[Isa, Southern Laetain – Imperial(?) Year 895]
The adolescent and the wanderer, frankly have no commonalities.
The only link is The Guide.
The Guide currently conversing with the guards for passage.
Certainly The Guide suggested they get rest, yet neither closed their eyes.
As if alert and guarding against anything. However only the flame carried the light to even visibly detect anything. Centered in the shabby camp created by the adolescent and wanderer.
The wall of the city at their backs and the wilderness with wholly nothing but weathered ground, it was practically a miracle to find any wood.
More so due to the city itself.
As the night deepened, drowsiness took hold of both the adolescent and wanderer.
Between the two was only one tent.
Without The Guide, neither would rest. From the other and anything that could appear.
Despite breath becoming visible, both sat as if fine with their clothing.
When The Guide returned, they let out an expected sigh.
Silently, they grabbed the adolescent and the wanderer and gently laid them inside the warm tent.
It seems relearning was needed.
— — — —
"It's crowded."
Now let inside, the expressions of those passing by could hardly be anything positive.
[The aftereffects of relocation.]
"...Relocation?"
The Guide ignored the adolescents' words and continued walking.
The wanderer gazed at all kinds of things.
Attire precisely used for the weather. Before that is.
Now it makes the wanderer wonder if it's sweltering underneath the cotton and leather.
Comparatively, the wanderer with ripped scratchy linen and cheap wool practically looks like a beggar with a patchy cloak made from such materials.
And not very suitable to the extreme climate here.
Though looks come, they are small and short. Most ignore.
"Where are we headed?"
That too, the wanderer would like to know.
Still The Guide moves forward without so much a breath.
The wanderers' eyes slide away from The Guides back to the people walking by. Those with fretting expressions wore cheaper clothes.
Lines for food were long, and masses of people bundling together near one source of warmth were many.
Dead eyes were rather common. Complaints and cursing from anyone.
"Please! I need this job!"
"Prices are falling hard. I can't pay you without me going in the red again."
"P-Please!"
"Leave."
Some asked for money or items from others. Promising returns. Merely for some help. Staving off hungry debts.
The muffler around the wanderers neck absorbed the visible breath leaving the wanderers light breathing.
Trash littered the sides of streets and in some, filled the space with no way but to step on it.
Every sight was more and more bestial for the human race from the wanderers perspective. A minor biased thought that was abruptly stopped from continuing.
The staff of wood and metal meticulously fused elegantly, ceased noise of movement.
The wanderer looked at the adolescent that the wanderer bumped into. The adolescent looked at the wanderer with a grumpy face.
[When everything crumbles, what do you think happens?]
"A despair." the adolescent answered.
Agreeing, the wanderer nodded alongside.
[In that vein, when everything is fine, what happens?]
The adolescent marked The Guide with a questioning face. The wanderer too didn't understand.
[Come.]
The Guide beckoned and began to walk to a plaza in the center of the city.
[Falsifying and Ignoring signals of the impending is but a complacency in the mind. Likewise, that despair too is a complacency. Riddled with ignorance.]
"...Why..?" the wanderer asked.
[A building can take years to finish, but crumble in less than a minute under the right conditions. It is solely justified anger at it's destruction. Yet the intensity of that rage solicits a binding blindness. Alternatives to the after are flushed out.
Of course here, that would not apply.]
The Guide pointed to the people.
[What do you see?]
"Suffering?" the adolescent threw out.
[Certainly. However, what else?]
"Then I wouldn't know."
[Hoho. It is surplus and scarcity.]
The adolescent narrowed their eyes with even more questions that never left their mind.
[Of many things. Have you not seen it everywhere?]
The wanderer noticed the trash and people.
The turning away for people in need.
"So it comes down to money." the adolescent clicked their tongue.
[The value of everything alongside what seems to be the selling of anything for profit has caused severe issues.]
The Guide tucked their furred hand under their cloak.
[With the war draining all sources, there is never enough.]
"Wait that relocation you were talking about–"
[Of course. Demand is high. Supply is low.]
Complacency before in total faith of the system. Disruption and relocation of people to more centered cities bound by commerce. Exorbitant prices for little. No jobs for any.
[Is it not both surplus and scarcity?]
"How laughable."
[Calling it a despair is certainly the correct word. A harsh survival awaits many.]
"...Many?"
The adolescent could say that The Guide never misspeaks. Even if it seems random.
An unrelated conversation blooms into much more later.
The Guide held a small bag.
[Many are Equal.]
In the land once shrouded by clouds bringing white to the ground, the dim sun gazes.
The wind carried echoes of joy in the land.