"Get out of my way." Inietta's irritation simmered beneath the surface as an unfamiliar figure abruptly became an uninvited companion on their journey.
"I won't allow the children to travel alone," he quipped with a hint of humour.
Inietta's hand whipped through the air like a vengeful whip, leaving behind a trail of tiny, stinging wounds upon Alfred's face and right hand. Each cut seemed to carve deeper into the fabric of their enmity. With a glare sharp as daggers, she spat out her words, "Understand?"
"Without a doubt, Milady."
Inietta appeared unfazed by how he addressed her.
After a while, the forest began to thin out ahead, drawing closer and closer to an end. The horse, once again, raised its front legs and came to a halt. The vast expanse of rice paddy fields stretched before them, swaying in the wind, adorned by the red hues of the setting sun.
Village settlements came into view in the distance. Thanks to the rising contour of the land, the village seemed slightly elevated, resembling a small hill, beautifully balanced against the picturesque landscape.
They decided to rest at the forest's edge as darkness descended, creating a bonfire for warmth and light. "I thought you would rest in the village," Alfred inquired.
"Shut up," Inietta snapped, her tone cutting through the air like a blade.
After glancing at Inietta, Alfred remarked casually, "It's alright. I reckon even the villagers would be spooked if they caught sight of me."
Tobias lay sound asleep, not far from the crackling fire. Alfred sat, leaning against a tree at a distance, and finally, his voice broke the silence of the night.
"If you want to know, maybe it's hope." Alfred's gaze fixed on the crackling campfire, its flickering flames casting dancing shadows. "A glimmer of hope," he murmured, "to rediscover something forgotten, lost to time."
"We've got nothing to do with your delusions," Inietta stated firmly. She was seated beside the campfire, her arms folded, as she addressed Alfred's presence and intentions.
"Yes, yes, Milady. There's nothing wrong with that, right?" Alfred retorted, seemingly unbothered. The night resumed its tranquillity, with only the crackling of burning wood breaking the silence.
Alfred noticed Tobias' sleeping state, recalling the sorrow etched on Tobias' face. "Listen, I'm here to assist, even if it ain't much," he told Inietta, his tone serious.
Inietta's alertness heightened as she perceived movement. "Someone is coming," she announced, her senses attuned to the approaching presence. The night seemed to hold its breath as they awaited the arrival of the unknown visitor.
Alfred's grip on his spear remained firm as the shadow revealed itself to be an old man, appearing to be a villager from the nearby settlement. The man approached with a friendly demeanour, "Excuse me—" he began politely, "Sorry to bother you. It's cold out here. How about you stay in the village instead?"
Inietta and Alfred exchanged glances, cautiously considering the offer. The old man's words promised warmth and shelter, but they also knew that their appearances might unsettle the villagers.
Alfred stepped forward, approached the old man, and posed a question, "Don't you recognise me?"
The old man blinked and shook his head, responding politely, "Excuse me, No, sir. Have we met?"
Alfred's suspicions were confirmed. He realised that he had not been recognised, and this knowledge eased some of the tension in the air.
They strolled through the village, passing by several silent houses whose residents were fast asleep. Alfred carried Tobias, who had dozed off during the walk. "Earlier, I noticed a distant fire. Luckily, it didn't turn out to be a forest fire or anything," he remarked.
As they reached a house, Inietta guided the two horses and tied them up in a small stable at the rear. The old man unlatched the front door, revealing a tidy, vacant interior. "It's a rare occurrence for travellers to pass through our village, so the special house we offer them is hardly ever used," he explained.
Inside, the old man gestured, "Feel free to make use of this house for as long as you need."
Once the old man departed, Inietta remarked, "He is so kind." Alfred, gently laying Tobias on the bed, responded, "Villagers are naturally friendly; they're accustomed to looking out for one another. I didn't anticipate that he wouldn't recognise me."
With his spear now propped against the wall, Alfred settled into a chair in the same room as the slumbering Tobias. He rested his arms, closed his eyes, and took a moment to relax.
As Inietta made her way towards the door, Alfred's voice halted her steps. "Hey," he called out, prompting her to pause. After a brief silence, he spoke again, "Never mind." The door finally closed, enveloping the room in serenity.
A large round wooden tub filled with warm water had been prepared.
Inietta slowly removed her numerous garments, one by one. Her body was entirely wrapped in bandages, and as she began to unwrap them, her hands came into view—marred with a mosaic of dark, red, and light patches of skin. Her arms bore the cruel evidence of burn marks, leaving her skin uneven and adorned with scars. Even her back exhibited the remnants of painful burns. Not a single strand of hair adorned her head.
The process of removing the bandages was painstakingly slow, as some wounds still hadn't healed. Inietta's body was a canvas of burns, leaving an indelible and enigmatic impression. To protect her unhealed injuries, she often enshrouded them with a layer of mana, especially during rain and showers, shielding them from any moisture that could exacerbate her pain.
Inietta's hand reached into her pocket, retrieving the crystal necklace that Bell had given her. Despite her chapped lips, a fleeting smile graced her face as she held the precious gift close, clutching it tightly with both hands to ensure it wouldn't slip away. "My Lord," she murmured, her affection for the necklace evident in her eyes.
Inietta's feet, bearing the marks of burns, moved with caution and tenderness as she stepped into the water-filled wooden tub. The layers of cloth she habitually wore made the warmth of the water intense for her. Yet, as she immersed herself, a sigh of relief escaped her lips, audibly expressing her comfort in the soothing pool.
With one eye closed due to burns, Inietta gazed at the pile of worn, shabby, and now damp bandages. Recollections flooded her mind: the rain pelting down as she gazed upon the sprawling city of Antemur that night, and the swift, intense clash with Ephi flashed by in her memory.
In truth, Inietta disliked revealing her skin to others. This was why she constantly concealed it beneath layers of bandages and clothing. It also prevented people from becoming unsettled in her presence.
"Haudensaun, a massive city even larger than Antemur. I can't recall who the Eleventine liaison is in that city," Inietta mumbled as she submerged herself in the warm water.
After finishing, she retrieved a petite box, unveiling within it a neatly rolled length of pristine white cloth. Inietta opted to re-bandage only her hands, feet, and head, as these were the visible areas even under her clothing. Although the process took a considerable amount of time due to her meticulous care, she also ensured that her body was thoroughly cleansed. The effort was not in vain, as the outcome left her feeling refreshed and enveloped in a delicate fragrance.
Inietta entered Tobias' room, only to find Alfred sound asleep in the same chair. Despite his slumber, she proceeded to check the room curiously. Her attention was drawn to Tobias' bag, but she knew it likely contained the Rod's Miner of Lasogon relic card. Aware of the potential impact of the card, she decided against touching it and swiftly left the room.
Inietta retreated from the room with silent steps, heading back to her quarters to find some rest.
As the sun began to rise, the villagers formed a procession, shouldering their tools and making their way to the rice fields. Inietta stood outside the house, positioned ahead with the two horses, prepared for departure. From within the house, Alfred emerged, bearing Tobias on his shoulders.
A bag belonging to Tobias was tossed to Inietta. Alfred carefully placed Tobias onto one of the horses. Tobias's countenance remained as vacant and lifeless as before.
They mounted their horses and set off at a gallop. However, after covering only a short distance, Alfred's progress was halted by the village leader. The old man appeared to be offering them a small basket of fruit with a smile. With a slightly uncertain expression, Alfred accepted the gesture, took the basket, and then resumed his position on his horse.
Alfred caught up with Inietta and Tobias. "It might be simpler if you two hold this basket. Make sure Tobias carries it," Alfred suggested. Their horses' pace momentarily eased, allowing Inietta to take the basket. "I figured you were trying to avoid him," she commented. Alfred urged his horse forward. "If only he remembered that I'm the bandit who once robbed him," he remarked wryly.
Before them stood a wall that dwarfed even the imposing one in Antemur; unlike its counterpart, the guards stationed here seemed to take a more relaxed approach, waving people and carts through without the meticulous scrutiny that often led to long queues. This efficient entry process allowed them to glide into the city seamlessly.
As they ventured further, the initial view of Haudensaun City appeared strangely reminiscent of Antemur. The bustling main road, divided into two lanes, bustled with a river of pedestrians, injecting life into the city's veins.
However, once they began to traverse deeper, the architectural identity of Haudensaun began to unfurl before their eyes. A striking contrast emerged: while Antemur bore the weight of stone and brick, Haudensaun embraced the grace of wood. The houses and structures that populated the city were fashioned from this versatile material. The roofs, unlike the uniform flatness of Antemur, adopted a picturesque slope. Each structure seemed to play a part in a harmonious symphony of hues - dark brown, rich reds, and pristine whites - contributing to a vivid, multi-toned canvas that shattered any hint of monotony.
"Did you sell it?" Alfred inquired of Inietta, and at that moment, it became apparent that someone else was leading their two horses elsewhere. "I bought it from you folks and then resold it. What's the harm?" Alfred answered. I assumed we'd be thieving or something. That would've been more straightforward," Alfred mused. "I'm not you," Inietta retorted dryly.
Inietta laid silver coins on the reception table. "Two rooms for us," she requested, then promptly headed upstairs. Alfred, following closely, paused momentarily to ask the innkeeper, "The key?" The innkeeper promptly handed him the key.
Upon reaching the upper floor and wandering about, Alfred arrived at an open door, revealing Inietta already reclining on her bed. "Are you sure this is the right room?" he inquired. Inietta responded, "There are only two rooms left in this inn. Yours is next door."
Using the key, Alfred unlocked the door, gently laying the sleeping Tobias onto the bed. He positioned his spear in a corner of the room. As he exited and headed towards Inietta's room through the still-open door, he tossed her a key and stated, "By the way, what does he look like?"
"Your aims and hopes are nothing more than delusions. It would be wise to abandon them and steer clear," Inietta stated coldly, her intention to decline apparent. No one would readily trust a stranger who abruptly joined their journey.
"Yeah, sure thing, Milady," Alfred replied, folding his arms and leaning against the door frame. "Look, I'm just a former assassin who's currently out of the game. Let me try to do some good amidst all this bloodshed," he remarked.
"I embody the reaper of assassins. Should your trust falter, rest assured I could embark on a grim quest, erasing all those who hold significance in your world. I've no desire for anything from a figure such as yourself," Inietta's words dripped with icy resolve.
Alfred's voice retorted, tinged with a touch of resignation, "Very well, have it your way. The souls who once held meaning in my existence have long faded. Their lives fell victim to the treacherous currents of noble family feuds, leaving me as the harbinger of their end."
The room hung in a suspended hush for a brief span, a momentary pause accentuated by the playful dance of the wind against the shutters. Then, like a sudden ember igniting the darkness, Inietta's voice surged forth, "As tall as me, her hair a vivid shade of green. Pointed ears that are rarely glimpsed."
"Alright, count on it. I'll be back," Alfred said with determination before making his way out. The reverberation of his footsteps descending the staircase echoed through Inietta's room. "He's merely disrupting my focus. Where has my mana radar vanished to?" Inietta mused to herself.
Emerging from the inn's entrance, Alfred swiftly homed in on a passing pedestrian, his purpose evident in his brisk stride. Engaging the man in conversation, his words appeared to be a query. The man's arm extended, indicating a specific direction, and a flash of gratitude crossed Alfred's face before he set off with renewed determination in the path pointed out.
As Alfred meandered through the bustling streets, the pulse of life echoed from every corner. Street vendors animatedly haggled, their offerings spanning from vibrant textiles to glistening produce. Children dashed along cobbled alleys, their laughter harmonising into a chorus of youthful joy.
At the heart of the city's rhythm was the bustling marketplace, a whirlwind of colours and sounds. The air was fragrant with exotic spices, wafting from stalls that displayed a cornucopia of scents. Master artisans showcased intricate woodwork, and their creations are a testament to the legacy of craftsmanship passed through generations. Taverns resonated with animated conversation, tales of far-off lands, and hearty laughter, patrons forging bonds over shared mugs of ale.
Houses displayed hues of deep browns, rich reds, and pristine whites, a living tapestry that defied monotony. The sun played with light and shadow as it danced between buildings, conjuring an enchanting interplay that lent the city streets an air of magic.
Within these labyrinthine passages, lives converged - the dreamers chasing aspirations, the resilient labourers toiling for kin, scholars seeking enlightenment in the city's libraries, and adventurers weaving tales of distant realms. Haudensaun's atmosphere was a symphony of existence, a rich tapestry woven from countless threads, each contributing its unique hue to the vibrant tableau of life.
Following the narrower path, Alfred continued until a wooden sign caught his eye, its depiction of a generous pint of beer invitingly displayed. The emblem spoke of a cosy tavern nestled in the heart of the city. Without hesitation, he pushed open the double doors and stepped inside.