Salem Northwood's Story

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Ketzubelle Deepwalker

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As the morning began, the sun peeking over the horizon, warm rays of light futilely bathed the thick mist that encased the domes. Still, inside the domes it slowly lightened, as if the dense fog had not been there at all. Perhaps it was some magic or some trick of the light? However, there was no one to wonder at this magical feat of the sun. Those who were outsiders would never know another world was hiding in the mist, and only rarely did the denizens of the five domes of Keppel leave. Few knew there even was a concealing mist, and even fewer knew that there was anything in the outside world beyond the mist.

Inside the dome, near one of the tunnels leading from the Outlying District to the Mining District, Ketzubelle lay snuggled in an out-of-the-way alcove, sound asleep. Her form was curled around a backpack filled with small treasures that would serve to keep her grandmother and her fed for another couple weeks. She still wore a thick blue jacket over her clothing, and a long red scarf was draped over her form like a blanket.

Shortly after the sunlight entered the dome, slate grey eyes flickered open. Ket was still used to the unending darkness of the deeper parts of the Outlying District, so she was still rather sensitive to light. That worked in her favor today, since she still had a long way to go. With an early start, she would be able to reach home before dark today, unless she got too off track. She sat up and stretched, quickly working out the kinks that had formed during the night. It wasn’t horrible sleeping on hard ground, but it definitely was not the most comfortable.

After a moment, Ket stood and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She grabbed her scarf and tied it around her neck over her hair, before bending down to grab her bag. As she stood upright, adjusting the famed pack to sit correctly on her back, she flipped the hair out of her eyes and headed north. The entrance to the main tunnel was not far, she would reach it within a quarter of an hour. Then, it was a straight shot to the Mining District. She had made that same walk so many times, she could easily do it blindfolded. However, even as she entered the tunnel, her eyes immediately wandered to the walls, searching for any opening or door she had possibly missed before. She seemed to do that whenever she walked, and she had discovered many interesting things.

It seemed that it wasn’t long before she stopped for a rest at about midday. Though the tunnel was lit by runelights that had been deposited in the walls, the only way to tell time in the tunnels was through a common kind of mechanical clock. Almost everyone had one, along with their own portable runelights. The portable runelights and the ones embedded in the wall were almost identical, each illuminating surroundings with a gentle red-orange light; however, the embedded runes were obviously much larger, and gave of light in a wider area.

Ket quickly found a comfortable place to sit. Her stomach growled hungrily, but she had run out of food earlier than expected. It was amazing how many of the hermits who lived in the Outlyings preferred a home cooked meal as payment for information. She had bargained away several of her suppers, but the things she had found would make up for going hungry for a day.

After a moment, she glanced over at the heavy pack with a sigh. It was definitely time to head out. She resituated herself and started off again, already dreaming of the warm meal that would be awaiting her. She always told Grandmother when she was expecting to be home, and without fail, Ana always had a meal ready. She had to be the best cook in Keppel. It was too bad Ket could hardly boil water right.

As she was walking, trailing her fingers along an intricate, wavy design at the level of her waist, she nodded a simple greeting to a family going by. As she walked, the tunnels were slowly getting busier. Of course, by busier, it meant a person passing her once an hour or so instead of once or twice in a day. Suddenly, she noticed a small doorway across the hall. The door, usually flush against the surrounding stone, had been cracked open. This was the first time Ket had noticed it, so of course her curiosity was piqued. She looked down the wide hall both ways to see if anyone was around out of habit before crossing to the door. Who had opened it? Was it on purpose, or had someone just accidentally triggered a mechanism of some sort? What could be behind the door?

She entered slowly, the heavy stone door responding easily to her touch. Peering inside, it was immediately apparent that only one runelight was working in the cavernous room, leaving the rest bathed in an inky blackness. Ket quickly retrieved her on light from a pocket, holding it on her palm and lightly blowing on it to make it light. She held out her hand toward the darkness as the small light began to grow and better illuminate her surroundings. The large room was mostly empty, but small piles of stony rubble dotted the floor. She proceeded further into the darkness, carful of any holes or cracks in the floor. Her soft footsteps seemed to echo into the black. She felt a small thrill of excitement. The further she traveled the more intact the piles were until there were rows and rows of stony benches. She walked in one of the aisles, looking to either side as far as the light extended. Finally, she came to the end of the pews, and a small set of steps extended up to some kind of monument. It was badly cracked and faded, but Ket was able to make out a few runic symbols.

She heard an odd noise to her right, and spun around to see what it was. After another moment, she heard it again, a faint noise like a moan. She wondered if it was just air moving through a hole, but went to investigate anyway. Almost at the end of the platform, a hunched pile of something came into view. It was definitely not stone, and looked like some sort of fabric. Suddenly, the figure stirred slightly, with another noise. Ket gasped in surprise, losing her hold on the runelight as she jumped at the unexpected movement. The marble-like stone hit the ground and rolled closer to the shape before stopping.

Ket ignored the runelight for a moment and rushed over to the moaning figure, quickly determining it was a human boy, not a pile of rubble. She kneeled down next to him and gently rolled him over, supporting his head sideways on her lap. He groaned again, but did not wake. There was a small gash across his forehead, which had probably caused his current unconscious state. Ket quickly reached behind her for the light and brought it around so she could better see his features. The boy had unnaturally white hair and pale skin. He looked as white as a ghost, but Ket figured that was not completely caused by blood loss. Around his neck was an odd blue device that Ket was not familiar with. Perhaps a necklace of some kind, but it didn’t attach at the front. A small cord ran from one side, but Ket didn’t bother to see where it went. He was wearing a long grey coat of some kind that didn’t button in the front, and he wore pants of a strange material. On his feet were shoes of a design that was entirely foreign to Ket.

He did not seem to have wounds other than the small cut on his forehead, so Ket shrugged off her bag and coat, quickly folded the coat, and gently set the odd boy’s head down on it. Ket hurriedly rummaged through her bag for the strips of cloth she used as bandages. Finding one, she wet it with water from her canteen before gently wiping his wound. She used another to bandage it. Seeing that was all she could do for him at the moment, she jumped up to go get help. She decided to leave the light in case he woke up. She went slowly at first, finding the aisle and confidently making her way toward the direction of the door. It seemed to take forever, but she was at least used to navigating in the dark. Finally, she saw the one imbedded runelight working near the door. As she could see more, she picked up speed a bit, and was soon in the main hall again.

Ket immediately yelled, “Help! Is anyone there? I need help over here!” It was only a few moments of this before she heard footsteps racing toward her. At the sight of a young boy, Ket raised her arm in greeting and ran toward him. When she was close enough, she spoke breathlessly, “I need you to go get the nearest constable. There is an unconscious man in the room I just left, and he needs help right away.” Almost before she was finished, the boy nodded and ran off. Ket turned back and entered the room, quickly making her way to the front again. The whole trip had only taken a couple minutes, but Ket was already anxious for help to arrive. She kneeled by the unconscious boy again, hoping he would open his eyes.

“How did you get here?” Ket murmured softly. She looked around and quickly saw a large crack in the wall. Maybe he squeezed in through there? Looking back down at the pale boy, she sincerely hoped he would wake up soon so she could be sure he was alright.

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Salem Northwood

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Consciousness buzzed through Salem's mind, not strong enough to do more than elicit the occasional moan from between he parched lips. He didn't know how long he'd wavered in this state, his eyes too heavy to open, every sound faint and far away. He felt like he'd been put in isolation on pain medication. Which had happened before, he wasn't proud to admit. But this was different. In his tiny moments of partial lucidity, he managed to piece a few things together. He'd escaped the city...how long ago? His parents were probably anxious by now...they deserved it...it felt like years ago...he'd gotten lost...it was so hot...but now he was freezing...when was the last time he'd eaten? His head spun from thoughts into troubling dreams that throbbed with too-vivid colours.

He dreamed of crawling for hours. He dreamed of something calling him, tugging at his gut inescapably. And then, vividly, he dreamed of his mother's hands plucking at him, moving him. He tried to say something to her, but only a faint groan escaped his throat. She didn't say anything to him, but he could feel her breath on his face as she wiped his forehead. Did he have a fever? No, it was too cold for a fever. He never had fevers. He tried to open his eyes, tell her he was fine, but his body resisted, and he felt his mind slipping further into the oblivion of unconsciousness again. And then he lost the dream, and was left with a faint pressure on his temple and a sharp chill crawling up his spine.

He struggled against this coldness for what felt like a considerable amount of time. He wanted to get up, start a fire to warm himself up before he started losing fingers, but his body felt sodden. But less sodden than before. He attempted to sum up his strength to force his eyelids open, but nothing happened internally. Above him however, a voice floated down to him. He couldn't understand what it was saying, but he felt his heart rate jump with alarm. He didn't recognize this voice. He felt his throat constrict, and his mouth gaped open. He took a deep choking breath, as if it was his first one in a while, and began to cough.

After a few moments where his world consisted of nothing but his body shaking violently with every wheezing hack, he managed to catch his bearings. His body, while slow, had been freed of it's curse. When his body relaxed, he took a moment to flex his fingers at his sides. And then all the aches and pains that his half-conscious state had kept at bay came flooding back into his body. He groaned, rolling onto his side, managing finally to crack his eyes open. The light was dim, but still enough to sear at his eyes. He blinked several times, his brilliantly blue eyes bleary, before his vision landed on a figure.

"Who--?" He asked faintly. It wasn't exactly the first impression he'd of liked to make, but his body was still slow, and his vision seemed multiplied by five. He couldn't sit up, but he managed to make a little bit of distance between himself and the figure by scooting away. His mind swam and another chill wracked his body. He blinked several more timed, trying to make out the figure's face. He made out large eyes and long hair. A girl? Younger than him. He squinted at her, pushing himself up on one elbow. Though he was mostly incapacitated, he lifted a hand and sparked a tiny flame on his fingers in the hope it would warm him. he held it close to himself, his trembling fingers making the little spark flare and snap.

He swallowed several times, trying to get some saliva in his mouth to no avail. "Where am I?" He finally croaked. With his hazy cognition the oddities of the situation did not completely dawn on him. He was mostly worried about being cold and where he would find his next meal. He coughed several times, which made the fire flare high for a moment then sputter out, then managed to get out a few more word. "Do you have water?"

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Ketzubelle Deepwalker

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Ket watched the still face below her for a moment as if she could gain an answer to her questions if she stared hard enough. She was uncertain what she could do to help, other than wait for the constables to arrive. She had just given up on his waking up and was about to go check on where that opening in the wall led, when he began trembling. It was not especially cold to her, but when she laid a hand on his forehead, he felt freezing cold. He began coughing, and Ket was unsure what to do. Was he coking on something, or just beginning the process of waking up?

Finally, the coughing spell stopped. The boy rolled over, leaving the makeshift pillow behind. Ket’s eyes widened in surprise and curiosity as they met they boy’s. His eyes, though hard to see in the dim lighting, seemed to be a bright blue that caught bits of the light. He seemed rather confused and disoriented, and he only managed to eke out a hoarse sounding “Who?” He seemed scared, whether of her or something else, she could not tell.

Ket figured he was trying to ask who she was, and he managed to prop himself up as his vibrant eyes scanned her face, or tried to. She was about to answer him when he lifted one hand, and Ket’s eyes were immediately attracted to the motion. A tiny fire sprang to life, startling her. She instinctually raised her hand to shield her eyes, surprised at the flame that seemed to spark out of nowhere.

“How—” she started to ask, but cut off as he asked where he was. Ket’s answer was almost automatic, as her focus was entirely on the little flickering flame. “Not far off from the Mining District.” Her eyes quickly bounced from the still flickering flame to the odd contraption around his neck, to his rather unusual shoes. She continued as if she had never paused, “But you’re not from around here, are you?” Her eyes flickered back to his face as he asked for water. “Oh, of course…” She grabbed her bag and pulled it close enough that she could unhook the canteen from the side and held the liquid-filled leather pouch out to him. The water would be cool and fresh, since she had gotten it from a spring last night. She half flinched when he next moved, her eyes fixed on the odd fire. Before he could take it, she reconsidered and set the pouch on the ground before him.

Her focus was suddenly interrupted by noises coming from the direction of the entrance. She heard a questioning, “Hello?” from a young sounding voice. She yelled back, “Over here.” Her voice echoed and reverberated under the high ceiling of the room. She immediately looked back to the white-haired boy, almost afraid he may have disappeared. She kneeled on one knee to get back on eye level and asked, “Who are you? Are you alright? Can you stand?”

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Salem Northwood

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She seemed awed by the little spark on his fingers, his mind pieced together slowly. Commons usually looked pretty intimidated when they realized he was a Gifted, but he'd never seen someone look that surprised. He'd accidentally cut her wonder off, but her answer was useless. Mining District? There was no mining district at the city. They ran off cleaner fuels. Nuclear power. Was this city just eons behind his? He thought about that for a moment, not noticing that she was gawking at his person. Not from around here. He closed his eyes for a second as she fetched water, soothing the throbbing in his skull. He felt a little nauseous, and still incredibly disoriented, but his facilities were slowly coming back to him. What he really wanted to do was sleep and not wake up for a couple years. He opened his eyes to see her proffering the pouch, but as he reached out to grab it she set the pouch down, withdrawing her hands as if he'd burned her. His slightly glazed eyes moved to the fire in his fingers. Oh.

He stretched his hand open, and the fire vanished, then he seized the container and took a long drink. The water tasted odd, sort of greasy, earthy, not like the metallic coldness of the water back hope. It was soft...a little sweet, a little bitter. Strange. Part of his brain wondered how sanitary it was, but his body was too busy rehydrating itself to really care about germs.

As he drank, he heard a voice echo around the room. His head responded with a faint throb. Then the girl in front of him yelled back. He flinched, almost dropping the water pouch, one hand flying up to cover his ear. His head seared with pain at the volume of her voice. It took a few moments to regather his composure as she knelt in front of him, asking questions in a much softer voice. He offered the pouch to her as he sat up more fully, letting the nausea overtake him for a moment. It drained the rest of the color from his face. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose. "My name is Salem." He said, shutting his eyes. He could feel the water sloshing around inside him. It would do him no good to vomit now. He needed that water.

He sucked in another halting breath. "I don't...I don't remember anything." He mumbled, opening his eyes and rubbing at his forehead. How had he ended up here? Wracking his brain, he could vaguely remember leaving the city. He'd been mad about something. Or something like that. Abruptly he pushed himself to his feet, which made his head swim in dizzying circles. He swayed, his knees threatening to drop him, and clutched his hands to his eyes for a few seconds until the dizziness faded. His hand brushed a bandage on his forehead. How had that gotten there? He didn't ask. He didn't want to open his mouth, in case he really did puke.

Slowly he turned his eyes to the girl, looking at her consciously for the first time. She was on the smaller side, with a dainty face set at odds with her worn clothing. She had long brown hair, and her large grey eyes gave him mind of some of the spindly legged animals featured on old nature documentaries. Deer, they were called? He tried to smile at her, though he was trembling visibly and his teeth were chattering incessantly. He wanted to light another fire, but he didn't want to spook her unless he had a reason to. It would make more sense to have an ally in this strange place. Hopefully it would be enough to help him get out of here and find his way back hope. "I'm fine." He said in a low voice, his blue eyes flicking to her face. She'd called to some people, he knew they be upon him soon, he needed to compose himself as quickly as possible. "Thanks, uh, I don't know your name." He said, his voice broken slightly by his body's shaking at the nausea that still roiled through him sporadically.

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Ketzubelle Deepwalker

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Ket’s face showed concern as the boy seemed to be in pain. A gimace swept over his features, and he visibly paled. It was apparent even in the small bubble of light that surrounded them. It probably had to do with whatever had happened when he had fallen unconscious. After a moment, he seemed to compose himself and was able to tell her his name. ‘Salem… Doesn’t sound terribly foreign. If it weren’t for his odd clothing and the whole fire thing, he may even be able to blend in,’ Ket thought to herself, still eyeing him curiously. He suddenly looked as though he was going to be sick, and Ket realized his stomach was probably upset.

Salem was finally able to tell her that he didn’t know how he got there. Perhaps he was suffering from some kind of amnesia or very disoriented? Still, he was definitely not from Keppel, even from the rich side of Keppel. She had never seen anyone dressed like him. She stooped to pick up the fire rune, which illuminated his pale hair even more. Another oddity, at least around here, but it was not unheard of. His teeth seemed to be chattering together with cold, which Ket found rather odd. It was not all that bad down here, but she did notice there was a slight draft. It probably came from that crack she had noticed before. “Are you going to be alright?” she asked, her tone holding as much curiosity as concern. He almost immediately responded that he was, but Ket hardly believed that. It was not hard to see that he was still suffering the effects of some illness. Ket could now see a few lights approaching, so she quickly raised her own in signal.

Immediately, she pulled her bag toward her, and began digging through it. Several dull clanks could be heard as she moved things around to get to a small side pocket. She grabbed what she wanted and pulled it out in triumph. By the light, a small sprig of mint was revealed. Ket held it out to Salem with a reassuring smile. “Here, eat the leaves. They will help to sooth your stomach.” As soon as he took them, she withdrew her hand fast enough that they did not touch. She arranged a couple things so she could pull the drawstring of her pack closed. He would have had just enough time to eat it before she swung her pack onto her back. The boy soon asked her name.

She held out her hand for a handshake as she stated, “Ketzubelle Deepwalker, if you please. Just call me Ket, it’s easier.” As soon as their right hands touched for the first time, Ket felt a sharply stinging, burning sensation on her palm. Ket immediately drew her hand back, sure Salem had somehow scorched her with that mysterious fire of his. However, she was able to catch a glimpse of an odd, black mark on the middle of his palm that had not been there before. When she looked at her own palm, an almost identical, mark had appeared in the same spot. If she had seen right, it was just the opposite color of his, an outlining in black where his was the black middle of the design. It almost looked like an abstact portrayal of a sun.

Only seconds after their hands had touched, Ket felt a slight tremor run through the ground. She looked up from her palm in alarm before her startled eyes rested on Salem’s. A moment later, a larger tremor started, and Ket’s feet were jerked out from under her. She fell hard on her side as the ground continued to rock. She looked up, concerned that part of the ceiling would break off. As she watched carefully, she felt more than saw a section coming down. She sprung at Salem, barely managing to drag the both of them out of the way as a rock the size of a man hit where they had just been.

As the earthquake grew in intensity, Ket grabbed Salem’s hand and forcefully pulled him after her. She staggered worse than a drunk over to a small overhang in the design on the wall and sat against it. Several more large hunks of rock fell to the ground, illuminated by the runelight she had left behind. Thankfully, the shaking began to calm, and soon, all was still again. A fine coating of dust covered everything, and Ket gave a couple small coughs to clear her throat. Her attention turned to Salem, and she spoke hoarsely, “Are you alright? I’ve never been in a quake that bad.”

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Salem Northwood

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Salem wrapped both his arms tightly around his belly, as if to keep himself from vomiting the water he'd slurped down. Her face told him that she didn't believe that he was fine. Did he really look that bad? He shielded his eyes from the brightness of her light, he couldn't tell how much of his aversion to that brightness was because of his sensitivity to searing lights and how much was from his headache and the nausea playing circles with his head. He could handle firelight, but this light was both artificial and strangely natural at the same time. There was a gifted boy who lived a few houses down, he was probably only two or three years old, who could glow brightly. It was the same type of light as this, as if it came from a fluorescent bulb.But the light emitting the light looked more like a rock or something, he realized as he squinted at it.

As she rummaged through her pack, he took a moment to take inventory of his belongings. He felt his music player in his pocket, and his heart spiked with hope. Would he be able to contact his parents? As long as he had service and battery. He was about to pull the device out when the girl produced a little sprig of something. Eat the leaves? Were they clean? They didn't look like it. He tried not to make a face as he accepted the plant. He had to keep a good face up. And if she said it would calm his stomach, maybe it was worth a shot. "Thank you." He murmured, plucking at a leaf. He hesitantly dropped it on his tongue. It tasted like mint. It was mint! How? His face lit up slightly with wonder. Where had she found it? He quickly stripped the rest of the leaves off the sprig and consumed them. Only people who payed for licenses could grow plants for consumption. To keep the economy steady, of course. He made no comment on the plants though. Maybe things were different in this city. Place. Whatever it was.

He ignored the fact that she had skittishly avoided his hand when she gave him the mint. Had he scared her with the fire? Or something? What could he have done to make her act that way? But then she stuck out her hand for him to shake. Back home, only older people seemed to shake hands. It was odd to reach for the hand of someone his own age, or maybe younger than him. But he did. "Ket." He repeated as their hands touched. And then a sharp sensation jolted through his hand. A scalding feeling, as if boiling water had dripped on his palm. He was used to the sensation, but he worried for her. He was usually in very good control of his ability, he hadn't accidentally burned anyone in years.

She pulled her hand back, and he was about to move forward, apologize, until he saw the marking blooming on her palm. He flipped his hand over to find a similar design on his hand. She was doing the same. He clenched his fist shut and opened his mouth to ask what exactly was going on when the ground beneath him began to shake. He hadn't been very steady on his feet to begin with, and the motion didn't help his balance, his headache, or his stomach. He stumbled sideways, his hightops drifting across the ground without any traction. He promptly landed on his back, and took a moment to gasp for air. Before he could even move, or reorient himself, Ket was grabbing him, jerking him to one side. There was no more burning sensation in the touch, just fear catching at the base of his throat.

He let himself get pulled to his feet, the small girl's hand iron around his. He wasn't sure how how many steps he actually took, and how many times he stumbled and she pulled him along on his knees. All he knew was by the time they stopped his legs felt bruised beyond belief. He groaned softly, resting his head against the rock behind him. He felt more wheezing coughs rise in his throat from the dust hanging over the rubble, and let a few loose before Ket spoke. He managed to out another "fine," before the fit of coughing continued. His body wasn't built for strenuous activity. He was fragile.

"Does this happen often?" He croaked after the fit of coughing passed, leaving his body limp and sore. His blue eyes flicked to her, a dry humor in them. The acute danger of the falling rocks had brought him back to himself a little more. "What about this?" He unclenched his fist where the strange mark lay innocently in his palm. His fingers were trembling, and he clenched his muscles to stop the shivers. He looked slowly at her. He wanted to light a fire to get a better look at the design, since her light seemed to have fallen somewhere. He cleared his throat, coughing slightly, and lifted the hand that didn't have the marking on it. "I'm going to light a fire now." He said cautiously. "I promise not to hurt you." Then he sparked a tiny flame on one finger. He let it grow until it filled the palm of his hand dancing merrily. The warmth made his shivering subside. He held his other hand up the the light until the small tendrils of flame were licking the marked hand, and squinted at it. It looked like an old fashioned gear or a sun or something. Strange.

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Ketzubelle Deepwalker

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“Often?” Ket asked, giving a small laugh after their coughing had subsided. She saw that he was serious, and hurriedly gave a more complete answer. “No, not really. This is the first I have been in in several years. The last one wasn’t even half as bad either.” She looked around cautiously. The shaking had lasted for a bit less than a minute, but it had felt much longer. Ket was only partially surprised when she saw that only a few large boulders had dislodged from the ceiling. The largest was the one that had almost crushed them earlier, and it was now separating them from her runelight. Despite how old the tunnels were, they were well built by some ancient technology. It was lost knowledge how they were actually built, and any new tunnels were often much more fragile. Still, that meant that whatever happened, the walls remained largely intact.

Ket stood, trying to see into the darkness to discern if the others were alright. Salem asked if she knew anything about the mark on their palms. She only shook her head, staring down at it in puzzlement. Hesitantly, as if scared it would do something to her, she touched the design with her other hand. When there was no reaction, she rubbed the surface of her palm, closing her eyes. It felt no different than it had before, and the design seemed to make no indent in her flesh. When she opened her eyes, which were already becoming used to the darkness, she carefully traced the outline of the design. She had no idea at all what it was supposed to be. Why had it appeared when she touched the strange boy? Her eyes flickered over to Salem, who was studying his own hand and still shivering, before she looked to the floor deep in thought. She realized she had touched him before, just not on his hand… not until the handshake. Was that something to do with it?

He cleared his throat behind her, gaining her attention, before telling her he was going to light a fire. His tone made it sound like he was trying to soothe a scared child, and it made Ket feel somewhat irritable. However, she watched with an intense curiosity as he raised his left hand. As soon as the light sparked over his finger, she gasped and kneeled down closer, probably a bit too close. Her own mark seemed to warm in response, almost as if she was creating the fire. She hardly noticed though. Ket looked around his arm, trying to see if there was some kind of mechanism that allowed him to start a fire so easily, but she could not see anything that would do that. The odd equipment around his neck was probably too far away from his palm, and did not seem to be the source anyway. Ket could see nothing popping up under his sleeves either. She was completely baffled. It was as if the flame had come out of thin air!

All in all, Ket looked like a kitten that had seen its first candle, cautious, yet curious around the unknown entity, and far too close to the possibly dangerous flame. Salem was still examining the design on his hand as Ket asked, “How did you do that? I can’t figure out where you have your fire starter. It is almost like you are a magician or something!” She began to reach out a finger, curious as to whether the flame was even hot.

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Salem Northwood

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Several years. He'd never actually experienced an earthquake before, at least consciously. Maybe a few small tremors had shaken the city while it slept, but nothing that could shake buildings down or cause ceilings to crumble. "Oh." he murmured, watching her examine the carnage. Looking at it, it didn't seem as bad as it had a few seconds ago. Perhaps being in the event had made everything seem more magnanimous that it actually was. Although, it didn't take much to make large rocks falling towards one seem more terrifying than they were. Which was still pretty terrifying. He managed to swallow his distress over the situation. It was almost laughable, after all the times he'd nearly been hit by cars while jaywalking or driving recklessly, this situation seemed more deadly by tenfold. Perhaps it was the weakness he could feel in his body. He was in much more pain than he wanted to let on, but his difficulty breathing, the nausea, an the headache weren't just going to go away on their own. And he would have been crushed if Ket hadn't pulled him out of the way. There was no way he would have been able to pull himself to their safe little spot in his condition. Maybe he should thank her for that at some point.

Not now though. They weren't out of the danger yet. At least, he wasn't, not while he was in this unfamiliar place. So instead he just studied the strange mark on his hand, which Ket seemed to have the inverse of, and watched his little fire dance around. It was warm, and he could already feel the warmed blood rushing to his cheeks and his extremities. That on its own was comforting. He didn't notice Ket's interest right away, not until she near enough that the firelight flickered against her fascinated features. Why would she be so enthralled by this? She had that strange glowing stone, didn't she have a Gifted who could imbue inanimate objects with such bright light? But he didn't say anything. He kind of liked the attention. Okay, he really liked the attention. Already there was a smile on his face, his teeth whiter than his skin.

When she questioned his abilities, it gave him a small start. "I don't have a lighter or anything." He said, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm Gifted. My talent is fire. Don't you have Gifted people here? Like, people with supernatural talents?" He asked. Maybe she'd just never seen a such a strong fire talent before. He was the one of the only listed fire starters who could create fire without a source, maybe that was what amazed her? If it was a small place then maybe only a few of the people were Gifted?

As she reached out a finger, he moved his hand back just a little bit. "Wouldn't do that if I were you." He said, trying to sound serious. He didn't know if he could make the fire cool enough to touch. He'd done it a few times, but his ability wasn't acute enough yet to accurately control. Especially when he had a hard enough time controlling his temper. He didn't want to take a chance and accidentally burn her. But he wouldn't actively stop her if she was stubborn enough to keep trying to put her hand in the flame. Especially since both of his hands were touching the flame, and it didn't seem hot. He'd had people try that before. To him the flame was pleasantly warm, and that's all he really cared about.

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Ketzubelle Deepwalker

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“Gifted?” Ket asked, her brow furrowing slightly in thought. Her hand paused for a moment. “So no tools at all, hm. No, I have never heard of anyone being… ‘Gifted’. I am sure around here if anyone was able to shoot fire from their palms, the story would get out pretty fast,” she said in a confident tone. Her hand resumed its journey toward the flickering flame Salem held in his palm. She stopped about an inch from the flame and held her hand there, feeling the heat that radiated from the fire. Salem drew back slightly, warning her not to stick her finger into it. “I guess it does feel like a normal flame. It doesn’t burn you though?”

Abruptly, they heard another shout from where the lights had been approaching before the earthquake. Ket’s head turned toward the noise as she tried to figure out where it was coming from. As she did, though, her finger accidentally moved into Salem’s fire. She instantly jerked it back with a distracted, “Ow.” She brought the singed finger to her lips and lightly blew on it as she stood. “Oops, my fault,” she said, smiling embarrassedly. She moved a couple feet to the right until she could see the approaching runelights.

“We are alright over here. Anyone hurt?” Ket shouted to the approaching constable, her voice only slightly raised. When he answered in the negative, she turned and knelt again next to Salem. When her eyes settled again on the flame, a worried look crossed her features. She finally began to hear the footsteps approaching, and that seemed to help her make her decision. She quickly put her hands on either side of his and forced Salem’s palms together to extinguish the flame. She held his hands a moment as she spoke in a low voice, “It might be better to conceal your… abilities for now. As far as I know, no outsider has ever come to Keppel, so I don’t know how people will react to…” she pulled her hands back, motioning to his hands, “that kind of thing.”
In a normal voice, Ket continued as if she had not said anything yet, “Can you stand? If you’re cold, I can loan you a blanket.” She stood and held out a hand to help him up if he needed assistance.

When they were both on their feet, Ket moved around the rock that had partially blocked them from view. She searched the dusty, pebble laden ground for her runelight and her jacket. She quickly found both. Her jacket had unfortunately gotten a small tear along the seam, but that could be easily fixed. She took the pack off her back and unhooked the blanket tied underneath. She handed it to Salem as the constable approached with the young boy from before trailing him like a lost puppy. The young boy stared at the ceiling cautiously as he tiptoed across the floor. It was as if he was scared that simply stepping too loud would cause another earthquake. Ket gave him a reassuring smile before turning her attention to the constable.

He was an older man, but still in excellent shape. His shoulders were broad and muscled, and he held himself with undeniable authority. His hair was cut short, and a salt-and-pepper beard framed his jaw. As he walked, he had a rather significant limp. From his physique, Ket guessed that he had been a miner at some point. Whatever had caused his limp had probably also lead him to seek less taxing work than mining. Still, he seemed confident in his authority, so he probably had been a constable for a while. His dark brown eyes flickered over to Salem’s form. “This the man wot was unconscious?” Ket gave a small nod, settling her bag back on her shoulders. As he held out his own runelight to better examine the boy as he approached, he started out, “You alright, boy?” Before Salem had time to respond, the constable suddenly tensed as he noticed Salem’s clothing. “Wait! You’re no Kupelli. Who are ya, and how did an outsider get in? he demanded, a threat clear in his voice as he stepped in front of the young boy and Ket, as if to shield them from harm.

His large hand rested on the weapon that hung at his side, and he quickly pulled it out and levered it at the white-haired boy. It looked like an old pistol of some kind. It was obviously ancient, but from the confident way the man held it, it was still in fine working condition. The odd, reddish material was well burnished, and it almost looked wooden. In reality, it was made of a specialized metal only found in the Mining District of Keppel. This was obviously a scavenged gun, since current blacksmiths had yet to figure out how to properly fashion the metal into anything more delicate than a hammer. Still, like any gun, it was a deadly weapon.

Ket quickly stepped around the man with her hands raised. The mark on her palm was exposed, but the constable did not seem to notice it in his worry over the outsider. She placed herself between Salem and the gun, while intoning calmly, “Whoa, whoa. Hold on. He isn’t from around here, but I doubt he means any harm, right?” she said, looking back at Salem. “Anyway, I called for help because he was unconscious, and still doesn’t look to good, not because he was going to do harm.” Finally, Ket gave a pointed look at the gun and the man lowered it with a sigh. She lowered his hands at the same time and the constable stepped forward so Salem was in his sight again. He had not put his gun away, but he held up the soft red-orange runelight again to look at Salem’s face.


“You do seem pretty pale, son. Anything wrong with him?” he said hesitantly, ending up directing the question to Ket. Despite his question, he was still rather tense.

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Salem Northwood

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No Gifted? He'd had suspicions, but the confirmation still sent his mind reeling with questions. Who led them? Why didn't they have any Gifted anyway? They were so common, shouldn't they at least have one? It was so strange. But he didn't push the topic. Maybe they did have a Gifted with a less obvious talent then he had. Or maybe whoever it was kept quiet. Or maybe they had a different word for Gifted here? He wondered again about the stone. Someone would have had to imbue it with luminary qualities, right? He turned his mind from the spinning questions and focused on her hand, which was very close to his flame. Her fingers were very dainty, but very worn. What an odd mix. "No, it's just pleasantly warm to me." He said, his breath flickering the firelight. "Nothing hot burns me." He added, tilting his head slightly. He was almost able to see the situation from her perspective. If she'd never met a firestarter before, he was probably very strange. And maybe a little scary? But she didn't seem scared of him anymore. Just fascinated.

The sounds made him look up as well, and he felt more than heard Ket's exclamation of pain as her finger met his fire. A tiny twinge of pain jolted through his own finger. Empathy pain? His mouth opened slightly, he meant to tell her to put water on the small burn so it wouldn't blister, but the sensation had been so odd. This whole situation was just odd. His blue eyes tracked her as she called out to the source of the voice as he hunched closer to his fire. He was really starting to miss the sun.

She knelt in front of him again, the light from his cupped hands making strange shapes dance across the bottom of her face. Her hands cupped his, they were incredibly warm, and snapped his palms closed like a book. The fire flared for a moment before suffocating between his thumbs. Salem turned his eyes up to her pale, wide ones, and nodded slightly. Keeping his ability a secret could also help in self defense, if everyone was not so small and nice as Ket. He wasn't sure why he trusted her, perhaps it was because she seemed about his age and, well, he'd just woken up and needed something to hold on to, but rationality told him that he'd run into trouble sooner or later in a strange place with people who were not like him. No outsiders. No Gifted. How old was this civilization, and how had no one found it from one of the cities before this? It didn't add up.

He accepted her hand up, not trusting his own knees. Once standing, he shifted back and forth, gingerly balancing his weight. His head spun for a few moments, blood rushing from his already pale face, draining the color from his lips, before he normalized. "Thanks." He said, forcing a smile as he accepted the blanket. He swept it over his shoulders, using his headphones to secure it on his back. It helped his hands a little bit, though he didn't generate enough body heat to do himself much good.

Then the owners of the voices Ket had been communicating with came into view. Salem instinctively took a half step back. It wasn't that he had problems with authority...well, actually, it was that he had several issues with authority. Being the spoiled and Gifted son of a rich and influential family made him clash with pretty much everyone who'd ever tried to tell him what to do. And this man, with his grizzled, muscular physique, looked just the time. Salem stood very still as the man examined him, as one might do when being inspected by a large dog, but when another one of those mysterious glowing objects, Salem had to lift a hand to shield his eyes from the brightness glaring into his eyes, which caused the blanket around his shoulders to fall back, revealing more of his attire.

Suddenly the mood in the room shifted. Tension sprang up from nowhere. Salem's shoulders tightened, but he had nowhere to flee. His second instinct was to make his own path and escape that way, but he didn't want to hurt Ket. So he just stared down the barrel of the gun. It looked like a toy kids used when pretending to be cowboys from a long time ago, filled with BBs that only left small round bruises on the skin. But the way the man held it told Salem that it was most definitely not a toy. He wasn't sure exactly what to do, so he just lifted his other hand so both were just above his head, the backs of his hands forward. Blood rushed through his ears, making his knees feel faint.

Before anything bad could happen, however, Ket interceded, placating the weapon bearing man. Salem slumped in relief almost instantly, double so when the girl managed to convince the man to lower the gun. He pulled the blanket close to his chest again, mouth pulled in a thin, tight line. He forced himself not to flinch away from the light, though it did nothing but aggravate his headache.

When the man spoke, slight trepidation in his voice, Salem couldn't help but snap, the fear in his system burbling into a froth of annoyance. "I'm albino." He was smart enough to not add 'Of course I'm pale.' after it, but his tone was still antiseptic. Unconsciously he began edging nearer to Ket. His annoyance died just as quickly as it had sprung up, casing his frame to wilt. "I'm fine." He told Ket in a tired voice, trying to convince himself more than anything.

---

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Ketzubelle Deepwalker

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As Ket interceded, she could faintly feel Salem’s relief, though she was not facing him to see his expression. It should have felt strange, but for some reason Ket thought nothing of it. Especially since her focus was mostly on the uneasy constable standing before her. Salem was able to answer the questions, seeming almost annoyed at the comment about his paleness, before once again assuring them that he was fine. Ket still doubted that, but there was not much that could be done for him here. She was still aware of the weapon in the man’s hand, but it seemed unlikely the man would use it unless Salem did something rash.

He did seem annoyed at the acidity in Salem’s comment about his being albino. Though he still did not holster his gun, he seemed to no longer feel as threatened by the outsider’s presence. Finally satisfied with the boy’s appearance, the man lowered his runelight, soon letting off a stream of questions. After each, he paused just long enough to allow Salem to answer, before cutting off any other statement with the following question. “Who are you boy? Speak up now! Where is it you came from? How did you find Keppel? What is your purpose here? Are you some kind of spy? Who do you work for? Are you sure you got here by accident?”

Finally, he seemed content with his interrogation. “Very well, I will take you to the station and the captain will decide what to do with you from there,” the man stated, and his tone left no room for argument. He motioned with his free hand that Salem should go ahead of him, still wielding the gun that gave undeniable weight to his words. He waited as long as he had to until the boy obeyed. Ket nodded at Salem and gave a reassuring smile.

Once he started moving, she followed behind, diverting any questions from Salem or the constable by saying, “It is on the way anyways, so of course I will stick around until then. That should not be a problem, right, sir?” with her question, she addressed the constable, who reluctantly murmured his approval. It was not long before they exited the large room and continued westward. The young boy running ahead and soon disappearing to do whatever task Ket had interrupted him from.

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Salem Northwood

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Salem shifted uncomfortably. His snapping was a mistake, but with his fear, the dizziness, and the brightness of the light the man was shining into his sensitive eyes, everything was too much for him. He'd just woken up in a strange place and nearly got crushed by falling rocks. Politeness had never been prominent in his dictionary. Part of him warned that he should take the gun more seriously, but now that it was not pointed at him he all but ignored it. When the glowing stone was moved down, the light no longer shining directly in his face, he relaxed, folding his arms over his chest. Then the grand interrogation began. "My name is Salem Northwood. I'm from the West Orlan district. I don't know how I got here. I swear I'm not-- I'm not a spy. I just woke up--I'm positive. I don't remember anything." He answered the questions quickly as they came at him. Though his voice was even, it was obvious that he was wary and uncomfortable by the way his eyes widened, flicking everywhere without cease.

He didn't like the sound of going to this 'captain' which he assumed was the head of whatever kind of police force this place had. Couldn't he just go home? Salem hesitated for a moment when the man gestured at him, urging him to start walking. He felt very much like he wanted to split right now, dart away, back where ever he'd come from. But there was no outrunning a gun. He cast his eyes at Ket as he started walking forward. She was silently communicating calm at him. She was pretty good at that silent reassuring thing, actually, now that he noticed it he could feel it sort of...radiating from her. It didn't completely quell his instinct to run, and his pale fingers gripping the blanket around his shoulders tightly, but he was being good and walking first like the armed authority told him to.

Maybe now would be a good time to pull out all the cards he had in his deck, except, of course, resorting to violence, since he really did not want to hurt Ket. Even if this man didn't know his family, maybe it would work. At the very least he hoped it would lend him some innocence. "Um..." He said, clearing his throat and trying to affect a polite voice, "when will I be able to leave? My parents are probably looking for me." Which was likely true. Though, when no trace of him showed up within city limits or with a ransom note attached, he'd be pronounced MIA, which was the same as a death sentence. He swallowed hard. He really hadn't left on a good note. But maybe when he came back fine and dandy they'd be a little more willing to give him freedom.

Oh, who was he kidding, maybe he should actually stay here in this strange place for a little while. Let them cool down. Even if it was obviously fraught with peril. And the people were strangely dressed. Like the impoverished people from fantasy movies, wearing layers of worn clothes. And, according to Ket, they had no gifted. Which was strange all on its own. "Or is there a way I could contact them?" He added a beat later, still trying to be polite as possible. His mind had gone to his music player for a moment, which would have been able to contact his parents if it were not out of battery. And the chances of getting a good wifi signal down here weren't that great, honestly, unless this place had some tricks up its sleeves.

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Ketzubelle Deepwalker

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In response to Salem’s innocent question, the constable shook his head and sighed softly. “Boy,” he rumbled, “I told you we are goin’ to see the Captain. You won’t even think about leavin’ ‘til then.” The man paused a moment, listening rather impatiently to Salem’s next query. “If they’re here in the Domes, we can send a runner when we come across ‘un. But…” he paused, pointedly inspecting Salem’s clothing. “I get the feelin’ you ain’t no local. Now, let’s go.” The man was plainly done with answering questions, and he made his impatience all the more clear as he slightly raised the gun and motioned toward the door.

Ket, who had been watching the scene unfold with quiet interest, gave a small shrug, then nonchalantly began walking toward the door, leading the small party. She cut off the constable’s warning to stay behind him with a wave of her hand and a carefree, “No worries, I’m fine.” She adjusted her backpack slightly as she walked, taking a mental inventory to make sure she had not left anything behind, and held her runelight slightly in front of her. When she approached the door, she stuck the small, marble-like object back in her pocket. It gleamed through the fabric a moment, then suddenly darkened, as though it knew it was no longer needed. She slowed as she exited, waiting for Salem especially to catch up to her.

The well-lit hall was bright after the near-pure darkness of the room, but it took only a moment to adjust to the warm, orange-red lighting. It was much easier on the eyes than the smaller runelights, but still provided plenty of light to see by. As Salem came out into the light, Ket waited for him to adjust. The constable emerged just a moment later, and, seeing Ket unconcernedly standing near the boy once again, heaved a sigh and holstered his weapon. He didn’t clasp the holarwe closed, however, and Ket noticed the ever-vigilant tension of his form. Though he projected confidence, he was by no means letting down his guard. He motioned to their left, and Ket started off, matching her pace to Salem’s.

Salem swallowed the annoyed groan burbling in his throat in response to the man's words. He'd tried to be polite, to no effect. Well, these people didn't know who he was. They didn't know how angry his parents would be when they discovered him. He hitched the blanket up higher over his shoulders, trying desperately to warm himself up further so his teeth would quit chattering, and shuffled in front of the man, out the rough-hewn door. He had no idea where he was going. Why did he have to go first? It wasn't like he had any weapons on him. What was he going to do? Bite someone? The constable didn't know he could control fire, unless he was Gifted with the Sense, which was highly unlikely, considering what Ket had told him...or not told him...about the gifted in this place.

Before Salem could exit the door, Ket was in front of him, leading them out into the hall. Thank goodness, because once the pale boy stepped out into the brighter light, his eyes turned to slits. He could not see at all. He was highly sensitive to light anyway, his poor eyes, and it was such a sudden change from the darkness of the previous room. Of course, he didn't want to go back, he'd almost been squished by rocks in that room, but he did affect a scowl to show his displeasure. Ket fell into pace with him as they started walking, and electric blue eyes fixed on her. Was it a mistake to trust her? She was so small and innocent looking though, underneath the layer of grime and hard work that lingered on her figure. She was obviously from a poor home, but the constable looked similar. Was everyone down here just poor? Had he ended up in the wrong neighborhood? How had he even gotten here? So many questions.

It wasn't long before the boy could open his eyes a little more, and then he could study his surroundings. He was still confused about the glowing lights around him, these were more like sunlight, less like the fluorescent-bulb-esque rock Ket had held in her hand. If they had no Gifted, how did they get these lights? It didn't make a lick of sense. But obviously the constable was not in any mood to answer more questions, Salem could feel tension radiating from the man like heat from a stove coil, and he knew that asking any more questions would be futile.

But Ket...he felt a strange connection to her. Like he could trust her. Maybe that was just because she was the first thing he'd encountered down here, and she also wasn't holding a gun. That was certainly a plus. Salem struggled to pull the blanket even tighter to his form, it was tangled in his useless headphones, and began summoning questions from the vast pit of queries inside his mind.

"So...is everything here underground?" He asked tentatively, his hushed voice still feeling too loud in the tunnel. That actually wouldn't be too bad. At least it would be dimmer than broad daylight, even with these weird glowy-rocks. "And how far away exactly is this Captain?" He wasn't going to say it out loud, but it was obvious by the way he held himself slightly hunched over that he wasn't doing too hot. He hadn't eaten since he didn't know when, and his head still ached, and his body was sore for reasons he couldn't remember. Ahh, life was so unfair sometimes. Waking up in a strange place, having a gun pointed at oneself, being made to walk long distances. It was really not a good time.

---

Ketzubelle's gaze shifted to meet Salem's vibrant eyes as he began asking questions. She did not seem startled, but more like she had just been waiting for him to initiate conversation. In all honesty, she was curious what the first thing to come out of the stranger's mouth would be. She felt a vague sort of connection to him, as though she wanted to like him or felt as though they had known each other long ago, but could not totally explain the feeling. It made her curious. That, along with the fact that Salem was definitely a Stranger in the fullest sense of the word, as in not from Kuppel, made him quite the puzzle for her.

She smiled slightly at his question, looking up at the ceiling and considering how it must seem to one unaccustomed to Kuppel. She looked back at him, her head tilting slightly as she clasped her hands behind her back. "Well, it is not technically underground. At least for the most part." She bore a thoughtful look for a moment, as if considering what else she could possibly add, then shrugged. He asked about the how far the captain was, and Ket shot a look back to the constable still walking a pace behind them. "Excuse me, who is your commanding officer? Captain Tonkii, or Captain Norngren? Oh, and how rude of me, what may I call you? I am Ketzubelle. Ketzubelle Deepwalker." She turned, pausing, and extended her hand.

The man eyed her for a moment, glancing at Salem as though to make sure he would not run off. He gruffly responded, "Captain Norngren. And its Pern. Constable Pern." He took her hand for just a moment before releasing and waving her forward. "Let's get going. We've got a lot of ground to cover." Ket nodded her thanks and turned back to Salem. She spoke as they started off again. "To answer your question, since Captain Norngren is one of the Market District captains.... Hmmm. It is about half a day from here to the Mining District," she said, glancing around at the markings on the walls. She was quite familiar with this particular tunnel, so it was not difficult to approximate where she was. "And it is a bit less than a day's walk to the Market District." She nodded to herself, then turned her attention back to Salem. "Anything else?"

---

She seemed to consider his question, but her answer was completely unhelpful. What did that even mean? Salem had to bite his tongue to keep himself from arguing with her and demanding that she elaborate. He had too many questions to linger too long on just one of them. Then she paused to make nice with the constable, while Salem stood awkwardly. He didn't mind being ignored in this situation, though he was eyed suspiciously by the man, because he had no desire to introduce himself. Unless of course introducing himself would mean that he could go home. His stomach felt hollow, and his head spun. This was not fun whatsoever.

The names the two spoke raced between his ears, not sticking whatsoever, but when they started walking again and Ket let him know exactly how long they would have to walk, Salem tipped his head back and groaned very loudly. He couldn't help it. He didn't want to walk that far. Especially not with a gash in his forehead and nothing in his stomach. He didn't want to tell Ket that he didn't think he could make it that far, but he also didn't want to just collapse again. Although...if he did pass out, then he wouldn't have to walk anymore, right?

...no, it wasn't worth it. At least, not yet.

Salem rubbed at his eyes with the pads of his fingers, wishing that this was all a dream, and that he'd wake up any second back at home, where there were no rocks falling from the sky and men pointing guns at him randomly. But no, this was very real. He could tell, mostly by the water sloshing uncomfortably in his belly, and the constant throbbing in his skull. His knees were shaking slightly as he walked, and keeping himself upright was a bit of a chore. Knowing just how much longer they had to walk was not making the journey any easier for him. But he didn't want to get turned into swiss cheese by they ancient looking gun, so he kept trudging along.

Anything else? Which question would be good to use next? "Districts? How many people live here?" He asked, wrapping his arms around his middle so his stomach wouldn't growl, and holding the sides of his makeshift cape under his arms. "And how come there aren't many visitors?" Then he mumbled, slightly under his breath but still loud enough that Ket could hear him, "And how on earth did I get here?"

Those were all very good questions, but Salem already had a feeling that Ket wouldn't do much for answering his questions, judging by the look on her face when she answered the previous one. But oh well. It was a welcome distraction from how entirely crummy he felt, at any length.

---

Ket watched Salem's face from the corner of her eye. He seemed to be struggling, both with the idea of this place and with physical discomfort. Unless he mentioned it, though, there would be little point in bringing it up. Ket doubted very much that Constable Pern would be willing to stop just yet. Besides, there was nothing worse for misery than focusing on it. She was pleased when he continued on with his questions after a short pause. It was a good way to scope him out a bit and learn more about him.

"I would say at least a few thousand per district, though it would obviously vary, of course. Don't know that there's been an official census, or at least I haven't seen it. I suppose I don't exactly know how many...." She placed her finger on her lower lip as she pondered the problem, but Salem continued before she thought up any more of a concrete answer. His next two questions came in a quicker succession, and just as she opened her mouth to answer the first one, the second murmuring caught her off guard. Ket fell silent for a moment. She wanted to reassure him, to assuage his worries and doubts, but she saw no solid solution to do so.'

She considered for a time, their footsteps making a staccato beat on the dusty floor. All other sound seemed muted."Well," she started out, quickly trailing off. She took a deep breath and tried again, her voice lower this time, though still easy to understand. "I don't really understand how you got here, or where from. Perhaps there breach somewhere in the walls.... You don't remember?" Her face searched his for a moment, though she did not know what she was looking for. Before he could respond, she continued. "In my memory, there has never been someone from outside the Domes who came here. When I was little, I thought the Domes were all there was, and the Kupelli were the only people in the world. Grandmother told me that long ago, there were other ancient civilizations, but even she seemed uncertain whether there were many still out there. I always thought that was why no strangers came to Kuppel." She kept her voice quiet,as though not sure if she wanted the constable to hear, and uncertainty ran through her words.

Suddenly, she burst out with a new question. "What is it like where you come from? Are there many of your people?"