Carts were pulled by vicious looking Canis as I approached the divide.  Each one was brimming with merchandise, or can they even be called that anymore?  Was Joran a product?  Or was she more like a delicacy to most?

“...Look at that critter there… he’s eyeing us…”  Some of the hunters noticed my strange looks, and why wouldn’t they?  It’s normal for most to ignore the carts and the people inside of them; anyone giving off stares isn’t normal.  They’ve got something wrong with them.  Like me, there’s something wrong with me.  That curious feeling inside which usually beckoned me to places I didn’t belong now pricks at me with every slave I lock eyes with.  It must be finding new ways of getting me into trouble.  

It’s my own fault I ran into her.  I could have avoided that building and that street for the rest of my life, and yet I found my way there again for a second time.  Now she troubles me even more than when we first met.  I guess that was her intention, making me feel guilty enough to help. She must not know the Wharf as well as I do.  It’s pure coincidence that she found one of the few people in this city who’d actually give a shit about her and her sister’s plight.  Her and that damn sister.

“AGH, DAMMIT!”

“Fuck, kid!  You on something?!”  

Shit, I screamed that out loud.  

 

The place I was in now looked like a large empty square in the middle of the road.  One would be hard pressed to enter the square as the crowd here sprawled in all directions.  Someone unprepared would be crushed or ripped apart from twelve different ways, and not one person in that crowd would stop to check if you were okay, lest they be trampled as well.  Buildings made up the four corners of this square, and just beyond them was the elevator; a towering structure that stood above everything, and was only outclassed by the Wall itself.  At the top of that, a person can see every horizon spanning outwards from the corner of the Wall.

At the shops and building corners stood guards, not unlike those at Uncle Mauz’s diner.  They uphold an invisible boundary that neither side is willing to cross.  

On my side is the West Wharf, and Crenmite’s territory.  Adjacent to that is the North, belonging to someone just as shrewd I’m sure.  Certainly an enemy clever enough that Crenmite isn’t willing to cross that invisible boundary either.  Often, this line moves to-and-fro, and every time it ends up in the same place it started, here in the middle of this busy square.  That’s what earned it its namesake as the Divide.

 

“Uh, excuse me?”  I went to one of the corners while avoiding the crowd and approached one of the Abyssian’s guarding the line.  He stood with another on one of the corners and played a betting game using dice.  It doesn’t seem like he’s winning.  “You know where I can find a person named Santra?”

“Beat it, kid!”

“W-wait, it’s just that I have a package for them from Captain Mauz and I don’t know which building it is.”  I opened my satchel and revealed the contents to the Abyssian whose ears had perked slightly upon hearing my uncle’s name, just as I expected.

“Hmph!  It’s the building with the balls.”

“The… balls?”

“Yeah!  The stone balls around the trim!  Are you stupid?”

“O-oh, thanks–”

“Whatever.”  I stepped away from the guards and looked all around me.  Just as he had said, on one road feeding into the square was a gray building which had stone balls decorating the trim of the window sills.  The trim looked like a squiggly curve with the balls adorning the highest points after every dip.  

I noticed that none guarded this building's large brown doors, and there was no line to the inside as I made my approach.  The doors themselves were worn from time, but they still opened with ease.  Inside was a long waiting room with staircases on either side, and at the end was a desk where an Abyssian sat reading to himself.  The interior was just as gray as the exterior, with the only light coming from the windows on both sides of the entrance.

“Hello–”

“Whaddya want?”  The Abyssian eyed me all over, and with an unamused glare he then returned to his reading, “I know you aren’t here to rent.”

“N-no, none of that.  Could you tell me which room is Santra’s?”

“Sigh, the whorehouse is on the top floor, but you can’t afford it.”

“Whorehouse?!”

“Yeah, so I let them set up shop in the building, so what?  With this economy, I’ll take whatever I can get so long as they pay the rent on time…”  The Abyssian let out a deep sigh before turning the page on his book, “You gonna scram now or what?”

“Top floor… got it.”  I moved away from him and into one of the staircases.  The steps were stone, and much sturdier than what I was used to.  Each level of the building was marked by a hastily painted number next to their respective doors, and I ascended past the many levels to find this building’s brothel with each level having new noises.  Some had children crying, some had couples yelling at one another, and a few were eerily quiet.

Brothels… brothels are everywhere in this city, and some of them have slaves like the factory; I've known that for as long as I’ve known about brothels.  Does the master of a brothel permit a slave to choose their company, or does the master make that choice for them?  That is, a slave belongs to their master the same way my treasures belong to me, and their use is decided in much the same way.  That’s how things are.  And if I ripped my shirt or tore up some nick-nacks then it’s my right to do so, and who would tell me differently?  Joran?  She’d have me believe there’s something deeper to understand, with her bruises and scrapes; is she mistreated, or is she simply being misused?  Like a slave in a brothel.  

You know, some brothels don’t allow certain practices, even when done with a slave.  Does that mean the owners of those brothels care for their slaves like they were people?  No, that’s not right; it’s common sense not to misuse a slave the same way a chef doesn’t misuse a knife or how a brick mason doesn’t misuse his furnace.  That’s what it is, it has to be… thinking about it, why did I tell her about Candor?  What compelled me to do so?

That familiar compulsion didn’t tug at me; in fact, it was as quiet as it had ever been when I’d started venting.  

 

“Ah.”  Before I knew it I had reached the top. The staircase ended on this floor, and unlike the lower levels, the door at the end of this one had no number.  It was just a brown door marked by a red streak through its center.  Giving it a knock, I heard faint thumps slowly approach the door.

“Nnn~ yes?”  A slovenly looking woman appeared from behind the door.  One of her eyes dropped to the floor and stayed there, while the other seemed barely focused on what was in front of her.  Both were glazed and red, and when this woman opened her mouth her breath reeked of fish and a subtle chemical smell.  “N~ you here for some fun, young man?  It’ll– nnn~ cost you~”

“Actually, I’m here–”

“Just so you knnnn~ow, we only keep clean girls, and no slaves either, little guy.”  She gave me a smirk, revealing the full extent of her brown teeth.

“I’m– I’m looking for–”

“Looking for something… taboo? Hn~ hn~ hn~ well we got some finn~e men too–”

“I have a package for Santra!”

“For Santra?  Well why didn’t you say so, ufufufu~”  She waved me inside and scraped her feet away from the door after closing it, “Santra’s in their with her little snowscut friend…”

“Her friend?  Does she not work here?”

“Fufu~, don’t get it confused now.  They all live and work here, young man~  even her friend.”  The lady walked over to the door to Santra and opened it, then looked back at me, “I work here too, you know, hehe~”  Slowly, she stepped away from the open door,  “Don’t get lost in there, little guy~”

Stepping inside, I squeezed through a small hallway with a closet, and into an open room; although the walls were still gray like the building, someone had painted them with blue skies and golden fields.  Little Canis were painted holding some objects that looked like thinned half-circles, which they weaved through the golden reeds.  To their right were brown pillars, all arranged equally from each other and they also formed a field of sorts in the mural.  The floor was covered with empty Beat vials, much like uncle’s study.  And at the center sat a bed with two–

“!”  Two unclothed women, holding each other as they lay on the bed.  

 

Is it normal to sleep around in the nude?!  This is too much.  The Cuni girl especially, sat outwards of the large Canis girl who had her arms wrapped around the Cuni; I guess that Canis must be Santra.  The Cuni’s tits however– were… uhm– 

My feet moved on their own and brought me dangerously close to the girls.  From the looks of things, the two were stoned and fell asleep.  I never realized how soft something like that could look.  I can easily reach out… reach out and–

“You’ll have to pay if you want to feel ‘em up, little guy~”

“Ack!  I-I wasn’t going to–”

“Mmm~ I should make you pay just for looking.”  The slovenly woman approached the bed where I was standing and shook the Cuni girl’s thigh, “Looks like they got zonked out of their minn~ds, tsk, lucky girls…”  The lady took a step back and stopped at the entrance to the room then turned to watch me.

“What are you–”

“Well I have to make sure you don’t assault my girls, ufufufu~”

“A-assault?!  I wasn’t going to–”

“You said you have a package right?  Nnn~ just leave it by the mirror.”

“R-right.”  My eyes darted around the room in search of the mirror while trying to avoid the two naked women on the bed, “...The mirror…”

“Hn~ hn~ in the bathroom.”  She pointed to the far left corner of the room where there was a door that I had missed which led into their bathroom.  I carefully moved past the clothes and Beat vials that lined the floor before standing in front of the door. “Don’t poke around in there–”

“I wasn’t going to!”

 

The little bathroom was cramped; appearing even more so from the perfumes and soaps strewn about.  Inside was a mess of clothes, some appearing to belong to men who’d visited these girl’s before.  Light shone past the tub and into the room, and left of the tub was that mirror which the lady must’ve been talking about.  It had a piece missing at the bottom of it that a large crack which split the mirror in half originated from, and in front of it was a small shelf that I suppose I was meant to lay the package on

On the shelf was a collection of things like lotion, hairpins, and… a small porcelain figurine.  It wore what appeared to be a skirt, and held one of its arms at its torso while dipping its hand from its other arm, outstretched and raised above its featureless head.  Its feet had been snapped off… snapped off…

In my pocket, I felt around for the music box I had taken with me.  The burned face of a Canis girl on the lid, and the snapped feet of a ballerina on the inside.  I opened the lid, and placed the figurine onto the porcelain feet inside the box… a perfect match.  This music box is Santra’s.  Should I leave it with her?  I know I was told to hang onto it… though normally I wouldn’t be so willing to part with one of my treasures; having found the Canis and the missing ballerina, it no longer feels important to me.  Certainly, its only real value would be from the actual music part of the box that it’s missing.  

 Gently, I placed the ballerina and the music box on the shelf, and removed the package I was sent to deliver.  Uncle Mauz might get mad that I left this here, but at the end of the day it’s just an empty box, and… the mystique around it is gone.  That curious tingle that drove me to rifle through the mounds of garbage in Trash flickered away.  It was indeed a fickle compulsion.  

My nick-nack, gone from me.  Something I was furious about back at Trash when Kibra had stolen from me, and the only thing I can compare to… to the slaves and their masters.   

“I’m ready to go now.”

“Nnn~ sure you don’t want some fun?  If you can let go of that scabbard you’re carrying, I’ll let you have a round with that cutie Cuni as soon as she wakes up.  Ufufu~, you can even have a go with the mige before she wakes up if you want it that way, little guy~”

“Well… w-wait a minute!  No!  I did what I came to do.”

“Mmm~, your loss~”

 

Would a master return a slave to its home?  In fact, how is a slave freed in the first place?  They take that brand with them everywhere for the rest of their days, and even if they’re not branded it’s not as though a master in the Wharf is interested in losing an asset.  Come to think of it, I’ve never met a freedman; not here at the Divide, or at Trash, or the old factory, or in the 1088 Barrio.

“Are… you going to go, young man?”

“Hm? Ah, sorry.  I was thinking about something.”

“Fu~ you furrow your brows when you think.  Don’t think too hard, you’ll wrinkle your pretty face~”  The lady and I walked outside of the room and into the main hall.  It appears as though the entire top floor is used for this business of her’s.  She must earn a lot to afford the rent.  Each door was marked with signs scrawled with letters chipped into them, and next to the doors were books hanging from chains nailed into the door frames.

She claimed that her girls were clean, but how could they be clean in such a rotten place?  The smell from Beat was overwhelmed by the smell of her breath, which only grew more distant as I walked to the exit.  The floor and the woman; Trash can’t compare to either of these two stenches.

Rushing down the stairs I was soon back to the gray lobby where he reading Abyssian from before was no longer behind his desk, as now he was poking his head out of the building’s large doors.

“What’re you doing?”

“Some kinda fight in the square.  You’d best stay inside, kid.  If they move the line again you could get caught up in it.”  Despite his warnings, I stuck my head past him.  The busy square had come to a standstill, and a crowd of people swarmed around something at the center.  “H-hey!”  I pushed past the Abyssian and towards the corner.  The dice playing guards had stopped their game, and the both of them sent vicious warning’s in the form of a scowl across the line towards the Abyssians of the North Wharf.  All guards at the Divide stood ready with their hands on the handle’s of their cinqs.

 

“What’s going on?”

“Huh?!  Oh, it’s you again.”  The guard which directed me before was particularly menacing, “Just some Butchers ignoring the embargo, damn mutts.”

“Butchers… do you mean the Falk- er, whatever they’re called.”

“Falkrin Butchers.”

“That’s the one!”  The guard rolled his eyes, and returned to staring down the guards on the other side of their invisible line.  From where we stood, it was difficult to see what was happening in the middle of the gathering crowd.  I could hear yelling, but there were so many people it was hard to tell what they were yelling about over the chatters.  Half a cage could be seen over the heads of the crowd; a cage like those pulled in carts by hunters.  The Butcher’s must’ve been trying to pull one from the North Wharf into the West.

“Shit.”  Beside me I could hear the distress of the two guards as both drew their weapons from their scabbards.

“Why are you–”  My question was answered before I finished asking it.  The crowd at the center of the square quickly dispersed revealing what these experienced Abyssians already knew.  Crenmite’s guards had drawn their cinqs and pointed them at the Butcher’s accompanying their slave cart.  The Falkrin Butcher’s seemed reluctant to leave; and now that things had escalated, they along with the north Abyssians guarding the line had all readied themselves for a fight that was sure to come.  Unlike before, things around us had gone dead silent as the argument at the square's center became more heated.

“I already told you, lot!  You can’t stop us from moving a cart!  The only rules were not to buy and not to sell!”

“You must be half-mongrel if you think we’re letting this cart go into the city!”

“I don’t want to hear that from a mangy critter!”  One of the Butchers stepped forward towards the guards holding the cart in place.

“Another step and I’ll have your hide!”

“Then fucking do it!”  The Canis who stepped forward gripped the handle of his bludgeon that swung from his waist.  In turn, one of the guards holding the cart let go, and aimed their blade at the Butchers.  The other Abyssians also advanced closer to the Butchers, who by now were surrounded with their backs against their cart.

The north guards crept closer as the confrontation grew tense.  They appeared hesitant to help the Butchers; nevertheless, they had drawn their cinqs should things turn for the worse.

“Tsk, look at that cage.  Those rats really think they can get away with selling that crap?”  What the dice playing guard pointed to was slaves inside the cage on the cart.  I had failed to notice due to the fight, but the Cuni inside the cage were missing parts.  One looked like it had its ear chewed off, while several had a missing arm or a missing hand; one Cuni in particular had an empty hole where her eye should be.

“What… happened to them?”  The guard did a double take as if he’d expected me to be gone by now.

“Why do you think they’re called butchers?”  He spit on the ground next to his feet, “These bastards‘ll take a slave and cut off its pieces.  They say they do it as some kind of punishment.”

“For slaves they’re selling… I understand not wanting to buy them damaged.  But don’t people usually accept runaways in any condition?”

“Kid, it’s all about money at the end of the day.  No one’s going to buy a slave at full price with its parts missing, and no one wants a slave returned to them with a missing arm; it’d be worth more to them dead.”  The guard looked over his shoulders, then spoke to me with a hushed voice, “It’s for that exact reason that slaves from the Butcher’s are so cheap.  That’s why there’s an embargo.”

“But why would they… butcher their slaves just to sell for less?”

“So the buyers can’t sell for more, kid.  A damaged slave becomes a new product set apart from regular slaves, and that means the Butchers control the market; they are the market.  If someone buys from them then tries to sell, they’d have to sell for less assuming they can sell a damaged slave at all.  Now that might mean the Falkrin lose some business, but at the end of the day they’re still the sole supplier.  So long as their price for damaged slaves is far lower than the price of every other normal slave, they’ll always have buyers.  And what’s more, any captured slave they return becomes a damaged one; a damaged one that can’t be sold and can only do half as much as a regular slave usually.  You know what they do then?  Buy the damaged slave they captured from its desperate master, then sell it for their normal price!  They expect to be paid for returning the runaway too, haha~”

“That’s fucked.”

“Fucked?  Nothin’ fucked about it, kid; diabolical, sure, but business is business.”  Maybe to him it’s just business.  Joran… when she– if she gets captured, along with her sister… will something like this happen to her?  

Images flashed in my mind of that strong willed girl without an ear or an arm.  Each one looked just like the Cuni slaves trapped in the cart.  Trapped.  They’re trapped, and the people shouting around them are arguing about where they can be moved or sold.  That’s what’s “fucked”.

 

“This embargo was meant to set things right in the market, but so far it’s only caused problems like this one.”  The guard nodded his head at the confrontation around the cart, “These damn splitlips don’t know when to quit.”

The Abyssians left holding the cart began pushing it across their invisible line.  As the wheels moved back, the north Abyssians withdrew their own cinqs.  A single foot set across their line would end in another bloody brawl.  

“Get yer hands off of that!”  A Butcher jumped out and grabbed one of the Abyssian’s pushing the cart by the arm.

“What did I just fucking say?!”  The Abyssian holding the line yanked the Canis by his shirt collar and brought him to the ground.  A few other Abyssians nearest him broke the formation as well, and surrounded the Falkrin Butcher.  As he tried to lift himself off the ground, one of the Abyssian grabbed his hand and lifted him up by the arm, then ran their blade down his forearm.

“EE~ AGH!”

“The rest of you better not fucking move!”  The hurt Canis fell back to the ground after having his arm slit, holding tight to the gash that squeezed its blood between his fingers, while the Abyssians that surrounded him began stomping all over his body.  The Butcher flipped himself over and held his arms over his head, but one good kick landed into his ribs causing him to slink onto his side.  The guards stomped their feet into his back, his ribs, his head, and his legs while the Abyssian that slit his arm reeled back and delivered a finishing kick to his head.  Some of the Canis surged forward into the line of Abyssian’s; each one lunged with their arms held high to break the line, but each one was assuredly pushed back and held in place with the point of blades that every guard held forth.

“Hah!  That’ll show ‘em!”  Laughs were shared from all around by the Abyssian guards while his muffled cries grew silent.  His friends regrouped, trembling with anger at the sight, not helped by the laughs and jeers of their enemy.  Their cart had been pushed back across the line while the others were distracted, and the Butcher’s remaining were now in the open with their cart of slaves far behind them.  The Canis bared their fangs and drew their bludgeons; even from where I’m standing, I can hear their dull growls.  “Ah, looks like the show’s about to start.  You better clear out, kid.”  The guards next to me left their corner and began stepping out into the square, along with the other Abyssian guards who were, to this point, just watching.  He might be right, I should get out of here while I still can–

“How come you’re always where the trouble is, Mackie?”

“F-Fareal?!”  From behind me came the familiar, beastly face of Fareal and a few dozen Abyssians and Ovis in tow.

“Hmm~ did you think I was someone else?”

“N-no, how could I– I mean… why are you here?”

“We’re all over the place today.  So many troublemakers trying to test the new embargo… sigh, it’s been aw~fully stressful.”  The accompanying guards he brought joined the ranks of the Abyssians in the middle of the square and with the Abyssians hanging back at the street corners.  The dice playing guard standing next to me was especially attentive when he saw Fareal, stopping dead in his tracks and dropping his sour gambler attitude for a more soldierly one.  “I wouldn’t worry too much.  This happens all the time; just another group of assholes testing the powers here in the west.”  

The Canis still stood their ground, and fierce teeth were flashed by each of them as their growls permeated the air; though like Fareal said, the Butcher’s animosity receded.  Sure enough, the worries of everyone present diminished after the Butcher’s saw the overwhelming numbers Fareal had brought along.  They cautiously stowed their weapons back into their belt, and a few slowly approached their unconscious friend.  In what felt like a moment that would last forever, I let out my breath as the Butcher’s retreated to their cart on the other side of the Divide, dragging their beaten friend along with them.  “See?  They may talk a big game, but a mutt is a mutt.  Show a little strength and they roll over~”

“T-thank you, Senior Fareal!”  The dice playing Abyssian stood at attention.

“No problem.” Fareal hand waved the guard to relax, “Remember your duty~”

“Yes sir!”  Fareal sighed and looked at the empty square that was starting to gain back the traffic it had before.

“Today’s been especially rough on us.  There was no warning about this embargo.”  Fareal put his hands on his back and leaned outward, giving off a very loud, guttural pop. 

“You’re the only one uncle has running around?”

“Hoh~ you doubt my ability?”

“It’s not that I doubt your ability, but there’s no way one person can handle all this.”  If there’s been fights like this all over, then surely there must be more than just Fareal leading his group.  

“And you’d be right, except that one person is handling all of this.  The 1088 is right next to the Divide and the north; know what that means?”  I simply gave a shrug.  It’s obvious from his lofty attitude that he doesn’t care what I answer, he already has a response in mind, “It means we’re lucky to get any support at all.”  Fareal waved his hand all around him to point out the men he’d brought along, “Only when they go through us will the powers at be decide to take extra measures; hell… some might be hoping for that.  Waiting for the Captain to slip, then move in.”

“By ‘some’, do you mean…”

“Haha~, maybe the ‘powers at be’.”

“Now don’t say that.  The 1088 is uncle’s just as much as it is Crenmite’s.”

“But it’s not the only piece of the west that’s Crenmites, now is it~”  He picked at his ear and flicked away a piece of wax, “He loses some money and some ground, but he gains a good night’s rest.  I overheard some whispers that he’s starting to lose sleep over the Capt–”  Fareal's ears twisted all around, picking up the noise of the city that most wouldn’t be able to hear, “Sounds like some more work, hah…”  He called out to the men he brought, and left a few to reinforce the line as the others gathered behind him.

“You gonna be okay, Mackie?  Not gonna get into any more trouble, are we?”

“I’ll be fine–”

“Hmph.  Tell the Captain that the line is holding when you see him!”  Fareal’s voice trailed off as he and his men grew further from the Divide.  A fight was narrowly avoided, but I can’t help but wonder for how long that will be the case.  Fareal wasn’t lying when he said this happens all the time; people are always testing Crenmite just as they test Uncle Mauz and the other chief administrators.  They can’t always spare the resources to protect their friends while they’re busy protecting their own interests.
As long as their business is running smoothly, they’ll have the power they need to hold on.  Maybe that’s why Crenmite is constantly inserting himself into new businesses and trade.  All these guards… their weapons, their food, even the bed they sleep on has to be paid for by Crenmite and the other admins, or else there would be no “power in the west”.  In any case, the square was returning to normal with its heavy traffic, and even the guards were back to their game of dice.  I’ve made my deliveries; it’s finally time to see uncle.