EMPIRE OF THE CASTAWAYS

Chapter 13: Iron Masks

Ravindra

Iron Valley smelled different than Frostreach in ways that went beyond obvious contrasts of forge smoke versus clean mountain air or unwashed humanity versus sterile cold. It smelled of complexity, of lives layered upon lives in density that created its own ecosystem of scents marking territories and hierarchies and purposes that Ravindra's mountain-trained senses struggled to parse into coherent categories. Near processing facilities the air carried sharp metallic tang that coated tongue and made breathing feel like swallowing copper dust, while residential areas mixed wood smoke with cooking smells that ranged from appealing to nauseating depending on what was being prepared and how recently previous meal had been consumed. Everywhere underneath was smell of too many humans living too close together, sweat and waste and the particular odor of bodies that washed irregularly because water required effort to obtain and heat.

Ravindra walked main thoroughfare with practiced casualness that concealed heightened awareness of every detail, every person who glanced his direction, every conversation fragment that might contain useful information or warning of danger. His cover story about seeking uncle named Darius felt simultaneously too thin and perfectly adequate, depending on who asked and how carefully they listened to answer. Most people ignored him completely, child traveling alone being common enough in settlements near mountains where families sent children to relatives during hard winters or after parents died in accidents that were accepted cost of living in dangerous places. Those who noticed him at all offered brief nods or expressions that mixed sympathy with relief that this particular hard-luck child wasn't their responsibility.

He found processing facility's administrative building by following forge smoke to its source then asking worker who looked supervisory about where to find hiring manager, and received directions delivered with disinterest that suggested this was frequent enough request that novelty had worn off years ago. Building was larger than most in settlement but not impressive, stone foundation with wooden upper floor that had been repaired multiple times with whatever materials were available, resulting in patchwork appearance that spoke of pragmatism over aesthetics. Inside was single large room divided by wooden barriers into sections serving different administrative functions, with workers at crude desks shuffling papers and conducting business that seemed to involve lot of waiting and occasional bursts of activity when someone important needed attention.

"Help you?" asked woman at nearest desk without looking up from ledger she was reviewing, voice carrying tone that indicated helping him was obligation rather than desire and she'd prefer he state business quickly so she could return to more important work.

"Looking for work," Ravindra said, pitching voice to sound younger and more uncertain than he felt, playing up orphan-seeking-opportunity angle that Auratigris had coached him to emphasize. "Woodcutter up trail said to ask for supervisor named Darius about smelting crew positions. My uncle supposedly works here but I don't have recent information about whether that's still true or whether he'd even remember promising to help since letter was sent two years ago and lot can change in that time."

Woman finally looked up, evaluating him with glance that assessed age, physical condition, and probable truthfulness of story with efficiency that suggested she'd heard variations of this tale countless times. "Uncle's name?"

Ravindra had prepared for this question, had even discussed with Auratigris whether providing name was better than claiming not to know details, and they'd decided that giving common name that probably belonged to someone in valley created verisimilitude without committing to specific relationship that could be verified. "Mikhail. Probably goes by Mik. He worked in one of the mining operations up in peaks before moving down here about three years ago, at least that's what mother heard before she died last winter."

"We've got four Mikhails currently employed in various capacities," woman said, turning to different ledger and scanning entries with finger that suggested she knew layout well enough to find information quickly. "Three in mining operations, one in transport. None specifically in smelting crews which is where you'd be working if hired. That mean your uncle lied about position, or you're lying about uncle, or there's miscommunication somewhere in chain that brought you here?"

It was test, Ravindra recognized, not hostile but evaluative, seeing how he responded to challenge that questioned story without directly accusing him of deception. "Probably miscommunication," he answered with shrug that indicated acceptance of uncertainty without defensiveness. "Uncle wasn't educated man and mother wasn't either, lot of what passed between them was verbal messages carried by traders who simplified things to remember easier. If uncle said he worked with metal and message got translated to smelting when he actually meant mining metal, that's kind of miscommunication that happens when people don't write things down. Doesn't really matter to me which Mikhail he is or if he's even here anymore, I'm looking for work not family reunion. Uncle was backup plan in case I couldn't find employment on own merits."

Woman's expression shifted slightly, not quite smile but softening that suggested answer had passed test by acknowledging possibility of error without making excuses or becoming emotional. "Smart attitude. Most kids show up here expecting relatives to solve their problems, get upset when reality doesn't match expectations. You say you're willing to work smelting crews?"

"Willing to work whatever pays and doesn't require skills I don't have," Ravindra clarified. "I can handle physical labor, I'm stronger than I look and I learn fast, but I don't have experience with specialized trades that require apprenticeship. Smelting seemed like area where being able to tolerate heat and lift heavy things repeatedly might be more important than knowing technique that takes years to master."

"Accurate assessment," woman confirmed, making notation in ledger with pen that scratched across paper with sound that seemed loud in relative quiet of administrative space. "Smelting crews always need bodies because turnover is high, work is brutal and heat kills people who don't respect it. Pay is better than general labor but not by much, and you'll be working under supervision of people who won't care about your story or your circumstances, only about whether you do job without causing problems. You cause problems or fail to meet production quotas, you're done without warning or second chances. Understand?"

"Understood," Ravindra agreed, appreciating directness that didn't pretend employment was anything other than transaction where his labor was exchanged for minimal compensation and no loyalty existed either direction.

"You'll report to foreman named Grekov at dawn tomorrow, mention Svetlana sent you and he'll assign you to crew that needs bodies. We provide one meal during shift, you're responsible for finding own housing and food for other meals. Valley has boarding houses that rent by week, I suggest finding one tonight before you spend money on anything else because sleeping outside attracts attention from guards who assume you're either criminal or indigent, and either way they'll make you leave settlement or arrest you for vagrancy. Any questions?"

"How do I find boarding houses?" Ravindra asked, recognizing this was practical information he needed and asking demonstrated appropriate level of ignorance for someone unfamiliar with lowland settlements.

"Follow main road toward residential district, look for buildings with blue cloth hung outside, that's universal marker for places that rent rooms. Expect to pay three copper per week for shared room with multiple people, five for private if you can afford it. Most places want payment in advance and won't negotiate terms." Svetlana returned attention to her ledger, signaling conversation was concluded. "Show up on time tomorrow or don't bother showing up at all. Dismissed."

Ravindra left administrative building with sense of having successfully navigated first test but awareness that real challenges were still ahead. Getting hired was easy part, maintaining cover while working alongside people who'd have plenty of time to observe and question inconsistencies in his story was where careful preparation would be tested against reality of sustained deception. He followed Svetlana's directions toward residential district, noting layout of settlement with attention that appeared casual but was actually systematic mapping of locations and relationships that might prove important later.

Boarding house he chose was neither best nor worst of options he observed, middle-range establishment that suggested management cared enough to maintain basic standards but not so much that they'd scrutinize tenants carefully. Building was two-story wooden structure with stone foundation, probably housing twelve to fifteen people based on size and configuration of windows suggesting individual rooms rather than large shared spaces. Blue cloth hung beside entrance as advertised, and door was propped open in manner suggesting visitors were expected rather than requiring special permission to enter.

Inside was small common area with stairs leading to upper floor and doorway to what looked like kitchen where someone was preparing food that smelled of root vegetables and cheap meat, combination that was filling without being appetizing. Woman emerged from kitchen at sound of his entrance, evaluating him with look that was purely commercial, calculating whether he represented potential income or potential problem requiring refusal of service.

"Need room," Ravindra stated plainly, pulling three copper coins from pouch and holding them visible in palm. "Week's rent for shared accommodation, paid in advance."

"Shared rooms are on second floor, end of hall has four beds, currently housing two other occupants," woman said, taking coins and testing them with bite that checked for soft metal indicating forgeries. Satisfied they were genuine, she pocketed them and gestured toward stairs. "Meals aren't included in base rent but can be purchased for one copper per week if you want breakfast and dinner provided, lunch you handle yourself. House rules are no violence, no theft, no bringing work disputes into common areas, and quiet hours after sunset. Break rules and you're out immediately without refund."

"Understood," Ravindra confirmed, appreciating that rules were clear and enforcement was apparently straightforward rather than subject to interpretation or favoritism that would make navigating them more complicated.

"Last bed on left in shared room, store your belongings under bed in trunk that's already there, don't leave valuables unattended because I'm not responsible if roommates steal from you." Woman returned to kitchen, considering transaction complete and requiring no further social interaction.

Ravindra climbed stairs that creaked under weight in pattern suggesting which steps were most worn, filed information automatically as detail that might matter if he ever needed to move through building quietly. Shared room was exactly as described, simple space with four narrow beds arranged against walls, one window providing minimal natural light, and general atmosphere of place where people slept but didn't live. Two beds showed signs of current occupancy with personal belongings stored in trunks and blankets arranged with varying degrees of care. Third bed, the one designated as his, had basic bedding that looked clean if worn and trunk underneath that was empty except for accumulated dust.

He stored his minimal belongings in trunk, keeping only knife concealed at waist because having no weapon at all was foolish even if carrying obvious weapons would raise questions about why child needed to be armed. Then he returned downstairs and exited building to continue systematic exploration of settlement while evening light remained sufficient for observation.

Iron Valley's social structure became more apparent as he watched interactions play out across different areas. Near industrial facilities, workers moved with exhaustion that spoke of physical labor pushing limits of human endurance, but conversations he overheard suggested camaraderie that came from shared suffering rather than resentment toward employers. In residential areas, families demonstrated various degrees of prosperity indicated by building maintenance and clothing quality, with clear but not dramatic stratification between those doing relatively well and those barely surviving. Market area showed economic relationships where merchants haggled with customers over prices that mattered to buyers but seemed almost perfunctory to sellers who knew they'd make sales regardless because people needed goods being offered.

What struck Ravindra most was absence of overt oppression he'd expected based on Gregor's descriptions of twelve nations' systems. People weren't happy exactly, but neither were they miserable in ways suggesting systematic brutality or injustice so egregious that revolution seemed inevitable. They were surviving, getting by, making compromises that allowed them to endure conditions that weren't ideal but weren't intolerable, and that middle ground of manageable suffering was perhaps more insidious than obvious tyranny because it provided just enough hope that change seemed unnecessary even though improvement was clearly possible.

He understood then why Auratigris had insisted he observe rather than interfere. Problem wasn't that people were being crushed under heel of obvious oppression requiring only removal of oppressor to fix everything. Problem was that system had evolved to distribute suffering efficiently enough that no single point of intervention would cascade into meaningful change, and attempting to inspire rebellion by pointing out injustices would likely result in being seen as troublemaker rather than liberator because most people had adapted to their circumstances and didn't want risk of change that might make things worse.

That night in boarding house, Ravindra lay in narrow bed listening to sounds of settlement transitioning from day to night activities, processing observations and comparing reality against expectations that had been shaped by limited information and perhaps overly simplified understanding of how power operated at ground level. His roommates returned after he'd already settled in, two young men who looked to be late teens or early twenties, exhausted from day's work and showing no interest in new arrival beyond brief acknowledgment of his presence. They collapsed into beds without conversation, fell asleep within minutes, and began snoring with sounds that would have been comedic if not so clearly indicating exhaustion beyond what healthy humans should regularly experience.

Morning came too early, marked by boarding house owner banging on doors to wake residents who needed to report to work at dawn. Ravindra rose with others, declined offered breakfast because he'd paid only for room not meals, and made his way through settlement streets already filling with workers moving toward various employment sites with shuffle that spoke of people going through motions because alternative was starvation not because labor provided any satisfaction or hope of advancement.

Processing facility's smelting area was exactly as brutal as Svetlana had implied without exaggeration. Heat from furnaces was overwhelming even standing at edge of work floor, and Ravindra understood immediately why turnover was high and why management didn't care about worker circumstances. This was employment that used bodies until they broke, replaced them with new bodies that would also eventually break, and continued that cycle without concern because supply of desperate people needing any work at all exceeded demand for workers capable of surviving conditions.

Foreman Grekov was massive man with burns scarring much of visible skin, voice roughened by years inhaling forge smoke, and eyes that evaluated Ravindra with look suggesting he'd seen countless children show up claiming they could handle work and knew exactly how many would last through first day versus first week versus first month. "Svetlana sent you?" he asked without preamble or greeting.

"Yes sir," Ravindra confirmed, adding respectful address because he recognized this man held power over his immediate circumstances and antagonizing him gained nothing.

"You look young even for smelting crew standards, which are already lower than most operations because we take whoever shows up and deal with problems after they prove unable to handle work rather than wasting time on careful screening." Grekov moved closer, studying Ravindra with attention that assessed not just physical size but something less tangible about presence or bearing. "But you don't move like scared kid desperate for work, you move like someone evaluating me the same way I'm evaluating you, and that's unusual enough to be interesting. You running from something or toward something?"

It was good question, one that demonstrated Grekov was more perceptive than appearance suggested, and Ravindra made decision in moment to provide answer that was true enough to satisfy scrutiny while maintaining essential cover. "Running from place where I'd die if I stayed because resources weren't sufficient for population, toward place where surviving might be possible if I work hard enough. Not running from crime or family dispute or anything that would bring trouble to your operation, just trying to find space in world that has more spaces than what's available in mountains during winter."

Grekov nodded slowly, apparently satisfied with answer that acknowledged hard realities without making excuses or expecting sympathy. "Fair enough. You'll work hauling crew, moving raw materials from storage to furnaces and moving slag from furnaces to disposal. It's hottest position in operation and hardest on body, which is why we assign it to newest workers who haven't yet proven they can handle more skilled tasks. You survive hauling for month without collapsing or causing accidents, you get evaluated for potential promotion to furnace operation which is still brutal but slightly less likely to kill you. Questions?"

"How much weight am I expected to haul per trip and how many trips per shift?" Ravindra asked, wanting concrete information about whether physical demands were something he could actually meet given that his mountain-trained strength might not translate directly to sustained labor of different type.

"Bags are forty pounds each, you'll haul eight to twelve per hour depending on production demands, shift is ten hours. Do the math." Grekov gestured toward work floor where crews were already operating in organized chaos of movement and heat and noise that seemed designed to overwhelm senses. "Start now, work until midday meal break, resume after break, work until shift ends at dusk. Pay is distributed weekly, five copper for full week assuming you meet quotas without causing problems. Welcome to Iron Valley's contribution to the twelve nations' insatiable appetite for processed metal."

And with that brief orientation, Ravindra began his first day of labor in world that had tried to kill him, working alongside people who had no idea that child hauling slag beside them was planning to eventually dismantle the entire system they'd learned to survive within.