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Last Words with Ser Natalie: Aya the Soft
In the quiet of her little inn room, Aya could finally allow the storm of her emotions to break. Lamplight flickered low against the opposite wall, the midnight darkness fully settled within the interior, heady yet with spice and incense. Out of sight, out of mind, and away from watchful eyes, she felt the sudden urge to scream in frustration.Â
Moons had passed since the incident in Pearl Lane, when the two Sultansworn who she had relied upon as her protectors in a hostile city, proved instead to be agents of that very threatening menace. Still, the situation had changed dramatically, and besides, threatening to rough up a barmaid was a trifle compared to what else the two had been through. Perhaps they could be friends again, and put the unfortunate situation behind them.
Aya had already made her peace with Kage, he had anyways seemed a reluctant thug, and she knew he had made efforts to protect her even at risk to himself. Natalie was a different matter, however; she had seemed to enjoy her new 'duties' as a Brass Blade, and the two had not yet spoken since the events of that evening. It shouldn't have surprised Natalie that it was only with trepidation that Aya agreed to sit down and talk to her again.Â
There were no threats this time, it was an improvement. But no apology would be forthcoming; instead Aya found herself the subject of advice, well-intentioned or not, regarding the nature of Ul'dah, and its inherent corruption. Gil made the city go around, and everyone would be made to pay their share, it was just the way the city worked.Â
Aya squeezed her fist for a moment, recalling Natalie's explanations: justification, rationalization, evasion of responsibility. Natalie even had the temerity to suggest that she had done Aya a favor by being the one to threaten her, "another Brass Blade might not have let a physical assault go," she had said, referring to Aya's driving her high heel into Natalie's foot, the only moment of the entire situation that Aya could now recall with fondness.Â
Natalie's description of the city was not without its purpose: it promoted herself to a position of non-responsible importance, a cog in a machine that operated without her input, a well-intentioned agent of a depraved system, that was nonetheless necessary for the growth of civilization. At first Aya interpreted the words as a threat: leave this city or else, but she knew Natalie would have been more straightforward. No, she decided, the intent was earnest, Natalie wished to inform Aya about the city of Ul'dah that she knew, and to warn her of what to expect.
Aya already knew better, she was not as naive as Natalie believed. She already understood that such transactions, let alone the relationship channels along which they flowed, were less about gil, and more about power. Regardless of the city, regardless of its culture, there would always be officials, petty and otherwise, looking to lord above others. Creating fanciful fiction that it was actually for the victim's own good, may help them sleep at night, but brought nothing to the citizens they were sworn to serve. Ul'dah, to its great misfortune, may be more seriously afflicted by this cancerous corruption than other cities, but it is a difference of magnitude not nature.
The city the fallen Sultansworn described was not Ul'dah, so much as the slice of the city in which political power was concentrated. Traders, merchants, shopkeepers, legitimate and illegitimate, along with the officials and politicians entrusted with civic authority. To those without gil such flowery rhetoric was not just fantasy, but absurdity. The reality, as those who grow up on the streets of Ishgard, Ul'dah, or any other city cannot fail to learn, is that few things are worse than a corrupt official: criminals rarely pretend to protect, and even more rarely believe they are doing good for their victims.
Aya had made a mistake, it is true, she knew this. She had been naive. However, the question was not, "what?", but "who?", and now she knew the answer her peers had learned long before: never trust a Brass Blade.
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