Heavy footsteps reverberated through the narrow, dimly lit alleyway, drowned out by the imposing silence of the night. The towering buildings on either side cast long, cool shadows, shrouding the stone path beneath.
A musty odor clung to the air, emanating from the dampness that seeped into the stone from the dirty water discarded by nearby stores. The alley, though barely three meters wide, was cluttered with an assortment of boxes, sacks, and abandoned scraps, forming a chaotic maze in their path.
Hector wrinkled his nose in disgust, his face contorted in a grimace as he unwittingly stepped into something sticky.
"Dear goddess, these paths are a nightmare," he muttered under his breath, trying to shake off the unpleasant sensation on his boot.
Caym and Hector wore cloaks yet their imposing presence was impossible to ignore. Despite their attempts at subtlety, they moved with a certain confidence that demanded attention.
Suddenly, a frail, dirty old man emerged from the shadows, his weathered hands gripping Hector's feet with surprising strength.
"Son... Jaime, where are you going?" he croaked, his eyes pleading for answers.
Confusion clouded Hector's face as he attempted to free his feet from the man's desperate grasp.
"What do you mean, gramps?" he stammered, caught off guard by the unexpected encounter.
"Jaime, why are you leaving me here?" the man cried, his voice cracking with emotion as he clung to Hector's boots, his grip unyielding.
"Wait, wait!" Hector protested, his efforts to disentangle himself growing more frantic, his eyes darting to Caym for help.
Caym, however, remained unmoved, his stance unwavering as he crossed his arms, watching the scene unfold.
Amidst the commotion, a woman's voice pierced the noise.
"Hey there, gentlemen," she called, her tone smooth and inviting.
"You have beautiful amber eyes," added another voice, equally enchanting.
Caym turned to face the source of the voices and found a small stall adorned with intricate gold and red beads, creating a mesmerizing display of colors.
Seated at the stall were two women who seemed almost otherworldly in their resemblance. Their thick, curly hair cascaded around their shoulders, their skin a beautiful shade of coffee that complemented their beautifully round eyes and plump, inviting lips.
Behind them sat a large man of the same complexion, his short hair framing his face as he stood with his eyes closed and arms crossed, as though he was sleeping.
The ladies' smiles were enchanting, their eyes filled with a mysterious allure that seemed to aim to draw Caym in.
One of them delicately placed her hand on her cheek as she leaned on the table, while the other hugged her companion, creating an aura of intimacy that was both captivating and enigmatic.
Nevertheless, Caym observed them with a vacant expression, his thoughts occupied by his military instincts.
"Veyronis. The roaming tribe of diviners," Caym thought. "Why are they in the capital with only three members? I must ask Sir Cortes for a report on their activities."
"Let's go, Comm—ahem, Sir," Hector said as he approached.
Caym's gaze moved to the old man who was now at the side. Hector followed his gaze and scratched his head.
"I promised to come back later," Hector explained.
Caym sighed as he turned around, but before they could leave, one of the woman yelled.
"The black raven was not supposed to save the silver dove!"
Caym and Hector turned to look at the women who were now both standing.
"The gods are furious," the other woman continued, her gaze locked onto Caym. "Do not meddle with fate any longer."
Hector leaned closer to Caym, his voice a mere whisper in the tense atmosphere. "What on earth are they suddenly talking about?"
"The world will descend into chaos. Child of the heavens, you must choose to save the world," the first woman intoned, her words carrying an eerie, prophetic weight.
Hector glanced at Caym, his eyes reflecting a mix of concern and confusion. "They seem to be directing their anger at you," he remarked.
Caym raised an eyebrow in response, but their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a resounding shout that echoed through the narrow alley,
"Where are those charlatans!" a man shouted, his anger palpable as he pointed accusingly at the diviners. "You! You said I would be wealthy if I gambled! I've just lost most of my money!"
He strode forward, a menacing air about him, brandishing a large iron rod. Behind him, a group of rugged men with makeshift weapons followed, their faces contorted in aggression.
"These men dare to bully women in front of the Grand Commander and Lieutenant?" Hector muttered, his eyes narrowing as he took a step forward, ready to intervene.
The man behind the two female Veyronis diviners stood up, his stature nearly matching that of Caym. He approached the armed men calmly, his tone measured.
"Any problem, friend?" he asked.
"I-I guided you to the capital, yet you have deceived me with your fake fortune-telling!" the angry man shouted, his frustration boiling over.
The Veyroni man's brows furrowed in response. "You have won. We provided the prophecy, and it came true. It's not our fault you chose to gamble even after your victory," he explained, his voice carrying a note of exasperation.
"Y-you! You still deceived me!" the furious man retorted, pointing an accusatory finger at the Veyroni. "They brought a chest with them. Take it!" he demanded, his tone laced with malice.
The rugged men smirked wickedly. "Hand it over!"
In the background, Caym rubbed his temples in frustration.
"Why must this have to happen when I have something much more important to do," he grumbled to himself.
Hector glanced at him, concern etched on his face. "Shouldn't we help?" he asked, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword at his side.
Caym shot him a cold gaze, his brows furrowed. "You think you can just slice anyone?" he retorted. "Just show them your badge, and they'll scatter."
"But aren't we supposed to hide our identities?" Hector questioned, uncertainty clouding his eyes.
"Just go," Caym commanded.
"Well, okay," Hector replied, his confidence wavering slightly. He turned toward the armed men, squaring his shoulders. "Hey! Look here!" he shouted.
The men glanced at Hector, their brows furrowing in confusion. Hector pointed at Caym behind him with his thumb, his voice booming. "This is the Grand Commander. It would be wise for you to stop this," he declared loudly.
Caym lowered his hand and shot Hector a withering glare. "What are you doing, Tassis?" he hissed.
Hector leaned closer to Caym, his voice barely audible. "I just realized I left my badge," he confessed, an apologetic smile forming on his face.
The rugged men exchanged puzzled glances before bursting into laughter.
"The Grand Commander? Why would the Grand Commander be wandering these alleyways?" one of them scoffed.
Caym's gaze turned deadly, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation.
"I know, right? That boy got his rank just because he's a noble. GRAND Commander, my ass," another chimed in. "It's a good thing the old commander is no more. They're all corrupt."
They burst into laughter again.
"Commander, are you sure you don't want me to teach them a lesson?" Hector whispered, a deceptive smile playing on his lips, though his eyes reflected a cold emptiness.
Caym tilted his head. "Hmm. Just don't kill them," he said, his voice laced with a dangerous calmness.