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@emberynus-the-dragonslayer @dakota @urwen-starial @mayacat @naiya-dyani

I’m going to assume I didn’t annoy anyone and tag you all again. I have a new part. I’m not sure if it’s any good, but hopefully it adds a little to my overdue participation.

Callia traced the words engraved on the rough stone of the alleyway she was in. It made her a little sad to see all of the tiny imperfections in the city, especially because no-one else cared to see them.

She knew if she wanted them to disappear, she had to find the root of the problem. That’s what she’d always been told.

It was the main reason she’d joined the Quill’s team, to help find news for the company. That, and she’d always loved stories. And. . . it was the only way anyone ever told her anything important.

Something caught her eye a little ways ahead, at the end of the alley and in the plaza. It was hard to see what it was under the shadow of the canopies lining the alley, but it almost looked like a fight, between a store owner and a young boy.

She didn’t really want to intrude, but curiosity got the best of her, as usual, and she began to run.

The plaza was much brighter than the alleyway and starting to get busy again, so Callia stuck to the edges, trying to stay out of people’s way.

Despite her efforts, she accidentally tripped on the uneven cobblestones, nearly knocking someone over, and fell to her knees.

“Are you okay?” Callia heard someone ask.

She brushed her orange hair out of her face and looked up.

Someone was standing beside her, offering her a hand to help her up. She took it gratefully.

“I’m fine,” Callia said. “I’m sorry if I got in your way somehow.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve fallen in this plaza more times than I’d like to mention,” the person said. “I wish we had the money to fix it.”

“We?” Callia repeated. “Oh. The city, you mean.” She looked down at the ground. “Me too.”

“Hey.”

Callia looked up again and got her first good look at who she was talking to: a boy probably her age, with messy gray-blonde hair and startling gold eyes.

“Yes?” Callia asked.

“You. . . seem sad,” the boy noticed. “Did you get hurt? I can help you, if you need it.”

“No, I’m okay,” Callia said. “I was just thinking about how our city really, really needs some help. A lot of things are failing. I thought when I joined the Quill that I could help people see it, but nobody wants to hear about things like that.”

“I know,” the boy told her. “I wondered if I could when I started helping Outopian Wings, and I found the same problem. People are focusing on all the wrong things. Maybe that’s why the rebels have hid so easily: No-one is looking in the right places.”

“I think so,” Callia admitted. “I’d love a bit more info on the rebels, but haven’t found anything in weeks. Nobody has.”

“I’m hoping that will change soon,” the boy said. “I got permission to start a team for the Wings that will focus on the rebels specifically. Maybe we can find something.”

“That sounds great,” Callia told him. “I wonder. . . if it would be against the rules to help you with that?” A spark of curiosity shown in her blue eyes.

“Probably not, we get help from the Quill all the time,” the boy explained. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, right,” Callia realized she’d forgotten to introduce herself. “My name is Callia Raymi. I’m from the seventh sector.”

“Wesley, from the sixth,” the boy replied. “Please call me Wes, though. Everyone else does.”

“Alright,” Callia said. “Nice to meet you. I. . . should probably get going. I was hoping to find a story here, so I can take a break this afternoon, and-” She stopped, wondering if she was oversharing.

“Can I help with that?” Wes asked, holding out a notebook to her.

“You wouldn’t mind?” Callia asked him, hesitating. She really wanted to accept, but she could probably find a story for herself, and taking one from someone else seemed almost like cheating.

“Of course not,” Wes told her. “Most of the important info gets sent by the Quill to us, anyway, so if it’s any good, I’ll get it back minus the credit. And I’m sure you deserve a break.”

“That’s so kind of you,” Callia said gratefully as she took the book. “Really, you don’t have to do this.”

Wes smiled. “You don’t have to be helping us, either, but you are. And. . . well, if you wanted to take part in the Wings project I’m working on. . .”

“Of course!” Callia said. “Thank you so much for this. I hardly even know you, but. . . I don’t know, I feel like I should help you.”

“Are you sure we haven’t met?”

Callia blinked.

Now that she thought about it. . . Wes did seem sort of familiar. So was his name. But she didn’t know why or how.

She settled for an “I don’t think so”.

Wes sighed. “Right. I’m not sure what I’m thinking. I just. . . trust you.” He looked down, a little embarrassed.

Callia was getting the impression trusting people wasn’t a normal thing for him, and she was touched by his honesty.

“I want to trust you, too,” Callia told him. “Maybe we should work on your project. What exactly is it, by the way?”

“I’m supposed to find a group of people who will help Outopian WIngs by gathering info on the rebels for us,” Wes explained. “That way the main group can focus on everything else. But since what people really want is the rebels caught. . . we’re just doing everything we can.”

“So is the Quill,” Callia agreed. “Well, I’d love to help with that. I should head back for now, I guess, but this afternoon, I should have nothing. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Wes promised. “If you have anything you want to give us on the rebels, you can come to our building in the main city.”

“Alright,” Callia said. “See you then, I guess.”

Wes nodded and disappeared into the crowd.

Callia didn’t move for a moment. She knew she shouldn’t, but the ever-curious part of her wondered who he was. Maybe she had met him before.

And even if she hadn’t, now she had. She wanted to get to know him and find out who he really was.

Wow, it’s longer than I thought it’d be. . . and kind of pointless, but something had to happen, I guess. I might delete it later. Hope you like it.