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[Rohka]

25th of Fall, 517 AV

“Miss, only authorized individuals are allowed to enter.”

The guard looked down at her, thick eyebrows scrunched together and casting a shadow over his gaze. Rohka glanced behind him through the massive, iron gates, into the vast and busy courtyard, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man she wished to see.

“Miss,” he stressed, his patience wearing thin. The sibyl brought her free hand to her hip to help herself look like she did indeed have authority, without having to delve into who she really was. She knew she would try her gosh-darn hardest this time — she’d left far too early yesterday, she gave up too easily. In fact, she wasn’t quite sure why she was trying so hard in the first place.

No, she knew why. The man she wanted to see had convinced her that just his name would be enough for the guards to open to the gates to her. As if he could snap his fingers and make feeble creatures do his bidding. Rohka had faith, she had hope, she even had the deepest sense of awe for the men of his kind — for the men that served Rhysol. And yet here she was, yet again, trying to convince this guard that she had permission to go through. Had she been lied to? Was there a misunderstanding? Did she get the name wrong? Rohka was determined to find answers.

The sibyl conjured up her best image of Grayson’s anger in her mind and tried to emulate it; cheeks drawn in, eyes pointed, jaw locked. She reminded herself of her goal and spoke as clear and as sternly as she could,

“I’m here to see Elias Caldera. Ask for him. It’s a simple request, and as a citizen of Ravok and a devoted child of Rhysol, I expect to be treated with at least a modicum of care. I will not leave until I have an answer to his existence at the Vitrax.” she paused, unsure if that was enough.

The lightness of her aura and the bubbling spirit of her tone made it difficult to seem even an ounce intimidating. Rohka stood, her unwavering resolve causing the guard to groan involuntarily.

“Miss, I’ve told you. You cannot enter. As a citizen with no emergency, your request is of no importance. If you insist any further,” he leaned forward, the staff in his hand pointed behind her. “You’ll be forced to leave.” The guard snapped back to his original, rigid position and paid no heed to the sibyl, his blank gaze watching the passersby. Rohka stomped her foot and converted back to being herself; frustrated, upset, and a little insulted by the lack of any changes to the guard’s stance. It had been a while since she couldn’t have her way of things, and it felt excruciatingly annoying, to say the least. She knew she wasn’t a child despite calling herself one a few ticks ago. She knew that if she wanted to make something happen, it was her responsibility to do everything in her power to get it done. The knowledge of what she needed to do stayed hovering in the back of her mind as her thoughts raced between feelings of humiliation and outrage.

If she had to be forced to leave, so be it.

“Sir, I will indeed insist on at least some information on the man that I seek! I don’t require entry, okay? If you could just tell m—“

Rohka was cut off by the guard’s sudden salute. She turned to see who he saw and gasped, quickly turning back and squeezing her eyes shut, wishing she could disappear.

“Good morning, Mr. Calico! Right this way,” the guard signalled the men controlling the gates. The iron bars began to screech and grate against the ground as they heaved them open.

[Rohka]

Mattias Calico nodded as he walked up to the young sibyl, recognizing her immediately and smirking at her reaction. The Calico was a broad, tall man with an air of influence around him; his unkempt, rugged beard contrasted the tailored look of his dark, double breasted trench coat, with a hatchet belted to his hip. He walked with pride, a confidence that could only come from the deep knowledge of his own ruthless competence. Mattias was here with a purpose. No more, no less. He crossed his arms as he stood next to the woman he’d once called his niece and spoke louder than one may deem necessary,

“Ah, Rohka! Long time no see, kid. Good to see you,” he cocked his head and glared into her eyes as he smiled, the disappointment dripping through the screen of a friendly reunion. It only took a split of a tick for him to grab her by her sling-less elbow and pull her along,

“You’re coming with me. Guards?” They nodded without another word as Rohka gulped her guilt and fear as far down her stomach as she could. It was just her luck. Instead of being forced to leave, she was being forced inside.

Her memory flashed back to when she got up that morning, her daily ritual of picking a Lheroa card for the day, and she’d gotten the card with a solider riding a horse—her intuition saying ‘recognition’, ‘leadership’, ‘self-confidence’. There was no telling what it meant for her until it flashed back to her mind in this moment: She would not ask questions. She would not speak until spoken to. She obeyed and she followed, eyes downcast.

But she boiled with contempt from within.

“You there,” he pointed to a scrawny blond doing jumping jacks by the barracks. “Find Rialden. Tell him that Mattias is here to brief the Lark soldiers. I need at least 3 men, and whoever else is able to leave for the lakeshore today, as long as they’re skilled and efficient. I have an assignment.”

“Yes sir!” The blond saluted quickly and rushed inside.

It was always a wonder to watch her uncle command the world around him. She’d admired his leadership and learned from it all throughout her childhood. Even now, by demanding the scrawny young man to do his bidding, he’d gained authority. It showed that he had the power to produce results. He’d earned that respect—though whether he deserved it was an entirely different matter.

“Now, you,” Mattias turned Roh about to face him. He surveyed her lithe figure, dressed in a dark green shirt with wide sleeves, a corset around her waist, and long black boots. She seemed well-fed and capable, despite the injured arm. He knew she’d be useful. “You’re coming back to the company today.”

“But—“

“No ‘but’s. That’s an order.” Roh furrowed her brows as she shifted her gaze away from him, her voice weak.

“What do you need,” she didn’t ask it as a question. She simply stated it, in practised obedience. If Mattias wanted something, he would get it—by any means necessary. She didn’t wish to be treated to her uncle’s cruelty—the sibyl wasn’t one of the slaves that he’d loved to rear—so she settled for coercion.

“You’ll mark the trees we need to cut down. I know you remember how to do it,” he paused, watching her sullen face staring off to the side. She reminded him so much of his sister’s stubbornness. It was so eerily similar that he couldn’t help but soften his voice a tad, remembering that he’d need her to have trust in both their business and their family.

“Roh, we’re busy. There's a road being built, there’s a new platform, and uh,” he stopped to remember what type of building it was that they had to design. It’d be the first of its kind in Ravok, and he’d been perplexed by it at first—he had simple entertainment needs. He doubted he’d ever go to a—“A theatre. We’re building a theatre. And the Larks want us to get the job done in their name. We need all the help we can get, so you’re coming with us. I’m not letting you out of my sight until we get on the boat leaving for the lakeshore, so once we’re done here, we’re going straight to pack up your things for a few nights at home. Got it?”

Rohka crossed her good arm under her sling and turned her eyes back onto her uncle. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, no matter how badly she wanted to refuse.

“Yes, Mattias.”