Call of the Abyss [Book 2 Complete]

Threindil moved through the wide Durthangrim streets, Cassie's hand in his. She'd be skipping far ahead if he weren't holding her hand like a leash. For her thirteenth birthday, he had promised to take her to the desert outside the city to hunt Sand Scorpions—contingent upon acquiring her first class, of course.

It hadn't really surprised him when she got her first class half a year ago—well in advance of most kids. All of Cassie's friends (and their parents) had been surprised that her mental Attributes had hit the required thresholds, which was a polite way of saying they didn't think her the brightest.

Threindil knew that wasn't the case, though. Cassie was sharp as a knife, and just as deadly. It might not appear so due to her brash and fiery personality, but when she slowed down and took the time to think, she was wise beyond her age.

Not that the others' opinions of her were entirely unjustified. Most saw the young girl that talked with her fists as much as her mouth. They didn't see the young girl who mastered body reinforcement when she was nine years old. They didn't see the young girl who created her own ax head with magic from the very stone of the city's construction.

They didn't see a young girl whose emotional outbursts were, while excessive and lacking temperance, completely justified. She never lashed out in unearned anger, nor did she punch down. Everyone she lashed out at struck first and were either equal or above her in strength or position.

She wasn't some dumb brute. She was a smart, human girl craving equality in a city built on dwarven hegemony.

That said, Threindil couldn't help but wonder how far she could go if she'd just rein her temper in a little. Just because her anger was justified didn't mean it was the most appropriate tool.

Threindil attributed many of her shortcomings to himself. How did he even end up in the position of a parent? Why did he stop and speak with that tiny girl who tried to pickpocket him seven years ago?

An image flashed through his mind.

A young man—barely of age—working a minimum wage job, and now having to take care of and raise a much younger sister after their parents died in an accident.

He shook his head to clear the thoughts away. Maybe he was superimposing his sister's face from so many lifetimes ago over Cassie's initially, but that wasn't why he was with her now. She was his child as much as any blood relative.

The problem was that he had no idea how to be a good brother, let alone a father. How do you channel a brilliant young girl's fiery passion into something constructive rather than destructive?

"Git back, scum!" A barrel of a man shouted, tossing an emaciated man out of an open doorway. Threindil and Cassie were just passing one of the larger enclosed market spaces on Tier 3. The door was likely one of the entrances to that market, while the barrel-chested man was a "guard."

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The market guards on Tier 3 were little more than thugs, in Threindil's opinion. It was a position with only two requirements: size and Strength. Anyone meeting that criteria could apply for the post, and few were turned away. Morals were not a consideration for the position.

"Please, sir! My family must eat! We are trapped in this city! We cannot survive a peregrination through the desert! We would die from dehydration if we were fortunate enough to not encounter any of the beasts that make their homes there!" the man pleaded. His voice was hoarse, though not likely just from use, based on his appearance.

He had sunken skin that clung to his frame like a wet shirt clings to skin. His eyes had bags that even the largest capacity dimensional storage would envy. The tattered rags he wore were dark with grime, and holes exposed sores and blemishes that were likely permanent fixtures of his body.

"That ain't ma bloody fuckin' problem! Ya wanna beg, ya got the whole damn city ta do it! Ain't no beggin' in the market!" the large man shouted and literally spat. He was probably a stretch-and-a-half tall, with arms and legs like tree trunks and a belly like the stump they were attached to. He was clearly eating well-enough.

This was a dynamic Threindil was familiar with, not just in Durthangrim. Everywhere that oppression existed, it sought to pit the oppressed against each other. This human man should, ostensibly, be aligned with the beggar who had nothing to eat as kin sharing the same struggle.

Yet, because the SoDD empowered him with a standard of living that—while not nearly as good as any native-born dwarf—was leagues better than this beggar, he was now their loyal attack dog. It was a sad but common situation.

Threindil, quick as an arrow, grabbed Cassie's arm, which had begun reaching for the ax on her back. She flinched and looked up at him with anger and confusion in her eyes.

Likely, she was both confused why he had stopped her and why she'd been reaching for her ax in the first place. She had such a firm sense of morality that wouldn't allow her to stand witness to such blatant injustice without acting. It was so ingrained that it enforced its justice on her subconsciously.

"What is your plan?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you going to kill that man? He threw the beggar out of the marketplace, but does he deserve death for it?"

Cassie looked at the ground and chewed her lip. Threindil crouched down so their eyes were level, now holding both her hands.

"Tell me, Cassie—If you start judging who deserves death and delivering it, can you also judge who died while deserving life and bring them back?" he asked her quietly.

She looked at him with glistening eyes. She didn't cry much, and when she did, she did not like others to see—no matter how many times he tried to assure her that there was no shame in having emotions.

"One instance of violence, whether justified or not, does not bring about lasting change, Cassie. Remember that. It's only through planned collaboration that change can be achieved. You would act here, on your own, to your own doom. Nothing more," he said softly but firmly.

Cassie took one of her hands away from him and wiped her eyes on the inside of her elbow.

"Come. Let's focus on what we can do right now, which is to get stronger," he said, standing up and resuming the posture they had earlier—a father, walking his daughter hand-in-hand. She nodded, and they set off for the entrance to the city and the desert beyond.