Elegy for a Star

The city of Esterville, unofficial capital of Sevarra. The rogue nation only split from the Empire a few years ago, and without a proper government established, it was more an anarchy of city-states than anything else. Lord Renault, now referred to as The Rebel King, did his best to hold them together, trying to establish organization and cooperation of the fractured cities into a union. The city was large, but it had no walls, only wooden watchtowers.

She arrived in the morning, coming in down the northern road, along the eastern side of the River Lux that supplied Esterville with copious resources. Her two swords, one strapped to her back, another upon her hip, had already been peace-tied with tightly wrapped ribbons, keeping them from being easily unsheathed.

The guards were letting entrants in rather easily, so Abigail was hopeful that things would go well for her. “Don’t recognize me,” she thought, “Don’t see me.” She considered a spell, but that would count as trespassing, as lying. She wasn’t supposed to do either.

“Wait, stop her!” A man from the watchtower called down. The two guards aimed their pikes at her and Abby held her hands up.

“I mean no harm,” Abigail sighed. This was not an unfamiliar occurrence.

“Check the blacklists! I recognize that hair!”

“I should’ve gotten it cut,” Abby thought.

After a quick check, one of the pikemen shouted in terror, “That’s.. Oh fuck, oh fuck, that’s Blackheart!”

Abby kept her hands up, “Please, I’m just Ab-..”

“I thought Amaranthe struck you down!” The other pikeman said, holding his weapon in a more threatening manner.

Abigail shook her head, “She spared me. I’m trying to find redemption for what I’ve done.”

“Fuck that,” the other watcher said, aiming a crossbow at Abigail, “You’re going to eat our fucking hearts, you gods damned monster!”.

Abigail looked up at him, “Please don’t shoot me. I don’t want any trouble, I don’t hurt people anymore.”

Images of the skewered soldier, the vivisected Wyrden and the blue-faced Fey flashed through her mind. “You are full of shit,” Abby thought, angry with herself, “You killed three people less than two days ago.” At least her numbers were improving from past days.

She said again, “Can you get Keslain Piper? He knows me.”

The soldiers all paused before one of them asked, “Lord Piper?”

He attained a Lordship, apparently. Abigail nodded her head, “Yes. Lord Piper.”

One of the soldiers trudged off through the muddy streets to go and find this requested Lord.

Abby had to wait for thirty minutes, standing there as a caravan of wagons passed by and into the city, unmolested as Abby had been. Halfway through her wait, Abigail had to ask permission to lower her hands, and it was another entire conversation before they let her.

Eventually, a number of soldiers returned, sixteen in all. Pikemen and crossbowmen. This was becoming worrisome.

In the middle of them was a man in noble’s clothing. A feather capped beret and a heavy chain about his neck implied him as being a Lord, as Abby had just learned. His iconic sneer and narrow eyes looking angrily toward Abigail gave her some alarm. “That was simply his face,” Abby told herself, “He’s not actually angry.” She sighed, adding to her thoughts, “I hope.” In truth, Keslain had always looked angry, even in his youth.

Piper was old, but he wasn’t a man to be messed with. He was sharp. The Rebel Lord wouldn’t have gotten far without his right hand man. In truth, Piper may have been the brains behind the entire operation, with Renault being the face.

“Lord Piper. I would bow, but I am afraid I would be shot,” Abby spoke sincerely.

Piper, much to her surprise, addressed her politely, “Miss Reed. I did not expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, well,” Abby responded, shrugging, “Surprise, Lord.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m trying to do some good for people. This is the most densely populated city in Sevarra. I could find a lot of work here,” Abby responded, “Amaranthe wants me to do good for others.”

“You are more likely to do quite the opposite, Miss Reed,” Piper replied, “Wanted posters for you are all around the city. If anyone learns your identity, there’s a fight that we have to deal with.”

“I’ll behave. I swear. I won’t cause fights.”

“No, but the citizens will, provoked by your presence in the city. You being here will only cause unrest and easily avoided violence. You can’t blame them for it, either,” Lord Piper replied, “Many had families in Salvation.”

“Keslain, please,” Abby replied. This wasn’t exactly expected. She and Piper used to be somewhat friendly, “At least ask around the city if anyone needs help, and I can meet them at the gate. I don’t even need to come inside.”

“No. It is bad enough that you are standing at our gates. I am going to be in a political shitstorm for not ordering you to be shot and struck down, here and now.”

Yeah, fucking try it.

“Is that your final word, Lord Piper?”

“It is,” he replied coolly.

“I’m only trying to do something right for once,” Abby said, putting on that emotionless mask, lest her rage show through. Those crossbowmen were already on a hair trigger. If she showed any anger at all, she’d have a dozen bolts headed her way.

“Do you know someplace where I might be able to find those in need that I could aid?” Abigail asked, desperate for some reason to have journeyed all this way.

“From you? No, Miss Reed,” Piper spoke, his voice rumbling with the slightest edge of anger, “I don’t believe anyone that knows who you are will want your help more than they’ll want your blood. 

You may wish to go beyond the borders where you are not as well known.

“Try the College in Hastenbourgh or the Arquebus in Rotherham. They’re always looking for help.”

Abby nodded, “I appreciate the advice, Lord Piper, but I need to repay Sevarrans for the crimes done against Sevarrans.”

“There’s only one form of repayment that this nation will accept from you, Miss Reed,” Piper spoke. 

Abigail sometimes felt the same way. This would be easier if she were just to die.

Abby nodded, “Be seeing you then, Keslain.”

“Likely not, Abigail,” Piper replied, turning and departing from the gates as the guard remained, ensuring Abigail’s departure from their gate.