Secrets Intertwined

I

"If we're late for the meeting, I swear Logan, I'm grounding you for a year."

"Grounding me? Fucking hell, Jackson! I'm twenty-six years old, get a grip."

Jackson chuckled and ran his hand through his auburn hair. Fingers snagging on knots, he cursed under his breath and began combing through his hair.

"I barely had time to shower this morning," he grumbled, "Another eight tiles fell off the roof this morning. We're lucky the house hasn't started leaking."

"I know, I found a cracked window out back too," replied Logan, rubbing at a stain on his trousers.

Jackson looked at his clothes with a slightly embarrassed gaze. Neither of them had enough money to buy clothes fancy enough to wear at the Council House. So, this morning he had grabbed the cleanest shirt he had, ignoring the sound of a seam splitting when he bent his elbow. As for his trousers, well he was down to his last pair. He had grown out of them years ago but luckily; it was warm enough where they lived to wear shorts most of the year around. Still, he had plucked a pair from his bare wardrobe a couple of days ago and given them to a seamstress to patch up. There was nothing he could do about the length of them though.

Fortunately, he found himself not the only one to be grossly underdressed. Glancing at Logan's shirt, he saw faded stains covering almost every inch of the material. Stains from grass and mud and who knows what else from all the time he spent working outdoors.

"Stop worrying, will you?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Jackson looked Logan in the face and asked, "Pardon?"

"I said to stop worrying. We're not going to be late."

"We better not be."

Laughing, Logan leant back in his seat and turned towards the window.

"See," he said, pointing, "The Council House is right there. We've got plenty of time to spare."

"Hmm."

Jackson craned his neck to look out the window. In all its finest, stood the infamous Council House. It was the oldest and most regal building in all of Imperium. 

Imperium was full of vast lands, ranging from tropic deserts to icy mountains. Dotted throughout were thirty-six Communities, each with their own three Leaders. 

The Communities, varying from small villages to highly populated areas, were the wealthier and safer places. Each was a mini-empire, with their own internal taxes, holidays and markets. 

The majority of Communities had lands and resources that were traded between one another. A small minority, like Jackson and Logan's Community, Bane, were less well of and they had to survive and thrive by themselves. The Imperium Council, with their laws and regulations, oversaw the Communities, stepping in when needed. 

However, in between the Communities were other places, unruly and unchecked. With no laws and more than a few sinful people, these inter-lands were commonly knowns as Offshoots, with the majority harbouring illicit trade centres.

What infuriated Jackson was how all of the Communities were obligated to pay an obscene amount of money for their children to be protected mostly likely from someone from an Offshoot. It had long been a conversation between the Leaders of his Community how the Council should, at long last, do something about them.

It had been a little over five years since his sister had disappeared without a trace. Thankfully, no one else from his Community had been taken but he had always wondered why. Why it had to be his sister instead of someone else's. She had only just turned eighteen.