Below the Heavens [Trad Epic High Fantasy]

Chapter 94: Hopes and Dreams



Humans are addicted to hope.

Even drugs pale in comparison to this distilled addiction.

The Gods, in their infinite cruelty, inflicted it upon us an emotional response to reality.

Addicts, too, hope for that which they once experienced and can no longer have.

"Perhaps tomorrow is different."

"Mayhaps next time will be better."

Chasing hope.

And now we cannot live without it.

Such is human life.

— Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor

Lower Tiers, Oasis

I won't turn you in, but you can't stay here. And you should go see your mother.

Anya's words echoed through Aliyah's mind as she skulked through the back alleys of the Tyanifar District. Somehow, this was the one time she was not grateful that the new Steward Ryu had cracked down on District Managers diverting monetary funds away from repairs and maintenance; the alchemy stones actually worked for the first time in a decade, and Aliyah could not be certain if anyone here still remembered her face.

Her hair was an oily mess, and she was certain she still smelled of sewage. Anya's nose had certainly stayed wrinkled for most of the time they were conversing. When Aliyah ducked down a worn set of stairs into the backway of her mother's restaurant, she could only hope that the smell wouldn't linger long enough to deter any customers in the morning. Kaylah's Skillet was a staple of the district, and

She reached the latched door in the dark, feeling for the second hinge from the bottom. Wiggling out the nail enabled Aliyah to use the serrated tip, designed to perfectly fit the lock. A backup in case any of them ever got locked out or lost their keys, and she was glad her mother hadn't changed it.

The unexpected creak of the door shot panic up her spine; Aliyah slipped inside and closed the door with a wince in the hopes none of the neighbors could hear. The hurried movement connected her foot into something with a long handle – a broom, or a sweep – sending it clattering to the floor.

Aliyah forcibly slowed her breathing, feeling her heart pound in her throat. Something moved above; the ceiling creaked, and a solitary light shone down the stairs.

"Who's there?" called out her mother's voice. Even in a situation where others would be afraid, her mother Kaylah did not betray a hint of fear. "I'm warning you bucket-wits; all three of my children are spear wielders ah. If you're a sweat thief my daughters will drain your blood just like the old ways. And I better not hear anything about the debt because it's not even the end of Summer's Warmth ah. Or if you're from the Stewards, there's nothing more I can tell you dry-ears and snooping through my kitchen isn't going to suddenly —"

"Amma! It's me." Aliyah's callout seemed foreign to even her own ears. She swallowed, then repeated herself. "Amma. It's Aliyah."

Footsteps came down, swift. A soft lightstone shone in her mother's hand as she ducked under to see, holding the stone in such a way that the light only shone forward. Aliyah squinted at the offending light, but did not cover her face.

"Aliyah. By the Gods," her mother gasped, then ran all the way down the stairs and came forward to wrap Aliyah into a tight hug. Her mother's familiar drawl, the one she reserved for friends and family, resurfaced. "Where have you been, you Oven-baked fool ah? Are you alright? Hurt anywhere? Did you get into krysleaf ah? The Stewards came looking for you after Ayden was taken into custody, and then–" her mother sniffed, scrunching up her face. She peered at Aliyah. The knotted hands, hardened through years of hard work and hot oils, were gentle with their touch. "Dear Gods, you stink like a camel born in the sewage. What did you get into, young woman? Frolicking in the water recycling areas as usual ah?"

"I'm not a child anymore, Amma," Aliyah protested her mother's nagging. Somehow, the woman's grip seemed as strong as she always remembered as a little girl. Amazing, considering her mother had never trained in auramancy.

"Well you need a proper bath," her mother declared, motioning to two lamps hanging from the ceiling. The lightstones within came aglow at a barked command. "Can't have you stinking up my restaurant to high heaven, people eat here. Gods willing, you're in luck; I was treating myself to a proper water bath just before bedtime. You'll ruin the water but we'll sell it to those run-off lickers in the fields. Come along now, chop chop."

Aliyah found herself being led along obediently, almost in a trance. The past two weeks had seemed almost forever, yet now they were just a condensed blur in her memory. Had that really been her, crawling through the sewers? In between her grief and disorientation, she'd dug through trash and stolen from people. And now, she was being led upstairs by her mother, feeling almost giddily like she was a little girl again.

Wait. A nagging voice wormed its way through her haze, and Aliyah planted a foot into the ground. Wait. Remember what you just heard.

"What's wrong?" her mother asked, turning around. Aliyah saw her curls and her brother's eyes in their Amma, but only their older sister had Amma's sharper voice and iron temperament. The only thing the children had over their Amma was height. "You need me to pick you up now? Aren't you pushing twenty-eight Sorrows?"

"No," answered Aliyah, her hand gripping around her mother's wrist, anchoring her thumb against the light pulse. "Aren't you going to turn me in?"

Her mother's pulse shot up, then immediately dropped back down as she frowned at Aliyah. "You're my daughter. Sweatsucker you are, but I'm not turning you in."

The pulse is stable. But it wasn't everything. Aliyah couldn't believe what she was doing as she stared down her mother's eyes, searching for any hint of falsehood. "Which Steward had spoken to you? Steward Ryu? Steward Jyori? Steward Clayton?"

The Steward of the Lower Tiers was new, but Aliyah and Ayden had shared a vague sense of approval for her, young as she was. As for the other two, Aliyah could only pray she never encountered either of them. Particularly Steward Clayton; she did not want to experience a punishment similar to the one the Upper Tiers had given Luyi the Lazy.

Her mother affixed her with Kaylah's trademark stare, one known in the District as You eat you pay you go away. "Both Stewards Jyori and Ryu met with me, but I'm not selling my daughter out to any of them. Not for any amount of salt and water, and certainly not to that wet-eyed hussy of a Steward. You'd think the Middle Tiers could do better, but those drip-born somehow kept in a dry-lipped Steward who don't remember nothin' about what it means to have been a Sun-dried turd." Kaylah sniffed, then wrinkled her nose. "And you wouldn't be worth anything, smelling like this. Forget entertaining a man — you could charm a swarm of dung-flies right now, but I doubt they'd stick around once they got past your stench. Now are ya done wagging tongues with me or are you just stubborn about an actual bath?"

"I'm not being stubborn," Aliyah protested as she allowed her mother to drag her to the bathroom, pushing aside a curtain. Amma never stopped being a mother.

Her mother gestured on a lightstone. It illuminated the small bathroom and a small wooden tub filled two-thirds with the used remnants of her mother's previous bath. She must have saved up for at least four days to allow herself such a luxury.

Aliyah paused again as another memory jabbed insistently inside her skull.

"Wait, Amma," said Aliyah as she felt rising indignation surge through her haze. "Did you just imply the only thing worth knowing about me is how I smell?"

Kaylah tsk'd disapprovingly as she dragged Aliyah into the bathroom. "Why are you making me repeat myself again at this age, I thought you grew out of that ah? They all tell me, 'Kaylah, you will miss your kids when they grow up' but I am still waiting for my children to grow up. Like waiting for a stone to weep water, ah?"

She tsk'd again, then snapped her fingers at Aliyah. "Clothes." She clucked her tongue in frustration at how slow Aliyah seemed to respond. "Off. Now. Must you make an old lady do everything?"

"Um," Aliyah blinked, unsure if her question was ever answered. Was her mother trying to bond with her again right now? "Wait, Amma. I'm a grown woman. This is a bath, I can —"

"Drown yourself? I agree, looking sleepy like that," her mother cocked her head to the side, then tutted under her breath. "Get in, I'll at least wash your hair for you before I need to do prep work for the day. That stink better not linger in my hands now ah."

There always came a moment when arguing with one's parents that one eventually thought it might just be faster (and easier) to give in, and Aliyah decided this was one such moment. Truth be told, she wanted that bath. Moreover, it didn't seem like the right time to be shoving her mother out if the woman insisted on staying… and her mother always gave such good scalp massages, right?

Aliyah soon found herself lowering her naked body into the water. She was clinging to a bar of soap.

Mother almost never gave them soap.

She must have stank.

Kaylah crouched behind her, sleeves rolled up, skirts hitched above her knees, and dunked a wide wooden bowl into the water with one hand. She poured it slowly over Aliyah's head, letting the water cascade drench her scalp, trail past her ears, and run down her back in ripples.

"So, are you going to tell me, ah?" her mother said conversationally. She gathered Aliyah's thick curls with both hands and bunched them together, dunking another bowl of water over her scalp. "Why did you and Ayden get yourselves into this mess?"

"Ayden," she gasped, startling her mother with a sudden jerk of her head. Coming home had somehow, temporarily, overcome all the worries and anxiety, but hearing her brother's name caused everything to surge back in intensity.

The pain of loss. The empty realization she would never speak to him again.

She thought she'd processed it in the time she spent skulking through the sewers and digging through back alleys, but the pain had only been pushed down. Covered over with the need to survive.

"Amma…" Aliyah began slowly, not sure what to do. What to even say to her mother. "Ayden and I… we…"

"You broke into a reservoir." Her mother stated, pouring another bowl of water over Aliyah. "And now the ones who control water are unhappy. The one thing I've always told you not to do. But when does anyone ever listen to their mother, ah? Did I make a mistake telling you about your grandfather?"

"What?" Aliyah sputtered, wiping the water from her eyes. "No! In fact, doesn't that mean we listened to your stories?"

"Listened to the wrong thing then, ah? I told you about Luyi the Lazy because I did not want you to become like him," her mother grabbed Aliyah's head and began scrubbing her down. "I lived my life trying to distance myself from his mistakes. Lyka sold her life to our Lord to give you and Ayden a chance to enter the Spears. And now what? You make the same mistake."

Aliyah had enough experience to hear a lecture when it was coming, but she couldn't just stay silent. "It's not a mistake. Grandpa was definitely thinking about–"

Her mother pulled her earlobe. "You've never even met your grandfather, what do you know ah?"

"But we all hear stories!" Aliyah protested again. "You think we hear stories and don't ask more questions? Do you really think someone who is truly lazy would find the time or energy to break into a reservoir? Everyone knows the truth, Amma! They lied because they wanted to–"

A firm slap silenced Aliyah. Her right ear rang and her cheek stung, but she could only focus as her mother got up and walked around to face her, fury in her eyes.

"Have I never taught you to be quiet about things you shouldn't say, ah?" her mother said coldly. "Sickness enters through the mouth, and problems come out of it. Learn to be quiet."

"We're not like you, Amma.," Aliyah whispered. "Ayden might be dead, but he and I, we thought –"

Her mother held up a hand. "What? How is Ayden dead? What makes you think so ah?"

"I… I saw…" Aliyah tried to speak, but her voice cracked and wavered. She sucked in a breath, steeling herself, but it was no use. Her lips trembled as the memory of what happened in the reservoir slammed into her all at once. "We didn't think the raid would go wrong."

The words came out thin, almost apologetic, as though she was trying to convince herself it had all made sense at the time. But then her eyes widened, the dam broke, and everything came tumbling out.

"Of all days—of all days—the SpearMarshal came to check?" Her voice pitched higher with each word. "Why that day? Why her?" She shook her head, hands fisting against her thighs. "There wasn't even anything. That reservoir is almost empty! We couldn't have taken much if we wanted, and we would have been gone. WellWardyn would barely have noticed the amount we would take."

Her breathing grew ragged. "Troy… Tyson… Yelena… they—" her vision blurred, but she refused to blink the tears away. "They didn't even get a chance. Tyson's body was—" She gagged, choking on the memory, then coughed and gasped again. "And then… and then…"

She squeezed her eyes shut and clutched her head as if trying to stop the scenes from playing behind her eyes.

"... Ayden pushed me back." Her voice broke. "He held me behind the shield. Wouldn't let me through. He knew — he knew — what was coming and he still —" Her chest heaved. "And she… she killed him. The SpearMarshal killed him while I was still screaming his name."

Aliyah's body rocked forward, her hands pressed against her face, muffling a sob that still echoed in the room like a thunderclap. "He locked me out. He locked me out and all I could do was watch."

Then she went still. Her hands fell to her lap, palms open, trembling. Her voice, when it came, was hollow. "I should've stayed. I should've fought. Maybe if I had been stronger… if I had just been better..."

"You silly ah," her mother's voice pierced through her fog. "Ayden would laugh at you like this. I saw him yesterday."

Aliyah looked up, bleary-eyed and bewildered. "What?"

Her mother tsk'd, wagging a finger at Aliyah. "The SpearMarshal did not kill him, but they caught him. I bring him food every day, so I see him. Steward Jyori said a mother should be able to do that so long as I cooperate. Bless her water." She squatted down so she was eye-level with Aliyah. "You silly girl, did you not realize when the Stewards came to visit? They came, ah, then they asked questions. So many questions. But your Amma has never done anything wrong. Just as I promised our Lord when he told me a daughter does not carry her father's sins. Haven't I always said: We do no wrong, and we get to live, ah?"

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Conflicting feelings warred within Aliyah. Relief came first — Ayden was alive. Of course. She hadn't seen him die, not really. But then... the SpearMarshal rarely spared anyone. Maybe the Titled One had made an exception for a raider.

But the second feeling overwhelmed her: fury.

We do no wrong, and we get to live.

Her mother's mantra. Preached like scripture throughout their childhoods. Back then, it seemed a rule of survival. Now, it just sounded like submission. A lie passed down from the forgiven daughter of Luyi the Lazy.

"You mean this?" Aliyah scoffed aloud, washing herself with a force that made the lukewarm bath water ripple. "We do no wrong, and this is what we get? Life?" She stared down at the grime-streaked water. "When Ayden and I visited the Middle Tiers, no one had to ration their bathwater. Is this your idea of living?"

Her mother didn't respond immediately. Then, coldly: "You're starting to sound like Lyka."

Aliyah looked up. Her Amma stood now, face unreadable. That look—the one that meant I'm done explaining myself. "I'm sure you can scrub yourself clean then. We'll talk later. This conversation is over."

"What, so you can run away again?" Aliyah snapped, voice rising. "Pretend everything's fine while we rot in the Lower Tiers?"

Her mother turned her back. Aliyah couldn't stop herself.

"You think running a restaurant and bowing to the Stewards is noble? That keeping your skirts clean makes up for Luyi's sins? Meanwhile, we beg for water while the Upper Tiers bathe in it. You've seen it! You live here. Doesn't it make you angry?"

Her Amma paused in the doorway.

Aliyah surged to her feet, water sloshing around her. "When will it 'trickle down,' Amma? Like they promised?"

"You should listen to your mother," Amma said quietly. "Instead of being hard-headed."

"And then what? Crawl through life pretending things are fair?" Aliyah's voice cracked. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe all three of your children went against your wishes because you're the one who gave up? Maybe we care more than you do. Maybe you like living like this. Hiking up your skirts for the debtors when—"

The stone bowl struck her before she finished the sentence, crashing into her arm before falling down into the water and sinking to the floor of the tub.

Aliyah froze. Her mother was shaking.

"Because I want you to live!" Her mother shouted. "To be alive, do you hear me?! I am your mother, you camel-brained fool!"

Her voice trembled now, each word burning with old fear. "You and Ayden—always listening to Lyka's stories, always dreaming of the Middle Tiers. Thinking you can bring that down here. But you can't! You can't! You going up there was a good thing, but why didn't you stay?! Stop trying to change the Lower Tiers; they won't let you! I need you to grow up." She forced the words through clenched teeth. "We can't change the things that won't be changed, ah?"

Her voice broke. "My father died fighting for change. So did his friends. I survived because I wasn't involved, but they made me watch, Aliyah. You understand? They made me watch Luyi's punishment, and I'd be damned if I ever let that happen to my children!" She took a breath, shuddering, then added, "So… please. Just listen to your Amma. You've got air between your ears and fire in your chest—useless both ways. Please give up on these stupid things like taking water from the banks and sharing it with the Lower Tiers. It won't work ah. I can plead with the Stewards that since nothing was taken, Ayden can serve out some time and be let go. But you need to let me handle things."

Aliyah stared, stunned—but only for a moment. Her mother's trembling words hit something deep, but they didn't uproot the storm still roaring inside her.

"No," she said quietly. The bathwater stilled around her. "You survived. I get it. You watched your father die. You watched them humiliate Luyi. And you think that's proof we can't fight. But that's just what they want us to believe." She clenched her dripping fists. "But I think it proves the opposite. I think they were afraid of him. That's why they made you watch. That's why they gave him that mocking Title. To make sure the rest of us stayed small."

Her mother shook her head, eyes already glistening again. "You're still a child—"

"Then let me grow up!" Aliyah snapped, stepping forward. "Let me try. You keep saying I don't understand, but you're the one who doesn't see it, Amma! The world you want me to survive in doesn't exist anymore. The Upper and Middle Tiers don't care how loyally obedient we are, don't you see that? They don't reward quiet obedience—they just take. They take and take, and then when we have no more left to give, they take even more! And I'm supposed to do the same thing you did, bargain for scraps?"

Aliyah's voice cracked now, but she pressed on, each word laced with something raw and bright and angry. "We've rationed, recycled, obeyed every rule. Even as a soldier of the spear wielders, they give us droplets and cups! All in the name of efficiency, so those at the top can have more and more. But it never ends! The takers are never satisfied! We gave them our obedience, we gave them our water, we gave them our lives! What did that ever get us?"

"Alive!" her mother shrieked. "It kept us alive! Do you think I haven't asked the same questions? Do you think I enjoy any of this ah? You think I like entertaining the collectors at night when I know my children could hear?! You're a young girl with barely an idea of how the world works, lecturing your mother on how the world should be. Humiliation is a small price to pay for the cruelty they could do to us! It. Could. Be. Worse!"

"That's what they want us to believe to keep us down!" Aliyah screamed back. "It could be better!"

Her mother's hand raised up, palm open. Aliyah almost flinched again, bracing herself for the oncoming slap.

It never came. Her Amma lowered her hand, breathing heavy, face flushed. "You should learn to be happy with the things you have, not dream of the things beyond your reach ah. Being alive is a blessing in itself."

Aliyah's throat tightened. For a second, there was only the sound of water dripping from her body into the silence between them. Then she spoke again, softer now, but firmer. "Those without dreams talk about how the world is. Those with vision talk about how the world could be." Aliyah wasn't well-read, but most children had read the Red Emperor's Meditations, and it was her favorite quote. "What's the point of being alive if we're not allowed to live?"

A flicker of pain crossed her Amma's face. "You don't understand," she whispered. "You don't understand, silly child. The world doesn't change because you want it to ah. The Gods don't care if your heart breaks when others squeeze it for water. Lyka may never come back and Ayden is already in a difficult situation, so please just listen to your mother for once ah? Please… there's nothing wrong with learning how to cook and work the kitchen with me. We can make a good living here. Mother and daughter, ah?"

Aliyah stepped out of the tub, water sluicing down her legs, body trembling with something between defiance and grief. She bent, picked up the stone bowl her mother had thrown earlier, and set it gently on a nearby table. Her voice shifted quiet so as to not upset anyone, least of all herself.

"I remember running these streets as a little girl being told that better times are coming. That water must trickle down. Now that I'm older, I see it's not happening without help. The new Steward seems to be trying, but we both know that even Steward Ryu can't touch the water that's kept out of her reach. We need something else; something that doesn't rely on the systemic rules meant to keep us down."

She almost ended it there, but then took a breath and added, "You gave me my life, Amma, and I'll forever be grateful you raised us as a single woman just trying to survive. Lyka, Ayden, and I… we're always happy you never took it out on us because of the circumstances in which you had us. I'm a woman now too; I understand what you must have felt whenever you looked at us. But my life should be mine to do with as I please."

Her mother's face went dark, but seemed to be restrained. "Stubborn as a camel in the end, but what am I to do ah? You're a grown woman now." She pointed to a nearby towel. "Dry yourself before you get sick. I should have some clothes that fit you."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked briskly out of the room, her sandals clacking against the tile in quick, nervous beats. The curtain parted and fell back behind her with a whisper.

Aliyah didn't move at first. Her chest ached. Not from cold. Not from grief. It ached from the terrible clarity that her mother wasn't an obstacle, no. Amma was the one who needed saving. The slow erosion of hope had been drained from her just as the higher Tiers took everything else. The Red Emperor may have called hope an addiction, but how could people live without it? It would be better than the way her mother kept her style of walking, shrinking her shoulders so she wouldn't be noticed – and in turn, wouldn't be harmed.

Despair had taught Kaylah to believe surviving was winning, and it sickened Aliyah to see her own mother this way.

Aliyah dried herself and wrapped the towel around her frame, then took to mopping up the floor from what she had dripped. After she finished, she sat on the rim of the tub, fishing within for the stone bowl. She recognized it. Ayden had been forced to learn pottery once, and this was his first gift to their Amma. It had cracked, but that was fine. She was sure Ayden could fix it when they resolved everything again.

No more scraps, she told herself. She would free Ayden, and they'd come up with something new. WellWardyn's reservoir was empty, but that was something in itself, wasn't it? Steward Ryu must be interested in knowing that. The Steward might even reward her handsomely for such information.

Aliyah would return her brother, and with water. A real amount of water. Not just droplets or pity or charity. Enough to bathe her Amma's tired hands, to clean the kitchen floors until they gleamed, to fill the pots without counting every cup. Enough for them to stop flinching at the sound of leaky faucets and more.

Amma will drink first, Aliyah promised herself, biting the inside of her cheek. She'll drink first, and then she'll finally see that we're right. That we don't have to live this way, and that those with vision can —

Glass exploded inward, shards scattering across the floor. Aliyah jolted upright, heart pounding, as two Spears kicked their way through the wreckage. She looked around the bathroom; she snatched a mop. It and the stone bowl was all she had.

One of the two men dropped in, cursing as he seemed to be cut on the edge of some glass. "I had my doubts about hiring an alchemist to draw a perimeter here, but they say never complain about something that works," said the man as he sucked on a bleeding finger. He was thin and wiry, but Aliyah recognized his smooth skin and voice. A top ranking soldier of the Spear regiment. "Aliyah, right? Steward Jyori has been looking for you. Breaking into a reservoir — didn't your mamma teach you better than to become a water thief?"

Aliyah stood as tall as she could, feeling naked under the towel. She gripped the mop's handle, seeing the gleaming speartip leveraged at her. "This is the Lower Tiers," she said, voice steady despite her racing heart. Was there even a chance for her to talk this out peacefully? Her aura reserves weren't fully replenished given her lack of rest the past few days. Moreover, a mop could hardly be effective no matter how much aura she channeled through it; the base material was far too easily shattered. "Steward Jyori has no authority to act here without Steward Ryu's permission."

The spearman chuckled, tilting his head to the side. "Hoy, ya hear that Hayder?" The second man dropped in, heavier, bald, broad-chested. He dragged his spear behind him, scraping it deliberately against the tile. "The water thief wants to talk about the law."

"Matters not what she says, our orders are clear." The man named Hayder brushed bits of glass off his sleeve, turning to his partner. "You got the manacles, Yabbor? Bring 'em out."

"I got them, I do," the man named Yabbor said, reaching behind his back to pull out a chain. His spear lashed out at that same moment. Aliyah almost missed its movements, dodging at the very last moment when reflex jolted through her limbs. Hayder advanced. She planted her feet and whipped the mop in a wide arc. The wet, grimy strands caught the light as they bloomed outward, slapping across Hayder's face. He recoiled with a curse, arm raised. She rushed in.

Yabbor's chain hissed through the air. Aliyah dropped low, the links snapping just above her head. A spear thrust followed, fast and clean. She batted it aside with the mop's handle, barely holding her ground. They had brought short spears, but were still too long to wield correctly in the bathroom's tight space. Her mop was little better, trading reach for a more maneuverable tip.

She surged forward and jammed the mop into Yabbor's ribs. The impact drove him back a step.

Hayder snarled and brought his spear down in a heavy overhead swing. Aliyah couldn't dodge cleanly. She leaned into the strike, teeth clenching as the wooden haft cracked against her shoulder. Pain flared white-hot.

Aliyah staggered back, vision swimming, and spotted the tub. One chance.

She barreled into it, channeling all of her aura into her legs as she heaved. The tub of water tilted — a hurried and cursing Hayder scrambled to get out of its way — then a chain wrapped itself around Aliyah's ankle.

The chain snapped tight. The tugging was instant and merciless. Her leg jerked out from under her. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of pain shooting up her knee. Aliyah's fingers clawed for the mop. A shadow loomed. Found the mop. Just in time.

She pulled it over her body to redirect Yabbor's downward stab. But while it missed her torso, the redirected movement went elsewhere. The point bit into her flesh with a sickening crunch, just below the collarbone. Her breath hitched. Hot blood bloomed. She clenched her jaw, choking back a scream.

Don't lose focus in a fight. It's just pain.

She grit her teeth, pain flaring as she hooked her heel behind Yabbor's knee and yanked. He dropped with a grunt—just enough for her to twist free. Her hand clamped the spear still lodged in her chest. One pull. One cry. She wrenched it free and shoved upward, forcing the tip toward the charging Hayder like a baited trap.

The man did not hesitate; he shifted his angle of attack, lunging forward to stab downwards. The repositioning turned his back towards where Aliyah had swung her mop into his blindspot; the mophead smashed into Hayder's head with a resounding crack. He went down, and Aliyah howled in pain.

Yabbor had yanked his spear free to stab through her foot.

"You're not going anywhere, water thief," he hissed, face close, lips curled. She could not respond, such was the pain. He twisted the haft and the speartip dug deeper into her flesh. Aliyah cried out; her foot burned at each movement, disrupting her focus no matter what she did, making it impossible for her to collect her aura. "There's four more coming anyhow, and without any footwork you won't get —"

Pang.

A ringing thud. Yabbor staggered, eyes closed, clutching his head. Aliyah barely saw through her tears: Her mother, frying pan in hand, shoulders heaving with exertion.

Yabbor struggled to voice a sentence. "You… woman, you… Steward Jyori wouldn't…"

Then he crumpled to the ground.

Aliyah grunted in pain when her mother yanked the spear out of her foot.

"Can you move?" her mother asked, helping Aliyah up.

"I'm alive," Aliyah hissed as she touched her foot. The speartip had gone straight through the flesh, but had not injured the bone. "I'll need to get the wound cleaned and find a healer soon."

"There's no time ah." A set of clothes were tossed at her. "Put those on so you can go."

"What?"

Her mother tsk'd. "Did he hit your head too? That man said four more were coming ah. You want to be here then, you dim-witted girl?"

The words pushed through her fog of pain. "But…" Aliyah winced at the pain in her foot. "Where would I even go? I can't just leave you here."

Her mother half-dragged, half-coaxed her onto a seat, then began helping Aliyah get dressed. "Turn yourself in to our Steward Ryu. Our Steward was unhappy about Steward Jyori taking custody of your brother Ayden, ah? Tell her about Steward Jyori's actions in the Lower Tiers. She's fairer than the others. Look at me, Aliyah."

Her Amma's gnarled fingers gripped Aliyah's chin. Aliyah was still trying to comprehend the two Spears on her mother's bathroom floor, or the fact that her mother was telling her to surrender to Steward Ryu. I'm branded as a water thief, the thought ran through her mind. Sharp, jagged pain kept coursing through her foot and stabbed shoulder. There is no sympathy for me, not even from the nicest of the Stewards.

"Amma," Aliyah said, meeting her mother's gaze. "They will kill you for helping me."

"Pah, it's just death. What more can they do to me as a woman ah? Steward Clayton gifted death to Luyi after a year." Amma's hand caressed Aliyah's cheek, then her mother kissed her brow before giving Aliyah her own sandals to wear. "If I run, who will bring Ayden food? Don't fret. Steward Jyori must still follow our Lord's rules, and I've done nothing worthy of death."

"You don't know –"

Her mother shook Aliyah. "Ah ah, stop fighting me. Stubborn to the end ah, Aliyah? You need to go."

Aliyah heard the sense in her mother's insistent pleading, but could not fully bring herself to leave without her. "Come with me," Aliyah pleaded. "We can both go to the Steward."

But her mother's response was to shake her head. "I need to stay to keep them here, distract them while you run. Do you still remember how to get to our Steward's office?"

Various notions of arguments bubbled up and died within Aliyah as she saw her mother's serious look. All she could do was quell her selfishness and nod, feeling the tears threaten to spill from her eyes.

"Good girl ah." Something creaked, and the sound of glass smashing into a thousand pieces echoed up from downstairs. Her Amma's face wrinkled, then her voice turned low and hurried. "That's them. I need to go talk to them now, tell them you're getting dressed. You must go ah."

Aliyah allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. She winced at her foot, but deadened the pain with channeled aura as her training kicked in. It is just pain. Suffer a bit of pain now to avoid bigger pain later.

Her mother pointed to the broken-in window. Aliyah nodded, then hopped onto the windowsill before turning around.

"Amma, I'm sorry. I —"

Her mother was already at the door, looking back at her with glistening eyes. "I only ever had one wish. For my children to live, to be safe. To be happy and able to enjoy the lives I gave them. Will you remember that for me?"

Then she disappeared back into the hallway, and Aliyah could only swallow the words she couldn't say.

As her mother's loud voice greeted the soldiers who had entered the restaurant, Aliyah half-hobbled and half-swung through the dark alleyways she had navigated since her childhood. Her foot bled, but Aliyah already knew what to do about the bleeding trail. She would need to take more complex paths to go through the areas in the dark.

Find Steward Ryu.

Turn herself in.

Ask the Steward to help her mother and brother.

Maybe do some time. Then… the Spears wouldn't take her back with that on her record. But she could still join her mother in the kitchen, and Ayden could always restart his pottery kiln.

Aliyah resolved to make it right.

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