At first, neither Yuriko nor Desire realised that something was happening. Mornings were always crowded, especially near the markets. There was a marketplace for each district and they were usually full at dawn, and so were the streets that lead them.

Yuriko thought it was the usual crowd, though it was actually less crowded than she expected. It was only when she passed the market that she saw it was nearly deserted, and the tenants and customers looked preoccupied. Certainly, the loud hawking, haggling, and gossiping were subdued.

And then, a pack of youths marched past them on the main road, grim-faced and holding an assortment of makeshift weapons. Like a club that had clearly been a chair leg an hour ago. Then, more and more of them came out of their houses, and the two girls got swept along. Yuriko only kept her condensed aura close to her skin and under her clothing, so she had little recourse but to go with the flow. The need to stay discrete practically stopped her from doing anything more than that. She could have pushed past them, but they were so crowded that any movement of her part, using her full strength, would have probably left corpses.

The palace square wasn’t far from where they had been caught and assimilated into the crowd. There was a palpable angry buzz, and the crowd wasn’t just youths. She saw more than a few faces with frown lines, middle-aged women, and older men. Faces contorted in anger.

Her breath felt short, and every time she drew breath, she felt the anger seeping into her. A bit of red tinge seeped into her Anima, though thankfully still concealed under her clothes. When they reached the square, there was a loud roar.

She heard snippets of what they shouted, but since they were all different words, and in Wojan as well, she didn’t understand all of what they were saying. The ones she did understand burned into her mind.

“...too much death!”

“...not our war!”

“...the Counselor is a fool to give in!”

“...where’s my son!”

“...where’s my daughter?”

“...where’s my husband?”

My uncle, my father, my brother, my mother, my sister.

Long minutes passed as they screamed and pushed against the palace guard. Being taller than most of the crowd, Yuriko could see over their heads, and she could see the line of guards right next to the palace entrance. They were clad in colourful and ceremonial armour, with helms that covered most of their faces. She could see their eyes though, and they were glimmering with uncertainty.

Her Mien surged out of her Anima and touched everyone around her. But contrary to what she expected, it didn't twist, chain, or even mildly affect anyone. Instead, she was awash with sudden emotion. Where before, she felt and was pulled along with the smouldering anger, now she felt it keenly. Anger. Despair. Worry. Spite. But heavier underneath was sorrow.

Sorrow for lost sons and daughters, dead fathers and mothers, and the unwillingness to leave their fates to their suddenly unreasonable leaders.

She didn’t know when it happened, but something flew through the air, from the crowd to the guards.

Splat!

Eggs. Rotten fruit. Rancid cabbage leaves. Pebbles and stones.

One rock, the size of her fist, bounced off one of the guards’ helmets. It visibly dented the steel and the guard went down. It was the signal for true violence to ensue.

The guards started to push back, using their round shields at first. Then, cudgels and clubs rose in the air and fell. The crowd pushed back, throwing rotten food all the while. Somebody pushed her from behind, and they were so close together that she inadvertently moved forward. Then, the one in front of her moved back, pushed by an overly strong guard. She could hear people screaming in pain, then losing their voices as their lungs emptied. And they couldn’t catch their breaths.

Yuriko’s perception saw it clearly. People’s faces turned to fear and despair as they gasped for air. Then, the crowd raised weapons. A knife flashed. A chair leg club slammed into the guard’s face. A brutal fist jabbed into the gaps between the armour.

A full-blown battle in extremely close quarters between the city’s palace guard and its angry populace.

She didn’t know why, but Yuriko’s attention was suddenly riveted on a woman standing on a palace balcony. She had grey hair and a stern face. Her eyes swept across the crowd, and then she yelled, “ENOUGH!”

A wave of sound, of force, swept through everyone and froze them stiff. Yuriko felt the compulsion beating against her Anima, and she gritted her teeth and resisted. The wave broke against her body but continued to sweep past her. For a long second, then two, nobody could move, and then…

“Disperse them.” The woman’s voice was even, but oh so cold.

The mob’s anger broke, replaced by fear. The palace guard glowed with malevolent light, and a blast of force knocked the crowd backwards a step. The screams started again as people were crushed, or fell down. Then, the mob pushed away and Yuriko was swept along with it.

Desire grabbed her hand as they were dragged along. Yuriko kept her kinesis locked on her poncho hood, keeping it over her head. She hunched down so she wouldn’t literally stand out too much, and simply followed along.

The mob fractured against the twisting streets, growing thinner and thinner with every intersection. Right behind them, the guard, and the constables, chased after and took down the rioters. It only took a couple of intersections to free themselves from the mob’s tight grip, but they couldn’t just stop.

Doors were slammed shut, window shutters locked and covered. She could see curious yet frightened eyes peeking from second-storey windows, but everything on the street level was locked tighter than a water barrel.

She kept her grip on Desire’s hand, and her Chaos Lord friend staggered as she ran. Her poncho caught on a nail stuck out from a post and ripped off a large fragment as she ran past. Grimacing in annoyance, Yuriko pushed out her condensed aura to protect it. It occurred to her that having immaculate clothes was better than being marked as part of the mob.

They dodged into an alleyway, ignoring the stink, and ran down its twisting length. They were followed by a few of the mob, and soon, a couple of constables. The uniformed woman threw a net at one of the lagging civilians, and the boy fell down into a puddle with a scream of fear. Yuriko’s impulse was to help, but before she could do anything, someone barreled into the side of the constable, knocking her on her bottom. A knife flashed, and the net was cleft in twain. The captured boy struggled out of it and ran off. The youth who slammed into the constable smashed a fist on her temple and knocked her out cold. His wild eyes darted down the alley and widened at meeting Yuriko’s incredulous stare.

It was Izna, the Foster twins’ friend. He shook himself and ran towards them, gesturing for them to get going. He caught up easily and said, “Come on! I’ve got a great place to hole up in!”

He didn’t grab her, at least. He ran a couple of steps ahead, then swerved down another alleyway. As they penetrated the bowels of the city, fewer and fewer rioters ran with them. The number of constables and guards was limited, too, and from what she could sense when they passed near the main thoroughfares, they focused on clearing the people off it. How many youths lived in this city-state that was at least two or three times bigger than Rumiga City?

A chilling thought ran through Yuriko’s mind. This was just one of the city-states yet their populace was already so much. And they were able to send a force up to Imperial territory even while keeping a sizable force to contain their citizens.

But then, another thought comforted her. The Empire was strong. Even with all of this, they could defend their territories. Even besieged on three fronts, only a little strip of land had been taken.

Those were just idle thoughts, however, and as they fled from their pursuers, Yuriko’s emotions, which had been swayed by the crowd’s anger, had settled down.

“Here,” Izna said as he stopped by a pile of wooden planks. The alley was deserted, and they’d run far enough to have left the central district. Where they were now, she wasn’t sure. He knocked on a door in a coded pattern, and when it opened, Izna jerked his head.

Yuriko and Desire exchanged glances, shrugged, and followed behind him. Right past the door was the one who let Izna inside, a middle-aged man with an incredible physique reminiscent of Armsmaster Byrne’s. Unlike Izna and the two of them, he wasn’t wearing a poncho, but a tight-fitting shirt and pants that revealed every bulge, muscle or otherwise. He nodded familiarly to Izna and eyed Yuriko and Desire with pursed lips. She felt her Mien start to unfurl so she stomped down on it mentally and it acquiesced.

The guard opened another door left of the entrance, and the three of them entered a long, dimly lit room filled with pipe smoke, and smelling of liquor. At the far end of the narrow space was a staircase leading up, presumably to another entrance or another storey. Izna pointed at the bar, where a barkeep nervously polished a silver goblet. The other patrons glanced at them from their stools or booths, but their gazes didn’t linger.

The three of them sat on the stools, with Yuriko taking the centre one, Izna on her right and Desire on her left. Izna raised his hand, holding three fingers up, and the barkeep nodded and filled three wooden mugs with foamy ale out of a barrel set beneath the counter. He pushed the mugs at them and Izna dropped a medium-sized silver coin along with five smaller ones. Thirty Shekels for three mugs? That was about five Sovereigns each, or five parfaits from the Olde Sweet Shoppe!

“That was close.”

Izna laughed as he took a long gulp. Desire poked at her mug, then took a cautious sip. Her nose wrinkled in distaste, but then thought better of it and slurped up the rest.

Yuriko did the same, but she never really liked ales or lagers due to the bitterness, but she wasn’t impolite enough to reject a gift given without any expectation of return. She did feel his sincerity through her Mien, which was still sensitive to emotion after being stimulated earlier. The ale was cloudy brown and the foam head tasted funny, but it wasn’t as bitter as she expected. A warmth welled up in her tummy after she swallowed.

Pipe smoke drifted close to her as they sat and drank. It tickled her nose, and she snorted, before using a bit of her kinesis to push it away from her face. She kept her kinesis close to her skin, to prevent the golden glow and the shape from betraying her, though it did make her a bit more conspicuous in the dim tavern.

“Thank you,” she said to Izna, who nodded and shrugged.

“I didn’t imagine Braden’s friends would expect to get caught in the city’s troubles. Heh.” He emptied his mug and signalled for more. The barkeep obliged. “You two…” Izna’s voice lowered to a whisper, “aren’t from Haveena, aren’t you? You’re friends with Braden…ah, that guy makes friends all over the place… Hmmm, I can’t quite place your looks,” he nodded to Desire, “and you, Miss Yuriko, you’re from the Empire, aren’t you?”

Yuriko blinked. Busted.

“What gave that away?” she asked faintly.

“Heh. The way you turned your nose up at the horses.” He giggled. “I heard the Empire don’t use them anymore. The stench must have been horrific to you,” he continued. “So if you’re from the Empire and those two are as well, you,” he nodded to Desire, “must be, as well. So…” he breathed, “What brings people who we’re at war with, here?” His sarcastic tone was impossible to miss.

“Hmmm.” Yuriko stared down at her mug.

“Ah,” Izna said before she could say another word. “I have misstepped.” He sketched a bow. “Allow me to apologise. Your purposes are your own.” He snorted in his mug. “As you can see, the citizens of Haveena are hardly united. With the First Councillor acting as though she were Tyrant of Ivala instead of first among equals.” He snorted again, louder. “Merchants my hairy behind! What sort of merchant leader forces trade to stop and advances an army to conquer?” His voice rose in volume which caused the other patrons to turn their attention towards them.

“Hear, hear!”

Izna raised his mug to toast and the others drank in response.

“Are you…rebels?” Yuriko asked tentatively.

“No. Nothing so organised. That mess outside, that was spontaneous. A response to the proclamation yesterday. And if things go as they are, I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire city rose up in arms.”

“Oh, tell me more?” Yuriko smiled.

Izna blinked in surprise and he worked his jaw, then muttered. “That’s a deadly smile. Land gods and sky spirits! Don’t make me doubt myself,” he muttered under his breath, though Yuriko still heard him.

She didn’t say anything in response and simply took another sip. Izna shook his head and finished his second mug. His cheeks and ears were now visibly red, though she didn’t think he was drunk quite yet.

“Sure. I’ll tell you more,” he finally said.