It is hard to describe silence.
What is it but the absence of noise? How can we be sure that we are experiencing true silence? Does our heart not beat, constantly filling our ears with the sounds of rushing blood?
Is silence the dead, then?
But how to explain the sound of rotting gore, skittering creatures, and flesh-eating bacteria? Wherever one may turn, they are faced with subtle, inconsequential noises that mar the perfect surface of a would-be quiet.
There may not be true silence, but there are layers to the absence of sound.
The first, and perhaps most accurate to the definition, is among the stars. Where no atmosphere exists to carry waves of sound to the beach of your ears, there is silence. Pockets of gas among the deep black emptiness are not enough. That is the realm of the Gods.
To mention the Gods, the second layer of silence is their home. The place where they meet and are made, the Heavenly Palace, exists outside of the realm of existence we know to be true. The same is the case for other pockets of reality, dimensions, and the like. There, the only sound is power. Mana. The thrum of its movement, the source of it all, from which it leaks through to Ileron - the planet - and is granted by the Keeper to the Drai.
The third silence is a more polluted one - the quiet between people. Fear. Stewing anger. Quiet comfortability. It is only quiet for each person involved, where they retreat to the cushions of their minds to ruminate. The world still turns.
The fourth, and final, silence is of the world. When the wind stops, the loam ceases churning, birds stopper up their puffy throats, and the machines of industry stop rolling. It is a philosophical silence, not physical.
It is the same silence Yakob observes as he patrols the roads of Botre Village.
The black fibres of the Tomb Trenmir Civilian Corps uniform rubbed against his skin abrasively. He pulled at his collar, looking for some reprieve from the restrictions. By his side were three other recruits. They all had ugly batons by their sides.
The fourth silence is not the quiet of people, rather the spaces in between things and words. The sound of subtle movements, cold shoulders. The silence of energy and mana. It is not the absence of physical noise, as proven by the heavy breathing emanating from Brutus' fat mouth.
Brutus was the largest of the recruits. He had muscle, but only to support the yellow excess of subcutaneous sin. The baton seemed tiny as it slapped against his massive thigh. Yakob watched him stick a thick finger into his nostril and swish it around fervently. He cringed inwardly. Brutus was an apt name for the man.
Jackie walked behind Yakob and Brutus, her black uniform adorned with the badge of a Trenmir Lawkeeper. As she walked, she absent-mindedly spun the roll of paper filled with obscure Maurish law on her hip. The spinning ball bearings in the metal made a soft whirring noise as she fiddled.
That was the position Yakob had wanted - Lawmaker. Out of the way, passing judgements on the weary, interpreting the tiny lettering with minimal scrutiny. It would have been the perfect job for a spy.
If only he hadn't shown off in front of Darian. If only he hadn't screwed up the character verification so royally. If only he wasn't sibling to one of the most wanted men in Mauria.
Jackie whistled, a high tune that grated on Yakob's ears. It felt like gloating. She didn't like that he was quiet and watched him closely.
The final recruit in Yakob's Tomb Trenmir civilian corps patrol unit (designated TU-BV14) was Lauren. The only thing he knew about her was that she was an Alchemist aspirant - looking to prove herself to Darian for promotion to a Tomb Alchemist in earnest. She was threatened by Yakob, an emotion that wasn't unfounded based on the results of Yakob's mana aptitude test.
If only she knew Yakob was actually a Drai, infiltrating their ranks to pass knowledge of Trenmir activity along to his fellows at the Avidia Institute...
The sky was pregnant with rain, ominous clouds hanging low just to further blanket the gloom of Botre in their darkness. Though it was midday, Yakob noticed a distinct lack of people in the streets.
Windows were shuttered, store fronts empty. Only the occasional passerby filled the cobbled veins of Botre Village, always making sure their heads were down when passing by Yakob and the rest of TU-BV14.
Lauren produced a poster from a stack of similar ones within her pack and pasted it onto the wall of a quaint home. It was flimsy paper, but the glue made sure it stuck. As she pulled her hand away, Yakob cast a furtive eye across the thing.
He had seen it many times before. Even pasted some up himself. They were wanted posters, and read:
"WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE."
"AMOS AQUILA. CANCER DRAI."
"REWARD: 5000 CHIMES."
Amos' eyes rendered in charcoal stared back at Yakob. There was an accusation in them, a betrayal. He had provided the Trenmir with a description of Amos so as to appear compliant and trustworthy.
It wasn't strictly necessary, considering Darian had also seen Amos first hand, but it was important to keep up the appearance of a fervent little soldier for the Maurish Empire. Yakob had to pretend his mind was mush while surrounded by those with actual porridge for brains.
Brutus leaned back and let out an almighty belch. Yakob and Jackie both cringed away from him. The only thing he was good for was his threatening physicality.
The stench of Brutus' burp reached Yakob's nostrils and violently ripped him from his reverie.
There was another poster circulated for members of the Tomb Trenmir only. Even the civilian corps received a copy, but were given strict orders not to share it with anyone outside their faction. It had no name, but a drawing of Amos' companion, Ink. There was no named reward either. The only stipulation was that he be captured alive.
This was the kind of information Yakob was doing this all for. The inside knowledge of a lowly grunt. If only he could pass a message along to the Institute.
"I'm bored," Jackie said, using her massive scroll of law as a fidget spinner. "Let's do an inspection!"
"We've already met our quota today," Yakob reminded her.
Lauren nodded, then turned to Jackie. "Lawkeeper... Are we permitted to perform inspections past fulfilling quota?"
"Of course!" Jackie said, eagerly unspooling her scroll to find the specific passage where it was mentioned. "The law says-"
"Don't give a fuck 'bout the law," Brutus growled. "Wanna smash somethin'."
"Now, now, Brutus. There won't be any smashing," Lauren intervened. "Perhaps some light yelling, though... a bit of threatening..."
Brutus grinned. He wiped a bit of snot on his dark overcoat and reached for the baton at his side that looked so tiny on him.
"That's the spirit!" Jackie rolled her scroll back up on the whirring spool. "Lauren, you should pick this time."
Lauren watched Yakob visibly slump. Her eye twitched before she turned away from him and picked a house, seemingly at random. "That one," she whispered.
Yakob looked up, noticing for the first time what part of town they were in. The home Lauren was pointing at was familiar - a humble bakery with a stall out front, windows too high to let the dim light penetrate its walls.
Yakob's stomach sank. It was Arria's home.
In the few short months Amos had been on the run, Tomb Trenmir operations had increased significantly. All the villages and towns surrounding the Aquila family farm had blockades set up and performed routine inspections to make sure no conniving citizens were illegally hiding Drai. After all, if you were innocent then you had nothing to hide!
Even still, that amount of time was enough for the flowers in the planter boxes at the front of the Denholm bakery to wither and die.
When he had been here last, Yakob's nose had been assaulted by the scent of fresh bread and sweet pastries. The air was empty now. The stall out the front of the bakery was devoid of customers. There simply wasn't enough people milling about to warrant the output of product that Arria used to make.
Yakob knew this because he made time to visit Arria on his off days. She knew the plan and she disapproved of it, but she still loved him. Her Ma had gotten sick, so she didn't have as much time for baking as she (or Yakob) would have liked. And to bring it all to a head, Yakob's unit of mongoloids eager to please the overlords were going to break in and intimidate them and there was nothing he could do about it.
"Yakob!" Lauren called over her shoulder. The rest of TU-BV14 had begun walking towards the bakery already, leaving Yakob behind in his constricting uniform. "You coming?"
He felt sick pasting on a smile, but Yakob managed. He swallowed his anger and mumbled assent before grabbing his baton and soldiering forward.
Jackie was already at the door. She knocked repeatedly, quick shart raps. When there was no answer, she just kept knocking. On and on and on. Still nothing. Yakob hoped Arria and Ma weren't home. He knew they had nothing to hide save their connection to himself, but he still didn't want them to have to go through this 'inspection'.
Jackie had turned her knocking into a rhythm. Lauren pushed Brutus forward, his presence causing Jackie to stop the indefatigable noise. She rolled her eyes at him and gestured with a mocking bow, "Go ahead."
Brutus grinned and formed his meaty hand into a fist, then pounded heavily on the door. "Open up or we'll open the fucking thing for you!"
Yakob held his breath.