TEN - Silvan

Silvan heads into the Outskirts to return Quintessa's son to his father.

The baby was quiet as Silvan carried him through the streets of the city towards the front gate.  The Exiling Ceremony was over, Atherton was surely lost somewhere in the Barelands by now if he hadn’t already been killed by a Bareland Beast.  The horde of people inside the city had already gotten their fill of torture and had returned home, but Silvan could see through the entryway that the crowd in the Outskirts was only just beginning to disperse.  I hope none of them recognize me.  After the circumstances surrounding his promotion to a Xantomian Guard, his old friends in the Outskirts weren’t too fond of him any longer.

Silvan nodded to the guard at the gate who nodded back and turned the wheel, raising the gate so that he could pass through.  Just after he passed through, a voice called out from nearby.

“Silvan!” the voice called.  They’ve found me already.  I may have to return and get Xanthus to send someone else on this mission.  He looked up to see the owner of the voice and realized it was Zultan.  He was carrying a small child under each of his arms.  “You’d better put a leash on that daughter of yours,” he continued.

“Keep your voice down.  And what are you talking about?  You’ve seen Esmarine?  What’s she done this time?”

“You’ll have to ask her about that.  She’s back there,” he gestured into the darkness behind him, “with Castiel.  But it looks like someone takes after Daddy.  I should have guessed your filthy ditch-scum blood runs in your kid’s veins, too.”

Silvan felt his blood run hot.  “If we weren’t both holding babies, I’d hit you right now.”

“Take your best shot,” Zultan said.  “How about we settle this when we get off duty tonight?”

“As much as I’d love to, it wouldn’t be right.  We have the honor of the King’s Guard to uphold.”

“Don’t you dare speak to me about honor.  I saw what you did.  I watched it happen.  Just because you dress up in Guard’s clothing doesn’t make you a guard.  And that little b***h of yours is no better.”

Forget the babies, you deserve to die for that.  Silvan collected himself, his heart pounding fury through his veins.  “You can say what you want about me.  But don’t you dare speak about my daughter that way.”

“You sure she’s a girl?  Could have fooled me.”

“Whatever she did to you, I’m sure was well deserved.”

The two men stared each other down, daring the other to make a move.  Zultan was the first to break the silence.  “One of these days, you won’t have King around to protect you.  When that day comes, I’m going to cut you in half.  In the meantime, enjoy doing his dirty work.”

“You’re hauling around children from the Outskirts.  And you think your job is clean?  We’re equals in the King’s eyes.”

Zultan turned red with fury but had no retort.  The most he could do was slam his shoulder into Silvan’s as he passed through the gate into the city.  Silvan waited just outside the city for Esmarine and Castiel to catch up.

“Hi, Esmarine,” he said when she stepped into the torchlight.

She swallowed hard.  “Dad… did you talk to Zultan just now?”

“I did.  I’m sure you’ll be happy to fill me in on everything that happened as soon as I get home.”

Castiel cleared his throat.  “I assure you, Silvan, what happened�"”

“I’ll hear about it later.”  He bent down to whisper into Esmarine’s ear.  If she was afraid, she didn’t show it.  She has her mother’s strength.  She’ll be more equipped to handle this world than I am, very soon.  “I hope you gave it to him good,” he said.  She smiled brightly, but before she could say anything in response, Silvan stood up and nodded to Castiel who ushered Esmarine through the entryway.

Silvan made his way into the mass of tents and people that made up the Outskirts in front of the city.  He had always hated the clustering when he lived out here.  It made sense to be as close together as possible in order to maintain warmth, but when you didn’t trust your best friend not to steal from you, it made things difficult.

There were hundreds of tents gathered here, if not more.  The population of the Outskirts had grown larger than the population of Xantom.  A lot of these tents were deserted, but there were still more than enough for Silvan to have to search through.  It could take him until curfew to find Quintessa’s husband and return the child.  Hopefully someone out here knew her and could point him in the right direction.

Unfortunately, the people in the Outskirts didn’t seem to be in a very helpful mood.  The second Exiling Ceremony had taken a toll on their moods as well.  In the distance he could hear shouting and angry roars from a small crowd of people, surely rallying against the injustices done to them on a daily basis.  I used to lead those rallies.  Calls to arms, complaints and grievances… but nothing ever came of them.  It was all just words.  But I was smart enough to find a way to improve my situation instead of standing around complaining about it.

He stopped outside the first tent he came to.  Instead of making his presence known or trying to open the flap, he felt a rush of memories flooding back to him.  It doesn’t seem that long ago when the baby I would carry into these tents was Esmarine.  I should have spent more time with her.  But if I had, I wouldn’t have been able to spend as much time trying to barter for food and she might not have made it.  He shook the thought out of his head.  I’m never going to finish my mission if I stand around having memories.

He cleared his throat and spoke loudly, with power in his tone.  “I am here on orders of King Xanthus.  Is anyone inside?”

After a long moment, the front flap of the tent moved aside and a thin man wearing nothing but rags poked his head out.  The man looked rather unassuming, but no sooner did Silvan have the thought that this was going to be easy that the man spat on the ground at Silvan’s feet.

“The King has a problem, he should fix it himself.  The whole reason things keep getting worse is because he isn’t doing anything to fix the problems.”

“Part of doing is delegating.  He has delegated this task to me.  I am to return this child to his father, as his mother was exiled earlier this morning.”

“I didn’t know the woman, and I wouldn’t help you if I did.”

“You wouldn’t help me?  You would rather this child grew up without his parents?  Or worse, that he died out here in the cold?”

“He’d be no worse off than the rest of us.”  The man retreated back into his tent.  And that was only the first person I’ve spoken to.  Unless I’m really unlucky, this is going to be a very long day.

And things continued much in the same fashion for the next hour.  Every person he spoke to said the same thing�"they had absolutely no idea who Quintessa was.  At one point, a woman actually seemed like she was going to help.

“I didn’t know her personally, but I may have known her husband.  Did you happen to get his name?”

“She didn’t leave it.  And we forgot to ask.”

“Some leaders you are,” she said and returned to her friends.

What kind of fool would Exile a woman without bothering to find out her husband’s name?  How am I supposed to find the man if I don’t even know who to ask for?  The cries for new leadership were sounding better every minute.

Silvan was making his way closer and closer to the area he used to live.  His tent was probably still here, inhabited by someone new or by one of his old acquaintances.  I wonder if I’ll be able to recognize it.  It was my home for many years.  It would be odd if I didn’t.

He asked a few more people about Quintessa’s husband, but nobody knew anything.  It seems odd that no one has heard of her.  Either they’re lying to me to try to make my life difficult, or Quintessa lied to us about being from the Outskirts.  Which would mean she’s from the city.  Why lie?

The growing number of questions was beginning to give him a headache, but he wouldn’t be able to get any water to try to get rid of it until he returned to the city.  If he made his way to the front gate of the city and still had the baby, Xanthus would punish him for sure.

Then he stopped.  I recognize that tent.  It wasn’t his own, but that of a former acquaintance.  I’d bet Antigone still lives there.  I highly doubt she has any interest in seeing me…  Silvan quickly turned around and began heading in the opposite direction.  The last thing he needed right now was a confrontation from the former wife of Silvan’s now-dead best friend Elian.  I wish things had gone differently.  He could be a member of the King’s Guard along with me.

It had always been Silvan’s intention to bring some of his friends with him on his rise to King’s Guard.  It wasn’t just a matter of friendship, but also a matter of power.  If enough people from the Outskirts were installed as the King’s Guard, we might actually have some influence in making things better for the people out here.  And if we weren’t able to make the King see things our way, then it might be time for a change in power.

But no one else ever bothered to follow in Silvan’s footsteps.  He had paved a path for someone to rise after him, but it never happened.  If Elian hadn’t died…

But he couldn’t think about that.  What was in the past was in the past, and Silvan had to focus on the present.  He had a child to get back to his home, and a Council Meeting to attend as soon as he returned to the castle.  Surely I’ll have to report on what’s happening out here.  Xanthus isn’t going to like what I have to say.

He kept walking in the opposite direction from Antigone’s tent until he reached an area of tents he hadn’t yet questioned.  He halfheartedly approached the next tent.

After another dozen people spat at him, told him ‘no,’ or ranted about the poor state of leadership in Xantom today, he had completely given up hope.  No one knows who Quintessa is.  She’s a liar.  And now that she’s been exiled, there’s nothing we can do to find out where this baby is supposed to live.

As though the Dome could hear his thoughts, a woman came out of a tent up ahead and immediately spotted the baby in Silvan’s arms.  Her eyes opened wide.  “Where did you get that child?” she asked, approaching slowly.  Silvan took a step towards her, but the woman jumped back.  “Stay away from me!”

“I’m not here to hurt you.  I’m here on official business from King Xanthus.  I’m trying to return this child to his father.”

She seemed relieved, if still a little cautious.  “Where did you find him?”  She approached and took the baby from Silvan’s arms, cradling him in her own.

“You know who this boy is?  You know his father?”

“Yes!  Yes, his father is Phineas.  The boy went missing this morning!  We’ve been so worried.  Thank you, thank you!  Where was he?  How did you�"”

“The boy’s mother brought him�"”

“His mother?” the woman interrupted.  Her eyes opened wide.  “That’s not possible.  This boy’s mother is dead.”

“Well, maybe.  She was only Exiled this morning, so it’s possible that�"”

“No, she’s been dead for a year.  She died giving birth to him.”

Silvan stopped dead.  Quintessa isn’t even the boy’s mother.  She stole him from this man, broke into the city, killed two guards, and snuck into the castle.  All for what?  So that she could lie to us about who she was and why she was there?  What was it all for?

Before he could say anything, the woman spoke again.  “Come with me, I’ll take you to his father.”

Silvan followed the woman briskly down rows and rows of tents.  They passed the angry gathering of people that Silvan had heard earlier.  The same man was still ranting about poor leadership and a new age.  The woman hardly seemed to notice, intent on reaching Phineas’s tent as quickly as possible.  Finally, they stopped at a torn up tent near in the farthest part of the Outskirts, near the fence.  The woman darted inside.

“Hello, Rhoswen,” a man’s voice said.  “What�"”

“Phineas,” Silvan heard her say.  “It’s your son!”

A long pause.  Then, “My baby boy!  Oh, thank you! Who found him?”

“There’s a guard from the city outside your tent.  He claims that woman, Quintessa, the one who was exiled this morning�"he says she brought him into the castle with her this morning.”

Phineas and Rhoswen emerged from the tent.  Phineas held the baby carefully in his arms.

“Thank you,” Phineas said.  The man barely seemed alive.  He was so skinny his bones were clearly visible through his pale, almost transparent flesh.  His hair was as thin as his body, his beard only a few tiny wisps of hair that seemed to have been stuck to his face, rather than growing from it.  “He went missing this morning.  He can’t even crawl yet, so I didn’t think he wandered off on his own.  I honestly thought he was dead.”

“Actually, he couldn’t be healthier.  Quintessa claimed to be the boy’s mother and brought him to the castle for medical treatment.  The Healer, Willoughby, examined the boy and found absolutely nothing wrong with him.”

“I’m so glad he’s okay,” Phineas said.  “His mother died in childbirth.  I do what I can do take care of him, but it’s not easy.  We don’t get enough food and there isn’t enough left in the Outskirts to feed all of us.”

But Silvan wasn’t listening.  Why?  Why would Quintessa steal a baby and break into the castle?  Surely she knew she would get caught.  Unless she wanted to get caught…

“Thank you, Phineas.  I have completed my duties and must return to the castle and report to the King.”

“How can I repay you?”

Silvan very nearly said “nothing.”  It was the correct response, given the circumstances.  He was only following orders.  Why should this man have to repay him for returning his stolen child?  But something occurred to him and he said something else instead.

“Tell everyone what I’ve done.  Tell them that Silvan was the one who helped you.  Xanthus allowed your child to be kidnapped and Silvan is the one who brought him back.  Make sure you tell everyone.”

“Absolutely.  Everyone will know your name,” Phineas said.  “I would do absolutely anything for you, Silvan.  You know, it’s not true what they say.  Not everyone from the city is bad.”

“I am not from the city,” Silvan said.  “I am from here.  But I worked and eventually I was promoted to the King’s Guard.  I know what it’s like to live in the Outskirts.  And I aim to make it better out here for everyone.”

“You’re our savior,” Rhoswen said, her eyes lighting up.  “The Dome has sent you to save us all.”

“Maybe,” Silvan heard himself say.  “The King has come to trust me now.  I have a say in his decisions.  I am not the most powerful, but I have influence.  And I promise you�"things around here are going to change.”

Rhoswen approached him.  “If there’s anything else I can do to thank you…” she began, sliding her hand down Silvan’s chest, “…anything…” her hand dipped below his waist and squeezed; Silvan took in a deep breath, “…just let me know.”

It seems I already have a few of them on my side.  Maybe she’s right… maybe I am the savior of the Outskirts… the savior of Xantom.  I could do a better job fixing things than Xanthus is doing, and I might have just figured out how.