in joy we'd cry

𓇢𓆸 𓆤 𖧧 𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𖧧 𓍊𓋼 𔓘

𝕊ℕ𝕆𝕎 fell gently in the city as a man's urgent voice cut through the chilly air, "Fellow Burguishen! Your city is under siege!" He fervently handed out papers to the passing crowd, proclaiming, "But you are not alone! Have your voice heard!" Amidst the flurry of activity, the two siblings were engrossed in a newspaper with the headline, 'STORM WRECKS MIGRANT VESSEL!' Aline, a familiar voice, interrupted their reading. "So, have you caught him yet?" Melody's face lit up with joy upon seeing her friend. Aline, clad in a dark pink and black checkered coat to ward off the cold, and with baby blue hair, approached them.

Running to him, Melody was enveloped in Aline's arms as he gave her a warm hug. "Hello, little dragonfly," he greeted with a smile, playfully ruffling her hair. Melody fondly remembered the early days of their acquaintance when Aline was skeptical, but with time, he had come to see her as a little sister. Their bond had grown strong, and the warmth of friendship flourished in the midst of the wintry cityscape as for him and as for Philo... not so much.

He gazed at Philo, who remained engrossed in the paper. "Aline," Philo spoke without shifting his focus. "It's been three weeks since the last one. I expect he'll be on the prowl tonight, won't he?"

"Good to see you, too," Philo replied, still fixated on the paper, seemingly disinterested. "I'm just wondering if I should make a point of running my errands before sundown," Aline remarked. He draped an arm around Melody, attempting to shield her from the cold, despite her already being clad in a black button-up coat, a red dress, black stockings, and a pair of black boots. Philo finally shifted his gaze toward the male fae. "I'd have him by now if more of the victims had been forthcoming." As the trio began walking, Aline added, "Yeah, well, a bloke with a badge knocking on your door isn't exactly a relief where they came from. At least they like Melody even more." Aline noticed a display of flowers, plucked one, and delicately placed it in Melody's hair, accompanied by a coin to pay for it. Melody smiled appreciatively. Philo sighed, and Aline turned to him, asking, "What?"

"I'll concede, the police aren't saints, but we're not the damn Pact," Philo declared, fixing his gaze on the male fae. "Yeah, but you folks abandoned us to them, just like you'd abandon us to Jack and leaving your sister to tend to the wounded, making her the angel," he added with a smile, glancing at Melody, who responded with a playful eye roll. Aline turned her attention back to Philo. "It's what people are saying."

"Right. How bad is it? Do I have to worry about riots?"

"It's tense. A racist with a hammer is beating us wherever he finds us, and we don't see too many of you lot out here giving a shit," Aline observed, eyeing Philo up and down for a moment. Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by a man's voice. "You looking for trouble?" he said as a fae woman and a male faun walked past. "Yeah, you're not in Sheep-Land anymore, you fucking trotter. This city belongs to us! You'd do well to remember that!" The men around him voiced their agreement. Melody shot the man a lethal look, but before she could react, the arm around her tightened. She glanced at Aline, sighed, and turned her gaze away from the man.

"Anyway, this Jack business. I can tell you where I'd look." Aline turned to both Philo and Melody, a significant pause emphasizing his point. "Which is what you both are doing here." His gaze shifted to Melody as she began to speak. "Last victim said he had muttonchops." Aline looked at her with evident approval. "Hmm. Well, look at you." Philo raised a newspaper, drawing their attention. "Did you see this?" Aline took the paper in his free hand while keeping his arm around Melody. "Another wreckage." Melody glanced at the paper as well. "It looks like it came from Anoun."

"Any survivors?" Aline inquired, his eyes scanning through the words as if searching for a specific name. "Are there ever?" Philo commented dismissively before turning to walk away. Melody sighed, catching Aline's attention. He looked at her and asked, "How've you been holding up, little dragonfly?" His gaze settled on a single braid in her hair, adorned with a gold spike at the end. "I've been alright, well, as fine as I can be. I just... miss him," Melody replied, her eyes drifting down. Aline, filled with sympathy, turned to her and enveloped her in a tight, comforting hug. "I know, things will turn out right. Just wait," he reassured her, wiping away a tear that ran down her cheek. "He loved and will always still love you." Melody smiled at Aline, who returned the gesture. They both said their goodbyes as she went to catch up with her brother.

ଓ༉‧.⭒ֶָ֢⋆.

"He was found on the shore just off the Cape Tairn."

"It's just what this fucking city needs, another Pix mouth to feed," the officer grumbled as he and his fellow officer navigated around the metal bars in the police station to reach a figure lying beneath a blanket. With a swift motion, they ripped off the covering. "Oi, wake up!" they ordered, revealing the lone fae. "Name?" the officer asked the fae, who sat up and looked at them both. "Name," the officer repeated impatiently. "Vign. Vign Stonemoss," the fae replied, meeting the man's gaze.

"Not yours, you daft thing, the sodding ship that went down," the officer snapped in annoyance. His comrade, looking at the note-board, chimed in, "Oh, uh, Deliverance, I think it was."

"Yeah, and you boarded her where?" the officer questioned, eyeing Vign, who looked down. "Near Anoun. Off the coast," Vign replied. The officer with the note-board commented, "They're smart, these Critch runners. Sailing up and down the coast just clear of Pact cannons, eh?"

"Eh, not smart enough to keep clear of the winter squalls, though, are they?" the officer added. Vign, his voice quiet, asked, "What happened to the others?" He looked up at the officer, who replied, "All lost but you, handsome." The statement weighed on Vign's heart, and tears began to build up. "They wouldn't let us out of the hold, even when the ship started taking on water," Vign explained. The comrade officer took Vign's arm and lifted him up as they started walking out of the cage. The officer with grey muttonchop remarked, "If they let you out of the hold and you'd winged ashore, you wouldn't be worth nothing to 'em, now would you?"

"Who are you contracted to?" the officer asked. "I don't know. Only that it was two years' work for the passage," Vign replied, looking at the man as he moved his arm out of the others' grip. "All right. Get him processed. And find out who this ship is registered to, and make sure he gets where he belongs," instructed the officer's comrade. Another officer handed him a folder. "This way. Go," the comrade said, urging Vign to move.

A few moments passed, and the officer returned with a man who had blonde hair cascading down to the collar of his shirt, wearing a brown vest, a black blazer, grey pants, and polished black shoes-clearly displaying his class. The man took a seat in front of the bald, grey-muttonchopped officer at the desk. Meanwhile, Vign sat on a bench, observing the surroundings as policemen walked by. His crestal blue eyes were red, suggesting silent tears. "Lost at sea," the man said, looking down. "Surely, Mr. Spurnrose, you understood the risks involved?" the officer remarked. "Apparently not," Mr. Spurnrose replied, looking at the officer. "I'm... I'm afraid I tied up a considerable portion of my family assets in this enterprise."

"Uh, I was approached to fund the purchase and refurbishment of the... the Deliverance as a passenger vessel in return for a share of the profits earned in bringing these..." Mr. Spurnrose stumbled through his words, meeting the gaze of the fae whose eyes conveyed both brokenness and intimidation. He then shifted his attention back to the officer. "Desperate wretches to our shore. It's not illegal." After a brief glance downward and back up, he added, "Is it?"

"No," the officer replied, an amused smile playing on his face. "But it ought to be, if you ask me. We have more than enough Critch here already, thank you very much. Now, as to the disposition of this here Pix," he gestured to Vign. "He's indentured for the price of passage. 50 guilders. You can sell that contract to someone else, or you can keep him as a domestic. Your choice." Mr. Spurnrose looked at Vign, and as their eyes met, he saw the lingering flame of intimidation within those broken blue eyes.

𓇢𓆸 𓆤 𖧧 𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𖧧 𓍊𓋼 𔓘

By: SilverMist707

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