The Old City

0.47: Ryster

His vision was clearing, but the white dots wouldn't go away. He cursed himself for not looking away sooner.

The northern battlefield was a mess of blood and panic; Ryster crawled from foxhole to foxhole to treat his comrades' injuries. The Magnarians were entrenched at the top of the hill and had clear views at each of the Soranian encampments.

Lieutenant Vatian said this was a pivotal moment in the war, but it seemed like any other: They faced impossible odds, his friends were dying all around, and he could do little to stop their suffering.

But Ryster was forgetting his mission again. Healing them was not his primary concern. He only had to get them back into the fight.

Three days later.

The morning coffee seared Ryster's throat, but it was his favorite part of the day. He sat in the Puric Café every day to watch the comings and goings of his fellow citizens. Most carried that same downtrodden look, a coat of sweat and sand that seemed to add years to their faces.

But Ryster shunned that look. He wore a smile like armor against the suffering of the First Ring. Even watching these sad creatures pass, their despair could not touch him. He would sometimes hand part of his meal to the passing children, none of whom had ever known a full belly. It was these little things he enjoyed, the faces and the giving. But for all his efforts, he could only make a small difference.

He did not see a stranger sit behind him and would never have noticed him if the man did not speak up.

"You seek the Peacebringer."

"Do you know where I can find him?" It wasn't the first time he had been surprised in a restaurant. He began to turn around but felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He couldn't have turned any more if he'd tried.

"If I did, I wouldn't tell you. Lucien put a ten thousand Kait bounty on his head. The smart money says someone turns him in this week."

"He's avoided them for a long time. The bounty won't change anything."

"...What do you mean?"

Curiosity peaked through the man's voice, but Ryster couldn't figure out what he wanted.

"The Peacebringer stopped the fight that broke out in Ward 21 last month. His crew have been workin' in the shadows a long time and some publicity now won't stop him."

"You don't know anything. The Enforcers stopped that fight."

Ryster wondered about the mysterious man now. He seemed to know things, but his facts were wrong. Does he want me to reveal more? Does he want the bounty?

"I'm not givin' you any more free information. Tell me what you want and maybe I can help."

"Why are you lookin' for the Peacebringer?"

He already knows, otherwise he wouldn't have sought me out. The truth it is, then.

"I want to make Soran a better place. There's so much violence and disease on the streets, you can hardly walk a block without witnessin' despair. I used to make a difference. I used to save lives. But ever since I got back, it hasn't been the same. I don't have a system or support or supplies. I can't do anything on my own.

"The Peacebringer seems capable though. He's intervened at least twice against the gangs, and probably sustained injuries each time. I don't know what kind of medics he has access to, but I'm pretty good. I want to volunteer. No war – no movement – can last if its leaders are too damaged to lead."

"I can introduce you – if you do something for me first." The man stood and moved to the seat across from him. "He is looking for recruits and you have made quite a lot of noise. Either you are a bleedin' heart or a bad spy, but you are a fool. You should have been more subtle. That is why I am here, and he is not."

"Who is hurt?" The man raised a thin eyebrow in surprise. "You would not have come without researchin' me, and everyone knows I am a medic. If the Peacebringer needs me, then someone is injured."

"I appreciate a man who doesn't need to be explained to. There is another man like that in the Underground. He is old and frail. He just developed a nasty cough, but he can't make it to the surface."

"Does he have any other symptoms?"

"You are in?"

Ryster looked into the man's eyes and decided to trust him. He knew he gave into trust too easily, especially in a city like Soran. It was a flaw that had haunted him more than once; poor decisions and misplaced faith often led to the cruelest of deceits. Yet for all the warnings and all the fear, Ryster chose to believe once more.

The Peacebringer had affected real change in just one month. One of Soran's three gangs had fallen, and another had received a terrible blow. A foreign plot threatened to undo all his work and set the city ablaze, yet Ryster knew the Peacebringer had a plan even for that and if he could be of assistance, he would be.

"I'm in."

***

A rooftop across from the Puric Café, the same time.

"The kid could be valuable," Marcus said. "Are you sure we should put him in the middle of a war zone before we even read him in?"

Seneca leaned over the ledge and watched Kovan and Ryster from afar.

"The old man is sick and most doctors are too frightened to help him. He will die if we don't get him help."

"Don't bullshit me, Sen. The others, fine, but I have known you for too long."

He sighed. Sometimes havin' him back is a nuisance. I guess that's the price of old friendships.

"We need a distraction. It's dangerous, but it's also our only chance to root out the Magnarians still hidin' near the Blackalley. I'd rather use Ryster as bait than someone we trust."

"And the gods know there are few enough of them."