A sinking feeling overcame Sally. Barring the forced programming – if the Hilaynite spoke the truth about that – the android had been polite. So why the switch in tone after the oath?

  And why does it feel like we’ve been scammed?

  She turned to Lucy, who seemed deep in thought. “What did we swear?”

  “It’s the oath we take when entering the Praesidium. To keep us acting civil, prevent violence and politicking. Well, tries to at least,” Lucy explained absentmindedly.

  If that was all it was, then why the android’s change in attitude?

  Sally thought about it, thinking over the oath to see if there was a trap of some kind, but found nothing. Eventually, she could do nothing but shrug and move on.

  15. Southwall – August 11, Year 216

  Southwall was an old city, older than Lovesse, older than even the Anteer cities. Like Gadeon and Bridgers in the Gold Circuit, and the Villas in the northern mountains, it had been one of the first communities to be built in the Circuits, inhabited since the dawn of the new world. A fixture in the Grand Circuit as much as the rivers, lakes and the black roads themselves.

  However, it was paradoxically also one of the youngest cities in the Circuits, and in many ways differed from the broader Circuit culture. Yes, there has always been, and likely will always be, a city called Southwall sitting in the middle of the Red Circuit’s southern half. Yes, it had a long and storied history, one its inhabitants were inordinately proud of – in the way that all surviving Circuit communities were inordinately proud of themselves. Yes, it had a Runner’s Guild, they catered to the caravan trade, were a tough and hardy people, manufactured similar products and ate similar foods.

  It had also been destroyed and rebuild three times over. The most recent time was, if Sally recalled correctly, around fifty years ago. A particularly powerful cannibal had either unified or killed all competing bands and set out onto the Circuits, looking for more prey to satisfy their demonic hunger.

  Thankfully, they were about as subtle as a brick and a response to it quickly formed. A coalition everyone in the Circuits participated in – even the Villas, as isolated and far removed from it as they were. Collectively, they dealt with the cannibals before they could gain too much momentum.

  Unfortunately, it was not fast enough to save Southwall. Unsubtle as they are, Southwall was simply too close for the coalition to reach in time, and they bore the brunt of the attack alone. It would’ve been too late for Lovesse as well, were it not for the tenacity of Southwall’s defense.

  Everyone had pitched in to help rebuild and resettle Southwall, but the largest contributor had come as a surprise. The League of Independent Cities, back then a relative unknown to the people of the Circuits, had borne most of the cost, providing funds for housing, physical infrastructure and defense, leaving the Circuits to pay for the people, food and armaments.

  The Leagueran influence on Southwall was omnipresent. Its roads were fully paved, its layout was grid-based, and its buildings were less the traditional sand-colored squares of the Anteeri and Loveese, but instead made partly with imported bricks and cement, coming in all shapes, sizes and colors.

  Likewise, its people wore clothes in the more decorated fashions of the Leaguerans’ than the Circuits’ and relied, focused and respected magical prowess more than any Circuit community, save perhaps the Drovers. That was not to say there was nothing of the Circuits left within them – their hardiness, stubbornness, focus on survival and respect for water – but they were certainly the most outsider community in the Circuits, more than even Gadeon.

  No doubt because of its deep connection to both the League and the Circuits, the city had grown rapidly after its destruction. Before the cannibal onslaught, it had been perhaps twice, thrice at most the size of Lovesse, setting its population much lower than any of the other cities sharing its age. Nowadays, it contained upwards of ten thousand people and was in the top five most populous cities in the Grand Circuit, certainly below Gadeon and Ancora, on par with Keringa on the eastern edge of the Green Circuit, and either above or below the Anteeri city of The Bite, depending on perspective.

  Sally and Lucy had arrived at the city yesterday evening, everything going as planned. They’d stayed the night at a Dekantist temple, a comfortable enough place. It was a beautiful building located on the city’s main street, but not as large as the size of the city would suggest, nor on the main square like the guilds and government buildings were. Still important, but not essential.

  Breakfast had come and gone, served by the temple’s cooks in traditional Dekantist fare, meaning mostly fish, despite what Sally suspected was its relative rarity in Southwall. Afterwards, Lucy had priestly duties to fulfill – a marriage, funeral, initiation, preaching to the public and teaching children – which Sally had been told would take the entire day. This meant that Sally’s task was to prepare for the journey ahead.

  And what a journey they had ahead of them. They would have to travel the most dangerous part of the Grand Circuit: Cannibal Road. This infamous road spanned the southeastern part of the Red Circuit and the southern part of the Green Circuit, from Southwall to Lake Majestic and then eastward along the Green. In total, it was about eighty-five miles long – sixty on the Red, twenty-five on the Green.

  They would have to travel at least the sixty miles part on the Red. Thankfully, the lake was right next to the road rather than further into the Red Wastes like Lake Dread, but they still had an incredibly dangerous journey ahead of them of at least five days.

  From there, they had two options. The first was to continue north along the Red Circuit, where they would reach The Bite after another sixty miles. From there, they would head east to Lake Solemn, following the northern part of the Green Circuit for about forty miles.

  The advantage? They wouldn’t have to travel the rest of the Cannibal Road and while the sixty miles of Red Circuit road between the Greenlands and Red Wastes certainly weren’t safe, it was safer than spending a further twenty-five miles being harassed by cannibals.

  The second option was going directly east from Lake Majestic onto the Green Circuit, reaching Keringa after seventy miles, with a further fifteen or so miles until Lake Solemn. The advantage here was twofold: the overall journey was shorter, a total of one-hundred-forty-five miles versus one-hundred-sixty, and travelling the Green was much safer than the Red. You know, if you don’t count the twenty-five extra miles of Cannibal Road you have to travel.

  To Sally, the choice was easy: spend the least amount of time dealing with cannibals. The chance they would be attacked by cannibals on the road to Lake Majestic was already too high. Risking another twenty-five miles? That turned one attack into a certainty, and a second attack possible. To make the rest of the journey longer and harder, but with less cannibals? That was a good trade-off in her mind.

  Still, regardless of the choice, they had a journey of at least one-hundred-twenty miles ahead of them before any stops to resupply. No cities, and no caravans either, considering the danger of the road meant caravans never took the route. Really, only runners ran this road, and even then only the most experienced would, and at a premium at that. The only silver lining of the journey was Lake Majestic, where they could at least resupply some water.

  Lucy had given her funds, which Sally had graciously accepted, and she set off into the city to make some purchases. Most of it was simple. Lasting foods and more canteens to fill with water, some extra ammunition just in case, and, well, that was it. They had most things already, so rather than buying stuff, Sally wound up spending most of the afternoon strolling around the city.

  This aimless strolling set her mind to wander, specifically in one direction: Lucy. The pilgrim had been in a bad mood ever since the encounter with the Hilaynite. Less energetic, less talkative, less focused on the journey, less… well, less herself in every way. Sally figured the reveal of her Prophet’s identity and the android’s parting comments had made Lucy question some things about her faith.

  Unfortunately, Sally was ill equipped to help in that regard. She wasn’t an expert on the woman’s faith, or any faith, and she doubted getting into a theological debate would resolve anything.

  But Sally wanted to help. Lucy had helped her in many ways over the course of the journey, and Sally felt like she hadn’t done the same in return. Sure, she helped guard the woman on their journey, but that was a job she was doing for a client, not helping a friend with whatever they were struggling with.

  So, the first idea Sally had was to buy the woman a gift. Lucy had done the same for her – regardless of the more mystical reasoning behind the gift – so to return that felt right. Sure, friends don’t count favors so a tit-for-tat might make Lucy think she was repaying a debt or something, but if it helped the pilgrim take her mind off things, she’d count it as a win.

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  Thankfully, because of Lucy’s journey being funded by the Dekantists, combined with the pilgrim’s generosity, Sally still had a decent amount of money. But as she wandered through Southwall’s main street and its many side streets, looking at the names, displays and signs of its many shops, the real problem emerged.

  What to buy? She doubted Lucy would like it if she purchased her a gun in return. It didn’t fit the woman, and while she lacked a shorter-range option for combat, that was what Sally was there for. Besides, she’d already given the woman the looted Scarab rifle, and while not really intended as a gift, she wouldn’t be asking for it back at the end of their journey. To then give another gun to Lucy was a bit… eh.

  The next thought was to buy the pilgrim clothes, but there was a problem with that as well. Lucy only ever wore the blue robes of her function, of which she already had several. To buy different clothes for Lucy to wear seemed inconsiderate, and to buy another set of blue robes from the temple – if that was even where she could one – didn’t really feel like a good gift.

  The only remaining piece of clothing Sally could think of was a hat. The pilgrim’s lack of head hair made Sally worry about whether the pilgrim would suffer a heatstroke while travelling since the moment they met, but so far it hadn’t happened yet. In fact, despite the woman’s obvious trouble with the heat, the sun didn’t seem to bother her much. Lucy was still relatively pale compared to the Circuits’ norm, and she didn’t really seem to burn or tan. Was there some magic she was using to ward off the sun? Would be an odd blessing, that, Sally thought. She put it out of her mind.

  There was only one other option she briefly considered to get Lucy, and that was to buy an animal. A pack-animal, like a camel or a mariandrake would be best. Not only would it help carry Lucy’s – and Sally’s own – stuff for the rest of their journey, it could even carry Lucy when necessary, cutting down the time of their journey by a third, maybe even half it.

  Unfortunately, the problems with such a gift heavily outweighed the benefits. Sally didn’t know how to handle such animals, and she doubted Lucy did either. Then there was the fact that travelling with such an animal made for an enticing target, and that it made it much harder to hide from such attention. Most importantly, however, was the cost of the animal itself. She didn’t know how much such an animal would cost, but Sally highly doubted she’d have the funds for one.

  And what else was there? A souvenir from the city or gifts like that seemed a bit too frivolous to carry around on their journey, and Sally didn’t know enough about Dekantism to buy an appropriate religious gift for Lucy. She hadn’t seen Lucy read and Sally wasn’t a reader either, so the book-idea was quickly thrown out the window.

  A hat it is, Sally decided. And if Lucy didn’t want it, well, Sally could always wear it herself. Even though the sun didn’t bother her much anymore.

  Sally left main and ducked into one of the side streets, the smooth, neat and well-maintained brick road transforming in a simpler block road of quarried stone. She looked at the various signs she came across, emblems of general stores, ironworks and other manufacturers, company logos and names of many different people, looking for… Well, whatever kind of store sold hats.

  She realized she’d never bought a hat before. Her first time purchasing clothes was back in Cardinar, where she just bought whatever the Red Bazaar there had on offer. In Lovesse, they’d just bought from the market stalls at the caravan grounds, and way back in the Villas, things were just made whenever people needed them.

  She’d never had to look for a hat store before, or any kind of clothing store for that matter. So, this was an entirely new experience for her!

  Prowling through streets and alleys, on the hunt for… hats! Sally made herself giggle. It was also her first time purchasing a gift for someone, and certainly the first time for a friend. The thought made her strangely giddy, anticipating – and partly dreading – Lucy’s response to the surprise.

  Her family and the Villas at large were never that big on gift giving, instead focusing more on celebrating through diners or feasts, along with occasionally crafting personal gifts on special occasions. They didn’t use money outside of trading, and only through trade could anyone buy a gift. And what merchant would brave danger to go to the Villas with gift-giving wares? No one.

  A two-for of new experiences. She was really beginning to live her childhood dreams.

  It didn’t take long until she found a sizeable store in one of the side streets, one called Millier’s Millinery and Threadings. It was on the ground floor of a three-storied building in a row of three-storied buildings, all similar looking with stepped triangular fa?ade. It didn’t have glass windows – too expensive? – but the large shutters at the front were rows of wooden slats, through which Sally could peer and see vague hints of hats.

  Stepping inside, Sally found herself in a completely unfamiliar environment. Wooden mannequins bearing clothes in elaborate and varied styles and colors, with the hats no less ornate. In fact, the hats seemed to be even more elaborate than the clothes, bearing strange transparent cloth- and metalwork decorations, overly large and lopsided brims, feathers and things she didn’t even have a name for.

  It was while she was gawking that a woman approached.

  “Hello, can I help you?” The woman had a refined voice, giving a somewhat stern impression. It was at odds with the general geniality of her appearance. She was older, grey-haired and wrinkled, but lacked the weathered-ness Sally was used to in older people. Her dress was more sober compared to the others occupying the store, more functional and less elaborate.

  “I’m looking for a hat, a gift for a friend,” Sally looked around the room, at the beautiful but cumbersome selection. She was decidedly out of her element. “Do you have any advice for me?”

  “Well, that depends on what you’re looking for. What function? What occasion? What pairing? Does she have a favored type of headwear?” The woman asked.

  Sally hadn’t expected this many questions, but she supposed that was fair.

  “Hmmm, I don’t think she has a favorite type of hat, and it isn’t exactly for a specific occasion, more a thank-you gift.” Sally scratched her chin, silent for a moment. “And with pairing, you mean what clothes, right?” The woman nodded. “Light blue robes.”

  “Oh, blue robes? For a member of the Guild, then?” There was something in the woman’s eyes, a glint Sally couldn’t place.

  She presumed the woman meant the Arcanist’s Guild. “No, she’s not a member. She’s a priest, a Dekantist one.”

  “A priest, hm.” The odd glint was gone from the woman’s eyes, but she still looked intrigued.

  “Yep. We’ll be travelling to Lake Majestic tomorrow, so if you have something that can hold up to some wear and tear…” Sally looked at the mannequins surrounding them. Not exactly an encouraging sight.

  “We don’t really sell travel ware here…” The woman trailed off, taking a moment to think.

  Sally had already gotten the clue she might not be in the appropriate place, so she wouldn’t be surprised if she was sent away. Hopefully, the woman can point me somewhere.

  Fortunately, the hatter continued. “But I do have some of the early works of my apprentice lingering about, if you don’t mind?” The likely owner of the store asked.

  Why would she? “Of course, gladly.”

  The milliner guided her into the back, a workshop with many benches, occupied by tools with unclear purpose and both finished and unfinished hats and comparatively fewer clothes occupying its racks, hangers and boxes. The store owner opened a closet, one that was deeper than Sally had expected. Rows upon rows of hats, some elaborate, some simple, but all of good quality to Sally’s untrained eyes.

  The woman went in and looked around, judging every hat. Sally didn’t follow inside, lingering on the boundary, but looked curiously at the collection to see if she could spot something. But there were simply so many that it was impossible to choose.

  Thankfully, the older woman chose for her.

  “Ah! Found something.” The woman went for something on the higher racks, reaching further in and behind the front row.

  Then, her hand retreated, revealing a light beige cordovan hat. Simple, but sleek, with a thin brown leather band double wrapped around the its base, reaching into nearly invisible holes in the side and leaving a string hanging. A way to tie the hat to the chin.

  The woman looked at it with a nostalgic, reminiscent smile. “You know, this was one the last works of my first apprentice, right before he graduated. Before he struck out on his own and went to Ancora.” Then she turned to Sally. “So, how do you like it?”

  She could imagine Lucy wearing it, dressed in light blue robes with a wide smile and sparkling green eyes.

  Sally decided she liked the image. “It’s perfect,” she smiled. But she dreaded the answer to the next question. “How much is it?”

  “Two thousand sigils.”

  Sally’s heart went into brief shock at the price, before realizing something. It was Leagueran money, a type of currency she wasn’t familiar with. She could still hope. “How much is that in Union dollar?”

  “Let’s say one-hundred-thirty.”

  That was still a lot. More than the money she received from selling the loot back in Cardinar, even if half the weapons were near-junk. It would be the second most expensive item she’d bought, only pushed out by the magic-fueled burner.

  But Sally did have the money, even if only barely. It would leave her with next to nothing, but she could buy it. She hesitated. It looked great, but she could still look elsewhere for another hat.

  Seeing Sally hesitate, the woman asked a question. “You said you were on a pilgrimage, correct?”

  Well, Lucy is, but- “Yes, to Lake Majestic.”

  “And I assume that at some point you will go to Ancora?” The milliner inquired.

  Ah. Sally connected the dots. “You want us to deliver something to your apprentice?”

  The woman nodded. “A small package and a letter, yes.”

  “Why not hire a runner?” Sally inquired.

  “They’d take the long way around. Two hundred miles, and with a package? They don’t do extra small size discounts.” The store owner grumbled.

  “So, I take the package, and you give me the hat?” Sally asked.

  The woman barked a laugh. “Ha! No, you take the task and pay me seventy-five for the hat.”

  Sally recognized the haggling phase had begun. “Oh please, you’ll save much more than that. How about the job and thirty for the hat.”

  “You might be cheaper, but you lack the assurance of delivery a runner provides. Especially since you’ll be going through cannibal territory.” The woman argued. “Fifty or nothing.”

  It was a good point. The Circuit runners were trusted, and Sally was an unknown.

  In fact- “Why trust me at all? You don’t know me.”

  The milliner shrugged in response. “Call it a gut instinct, but you look honest enough. Besides, what criminal would make up a story of buying a hat for their friend, whom they’re on a pilgrimage with and whose next stop is along the Cannibal Road?” The woman smirked. “Sounds too far-fetched for fraud.”

  Sally could see the logic, odd as it was, and accepted the offer. “Fair enough. Fifty it is.” They shook hands and the woman fetched a small, cubic package with an envelope. To Duran Harner, from Angela Millier, the cover read.

  Lucy paid the woman, put the package and letter in her bag and went on her way, new hat in tow.

  X

  Later that night, after they’d had dinner in their room, Sally told Lucy to wait and remain seated for a moment, then stood up and went to the closet she ‘hid’ the hat in.

  With no small amount of trepidation, she gave the hat to Lucy.

  “You bought a hat for me?” Lucy asked, blinking in surprise. “Why?”

  “Well, I thought- since you don’t have any, you know,” Sally gestured at her head, to which Lucy snorted. “It’s to prevent you from getting a heatstroke. Although you don’t seem-”

  Lucy cut off her rambling. “No, I meant, why buy me a gift at all.”

  Sally forcibly calmed herself down. “After the whole… thing with the Hilaynite, you seemed to be a bit down.” Sally shrugged faux-casually. “Thought it might cheer you up.”

  Lucy looked down at the hat in her hands, contemplating something. Then, she took a deep breath. “You know, I thought I had it figured out. The Praesidium was stuck in their ways, relying on tradition and politicking, but never learning and progressing their understanding, always unchanging. The opposite of what the Ante- what I thought the Ante stood for.”

  Lucy let out a deep sigh, dejected. “But in the end, I’m no different. How can I interpret his will if I know nothing about him? About his pasts, his origins, his personal history, what really motivated his actions? Haven’t even tried to figure out his past beyond what I was taught as a child.” The pilgrim grimaced in self-loathing. “I’m just another fool of the Praesidium.”

  For a moment, Sally said nothing, surprised. She hadn’t seen Lucy like this before, only the ever-happy pilgrim, knowing priest and steadfast believer. She looked for words to say, something to cheer her friend up, but she’d never been good at this, at confronting emotions, be it her own or others. Caldwell had been right about that.

  But then, she spotted the lie in Lucy’s statement.

  “But you did.”

  Lucy looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

  “How many of those priests went on this pilgrimage? How many have ever encountered a Hilaynite?” Sally asked rhetorically. “You went out and did it, vision or not. You were the one to encounter, survive and talk to a Hilaynite, not them. And you did figure out something of your Prophet’s past, where he came from at least. You did, while they did nothing.”

  She looked Lucy deep in the eyes. “Doesn’t that mean something?”

  The impassioned speech was followed by a moment of silence. Lucy looked down at the hat in her hand, expression hidden.

  “You’re right,” Lucy said, lifting her head back up. “I did go out, did find out thanks to the Ante’s guidance. And by his will I’ll find out everything there is to know, and when I do, I’ll tell it all! Teach it all! No matter what the Praesidium says!” The fire was back in her eyes.

  Sally smiled at the restoked ambition. There was the woman she admired.

  Then, she broke the silence. “Soooo, do you like it?” Sally asked, smiling.

  Lucy looked down at the head, then donned it on her head. A great big smile and sparkling green eyes. That was everything Sally needed to know.