Chapter-94 Ensil
Ewan sat in the guestroom, admiring the asymmetric patterns on the wall. They resembled the style of the Ashocan Kingdom—an ancient giant that existed long ago on the appointed eastern end of the Lostrax Continent, kissing the Morinfair Ocean. If the Governor inherited its legacy and this city sat above its ruins, then he was still on the same continent. The space crack at least didn’t fling him off to any extreme corner of Airadia.
There was also a lack of any advanced technology here that Obria had, the room was so and the crawling route that took all his morning declared such as well. Except for the run-down tram, the city even lacked basic conveniences. It could be deliberate, he reckoned. This was an unwalled city, which meant living with death just outside the door. The air was thick with the hint of blood when he strolled the streets, even the Kyron citizens had the aura of death lingering around them.
If developing towards a combat-oriented city was the aim, the lack of ‘peaceful’ conveniences made sense. The absence of protection from the perimeter walls would keep the citizens on edge, and the existence of outside threat would keep them united. Ewan couldn’t help but admire the Governor’s methods of reigning over others and maintaining order. The idea aside, it was the willingness to employ those ruthless methods that garnered his respect.
While the thoughts took him on a ride, a young man of about Nana’s age pushed the cotton-curtains aside and walked in. His unusual ocean-bay colored hair hung over his neck; his earring jerked with his steps.
“Hello, Ewan?” He greeted with a smile, flashing his pearly canines.
His name and details had made their way to the Ensil Villa before he did, he wondered which secret tram the information took that was faster than those corroded wheels. Ewan stood up, pushing the thought aside, and shook his hand. The man barely matched his height, a bit shorter even if not for his boots with thick soles.
“Ewan Ayres, nice to meet you Mr. Ensil,” he said. This must be the young man that Kidd told him about, who tried to shut their slave business down. Though, he didn’t seem to be the kind to piss his pants—must’ve been an exaggeration or a metaphor. Or a page of such trait hid behind his sophisticated book cover.
“Please, call me Kiev,” the young man said. “Gramps couldn’t free his hand, so he sent me to greet you instead.” He nestled on the sofa opposite Ewan and gestured for him to do the same.
“I hope I didn’t disturb you by coming unannounced,” Ewan said and took out the pouches from his inner-jacket pocket, pushing them towards the Kiev on the table. “My offering of goodwill and a gift for the first meeting, hope you accept them.”
“Not at all, not at all.” Kiev grinned and pocketed the pouches. “Have you eaten yet?” he asked.
“I had some breakfast.”
“Come with me for lunch then, I was about to head out. I’ll bring you to the best restaurant in the city.”
…..
They sat by the open window on the third floor. The restaurant towered beside the spice market, the laced breeze drifting in tormented Ewan’s nose, and he barely kept the sneeze in. Though his nose reddened as a cherry. But he was a guest, helpless against the power that controlled the city. He couldn’t be impolite and unfurl his Ryvia to keep the menace out, let alone voice his opinion and have the window closed. Especially when the scenery outside interested this ‘grandson’ of the Governor so.
The waiter took their order and Ewan turned to look at what had trapped Kiev’s attention for so long—it was indeed the ongoing slave auction at the docks.
“Are you interested in buying?” Ewan asked, sipping the chilled water to wash away the tingles in his throat. He didn’t like being nosy, it was a waste of time and effort. But the current situation nudged him to do so, after all it concerned his wellbeing in the city. He needed to integrate, and this man was his way in.
“No, just looking,” Kiev said with a smile.
“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I heard you don’t like that business.”
“Where did you hear that?” Kiev smirked and looked at Ewan.
“Sailors have nothing much to do on the ocean, the gossips go around,” Ewan said. “I hear the drunks talk a lot too.”
“What is your opinion on it?” Kiev asked.
Ewan shook his head. “Don’t have any. I don’t know or care enough to either oppose it or support it,” he said.
Kiev laughed. “Yes, most are like that,” he said. “And I’m not any different.” He looked out the window again. One man in the crowd huddled around the auction stage roared his bids one after another, defeating all buyers with opulent prices. Size, gender, race, condition, he bought them all regardless, and his throat croaked at the end. Kiev looked at him and his lips curled.
That was his man bidding for him, Ewan guessed.
“Will you release them?” he asked, looking at the number of slaves dwindling on the stage.
“Do you wish to have one?” Kiev asked.
“Not really,” Ewan said. The waiter brought all the food on a large tray and served them both. Ewan couldn’t name any of the dishes, but the aroma made him salivate. The reddish-brown gravy, the succulent chicken, and the generous dollop of butter on top—the cooked and bloomed spices didn’t hurt his senses like the raw ones, they aroused them instead.
“May I ask why though?”
Kiev smiled. “How long will you stay in the city?” he asked.
Ewan took the hint and dropped the topic before he touched a nerve he shouldn’t. “I’m planning on staying for some time. Can I trouble you for some recommendation?”
“How about that?” Kiev pointed and asked. Beyond the docks, the land curved out to meet the ocean, almost a small panhandle, rolling chains of mountains shading the area. “We have some villas up in the mountains, many foreign Ashevas like you live there. But rental isn’t possible, you’ll have to buy one if you wish to stay,” he said.
“How much would it set me back?” Ewan asked.
Kiev’s smile widened into a sly one. “If you pay with Novas coins, it’ll be cheaper.”