S a l e t é I I

XXI - Estomac - Onze

Cassia, using her journal, recorded each turn that she took with Zisel as they began to delve into the maze, writing either the letter "L" or the letter "R" depending on the direction they'd taken. Zisel had deemed it a thoughtful idea, and she'd been more than happy to wait for a short time as her friend had made each inscription.

The colossal warehouses that she knew their side of Lower Merveille for were one thing, but Cassia was surprised by the range of structures that made up the withered industrial zone, many of them not present on the route that Monet had taken her on many times now. One side of the area must have been devoted to larger structures, whilst many smaller ones were littered around the other, with buildings ranging from the size of their hideout to the size of a humble shed.

Practically every single example of architecture they came across had taken some sort of beating, either from age or from scavengers, the perpetrators often working together. 

Broken windows, shards of glass, missing boards, cracked walls, dented metal, disfigured pipes, smashed brickwork... 

To say that the place needed a clean-up was a vast understatement. On the other hand, that damage made it possible to reach certain spots that would have otherwise been out of reach - a gap in a fence, a hole in an exterior wall...

Whilst rubbish was a nigh permanent fixture across each stretch of their chosen areas, there were a few things that managed to be interesting, even if they too were of no feasible use. Halfway down one path they found a terribly faded backpack, not unlike the ones they made use of, unfortunately empty. A shoe had been left behind in one corner, white in colour and lashed by grime and dirt. Cassie also came across what looked like a child's pencil case, pink with little yellow flowers, marred with holes. 

Most people might have written off such things as purely pointless, but she couldn't help but think of how they'd ended up where they had. Who had dropped a bag, and why? Who'd lost a shoe? Had another child really been through here?

Other common features of the industrial complex included mould, boxes and barrels. Many of the various containers came with labels that had been all but erased by time,  undermining Cassia's attempts to pick out anything familiar - perhaps the LMDA logo, or the Brisbois name - whilst a great deal of them had already been investigated by others who'd been through in the past. There were times where she caught a whiff of petrol, or the musty air of sodden wood or rust, pushing through on each occasion, Zisel's hand in hers.

The young tailor had continued with her stories and accounts, keeping Cassia in a pleasant enough mood in spite of their surroundings.

"My favourite question they'd asked me was, if you can't see, why don't you take off your blindfold?" She'd been saying, Cassia laughing as soon as she'd heard such a recollection.

"They're all so sweet..."

"Who's your favourite?" Cassie asked her.

"My favourite? Ooh, I can't pick a favourite, no way. I love them all."

"I haven't met them all yet, but the ones I know are all really nice."

Indeed, just thinking of the bunch was enough to bring another smile to Cassia's face. She wondered what they were up to at that very moment. Playing games? Helping Chief? Annoying Captain? Whatever the case was, she hoped thay they were well.

"Klavdiya told me that Flo took a liking to you very quickly." Zisel said.

"Flo...?"

"Mmh. You know, Sleeves." 

"Oh! Yeah, Sleeves is great. She drew me a picture once!"

Flo... That was a cute name. Little Flo, with the long sleeves.