PROLOGUE
Do not mistake me for my mask.
You see light dappling on the water
and forgot the deep, cold dark beneath.
- Patrick Rothfuss,
The Name Of The Wind
Underneath a deceptive facade, I observed a wolf lurking in sheep's clothing. With hawk-like precision, I witnessed her deftly navigating the streets, preying on the vulnerable bovines who were oblivious to her presence. Oh, the plight of the poor! We remained perpetually watchful, yet trapped in a daze during the daylight hours.
As always, the Crob market teemed with activity and chaos. Drisket Slum dwellers flocked in from the east, eager to spend their hard-earned wages from gruelling labour on meagre sustenance. Even if the food they acquired was more putrid than the corpses strewn like litter on the streets or those piled upon the Prier Pit for mass cremation.
This was my world, where Voreans were divided into two distinct groups: the famished and the excessively indulged. While the upper class splurged in peace and luxury, we were burdened with constant yearning for things we would never be entitled to, including our own lives.
Every season brought forth a new illness, claiming countless lives. Yet, like insects, we continued to multiply and survive. At times, I could almost comprehend the reasoning behind their indifference. If death and destitution could not eradicate our existence or deter us from behaving like feral creatures, then what hope was there? Perhaps it was best to let us fester like a sore on a sick pig. One that was never intended to be part of the feast. We were nothing more than savages, ready to kill one another for a meagre patch of space. Today, we fought over discarded produce from the capital; tomorrow, we might resort to boiling broths made from our own deceased.
This was my world, teetering on the edge of starvation. A fragile line separated us from becoming monsters, a line so translucent and tenuous that it threatened to vanish at any moment. If not for the conceit of the affluent class, who fed on their imagined superiority and false accolades, we would readily transform into the very monsters they perceived us to be. And truth be told, many of us had already succumbed to our monstrous natures. I, too, had become a monster.
A wave of shame and disgust washed over me as I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the muddy waters beneath my feet. For a moment, I recoiled, tempted to retreat to the shadows. But I fought against it, forcing myself to inhale the thick, pungent air that enveloped us—an odour born of my own people—and pressed forward.
This was a lesson I had learned early in life. We all existed submerged beneath an invisible sea, struggling to reach the surface despite the burning ache in our chests. And so, I persisted.
The effort required to maintain an air of nobility weighed heavily on my neck and spine. The layers of silk skirt draped around my waist burdened each step, sinking me into the soil. Yet, I refused to allow my gait to falter. I, too, had a role to play. Just as the wolf knew how to disguise herself as a sheep, I, the sheep, must embody the essence of a wolf.
Not for myself or the prying eyes around me, but for her.
Lifting the hem of my skirt, I callously shoved aside an elderly man in my path, striding purposefully ahead. I could feel their questioning stares upon me, their thoughts conveyed through lowered gazes.
What was a noble lady doing in the Corb market?
Yet, no one dared to ask, not even the patrolling officers. They all remained blind. They refrained from scrutinising me too closely, for their own safety. To lay eyes upon a young aristocratic lady was a punishable offence in our world. Peasant girls could be gutted in the middle of the street, and the elite would not flinch. But heaven forbid if the gaze of a commoner brushed against the robes of a lady.
Anger surged within me, heating my face. I reminded myself that the officers had nothing to fear from the aristocracy, so their placement was inconsequential. I scolded myself for such bitterness as I walked away from the main street, seeking refuge among the labyrinth of stalls. I manoeuvred around them, my eyes scanning the crowd in search of a familiar mane of tawny brown hair.
After much searching, I spotted her, still immersed in the throng of people. The foul stench of decay and perspiration did not deter or hinder her as she ventured deeper into the crowd, effortlessly blending in with the sluggish onlookers who could ill afford to make purchases but sought solace in the sights of the market.
I kept my unwavering gaze fixed upon her, observing as she drifted toward a group of mine workers. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I witnessed her deftly dance through the jubilant cluster. They must have received extra wages for their toil in the treacherous parts of the mines. I watched with amusement as she adroitly dipped her hands into their pockets, her actions swift and seamless.
She was fast and nimble.
A smile decorated my face, fueled by a sense of pride. It never failed to entertain me or evoke a mad laugh that begged to be released. Should I be proud of what I have accomplished? Of transforming a noble lady into a street urchin? Or should I tremble at the consequences of sharpening the wolf's fangs?
When she briefly turned, flaunting the jute pouch that now weighed heavily with pilfered coins, I allowed myself a moment of unashamed satisfaction. This would ensure warmth in my bed and sustenance for a week.
Hours drifted by until Riviera discovered me nestled under the comforting shade of a grandiose tree, lost in the embrace of slumber. Despite sensing her approaching footsteps, I allowed myself to remain in a state of languid repose, choosing to withhold any further attention. A half-day of trailing after her had proved more than sufficient, and yet, try as I might, her boisterously raucous laughter pierced through the haze of my semi-drowsy state, shattering my tranquillity.
With a weary sigh, I sat up and directed a scowl of disapproval towards her. "Could you not bellow like a famished Drisketian every time you manage to filch a mere Ten Ens?" I reprimanded, playfully flinging handfuls of withered leaves in her direction. However, her infectious chuckling continued unabated, impervious to my feeble attempt to quell it.
After her laughter finally subsided, she proceeded to aggravate me further by vigorously shaking my jute pouch, provoking the sound of coins merrily rebounding within its confines.
"Ah, but this, my dear, is a twenty-ens bounty!" she trilled, her voice brimming with exultation. I couldn't help but roll my eyes in response, dismissing her theatrics with an air of nonchalance.
"Do the illustrious Aetis Family members possess any inkling of their cherished daughter's uncouth clamour over purloined ens?" I retorted, effectively silencing her in an instant. She despised having her carefully constructed façade shattered by an unyielding mirror.
For a fleeting moment, she seemed poised to unleash a biting retort, but then her eyes sparkled mischievously, and a wicked smile danced across her countenance. Without a shred of warning, she carelessly flung the pouch onto my lap, treating it as a mere receptacle brimming with insignificant stones, and delved into her blouse's recesses to retrieve something nestled within her breast pocket.
This time, articulation flowed effortlessly from her lips. "Soon, my dearest friend, you too shall be relieving yourself upon a bog worth a thousand Ens... provided we triumph," she declared, her eyes gleaming with an intoxicating blend of anticipation and devilish delight. With a palpable sense of expectancy, she pressed into my palm a warm, mysterious piece of paper that I eagerly snatched away.
Transfixed, I held the document before me, allowing its weighty significance to permeate my consciousness. Time itself seemed to halt as I absorbed every word, etching them indelibly into the recesses of my memory. An internal struggle ensued as I fought against the vertigo-inducing sensation of hurtling into an abyss of uncharted possibilities, striving to regain my equilibrium amid the tempestuous maelstrom of emotions. Meanwhile, Riviera, buoyed by her own euphoria, continued to hum and sway blissfully at the periphery. She basked, wrenching the ground from beneath my feet.
"After all these years!" she sang with unbridled glee. Her voice brimmed with boundless anticipation. Yet, I found myself gradually succumbing to an eerie stillness, akin to the calm before an impending storm. My gaze remained steadfastly fixated on the document, as if my very essence were imprinted upon its surface. My lungs yearned for air, as if I were caught in the throes of rapid respiration while simultaneously struggling to draw breath. An internal earthquake rumbled within the depths of my being, leaving me uncertain whether this tremor stemmed from the ecstasy of possibility or the gnawing tendrils of trepidation.
For the longest time, I had harboured only a tentative desire to believe in Riviera's audacious schemes. Fear had held me captive, preventing me from daring to embrace the realm of possibilities, from envisioning a future in which her dreams materialised. Until this moment, it felt as though we were two girls merely indulging in whimsical games. Yet, the name cradled within my trembling hands bestowed upon it an unmistakable reality.
"You're trembling, Sana!" Riviera's lilting laughter jolted me back to the present. Indeed, I was quaking, my body betraying the turmoil that swirled within. She knelt beside me, her radiant smile unwavering, and seized my shoulders, shaking me ever so gently, causing my gaze to waver momentarily before locking onto her deep, emerald eyes.
"I have found it!" she exclaimed with fervour. "Our bloodlines do not bear the insignia of clan names. Without a name, how could others truly know who you are? Fear not, for I shall bestow upon you a new identity, a fresh persona, and you shall become one of us. None shall ever again cast disdainful glances upon you."
An obscure memory, long relegated to the recesses of my mind, resurfaced to haunt me. Her words echoed in my head, each syllable carrying a weighty promise. She would make it happen. Every fragment of her longing, Riviera would breathe life into it. And now, so too could I. I drew upon the hope and strength imbibed from the name I clutched so tightly, liberating my own desires to roam free. No longer would I cower in the shadows. I yearned to be an integral part of her grand tapestry, of the pledges she had made to me.
My trembling gradually subsided as I reached out to clutch her hand, my voice a mere whisper laden with determination. "What must we do now?" I inquired, my eyes locked with hers. In that moment, her jade orbs took on an icy hue, and her voice carried an ethereal quality as she responded, "We extinguish her existence and claim that name as your own."
