Crimson Ring Chapter 9

Raven clambered out of the sweltering carriage drenched in sweat. Less than a dozen strides away stood the massive structure that was the district garrison, home to strike team Dark. It was now his home too, at least until he found this mage and put a knife in her. 

The surrounding area widened his eyes, not quite comprehending what he saw. People out and about, everywhere. Civilians. They shopped at the market stands and store fronts, strolled down the street without their heads swiveling to spot the next threat. Spirits above and below, even entire families strolled the sand-swept streets with small children in tow. Store fronts displayed their wares outside, unguarded, while the owner waited inside with a smile..

Raven slowly shook his head. “What…how?”

“Potential,” said the first sword as he stepped down from the wagon. “Walk with me, Raven. You’re still a part of this team as of right now.”

Instead of hurrying into the garrison’s open gates, the team fanned out and mingled with the locals. Raven maintained pace beside the first sword as he made his way toward a child of maybe ten summers that struggled under a load balanced atop her head. 

“Hey there,” said the first sword, waving down the child.

The girl stopped and turned, then beamed with recognition. “Peacemaker,” she shouted, her voice strained voice.

“Alright little one,” said First Sword Abon. He took the sack and threw it over a shoulder. “How far are you bringing this load?”

The child gestured with a hand. “Just home. Not far. Just around the corner there.”

“Lead the way.”

“Oh!…thank you! Da will be so excited to see you,” she said, then spun and hurried ahead.

The first sword and Raven followed a respectful distance behind the girl, who had taken to skipping down the street, kicking her heels deep into the packed sand to raise great puffs of dust. 

The first sword turned to Raven. “Potential, Raven. This is the vision I have for all of Bhadestan, from the inner sphere to the outer ring districts. This is what I see for every Sovereign City on the Djuden.”

“I grew up here on these streets, Sword. Been on my own since I wasn’t much older than her. Never would have thought I’d see the day where an outer district could look like…well…this. I’m speechless. Truly.”

“Don’t be. Because your words are important. These people need to know someone cares. We corpsmen, even more so than the standard uniformed peacekeepers, have an important role. They could easily fear our specialized units. We need to tell them often. But more important than words,” he gestured to the sack, “we must show them with our actions. We must show them with our willingness to serve them, and protect them.”

Raven found he could say nothing in response. Instead, he watched as they passed person after person and saw every single one waved, nodded, thanked the man they called all called peacemaker. 

“Every day,” First Sword Abon continued, “while on patrol—on normal days—we commit ourselves to serving our community. We are not like the peacekeepers you heard during that necrologue, taking bribes and turning the other way. We take care of our district. Help in any and every way needed. Even on the hard days like today, we don’t just pull into the garrison and shut the gates behind us. We take maybe a half a bell and head out among the people.”

“So the entire district is like this?”

“Like what?”

“Well…safe. Or at least the perception of safety.”

“It is. And it’s more than just our district. Our neighboring districts as well.”

“Do you… or, I should say, we—at least for now, anyway—do we patrol those neighboring districts as well?”

“No. Well, we will never see a citizen of any district in need and do nothing, but we do not actively patrol the other districts.”

“So, how do you force this type of order to other districts?”

“That’s the key, Raven. We don’t. The people need a hand, not a fist. When they know someone is there, someone has their best interest in mind, believes in them, has faith in them, and, more than anything, someone is there to defend them…” He paused for long enough that Raven thought he might not continue. The first sword cleared his throat. “Well, in my experience, that’s all anyone needs. A chance. An opportunity. Give the people that, and they will enforce their own law and order.”

The spark of something Raven could only consider admiration had ignited for the man. And in that moment, Raven was glad he had declined Carrion’s request to terminate him.

The child turned the corner, and the pair followed close behind. Two buildings down and she darted into one of the squat structures. It turned out she lived on the second floor, inside a small single-room unit. Her parents were there, both looking to be of the same age as the first sword and perhaps a decade or so older than Raven.

Upon seeing the first sword standing in the narrow hall just outside the apartment, both parents rose from floor cushions hurried to greet him.

It was then that Raven saw the horrific burns down the full left side of the woman, visible on every part of her exposed skin. On her head, patches of hair were missing. The man beside her was missing his leg below the knee. Together, both parents hobbled over and, one at a time, embraced the first sword, placing kisses on either side of his bearded face. 

And then, to Raven’s surprise, they hobbled over to where he stood just beside the first sword and did the same to him. 

The couple invited both the first sword and Raven inside to sip from their water and eat of their food. Once again, the first sword surprised Raven by cutting short his refusal with a sharp wave of the hand. On behalf of them both, the first sword stepped across the threshold of their apartment and accepted the tiniest sip of their water from a clay mug and a slice of their flat bread, and then waved them goodbye.

It wasn’t until they had exited the building and were halfway down the block that the first sword turned to him. “It is important you do not refuse the people’s gestures of gratitude. Ever.”

“But they have so little. Why would you drink their water?”

“Dignity. Pride. These things are priceless, Raven. To deny them their tokens is to strip them of that which is most precious…” He ran a hand through his thickly coiled hair, shaking loose a thick cloud of caked in sand. “That would breed resentment, no matter how good our actions or intentions are.”

Raven nodded. “I can see how that would breed resentment.”

First Sword Abon looked over at Raven and nodded. “Yes. But,” he sighed, “there is one other lesson to be learned about that family. Unfortunate that they are.”

“Oh?”

“Those injuries. The burns, the missing limb. We see them with increasing regularity. The Desert Sons. They have a penchant for explosive devices in public spaces. Tools used to, primarily, sew fear and panic throughout the districts. These peaceful districts have been targeted at an alarming rate.”

“Wait, those Desert Sons from earlier…”

First Sword Abon nodded. “Yes. Exactly. Detonated an explosive in the district.”

“Sick bastards.”

“Sick bastard, you mean. This is the work of one person. One sick bastard of a person.”

“The woman,” Raven said with a whisper. “The one from the necrologue.”

“Yes. The Crimson Ring.”

For the better part of a bell and a half, the First Sword and Raven walked the streets of strike team Dark’s district, helping and talking to the people where and when they could. By the time they turned back to the street that housed the garrison, Raven felt a level of fulfillment on par with anything he’d experienced within Bhadestan—his city. 

Up ahead, near the main gate, Breach and Rail stood side by side and shuffling from side to side as their heads swiveled, as if searching for someone. Breach was the first person to spot the first sword, and she elbowed Rail in the side hard enough to make the smaller woman glare up at the larger corpsman. Both strikers hurried over to First Sword Abon at a jog, the edge of panic in their eyes. 

The first sword slowed to a stop as the women closed. He called out. “What’s happened?”

“It’s Titan,” Rail said, slowing to a stop and heaving. “He’s been fettered and sent below.”

The first sword recoiled. “What?”

Breach shook her head. “I knew he’d gone too quiet. The whole ride back, the oaf didn’t say much to anyone. Should have known.”

The first sword held up a hand. “Details. What’s happened?”

Rail ran a hand through the back of her head. “When we got back to garrison, we ran into ninth platoon.”

The first sword groaned, but didn’t interrupt Rail.

“He leveled both peacekeepers right there and then in the halls. Plain view of everyone. Then he marched straight to the 9th platoon’s wing.”

Breach sighed. “Stormed into their rooms, marched straight up to their first sword, and leveled the woman. Broke her jaw and knocked loose a few teeth.”

“Spirits below,” muttered the first sword.

Raven’s brows rose. “Why would he do that?”

Rail shook her head. “The necrologue. All that talk of paying off the peace and such. Guess Titan had a few bones to take up with the team responsible for that district.”

First Sword Abon brought a hand to his forehead. “Where’s the rest of Dark?”

“Mixer and Breeze are in our wing,” said Breach.

First Sword Abon nodded. “That’s fine. They can stay there. Let’s go get Titan out of that damn cell.”

The First Sword took off at a jog toward the garrison entrance, and Raven and the two strikers fell in behind him.