As soon as Falko and Rhea stepped through the gates of Sommeral Free City, the hustle and bustle of the city overwhelmed them. Rhea had never seen so many people crammed together in one place, and from the look on Falko's face, neither had he. His eyes were wide as they darted from one sight to another.
"Look at all of them!" Rhea whispered, sounding both fascinated and overwhelmed.
The streets were crowded with women in elegant gowns and armor, some other women running errands or pulling carts, and the occasional elf or dwarf strolling with purpose. It was a city full of life, but it was clear to anyone watching—this was a women's world. Female merchants barked orders at workers, while female soldiers in shiny armor patrolled the streets, the insignia of Sommeral glowing proudly on their chest plates. Women in robes stood on raised platforms, passionately preaching to the crowds about the "All-Knowing Mother," their voices echoing through the narrow streets.
"Blessed be the One and Only, the All-Knowing Mother!" one of the preachers shouted, drawing in a crowd of followers. "She watches over us all, guides our paths, and grants power to the worthy! Give yourself to Her, and find wisdom in Her light!"
Falko paused, staring at the preacher, captivated by her fervor. "I've never heard of this All-Knowing Mother before," she muttered.
Rhea shrugged. "It's probably what our village worshipped. Let's keep moving."
As they wandered deeper into the city, they passed market stalls overflowing with fruits, fabrics, and trinkets. Men haggled fiercely with female merchants, negotiating prices with a sharpness that left little room for argument.
"Fifty coins for this? You must be joking," one man barked, crossing his arms as he stared down a nervous-looking vendor.
"Thirty-five, then!" the female vendor stammered, wiping sweat from her brow.
Rhea smiled at the sight. "These men really know how to control a room, huh?"
"Yeah," Falko replied, feeling an odd mix of admiration and unease. He noticed the normal dressing pattern of the men and he found it quite similar to what he saw back in his own queendom.
They continued walking, passing street performers juggling fire, and a group of children laughing as a trickster performed sleight-of-hand illusions, drawing coins from behind their ears. Rhea seemed to relax, even smiling at the performers.
"Think we could make a living like that if things get tough?" Rhea joked, nudging Falko.
He chuckled, but his mind was elsewhere. They had little money left, and each step toward their goal weighed on him. They needed to get Brina's name cleared, and they needed it done soon.
They overheard snippets of conversations as they walked, trying to gather any useful information. But most of it was chatter about daily life: gossip about local noblewomen, rumors about trade disputes, or idle talk about the latest political power plays in the city. Nothing useful.
"...She's moving up the ranks quickly, they say—might even replace the High Chancellor."
"Did you hear about the attack on the Rondavalu Queendom's borders? The Silvaris Empire is pushing harder than ever..."
"Apparently, the queen of De Malian has sent more support troops, but who knows if that'll be enough."
Falko tensed at the mention of his queendom, his thoughts drifting back to home. Silvaris... they're still pushing. How long before they consume everything?
But none of the rumors seemed to help with Brina's situation.
"Falko," Rhea said, breaking him from his thoughts, "this place is… something else. I've never seen so many people just going about their day. It's like they don't even know about us. I guess in these big cities, people don't even know each other."
Falko nodded. "This city's built on trade and power. It's a fortress. They probably think they're untouchable here." He paused, overhearing a group of women talking a little further ahead. "Wait, listen."
Rhea turned her attention to the conversation.
"...It's happening in the Capital Square soon. I heard the High Commander herself might make an appearance."
"The High Commander?" one woman gasped. "Do you think they'll announce something important?"
"Could be. Or maybe she'll just be overseeing some trials. Either way, it's going to be crowded."
Falko's ears perked up. The High Commander? He turned to Rhea, a glint of hope in his eyes. "Rhea, I think we should head to the Capital Square."
Rhea furrowed her brow. "Why? Do you think she'll help us?"
Falko shrugged. "Maybe. There'll be officers there, people with influence. If we can get an audience with one of them, they might be able to help us clear Brina's name. It's worth a shot, right? I don't have my trust on anyone, but we don't have any option right now."
Rhea hesitated, biting her lip as she thought about it. Finally, she nodded. "You're right. We don't have much to lose. Let's go."
As they turned and started walking toward the Capital Square, Tyrant's voice echoed in Falko's mind, a dark chuckle following his words.
[Oh, this should be good. Run along, boy. Let's see how your hopes play out.]
Falko clenched his fists, ignoring the voice. He glanced at Rhea, whose eyes were focused ahead, full of determination.
They had to try. For Brina. For everything that was taken from them. We're not giving up, Falko thought to himself. Not yet.
And with that, they made their way toward what could either be their salvation—or their downfall.
The sun setted on the bustling Capital Square as Rhea and Falko pushed through the crowd. Women filled the space, their voices a mix of excitement and tension as drums thundered in the distance. Rhea shoved her way through, gripping Falko's wrist tightly as they weaved between bodies.
"Almost there," Rhea muttered, her eyes straining to catch sight of what was drawing so much attention.
The crowd thickened the closer they got, and they could barely move without brushing against someone. Falko's heart pounded in his chest, unease settling in his stomach. He could hear the steady beating of the drums grow louder, a sound that seemed ominous now.
Finally, they broke through to the front of the crowd, the sunlight blinding as it hit their faces. Rhea shielded her eyes for a moment, but when she lowered her hand, her world froze.
In the middle of the square, hung from ropes for all to see, was Brina. Her clothes had been stripped, her body left bare, naked and brutalized, and the lifeless form swayed slightly in the wind. Alongside her were several other women, each hanging in a similar state, as if they were nothing more than a grim spectacle for the crowd to witness.
Rhea's breath hitched in her throat, her chest tightening painfully. She felt like she couldn't breathe, her entire body paralyzed by the horror before her. Her vision swam, and for a moment, she was sure her legs would give out.
Falko wasn't as lucky. The sight of Brina—the woman who rescued his life—hanging there like a discarded puppet hit him with the force of a storm. He turned to the side, retching violently, bile spilling from his mouth as his body shook uncontrollably.
"No... no..." Falko choked out, his voice barely audible as he wiped his mouth with a trembling hand. He couldn't look, he couldn't make sense of it. The last time he saw her, Brina was alive, full of fire and spirit. And now... now she was—
Rhea snapped out of her shock, her breath still labored but her mind sharp. She grabbed Falko's arm, her grip iron-tight as she dragged him away from the square.
"Rhea… Brina—" Falko's voice cracked as he tried to speak, his feet stumbling beneath him.
"Not here," Rhea hissed, her voice dangerously low, the fury barely contained. She kept pulling him, moving with purpose even as her mind spun with the horror of what she had just seen.
As they got farther from the crowd, Rhea glanced back at Falko, her eyes wild. The rage was unmistakable. It was like she had transformed into something primal, something vicious. Her lips were pulled back in a snarl, and her eyes, normally filled with warmth and life, now blazed with raw hatred.
Her chest heaved as she forced herself to keep walking, dragging Falko along. But her thoughts were racing, her mind burning with the image of Brina's body swaying in the wind.
"They... they killed her," Falko whispered, his voice hoarse. He looked up at Rhea, his face pale and streaked with sweat. "They... killed her, Rhea."
Rhea didn't respond at first, her jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. She wanted to scream, to lash out at everything around her, but she knew it wouldn't bring Brina back. Nothing would.
"They'll pay," Rhea finally spat, her voice like venom. "Every. Single. One. Of them."
Rhea's grip on his arm tightened even further, her nails digging into his skin. "This city... this cursed place... we should've known. They don't care about us."
The streets around them blurred as they moved further away from the square, but Rhea's mind was singular in its focus now. Her rage wasn't a storm—it was a blade, sharp and deadly, ready to cut through anyone who stood in her way.
"I'm going to find who did this," Rhea snarled, her voice barely human. "And I'm going to make them suffer."
Falko's legs gave out, and he collapsed to his knees. "Rhea... I—"
"Get up!" she snapped, pulling him to his feet with a force that surprised even her. Her eyes locked onto his, fierce and unyielding. "We don't have time for this, Falko! Mother's gone, but we're still alive. And we're going to make them pay."
Her words were nothing like Rhea that Falko used to know. Tyrant never expected to see that kind of transformation from childish Rhea, but he started to feel some hope in her, as he saw her hatred filled eyes.
[Looks like she is reborn out of hatred.]
Falko stared at her, feeling numb. Everything inside him was crumbling from the guilt her felt, but Rhea... Rhea was burning with a fire he'd never seen in her before. He nodded slowly, his legs still shaky, but he forced himself to stand.
The city was a blur around them as they hurried away, but in Rhea's mind, there was only one thing that mattered now.
Revenge.