The Lord of Rot

Before even being able to understand his predicament. He had been asked the one question he could not answer. He knew the answer immediately, but then his answer was wrong. He felt it in his soul, the way his answer felt like a lie. 

She had asked him, "Who are you?" Hoping to refer him to the Lord. Many men in the Lord's service were tasked with dubious missions, some of them included safety precautions. If a city dweller was singled out, they were supposed to collect to the inner part of the city, state their names, their occupation, pay their taxes, et cetera. 

This was to insure the "safety" of the city. The Lord's men were cautious when it came to this. If there was one thing every city dweller knew, it was that the Lord despised the existence of the rotted. With insistence, none of them could dwell inside the borders. This was with nuance, some workers were allowed at the very edges of the city, but this was usually done in secret. 

The Lord's men would gather people around the corners of the city, they would take them to the inner city and then the Lord's men were rewarded generously. The Rotted on the other hand? This was the Lord's pride. 

Then it was understandable when the lady frowned and cowered in fear when the man before her said: 

"Oh no, I'm not on duty, I don't need you to refer to me at all." 

"Oh my..." Said the lady, then moved away quickly. 

'Why'd she ask who I was?' But then again, the way the kind lady had moved away with haste did upset him. Why? He was not used in conversation, his first instinct told him that the lady had become uncomfortable. 

"Oh well..." He continued. "Bye..." 

The lady slowly disappeared in the crowd. Moving inwards towards the city centre. She would no-doubt take a side street, moving through the middle street the whole street down could have taken an hour. The sheer scale continued to surprise him. It didn't remind him of anything, the titanic scale of the city was simply from the fantasies. 

'How can there be so many people?' 

It was a street, but there were countless people moving up and down it. The people didn't look disturbed nor focused. It was strange, what was that emotion? It was the mix between rest and unrest. He remembered the facilities, the way people had read from the Doctrine, the way they rested in the time between. He had forgotten the other things they had done - but from what he knew, they did nothing else.

The emotion sported on their face was alien. It struck him heavily, both relaxed as in sleeping, but unfocused? It might be added that this emotion was called: happiness. 

Were they truly happy? At the very least, there was an abundance of them. They walked around the street, conversed with each other and bought supplies and foodstuff. The foodstuff didn't seem too enticing yet. 

He moved towards the inner city - not reaching anyplace special. It seemed by now that the city was divided in several huge segments. Each building was wider than they were tall, but that didn't mean they weren't tall. Between each building were streets, these internal streets were half the size of the main street which ran along the outsides and the middle like a large plus symbol. 

The sheer scale made him confused. The wilderness had been direct, but now this place was far too large. 'I should go...' He tried to say. 'Maybe I should...?' But he couldn't think of it. 

What made the situation even worse was his contradictory approach to the city life. Something clawing at the back of his throat begged and ached for Durs - but he didn't even know what Durs were, but he still ached for them. 

Then suddenly he stopped in the street. 

He salivated. Thought of food, which he seldom did nowadays. A memory of oats, the only food they received in the facility. 

He could not stop himself from approaching a vendor. 

"Ehm, ehm..." He said, looking with puppy dog eyes towards the vendor. "Could I have, something?" 

The vendor looked stern, but he also looked scared. It must have been a difficult season, the money being tight and such. 

He gave him something pierced on a stick. It wasn't meat. It wasn't vegetables. But... it tasted fantastic! 

He ate it in one go. 

The vendor then said: "That'd be 5 Durs... Sir..." 

"Five Durs?!?!" He exclaimed. 

A sudden nervousness struck him. 

The vendor then had this horrible look on his face. Looked towards him up and down, fixating on the jacket he wore. Then he said: "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see your... I was kidding... That'd be 2 Durs for you, my friend!" 

He looked at the vendor. His first thought was of running. 

But he couldn't do that - the city was crowded after all. 

He felt around his jacket - trying to seem casual instead of nervous. 

He accidentally grabbed a thick wad of papers in his jacket's pocket... 

Then he smiled... 

"Actually, could I have it for free...?" 

Internally he screamed. 

'Why did i ask for that!!!!' 

The vendor sweated. He shook his head. Then he started speaking nervously. 

"If you insist... and... but you better come back back... or you don't have too... I have a family too feed... sorry... half a family..." The vendor said that last part with a bit of resentment, but he could hear all of it. 

So the man asked him to repeat himself without showing any anger. "What was that?" 

Suddenly the vendor jumped in the air with fear. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to misspeak of the Lord..." 

Then he left, his mouth still salivating at the fantastic taste. 

He left the place muttering in his mouth quietly, "His Lord?" 

'Who is he? What the hell is this place...?' 

He fiddled around with the thick wad of Durs in his jacket pocket. Feeling invincible, he strutted towards the inner city...