"This is so much fun...!"
Eldric cheered as he effortlessly leaped through a wall. His raven-black hair bounced with each move, his wide crimson eyes filled with excitement, and he sported a wide, goofy grin.
The sight was almost adorable, except for the fact that his acrobatics had just demolished a door into pieces, creating a cloud of dust and debris.
"Dammit!" his friend, Morvain, groaned, quickly grabbing the boy and pulling him up. "Watch where you're going, you moron!"
"Ugh... You're right, Mor. I almost joined the constellations there," the boy mumbled, rubbing his forehead before continuing his sprint, this time keeping in step with his friend.
In the dark night of Silverlake, the town was fast asleep. Only the shady figures and sometimes the soldiers, on duty, stirred in the quiet. Tonight was one of those nights.
Beneath the cover of darkness, two skilled thieves infiltrated the Town Magistrates' office. Their nimble fingers worked swiftly to grab the seemingly ordinary "Gem of Eclipse."
To an untrained eye, it looked like a simple stone, easily overlooked amidst the town's scattered pebbles. But fate intervened in its discovery. The vigilant mayor spotted it falling from the sky during a lunar eclipse.
Upon closer examination, the town's experts noticed it lacked the sparkle of a precious diamond or the gleam of common metals. A hint of disappointment may have passed through the room, but a glimmer of hope remained – the stone didn't contain the usual minerals found in everyday rocks.
This revelation suggested something more, sparking excitement. Embracing its celestial origin, the mayor dubbed it the "Gem of Eclipse," a name that honored its otherworldly journey.
After forty years of dedicated service, the people of Silverlake were convinced the mayor had lost his mind. It seemed absurd to witness him, a person of his stature, cradling and swaying a simple rock as if it were a baby. The locals found the spectacle utterly absurd and bewildering.
"El!" his friend urgently called out. "Hurry!" They had reached the edge of town, faced with the imposing four-meter-tall cobblestone walls.
Morvain knelt on the ground, hands resting on his knees, while Eldric, quickened his pace. He planted his feet on Morvain's hands and, with a powerful push, launched himself to the top of the wall.
Eldric clutched the wall's edges and extended his hand towards his friend. "Grab my hand!"
A series of whistles pierced the air behind them, the soldiers were dangerously close. "Mor! Now!" Eldric's urgency was palpable.
However, Morvain's efforts were in vain. His shadow stretched before him, cast by the approaching searchlight of the soldiers, drawing ever nearer.
"Thieves! Halt right there!" bellowed a soldier.
"Mor!" the boy exclaimed, panic edging his tone. "Come on!"
"Cross to the other side. I'll rendezvous with you later!" Morvain urgently directed as he swiftly hurled the bag to his friend. "Keep it safe, alright?" A reassuring smile accompanied his words before he darted off, disappearing into a nearby dark alley.
Eldric caught the bag, his gaze lingering on his friend with a complex mix of emotions.
This wasn't part of the plan. They weren't meant to be separated, and the soldiers shouldn't have been this close. Something had gone awry, as if someone had betrayed them.
The situation was spiralling out of control, leaving Eldric with a gnawing sense that their predicament was far more intricate than they had initially believed.
"Lavender..." Eldric gritted his teeth, hoisting the bag over his shoulder before hauling himself up onto the battlement. He concealed himself behind the rough stones as the soldiers congregated below.
"Where are they?" one of them bellowed, their voices echoing off the walls. "Where did they vanish?"
"They were right here..."
"Split up! You three with me, and you four head in that direction."
Eldric peered down at the group from his elevated vantage point, his heart pounding in his chest at the sight of the formidable figure barking orders.
"The Hound...! Damn it!" Eldric's heart pounded as he watched the imposing man heading towards Morvain. Urgency surged through him.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Think, Eldric, think! You're leaving for your family tomorrow, and you can't let your friend meet his end before that!"
Make memories and enjoy the world with your loved ones, that was Eldric's motto. But Morvain was different. He wanted power and wealth. "Darn him! If father hears about this, it'll be the end of him."
A wry chuckle escaped him, a mix of self-amusement and irony. "Father... It's absurd that I still address him that way. A highborn calling a lowborn 'father.' My kin would likely spit in my face if they knew!" He shook his head, refocusing on the urgent situation.
The image of a seven-year-old Eldric fleeing from his real father, the High Lord of Stormwatch, during a hunting excursion, clung stubbornly to his mind. A decade had passed since that incident, yet the reasons behind his impulsive act remained elusive, much like all his past memories. Ego, parental issues—something along those lines. He hadn't even known his family's true name, preventing him from reuniting with them.
Just a fortnight ago, the haze had lifted, and the memories of that pivotal day had flooded back, revealing the truth that he was indeed the seventh son of the High Lord of Stormwatch. The realization had moved him to tears, his emotions overflowing as he dreamed about that long-ago moment.
Morvain had sensed his distress and approached, wordlessly taking a seat beside him. No questions were asked, no explanations needed. The simple act of Morvain's presence, close and unwavering, had been a silent comfort as Eldric allowed his tears to flow freely.
Eldric rummaged through the bag, grabbing a bottle of water. "That fool is always prepared," he chuckled, unscrewing the cap and drinking it down eagerly. After quenching his thirst, he wiped his mouth, a shiver running down his spine as the cool water went down.
There was another small bottle, filled with liquid. Eldric didn't have time to inspect it.
"Alright! Operation 'Rescue Mor the Fool' starts now."
He cracked his knuckles, jogged lightly on the battlement, then picked up the pace.