The Revolt | SLOW UPDATES

| Chapter Six |

"Farrah," Maxwell announced the next day in his house, "Meet Kira. She's going to be your key to the prince."

Farrah crossed her arms and looked over the young women standing next to him. She was much shorter than herself, at only 5'3, but whatever she lacked in height was made up for in spunk.

"Hello!" Kira jumped forward and reached out hand enthusiastically, "I'm Kira, it's so nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," Farrah said in an overly sarcastic voice, a fake smile on her face as she shook my hand.

"Ouch," Kira commented with a laugh, "Feisty, I see. I like it. So you're interested in the prince, yeah?"

Farrah blinked and paused for a moment, shooting a look at Maxwell. Interested in the prince? He bit his lip and replied for her, "She's always...admired the prince since I met her so many years ago."

"Oh, I see!" Kira smiled, "I imagine all young ladies feel the same. I mean, he is quite the handsome man; I don't blame you."

Farrah's lips were set into a straight line as she forced a nod. Me? Admire the prince? Heck no! Maxwell cringe, as if reading her thoughts, and proceeded to turn back to Kira.

"So, you'll be able to teach her some tricks and all that?" he asked.

Kira nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely! You can go on and do what you must while we spend some time chatting."

Maxwell sighed in relief. Before he left the room, he sent Farrah an apologetic smile, but she already felt like she was going to explode. This plan better be good, or else I will kill him.

"So, Farrah," Kira snapped her out of her thoughts, "Let me tell you a bit about the prince..."

Here we go.

_____

"Get back here, you...you thief!"

The Seeker dodged the rich man of High Society who had lounged at them, narrowly missing their cloak. Before racing out of the expensive shop, they left a scribbled note on the counter and dashed off, the goods in hand. The Seeker smirked, recalling the words on the note.

As much as I'd like to apologize, I am in good conscience knowing that I am only taking back what you have stolen and returning it all to their rightful owners. 

The wretched Darek Woods, an elite member of High Society, owned many homes of those in Low Society. Whenever rent wasn't paid on time, he would simply take their most treasured belongings--at worst, he would take everything and kick them out. 

Because of this, the Seeker regularly went to his expensive shop to give the citizens their belongings back, yet he never seemed to catch on to their system. Surely, he should have realized by now that they come at dusk every visit and leave a new note. He must not have been the brightest student, is all they could conclude on the matter.

The Seeker climbed up onto a roof with the bag of goods slung over their shoulder and raced across the rooftops to get to the epicenter of Low Society, where those who were the poorest lived. As they jumped across the last roof from their destination, a figure suddenly appeared, standing in front of them. In surprise, they stopped short, nearly missing the landing. They recovered quickly and stood on guard, hand hovering over the knife at their belt, ready to make a run for it or defend themself if need be.

"There's no need to get defensive, Seeker; look, I'm unarmed. A woman, at that."

The Seeker frowned, but their hand didn't leave their side, still ready to pull out the weapon. A servant of High Society, perhaps? A spy? Maybe a rebel-

"Have I passed?"

The Seeker tilted their head to the side in confusion. Passed what?

"The test," the young woman replied, "I can assure you, I'm no threat. I've passed your test, am I correct?"

Shaking their head, they took a step back, ready to run at any given moment.

"Wait!" she jumped forward, causing me to flinch, "I just have a question for you. Is it true that you're planning a revolt against the Kingdom? Because if so, I'd like to join you. See?" she pulled out a knife of her own, "I have a weapon. I can defend myself. I can fight! I-"

They held up a hand to signal her to be quiet. Darn you, secret identity! They bit their lip, preventing themself from saying a word as to keep their identity safe--a secret.

"Are you mute or something?" she narrowed her eyes. They could only shake their head head in reply. "Well then, why don't you speak? Are you planning a revolt or not?"

To the entire world, I'm always planning a revolt, they thought to themself, rolling their eyes, but who's the say they aren't right? What am I really seeking?

Slowly, they shook their head in reply once again to answer the strange woman's question. She sighed and turned her gaze towards the outer wasteland, where the Gorge was located, and where people go and never return--including the King's own spy, Mark Atticus.

"Well then," the young woman spoke once again, "Do let me know if you ever do decide to revolt. I'm waiting for the day when we'll be free."

As she turned to walk away, down into the house blow their feet, she cast the Seeker one last glance and said, "Whatever you're seeking, let us know what it is soon. We're all counting on you, Seeker. You're our last hope." With that, she disappeared off the roof.

Our last hope. The words continued to ring through their ears as they continued on their way to return the goods. They don't know me. They don't know what I'm seeking--even I don't know what I'm seeking. Yet they put all their trust in me.

From that day forward, the Seeker knew they couldn't let the people down, no matter the cost. All these lives, burdened by the Crown, were counting on them.

Action is needed. And not just by anyone--it's needed by me.