"Smoke and blood caused by calamity,

And a scapegoat must face the terror.

If the path's rewritten rhetorically,

What more can a Calamity die of honor?"

~*~

"Strange..." a man uttered as he studied an unconscious stranger on his floor.

As an instinct, anyone would wake a sleeping intruder in their house or call for assistance to drive them away. Yet Isaac didn't even look surprised. Actually, he had a few shares of a thief break ins so many times that he lost count. Most would have five members in a company but never one. However this time was different. The sun was high in the sky and this unconscious individual had the guts to attempt burglary. The audacity! Somehow Isaac felt a bit impressed.

Isaac never lived in luxury. His humble home can fit for a family of four commoners. Though the architecture may contribute to serious fire hazard, still the house can serve plenty of years to come. Unfortunately it provided an easy break-in to thieves, and whenever they broke a door or a window or two, he had to fix it manually which was...troublesome.

But when he broke in, none of the two were broken — except the door knob.

There was something else about this man. Something different from frequent visitors. His skin was softly tanned. Hair dark with a shade of brown, and what's even strange is his... His ears...

Isaac lifts a hand to hide his grin, eyes twinkling with mischief. "How strange indeed."

He stands from his chair and walks over to the man's side. He lifts his cane and pokes the sleeping man on the shoulder. There was no response, he frowned.

"He is unconscious..." he sighed. "How troublesome."

Isaac puts his cane down, bends his knee and lifts the man up like a bride. For a second, he was shocked how light he was, as if this fellow hadn't eaten in days. He accidentally inhaled a strong stench of sweat, and Isaac felt his breath taken away from him. He takes it that he hadn't taken a good bath either.

"Urrp!"

Isaac quickly heads to his bedroom and carefully places the man on the bed. He then stood aside, hands on his hips.

"I hope you are thankful..." With a sigh, he snapped his finger and a bowl of water along with a cloth floated towards him, a sparkling cerulean dust trailing behind. "Should I do it manually or..." he muttered to himself. "What do you think Éclair?"

His cane suddenly floats from behind and tilts slightly. Éclair produces an alternate intonation jingling as if to tell its owner what he must do. Isaac frowns at the cane's suggestion.

"You do know I have better things to do than wipe that halfling clean, correct?"

The cane hovers above, looking down at Isaac trying to assert dominance as the jingling tone rises.

"Ugh. Alright, alright! Geez, I'll do it." Isaac clicks his tongue. "So troublesome."

Bop!

"Ow!" Isaac exclaimed and rubbed his head. "Éclair!?"

The cane jingled sarcastically and floated out of his room. He rolls his eyes.

Isaac was left alone with the man. Glancing down at him, he judges his facial structure and his overall anatomy like a critic of a living mortal. Though for being very light, the visible muscles in his body were well proportioned. It was nothing like one would achieve through tough physical training but rather from daily labor that requires strong force. He hummed and scanned on his own body. Somehow it made him jealous.

Isaac shakes his head, realizing that he was wasting time. It's past midday and there's plenty more things he needs to do, like feeding his fish.

Isaac folds his cool gray sleeves on elbow level and ties his medium length, snow white hair into a low ponytail.

"Right. Let's get this done." Isaac told himself.

He snapped his fingers and the cloth dipped itself on the bowl and began to wipe the man's face. He moved the shoes, took them off and placed them under the bed. Isaac then unbuttons the shirt, and grunts as he takes it away and throws it across the room. The socks then followed with the same process. Afterwards, he huffs attempting to flip the man around. When he did, sweat dropped from his forehead onto the man's back. The cloth did its job swiftly, dare not to miss a spot.

Isaac's eyes landed on his back and spotted two horizontal remodeled skin just slightly below the shoulder blades. It was an odd place for a wound to be on. It doesn't look like it was from a whip, nor from a blade. It has a small hump like something used to be there before. Isaac hummed, darting his eyes from the man's ears to his back. Those two are probably connected, and if they are, this mortal will be the first he had encountered in years.

"He is a halfling." he said, turned his heel and marched out of his room, leaving the bowl and the cloth to its job.

"Éclair, I will return soon. I need to gather some herbs."

The cane jingled in response as the door closed behind him.

Isaac ran across the rope bridge, creaking and swinging as he went. Who in the world would have thought? He has an abomination in his home, lying on his bed probably floating across dreamland, and a halfbreed at that!

Relying on Isaac's knowledge, the man was a breed of a dark fey and a high elf, as he was certain enough as soon as he saw those marks on his back. Although dark fey ears tend to be sharper and longer to the tips, the elves had shorter and softer ones. And proves well enough to present the back marks as his pair of wings. Only that it happened to be taken away, making him wonder how he lost them. But that's not what's important. He had questions he wanted answered, but one lingered in his mind.

His home is where the borders of Gardania and the Southern Highlands meet, a well preserved clearing where exotic creatures often wander, and a small town three miles to the north. Plus it's farthest from the capitals of both countries. He should ask where the guy came from and figure out his motives. Since most of the ones who broke into his home all shared one goal which is his most prized possession.

Isaac spots a wild chamomile and picks a handful, it should help with the halfling's headaches. He turns his head left, a patch of rosemary swayed by a soft breeze. He hopped over a rock and grabbed another handful of the flora, and rushed back to his home.

It was three when he finished his concoction. He simply waited in his kitchen while Éclair stood guard. Boredom hits him very soon and Isaac snaps his finger and a thick book floats towards him, landing on his lap. He feels the book before turning to the page where he left, and before he knew it the sky had already turned dark.

Seven in the evening, Isaac was casually slicing onions, hums to a tune when he heard a thud in his room. He jerks his head up and finds Éclair hovering beside him. There could only be one thing that can make that noise. His guest is awake.

Isaac left the table and strode to his bedroom. He turns the knob and peeks inside. It was dark, but his eyes could see like it was in the day.

"Hey, you awa—"

In a blink of an eye, he was pushed back by a strong force. He hit the wooden railing and fell on the floor with a heavy thud. Isaac hissed as pain surges across his back. It happened so quickly that he didn't have time to react. Blinking his eyes open, the intruder had him pinned with a dagger on his neck. A pair of hostile emerald eyes glared at Isaac's pale blue as if waiting for a reaction, but none came out from Isaac.

The green eyes finally parted his lips, but what came out of them had Isaac render astonished.

The intruder snarled, "Who are you and where am I?"

Is this how mortals treat one another these days? Isaac thought.