I find myself sitting on a large red couch, surrounded by jewels and garments. Aurelia meanwhile, picks out dresses, jewelry, and other absurdly expensive things, carefully placing each rejected item aside as if they were artifacts.
"Does this look pretty?" she asks, stepping out from behind the curtains in an elegant burgundy dress. Her hair is tied into a loose and messy bun, the one with those two strands that frame her face. Her gold and ruby jewelry highlights her unique red eyes, and her golden blonde hair. When standing under the bright chandeliers above, she was practically glowing. I could'nt even imagine someone looking so beautiful. She was like a work of art.
"It's perfect," I reply, gesturing to the shopkeeper to wrap the dress and jewels.
We are currently in one of Tundrell's higher-tier shopping districts, used by the wealthy and high marked individuals. Beyond the boutique's glass walls, the city stretches out endlessly. Tundrell is the crown jewel of Tundaris, a sprawling megacity that covers 33% of the planet's surface and is home to over 20 billion people. The city's walls tower 3000 meters high and stretch 8300 miles long. The walls are covered top-to-bottom in artillery, guns, shields, fighters, bombers and a variety of other ships and defenses, ready to throwback anyone who dares to assault the mega city.
I look out the window, taking in the gorgeous view. I see the glittering skyscrapers, the large white bridges, personal transport pods, and housing districts, all made by the absurd whims of the rich and powerful.
Yet, the more I glance down, the more I feel disgusted. Looking down, the pristine marble bridges and highways quickly turn into those of concrete and pavement. The buildings turn from shimmering sky scrapers and estates into humble homes and factories. The deeper down I look, the darker it gets. The now concrete roads and bridges then turn into those of wood and finally dirt. The lower tiers are covered in a green toxic gas and darkness, making the city seem like an endless void. The once unique lower tiers, filled with culture and traditions of the original peoples of Tundaris were now full of criminals, slaves, and the poorest of citizens. They are crammed into overpopulated slums, forced to fight for every scrap of food. Life expectancy plummets the further down you go, along with the air quality which grows thick with smog due to the ever growing number of factories, manned by slaves and poor peasants that line the pockets of their rich owners.
In the upper tiers, every word is monitored, every movement is recorded. Screens mounted on every building blare the same propaganda day and night, ensuring no one forgets their place. A screen directly outside the window turns on. My mother's face appears.
"You are all essential to the Aeperium. We, as your leaders, salute you and you." Her voice carries a certain authority, as she raises a hand in salute. Behind her are images of families and soldiers, smiling, living their best lives. It's all propaganda.
Even here, in the sanitized upper tiers, the cracks in the regime are still visible. The smiles on the screens are scripted. Even the soldiers' movements seemed robotic and rehearsed.
I return my attention toward the small blurs of the many slums far below. It's as if the lower marks are an entirely different species. They are openly discriminated against, and treated as expendable cogs in the Aeperium's imperial machine. They are denied access to education, healthcare, and even clean water. Their suffering is necessary to fuel the luxury that I and the many upper marks enjoy.
"What's wrong?" I ask, seeing Aurelia frown as I begin to pull out my card to pay.
She looks back at the many bags of dresses and jewelry. "You said they all looked pretty on me. You didn't even choose anything special." she says, pouting.
I cant help but release a sigh after hearing her words. She was so naive.
"It's not the dresses you wear that make you look pretty, they are just fabric. You make the dresses special, you are the reason that they are pretty." I say smiling at her.
In the corner of my eye, I catch a faint blush on her cheeks as begin I scan my card. The total is 236,000 credits, nearly half of my monthly allowance. I don't flinch at the price, but the number lingers in my mind. For this sum, I could take a whole neighborhood out of poverty. I feel something tight in my chest as I think about the children who starve in the slums while we indulge ourselves in jewels and riches.
"You are all essential," the massive screen blares again as we exit the shop. My mother's voice could be heard all over the city.
The city is absolutely massive and without the surveillance, the propaganda, and the constant threat of force, it would definitely fall apart.
"We must get back Sir Achilles, it is getting quite late" The giant man carrying Aurelia's bags tells me. His name is Falco, and he is currently acting as my bodyguard. He himself has 5 warrior marks on his arm making me assume that he is a very skilled warrior, yet i've rarely seen him fight, nor do I know much about his background. He is smaller than Thoris and nowhere near as strong, yet he is still way bigger and stronger than the average man. He has long brown hair reaching down his neck, and a muscular figure. Although i've known him for many years, I still don't really know much about him. I don't know his age, his last name, his family, his origins, nothing. It's surprising how well he could hide those things from me, yet then again, I've never press him for information. He does his job well and that's enough.
I give him a brief nod before stepping out onto a bustling street. People fill the streets, mostly the elites, going around completing their various chores. Most peasant marks use public transportation and car riding apps to move around as owning a vehicle is mainly for the rich and powerful politicians, warriors, and other high ranking marks. On the street, various law men check peoples marks and harass the lower marked individuals. They are looking for escaped no marks, the slaves of society. At birth, everyone is assigned and given a mark. Those that don't have a mark are those born from other non marked peoples, or prisoners from countries and races outside the Aeperium. They are treated and used as slaves. They are the ones who build the massive skyscrapers and roads that we walk on. They are the lowest of the low and are treated inhuman. The peasants fund the projects through taxes while the slaves build them, yet neither benefit. It is a sad reality, yet a necessary evil used to keep society in check.
As I enter the floating armored vehicle, I wonder how my conversation with my mother will go. Commodus should've talked to her this morning, yet she hasn't summoned me yet. I can only assume that she will tonight. She clearly was against the idea of me becoming Commodus's pupil, yet I did it anyway. I cant help but wonder if she'll try to stop me. Falco starts to drive us toward the wall at the edge. There we have a ship that would allow us to return to our estate which lies on the other, more barren and peacefull side of the planet.
As I continue to think about what my mother would say, Aurelia finally asks me a question. "You said you'd meet me after my time at the University right?" She asks, visibly sad.
"yeah." I say, giving her a smile, attempting to reassure her.
Aurelia isn't like me. She is far more skilled with a blade, while I myself am more crafty. Her life was supposed to be straightforward; she would go to the university, complete her training, and probably become one of our house's blades. Yet we got married, and now she's involved with me. I've watched her, and it's clear she has enough talent to become a house blade, her gracefulness, precision, and deadliness. Her movements and resolve are always so certain. It's almost as if war runs through her veins, something she's made for, something she'll excel at without question.
Me, though, I'm different. I can definitely hold my own in a fight. I've learned to adapt, to think in ways others don't. Yet she is far more deadly than me. War doesn't suit me the way it does her. Yet I still don't want her to go into battle. I cant imagine losing her. I can barely do anything myself.
I can tell that Aurelia likes to fight. She loves the thrill, the competition. Yet, just like me, she hasn't killed anyone before. She is innocent. I don't want her to become corrupted. I know that she's a warrior, meaning that she will be forced to kill people in order to advance through society, but I don't want her to.
I think that she deserves a life where she doesn't have to charge into battle, where she doesn't have to pick up a sword in the first place. She's got that fire in her, the kind that makes her seem born for it, yet I hope she doesn't have to face the blood and carnage that come with it. I hope she doesn't have to fight the same wars most warriors do. If it was my choice, i'd honestly keep her locked in a room or a garden. She is prettier than the prettiest of flowers and I cant stand the thought of losing her.
If I can make it through Commodus's training and tests, I can hopefully prevent her from facing hardship. I hope I can keep her sense of innocence. I hope that I can take her away from my family and live a sort of peaceful life, maybe governing a small planet on the edge of the universe. I know my thoughts may sound a bit boring and although my family has thrived on war, I can't help but hate the idea of it.
I'll make sure she doesn't end up as another soldier in a battle. Not if I can help it.
Our ride continues in silence.
Our vehicle suddenly comes to a stop outside a small runway in the middle of nowhere. We are still inside the city, but in the outskirts near the wall. Here, the military presence is much higher, while the civilian population is way less apparent. As we approach the hangar, we are greeted by a guard. This is a small, discrete runway, one of many only used only by my family. It is essentially a secret. Only 2 guards are present to prevent scrappers from entering and dismantling our high tech ships.
"Are we ready for take off?" Falco asks the first guard, a small but muscular man who has 3 dashes running down his arm.
"Yup, you're all fueled up and ready to go." he says, pointing us toward a small, old aether class ship carrier. The exterior made it look old, rust and bacteria forming on its gray paint. It was rugged, yet heavily enforced with visible signs of wear. It's exterior is covered with metal and even a bit of patchwork, failing to mask the ship's age.
It definitely wasnt the most luxurious thing, but it was still better than using a public transport ship. Falco enters the pilot seat while Aurelia and I hop in the back. It is a little cramped, I can't imagine how they would have fit 6 people back here, let alone soldiers. Either way, after a few moments, the ships engines release a slight hum as it begins to rise above the ground, hovering maybe 10 feet into the air. Shifting the levers, the ship quickly takes off, leaving the city's barrier, en route to my family's estate.
"I'm going to miss you a lot when you're gone... do you really have to go?" Aurelia asks, her voice is quiet, maybe even a little fragile.
I know she will miss me. It hurts me to leave her, yet I think it's for the best. I hate how she has to ask things like this. It hurts too much.
"You can call and message me everyday, I won't forget about you or anything." I tell her, attempting to reassure her once again. "Im doing this so that the both of us can finally be happy and safe." I tell her, pulling her into my arms.
I really do hope that I can protect her from this universe's horrors.
Our flight was quick, only about 7 minutes. I hear the radio blaring as we enter our estates airspace.
"Tower to transport EQ71F, fighters are being sent to intercept you, state your business for flying over restricted airspace."
I can hear Falco sigh as he picks up his radio transmitter.
"Transport to Tower, outing is complete, packages are secured." Falco responds. I look out the window seeing two extremely fast fighter ships appear on either side of us. They are small, even smaller than the transport, yet armed to the brim with high powered missiles, auto cannons, and even their own protective shields.
After a few moments of silence, the radio blares again. "Copy that, you're all good for landing." Just as suddenly as the fighters appeared, they vanished.