Stage Fright

Aside from Lida the gold key, two silver ones were present in the city. The only thing the necklaces presenting the higher ranks showed was who could order around the others. The silver keys could make as many orders as they wanted, but had to follow Lida's. The lockpicks only needed to listen to whichever key in the battlefield was of the highest rank, but they held no right to make orders.

There were only three lockpicks in the ground portion of the revolutionaries' army, only a small amount of very specialized people actually earned the title. An all-round successful or influential warrior would be assigned a a key.

"I'm Jack." He said. The tall man had light brown hair in a short cut. He was about as young as Alya, but she had seen him train with his troops in the garden. He looked at the woman in her wheeled chair. He was interested to know how a person like her could become a lockpick, but refrained from asking for the time beeing.

She sat across the table, chewing on a small loaf of bread. The shelter around her was filled with male soldiers, half of them belonged to Cal's platoon, the other to the man in front of her. The man was also awarded the title of a lockpick, together they all sat in a sizeable hall filled with wooden tables and benches.

"I'm Alya." She reciprocated.

Jack's troops wore large plates of armor to cover their bodies, their tall rectangular shields covered every part of their bodies apart from the head. They all carried straight, long spears with them, which reminded Alya of needles. Some of them had helmets on, others had not afforded them. They were uncharacteristically well equipped to fight.

"Why are you not a key? Seems like you have a pretty normal frontline unit." Alya was curious. Personally, she had no idea why she was awarded any rank at all, aside from her past at a magic academy. She still had no idea what she would do with her ability to command her own platoon.

"They don't like my fighting style, but we do fight on the frontlines. Otherwise they wouldn't have let us keep all this armor." He lifted his helmet from the bench, "We all come from the same village, after the slaves convinced us to help them, we raided an armory in a small nearby town. We came to this city fully geared up. They wanted to take it at first, but we just walked into and won over the locks' nearby villages until they decided to let us in."

"Heh, sounds kinda familiar." Cal stepped to the table and sat down, "Hey there, I'm Cal. Those guys you see walking around? They belong to me."

Jack looked at Alya, she answered before his question came, "I don't have anybody under me."

He lifted his head as he tried to grasp her position, but Cal continued talking, "When I still was thieving, I met this guy called Donard. He owned a fairly large criminal group, mostly made up of slaves and homeless thieves like me. He was an ass, so I killed him. We travelled and raided around when we heard of the revolution, a good opportunity. They made me a leader and now I'm here."

Jack eyed his surroundings in suspicion ere he turned back to Cal, "Good for you, but do these guys even fight? I haven't even seen them carry a weapon yet."

Judgingly, Cal glanced at the young man, "A criminal doesn't show his tools. Also, I'd like to say we are more modest, we don't like to stand out."

"So are you guys murderers or what?" Jack leaned back.

Cal smiled, "Just like you are."

"I don't think so."

"Oh? So you haven't killed nobody."

Jack leaned forward and lowered his voice, "Only in the name of justice."

Cal made no effort to be friendly, "Oh, So did I. See? We do have something in common." He laughed provokingly.

Surprising Alya, Jack laughed as well, "Maybe."

He then turned back to her, "Do you know anything about Amelia?"

"Who?"

"The Amelia Opera. It's about the life of Amelia." He waited for a reaction, but kept going as he received silence, "One daughter of the royal family will always be called Amelia. In the name of the first, who was actually the queen of Uul when the country was a lot smaller. She supposedly used singing as magic. The battle that had decided the life or death of her country took place where the Opera is now constructed. You should be aware that she won, but only her magic made it possible. You can almost imagine what a battle with her would have looked like and why both the battle and city are called using that name."

Cal chimed in, "And why call the daughters Amelia?"

"The person who governs the city will always be a princess called Amelia. For the sake of pride, but also to continue the magic of the queen. I heard the current princess is very capable of using it. If we get far into the city, we'll probably face her."

"Hopefully not, I don't want to listen to singing that has harmed people in the past." Cal straightened his back and groaned.

Jack held his helmet before him and rubbed over the dents and cuts, "I hope so as well, she's supposed to be a real beauty. I have no reason to defile it if I can choose to."

Cal got up, "That'll get you killed someday."

Jack lowered his brows, but Cal just turned around and started to walk away, "Just a piece of advice."

"Thanks, then." Jack stayed positive. He seemed like a nice guy to Alya, but she wondered where he got the energy to stay that way.