Algernon Black

(Chapter 12) A Good Seamstress

The siblings landed at Emora's most well-traveled port. Lucy was used to traveling by boat but something about this trip had given her a resounding headache. There was also an ache in her side that ran all the way up to the tips of her fingers. She figured it must have been from sleeping in the wrong position, but no pain could take away from the excitement she felt getting off the boat to the bustling life of the city. By far, Arlamoore was the most beautiful and affluent city they had traveled to. Built right after Attwood, it had a rich history and compelling architecture that put every other city to shame with it's riche hues of jewel-toned greens and reds featured on the roofs of buildings to the patterned stone floors of the streets.

"Somehow the boat attendants lost our luggage," Jared said, running his hands through the back of his hair, something he did whenever he lied or felt unnerved, but Lucy didn't care.

She didn't even notice his words as she was too mesmerized, taking the city in.

Arlamoore had a careful look of contrived beauty. Jared had once heard it described as the city crafted by the gods, and, of every place he visited, this was closest to claiming the title. Any random alleyway could be a painting, and every home looked like it could house a prince. It was the center gem to the greatest country in the world with the appearance to match, or at least it was what Emora wanted everyone to spread around the world. To keep up this image of wealth and power, even the poorest of families had the outsides of their homes immaculate with armed guards roaming the streets in uniforms more expensive and ornate than the customs at the theatre to ensure every corner of the city was up to standard. The inside of the homes could be tattered ruins, and the picturesque alleyways could lead to one's death for all anyone cared, because in Emora appearances were the foundations of reputation and one's reputation was everything.

Emora's society leaned towards the best liars being the most successful as the best lies eventually became the truth from those that had the skills and connections to make it so, and if one lied well and long enough they might make something of themselves here. They might have to give up a soul on the way, but what was a soul to power and respect? Jared had almost fallen victim to that deal once—when he was young and inexperienced but thought himself old and wise. Lucy didn't know it, but she was the one who had saved him from his own ego all those years ago.

"Emora is everything the world says about it," Lucy raved, captivated by the scenery and a skyline of soaring buildings.

"The world doesn't always have such nice things to say about it," Jared murmured under his breath so she couldn't hear.

He didn't want to spoil any of this for Lucy. She admired the beauty of this place in pure wonderment, and he didn't have the heart to break her fantasies. It was so rare for expectations to be met, let alone surpassed and he thought it better to leave her happiness untainted. Time would no doubt ruin that anyways.

"And so many people," Lucy remarked, smiling at the men and women passing her by. They looked about themselves confused, wondering why the smile was directed at them. Some didn't have the sense to smile back as they so rarely were greeted with one, but that didn't stop Lucy from freely giving it.

Jared chuckled at his sister's antics. She was like a puppy with her tail wiping back and forth lost in the stimulation of so many new things—and some part of Jared hoped that time wouldn't take that from her. And maybe the purity of her able to see everything as purely wonderful could change to her views, instead of ruining hers in the sordid truth.

A group of tired-looking sailors crossed Lucy's path and she waved to them with a smile. So, flustered by it, the seamen dropped their cargo to wave back, sending barrels of wine rolling into a group of people. Lucy gasped in worry while Jared laughed before guiding her on.