Dark Crow Rising

"Hey, Nin! Get your head out of the Crown. Ners is about to do his riddles. You're usually always the one to get the first few right." someone tells me as I am looking up at the city's soaring centre. Their playful jab, however, catches me off guard at the worst possible moment. The food I'm in the middle of swallowing suddenly has to compete with a gag, and I force it back down. As the pain comes to an end, I groan to my heart's content.

With tears in my eyes, my thenar finds a new use and I rub them dry.

"Uh, no, I'm not interested in Ners' riddles today." I tell him, returning my focus to the dry food on my plate. Wincing slightly at the soreness in my throat, I reach for my cup of water and take a healthy chug from it. Sighing and groaning at once, I look upwards once again. The grand clock is in the way physically and because of the light it gives off, but I can still make out the periphery of the Crown.

Today's the day, the one Iishar told me about. The festival to Thurnmourer is in full swing and for once, people seem to be enjoying themselves. But what Iishar said to me a couple of days ago bothers me still. It has basically ruined the festival for me with all these wayward thoughts.

"Seriously, what's with all the detachment recently? You were late back by a fair margin not that long ago and now it is a pain in the backside to stop you looking up!" he asks me and I just have nothing to say about it.

Getting up with my leftovers, I tune him out as I walk away. I do not see the point in easing his concerns, as we aren't friends, just work colleagues. Sighting a bin, I scoff down my leftovers and wash it down with the water. Reaching the bin, I clear the tray and leave it on top for the cleaners.

Putting my hands into the pockets of my work overalls, I leave the cafeteria and idly walk about. I steadily ease my way towards the Outer Wall whilst my brain refuses to stop repeating Iishar's words. This is the place she mentioned. This wall we are supposedly not allowed to go through normally.

"Seed of curiosity, why'd you become a tree?" I mutter to myself as I go around one of the curved corners of a tower. Unlike the last few times I have wandered this way, though, there are people here who are not security. There are dozens of fellow grounders here alone. The real eye-catcher, however, is the goldhands amongst the regular guards of the lower floors.

If they are here, right down here at the very bottom of the city, then Iishar is most certainly down here, too. I can't see her, admittedly, but with how big the crowd of workers and guards is, I'm not surprised. What does surprise me, however, is the large, imposing convoy of vehicles that line the space beyond the crowd. A mixture of gigantic half-track hauliers fitted for all kinds of loads.

Some of which seem to be mobile apartment units...

But, I want to see her again, talk to her again. Admittedly, I have been doing more than just thinking about her words, as she is the most beautiful woman I have ever met. Moving around the edges of the crowd, I hop up onto a makeshift, rickety platform. I hope she recognises me...

Whatever the reason for this desire, I understand one thing easily. She spoke of a chance to ascend out of this sweatshop we of the lower floors experience. It does not match the 'hard work makes the dream work' mindset the city has. But, Spire-Lord Iishar Ho doesn't fit the mould either, by the looks of it.

"Alright! Alright! Step forward when your names are called, first-"

"Mmm." I let out as my curiosity and the shrinking crowd drives me forward. Everyone else is moving ahead as their names get called out. But I'm immobile. My name hasn't come up. She forgot about me?

It's only been two days since I met her, so I want to believe that I am just at the end of the list. Yet, here I am, standing idly about as the last few people get called forwards to head on up and into the hauliers. A final chance appears and I spot Iishar, the woman I can't stop thinking about. She speaks to a goldhand at first, but, looking my way, our gazes meet.

She stands there and stares. Is she trying to remember who I am? I get and know that being a spire-lord is busy work, so maybe I should say my name for her convenience. Am I allowed to do that, though? No one seems to care about the usual code of conduct at the moment, but still...

Stepping closer, her expression edges on a smile, "Hello again... Nin? I see you have accepted my offer. I'm glad you have."

"I... I don't actually know if I have." I admit, sighing as my head turns away. Why did I come here if I was just going to say that...?

"Well, you're here now, so please, come." she shepherds as her arm comes around and orbits my back. My nerves are a mess right now. A beautiful woman is this close to me, but she is as imposing as anyone can be, really. Plenty of goldhands to call upon if she needs to.

Though, seeing that ebon holster of hers and the handgun within it, I doubt she'd need to call them. It's not like I can pin her down and stop her from using it. She's strong, very strong, stronger than she has any right being. She must have it for whatever is out there in the wastes...

"Should I..." I start to ask before a goldhand comes over to whisper something. She pushes me ahead for privacy, but I am slow about it. She starts to get visibly agitated and I come to a stop. However, it seems it is only to do with what is being whispered to her.

"Then grab it and let's get going already," she orders before the kind smile returns along with the me-centred gaze.

"S-Should I join the others?" I ask as I notice that the last of them are disappearing into the hauliers behind us.

"No, it is fine if you share a haulier with me. Besides, I seem to have overestimated the amount of room these things have. Somehow. Or, I talked to too many people, rather." she explains as she guides me to the foremost one of the lot. Stopping at the ladder, I look at the other hauliers. One of them is unique in the fact it has a massive tank on its cargo pad.

Do we really need that much water, presuming it is water in there?

"I feel small." I remark as I place my hand on the lowest bar of the ladder. This is going to be quite the trip up. It makes me wonder why they haven't wheeled in some mobile stairs, actually. Looking back at Iishar, she smiles and motions her hand up.

"Come on, up you go. Take the edge seat," she explains and I start to climb up into the vehicle. Clinging on tightly, I make sure my feet are properly on the steps before going up to the next one. Reaching the thankfully open door, I heave myself up onto the first seat. I whistle at the effort I just underwent and sit down properly.

"Never thought I would ever feel taller sitting down." I quip awkwardly with my gaze switching back and forth between the glass and the goldhand driver. Thankfully, there's quite a bit here to distract me from that man's gaze. Leaning into my chair fully, I listen to and feel the growling engine with a smile. I may be a wall-engraver, but I appreciate the quality mechanical work.

It's as big as a small building and it probably has the strength to tear one down once hooked up! As I think about the machine, however, Iishar finishes coming up the ladder. I meet her gaze and smile and it makes me uncomfortable. That expression is teasing me.

"No touching." she coos as she leans forward to grab the handles above me. Pulling herself up, she monkey bars her way over me and drops onto the seat next to me. She looks at me as my face burns up and she laughs to her heart's content. These hauliers are carrying big loads, she is certainly as well...

Closing the haulier's door, I keep my eyes looking left, towards it. Her smirk is annoying, but I don't hate it, it just makes me embarrassed. It's easier to keep my focus on the seemingly tiny guards outside. But, with how they are acting, it must be nearly time to get going.

"ALL VEHICLES SECURED, OPEN THE GATE!" the guard I am watching shouts with all the strength he can muster and the hauliers roar collectively in unison. The massage-like sensation I was feeling just a moment ago is replaced by aggressive, bumpy vibrations. The thick, heavy metal doors of the Outer Wall open. With how noisy the hauliers are, I can't tell if the gate is particularly noisy either.

Ear defenders would be nice about now, though...

But, it's hard to focus on the noisy machinery for long. As, as the doors open up, light comes through. This isn't light attached to Tobaballe's power grid, it's natural light. Daylight, divine light, the light of the Orbital-Halo, it doesn't matter what I call it. This is actual light!

"Make sure to not enjoy this sight too much, Nin. Soon, you and everyone else here will be on their way to seeing it very soon for the rest of their lives." Iishar explains as we start to roll through the great gap.

"What the..." I let out, completely perplexed by what I see. The area outside the Outer Wall isn't wasteland at all, at least, not the immediate area. This space seems to be quite successful farmland. I am willing to bet it feels nice working out here rather than in the city's depths.

Orbital-Halo's light in your hair and a field of crops to pick away at, at your own, dedicated pace. It must be wonderful being outside compared to being in some tight hallway. I'm proud of the work I have done as a wall-engraver, admittedly, but it's a harsh job on the ground. Few places to rest and most water is unsafe, but here, you can find a bale to sit on and irrigation water to splash yourself with.

To my surprise, though, there are no people out here on this farmland, well, not many, rather. Instead, all I can see are these strange things that look near enough to people. But, they have long, furry tails and a pair of upward-going ears. They're not humans, but they are close enough to justify clothes and land that isn't pasture.

"What are these things?" I ask as we roll by a few as they scythe down what looks like oats or wheat. However, looking closer, they seem to have it quite rough, contrary to my prior thoughts. They all look tired and beaten, and the guards are certainly well-armed for being out on thick walled farmland. I get that pests are a problem, but this seems like a step too far.

They look as if they are being starved as well... A cruel irony indeed.

"Do not worry, Nin. They are refugees from the wastelands, beyond the actual Outer Walls. They are taken care of," Iishar tells me as she notices my expression. Taking her word for it, I just nod. I have no idea how it works out here. I've only just found out there's farmland.

But, if they are refugees, why didn't they just let them into Tobaballe or beyond if we do not have the room?

"That one there seems to be having it rough from you..." I point out as we go by one being extracted by goldhands, of all things. They throw the long, reddish-haired creature into a cage on a small buggy-like vehicle and it drives to our front. Whatever is going on, a specific group of these creatures are acting up. The guards keep them in line, though.

I try to find some amusement in its hair colour. The heated tone of the situation and its temperament at least match the hair. Eventually, I return my focus to Iishar. She's the one who knows what's going on out here, and I'd rather not talk to the goldhand driver.

"They're no different from those of the lower floors like you, Nin. Not all are well-behaved and some are violent in their demands for more. And, it isn't helped by the fact that they have come from a rough land. Simple as it seems, we are asking a lot of them to settle into a peaceful life. As you can see here, we take the troublemakers away and have them work it out by serving as guides."

"Guiding from a tightly knit cage?" I ask, raising my brow.

"They like to spit in people's ears," she tells me with a sudden shiver.

"Now why would they do that...?" I ask, completely baffled by the claim.

"We honestly have no idea. It might be a greeting for them as they like to look after their ears. Well, I assume greeting as it is what they do before they properly begin to speak to you."

"Properly speak?" I ask as I find her phrasing peculiar.

"Mostly growls, squeals and squeaks before the spit goes flying. They don't spit in each ear more than once though, so it might just be to mark down familiar faces with a scent."

"I guess I'll have to wait and see..." I say, even though I hope not to see it happen.

"I don't recommend waiting for such a thing." she tells me, shivering once again.

"You know, you still didn't answer my question." I remind her.

"Sorry, can you repeat it for me?"

"What are these things? Their name and that." I reiterate to her as I cover one of my ears and think about what else she has just said.

"Not an official one given to us by them, no. But, one of my fellow Spire-Lord's has taken to calling them by the pet name of 'floof' because of who knows why and it just caught on." she explains, with some degree of distaste.

"I guess I can see why." I comment as stare at the caged one again, focusing on their tail. It's in a bad, shoddy state at the moment, but, with proper care, I can see it being soft and fluffy. Unlike their spitting habits, I would like to see that. Maybe even touch it, maybe.

"Now, as we approach the real Outer Walls, Nin. You'll understand why it is better for them to be in here." she explains as she places one arm across her belly while the other lingers near her mouth.

"I think I can see it from here." I say as we rumble through and under the final wall. Curiously enough, the actual Outer Wall is thinner and less impressive than the... Inner-Outer Wall?

"It is important for us to have someone who has travelled these lands before, Nin. As you can plainly see," Iishar says to me as I frown at all the still gravel.

"There's nothing out here..." I comment.

"Rather fittingly for the time of year, there is," she corrects, smirking.

"Wait, what do you mean by that?" I ask, looking at her mischievous expression. She's certainly piqued my interest.

"Wait and see, I want to see how you react when we get there," she tells me, growing the smirk.

"Come on... Don't play these games." I beg of her as the buggy makes a turn, which the hauliers follow.