Location: The Woven Gates
Timestamp: 40th day, Spring of 508 A.V.
Iredeth watched the Symenestra guard descend the long rope, her arms crossed over her chest and her foot tapping impatiently on the stone floor. Thick, black hair spilled out from the haphazard bun sitting atop her head and fell across the pasty white skin of her forehead. Every few seconds, she would brush it away irritably. The guard finally got down to within a few feet of the cavern floor and looked Iredeth up and down with a profound look of distaste on his face.
“No way am I letting a half-breed into the city. I’m not about to let you dirty our streets with your tainted blood,” the Symenestra drawled, hanging from the rope with effortless grace. Iredeth would have envied that grace if she weren’t so busy trying to restrain herself from slapping the man across the face.
This wasn’t her first time going to the city, but Iredeth was on the verge of deciding that it would be her last. Every time she had entered Kalinor in the past few years, she had been greeted by the same guard. The man had come to know her well enough not to ask questions and he had been polite and reserved enough not to openly mock her. They had an established relationship of sorts – she would get into the dangling basket, he would pull her up, and both of them would try to forget that she was a half-breed. But this time, there was a new guard on duty. He was young, arrogant, and had a perfuse dislike of half-bloods.
“It’s your job to let me in. I am not armed. I present no threat,” she said through clenched teeth, her black fingernails digging into the palms of her hands.
“You present a threat to the purity of Kalinor,” the Symenestra spat, meeting Iredeth's eyes with his a superior glare and quickly looking away. Nobody wanted to look straight into those eyes.
Iredeth bared her teeth, showing off fangs that were not quite as along as a Symenestra’s, but still imposing enough. “Let me in, you pathetic excuse for a living being,” she hissed, taking a few steps toward the end of the dangling rope.
The guard tilted his head upward and called out, “Pull me up. This one’s not going in.” Immediately, the rope was yanked upward, taking the leering Symenestra with it. Iredeth stomped her foot angrily and cursed under her breath. She needed to get into the city to buy sewing supplies, or she would have to wait for Sirella to come home and ask the woman to go instead. She hated asking the Symenestra woman for anything. She had already done so much for Iredeth.
Iredeth pivoted on her heel and began to pace, her long skirt swishing around her legs. She walked a few steps away from the gate, knowing full-well that there were other means of getting up into Kalinor. There was a vertical wall and a jumble of cords and webs she could have climbed. Could have… If I were a Symenestra. She threw her head back, trying to judge the height at which the city floated above. Perhaps, she could climb the cords after all… I can’t. I can’t and I know it.