Set Us Free [Vanya]

[Aria I. Makena]

ARIA MAKENA

Stat sua cuique dies
Mæl is me to feran
Aleto men moi nostos
C'est pour cela que je suis née

Renton. The largest city in the entire land of Caeton and its capitol. Filled to the brink with merchandise, people, trade, politics—it was a cultural mash-pot and the crown jewel of the land, not to mention being the place where the Queen kept her palace. The city was full of life and people—elves, famo, dwarves, humans—all living in the crowded streets and tall buildings. On top of all this, Renton was also the place where the council of representatives constantly badgered each other over their wars and taxes and spent hours upon days upon weeks of time intimidating the others and trying to assert what little power they had.

Aria hated these meetings with a passion. She saw the value, yes, in politics and strategy—but there was little politics that happened beyond higher faces arguing amongst themselves over long held grudges and hatred. There was little she could gain from these meetings, especially the monthly ones as opposed to the annual, and most of the time she managed to get her way out of attending. However, as an Elite, she was eventually required to do her time, despite the lesser powers Specialists held in the clan’s hierarchy. So she’d had to call upon Tego and hop upon his back along with four other Elites and Seniors, drawn from her home deep in the Eastern Mountains and travel to the never-sleeping city of Renton.

Yes, Aria supposed, she was growing restless in her stay in the Clan—itching for some sort of job. Erwin—her, well, mentor or handler of sorts (though that was a while ago when she still was considered young enough to need supervision)—had also come along. She suspected he had been ordered to, rather than by his choice or turn like he said, in order to keep an eye on her. Yes, it was technically her first ‘mission’ or outing since her last, but honestly it was about time—and if they wanted her to remain a part of this clan she was going to have to get back into cycle sooner or later. Still, even understanding their reasoning, it was still a little irritating to have them drag her across the country as some sort of experiment or test-run. Yes, she was still… recovering, but she was better. She was fine. She was ready to get back.

Really.

“What do you mean stay here?” Aria narrowed her eyes, hands crossing each other behind her back as she glowered upwards at Erwin in front of her.

The man wasn’t fazed by the edge in her voice, however, steel grey eyes meeting her own steadily. “I mean what you heard. It would be best if you remain here.”

“Remain here?” she repeated, eyes narrowing further. “As in here at the Inn as opposed to there at the Council where I am supposed to be and came several hundred miles for?”

Erwin raised a brown eyebrow at her. “Exactly.”

“Why.” It wasn’t a question.

“You know why,” the man replied firmly. “You’re volatile.”

“I am controlled,” Aria snapped back.

“But not from what I’ve seen,” Erwin shot back, and it was the blunt edge to the statement that had Aria lowering her chin, averting her eyes in an almost hurt that she wouldn’t quite allow herself to feel. Erwin sighed, obviously realizing his mistake, rigid stance softening in the slightest. “Look here,” he amended, “I know you are trying—which is more than I ever expected from someone in your condition. But it is too soon for you to be entering a politically aggressive environment.”

“Too soon?” she asked before she could stop herself. “They argue over taxes and bread and coin. That’s hardly aggressive.”

“But it is infuriating,” Erwin shook his head. “I know. This was a trial run for you. This was designed to be for your wellbeing. An escort mission. Small steps to larger ones. You will remain in this city and not step a foot inside the palace walls. It is too soon, understood?”

No. Not at all.

“Understood, sir,” Aria managed, stoning her face from showing too much of her irritation before stalking back towards her room without being dismissed.

***

The archer was not planning on going to the palace. No, she knew that would only get herself further in trouble and set her back in progress. Aria instead, after only a few hours of sulking, decided to attend to the city. She had only been inside its walls a handful of times before, and she knew it would be a while before she could come back. Aria hesitated with deciding whether or whether not to wear her the heavy red and gold cloak that defined her uniform—there were mixed reactions about tamers inside the city walls—but ultimately decided to keep it on. What did it matter if people knew? It may just make them less likely to bother her—or if they did, it might be a good vent to get rid of all this irritated energy she had stored up.

And so Aria made her way down to the center of the city as evening came about. While she really had no interest in sampling the market or the pubs, there was a weaponry forge she knew was famous somewhere in the center of the city. Ontop of that, there was also a bakery Liana always talked about—something about one of the breads with raisins inside always being so delicious. Maybe she could bring some back home for—

Aria stopped in the dark veil of the night, suddenly pulled out of her thoughts as she realized how empty in fact the streets where. While the road she was on wasn’t particularly lined with markets, Aria had visited enough to know that twilight was a time where the streets were always packed and full of people. At the very least, there should at least be a few handfuls of people on their way home. Here—here there was nothing. The brunette fingered the edge of the bow strapped always to her back very subtly, eyes gleaming as they flickered about the deserted street. Eerily empty, the only sound that could be heard was the faint wind that had picked up through the streets.

A noise.

Aria turned on her heel, pivoting quick with an arrow already drawn and aimed before she had really registered what she was seeing. On hair trigger, the young woman peered into the shadows at the figure standing there out of her original line of site, two fingers standing between the release of an arrow into a shadowy neck, the rough string of her bow, the soft brush of feather against her cheek all so familiar and fluid.

But she did not fire—she had more self-control than that. Instead, Aria peered at the figure, eyes dark and voice gruff. “Who’s there?” she asked sharply.