Rune and Elsie had a three-year age gap. Despite Rune being eight and Elsie being five, they were mature, forced to grow up like all the other orphans who called Driftwood home. But, unlike the others, they had a mother. A mother who was a mother in name only. She gave birth to Rune and Elsie, but their upbringing, it was only thanks to Rune that the two were still alive.
Rune's mother had abandoned him at the age of two, a selfish act that existed as one of his earliest memories. He became aware at one and recalled weaning from his mother, along with eating the little scraps of food she would bring when he was two; however, those soon disappeared after she left him on the streets to fend for himself.
Yes, she had left him by the ancient iron clock in the central square of Alta. He remembered the stares from both the lower and upper classes, the whispers they murmured as they passed by—another child left at the mercy of Alta. He was fortunate, but his sister faced a much crueler fate. Their mother had abandoned Rune when he was two, leaving him to fend for himself, while she left Elsie right after her birth, never giving her a chance to live.
He had seen his mother leave the small bundle by the iron clock at the same spot where she had left him. It didn't take much for Rune to recognize the same patterned quilt covering the newborn who quietly rested amidst the bustling square. He was only three then, but instinctively, he moved forward to pick up his sister and take her to their new home right after their mother left.
Rune and Elsie were neither the first nor the last children to be left behind by the old iron clock. Many others before them shared the same fate, some abandoned at around the same age as Rune, others just hours after coming into existence like his sister.
Most of the abandoned children came from women of the lower class, but on occasion, an unlucky child charged with the fate of coming into the world illegitimately would sit by the clock waiting for the very mother who'd cast them off.
The central square was where Driftwood's lower class and Alta's privileged mingled. It was the only place where either social group dared to make an appearance in daylight in the other's company.
It was the sole location where either social group would risk associating publicly if briskly walking counted as a form of association.
It was, but then it wasn't when night fell, and the wealthy would visit the brothels of Driftwood, spending their money on entertainment. The same entertainment they refused to partake in the upside of Alta for fear of their reputation and their wives finding out. A group of backstabbing men to their wives, the way Rune saw it.
In all, it was a system. Mothers, regardless of status, would leave their children if the fathers were not acceptable in the eyes of the wealthy or if they were merely merchants flocking to Driftwood. The mothers, unable to support them with the meager earnings from their night work, had no choice. At least, that was what the woman of Driftwood said, but Rune thought otherwise as he saw the inner workings while working for the Madam.
It was how Rune knew his situation was not the lack of food but his mother's selfishness. He knew she made plenty by the food she would discard on the sides of the streets for the orphans to fight over and the heavy jewels of ruby and emerald she would wear on her neck and arms whenever she left her home.
He saw it all when the Madam would send him from one side of Alta to the other, the merchant men that would enter her home drunk, laughing with her as they stumbled through the door. His mother was living luxuriously, in a life many in Driftwood didn't have.
Her appearance and status were known for reasons not suitable for conversation at the dinner table. Rune knew her reputation would crumble if others discovered she had given birth to two children.
As the Madam would say, 'A woman with a kid is bad business.'
'Bad business,' that was what he and Elsie had become when she left them. Rune remembered sitting where his mother left him, not moving for fear of getting lost.
"Don't come crawling back to my doorstep, you hear? If there is anything you can understand with that infant brain of yours, don't ever let me see you." It was the last thing she had said to him before she turned back on her heels and walked off, not once looking back at the child she left.
He had sat there for quite a while. It was only when a lady wearing shiny flats with a long flowing green tulle dress and a black mushroom hat approached that Rune shifted to stand on his toddler's feet for the very first time. It was at that moment he first met the Madam.
When he first came under her cold gaze and harsh scrutiny, she looked into his eyes. He remembered a prickling feeling creeping beneath his skin, an unsettling sensation, but he dared not cry out, sensing a deadly shift within the air in her presence.
"You're the first not to cry." She had said.
Her white-gloved hands reached out to Rune, waiting. It seemed as if she was testing him. She said nothing, but her outstretched hand felt like an offering.
Rune took a shaky step forward toward the woman, trying not to fall as he approached the waiting glove. When he reached her side, Rune placed his hand into her own.
The woman frowned, "And the first with a brain, it seems. Know that'll serve you no good in these parts. Too many brilliant minds have met the noose due to brilliance."
He only continued looking at her, fear preventing him from yanking his hand from her grasp and risking running back on his unsteady legs to the iron clock. Despite being only two, he knew he had done something irreversible by being with the lady who held his hand.
"I've been needing a blank canvas to help with business. It's your lucky day, boy, a chance at life and an escape from an early death, quite the fate you have on your side."
"Madam, Jarl requests you be on time for the delivery." Rune turned his head toward a coachman who called from the carriage that had brought the lady.
The woman stilled and shifted her body slightly back, her head tilting slightly downwards.
"Tell him I won't be making an appearance. I've secured a more profitable deal than he can offer. We will no longer discuss business." The coachman bowed, then pulled off the carriage to the side and into the direction of streets of the upper class. But before he could disappear into the evening's darkness, the Madam raised her hand.
A whizzing sound, then a thunk. Those were the only two warning sounds Rune heard before he saw a body drop from the carriage. The woman with Rune in tow walked to the body. The coachman lay lifeless on the ground, an arrow protruding from his body, unmoving.
"The first rule you learn, boy: wait until I permit you to speak, or else lose permission to breathe in my presence. You won't remember this, but perhaps your instincts will," she continued.
"Second, trust is not given; it is earned. You earn your keep. There are no shortcuts in Alta. Whether you are of higher or lower class, all earn their keep. You'll see the division each day—the hate one class has for the other—but remember, deep down, all are Eastern Nythians. That will never change."
The woman looked down at him. "The second rule: only make eye contact when addressed. I am not an exhibition on display for your eyes."
"And lastly, you address me as Madam. That is my name. Call me anything else, and I will not hear."
She then led him toward Driftwood, walking unhurriedly, and brought him to a large red brick building that resembled the homes of the wealthy, giving him a loaf of bread. Days passed, and the Madam continued giving him a small loaf each day.
A year later, while the Madam and Rune were passing through the central square, Rune saw the same blanket his mother had left him placed by the iron clock. Just then, a merchant dressed in all black approached the Madam, taking off his hat and bowing as he gave greetings.
"Madam, I was just about to drop by."
"Sir Antone, the pleasure is mine."
"The shipment—" With the Madam occupied, Rune raced to the clock and picked up the blanket, peering into the face of a newborn child with dark brown eyes that almost appeared black like his own. Instantly, he knew it was his sister. He felt something snap within him, followed by a prickling feeling on his left side. The baby cooed in recognition, and he ran back to the Madam's side, tucking the bundle into his shirt.
Finished with her conversation, the Madam turned back to look at Rune.
"What've you got there, boy?"
Rune clutched the baby to his chest. Just as he was about to lie, his sister sneezed.
The Madam's eyes moved to the bundle tucked in his shirt. Without asking, she removed Rune's arms and carefully took the baby into her own.
"This one looks like you," she said.
His sister remained quiet in her arms as the Madam examined her, poking at her body, which moved in response. However, when she reached her legs, his sister did not move.
"A defect." The woman handed her back to Rune.
"You may keep her, but remember, I run a business, not an orphanage." Rune looked down, relief flooding his body.
"Yes, madam."
She frowned at him then. Without saying another word, she raised her arm to call a carriage.
*****
Rune kept his head down, his mind scrambling to put together the right thing to say as he tried not to let the prickling feeling beneath his skin get to him.
"Do you have nothing to say for your tardiness, or is it that you refuse to speak?"
"It was Frendil, Madam," he blurted, then clamped his mouth shut. Why did you tell her such a thing, you fool?!
From behind the bare wooden desk, the Madam's fingers drummed as her eyes bored into Rune. "Frendil, you say? And what business could she have with my late parcel?"
"She spoke to me."
"Spoke to you? Frendil wouldn't dare speak to anyone working under me. Do tell, Rune, what did you do that compelled the bat to bare its fangs?" The Madam sipped a dark liquid from a glass in her hand, watching Rune's discomfort.
Rune shook with sweat. His shirt clung to his back. He knew Elsie could feel his distress, but his anxiousness did not leave him.
"I bumped into her."
"You bumped into her. One mistake followed by another. You would think years of experience delivering packages would give you awareness, but here you are, failing to watch where you are going."
I was tired! You've given me so little that I haven't eaten in two days! What am I supposed to do? Maneuver my body away while someone faster in speed intentionally pivots into my path while I carry twice my weight?
Instead of voicing out his internal voice, Rune bowed his head, his hands twitching to curve into fists.
"You gave her a reason to speak to you. I must say she was always cunning in her deals, but to think she'd find a way to get you to talk. A curt conversation, I'm guessing, from the likes of your behaviour." Gesturing to the desk, the Madam signalled Rune to drop the bag he carried onto it.
"What message did she have for me?"
"She said you have a good delivery boy."
The Madam smirked. "A compliment then, but why do I think she said something else."
How does she always know when I leave things out?
"She also said to tell you the items were safely delivered," her smirk fell, replaced by the stone face she often wore when someone displeased her.
The Madam dropped the Rye crystal she was examining back into the bag Rune had brought, her full attention snapping to Rune.
"You gave her a reason to threaten me then. Had your hands not fumbled and showed weakness, she wouldn't have had an excuse to jeopardize our agreement. She'll come after you now. Frendil will try to sabotage my other contract through you." The Madam tsked her discontent.
"There'll be no deliveries for a while, Rune."
He was perplexed.
Then where on Terra am I supposed to get five copper coins for our next meal?
This time, he couldn't stop his fingers from curling. It wasn't his fault. Someone must have wished ill upon him for Rune to cross paths with Frendil.
He froze. An image of a toothless smile filled his head.
I will pummel the living daylights out of that bastard and—
"You won't be getting your cut. It is your punishment for the late delivery."
The Madam waved her hands, directing him out of the room. "You're dismissed."
Without another word, Rune quickly retraced his steps in the direction he had come. Reaching the streets, he shouted in frustration. A few people glanced his way before returning to their own business.
Elsie then decided to make an appearance, her head popping back out as she poked at Rune, disregarding their situation.
"Ru, can we go now?"
"I'm going to bash that toothless fish," he growled, heading in the direction of the decks.
"No, Ru!" Elsie whined, "You said we would go after talking with Madam Ru!" she grabbed his hair again, causing him to stop his descent of the steeply sloped alleyway they were in.
"Okay, okay, but how about we get some grilled fish before we go? Then we can watch the lights." Elsie stopped the protest and clapped her hands in agreement.
"Yay, grilled fish!"
Rune would grill someone else before that, though.
He couldn't help but smirk; the fish wouldn't be the only thing he'd find grilled. But first, he had a toothless fiend to catch.