The Matriarch's Daughter

Chapter Four: The Unexpected Visitor

Thepa arrived at the lowest level of Goldale shortly after the sun had risen above the horizon. The first level was not her favorite place in the city, and today was no exception. As soon as her hoof found the final step down the spire, she was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people resting on the pavement, now alerted to her presence.

Her previous visits to the first level hadn't gone unnoticed, not that she was easy to miss. She was the only person in Goldale who wore the green beret and, as far as she knew, the only female Youngling of the Mountain in the Goldale army and, as far as she believed, the only upper echelon of Goldale society to visit the first level.

People reacted instinctively. Some pretended to be preoccupied, others shuffled away, ducking into the shadows.

And yet, no amount of movement could conceal the overwhelming presence of those left homeless. They surrounded Thepa in masses, bodies pressed against the edges of crumbling walls or sprawled across the filthy pavement. Their gazes were hollow, following her every move with desperation.

Then there was the smell. Sludge and refuse assaulted Thepa's senses, forcing her to breathe through her mouth. The entire level reeked of it, but the worst came from the people she desperately desired to help. It was so bad that she considered it a blessing she hadn't eaten breakfast when the rest of the crowd dissipated empty-handed.

As bad as it all was, the worst thing about what happened on level one was the rest of the city's indifference. Without meaningful reforms, the gold Thepa handed out offered temporary relief, quickly consumed and just as swiftly forgotten.

Still, Thepa did what little she could. She gave what gold she had until there was nothing left. Now considerably lighter, she clacked to the docks to watch the ships make berth.

Vessels from the nations and fishing towns crowded the harbor, each one proudly displaying a tapestry of colors, flags, and emblems of their distant lands. Towering masts from the Kingdom of Clayborn, sleek elven ships adorned in red and gold, stood out against the rugged, sturdy vessels of the fishing town of Pearlview. Human and Galak merchant ships from the Republic of Lightmount, painted in blue and white, bustled with activity, jostling for space alongside the ornate, gilded boats of the third-level nobles. Even the longboats from the Federation of Wildehaven, with their green and red sails, were a vast cornucopia of sounds coming from their docks.

Thepa was certain she had even caught a glimpse of a pirate ship from the Free Nation of Swampspell, but they made it difficult to be sure. The only nation that seemed to lack representation in the bustling port was the Matron State of the Beachwick, not that she was surprised. Thepa knew very little about the Sisterhood, but one thing she did know was that they preferred life on their own terms.

Finding her way over to the ship with red and green sails, Thepa boarded to see sailors unloading crates of exotic goods. The scents of foreign spices mingled with the city's stink, filling the air with an overwhelming blend of aromas. She started to approach the poop deck to ask about her charge when a sight for sore eyes caught her attention, currently engrossed in the task of offloading a bolt of silk.

"Claudia!" Thepa squealed, rushing to her friend.

Claudia turned, catching sight of Thepa, and dropped the bolt. Her face lit up, freckles stretching to the points of her cheeks. Thepa quickly closed the distance and hugged the halfling woman, only to get a mouthful of her blonde locks and a whack to the side from the small object Claudia had tied to her braid—a makeshift weapon she sometimes wielded as a whip. The padding of Thepa's tunic largely protected her, but it didn't stop her from wincing as she embraced her apologetic friend.

"Sorry," Claudia said, looking up with her large brown eyes. Her face fell, allowing the tautness of her freckles to relax.

But Thepa shook her head. "You don't have to be sorry," she said, hugging her friend again. A wave of emotion hit her heart, desperate to hold on physically and emotionally to the moment, daring never to let go. "If this is the Claudia I've been missing, I'd gladly let you beat the tar out of me."