The last bandit crumpled to the grimy cobblestones. A whim stayed Lacerta's hand from finishing the job. He decided let the man live instead.
Grabbing the bandit leader by the arm, he began hauling the unconscious weight back through the alley. The scuff of boots on stone was the only sound until a voice behind cut through the darkness.
???: ["Hey, wait—!"]
Lacerta froze. A girl with brightly colored pink hair skidded to a halt before him, jabbing an accusatory finger toward his face. He simply raised a brow.
???: ["You just saved my life, aren't you going to ask for something like a reward?"]
Lacerta: ["…No, It was a whim after all. I don't need anything. Just try not to get cornered like that again if possible, I guess. It would mean me saving you actually mattered after all."]
Yes. If something like this happened to her again without him being there to save her, it would've made what he'd done here all for naught.
He turned to leave, the thought of soldiers and their inevitable questions, and most likely a lecture from Glenn already a dull headache behind his eyes.
This time, her voice, now laced with a different, somewhat more serious tone, stopped him again.
???: ["Then… how about a selfish request from me?"]
With a weary breath, Lacerta glanced back over his shoulder. Upon seeing that he was willing to listen, she placed her hand against her chest, eyes wide with theatrical purpose.
Althea: ["My name…. is Althea Velin. I have been searching for someone with your strength. So please, hear my request—"]
———————————————————
The unnatural quiet was the first violation. Where the afternoon bustle of Guaral should have been, there was only an unnerving silence, broken by the whisper of a breeze through the shattered streets.
Splintered timbers from the noble carriage lay strewn across the cobblestone—The air, thick with the familiar stench of blood that lingered with such intensity that it clung to the back of the throats of anyone in the vicinity.
Then came the sound. Not the sound of battle, but the frantic clanging of armored feet pounding against the cobblestone floor, growing louder with each heartbeat.
A squad of city guards rounded the corner, their advance halting abruptly at the scene of death.
Some of them winced at the scene—The captain, his face a grim look, took in the dozen or so bodies aimlessly scattered around the street—the mix of uniformed guards and leather-clad bandits was not exactly an uncommon sight for Vollachian soldiers.
What was though? The level of brutality behind it. Of course, it wasn't unlike anything they had ever seen, but it could be considered so considering that it happened within the Fortress City of Guaral.
Guaral Captain: ["What in the name of——an attack this brazen… within the city?"]
In an instant, he swung a gauntleted hand toward his men behind, gritting his teeth with anger as he did so.
Guaral Captain: ["Spread out! Comb the alleys! Find the butchers who—"]
Lacerta: ["...That won't be necessary."]
The voice, uncannily calm considering the hellish scene, sliced through the captain's orders and all movement instantly ceased. A repertoire of steel being pulled free from scabbards was the only sound as they leveled at the source.
Lacerta approached the scene despite the threat toward him and immediately hoisted the unconscious form of the bandit leader to the feet of the captain.
The captain's eyes narrowed at the sight, his sword tip unwavering.
Guaral Captain: ["…And you are?"]
Lacerta: ["…The solution to this whole mess, obviously?"]
Lacerta said factually, shrugging before pointing toward the unconscious bandit leader before them.
Lacerta: ["That's the main guy who performed this whole attack... I left him for you guys—the rest were… less fortunate."]
A tense silence stretched. The captain was not foolish enough to be ignorant due to age; the lone child, as peculiar as it might seem, standing unscathed amidst after dragging around the body of a grown man was absolutely a possible suspect.
And.... this was Vollachia. Children with monstrous levels of power aren't unheard of, simply rare.
Guaral Captain: ["Is that so? While we do appreciate the assistance... just as a precaution, you'll be coming with us. Once your story is verified, you will be compensated for your service."]
Althea: ["—You'll be doing no such thing."]
The new voice carried an authority that made the captain raise a brow.
A young woman, Althea, stepped alongside the black-haired boy, cleaning a non-existent speck of dust from her immaculate outfit as she did so. Her pink hair seemed to glow against the grim backdrop of decapitated and mangled bandit bodies.
Lacerta blinked. The look of indifference on his face finally fractured, replaced by a flicker of confusion. Althea fixed the captain with a gaze that was both serene and utterly commanding, a stark difference to her childish look before.
Althea: ["This boy Lacerta, is my personal escort. His actions, and his alone, are the reason I am still here… to detain him is an insult to my House. To my father especially…"]
Althea: ["—Are you prepared to publicly dishonor the name Velin, Captain?"]
The guards exchanged uneasy glances towards one another. The Velin name was fairly well known around Guaral after all.
The captain's jaw reflexively tightened while he mentally pondered the right decision to make—eventually, he lowered his sword, the motion being matched by the other soldiers.
Guaral Captain: ["—My.... deepest apologies, Lady Althea. We were unaware… of course, you and your… escort… are free to go. We will handle the cleanup here."]
Althea gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Althea: ["Heh, see that you do~"]
She turned without another word, her stride confident as she walked away from the carnage. Lacerta fell into step beside her, casting one last glance over his shoulder at the guards beginning their grim work.
The mask she wore in front of the guards had been flawless. Was that the real Althea, or was the childish girl in the carriage the truth? Lacerta was, in all honesty, stumped in figuring that out.
Lacerta: ["You definitely have a talent for lying and acting."]
A genuine, melodic laugh escaped her.
Althea: ["Doesn't every noble?"]
Do they? Lacerta didn't really know how true that was, though after seeing her, he felt somewhat inclined to believe it.
They turned a corner, leaving the sounds of the massacre behind.
Lacerta: ["You shouldn't have interfered either way… my innocence was only a matter of time. Your involvement only drew attention."]
Althea's headshake was barely perceptible, a swift dismissal of Lacerta's words.
Althea: ["Time is a weapon if used correctly, little escort. I merely chose not to hand it to our enemies."]
A wood wagon, laden with barrels, drove past, its passage close by stirring up the dust at her shoes. On the far side of the road a lone carriage sat in wait with an older looking man gripping the reigns to the beast which he still annoyingly enough, doesn't know the name of—
Althea reached the carriage, and she immediately gestured to the driver.
Althea: ["A ride to the Velin Estate will do nicely, make it fast."]
A silver coin appeared between her fingers before she pressed it into the drivers waiting hand. He closed his fist around it, the transaction sealed without a word. A slight nod was his acceptance before the driver opened the carriage door to the pair.
Althea gestured for Lacerta to enter, then followed, settling onto the plush seat.
The door closed, shutting out the world and encasing the pair in silence. As the carriage started to move, Lacerta averted his gaze toward the window to his side.
It was the first time he'd ever properly seen his face since losing his memories. He looked to be around thirteen years old with black hair and dark purple eyes, likely a rare combination in Vollachia considering how Lacerta has never seen another person with black hair yet.
Shifting his gaze back toward Althea, he speaks once more.
Lacerta: ["I see. So if we are so pressed for time, why are we going to your family estate, exactly?"]
Althea chuckled, a soft, conspiratorial sound. She leaned forward slightly, a single wave of pink hair falling across her shoulder.
Althea: ["Hehe.... to introduce my father to the man who just saved his daughter's life, of course~!"]
Lacerta: ["???"]
———————————————————————————————————
The slow, rhythmic rumble of the carriage was a welcoming reprieve from the grueling trek that was venturing the Buddheim Jungle. Even so, a thought nagged at the edge of his consciousness—the shadow of something important, forgotten.
Hmmm.... it's probably nothing.
The three-hour ride northwest from the fortress city had been an education for Lacerta. He'd learned that within this kingdom, nobles—the wealthy and powerful—were categorized into three distinct ranks: Low, Mid, and High Grade. Formally, they were known as Counts or Countesses of their respective levels.
This was important because he was now on a job for one of them. The Velin Family, he'd been told, were Mid Grade nobles.
Firmly middle of the road, as far as nobility went. But what did that truly mean? Did a "Mid Grade" title grant someone the power to simply wave away the city guard? The memory of Althea's intervention—her calm words halting the armored men in their tracks—was still fresh.
His curiosity getting the better of him, Lacerta finally broke the silence.
Lacerta: ["If being a mid-grade noble family grants you the power to sway guards then what's really stopping you from just doing as you please?"]
His question was met with a thoughtful look from Althea.
Althea: ["Ah, so you think it's unusual hmmmm? I suppose I can see why. Alright then, let's just say... the Velin Family often cleans up the empire's filth. And.... it was probably why I was put into that situation in the first place as well.."]
Though her final words were a mere murmur, but Lacerta caught them, along with the peculiar expression that settled on her face.
He didn't challenge nor question the look, turning instead to face his own reflection in the dark glass.
Lacerta: ["You already know why I'm helping you... So don't forget it."]
His words jolted Althea from her thoughts and the haze in her eyes cleared, replaced by a knowing, almost predatory smile that didn't quite reach them. Her gaze too, drifted away opting to trace the patterns on the wooden floor.
Althea: ["Oh, rest assured... I would much rather not be on the wrong side of a boy with your... capacity for growth."]