Delta's Heart, part 1
This story was originally written in Spanish, but to be submitted to the fantasy contest, it has been translated into English. Apologies for any translation errors as this is not my native language, and I have had to use AI for assistance.
The girl pulled back her hood from her eyes to see the city entrance. Northees Brinon loomed before her, majestic and crowded, the main mercantile city in the center of the continent. The high stone walls, worn by time, appeared as an ancient, old, and tired guardian watching over the unceasing flow of travelers and merchants.
The entrance before her led to Delta Bajo, the poorest district of the city, the perfect place for a stranger seeking to remain unnoticed and find her target without drawing attention. She had planned to stay for a few weeks and then return with her companions, but she knew that fate often played its own cards.
The lowest sector of Northees Brinon stretched around her like a labyrinth of poorly paved streets, if they were paved at all, where loose stones and mud mixed with the remnants of the day’s goods, almost at the end of their trading hours. The buildings, though made of ancient stone, showed signs of decay, with vines climbing up the walls and broken windows covered with boards.
The bustle of the market at the West Gate enveloped her, a sea of voices and sounds that seemed endless. Vendors eagerly hawked their goods, from spices of every variety and not-so-fresh fruits to less colorful but sturdy-looking fabrics and iron tools. Passersby hurried from one side to the other, immersed in their own concerns, oblivious to the hooded figure moving among them.
Northees Brinon, with its vibrant life and dark corners, offered the anonymity she needed. Kimbra had left behind what had become her home, out of the shadow of the Red Emperor. Now, in the heart of the continent, the pressure of the empire was palpable on every corner. Monitored by the Emperor’s guards, in their burgundy and gold uniforms.
Kimbra pulled her hood tightly as she felt the furtive glances of the guards upon her. The market’s clamor tried to mask the danger that seemed to lurk around every corner. Her steps quickened, aware that each second in Northees Brinon increased the risk of being discovered.
She stopped for a moment, letting the aroma of spices and freshly cooked food envelop her. She pulled her hood back slightly, letting her thick, dark curls fall free and allowing the cool breeze, mingled with the scents, to caress her face. The setting sun filtered through the clouds, casting long, distorted shadows on the streets. Kimbra scanned her surroundings, looking for any sign of danger.
A group of children ran past her, laughing and playing, briefly reminding her of the innocence she had long since lost. Kimbra pressed her lips together, wanting to forget the beatings that had once tried to “redirect” her, strengthening her resolve. She couldn’t afford distractions. Every step she took in Brinon brought her closer to her mission, but also deeper into the Empire, nearer to the Emperor’s clutches.
She walked to a charm stand, where an old man with bright eyes watched her with an enigmatic smile.
“Are you looking for something in particular, young lady?” the man asked, his soft voice contrasting with the chaos around him.
Kimbra shook her head, offering a slight smile. The old man studied her closely, as if he could see beyond her appearance and read the hidden secrets in her heart, almost undoing all her defenses.
“Brinon is a good place to lose oneself or find oneself,” the old man said with an enigmatic smile, before Kimbra continued on her way.
She ventured further into the depths of the district, where the alleys narrowed and the scant sunlight barely reached the ground. The smells changed, becoming more acrid, with a mix of refuse and dampness, possibly due to the amount of clothing precariously hung on old ropes everywhere, and the barely paved ground remained wet, making the mud under her boots difficult to navigate, as if the very earth was trying to trap her. Each step in Delta Bajo made her feel more vulnerable, closer to falling into the clutches of the empire.
The lamplighters were lighting the street lamps with quick flicks of their wrists, sending precise flames into the lamp compartments, creating more contrast between the illuminated areas and the dark ones. Shadows between the ruined buildings seemed to move, and Kimbra had to remind herself not to look back.
The people moving through these areas appeared more reserved, with furtive glances and swift movements. Colors in clothing were scarce, and most garments were worn or faded from exposure to the sun and the passage of time.
Kimbra glanced at her reflection in a cracked, dust-filled window. She wore a deep green suede cloak, well-dyed. She was dressed in lightweight trousers and a blouse of soft, airy fabrics, and a quick observation in the market had made it clear that women, at least in Delta Bajo, did not wear trousers, no matter how poor they were… She stood out in this area more than she could afford to.
She found a modest inn, with a wooden sign barely hanging by nails. “The Grace of the Emperor,” the sign read, in faded letters. The façade had likely once been a bright burgundy, with the wooden veins exposed. But now the paint was faded and chipped in places, revealing the bricks underneath, and the aging, cracked, and possibly rotting wood framed the rest like a frame around a decaying artwork.
She entered and was greeted by an atmosphere heavy with smoke and murmurs, coming from the small bar at the back, where no one paid her the slightest attention.
The interior was in better shape, but not by much. The walls followed the exterior’s aesthetic, with faded and chipped red paint, decorated with copper sconces holding candles that were almost extinguished but fought to shine against their tragic end. Many candles had already done so, with melted wax cascading from the sconces almost touching the floor.
The innkeeper, a burly man with acne-scarred cheeks, watched her with suspicious eyes from the reception area. A dark wooden counter in the nook at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the two upper floors. It didn’t escape him that she was being scrutinized from head to toe, making it clear that she was not a regular client.
She needed, as soon as possible, to find new clothes.
“Good evening, sir. I need a room for a week… or two,” Kimbra said in a sweet, measured voice, pulling out a small pouch from her cloak and placing a handful of silver coins on the counter.
The innkeeper looked at the amount, did a quick calculation, and nodded, handing her a rusty key with a tag indicating the room, without asking any questions and returning his attention to a brightly colored flyer.
Kimbra climbed the creaky stairs to the first floor. It seemed the faded red color reigned throughout the building, along with the peeling paint and rotting wood.
Her room was a small space with a simple bed and a window overlooking a narrow alley on the side of the building. She assumed she would have to use the public baths in the area, but she didn’t mind.
She closed the door behind her and checked the window. Any mistake could cost her more than just an uncomfortable night. The Empire did not forgive those who tried to hide.
She flopped onto the bed, closing her eyes for a moment and smelling the musty dampness of the room. She had finally arrived in Northees Brinon, but the vastness of the city and the complexity of her mission were beginning to weigh on her shoulders. She knew Brinon was large, but now, being in the poorest and smallest district of the city, she realized how serious her mistake was in underestimating it. She was clear about her objective and could not raise suspicion. Each day she spent there increased the risk of being discovered, and she didn’t know where to start, whom to avoid, or exactly what questions to ask…
She began to feel anxiety without realizing it. A lump in her throat, cold sweat on her body, and unease in her hands were signs that she was starting to regret her decision to come alone.
She couldn’t do it.
She sat up abruptly, unfastened her cloak, and let it fall to the floor. She opened the window and felt a slight breeze, hoping it would be cooler at this hour, but it wasn’t, due to the rooftops and cobblestones that had started to overheat from the sun during these early summer days.
It didn’t help at all, so she unbuttoned the neckline of her blouse and rolled up her sleeves, hoping to reduce the heat that was overwhelming her.
She needed to go back and ask for help; she needed someone by her side. She couldn’t do it alone.
After a quick glance at her cloak, she remembered something. She unrolled a small map she had hidden in one of the inner pockets, marked with key places she needed to visit. The Xs and red circles on the map helped her focus and recall Elyra’s encouraging words in times of crisis.
“You’re good at what you do; you don’t need anyone’s approval. Take it step by step. Don’t try to tackle too much from the start and trust your instincts. Yours work, unlike Kael’s,” Elyra’s refreshing and reassuring voice echoed in her mind.
She managed to relax a bit, observing the familiar lines and curves on the map, and smiled at a scribble from Kael in a corner that read “dumbasses.”
Suddenly, she felt she could do it; she just needed to break down the objectives and go step by step.
Her search would lead her to the darkest corners of Northees Brinon, and she needed to be cautious and meticulous in her search for the Black Market, the largest in the Empire, known even in other continents for having anything one might seek. Forbidden potions, lost writings, inherited magic cores, tomes for elemental rituals... Whatever she needed was in the Black Market of Northees Brinon.
Her first step would be to gather information in the local markets, listen to conversations, and observe the movements of those who might provide valuable information to find what she wanted. But after a quick look at her cloak, she knew she needed to find a few more discreet changes of clothes.
She looked out the window and through a small crack, she could see the sky. The market would have closed some time ago, so the streets would likely be populated only by those frequenting taverns and brothels... the perfect time.
She peered out the window and saw a broom closet right beneath her window. It might be the perfect access point for thieves, but it was also a way for her to sneak out of her room.
She closed the window behind her and secured its lock. She had been practicing her power for over a year and knew she could traverse the entire city; with the small protection she had just set up, she would need little concentration to keep it in place.
She dropped silently to the ground and advanced a little toward the main street before realizing that someone was watching her. She stopped abruptly, on high alert.
This story was originally written in Spanish, but to be submitted to the fantasy contest, it has been translated into English. Apologies for any translation errors as this is not my native language, and I have had to use AI for assistance.
