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Jan Xiaoli stands on the rampart of Ryningare City, looking inside instead of out. The wind is harsh up here, tugging at his woolen cloak and biting redness into the dark bronze skin of his cheeks. Jan tolerates the discomfort because this is the best spot to oversee the preparation for the Market.
Once a year, the gates of Ryningare City open to everyone who wishes to buy or sell. Ryningare’s citizens are looking forward to the rare opportunity to meet with outsiders. The event brings a lot of joy, and additionally, a lot of trouble. Bargaining often turns into haggling, and haggling can end in a brawl. Some misunderstandings between the citizens and the visitors can be laughed off, but others can lead to serious problems.
Jan Xiaoli ponders all the things that could go wrong and how to prevent them as he watches the traders prepare their stands on the town square, re-settlers next to scavengers. It’s his job to ensure everything goes smoothly, and the weight of responsibility hinders his excitement for the event.
The loud sound of engines cuts off his train of thought. He looks over the city’s fortification. Formed in a perfect V like a flock of ducks, a group of motorbikes approaches the gates of Ryningare City, raising a cloud of dust. Jan Xiaoli’s heart picks up its pace, because such a sight usually means danger. It’s the time of the Market, though, and he recognizes the flag the gang leader is holding above his head. These scavengers are allies coming to trade.
Walking to the nearest watchtower, Jan thinks about all the rare goods the scavengers might offer. He hopes they bring soap. He likes soap, and none of the alternatives re-settlers produce can compare to the before-the-End stuff scavengers trade with.
The moment he descends the ladder in the watchtower, he hears someone calling his name.
There’s another reason he likes it on the rampart; it’s the only place where he can be alone with his thoughts.
“Leader Xiaoli, an incident at the front gate needs your attention,” a young man announces, a little out of breath. Jan recognizes him as one of the guards assigned to oversee the outsiders entering the city.
“What happened?” he asks, already following the guard to the front gate.
“The Mye gang has arrived to trade.”
“Yes, I saw them. What’s the problem? I granted the Mye gang a pass a long time ago. You didn’t let them in?”
“We did, but it’s not them we have a problem with. Somebody who doesn’t have a pass arrived with them,” he explains.
“And? Have they come to trade?”
“That’s what he says, but we don’t trust him, Leader Xiaoli. He could be dangerous.”
That gives Jan Xiaoli pause.
“What makes you think that?” he asks.
“It’s the Vulture,” the guard half-whispers, as if the name should mean something.
Jan Xiaoli raises an eyebrow. Before he can reveal that it doesn’t ring a bell, they arrive at the front gates where other guards gathered as well as a bunch of nosy townspeople who have no business being here other than being lured by the sensation of the Vulture coming.
Jan Xiaoli takes a deep breath and crosses his arms over his chest.
“So, who’s going to tell me what’s going on?”
It’s hard to make sense of the ruckus that ensues. Jan only picks a few of the loudest exclamations.
“He’s Shi Saxe, the Vulture.”
“He lives alone in the Wilds and kills everyone that crosses his path.”
“He wears a weird beak-like mask. Nobody knows why. Maybe he’s mutilated!”
“I heard he’s actually half-bird.”
“Or turns into one! They say he has supernatural powers.”
“He’s immune to the Disease. They saw him scavenge in infected villages while there were still people alive.”
“His hair is blue because he uses dangerous before-the-End substances.”
“Once he went so long without food, he almost died, and the only thing he found to eat was a human corpse!”
Jan Xiaoli makes a disgusted face at the last one and waves his hands to stop the flow of rumors.
“These all sound like tall tales to me,” he says with his hands still raised in a placating gesture. “I will talk to the guy and see what brings him here.”
“Be careful, Leader Xiaoli,” somebody calls after him.
Jan Xiaoli smiles over his shoulder. “If he tries to eat me or steal my soul, you have my permission to shoot him.”
A peal of nervous laughter follows him through the one-person door next to the big front gate.
The wind immediately slams into him, ruffling his dark hair, loosening it from the leather tie that holds his short ponytail. He wraps his cloak around himself and shields his face from the dust.
The man is waiting quite far from the gate. Jan wonders if he wants everyone on the rampart to see him or to be ready to escape if the city’s inhabitants decide he’s an enemy.
The Vulture is leaning against his bike, which is a beast of a machine to Jan Xiaoli’s eyes — scratched and rusty but powerful. He’s tall and thin but not in the way of someone who starves. There’s enough muscle on his bones to make him efficient in a fight. His dark brown jacket and pants with many pockets are distinctly before-the-End, and he’s wearing an ugly mask on his head. Jan notices the beak-like shape but doesn’t get a good look because while he walks closer, the scavenger takes it off. He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair which is, indeed, dyed bright blue. The hair color is not what shocks Jan Xiaoli the most about his appearance. It’s his face. It’s definitely not mutilated. In fact, it’s a very handsome face — symmetrical and soft, too delicate to match his rugged visage or the rumors that precede him.
Jan can see what makes people wary of the man, though. No matter how attractive his features are, his expression is cold and closed off. He watches the world like he wants to burn it down.
“Shi Saxe, the Vulture?” Jan Xiaoli calls in place of a greeting. The scavenger cocks his head.
“It’s a stupid nickname,” he says. The words roll off his tongue lazily like he has all the time in the world at his disposal. He looks over Jan Xiaoli’s head to the rampart, and his eyes narrow.
Jan Xiaoli guesses people are gathering up there to watch the exchange.
Shi Saxe’s gaze returns to Jan — so sharp it makes him feel uneasy.
“I must be really famous if the Prince of Ryningare himself came to greet me.”
Jan Xiaoli feels his cheeks warming up at the address, but he doesn’t rise to the bait.
“My people are worried you might want to cause trouble.”
Shi Saxe sighs dramatically, eyes darting up to the audience. “What is it this time? Do I eat people or seduce all the maidens with a single look?”
Jan Xiaoli lets out a startled laugh.
Shi Saxe looks him straight in the eyes, suddenly serious.
“I came to trade,” he says firmly.
Jan Xiaoli watches him for a moment, studying his eyes, which are a strange shade of brown — lighter than Jan’s. They seem colder. Then, he takes in his stance that reminds him of a wild cat — relaxed, almost languid, but ready to attack in a heartbeat. Overall, he doesn’t see a monster out of nighttime stories. He sees a man hardened by living in the Wilds, who is used to being on his own. He doesn’t seem like a threat.
With a deep inhale, Jan Xiaoli makes up his mind.
He reaches into one of the many pockets of his overalls and pulls out a small clay medallion. He offers it to Shi Saxe, who takes it from him with a suspicious look.
“What is it?”
“It’s a one-time pass,” Jan Xiaoli explains. “Once the Market is over, you must leave, and the pass expires.”
Shi Saxe examines the round medallion, running the pad of his thumb over the indentations.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. His gaze loses its sharpness, telling Jan Xiaoli that he didn’t expect to be let in.
“You’ll find a place to leave your bike right behind the gates. Enjoy your stay,” Jan says before he heads back to the city.
He motions for the guards to open the front gate and walks through it to meet the dissolving crowd. He hopes that seeing their leader personally letting Shi Saxe in will prevent people from giving him a hard time.
“You let him in?” he hears the moment he steps into the street and fights the urge to roll his eyes at the outraged tone. Instead, he smiles and turns to face the man who’s been his friend and right hand since they were kids.
“Row! I knew you wouldn’t be far to let me know I messed up again.”
Row Aoife pouts, and for a moment, it looks like he’s about to swallow down the reprimand. Jan isn’t that lucky, though. Row takes a deep breath before he speaks, which is always a bad sign.
“You know the purists are already mad about the number of scavengers you let in, and you give the pass to the one person who’s the epitome of what people hate about scavengers?”
“Row, I don’t think having blue hair makes him a bad person,” Jan Xiaoli says and earns himself another angry pout. “Or do you believe he eats re-settlers’ children?”
“The purists-”
“The purists can pack up their stuff and build their own settlement for all I care.”
He doesn’t mean it, but the horrified look on Row’s face is worth it.
“You can’t talk like that!”
Jan Xiaoli sighs, taking pity on his friend.
“The Market isn’t about me making peace with the purists. It’s about trade. The only thing I picked up from all the crazy stories I heard about the guy is that he might have some interesting stuff to sell. Maybe some liquor? Hm?” He bumps Row Aoife’s shoulder. “I know you like the before-the-End stuff.”
He watches the fight leave Row’s body. His shoulders slump, and he unclenches his teeth.
“They say he crossed the Rift,” he mutters.
“There’s no way across the Rift,” Jan laughs. “And if he did cross it, he must have great stories to tell. We should invite him for a drink and ask him.”
Row Aoife makes a disgusted face, but he finally seems ready to leave the topic. To no surprise, it’s only to pester Jan with something else.
“Have you prepared the speech for the opening ceremony?”
Jan Xiaoli groans. “Do I have to? Can’t I just say welcome and enjoy?”
“You are the leader of Ryningare City –” He starts in a serious tone like many times before. As usual, it only prompts Jan to be as difficult as possible.
“Why aren’t you the leader? You’re much better at this stuff.”
“Because people need someone they can love.” That takes Jan by surprise and makes his chest feel uncomfortably tight. He tries to laugh the feeling off.
“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself!” he says, wrapping his arm around Row’s shoulders. “People love you too. I love you!”
Row Aoife’s serious face finally breaks into a small smile.
“You still have to prepare the speech.”
Jan Xiaoli groans again and lets go of him.
“Buy turnips!” he exclaims. “That’s going to be my speech. We have entirely too many turnips.”
Row Aoife tries to look exasperated, but Jan knows he’s fighting back a laugh.
***
Jan Xiaoli grabs the plank that will serve as a beam of one of the Market stands and looks at Commander Paine, who’s holding the other end.
“On three,” Anabia Paine says. With her height and build, she could build the stand on her own, but Jan Xiaoli wanted to feel useful. With the two of them, putting the stand together is brisk work. Once they are done, they step back and let the stand’s owner inspect the result. Visibly satisfied, the old merchant nods and gives them a nearly toothless grin.
“Thank you so much,” she says, shaking their hands before she points to baskets of her goods. “Have some dried fish for your trouble.”
Commander Paine laughs and pats the old woman’s shoulder. The woman looks like she might break under Anabia’s touch. She’s small and fragile in contrast to Anabia’s vibrant strength, and the color of Anabia’s skin — almost as dark as the black leather of her armor — makes the merchant look washed out.
“We’ll come to buy some tomorrow,” the commander says with a kind smile that might surprise someone who doesn’t know her. Anabia Paine is the most intimidating person Jan knows, especially when she’s wearing her armor, but she has a soft heart.
They wave the merchant goodbye and continue walking around the plaza, looking for someone who needs their help.
Ryningare’s central plaza is simply a large square area paved with concrete — the only part of the original before-the-End structure that Jan’s predecessors didn’t build over. The rest of the city is plastered on top of the old buildings — new little houses made of wood and metal junk crammed in every possible place like mushrooms growing on a fallen tree. Jan can only guess what the original purpose of the plaza was, but ever since the start of the re-settlement, it was used for gatherings and as the training grounds for the city’s guards. Its bare and impersonal nature makes it Jan’s least favorite part of the city. The memories of his gruelling military training don’t improve the impression at all.
On the eve of the Market, though, the plaza is changed beyond recognition.
Every inch is filled with stands and baskets displaying colorful goods. Once it’s crowded with people, it will be almost suffocating, but Jan loves it.
“Anabia! Jan!” someone calls from one of the stalls. Jan grins when he sees the young woman waving at them.
“Vadha!” Commander Paine calls back and hurries to hug her sister.
They hold little resemblance to each other. Vadha seems like a child in Anabia’s powerful embrace even though she’s only a few years younger than Jan. She’s wearing her hair loose in a cloud of dark wiry curls. Jan wonders if Anabia’s hair would look the same if she didn’t shave it on the sides of her head and braid the rest. He has an even harder time imagining her in the simple dress her sister is wearing.
Living in Ryningare, Anabia doesn’t see her family often. Jan is an only child, and having never left the place he was born, he can only imagine how important it is for Paine to see the youngest of her siblings.
He waits while Vadha shares news from her family. Anabia’s parents and siblings are hunters, but she took a different path after scavengers attacked their little settlement. A group of Ryningare soldiers saved little Anabia’s life and inspired her to become one of them.
“Leader Xiaoli, look at the exquisite furs I came to trade with.” Vadha turns to him when she’s done recounting current events and shoves a dark brown pelt into his face. Jan laughs and pets its fluffy hair.
“They truly are exquisite, but I’m afraid I don’t have much use for furs.”
She pouts her full lips. “What a shame. It would be great for the business if the leader himself bought my goods.”
“I’ll make sure to tell everyone I meet to visit your stand.”
“Promise?” she asks with a sweet smile.
Before he can confirm, Anabia scoffs and changes the topic. “We’re heading to the canteen. Are you coming with us?” she asks.
“Not today,” Vadha shakes her head, “I still have some unpacking to do.”
Anabia gives her sister a short hug before they part, and Vadha calls after Jan to not forget about his promise.
“We are heading to the canteen?” Jan asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes. You look hungry,” she explains. “Have you eaten today? We should have taken the dried fish,” she muses with a sigh.
“I ate a sweet bun in the morning,” he says, then realizes that was the wrong answer. It’s nearly dusk.
He tries to make himself seem smaller in case she decides to cuff him on the head. Instead, she gives him one of her concerned motherly looks, which is worse.
“I don’t understand how someone who’s so bad at taking care of himself can be in charge of the whole city.”
“Well, I didn’t vote for myself!” he exclaims in his defense.
“I didn’t vote for you either.”
“Hey!” he protests and hits her shoulder, which makes her laugh. He knows she’s only teasing. She was one of his biggest supporters during the elections.
“You are lucky I have some time before my night shift starts at ten bells,” Anabia announces. “We can have a nice dinner together.”
The canteen serves turnip soup. Jan Xiaoli eats it slowly while watching the other guests. A group is gathered around one of the tables. One half is made of teenage girls huddling together and giggling, the other of local men and women of various ages shooting curious questions at the person in the middle who’s ostentatiously ignoring them while waiting for his meal. Jan finds the scene strange until one of the men steps aside and allows Jan to see that the man who attracted so much unwanted attention is no other than Shi Saxe, the Vulture.
Tired of his lack of response, one of the men dares to touch the beak-like mask lying on the table.
Shi Saxe moves with predatory speed and slaps the man’s hand away. The man flinches with a yelp. The whole group falls silent and watches the Vulture tensely. Jan sees someone reaching for a knife.
“Don’t touch my things,” Shi Saxe growls. His right hand is under the table, no doubt resting on his gun.
Before any of the locals as much as move, Commander Paine stands up and clears her throat loudly. Several pairs of eyes turn toward her. From his point of view, Jan can’t see her face, but he knows that her gazes are as powerful as her arms, and he’s convinced she’s able to kill a man with either.
The fight drains out of the group immediately as well as their interest in the scavenger. Huffing and mumbling, some return to their tables, others leave the canteen entirely. Only the girls stay, staring at Shi Saxe with equal parts fear and fascination. He looks up at them.
“Do you need something?” he asks in a tone so cold it can cut. They scatter like a flock of birds after a gunshot.
Anabia Paine drops on the bench with a sigh.
“I hate the Market.”
“I hate turnips,” Jan Xiaoli grumbles into his bowl.
She ignores him, too focused on her own complaining. She tells him about a brawl she had to break up earlier.
“I should be defending the city from the dangers outside, not from the people inside. That’s your job,” she says, pointing at him with her spoon.
Jan shrugs. “At least you can use weapons. I only have words.”
“We’re all lucky you’re so good with them then,” she grins. “By the way, I talked to Row Aoife, and he wanted me to –”
“No, please, don’t bring up the speech,” he groans, “you were supposed to be my friend.”
Her laughter is cut off by the sound of bells. Her shoulders slump.
“Nightshift at the gates. I have to go. Be a good boy and prepare the speech. And get some sleep, so you look pretty when you deliver it tomorrow.”
“You’re leaving me? No, stay!” He grabs her hand and makes a pitiful face. “I’m the leader. I can re-assign someone for the shift. Don’t leave me alone.”
She huffs and wrenches herself free from his grip.
“You’re only trying to put off working on the speech, aren’t you? “
Jan pouts. “Maybe,” he draws out.
“If you want to kill some time and are up for a challenge, try talking to him.” She looks over her shoulder where Shi Saxe is eating his soup. “See if he bites your head off,” she adds.
Jan watches him for a moment. He bets the guy wants to be left alone, but Jan is tempted to approach him. He hates prejudice and would never form an opinion about someone based on rumors. Even after he saw him being prickly, he refuses to believe that Shi Saxe is some monster. It’s especially hard to believe the rumors while watching him eat turnip soup. He doesn’t fit in the canteen with his blue hair and before-the-End clothes, but other than that, he looks utterly innocent.
Shi Saxe looks up and meets Jan’s eyes. Jan looks away to find Anabia has vanished. He wonders how long he’s been staring at the scavenger. The canteen is almost empty. This time tomorrow, it will be filled with music, dancing, and general merriment that always accompanies the Market, but there are only a few visitors right now. Jan briefly thinks about going home but dismisses the idea. He braces himself with a deep breath and walks to Shi Saxe’s table.
“So, are any rumors about the Vulture true?” he asks as he sits down on the bench opposite him.
He expects to get snubbed like the other nosy locals, but Shi Saxe looks up and cocks his head.
“Are any of the rumors about the Prince of Ryningare true?”
Jan Xiaoli frowns, taken aback by the question.
“I’m not a prince. I’ve been elected,” he opposes, folding his arms across his chest. “And I have no idea what people say about me outside the city.”
Shi Saxe’s eyes slide over Jan’s face and what he can see of his figure behind the table.
“At twenty, the youngest leader of a settlement. Well-loved by people. Pretty as a picture,” he lists off with a small, crooked smile curving his lips.
“I’m twenty-three now, “Jan corrects him. “And I’m pretty sure nobody says that about me.” He can feel a responding smile spreading across his own face, though.
Shi Saxe shrugs one shoulder noncommittally and returns his attention to his bowl.
“You’re trying to distract me from the fact that you’re the biggest sensation of this year’s Market,” Jan says.
Shi’s smile turns bitter before it disappears entirely.
“I don’t think sensation is the correct word,” he mutters.
Jan doesn’t know what to say. People seem fascinated by the Vulture the way they are fascinated by a natural disaster. When they showered him with questions a few moments ago, Jan felt like he was watching them poking a poisonous snake with a stick. It’s not that surprising. People tend to fear what they don’t know, especially people who spend their entire lives in one place, which applies to most of Ryningare’s citizens. Shi Saxe certainly has an aura of mystery and danger around him, which Jan suspects is nothing but a carefully cultivated front. The idea intrigues him. If he’s right, he wants to see behind that facade.
Shi Saxe continues to sip his soup in the tense silence.
“So, what are you selling?” Jan asks in a lame attempt to reignite the conversation. Shi Saxe motions toward a canvas bag on the bench next to him. Jan understands it as permission to take a look. The bag is heavy, and Jan fights with the cord that keeps it closed for a while before he can finally see what’s inside. It’s a wide assortment of things, from mechanical parts to clothes. What catches Jan’s attention are the hard lumps wrapped in plastic. He picks one up and smells it, his eyes falling shut automatically.
The smell of the soap makes him smile.
When he opens his eyes, Shi Saxe is staring at him. His gaze is so intense it makes Jan feel like the scavenger is trying to see right through his skull.
“Take it,” he says. Jan gapes at him in surprise.
“I have nothing to trade it for, but I can bring you something tomorrow,” he blurts out when Shi Saxe starts getting up.
“I told you to take it,” he says. His tone has the same sharp edge it had when he talked to the locals. It’s a clear sign that Jan Xiaoli should back off.
“Wait!” he says instead, making Shi Saxe freeze as he grabs his bag. “Since it’s your first time in Ryningare, I could give you a tour.”
Shi Saxe stays motionless for a long moment. Then, just when Jan Xiaoli accepts that he’s going to be rejected, Shi Saxe gives a small nod.
“Tomorrow,” he says.
“Sure!” Jan smiles, but Shi Saxe doesn’t see it, already on his way.
Jan Xiaoli exhales heavily. He was equally excited and nervous about tomorrow, but the prospect of getting to know Shi Saxe better tips the scales to excitement.
It’s time to go home and get ready for the Market.
***
“Have you eaten?” Jan’s mother asks the moment he opens the door. Jan lets out a long-suffering sigh.
“Yeah, Paine dragged me to the canteen.”
“Good,” she says, coming to view, dishrag in hands. Xiaoli Mara is a tall and sturdy woman. Even though her age is written all over her face, Jan finds her beautiful. Her long dark hair is braided and coiled around her head, and she’s wearing an apron over a simple gray dress.
While he’s taking off his cloak, she gives Jan a once over, looking for something to remark on. Before she can tell him whether he looks too thin or tired or that his clothes are dirty, Jan leans down to kiss her cheek. It makes her take mercy on him.
“I heard there was some excitement about a scavenger who came to the Market,” she says.
Jan Xiaoli huffs out a laugh. Ryningare is the biggest of settlements, but gossip spreads too quickly through it.
“It’s all just talk, mom. He seems like an ordinary guy to me.”
“You talked to him?” she asks, eyes sparkling. Xiaoli Mara has always supported Jan’s politics of being friendly with scavengers. She was raised by scavengers herself and settled in Ryningare as a teenager.
“Yeah. I promised to give him a tour of the city tomorrow.”
“Really? That’s amazing!” Her excitement is a bit suspicious. Jan shakes his head the moment he realizes what it is about.
“No, no, it’s not like that,” he protests.
“Like what?” she raises her eyebrows, pretending to be oblivious. “I’m just happy you’re socializing outside work, that’s all.”
“I hang out with people all the time. I dined with Paine today,” he reminds her.
She bores her warm brown eyes into him. “Paine is your commander-in-chief, and she’s taken. She doesn’t count.”
Jan scoffs. “Oh, I’m going to tell her that. She’s going to love it!”
Xiaoli Mara shakes her head.
“I’m just saying you can’t only live for the city. You need to live for yourself too. Maybe find someone significant. I’m not going to be here forever –”
“Enough!” he cuts her off, clapping his palms over his ears. “I’m leaving!” he cries out and stomps toward the stairs.
“Did you prepare your speech?” she calls after him.
“No! I’m not giving a speech,” he barks. “I’m running into the Wilds! Find a new leader!”
He hears her chuckle as he runs up the stairs.
Jan bolts the door of his room and drops himself on the bed with a sigh.
Of course, he has prepared the speech. He’s been thinking about the damn speech for days now. The problem isn’t that he doesn’t know what he wants to say but that he isn’t sure it’s what his people want to hear.
As he undresses, he goes through a checklist for tomorrow’s opening ceremony. Everything should be ready, but he’s still nervous. It won’t be easy to fall asleep tonight.
Random lines of his speech play on repeat in his head while he prepares for bed. He washes his face and changes his clothes. Folding his coveralls, he finds the hard lump of soap. He pulls it out of the pocket with a smile and smells it. A memory of blue hair and a small, crooked smile flashes through his head. He puts the soap under his pillow. The smell comforts him, and he’s asleep in a few moments.