The others stood without comment and followed the big pirate out the door.
When they passed through the ruined wall into what was once Eheene proper the next morning, Syrina finally stripped off the skin of the refugee girl and glided parallel to the others out of the Foreigner’s District.
No, it reminded her. Not the Foreigner’s District. New Eheene.
Syrina pressed her lips together, but didn’t respond. It was strange to think in a few decades most people wouldn’t even know what the Foreigner’s District had been. Just another story about the old city of Eheene and its wondrous wealth. She wondered if anyone would remember all the backstabbing, nepotism, and corruption. Probably not. As long as some vestige of the Syndicate was around to warp the narrative, Eheene would be a false memor
