“Why? You’d think they would sympathize with being treated like lesser citizens.”
“They used to,” Sin said, leading me through the trees. “There was a reluctant alliance between them years ago, but that all changed after the plague hit.”
I put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. “Why?”
Sin frowned at me. “Your father never told you?”
“Told me what?” I asked, growing nervous. I was tired of finding out new and tragic things people kept hidden from me.
“The plague,” he replied slowly. “They brought it into the city. Humans are the carriers.”
Chapter thirty-nine
While Civi Adasa was charming, elegant, magnificent, and beautiful, Civi Obsura was dirty, smelly, crowded, and depressing.
Honestly it felt like home.
“This is like the Rivellan version of Jersey,” I said with a laugh as we meandered down the road.
The streets were packed with unguisen pulling wagons loaded with food and other goods, while vendors hawked their wares at anybody who passed by. The city's buildings looked like they might crumble to pieces with a strong wind, and puddles of muddy water filled the numerous potholes strewn about the road. The stones that made up the sidewalks had more cracked pieces than solid ones.
All that aside, though, it was the people that made the biggest difference between this city and the one up the hill. There was very little joy on the faces of Civi Obsura’s people. Their eyes were downcast and their shoulders rounded forward. Children tucked tight into their parents' sides were more often crying thenlaughing, and more than one fight broke out during the first five minutes we were there.
And the smell. It wasn’t quite as bad as the sewage dump, but it was definitely not the vanilla and rose petals I had scented in Civi Adasa.
The longer we walked, the more I realized maybe Jersey wasn’t so bad.
When we passed by the food vendors, Sin bought me a hunk of the roasted lanfa he swore would change my life.
He wasn’t far off. The tender meat nearly melted in my mouth and the salty, spicy flavor had me drooling.
“What do they season this with, cocaine?” I asked as a moan escaped me.
Sin laughed and led me down a side street while I devoured the succulent meat. We moved away from the center of the city into a more residential area, and I noticed at least in this part of town things weren’t quite so depressing. Children actually played in the streets while mothers chatted nearby in the shade.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to a symbol on a crumbling brick wall.
“That’s the sign of the Lissentia,” Sin said in a quiet, maybe even respectful, tone. “I suppose you would call them anarchists. They are, or were, a group of Rivellan imminarios that opposed the royal family being situated over the Source while the people here on the outskirts struggled with scraps of magic.”
“That’s considered anarchy?” I asked, licking the remnants of the lanfa off my fingers. “It seems like the people here far outnumber those in the castle. Why don’t they overthrow the royal family?”
“There were attempts,” Sin said as he directed me to continue walking. “Though the attacks really only began in earnest after the plague tore through each court’s outer cities. The imminarios always suffered the most. The Silver Court had thefirst uprising, maybe thirty years ago. They just wanted their king to open his castle grounds to the masses for a few hours each day. They believed that more of the imminarios would be able to develop as secunnarios or even amplissarios if they were nearer to the Source.” Sin stopped walking. “The king had their heads removed, Rain.”
“Wait,” I said, once I was able to move past the Silver King's brutality. “Are you saying that proximity to the Source can affect how many abilities a person can get?”
Sin let out a sigh that carried the weight of someone witnessing injustice, yet helpless to prevent it. “Yes, Rain. If a Vitaean does not have access to the Source, then how would they be able to manifest their magic? Those forced to live on the outer edges so far from the well of power will never know how much magic they might have been able to wield. A lion will never know how fast he can run if he is never released from his cage.”
I placed a hand along a wall to steady myself. “So those that are born out here will never have a way to improve their situation? It’s a never ending cycle of suppression.”
“For the most part,” he agreed. “Occasionally a powerful secunnario will emerge, but it is very rare.”
“Like you,” I said, and Sin nodded.
“If I wasn’t accepted into Verren’s guard and spent so much time around the Source, then I never would have developed my third power.”
My fingers twined through his, and we continued walking, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the people around me. All throughout my life we had been taught about injustice, and yet no amount of schooling prepared me for seeing it in person. I inspected the city around me, the slums, and really saw it for the first time.
A young girl spilled the glass of water she was carrying, and her mom struggled to catch the stream of liquid before it hit theground. A father struggled to heal his son’s scraped knee, barely able to get it scab over. A street vendor struggled to keep the fire going under the meat he was cooking.
