Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [179]
Now that he mentioned it, Wataru realized it was true.
“I’m the only ankha living on this road, in fact,” Toni spat. “The nonankha make up less than a quarter of Lyris’s total population. There were more in the past, but they got angry at their unfair treatment here, and left. Of course, that was only the young, or those with a place to go, or artisans with talent. There are many more that couldn’t leave. Those who have stayed behind have assembled here along Bricklayer Street in the narrow slums—packed in like livestock. Go for a walk on the other roads and you’ll notice the difference right away. There are great mansions and roomy stores, all owned by ankha. Every morning the non-ankha leave their cramped, inconvenient, dusty shacks for their dreary jobs. Of course, nobody can get any decent work around here. There are no permanent positions for anyone but ankha in Lyris. So of course the non-ankha are all poor.”
“It’s a vicious cycle,” Elza said, bitterly.
“Does this prejudice against non-ankha have anything to do with faith in the Old God?” Wataru asked. Elza and Toni looked at each other.
“What do you know about the Old God?” They all looked at him.
“Um…Kee Keema told me about him.”
All eyes turned to the waterkin who quickly repeated the explanation he had given Wataru.
“So there’s some even in Gasara then.”
“Yes, but nothing is all that clear in Gasara. Everyone is wary of the Old God believers. We don’t trust anything that has something to do with the Northern Empire.”
Elza nodded. “Sometimes I fear that we’ve become like the Empire, detaining non-ankha just because of their race, and even killing them. Of course, it’s on a smaller scale, but the things that are happening are the same…”
“I can’t discount the influence of this belief in the Old God, but Lyris has never provided a warm welcome for non-ankha. I can’t figure out what the cause might have been. The first settlers came here one hundred and fifty years ago, and just like settlers elsewhere, they were of mixed races,” Toni told them. “Things only changed when the mines were discovered in the mountains around the city. To reach the mines, you have to dig deep into the ground. The beastkin, with their strong bodies and constitutions, were perfect for the job. At the same time, the nimble-fingered ankha were the best at crafting the stones they unearthed. That’s how the division of labor came about.”
“And Lyris became a crafting town,” Meena said. “What happened to the mines? Are there non-ankha—beastkin—working there still?”
Toni shook his head. “The veins were depleted about eighty years after their discovery, and the mines closed. They weren’t that large to begin with, really. Now and again somebody will find a fragment of precious metal, or gem, but nothing in salable amounts. Most of the jewels that are fashioned in Lyris now are imported from Arikita.”
Of Lyris’s past, only the ankha rule remained.
“So these jewels from Arikita…the shipping guild brings them in?” Kee Keema asked.
“That’s right. Of course, the guild is just as prejudiced as the rest of town. They would never let a waterkin darbaba driver set foot in our borders.”
“It’s not just us waterkin you know, there are some ankha drivers as well…” Kee Keema said, then snorted. “I see how it is, anyway. I always thought the guild monopoly on shipping to Lyris was a little odd.”
“Not many people from the outside know what it’s like here in Lyris,” Elza said, sadly hanging her head. Her long black hair flowed down one shoulder. “Only ankha are interested in learning our craft.