I want to get out of this city.
I don't know if I can put this feeling into words. The cold sun seems to pull the warmth from the day, so it feels as though every day is a trial to confirm that I am worthy of drawing the next breath. I am constantly bombarded with the concept that I have to ask for the right to exist, rather than the idea that because I exist, I have a right to maintain my existence. Every day I am in this forsaken city it feels as though I have to prostrate myself before an uncaring god for the right to my next heartbeat.
I have never felt the impact of history as I do now. In every neighborhood, without fail, empty buildings are being forced into disrepair. The night before taught me not to trust a well-kept house and it seems to be a lesson that the people of Slender Falls have taken to heart. Every so often there is a house in pristine condition, just like the one Anthony entered. The houses which surround it are in varying states of disarray and they will always be inhabited while the kept up house is not.
Forgive me, but this will be a very long entry and I must ask in advance that you do not skim the contents therein if you intend to travel within the Tall Man's grasp. As I understand it, Slender Falls is not unique in the many cities under his domain. The experiences recounted here should serve as a warning and guidance for those seeking to travel safely through the Black Hills.
It is clear that this city once held so many more people. In Bismarck it was different. The Gear Baby tore down empty buildings and recycled the materials. Here in the Tall Man's domain the buildings are left to fall apart, dramatically emphasizing the loss humanity has sustained thanks to the Plague. I wonder if maybe the Tall Man leaves the buildings in order to reinforce his hold over his people. As if to force them to confront their former independence just to emphasize how tight the shackles of slavery are.
The morning started out innocently enough. We left the hotel early in the day and headed to the city hall. The intent was to acquire a guide, just as we had in Bismarck. I know that last night I mentioned the faceless masses. Under the distant white sun, I saw that I had exaggerated somewhat. There are people without masks, however they seem... less. They fade into the background when compared to their masked counterparts. If I continue through the Tall Man's domain without a mask to protect me, will I fade away just as these others have?
Yet it is not that the masks are excessively ornate. They range from simple half-dominoes to full-face featureless covers with slits for eyes. They are all ivory or ecru or the color of old linen, trimmed here and there in muted colors. People stare at us, at our uncovered faces. I think there is something about us, something new and strange, for we were not ignored like the other unmasked residents. Instead, they stare. Gawk, I think the word is. They gawk at us.
"Sam..." Behind me, the Trader gave a wordless rumble of acknowledgement. "I feel...uneasy."
"Maybe there's hope for you after all, kid."
The comment did nothing to ease my nerves. We followed the signs to the City Hall. The building is a hallmark of days gone by, and I will try to do it justice.
It is a grand white building that dominates the local landscape, towering above the other buildings in the area. The building itself is constructed of a white stone with grey and gold specks. Marble? I think it must be marble. It is not what I pictured in my head when I read about this unfamiliar stone, but it fits the all the off-handed comments about this seemingly regal stone. Where I come from, ancient rivers have etched canyons into layers of sandstone. I can see now that my mental image of marble was only a glorified picture of a weak and frankly cheap substrate. Now I can see why marble is associated with opulence. The stone glitters in a way that attracts my eye, and like a magpie, I am drawn to it.
Thick marble columns frame the polished wooden doors that comprise the entryway. The doors themselves are a dark wood, the same brown as old, dried scabs. Bas relief sculptures are set into the walls on either side of the doors, etchings of a blind woman in robes, holding aloft a set of scales while bearded men hold scrolls and appear to deliver grand speeches. Wide, flat stairs lead up to the doors, though an odd, shallow ramp is built into the left side of the staircase, framed by rails that gleam in the uncaring sunlight. The columns hold up a roof that is peaked, whereas the main building's roof is a dome topped by a spire.
The doors swing open with barely a touch. The entryway is a cavern of the same scabby wood. Tall, thin windows begrudgingly admit light into the oppressive space. At the end of the room, a grand staircase rises to a secluded second floor. Two guards stand on the landing. They look...wrong. Stretched out. Tendrils of shadows dance at their back. Their masks don't even have eyeslits, as if the wearer doesn't even need to bother to pretend to be human anymore.
Even without eyes, I knew they were watching us.
Sam walked up to a mirror with a sign that states in silvery lettering: HELP DESK. I confess, I didn't pay much attention to the exchange. Instead, I walked away to another mirror with the helpful plaque: LIFE LICENSES.
"Excuse me." I didn't recognize my own reflection. The face in the mirror looked more like my father's than my own. I poked and prodded at the new bags under my eyes and almost missed the voice behind the glass.
"Yes, how can I help you?" The voice that answered was a pleasant tenor, and unnervingly human when coming from behind the mirrored glass.
"Erm. I guess I want to know more about life licenses. I'm new to the region, you see." I leaned my arm on the window sill and discovered that if I looked into my own reflection, I could see the man behind the glass. He shared many features with Sam. They both had the same narrow, fox-face, the same sharply angled cheekbones. I had to wonder if they shared a common ancestry.
"Oh!" He looked over his shoulder, into a dark area beyond the limited area I could see. "Um. Well, then. Erm. Every citizen must purchase a license for the privilege to live. The Tall King graciously allows at least one offspring per citizen, free with purchase of a life license, however citizens may purchase a lottery ticket for additional offspring if they choose. Does that answer your question?"
I glanced back at Sam, who was deep in discussion with the face behind the other mirror. "Sort of. So by purchasing a life license, they are purchasing a right to have a child?"
"Um, no, sir. They are purchasing a right to live. The right to have a child is provided as an incentive for citizens to purchase licenses."
My mind takes circuitous routes, sometimes. I can't ever really say why certain questions come to mind as they do. What is it, that when told about what citizens must do, I ask about- "How do you handle the non-citizens?"
"Sir?"
I took a moment to compose the thoughts running through my mind. "I suppose the question I'm really asking is, do non-citizens not have a right to life?"
"Oh, no, sir!" The voice on the other end of the mirror hastened to assure me. "It is just that without a life license, the chances of ones' survival quickly shrinks." He must have spotted my blank look from behind the mirror-glass. "The life license assures that registered citizens are protected from any potential Bone Man hazards encountered over the course of the registration term." After an agonizing moment of confused silence, he added, "Bone Men. They are the guardians." I guess he understood how completely lost I was by the whole encounter. "Look.... If you see a mask with no eyes, that's a Bone Man. They're the next highest level under the Tall King, so you'd better not make them angry."
He finally made eye contact with me behind the mirrored glass. It was the strangest thing. Once he realized I could see him behind the mirrored glass, once he had been "unmasked," he immediately turned away and started addressing the wall. "If there are no more questions, please step back so that other customers may approach the window." His tone was cold and clinical, but there was still an obvious underlying current of fear.
What is it? What is the clerk so afraid of? I just... I don't know. I really and truly don't know why the people of Slender Falls are so afraid.
I exchange polite goodbyes with the life license clerk, and turn away from my haggard reflection to greet Sam with the shadowed facsimilie of a smile. "I think I'm done here."
Sam only nods. "We'll have an official guide tomorrow. Until then, we're allowed to walk through the city as we see fit, so long as we wear these." She hands me a half-domino mask trimmed in a color like burnt wildflowers.
I hesitate for a hair's breadth before I fit the mask against my face and tie the ribbons behind my head. It seems as if the mask adjusts to my face, moving and settling like a living thing. I want to tear it off my face and throw it into the gutter, but indecision stays my hand. If I throw this vile thing into the gutter, will I still be allowed to walk the streets? If I choose my comfort, will I sacrifice information that might save the life of a future reader?
I don't know. I truly don't know. So for now, I grit my teeth and bear the alien monstrosity that squirms across my face before settling into the shape of a half-domino trimmed in orange.
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