CHAPTER 31 : THE CITADEL

Citadel Firstview was a place Norrin spent many years avoiding. Whenever he led a caravan there, he collected his payment by a trusted proxy and did not step one foot inside its gates as he planned to do for this journey. He just did not feel any desire to return to the Citadel at all. He grew up in Firstview, studied at its Institute, represented it in the Games, and served in its army. But, because he and his family were of the Southern Nines, he never felt like he belonged.

Due to the proximity and history between the two regions, there is always an undercurrent of animosity and hostility toward Southern Niners even amongst the friendliest of the Firstviewers. Being a Niner in Firstview always came with a feeling of being less than, even though they were a large part of the citadel’s population. Norrin always felt like he was either despised, feared, or pitied, and he did not know which one was worse. It was a feeling he only experienced inside Citadel Firstview, and he was happy to be rid of it when he started his career as a Chaser. That feeling came creeping back as soon as the column escorting him and Graykeeper approached the Citadels walls.

“Godsdamn Firstviewers, thinking they are better than everyone. They should be bowing down to us for saving this blight of a city,” grumbled Graykeeper under his breath.

Norrin just rolled his eyes at the captain’s statement. Sir Reynold Graykeeper hailed from Citadel Snowall, and Snowall and Firstview had their own history of conflicting beliefs. In truth, all three of the Citadels held contempt for each other in some fashion. There was always a competition amongst the Governors and Highborn citizens about which Citadel had the highest towers, best eateries and most opulent lifestyle. However, none of the Citadels could stand without the cooperation of the other two.

This was a lesson learned firsthand from the Second Conflicts, a dispute between two Highborn houses that spilled over into a war that almost destroyed the entire government structure. And, at the end of the Second Conflicts, it was determined that the three Citadels of the Triton Realm, and all of the Highborn that lived in them, were interdependent on each other for survival. This is why Norrin dismissed Graykeeper’s words. Graykeeper is a Highborn, and the Highborn looked out for each other always. They worked together to keep their privileged status, in spite, and at the expense of the common people. The rivalry that they purported was all pure performance for the masses.

Norrin knew this because he has traveled multiple times to all three Citadels during his tenure as a Chaser. Firstview was the primary city founded by the first High Governors and is the oldest and largest of the three Citadels in the Triton Realm, so it has that distinction. Otherwise, to him they were all nearly identical. Street names were different, and the architecture of the buildings and walls were designed to fit each cities geography, climate, and way of life. But the base structure and planning of the Triton Realm Citadels were indistinguishable from each other.

Each Citadel held millions of people and was divided into four different boroughs segregated by wealth and position starting from the outside going in. Each borough was designated by the geometric shape of the walls marking its borders. The boroughs consisted of the Octagonal, which was for the lower working class. The Circle housed middle class neighborhoods of merchants and businessmen. The Quad reserved for Highborn citizens, and the final borough, The Tri, domain of the High Governors and the ultra-elite members of society.

The outer wall of the citadel formed the Octagonal, colloquially known as the Eights, because each wall was connected by eight solid towers forming an almost impenetrable defense. Each tower had multiple slotted windows designed for bow-gunners and snipers and were topped with mobile ballistae and catapults. There were four gates in the outer wall of Firstview corresponding to each point of the compass. To ease entry and exit people were directed to the gate that would be the closest to their destination. To enter the city, one had to cross the heavy two-sided drawbridges, which spanned the deep trench surrounding the citadel. Disciplined Citadel Guardians stood guard at the bridges and were positioned on top of the rampart walls. The Guardians patrolled the walls day and night in groups of three, armed with powerful long-range bow-guns. However, they were not only watching for threats from beyond the wall, they also were monitoring the goings on inside the Eights.

A small crowd formed to watch the Blue Wardens parade Norrin and Graykeeper through the Western Gate and down the main road of the Eights. Norrin’s family had moved away from the Eights and back to the Southern Nines several years ago, and he himself had left even earlier. But he still recognized some of the faces in the crowd and wondered if they identified him as one of their own.

“Not much has changed, as I expected” He thought as they marched through the densely packed neighborhoods.

Norrin had lived in Zone 3, one of the eight zones that made up the borough, which stayed almost exactly as he remembered it. The streets were perpetually dark because the inner wall of the Octagonal and outer wall of the Circle blocked out most natural light, except when the sun was at its highest. Also, the elevated tracks of the rail crawlers used to pull crowded cars of people around the eights created persistent shadows no matter the time of day. The tracks snaked past neutral colored nondescript buildings packed tight together, which were covered with scrawling graffiti and anti-establishment messages. The streets were confining and damp, lit with torchlight crystals that struggled against the gloom of the narrow paths and alleyways. There was an ever-present sewage and mildew smell, mixed in with the greasy and smokey smell of food being prepared in the markets and by various street vendors.

“This is where I grew up. Sorry I can’t show you around properly” Norrin whispered to Nassima who was present by Norrin’s side.

“I will scan your memories to learn more,” Nassima replied. “Try to remain calm, you might feel a little disorientated.”

“What? Owwww…” Norrin sighed as the sensation of Nassima diving into his mind hit him hard. His vision became blurred, as flashes of his memories past blended in with the present world.

Norrin’s recollections of his old neighborhood showed that although it was not a safe place, it was not always filled with only harsh experiences. Poverty and crime ran rampant, gangs controlled the streets, and illicit and addictive goods flooded the neighborhoods and destroyed the lives of a few people he knew. Norrin had more than a few run-ins with some bad elements and was misguided into some dangerous situations. But, to him that was just a part of life growing up in the Eights.

There were many good times there also. Block parties and parades, plus feasts where everyone pitched in a meal to share. The people as a whole tried to make the best out of what they were given. Life inside the walls of the Eights were hard, but outside the walls, dealing with a world filled with literal deadly man-eating monsters roaming about, was even more difficult. So many people were willing to live with the lesser of two evils as long as their families stayed protected inside the Octagonal.

Norrin was not always an innocent, but he tried his best to stay out of too much trouble. He had a ragtag group of friends that he relied on and genuinely cared about. But many of Norrin’s friends fell victim to the corruption and were lost. Sad as it may have been, there were just certain things that every young man raised in those neighborhoods had to go through, with their only hope just to make it out to the other side.

“Norrin! Norrin!” A familiar voice called out interrupting Nassima’s trip through Norrin’s past. The Blue Wardens cut a path through the throngs of people undeterred, while Norrin scanned the crowd trying to find the source.

“Norrin! You slick wizard, you’re alive!”

Bayron squeezed his way through crowd and marched along with the Blue Wardens, ignoring their angry orders to move aside. His head was wrapped with a bloody bandage, and his arm was pulled into a makeshift sling. But that did not dampen his raucous and animated spirit.

“Bayron! You’re here! What happened to you?”

“What happened to you? I thought for sure you were griffon food!” Bayron exclaimed.

“And I thought the lizardmen would be picking at your bones by now!” Norrin laughed, “I should have known you of all people would make it here intact!”

“Aye I made it, but not totally intact!” Bayron said with a laugh while rubbing his bandaged head. “My gods this has been the worst contract of my life Norrin! After we lost you, we were attacked by a swarm of giant wasps and some oddly aggressive Rockcrabs and we barely made it to Citadel Steelhaven with our hides. Three more Chasers were hired when we got there and they were promised three times what you were promised, but the poor bastards did not see the shine of a single coin. The first was swallowed whole by a horned Basilisk between Steelhaven and Summersedge. The second was mauled by a two-headed Hellhound on our way to the Southpoint bridge. The third, just some poor kid, must’ve sensed something wrong. He dropped his bandero after we crossed the bridge and ran off. We double-timed it to the main road thinking we were in the clear, but then the lizardmen ambushed us.”

“The transport with the emissaries carrying the chest, what happened to them?” Norrin asked with his hopes high.

“We tried to make it to the walls, I even dropped the load I was hauling, but there were too many of them. The lizardmen mobbed around us and wrecked our crawlers. They mostly ignored me, but the other Rotorman and those poor Emissaries were torn to pieces. A grisly sight it was. Whatever they were holding in that chest cost them their lives.”

“I’m sorry for your ordeal,” Norrin said as he reached into his pack. “Here, take this. It is my promissory note for payment, I will mark it off to you. Make sure you get paid. You deserve it.”

“I can’t take this.”

“You can and you will. I don’t need it anymore. Buy out your contract, get you one of those fancy racing crawlers you always talked about. Quit doing these long hauls and settle down.”

“Thank you Norrin. I still owe you a drink!”

“Oh, I know, I won’t let you forget!” Norrin said with a laugh. He gave his friend a final wave as the squadron marched on.