Unexpected Succor
Kiley draped her coat over Emma's shoulders as the small group escorted her from the warehouse into the snowy night. The bodies had already been removed which, somehow, made Emma feel even more guilty than before. Simply vanishing made it seem as if they'd never been. Their lives had ceased to be, and they were now merely ghosts and memories living in the minds of those they'd left behind. Those who would never know what had happened to them. Those who would never have closure. While Emma's own memories of them were unpleasant, she still found their disappearance jarring.
Emma was rushed through the alley, stepping from the protection of the surrounding buildings onto the dark and nearly abandoned main streets of the River District. To the southeast, the elegant spire of the Dusk Tower glowed with an unearthly light, the arms of the massive clock showing nearly 2 AM. The small party waited for mere moments before the bulk of an Allicereum carriage pulled up to the curb and Emma was hurriedly bustled inside.
Though she had seen the carriages growling through the wide main streets of Bastion from time to time, she had never been inside one. The inside was plush and comfortable, with seats covered in deep turquoise velvet and paneled in dark, luxurious mahogany. The girl, Kiley, crawled onto the seat beside her and smiled reassuringly.
The carriage leapt forward smoothly, the sounds of its gears and pistons barely audible as it cruised through the streets toward the Shefsby River before turning north toward the unseen bulk of the city's curtain wall. Though not much faster than a horse at a gentle trot, the warm air blowing through the cabin heating her skin made the trip far more pleasant, and Emma could see why the carriages were so highly prized among the ruling aristocracy.
The carriage turned off the main road onto an anonymous side street, the lights on the front glancing off the stone houses crouched on either side of the narrow, winding way. The homes were not particularly ostentatious, most merely copies of each other with towers and turrets jutting skyward toward the waxing light of the twin moons.
The carriage pulled to a stop and Emma was rushed up a set of stone stairs leading toward another non-descript home with a steep, gabled roof. Curtained windows bled light onto a wide wrap-around porch invitingly as Kiley and her topped the steep stairs and pushed through the door inside.
"Connie!" Kylie called, closing the door behind Emma and herself. "Oy! Connie!" Emma glanced around apprehensively at the well-apportioned entry hall. A wide arch gave access to the sitting room on the south and a pair of doors sat closed to the north while a stairway ascended to the second floor at the end of the hall itself. One of the doors on the north wall opened, and an immaculately dressed woman with beautiful brown hair pulled into a crown braid emerged, looking quite irritated.
"My name is Constance, Kylie," the woman intoned with a pointed scowl. "Not 'Connie,' or 'Con,' or 'Stance,' or any other pithy nickname you seem determined to try to saddle me with. You know this and have been instructed to address me as such and, still, you persist."
"Ah, yeah, sorry, Connie." Kylie brushed her irritation away with a breezy wave of her hand. "This is our new friend Emma." Constance took Emma's appearance in with a cool and appraising gaze, traveling down from her disheveled hair, over her shredded blouse and skirt beneath Kylie's heavy leather coat to the rags tied and used as shoes on her feet before rising once more to Emma's face.
"This is her?" Constance demanded. Kylie nodded and raised her eyebrows meaningfully.
"Get out of that ridiculous outfit, Kylie. Come along, Emma." Constance stepped beside Emma quickly, wrapping an arm protectively around her shoulders. "Let's get you a bath, some decent clothes and something to eat, shall we?" Emma nodded slowly, allowing herself to be hurried from the hall.
"We should get 'er somethin' t' eat, don't ye think?" Kylie muttered to the empty hall ruefully. "''Sa great idea, Kylie! Yer a feckin' genius.'" Kylie shrugged sheepishly to her own self-administered compliment. "Well, ye know, when yer right, Connie, yer right as always." Kylie shook her head. "My outfit's no' 'ridiculous.' It's cute." The red frilly dress looked perfectly fine, she decided, staring down at it defiantly. Finally, she sighed and grudgingly climbed the stairs to get changed.
Constance shook her head as she washed Emma's back. The girl was so thin that the bones of her ribs pressed taut against her pale skin. Her body was heavily bruised from some form of recent abuse. She was dangerously underweight with little to no fat left on her. Her deep green eyes were sunken and haunted and there was so much dirt in her hair the water had already been changed once. She had the overall look of someone who hadn't eaten properly in years. With care the girl would make a thorough recovery, Constance decided, but if left much longer she would almost certainly have died.
"How are you, love?" Constance asked, moving the stool she sat on so she was facing Emma. She ran the cloth gingerly over the girl's small breasts, the puffy pink nipples reacted to the washcloth's pressure and stiffened slightly. Bruises covered her shoulders and upper arms as well as her neck. She was, in a word, a wreck.
"I-I don't know," Emma finally replied. "I'm very confused. Do you work for the Empress as well?" Constance smiled, brushing a wet strand of blonde hair from Emma's forehead.
"Yes." Constance nodded, continuing her tender ministrations, gently cleaning the dirt from Emma's small, thin body. "Everyone here works for her Highness."
"Why am I here? Am I in trouble? I know I lied earlier, but I didn't mean to hurt them! I p-promise." Emma's voice was tiny and frightened. Constance took her gently in her arms, ignoring the water soaking into the fine fabric of her dress and hugged her, running one hand through her hair tenderly. Constance had no idea what the girl was referring to, but it certainly didn't take a genius to figure out she'd gone through some heavy trauma.
"I know you're scared, but we're here to help you. I know you have a lot of questions, and I will make sure we answer as many as we can. We'll stay here for the night, and head to Edgemoor early tomorrow." Constance rocked her back and forth soothingly.
"Edgemoor?" Emma squeaked worriedly. While she had no idea what it was, the name sounded rather grim.
"It's one of the Empress' estates outside Bastion. We'll have time to work through what's happening and what will come next. We'll have answers for you, I promise. Just know you've done nothing wrong, and you're not in trouble, and you're safe. For now, rest, relax, get warm and eat well, love. You've obviously had a rough time of it."
"Th-Thank you." Emma nodded her head gratefully.
Constance sighed to herself, finding it difficult to believe this malnourished, frightened waif sitting placidly in the bath while she washed her was a living legend. For some bizarre reason, it struck Constance as exceedingly appropriate somehow. Most people would kill for the powers the Soul Render was supposed to possess. This girl just wanted to be warm and have something to eat and somewhere to sleep. If she kept that humility in the face of limitless power, maybe there was hope for the Empire after all.