Arc 4 | Chapter 118: Split

“I feel like Risen Guards are not normally in the habit of kidnapping captives from the Risen Guard.” Emilia glanced over at her kidnapper, who she assumed was Boundary. He had the same height, same build, same general reticence. The man didn’t respond to her comment on the strangeness of the situation, simply continued walking through the quiet halls and letting her fill the silence with her babbling.

Well, if the man wasn’t going to contribute to the conversation, their two tiny companions just as quiet as he was, then she’d just have to fill the space. Small hands clasped both of hers, Astra on one side, and the little nameless boy between her and probably-Boundary, his own gloved hand held by one of the boy’s as well.

It had surprised her a bit, both that the boy would want to hold the quiet man’s hand and that he had accepted. Probably-Boundary had protected the children, though, so maybe he had a soft spot for them? That at least gave her something he might be interested in talking about, and she began to talk about all the things that had happened in the three days they’d been held by the Risen Guard.

Honestly, it wasn’t a lot. The most exciting thing that had happened was someone had popped in to take Miira and several of the other kids away for

assessment.

She had gone with the first few, to make sure everything was on the up and up—it was. From what the Lanaira and Honey had been able to tell her, the kids who were being taken were those whose parents had been discovered dead or in no condition to take them back. They needed somewhere to go now, and they, along with all the other city system children who were suddenly orphans, were being assessed for where they would best fit.

Some would end up as Risen Guards, others sent to trades people or academics or other family members. The fact that Livery was so poor, however, meant that even those children with surviving family may not be welcome back into their homes. It was rough, but at least the Risen Guard seemed to be taking the children’s wellbeing seriously. She had also heard whispers that the overseer who had let the city fall into such disrepair wouldn’t be seen anytime soon. Good.

“What’s going to happen with these two?” Emilia asked, glancing down at the tiny children who accompanied her practically everywhere. The boy could be talked into staying with one of the other adults or older children, but Astra barely left her side. It had made going to the bathroom and bathing awkward for the first day, but she was a kid and neither nudity nor bathroom stuff seemed to bother her, and Emilia had quickly learned to be something much too close to a mom for the little girl.

Boundary—seriously, Emilia was just going to assume some other random Risen Guard hadn’t kidnapped her—glanced down at the children as well. ⸂We do not know who they are. Those with missing children are being asked to report to the Risen Guard with descriptions of them. We have noted their descriptions into a database for comparison.⸃

“And if no one claims them? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that none of the kids under five have been taken for assessment. I highly doubt none of their parents have popped up dead.”

Boundary didn’t answer for a long while, content to continue wandering the halls in silence while Emilia debated kicking him. ⸂Generally…⸃ he finally began, words slow and precise, ⸂children are only picked for vocations once they are ten or so. Only in cases where a child shows extreme aptitude, or they have been orphaned, are they assessed early.⸃

“So, it’s actually a normal part of life here?” Honey had told her that, but something in the trainee’s words had read as a lie. Boundary’s, on the other hand, seemed completely genuine. “Wait, so shouldn’t the orphans of Livery have been assessed?”

⸂Yes,⸃ Boundary didn’t quite growl. ⸂The overseer of the area… greatly failed in his vocation. He will not be responsible for managing anyone again.⸃

“Himself included?”

Boundary shot her a look… probably. The man was still wearing his mask, despite the fact that she had seen no one else wearing one inside the compound. He didn’t answer her question, instead telling her that not all families allowed their children to be assessed, but most did, especially if the child did not have a passion for any particular career path.

⸂When they do wish to become something specific, it depends on the job and their connections, whether they will still need to be assessed.⸃

“So… if their family runs a restaurant, and they want to be a cook, they’re probably all good? But if their dream is to be an… overseer, they have to be assessed?”

⸂Yes.⸃

“I see, I see… so, does that mean kids like Gale, Miira and Kelly”—not to mention the missing Sawyer and several other homeless kids who had disappeared with V—“are late being assessed? Even the kids with homes weren’t handled properly?”

⸂Yes.⸃

“But you didn’t take Gale?” Kelly hadn’t been taken either, but he and Stephy were still in recovery.

Stephy had been confined to bed, her legs bound up in thick bandages and suspended awkwardly to help them heal. Her prognosis was… unknown. Broken legs were a difficult thing. They took time to heal, and her muscles would atrophy in that time. Assuming they healed properly—and given what passed for doctors here had little ability to

see

their patients insides to fully assess them, that was a big if—she’d have a long, painful road of recovery ahead.

As for Kelly… there was little to be done for him. Several sections of his arm muscle had been carved away. The system had sealed the wound, creating new skin from the aether to stop the bleeding, but the muscle was still gone—the arm, largely unusable. The preteen was taking it in stride, but for the moment, it seemed no one wanted to push him too hard. Taking him into an assessment where the first question was ⸂

So, what do you see yourself doing with your life?

⸃ was too harsh. What if he answered something that required two arms? No one wanted to risk that just yet.

⸂Gale… does not like us.⸃

“Really!” Emilia asked, feigning shock just to annoy her companion a little. To her delight, he looked her way and she could practically

feel

the glare he was giving her. “I did notice that. Something about Ash having been a Risen Guard trainee, before he touched a heartcore and gained some potentially fatal power that corrupted him and made him super, duper dangerous?”

The man’s glaring vibe intensified. Emilia smiled innocently back.

⸂Perhaps I should have a conversation with Honey about what is secret Risen Guard gossip, and what can be shared with outsiders.⸃

Emilia gasped dramatically, wishing she had a free hand to clasp just as dramatically to her chest. She didn’t and was forced to instead sag, all the life draining out of her. “And here I thought that being in a world that was not my own meant I would escape the prejudice of being a stupid silverstrain girl! Alas! Boundary still assumes I have no thoughts in my silver little head.”

⸂What is a

silverstrain?

⸃

“Eh… it’s like a genetic abnormality? Ah— Do you know what that is?”

No, Boundary did not know what those were, and for a few halls and staircases, the two of them compared notes on birth defects, the easiest comparison she could think of.

⸂There is a similar sentiment here,⸃ Boundary said, setting the little boy down as they reached the top of another set of stairs. ⸂Children who are born… wrong are often handed over to the Risen Guard to deal with. The risk that they will be unable to understand rules on safety and blood is too high for most people to risk.⸃

“And what do you guys do with those kids?”

⸂We do not kill them, if that is what you are asking,⸃ Boundary snipped, although it didn’t take a genius to hear the hesitation—the lie—in his voice, and after a long moment of Emilia death glaring him, he relented and explained it was slightly more complicated than that.

⸂Overseers manage such things. As you have seen, some are corrupt. It is a problem the higher ups have been trying to deal with, but there are hundreds of overseers, each managing dozens of cities. The situation in Livery was egregious, and from what I understand…⸃ The man hesitated for a moment, his energy rippling as he searched for something—listening ears, perhaps. ⸂The overseer of Livery was close friends with one of the higher ups. As a result, they were able to circumvent inspections and received special treatment. We are not sure how far the conspiracy goes, nor how much the higher up in question knew about the actual state of the city.⸃

“Trusting a friend versus giving them a chance to fix things and not ruin their life with their corruption versus actually not giving a shit about the terrible things they are doing~” Emilia singsonged. “Yeah, we have people like that in my world too. There are a few people I’d probably off if I got the chance, but I’m not even sure my lawyer could get me out of those repercussions.”

⸂What is a lawyer?⸃

After a quick back a forth, Emilia learned this world had no concept of lawyers. The Risen Guard managed cases, and generally if they came for you, you were already deemed guilty.

“Doesn’t that mean corruption goes undetected? If the innocent can’t ask for a more formal hearing?”

Somewhat to Emilia’s surprise, Boundary agreed.

⸂There are similar… hearings for us Risen Guard if we are accused of misconduct. It is a good system. We have a hierarchy, but for the most part, we are treated as equals. If I accuse a subordinate of misconduct, we are offered the opportunity to each defend our opinions and actions in front of a panel of seniors.⸃

“Don’t the people listening to the arguments have biases?”

⸂Yes. They try not to, but I will not argue this system is without issue. It is better than what occurs when civilians make complaints against the Risen Guard, however.⸃

“Nothing?”

⸂Or worse.⸃

“And you support this organization.”

⸂You make it sound like I or anyone else have a choice. While you can say no to joining, it is considered an honour to be chosen, shameful to refuse.⸃

Hadn’t Rin said something along those lines as well? Although, she’d excluded the shameful part. “I’m guessing you can’t quit?”

⸂No. Some manage to retire, but it is rare. Most will die in service, supplying several children to join before doing so,⸃ Boundary said, a note of resentment in his voice.

“You’re one of those children?” she asked softly—sadly.

The man nodded slightly. ⸂My parents were both powerful Risen Guard. My mother still is. My father is gone.⸃

Emilia blinked at him, hearing the note of something

more

in his

gone.

It wasn’t her place to pry, however, especially not when the man was clearly taking her on a winding walk through a seemingly abandoned section of the Risen Guard compound to give her information

someone

didn’t want her to have. Why he was giving her so much information, she had no idea. Most of it wouldn’t exactly be of use to her, and some of it she probably could have gotten from the older kids—although it was interesting that neither Honey nor Lanaira had apparently had permission to tell her what was mostly public knowledge. The information itself was also still interesting, and Emilia wasn’t about to risk learning more by asking probing questions. Better to just continue babbling and wait for him to tell her whatever information he actually wanted to tell her… or take the opportunity to trick information she wanted out of him.

“I have friends like that. Their moms are really influential, and basically everyone in their family is expected to join the organization they run—ran, now, I guess. One of their kids took over after the war ended. It isn’t exactly the nicest place.”

⸂Do they all join?⸃

“Most. One of their kids escaped, but only thanks to their brothers. Another cousin legit ran off and hasn’t been heard from since she finished her schooling. Honestly, we’re not even sure she’s still alive. No one with her description was ever listed as dead during the war, but we’d already suspected she’d fucked off to the Free Colonies, and a lot of them didn’t report their deaths quite as well as Baalphoria did. The Free Colonies are like different cities? Like the big cities you mentioned the first time we met?”

Boundary hummed in agreement, his voice catching when he realized his mistake.

“I knew it!”

Emilia hissed, glaring accusingly at her former babysitter turned attempted killer turned saviour, apparently.

⸂How did you—⸃

“Voice and body type and general quietude. And! You’re kinda a bitch,” Emilia shrugged. She hadn’t been completely positive the man was the same one who had been assigned to watch her those first few days in the raid, but there had just been too many similarities. There had also been that comment from Honey, about how Boundary had gone to train several days after the visitors arrived—not that she was going to sell out the trainee like that. Certainly, something else could have prompted the man to seek out more power, but combined with every other similarity, it was easy to consider that the loss of his charge—the loss of her—to the Enclave could have been the catalyst.

“So~ how’s your stomach?” she asked, glancing down to where she had slid her {Blood Dagger} through the man’s abs.

⸂Fine,⸃ Boundary said, and when Emilia looked back up, he was awkwardly removing his mask one-handed.

“Was that so I didn’t recognize you?”

Deep black eyes glared at her from under deep red hair.

“What? Worried I’d be upset that

someone

tried to off me.”

The man’s glare darkened, his energy bubbling out again, once more seeking out spies minds. Emilia’s energy wound after it, finding what he did: nothing. This part of the compound truly did seem completely abandoned, and there was no one around to listen to them. No one had followed them—although, perhaps there was no need. Perhaps Boundary’s superiors trusted him to be good—trusted him to report back on what they talked about, on what she knew.

Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, she was currently stuck in this place with no magic or weapons. She may never get out. The least she could do was hunt down answers to a few of her burning questions.

⸂You really are too smart for your own good,⸃ the man said, voice quiet and personal, sliding over her core.

“I’ve heard that all my life,” she whispered back, grateful for the man’s honesty—grateful for the confirmation that

something

in the Risen Guard training caused its trainees to develop a split personality.

A normal expectation—one that in Ash’s case just seemed to have gone particularly badly.