Hunting Wilders Part 2

[Cirus]

Caemlyn. An ancient city, at least by the standards that Cirus was used to. Despite the destruction wrought in the last battle, the city had bounced back rather quickly. Less than 150 years after its reconstruction and much of the city was rebuilt as if there had been no war. To men like Cirus, it appeared that the city always was, standing strong and true. Many called its streets home, many more passed through them on their way somewhere else. There were tales of the city older than the last battle, older than even the breaking some claimed, though he had no idea nor did he care to question them. For Cirus, the streets were never really home, just a place he’d once lived. The tales about the city were meaningless to him, as they were too many who still struggled on the streets. It was a place he’d been at, a place that had forced him to run and hide at times. The city was never home, it was a constant source of fear. That fear had manifested into frustration at times and had barely left him alive when he was much younger.



Returning it felt different, he never imagined he’d return to this city. He hadn’t thought much about the legion he would one day serve but imagined that whatever his duties he wouldn’t be required in the city of his birth. Unlike many who grew up here, his opinion of the people here wasn’t the greatest. While Gareth had been the first real friend he’d ever had, and Ishara had been nothing but kind to him since meeting him on the street that day, it was hard to forget the years he spent on the streets. While no fault of the royal family, and certainly not something they would tolerate if they knew about individual cases, his past experiences simply left a bad taste in his mouth when thinking about the city. Even now, riding into the traveling grounds outside of it he could feel the back of his throat become dry and his joints ache as if the morning cold had gripped him. He shook it off, that was the past and he was here on a mission. The captain had been clear, they were here to help someone who had been in a situation similar to his. Someone who could possibly be near death already.



Cirus reached up and touched the sword pin on his collar, it still felt like a weight to wear it. A badge to mark his new station, and a mark of how far he had yet to come. How long ago had he left the city, with fears of what would happen to him. Terror at the man who had been sent to collect him, and the weight that he had felt leaving the city. This time he returned not as the one being hunted, but the one seeking out. He shook his head at that thought, they were not hunting, not chasing an animal, they were looking for a lost soul.



As they rode through the gates he promised himself that he would repay the trust placed in him. Gareth should have been the one riding alongside the captain, saving another lost soul. The man had an air about him that didn’t spell a threatening death to anyone, well almost anyone. His manner would have put whoever they were searching for calm in a few seconds. He couldn’t be here, so Cirus would stand in his stead. He would have to, and he knew his friend wouldn’t let him chide from his duties just because he felt inadequate.

[Leander Varned]

Leander rode through the streets of Caemlyn with the Dedicated to his left. For now, he wore his usual black uniform, though he knew that the coat might have to be hidden later if the man they were searching for turned out to be afraid of them. The city, one he'd been to multiple times, was a noisy place, forcing Leander not to try to talk for the first part of the ride. Instead, he used the time to study his surroundings, taking in what had changed and what had not. When they came to a quieter part of their route, he nudged his horse towards the other man's.

Keeping his eyes on the street ahead of them, Leander bent his head towards the other man. "It's Cirus, isn't it?" he asked. He turned his head quickly to smile at the younger man, then looked back at the road. Already well aware that he had the name correct, the Asha'man continued to speak without waiting for a response. "You've probably been told to call me Captain Varned, but while we're in Caemlyn, just Leander will do."

As they closed in on their destination, Leander explained, "We're heading for one of the larger markets in the city, one which has recently seen an increase in theft. Small things only, almost always food, suggesting someone desperate enough to need to steal. That is, unfortunately, not uncommon in many cities." He paused for a minute, thinking of how he could have resorted to stealing himself as a young, hungry child. He never had, but guessed that was only because his mother had taught him not to, and why, as soon as he was old enough to understand.

Forcing himself not to dwell on memories of a childhood more than one hundred years past, Leander said, "Individually, the merchants might not have taken much notice of it, but merchants talk. A few of them found that the disappearances seemed to take place in the very early morning, right after opening, or shortly before closing, times with few people around. They thought it would be simple to identify the thief then, but none of them ever managed it no matter how carefully they watched. If not for a member of the Fire Legion noticing the remains of a weave in the market one morning, they might never have figured out what was happening."

They turned a corner, and the market came into view just a short distance ahead of them. "Now, we're not here to hand out punishment," Leander reminded the Dedicated. "All we need to do is find this man, whoever he is, and bring him to the Black Tower. Any questions?"

[Cirus]

"It's Cirus, isn't it?"

The question caught Cirus briefly by surprise. He had been so wrapped into his own thoughts that he’d forgotten for a moment he wasn’t on the mission alone. He silently chided himself for forgetting the Captain was here, he was traveling as an assistant to the captain. He needed to remember that, this wasn’t like in Saldea where he would be on his own in the streets, and they wouldn’t be facing any Black Ajah…. Hopefully.

“Yes sir.”

"You've probably been told to call me Captain Varned, but while we're in Caemlyn, just Leander will do."

“Yes sir, Capta-… Leander.”

"Now, we're not here to hand out punishment, All we need to do is find this man, whoever he is, and bring him to the Black Tower. Any questions?"

Cirus paused for a moment before answering. He’d been in this man’s position, struggling to survive and begging for scraps. He might have been younger when it happened, but he’d struggled to survive on the streets.. Clearly this man wasn’t able to beg anymore, or he simply wasn’t able to get enough by begging. Either way he knew all too well how dangerous a situation that was to be in, and how terrifying the thought of it could be.

“No questions sir but...Sir I…. I don’t mean to overstep my bounds but I… I’ve been in his situation.”

It was all too easy to remember how suspicious he’d been of strangers. Those who came through the market once, often they were the ones who had either ulterior motives or were just passing through. Being seen, even hanging around or walking around at certain points in the day. Those were the people who Cirus hadn’t noticed when he’d been around, or at least had taken less notice of.

“I may have a plan to help us find him, but it will likely take more time than following a trail.”

[Leander Varned]

"Cirus, I asked you to come with me in order to work together," Leander reminded the younger man. "I'm not going to scold you for having your own ideas about how to approach this." He smiled at the Dedicated, hoping to reassure him, then turned to look forward again as they continued on their way. Though he wanted to know what Cirus was thinking, Leander said nothing more until they reached the edge of the market. There, he pulled his horse to a stop directly across from the other man.

With his eyes on the Dedicated, Leander asked, "What's your plan to find the man we're looking for? Do you have any idea of how much time we might need?" He let himself look up and down the street, not wanting Cirus to feel intimidated by the necessary questions. Before he had a chance to answer, however, Leander turned back to the younger man and explained, "You and I can be here as long as we need to stay, but an untrained channeler does not have unlimited time to learn. It would be best if we could find him sooner rather than later." He continued to study the area around them, waiting patiently for Cirus to respond.

[Cirus]

The comment and smile did a lot to help Cirus nerves. He took a deep breath and tried to recenter himself, the Asha’man wasn’t going to bite his head off for asking questions. He wasn’t sure why he felt he might… perhaps too much time spent away from the full brothers on the training yard, or maybe lessons with the more militant earth legion had drilled it into him. Whatever the case he knew now that he could relax, at least when it came to talking to the captain.

Cirus stopped his horse beside the Captain and considered his question about time. He knew it would take a few days to find the man they were looking for. He had thought a day or two would suffice, after all if they could find the man channeling on the first then it would be a simple matter to grab him on the second to talk to him. That was of course assuming that he struck part of the market they were covering, it was entirely possible that their presence might put the untrained channeler off for a few days. The captain's comments certainly rang true, this man might not have a few days before he hurts someone, or himself.

Cirus stopped himself from cursing under his breath, instead he took another breath to think about their options. He cast his mind back to the days when he worked the streets. He would often try to beg for his food, or offer to run minor errands, but if the food was going missing from merchant stalls early or late… that meant, or at least implied, that whoever was doing this was sticking to the shadows. They would go unnoticed by most on the street, either because they were trying to or they just moved without a problem. Even so someone had to see something.

“Then perhaps we had best ask the local children. The merchants and shopkeepers may not make note of someone, but children in the street tend to notice new people, or people who change slightly. At least… at least I know I did when I was on the streets.”

A long shot, but it was this or spend a day or possibly more simply watching the streets and hoping that the light would bless them with a lead. Cirus preferred to be active, talking or moving toward an objective rather than sitting and watching. It was always so boring to sit and watch.

[Leander Varned]

Leander nudged his horse towards the side of the road, not wanting to be in the way while he thought. He could still see the market just ahead of them, and if he looked closely enough, he could see that at least a few of the children darting around within wore threadbare clothing that suggested they were the street children Cirus had mentioned. None of them stayed in one spot for long, and Leander had trouble imagining that any of them would be willing to speak to him instead of running from him. The Asha'man tapped his fingers against his saddle just once and turned to look at Cirus.

"Do you think they'd talk to me?" Leander asked, sincerely interested in Cirus's answer. If he had once been one of these children, he should know better than just about anyone how they might react to Leander. "I'm not sure it would be best for me to go in there and possibly startle children whose lives are already hard enough." He tilted his head and continued to think, not wanting to dismiss Cirus's suggestion outright. It wasn't a bad idea, just one Leander thought might be better suited to the younger Dedicated than someone like himself, not old, but old enough to have left childhood far behind him.

Leander kept his attention on Cirus as he took his horse's reins in his hands. "If they won't talk to me, I'd just be wasting time," he commented. It was time they did not have to waste, though he did not say so to Cirus, not wanting to put too much pressure on him. "Would you like to try to talk to them while I keep an eye out for our channeler, or should we both try learning what we can from the children?" He leaned forward in his saddle as he listened for Cirus's input. The decision would be Leander's, and he expected that the Dedicated was well aware of that. The Asha'man still considered it important to let the younger man think and listen to what he said, knowing that a day would come when Cirus would have to be able to judge what to do without input from anyone else.

[Cirus]

”Do you think they’d talk to me?”

That was a question Cirus hadn’t considered too deeply. He’d been wary of strangers, but he’d done his best to keep his head low while in the market. He doubted that any of the children wanted to talk to anyone here except maybe their friends or siblings. Offering food to some of the children might get a few of them to talk to the captain or Cirus. It also might put them on their guard when they were asked questions. Adults often thought children their age were too stupid or naive to see through a thin veil of kindness, but he’d learned at a young age to sniff out ulterior motives. He suspected the young ones here would easily figure out they were looking for someone specifically, and that would shut them up like a storehouse.

“If they won’t talk to me I’d just be wasting time. Would you like to try to talk to them while I keep an eye out for our channeler, or should we both try learning what we can from the children?.”

Cirus mulled the thought, but the more he mulled it over the worse it seemed for either of them to attempt to approach the children. When he’d discovered his own abilities he’d been terrified of anyone getting near him, he’d run away from Ishara, Elaria, and Gareth as fast as his legs could carry him. The last thing they wanted was to try to chase a young man who was a danger to himself and others through the streets of Caemlyn. They couldn’t corner him, but they had to let it be known they were here to help. The question was who would they talk to prove their point?

“We may want an intermediary to act for us… I’m certain there are some who offer food to those less fortunate, or even spare a coin every day as they pass by on their way through the market. Such people might have noticed something the merchants would not. Surely a caring soul would have noticed if our… our charge had been a rambunctious sort and was suddenly withdrawn, or if they were a new face who looked like he hadn’t been fed.”

Cirus tried to recall the names and faces of those who had done such things for him years ago. The faces he could call to mind easily enough, but the names… if he’d ever heard them he couldn’t recall them now. It seemed a lifetime ago that he’d been sleeping on the cold ground and begging for scraps on the streets of Caemlyn. He didn’t even know if any of them were still alive, and he doubted they would recognize what he’d become. Still, it seemed the best option for approaching the children.

“Approaching the children directly might not be the wisest decision, if they think we mean harm we may lose our chance forever. It’s best we start with a kind soul who might know the children and the merchants themselves, while they might not notice the food going missing when it happens they might have noticed a new face hanging around the market, Sir.”

Cirus's tone was becoming far less formal now, though still respectful. Something he might have scolded himself for back at the Black Tower, but he had a purpose to direct him. That purpose overtook all but the most ingrained habits, and with a life on the line, he’d all but forgotten that he was only working as a Dedicated. It was the drive he should have had in Saldaea. Well, better late than never.

[Leander Varned]

Leander sat back in his saddle to give the younger man some space. Cirus appeared to be thinking about the questions he'd asked, a trait the Asha'man wanted to encourage. While he waited, he turned his head to look at the market, watching people come and go. It was getting busier as the day progressed, and the street children he'd easily seen earlier were now practically hidden in the crowds. He looked towards Cirus, wondering if the Dedicated had noticed, just as the younger man began to speak. It was clear to Leander that Cirus had not only been listening to him, but had taken the time to rethink his suggestion as a result. The Asha'man nodded in approval.

"I think you're right," Leander said. His experience had told him almost immediately that going to the children directly would be a bad idea, but he considered it important to let Cirus come to that conclusion for himself. With another quick glance at the market, he commented, "Talking to the merchants certainly won't be a problem. As for people who make a habit of helping the children...there will probably be fewer of them, and maybe a little harder to find, but they'd have to be easily found by the children. It should be simple enough to locate some of them."

Eyes somewhere between brown and green met Cirus's as Leander asked, "I think we'd make more progress if one of us handles the merchants and the other the helpers, but what do you think?" He smiled at the Dedicated as he added, "And Cirus, please.....it's Leander, not 'sir'."

[Cirus]

A kind soul who might know the children. Cirus had to wonder if the woman who had helped him so often was still alive. Miss Caroline had been lightsent when he was growing up, offering assistance even when he was too proud to ask. If she was still around she would know about one who had changed recently or a new face who wouldn’t ask for assistance.

“I may know someone we can ask about the children Si… Leander.”

Would she want to talk to him? His last words hadn’t been particularly kind. As afraid as he was for his own life he’d pushed away anyone who tried to help him. He could only hope, maybe if he explained what had happened she would understand. At the very least he could explain why they were looking for him. Even if she hated him, she wouldn’t let this man die for his past mistakes.

“I can reach out to a local woman, when I was last here she worked closely with the kitchens to make sure those too proud or too foolish to try the kitchens would find a meal. I can start with her, the merchants I never bothered to learn the names of, let alone talk to any here.”

He was already steeling himself for the run-in. He could only imagine how angry Miss Caroline would be with him. No matter, there was another life on the line. He could deal with the flurry of angry words, lord knows he’d done so before.

[Leander Varned]

Leander nodded. "Well, if you already have an idea of who to speak to, why don't you go find her and I'll stay here and see what I can learn from the merchants. We can meet up back here when you're done." Once Cirus left, the Asha'man removed his black coat, placing it neatly in his horse's saddlebags, and headed into the market. Blending into the crowd, he moved from stall to stall, chatting amiably with the merchants about their wares and their customers. Getting most of them to talk wasn't much trouble, but unfortunately, none of them seemed to have noticed much that could help locate the channeler.

Still, he kept a friendly smile on his face as he continued on, studying the people around him as he walked. Leander didn't really expect the channeler would be around the market at this time of day, but he wanted to remain aware of his surroundings anyways. He did catch the occasional glimpse of a few small figures, more boys than men, slipping through the crowds. Any of them could have been the mysterious channeler, but there was no way for Leander to know just by watching them.

Eventually, he had spoken to most of the merchants, save for the few who'd been more hostile towards him, and was quickly approaching the section of the market he'd started in hours earlier. Unfortunately, Leander hadn't learned much he could use. A few of the merchants had mentioned seeing a small, black haired man lingering near their stalls in the early morning, but in a city like Caemlyn, that description didn't give much to go on. Leander was disappointed, and as he stood beside his horse, waiting for Cirus to return, he thought about other ways to catch the man. We might need to come here early in the morning or stay until after closing...or perhaps I'll have to go back to the merchants who were less willing to talk. He let himself think, but once he caught sight of the Dedicated, Leander moved towards him, away from the crowds and noise of the market. He smiled at the younger man. "Did you find out anything that might help?" he asked, and turned his head so he could hear Cirus's response.

[Cirus]

Cirus moved quickly once the order was given. The importance of time had not been lost on him, and every minute spent dilly-dallying would mean this poor soul was one step closer to a slow and painful death. The thought steeled him for a minute, gave him the courage to start moving toward the still all too familiar corner of the market again. He went over in his head what he would say, coming up with a way to address miss Caroline without sharing who he was.

That plan fell through as soon as he approached her stall, the smell of bread fresh-baked from her home wafting around the corner brought back powerful memories. For a moment he was cast back into one of his few happy memories, before remembering how he’d treated her when she tried to help him. The speech he’d prepared was cast away from his mind, he found himself standing still as she spoke to some of the children who came to greet her. He wanted to apologize, but dredging up those old wounds wasn’t something he had time for. It took everything he had to swallow his fear and approach.

“Miss Caroline… I need your help.”

For a brief minute confusion showed across her face before it split into a grin. Before Cirus could stop her she’d embraced him and immediately started bombarding him with questions. Yes, he was fine. No, he hadn’t frozen over the winter. A dozen more questions about what he’d been up to and how he’d ended up at the tower. When he’d finally answered all her questions he was able to get to his own. He had some luck, she did know of one young man who had started to act as he had. Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen him in several days. All she could give was a name and a rough description. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Cirus had before he’d met up with her. After promising to make sure the young man wouldn’t come to any harm and to write her once he’d returned to the Tower Cirus returned to the markets.

After spying Captain Leander Cirus made his way back over to him. It was starting to get later in the morning and the markets were slowly becoming more and more crowded. Cirus relayed what he’d found out to the captain, keeping one eye cast on the crowd as he talked. He hoped it wasn’t disrespectful, but time was not on their side.

“That’s all I could find out for certain Ca- Leander.”

[Leander Varned]

Leander listened without interrupting to what Cirus told him. The younger man didn't have a lot of details, but what he had learned was still more than they'd had to go on just that morning. He nodded when the Dedicated finished speaking and said, "Good work, Cirus. Some of the merchants also mentioned a short, black haired man seen around their stalls on a few mornings, so it sounds as if this is the man we need to find." Then the Captain looked over his shoulder at the packed market behind him.

Turning back to Cirus, he said, "I don't think we're going to accomplish much by staying here any longer, not with the crowds. We probably have a better chance of finding him if we come back near closing time when some of the thefts have taken place." The Asha'man's hazel eyes flickered as he studied the area around them, considering what else they could do until then. There were plenty of ways for two men to pass time, but Leander just wanted to keep working. An idea occurred to him, and he looked up at Cirus. "Do you have any idea where a young man like this Torim might go to spend the day? He surely can't be at the market all the time, that would have been noticed."

Leander went back to focusing on the area around him, not wanting the Dedicated to feel obligated to provide a quick answer. He wasn't sure if Cirus would have even the slightest idea of where the young channeler might be found or not, but he felt it was at least worth asking and seeing what he had to say.

[Cirus]

Short, black hair. It wasn’t much to go on. Still, he’d imagined that he’d been found on about as much information. He thought he’d been careful, he could only imagine this young man was thinking the same thing. They would find him, they had to find him. The alternative… Cirus didn’t want to think about that alternative, that wasn’t a fate he would wish on anyone.

Yet where he would hide? That was a question with many answers. Cirus had preferred to hide in corners or alleys where there were few people, yet he also hadn’t been bold enough to try stealing from the main market. He had relied on taking from those who handed out to children already, friendly souls who he simply didn’t wish to be seen by for fear of being reported to the Asha’man. In this scenario… the young man was bold or desperate. Both had deep implications that he couldn’t fathom easily.

“If I were in his position, I would find a safe place… A corner I had been begging from or an alley away from people. I would also make sure that I’d be in a place that no one would come by without reason, but not somewhere that was dangerous. Maybe somewhere by a warehouse, where the guards wouldn’t bother you and many people wouldn’t think to walk by. It also wouldn’t be a place where I could be trapped easily, so either at or by a crossroads…. Light!”

It hit Cirus like a wagon at full speed. There were few places like that in Caemlyn and only one near them. The old city was burned down and destroyed in the last war. Yet there was still a small symbolic difference between the ‘old’ and ‘new’ city. Yet there was one place by the markets that fit the description. If Cirus was wrong he would eat his cloak.

“The wall… He avoided stealing where he slept to keep from being seen.”

[Leander Varned]

Cirus's suggestion sounded reasonable enough to Leander, who nodded. "We'll head towards the wall, then," the Asha'man said. He glanced at his horse, tied up near the entrance to the market, then addressed Cirus again. "I think we'll want to leave the horses here for now, and you should also put your coat away," he instructed the younger man. "We need to blend in as much as we can." Once Cirus was ready, Leander led the way to the wall that enclosed the city.

As they walked, the streets grew narrower and the buildings more rundown, reminding Leander of nothing so much as the poor section of Ravinda where he'd grown up. The Asha'man moved slowly, eyes constantly studying their surroundings and checking to see if Cirus was keeping up with him. The streets were mostly empty except for a few beggars. Leander took the time to hand some coins to each of these he saw and ask if they knew anyone resembling the man they were looking for, but none of them did. Thanking the man he'd been speaking to, Leander stood and turned towards Cirus. "I'm beginning to think that the man we're trying to find may be moving around the city more than we thought. This area might be his safe place away from the market, maybe where he comes to sleep, but if he's trying to avoid being caught...he may not stay anywhere for long."

[Cirus]

Cirus nodded at the mention of the wall, he grew up in an area similar to it. It hadn’t been a great place to grow up, and when he’d run away it had been his choice to stay away from the wall. It was rough, and without anyone to watch you it could be even worse. The boy must have someone out there, or maybe he was just more familiar with the roads than Cirus had been.

The thought of leaving his coat though… that made him feel… odd. It had been a long time since he’d gone in public without it, it felt like a part of him. As he removed it to place it in the bag he shivered slightly, not because it was cold, the weather was still relatively warm. Even at the tower he’d worn his coat when going out, even on informal days he’d worn it around the tower. A mark of his life, who he was. He didn’t think he liked leaving it there, but there wasn’t much of a choice. It marked him as a man from the black tower, and if this other man saw it he might panic and try to flee as Cirus did.

The long walk from the market to the district near the wall didn’t do much to ease his nerves. The further he got away from the coat the more the old memories fought for space. The pangs of hunger seemed to return out of nowhere even though he’d eaten a full meal before they entered the city. A shiver of cold ran down his spine despite the fact that he shouldn’t have been cold. Even without the cold he had the techniques of old that fought off cold and heat, he tried to enforce it but nothing seemed to come of it. The chill remained.

When they arrived at the wall it was as Cirus remembered his own home. Buildings barely holding themselves together on the outside. The streets were still thronged with people, but their clothes were visibly shabbier, few wore bright colors and almost none rode horses. Those that did were trying to get out of the city, few people were staying around willingly.

“I’m not sure where to start now… hopefully someone can point us to a place where one might sleep.”