The Decoder - Chapter 1

Edith

11th month of Year 760 of the Sola Year,

Kingdom of Rayard, Bren Street

A smile formed around the corners of Edith Alcoft’s lips. Watching the children play gave her a peace of mind. It keeps her away from unnecessary thoughts from eight years ago, thoughts that still haunted her from time to time. She leaned against the wall of the buildings made of clay and stone bricks as she watched the children play tag at a wide alley, away from the main street. The ‘tagger’ was blindfolded as the children ran around merrily; the goal was to avoid the tagger’s touch.

She imagined herself as the blindfolded tagger, finding a victim to replace her position. If only she could turn back time and revert to her six-year-old self, playing tag with her very first childhood friend.

“It’s big sister Edith!” One of the children raised her voice in excitement when she spotted Edith.

The other children turned to her direction and she was greeted with wide smiles. Edith lifted her basket filled with buns and crouched.

“I have extra red bean buns today,” she said, her voice filled with cheerfulness and warmth. The children cheered and ran to her, wanting a taste of her homemade buns. Edith handed a bun to each of the five children and watched them chewing ravenously.

“It’s delicious! Big sister’s buns are always the best!” The eldest of the group exclaimed and the rest of the five children agreed in unison.

“Thank you, Eynn. Everyone,” Edith smiled.

Baking had been a part of Edith’s life ever since her father passed away eight years ago, shot by the Royal Guards of Rayard in Falborg Forest while fleeing. Baking was part of her rice bowl, for her survival and to keep Uncle Vern’s clinic afloat. Thrice in a week, she’d sell her buns at the Marketplace for a living. She had been content with her life, but she couldn’t help feeling as if it was missing a piece, the piece she couldn’t quite discover, yet.

“It’s getting late. Be sure to return to the Orphanage on time. It’s not safe out here at night.” Edith looked up at the darkening sky, dusk was approaching, and the weather was getting chilly.

It was the beginning of winter, the season she enjoyed very much. It was her favourite season because it reminded her of the days when everything was peaceful, before her life took a 360 degrees turn.

“We’ll be heading home now. See you again, big sister!” Eynn and the rest of the children beamed and waved.

“See you all again. Be safe!” Edith waved and thought about their futures when they grow up. Without their parents by their sides, how would they thrive? Edith had to believe in them, believed that they would have a bright future, believed they have the will to overcome whatever obstacles that gets thrown in their way.

Edith watched the joyful children disappeared up the path of Aven Street and rounded a corner.

She watched a man lighting the streetlamps diligently. By his side, was a young lad whom she presumed was his son, dressed in a plain tunic shirt tucked in dark brown trousers. He adjusted his black ivy hat as he watched his father lighted the candle wick of the streetlamps.

Will he follow after his father’s footsteps? Edith thought to herself and smiled. She looked skyward at the darkening sky again. She wondered about her future, wondered if she would take over Uncle Vern’s clinic when he retires.

Edith made her way down the street, past the City Square and Bren Street where the Marketplace was located. The Kingdom of Rayard was a fairly large kingdom built on a slight sloppy hill with bricked three-story apartments lining every street, which were separated by social classes. The looming grey and white mansion of The Militia sits up north on the hill, overlooking the entire city. The only part that does not belong to Rayard was Yvyle Forest as it served as a border between the Kingdom of Rayard and the Kingdom of Hathage. There was a brewing feud between Rayard and Hathage that had been going on for the past six years after Lord Denton’s eldest son officially took over the throne of Hathage, though it does not appear to endanger the citizens’ lives, forcing them to retreat behind closed doors and living in fear. But it did not stop Edith from worrying nonetheless because war could break out anytime and she did not wish to imagine what it would be like. The prospect of war seemed terrifying.

By the time Edith reached her Uncle’s clinic in Dastren Street, dark had fallen. The street was located second closest to the Falborg forest after Eder Street. The forest she once called home and spent most of her childhood. Located next to Dastren Street was Eder Street. Visitors don’t often visit this part of the streets because to them, it was a place for the poor and they do not wish to associate themselves with the poor. To them, Eder Street was The Slums of Rayard. The citizens who reside in this part of the kingdom were not only deemed as poor, but failures to the society. Something which Edith dislike in the mindsets of the citizens of Rayard.

Thieves, smugglers, bandits.

Edith had no choice, but she preferred to keep a low profile, and her finances were always on thin line. The idea of relying on Uncle Vern bothered her although uncle had insisted that it was his duty to support his brother’s only daughter, his niece. At the legal age of twenty, she was capable of supporting herself, and she made up for the guilt by making some income from selling her buns at the Marketplace and helping out at the clinic. Her knowledge in medical was extensive thanks to Uncle Vern’s constant tutoring. She thoroughly enjoyed it, but her dream was not in the medical field. Edith loved music and the pianoforte, but realistically, her ambitions to be a great pianist seemed far away. Despite the situation, she had come to accept it and enjoy living with her uncle. Furthermore, the clinic was close to Falborg Forest, her solitude, yet her nightmare.

After bathing and changing into a simple beige-coloured taffeta dress that fell to her ankles, with a white silk sash secured around her slim waist, Edith proceeded to bake fresh chocolate and red bean paste buns in the clinic’s small kitchen for tomorrow’s sale.

“I will need to restock my supply of flour soon.” She mumbled and that means, she will need to calculate her budget for this week. Soon, the royal tax collector will be knocking on doors, collecting taxes from the citizen, and Edith had insisted on paying the taxes for this month. She heaved a sigh and decided to focus on her baking for tonight. She will need to complete it before midnight for she had an appointment at Cyel Street, the night life of Rayard.

Ten minutes before midnight, after her uncle had retired to bed, Edith donned her black overcoat and headed to Cyel Street. She had made sure her buns were in good condition and recorded her budget and costing for the ingredients in her notebook before heading out. Cold wind blew in her direction and she shivered, taking note of the fabric of her overcoat, which was slowly wearing out.

“I can’t afford a new overcoat with my current savings.” Edith muttered under her breath and clutched her overcoat. She couldn’t use her uncle’s savings to buy a new overcoat either. To her, paying for the taxes and clinic rental was the priority, she could not afford any other luxuries. If she failed to pay the taxes, the clinic would be blacklisted by the Militia and will become their target. The last thing she wanted was to be under the Militia’s radar. Providing safety and a roof over hers and her uncle’s head was the utmost importance in her life.

Edith arrived at Cyel Street’s arched entrance and she stepped into the busy street. Colourful lights and lanterns lined the entire cobblestoned pathway, and pubs and clubs filled on both sides of the long and wide street. Citizens filled every corner of the street, some were drunk, some were surveying the pubs and clubs, and some were engaged in conversations at the corner. While the street was filled with pubs and clubs on both sides, there were various shops and restaurants as well. She continued ahead, avoiding the drunkards and careful not to bump into anyone. Edith would prefer to steer out of trouble as much as possible.

She stopped before a small store in the center of the street. Its vintage iron signage read “Madam Ada’s Bookshop”. Edith stepped into the store, fortunately, there were no customers or else she would need to wait. There were times where Edith considered telling Lady Ada to change the signage, which was rusting away with old age, but she was afraid Lady Ada would be offended, for she took pride in everything that belonged to her, including this shop. She had claimed “It’s all my hardwork.” Besides, why open a bookshop in the middle of pubs and bars? The reason was beyond Edith.

“Welcome.” Lady Ada was seated at her worktable, a smile plastered on her flawless young face despite her senior age. Her jet-black hair with greying streaks was pulled into a severe knot.

“Ah, you’re late by ten minutes.” She added with a quirk of her right eyebrow.

“Sorry, I got caught up with my personal budgeting.” Edith shrugged off her overcoat and hung it at the coat stand near the door. Lady Ada was a punctual person. She would need to take note of that.

Edith sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor before the small table that separated her and Lady Ada. Though simple and small, the shop had a vintage feel to it with books lining the upper shelves that were built into the wall. She liked the feel of this shop as it made her feel calm and comfortable. This was not her first visit, but her third. She’d discovered this shop when it was pouring cats and dogs one night, and Lady Ada had invited her to take shelter.

“How was your day?” Lady Ada asked, her voice calm and soothing. She had recently learned that Lady Ada provided and protected a small number of refugees from the Kingdom of Hathage, the Hathagians. It was done in stealth and behind the Militia’s knowledge. They were all situated at Eder Street, the perfect place to keep the Royal Guards and Elites from patrolling the area. Before the feud between Rayard and Hathage, Hathagians were free to roam in Rayard and vice versa and these refugees were the ones who did not make it back to their kingdom and had no other choice, but to stay hidden. Edith wondered if there were any Rayardians hiding in Hathage as well. She preferred not to think about it at the moment, brushing away the thought. Edith recalled the very first conversation she had with Lady Ada.

“There is something about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem very familiar. I am trying to figure it out.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“Are you by chance, Dann Alcoft’s daughter?”

The revelation of Lady Ada being her father’s close friend was a shock to Edith. Her father had never mention Lady Ada. Not once. Though not much is known about her, Lady Ada had served in The Militia with her father as High Commander Ekker’s aide. The world is indeed small, eh?

“The usual. Took a walk and fed the children. And yours?” Edith said and lowered her head.

“The usual. Sitting in this shop and hoping for more customers.” Lady Ada said in a bored tone.

“How are the refugees?” Edith huffed a puff of warm air.

“Safe. I will be paying a visit to Eder Street tomorrow. I have some leftovers. They need it more than I do.”

Edith rarely paid a visit to Eder Street because she was needed at the clinic and Uncle Vern was against the idea of going to Eder Street, for safety reasons. Uncle was aware of the refugees, and he usually help only when he was needed for his medical expertise. The last time she paid a visit to the street, she was saddened by its state of disrepair. The atmosphere was sombre and there was litter and filth in every corner of the street. The residents were mostly shabby, and the refugees were in need of help. She swore and wondered if The Militia was doing a good job for their citizens. Eder Street was afterall, part of Rayard and Rayard was ruled by The Militia. Edith often marveled at the idea of Caden, her uncle’s apprentice working for The Militia a year ago. The Militia was in need of a field medic and Caden had applied for the position. Claiming that he could earn more income for uncle to buy better medical equipment.

“I could set aside some red bean buns for them.” Edith said, already doing the mathematical calculations in her head.

“And I could collect them from you on my way to Eder Street.”

“Do you think a war will break out?” Edith dared herself to ask the dreaded question, and it was not the first time she asked of it.

“From the rumours. At least not, yet,” was Lady Ada’s nonchalant reply. Her expression was calm as if the idea of war was common to her. There was a minute’s silence before Lady Ada continued on.

“Have you crack the code, yet? The one your father left for you.”

“No…I can’t bring myself to crack it.”

Besides her talent to play the pianoforte, Edith was skilled at deciphering codes, a skill her father excelled in and had effectively passed his knowledge down to her, a skill known as cryptography. But she did not make use of the skill because it reminded her too much of the ‘incident’ eight years ago, which still traumatised her today. Besides, it was a skill that was of no use to her. It does not provide her an income. Codes were only for the military.

“Do not take too long to crack it.”

“Why do you say so?”

“Because it may contain some important notes.”

Edith remained silent at Lady Ada’s statement because it was true. When it came to codes, it usually contained important information, and probably valuable and of high importance.

“You ought to leave now. You don’t wish to get caught by the ‘Elites’. Do you?” Lady Ada smirked.

“No and don’t wish to.” Edith rose to her feet immediately. The last thing she wanted was to bump into any of the ‘Elites’, The Militia’s elite soldiers, the highest in rank and toughest, and also the ones who killed her father. She needed to keep out of their radars because she wasn’t sure if they knew Dann Alcoft’s daughter was alive. She did not wish to take any chances.

“Thank you for your time, Lady Ada. It was good to meet you again,” Edith smiled and walked towards the entrance. She donned her overcoat and was about to push the door when Lady Ada’s words stopped her.

“Your father was a respectable man.”

“Thank you, Lady Ada.” Edith replied and returned the smile. She wasn’t well-versed about her father’s nature of work. All she knew was he used to work for The Militia and was good friends with High Commander Ekker. As the High Commander’s aide, he was a decoder. Once, she’d asked if her father was good friends with High Commander Ekker, why didn’t the High Commander protect him. “Because the High Commander of that time died before he could protect your father.” She wished to know more, but Lady Ada was tight-lipped about it. She only shook her head and said, “the walls have ears.”. However, deep down she knew her father was a man of charisma and was always exuberant. She swallowed the ache that was beginning to form and left the shop and headed south, back to the arched entrance as fast as she could.

She arrived at the entrance, turned and was met with a sturdy body. The impact caused her to lose her balance and she fell backwards, her bottom hit the cold hard ground. Pain radiated from her bottom to her spine, but she immediately rose to her feet in haste, not noticing the hand that was extended towards her. She winced and rubbed her bottom.

“I’m sorry.” Edith glanced up at the man whom she bumped into. Her eyes widened at the sight of the tall man before her. He was not only tall, but his physique was lean and well-built. She guessed those muscular arms would be able to lift a woman or any heavy things effortlessly. His dark hair was tousled, the fringe falling over his eyebrows, and for some unknown reason, he emitted an aura that made her uncomfortable. He was dressed all in black, the lower half of his face was covered with a black cloth, and it did not help in making him a mysterious person. The only thing that stood out was his emerald green eyes, quietly searching hers. They were so green that it reminded her of Falborg Forest during summer. They seemed so familiar, yet she couldn’t quite place it.

Edith shook her head, clearing her mind and took sight of the uniform before her again, from his laced tall boots, leather breeches and his overcoat which hid the dark leather jacket of his uniform. She felt the blood draining from her face, and she could only think of one word, “Elite”. The unmistakable insignia of two swords crossing each other with vines twirling around the blades was sewn onto the man’s uniform collar.

“I’m sorry.” Edith said once more and side-stepped the soldier. She quickly made her way down the street and once she was out of Cyel Street, she felt safe. She sighed, relieved that she was away from the soldier, an Elite. They terrified her. More so than the regular soldiers of the Militia.

Edith continued down the street till she reached Dastren Street and Uncle Vern’s clinic. Her bottom still radiated with pain, but it was bearable, and she would need to apply some balm to soothe the pain. Suddenly, a muffled gunshot was heard not far from where she stood, and it caused her to flinch. Memories from eight years ago came flooding into her mind. The night her father had rushed them out of their home in Falborg Forest, eager to escape the Elites. Edith shook her head of the memory, refusing to succumb to the trauma. She hastily entered the clinic and ascended the stairs two at once, hoping to hide behind the closed doors of her room.

Indeed, they still terrify me.

---