The Old City

0.7: Relentless

Seneca woke before the sun had even considered rising. Through the crack in his curtains beams of moonlight still peeked into his room, bestowing upon it a still, serene atmosphere. This used to be Seneca's favorite time, a time to think. These days he rarely woke early enough, and even more rarely cared about anything besides falling back to sleep.

Today was different. He went over every word Marcus had said and every word Angelica had reiterated to him. There are worse things than change, he mused. But beneath his bravado and excitement, Marcus was surely hiding something. His ticks hadn't changed in years: rhythmic tapping of his middle and ring fingers when he was pushing limits, talking too fast when he was trying to brush past questions. Marcus might bring revolution to Soran, but what did he truly want?

Impossible to know, Seneca concluded. I'll have to find out more when I see him.

He dressed, grabbed the oldest apple from the kitchen, and made for the docks, chewing it all the way to work. How would I change Soran?

Children might ponder the same hypothetical and in this moment, Seneca permitted himself to think with a child's imagination, free from the limits of cruel reality. The First Ring keeps more of its goods. The Enforcers actually investigates and prevents crime, rather than perpetuate it. Every kid has a better future than me...never gonna happen.

As the docks came into view, these thoughts evaporated and backbreaking work resumed. The hours droned on with a sad monotony. Dozens of workers moved like ants to carry goods off of an on to the ships, their only thanks brief grunts from the foremen. Fewer people fell today since the sun had risen behind gathering clouds which threatened rain later that day.

As Seneca bent over to pick up another box and felt his spine click for the fifth time that day, he realized he hated working the docks. He then marveled that this was the first time he'd had this realization. Looking around at his grimy, underpaid co-laborers, he wanted something else.

As though reading his thoughts, he caught view of Marcus, sitting on his ship eating candied nuts from a bag. Seneca glanced at his supervisor who was taking a junior crewmember's head off. Screw it.

"I thought you would be lookin' for recruits to the cause by now."

"I had to get my first! Have you come to your senses yet?"

"Didn't Angelica tell you not to bother us anymore?"

"We seldom listened to Angelica back in the day."

"And we got into more trouble than it was worth."

"I promise, this time all the trouble will be worth it."

"You're relentless. You have no idea how bad things have gotten and come to my place of work asking me to overthrow the First Ring with you?"

"Well, I wouldn't even be able to overthrow The Mermaid's Wing without you buddy, let alone the First Ring. I need that mind of yours. Come now, you were on the cusp of a breakthrough last night. I'm sure you have thought about it more. What else do I need to win this fight?"

"You know, in the last hundred years only one person has even tried what you're doin'. Petrus Paltor. He consolidated half the First Ring before the Enforcers and the Second Ring realized he'd be a problem if he gained any more power. He was dead the day they decided to kill him."

"I did not claim this would be easy."

"And the First Ring has been content with the gangs for centuries even before that. There's an expectation of violence."

"Then they'll accept it when I violently overthrow these gangs and Enforcers."

"Then they'll fight back harder to keep what small freedom they have."

"They'll be freer with me than with any of the gang lords right now. I'll make sure they're fed, make sure have roofs over their heads. I'll make sure they can forget those centuries of violence and learn peace."

"You don't even know the gang lords. They are stronger than you think. I don't know your plan yet, but it won't be easy to beat one of them, let alone all three!"

"That's why I need you to teach me. I'll listen to any strategy that mind concocts. Your plans have always guided me down the right path. And I haven't come to you blind, old friend. I know something of the gang lords, but I also know you continued to draft strategies in the war. Strategies that saved Soranian lives. There are soldiers in the First Ring who would flock to you knowin' they would never lose. They owe you a debt. Come on, Seneca. It's time to retake your name from the war."

Seneca froze. Will it be like the war? If it's all out gang warfare...these streets will run with blood. I can't be a part of this.

"You don't have to be on the front lines." Marcus cut off his train of thought before he could spiral. "In fact, I don't want you on the battlefield at all. I just need your plans. I need you buddy!"

"SENECA!"

Seneca slowly turned to see the foreman Rio hustling to him, his rolls of fat bouncing with each stride. "What the Hell do you think you're doin'?"

"He was helping me choose a place for lunch," Marcus interjected, flipping the man a silver Kait. "We were just about to wrap up I think."

"Kavaria in Ward 12 is good," Seneca said, slithering the words to Marcus with intention. His friend (and the foreman) nodded.

"Perfect! I will try it this evening. My wife wanted a reservation for two, but I'm afraid I might become three before the morning is done."

"Very good," Rio interjected. He pocketed the coin and tossed an angry glance back at Seneca. "Hurry your ass back to the warehouses. The ship at fourteen isn't even a quarter full and they leave in an hour."

Seneca nodded and watched the man fade away.

"He was pleasant. You really like workin' here?"

"It pays."

"Money should not be a problem for someone of your talent."

"I'm sick of usin' my 'talent'. I'm tired of people dyin' for obscure causes."

"This isn't an obscure cause. This is a fight for the future of Soran. And it's one I'm gonna win."

Marcus in that moment seemed invincible. The sun peaked out from the clouds to grace his chestnut hair. Victory became him. Galleveron himself could not have touched him. The confidence of his smile was so warm that as it radiated within him, Seneca felt he himself could accomplish anything he set his mind toward. No barrier existed for Marcus.

And in the face of his indomitable will, Soran struck back.

A crash was heard, powerful but distant. Even among the cacophony of the docks, it hung in the air, out of place and disconcerting. Buildings were falling. People were screaming.

The gang warfare Seneca so greatly feared had been heralded across his city.