In the Village of Exile
A day passed.
The vibe was the sa as Seven’s first visit: gloomy.
Instead of a village, it was more like a collection of buildings that clung to the edge of a valley and was nestled between broken hills and sparse woodland called the ’Umbral Forest’.
Again, it was a place people ended up in, not a place they sought out.
Step.
Seven adjusted his collar as he walked through the pathway mixed with snow and dirt.
A few villagers loitered nearby— n with patchy beards and none of them recognized him even though this was the second ti he visited.
It was expected, as again, rcenaries co and go here.
"The fudge?"
He cursed as he glanced at Lythian behind who followed him and was still carrying a shovel on his shoulder.
"What are you doing?"
"To dig your grave, fucker."
Seven did not respond. Instead, he gestured to a weapons stall a few paces ahead.
"Could get five zevi for it."
"Fucker, I’m not selling—"
"Maybe ten."
Step.
Lythian imdiately stomped up to the stall and dropped the shovel, nearly knocking over a rack of short swords.
"Fu— Hey. Buy this."
The rchant blinked.
"Buy... what?"
"The damn shovel. It’s tal, fucker. Already buried seven bodies."
"S-Seven b-bodies...? Sorry, I... I don’t usually deal in tools—"
"Ten Zevi."
The rchant gave him a long, confused look as he remained silent.
Step.
"You’re scaring him."
Seven stepped in and handled the conversation. He explained that both of them ran away from the Virem village and were chased by wolves and lost their belonging whilst this shovel was the only one they both managed to salvage.
It was all a lie.
He weighed the probabilities and it had fifty percent to work, given that even the rchant was trying his best to stop his tears.
But.
"Sorry, but I... I really don’t deal with—"
Step.
Before the rchant could finish, he walked away and did not bother to look back. Embarrassed.
Lythian cursed at him as he grabbed the shovel and rushed after him.
Step.
He passed by the stall where he got the jar of pills from, only to see an empty stall where there was no longer an old granny pounding herbs.
Step.
Nonetheless, he walked forward.
Ahead, a two-story building leaned awkwardly to one side as a wooden sign [rcenary Hall] swung overhead that creaked on rusted chains.
The door gave a long groan as he entered and the eyes of the few occupants inside quickly turned to look at him.
The main hall was dim, lit only by the gray morning light filtering through grimy windows and a few half-lted candles that sat on high wall sconces.
A long wooden counter split the room in two, and behind which sat a man in a tattered vest who was sorting through parchnt and dull tal tags.
Step.
Lythian entered behind him, and imdiately glanced at the calendar pinned right beside the door where the 26th day of Nocten was circled.
"Fuck."
Lythian cursed.
He believed that he was given a chance to be the protagonist of a random novel, but was imdiately imprisoned and failed to register to the Academy given that the examinations were probably over now.
Now, he even beca a slave of a no-na character he failed to assassinate.
Thus being a rcenary does not sound that bad, and he could just enroll next sester, which was three months away.
Step.
Lythian walked towards the desk.
He had read his share of novels about rcenaries so this much was not new to him as all he needed was to register his identity.
Seven, on the other hand, did not approach the desk imdiately.
He took the room in first.
A few benches lined the walls and most of them were empty.
Two n lounged in the farthest corner. One had a mop of gray hair that had not seen a comb in years; the other wore a patched jacket two sizes too big, laughing at nothing in particular
He sat at the table next to them.
"The Knights of Hart— hic— passed through the southern checkpoint just this mornin’."
The gray-haired one said as he jabbed a finger.
"Shiny armor and pissy looks. Didn’t even— hic— wipe the mud off their boots."
"Told ya t’is would happen!"
The man in the big jacket exclaid.
"One of ’em had a sketch showin’ it ’round like he lost his dog. Said, ’Have ya seen these two n?’ Bah!"
"Maybe it’s two o’ them knights bastards gone rogue. They were sniffin’ ’round here too. Ask’n for... missing— hic— knights. "
"Bah! Let ’em sniff. Ain’t nothin’ here but broken roofs and broke rcs."
The two broke into wheezing laughter whilst Seven, on the other hand, frowned.
’Missing knights...’
It was what he understood from the slurred words of those two drunk n behind him, which ans...
’...The knights of the twins?’
Creak.
Just as he thought about it, the door creaked open and three knights with the crest of the Hart entered. They walked straight towards the desk counter.
Seven kept his head down.
The clerk at the desk stood a little straighter.
"Be at ease. We’re only here to inquire whether you’ve seen two of our order as of late."
One of the knights said.
He pulled a folded sheet from a leather satchel and laid it flat on the counter.
"Kindly cross-reference with this."
The clerk gave a slow shake of his head.
"Can’t say I have. Sorry."
"Then we thank you for your ti. Apologies for the intrusion."
The knight nodded.
As the knights turned from the counter, the two drunk rcenaries turned their hazy attention toward Seven.
"Hey, ch— hic— child."
The gray-haired slurred as he pointed at him with a half-empty mug.
"Ya’ got noble blood or sothin’? Ya’ looks like one of those fan— hic— fancy brats."
Seven did not answer and just kept his head down with eyes on the floor.
Even with his different colored hair, he knew the blood in his bones was not easy to hide. And if the knights got a good look, they might ask questions he could not afford to answer.
One of the knights paused as he catched the shift in atmosphere. His gaze followed the drunk man’s finger and narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked in Seven’s direction.
Step.
The drunk man started to walk towards Seven. The rcenary in the big jacket tried to stop him, but he did not budge.
"Ya he’r , child? Let take a— hic— look at ya!"
Step.
So did that knight.
Even if they were here to find the two missing knights as Atreus ordered, they can still not just ignore a child with a frail body to be harassed by a drunk rcenary.
"...Fudge."
Seven cursed under his breath.
But before the knights or the drunk rcenary could reach him, Lythian arrived back from the counter.
"Oi! Back off."
Lythian moved between Seven and the rest and rested a casual arm around his shoulder whilst still holding the shovel with another hand.
He shot a lopsided grin at the drunk rcenary.
"Fuck off. That’s my brother you’re lookin’ at."
There was an awkward pause.
The knights exchanged a brief glance until one of them gave a curt nod and just walked towards the drunk rcenary instead.
Step.
"You owe one, fucker."
Lythian whispered as he walked towards the exit, stuffing a brown tal tag.
Step.
"Fudger."
Seven responded, as he too walked out the building.
"I could’ve handled that myself."
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