.

         She balls her fingers into fists.

        "This place is so beautiful... and abundant with prosperity..."

         Orian quivers beside her, aware she's about to burst. Oblivious to that, the noble merely saunters at a leisurely pace through the vacant roads, guiding them to who knows where.

       "Hey!"

       He doesn't flinch and only continues through the marketplace.

       Before she realizes it, she's grasped him by the collar, forcing his eyes to hers.

       "Why don't you share even a little of this happiness with the rest of Edaps? What makes you think you're so much better than them?"

          "M-Master!" Orian whimpers.

          "You!" shout the guards who accompany them.

          They ready their weapons at once, aiming them at Leda's neck.

         The beautiful man halts them with the wave of his hand. But he isn't remorseful. He's poised, as if he's in the right.

          Leda glowers maliciously.

          "You're a Spade too, aren't you?" she snaps on. "Then you should understand how badly those people are suffering—how badly they want the royal family's help! And yet all of you who are in this capital aren't doing a damn thing!"

          She knows she's stepping way out of line, but her heart won't let it slide. She's seen too much, heard enough.

          "Don't you think anything of it? What's the point of having a royal family—a king—if they can't even help their citizens!"

          The man simply scoffs. "For a human, you sure have a lot to say concerning a pointless issue."

           "Pointless?" She strengthens her grip around the fabric of his collar, tight enough to choke him. "There's no point talking to a fucking noble. Take me to see the royal family. I'm literally gonna smack all of their asses up and down like a volleyball until they bow to their citizens and beg for their forgiveness."

          "Is that supposed to be a threat?"

       She scrunches her nose. He really is odd. Then again, what was she expecting from a noble? He probably stuffs his face to the brim, scoffing and belittling those 'less' than him. It's people like him who grind her gears the absolute most.

          "Of course it's a damn threat!" she bellows.

          "Then." He pries her hand off of him. His gaze is no longer nonchalant and instead smoulders like a scorching fire. "You might as well start with me."

          Leda's jaw collapses as he stands taller and puffs his chest.

          Wait, her mind sputters, is that supposed to mean

          "You are currently speaking to the third prince of the Oeh family—Prince Ronan III." He cockily tilts his head to the side. "Now, it appears I couldn't quite hear you earlier, so I am going to have to ask you to repeat it. What did you say you were going to do to my family?"

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