Whispers out of Time

Chapter 12

─────⋅˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋅─────

Together, Amren and Elian set off towards the lower city of Talseth, navigating the familiar yet secretive path Amren had used before. The secret passageway, known only to a few, was nestled in the shadows of the upper city, a hidden conduit to the world below. As they descended, the air grew cooler, the sounds of the upper city fading into a hushed silence, replaced by the distant echoes of the lower city's life.

The passage was narrow and dimly lit, winding its way down like a serpent. Amren led the way, her steps sure and quiet, with Elian following closely behind.

The closeness of the walls and the weight of the city above them lent an air of claustrophobia to their journey, but Amren's focus was unwavering. She had traversed this path before, each step taking her further away from the world she knew into one that held secrets she needed to uncover.

Upon emerging into the lower city, the contrast was immediate. The air was tinged with the smells of street food and the sounds of a bustling populace. The buildings were tightly packed, their walls telling stories of age and wear. This was a place where life was lived openly, raw and unfiltered.

Elian, understanding the need for discretion, quickly donned his disguise kit. It was a collection of various garments, make-up, and small prosthetics designed to alter one's appearance.

With practiced hands, he began to transform himself, applying subtle changes to his facial features, altering the color of his hair, and donning clothes that blended with the local attire. The disguise was not just about changing one's appearance; it was about adopting a persona that could navigate the lower city unnoticed.

Amren watched Elian's transformation with a mix of admiration and impatience. As a changeling, her own disguise required no kit, just a shift in her form.

Concentrating, she called upon her innate abilities, her features reshaping to mimic someone she had encountered months ago in the lower city—a young woman with inconspicuous features, easily overlooked. It was a form she had practiced, ensuring her anonymity in a place where being recognized could mean trouble.

Once they were both disguised, they blended into the crowd, two anonymous faces among many. The lower city was a maze of streets and alleys, bustling with activity and ripe with information for those who knew how to listen. Amren felt a surge of adrenaline, a mix of excitement and apprehension. This was her element, where the pursuit of knowledge met the reality of the world outside her books and classrooms.

Elian, now unrecognizable in his disguise, kept close to Amren. His usual confident demeanor was replaced by a cautious alertness, a recognition of the unpredictable nature of the lower city.

Together, they moved with purpose through the bustling streets of the lower city, their steps measured and cautious. The diversity of the lower city was palpable, a stark contrast to the uniformity of the upper city, all coexisting in this cramped space where the struggle for survival was a daily reality.

The air was thick with the scents of street food, the sounds of haggling vendors, and the distant strains of a busker's lute. Buildings, worn and huddled together, leaned over the narrow streets, their windows like watchful eyes.

The vividness of the lower city, however, couldn't mask the underlying current of poverty and desperation that ran through it. Tattered awnings, walls begging for repair, and the weary faces of its inhabitants spoke of hard lives lived on the edge of subsistence.

Elian, taking in the vivid scene around them, turned to Amren. "Where are we going?" he asked, his voice low to blend in with the hum of the crowd.

Amren kept her gaze forward, her eyes scanning the environment with practiced vigilance. "An old friend," she replied curtly, offering no further explanation.