A melancholic melody echoed from faraway, barely noticeable from where Lieren sat—just a simple swing hanging from a branch of a leafless tree, swinging back and forth.
Lieren wore a black suit that wore him instead of the other way around. A slightly mournful look could be seen etched onto his facial features, like he was about to cry. He gazed far, where a couple of people, all dressed in black, gathered on one side where a man—aging, Lieren noticed, wearing a white robe, stood while holding a book, muttering something.
There was a rectangular box, half open, behind the aging man. Lieren recognized none of the people gathered.
"Why am I here?" He asked to the wind, not expecting an answer.
The wind responded. "To mourn."
Lieren got up, and began walking down the hill. A scarlet-haired woman followed by his side, donning a black, tight-fitting suit. She put a hand on Lieren's shoulder, her face impassive.
Lieren stayed silent for a while, his mind empty and alone. There was nothing to say, but he still had to say something, do something, decide on the next path to take. Eventually, he spoke, not having made any decisions except for the words a out to be said.
"…What now?" He asked the wind—the scarlet-haired woman, Hana Kronesta, Lieren remembered, spared a glance his way, then looked ahead once again. She was really good at that.
"Now?" She responded. "Now, you go home—to your family." Lieren recognized the sorrow in her words, feeling a bit of the sadness that it contained. "I've—well, the logistics department found a suitable couple willing to become your foster parents. It's a month by carriage, so it's going to be a long ride." She cast a meaningful glance at Lieren. "But you're strong, so you should be able to endure. Of course, the Knight's Order will send somebody to accompany you to make sure that you arrive safely. The fact that you're still alive might attract the Marionette, but I highly doubt it. He wouldn't do something like that."
"She…" Lieren corrected, and Kronesta just shrugged. "The Marionette is a woman. The woman who took my friend." Lieren sounded furious, confused, and conflicted, even that much was noticeable to himself.
Kronesta put a hand over the boy's shoulder, reassuring him. She recognized the boy's rage, his confusion, and his conflict. She was, after all, still in the middle of recovering from said problems. A bitter, emphatic smile unconsciously formed on her face.
"Come on, we need to get you ready." Kroenesta muttered in a low voice, a complete turnaround from her usual self. "There is much to do."
Lieren nodded, unsure what to say. Kronesta took Lieren's hand and walked away, the melancholic melody fading away as they did.
◇◆◇◆◇
The busy chatters and loud conversations filled the open paved space where Lieren stood, holding onto Kronesta's hand, unconsciously tightening his grip on her hand and the book he was clutching to his chest with his other hand. There was large bag slung on his back, he owned none of the contents; they were a gift, nothing but spare clothes and essentials that Kronesta's work companions—as she put it—gave Lieren. The boy was astounded at first, but accepted nonetheless. He was aware of the dangers that he would have to brave.
Kronesta glanced at her, towering over Lieren as she did so. For Lieren, who had met the scary woman just a week or so ago, she was like a glowing spire of confidence—an aspect Lieren envied greatly.
"Do you have everything?" She asked plainly, ignoring all the chatter and shouts around the two of them; her voice was determined and filled with direction, like she always knew where to go.
Lieren nodded up and down, gripping his book even tighter.
"Very good." She responded simply. "Oh, he's here." Kronesta turned to the side.
Lieren did the same, noticing a colorful figure waving their way casually.
A well-dressed man donning bright colors pivoted to them, carrying his own large bag, though walking much more nimbly than Lieren. He had a thin stature, though from what Lieren could tell from the exposed parts of the man's clothing, the bright man seemed to be quite trained, as well as experienced. The man's hair was obviously extremely well-kept, almost bouncing. Lieren could not even imagine the amount of money put in such a trivial part of one's outer appearance, and thus chose to pay no further attention to it. The man's sleeves were rolled up, exposing the muscles that Lienen noticed. There was an intricate tattoo on the bright man's left wrist, and he cared not for the odd looks that any passerby gave him. There also a rune under his right eye, on the corner. Above the rune were a pair of feline green eyes that exuded a wild pressure on Lieren, making his bag feel heavier than it did just a second before. Eventually, this feeling faded, though the physical weight of Lieren's bag did not disappear completely.
The man put his hand down as soon as he was close enough, pivoting and leaping for a hug. Kronesta dodged with ease, letting the man trip… is what Lieren thought. The boy was astounded when the man twisted himself midair, much like a cat's, spinning and catching himself in an unnatural posture.
He pointed a finger to Kronesta, grinning widely, still in the doing a weird pose. "Still feisty, I see. I dig it." He flexed, and his body straightened itself. His bones did not creak once.
Lieren watched, astounded. "H-How?" The boy asked, mouth agape.
The man, apparently just noticing Lieren, leaned forward and squatted, now eye-level with Lieren. "So, you're the one…" The man trailed off, standing, putting one arm to his waist, then looking at Lieren up and down, his feline eyes tracing Lieren's figure. A playful smirk crept up the side of his face.
Kronesta put a hand over Lieren's shoulder and squeezed tightly. It hurt Lieren, and he tried to complain, but stopped upon noticing the barely-contained rage on her face, akin to a volcano on the cusp of eruption.
She redirected her ominous smile to Lieren, making him flinch for a second. "This will be your guide and guard, Sir Harita Sezukumu."