Ch. 2 Lord Mayor

Chapter Two: The Lord Mayor

The tram ride was remarkably silent as Cassian continued to blankly stare over at the rest of the lordlings clustered on the padded seats. They studiously ignored him and Henri while talking quietly to themselves. The city around them was simply a dreary blur of slate gray buildings and the shimmering silver of falling rain. 

The mix of their colognes and perfumes in the enclosed space was enough that Cassian had to fight back from sneezing violently. They had taken to the expensive scents like they were cheap swill, wallowing in them like pigs in a trough. That kernel of rage that kept him warm at night burned hot with every inhalation of the liquid gold scents. 

The tram passed by a shanty town filled with starving people, their bones prominent against their skin as their threadbare clothes offered no respite from the elements. They clung together around burning pits, huddling for what warmth they could find. How many of them could be fed and housed with just a fraction of the wealth that these spoiled dilettantes wore on their necks and wrists?

“If you glare at them any harder, I suspect they shall combust from the wrath in your gaze,” Henri remarked as she raised a gloved hand to cover her lips as she whispered to him. 

“My apologies, my lady.” All Cassian got was a soft snort and then they rode the rest of the way there in silence. The Hub came into being, an enormous piece of gothic architecture that dominated the city center. Golems stood in silent sentry around the entrances, their bodies shining in the light of the gas lights. 

Stone gargoyles clung to the top of the buttresses and peered down with snarling visages. There was a dozen different tram lines that were operated masterfully by the city employees and their line transfer was smooth. They were diverted away from the track that would lead them around the city and instead were sent through the Hub and into the center of the city. 

Only trams on official business were allowed to bypass the hub and enter the heart of the city. It was here that the mana stones were shaped, weighed, and packaged. The Lord Mayor’s mansion was a small manor that sat in the shadow of the Hub, but was still resplendent. Dark woods harvested from rifts gave it an oily appearance as the constant rains slid off of the wood rather than being absorbed. The wood was rumored to be harder than iron, but Cassian had never heard anyone confirm that rumor. 

A personal carriage was parked in front of the manor. It was one of the new carriages that were powered by a mana engine and required only a driver with a few hours of training. Four iron rimmed wheels supported the boxy wooden frame, but a metal housing nested like a great tumor in the back. An iron shaft with a hard wooden wheel protruded out where the driver sat, with a lever next to it. 

Cassian looked at it carefully, his interest in the vehicles having been piqued last year when one had nearly ran him over. All of the vehicles were owned by the Lord Mayor and his cronies, one of whom had bought the company that produced the vehicles. The Lord Mayor rarely lended them out, but with the last minute summons it just added to the weight of the upcoming meeting. 

“This gets better and better,” Henri muttered as she rose up to her full diminutive height. Cassian nodded and prepared to debark, offering up Henri’s hat back to her. The small woman took it without a word and stepped out the door of the tram before it fully stopped in front of the manor’s doors. 

The umbrella sprung into being as Cassian chased after his charge as she marched fearlessly toward the front door. A doorman stepped out of a hidden alcove and opened the door for them before the rest of the lordlings had begun to untangle themselves and leave the tram. 

Henri didn’t acknowledge the doorman, but Cassian tipped his head fractionally to the man. The man didn’t deign to respond and Cassian felt his poor mood slide further into the sewers. 

The interior of the manor was simply extravagant. Black marble inlaid with gold trim. Rose colored walls and crystal chandeliers spinning light into every corner. Statues of rift beasts were placed about, each of them with a small plaque on them. Violet flowers were placed in clear crystal vases offering a splash of color. 

Henri handed Cassian her hat and coat, which he draped over his non-sword arm. His own hat was left on as it dripped cold storm water down his neck. 

“This place is foul. The colors are awful and gaudy,” Henri whispered as they were escorted by a silver and black clad butler into a large dining room. Cassian could see where the large banquet table normally sat, but it was now pushed against a far wall leaving the room bare. 

Lord Mayor Silkes stood there, one hand behind his back as they walked in. He was rail thin with a narrow face and a fastidiously trimmed mustache that bristled on his upper lip. His chestnut brown hair was slicked back into a helmet of get and he held a tumbler of amber whisky in his other hand as he watched them with dispassionate green eyes. 

“Lady Lowren, thank you for responding to my summons with haste.” Silkes didn’t bother to comment on Cassian’s presence. He slunk to the back of the room where the help was supposed to be and watched as the rest of the lordlings came trundling in. Other armsmen or servants soon lined the wall with him while the lordlings stood in small clusters as they waited. 

When the bell struck the hour Lord Silked clapped his hands twice and all sound faded out of his hall. All eyes turned to the thin man as he watched the lords with his dispassionate eyes. 

“I have been ordered to summon the youth of the lords, between the ages of 16-19. I have done what my duties required. I will leave the rest to Knight Commander Bishop.” Silkes waved a hand at a separate door which opened on the signal and the widest man Cassian had ever seen stepped out of the door. 

He wasn’t fat. Cassian doubted there was more than a few spare pounds to be found on the entirety of the man's body. He looked carved of weathered stone, his dark skin blemished by a variety of scars. His sky blue uniform strained to contain his bulk, the golden buttons gleamed in the gas lights of the chandelier and his curly black hair was cut to his scalp. He was an  imposing figure of a man in knee height, spit-polished boots that thumped with every step as he walked into the center of the room. 

His entrance was so enrapturing that Cassian missed the second person who followed in his wake. A tall woman, thought lean and looked just as hard as the Knight Commander. Her pale features bordered on translucent with her straw blond hair limp and lank and hardly had the length to brush her shoulders. Intelligent blue eyes looked them all over while she stood rigid straight, not an ounce of an expression slipping through her implacable facade. 

“Thank you Lord Mayor Silkes. I am Knight Commander Bishop of his Imperial Army of the Symbiote Knights.” 

Cassian felt his heart begin to beat faster in his chest. The Symbiote Knights were legends. They were the tip of the spear, the greatest warriors in the entire world. They were the ones who plumbed the deepest of the rifts and brought back the wealth to the surface. They were the ones who fought the greatest of the rift beasts. A single Symbiote Knight was worth an entire mage company. 

The silence built as Bishop looked at them. Silkes stood off to the side sipping his whisky while the unnamed woman didn’t move. 

“My team was called out to deal with a S-Tier rift that spawned six miles off the coast of the DreadIsle. We cleared the rift and collapsed it. At the heart of the rift we recovered a set of relics that have time constraints on them. We found Symbiote seeds. It requires someone who’s mana channels haven’t firmed yet, which means you. I will call you forth, one by one and Captain Nestor will test you. If you pass the test, you will have a chance to claim a seed. The seeds choose their partners, not the other way around. If you aren’t chosen, we kindly ask you to leave.”  

Cassian could have heard a pin drop as everyone was frozen. The chance to be a Symbiote Knight was not something that came every day. It was also dangerous. The ballads of the knights were often sung posthumously. Fear and anxiety ripened into a pungent smell that covered the sickly perfumes of the lordlings and Cassian had to repress a smile at their discomfort. 

“Henrietta Lowren. Step forth.”