In the warm glow of the afternoon sun, Sheba knelt beside a large wooden basin, the rhythmic sounds of her washboard echoing softly. Her aura exuded warmth and welcome, enveloping the space around her.
As she diligently scrubbed the laundry, a fine mist of water droplets caressed her skin, drawing her gaze to the source—the freshly washed sheets billowing on the clotheslines.
A gentle breeze swept through the rolling plains, causing the sheets to dance and the mist to refract sunlight, painting the air with hues of rainbow.
Suddenly, a cry from the stables broke the tranquility, and Sheba's heart skipped a beat. One of the children was playing too roughly with a horse's tail. The startled creature reared its head with a displeased neigh, causing the child to stumble and fall.
The other kids stood back, fear evident in their eyes, hesitant to approach their distressed friend while the horse remained agitated.
Without a moment's hesitation, Sheba approached and knelt beside the fallen child, her warm smile a beacon of reassurance. "Are you alright?"
The child nodded, tears welling in his eyes as he winced from the pain in his leg. "I-I think so," he stammered, his voice trembling.
With a tender touch, Sheba placed her hand on his bruised leg, a soft glow emanating from her fingertips as she channeled her healing magic. "There, all better," she said with a smile, her gentle words calming his fears.
The boy beamed, his eyes wide with surprise. "Thank you, Sheba," he exclaimed before pushing to his feet and scurrying off to play once more.
With his hands tucked into his pockets, Feng approached Sheba, having witnessed her kindness and compassion. "I didn't know you could use healing magic," he remarked, respect hidden beneath an aloof demeanor.
Sheba rose to her feet and slowly approached the skittish horse, her gentle caress soothing the creature. "...Yes, but not when I needed it most."
Sensing the cold undercurrent in her words, Feng leaned against a wooden beam, opting to listen rather than pry further.
"…I was born in the far north," she began, her voice low. "I lived with my mother and father, and I was the eldest of five siblings. Our village was small and remote, so everyone had to pitch in to make ends meet, even at a young age. My father was a farmer, and I took on the responsibility of looking after my brothers and sisters while my mother managed the household.
Some days were tough, but we were happy.
One year, we faced a particularly bad harvest, leaving our food supplies dangerously low. The winters in Vhale were harsh, so our situation was extremely dire. In his despair, my father turned to drinking; a way, I suppose, to cope with his worries.
It seemed reasonable at the time," she remarked, a distinct note of outrage simmering in her tone. "But things took a darker turn when he started gambling. In his drunken state, it didn't take long for him to accumulate a large amount of debt, and the creditors were growing eager to collect."
There was a moment of silence, and Sheba's hand stilled on the horse.
"My father is a cold and calculating man," she continued, trying her best to keep her voice even. "Looking back, it's disturbing how easily he prioritized logic and reason over his own family, and I can't help but resent him for it," she confessed, her lips pressed into a tight line.
"To settle his debts... he resorted to the unthinkable. He sold my siblings to Slave Traders."
Feng's frown deepened at her words.
"I can still see it vividly—the men barging into our home, their brutish grip on my siblings as they were torn away from us. And there was my father, a mere spectator from the safety of the kitchen table, lost in the comfort of his drunken haze.
Despite my mother's efforts to stop them, she was overpowered and fell, hitting her head on the stones by the fireplace. I tried to help her," whispered Sheba, her voice breaking, "but I just couldn't stop the bleeding. Back then, I didn't have any magic, so there was little I could do.
Within moments, my mother was gone, all while my father wallowed in his own self-pity. I charged at him in a blind rage, my chest heaving. Before I knew it, my hands were around his neck. Yet, he was unresponsive, his mind shattered by the unforgivable sin he had committed.
I screamed, I cried, I pounded his chest in frustration. But the father I once knew was gone, leaving me without even an outlet for my anger and grief. In a matter of moments, my entire family was gone—ripped from my grasp and my life.
Afterward... I left the village in search of my siblings, only to find myself ensnared in a cage instead. And now... all I have left are regrets," she murmured, her body sinking to the ground as tears traced a path down her cheeks.
"As the merchants took my siblings away, I was paralyzed by fear, selfishly praying they wouldn't take me too," she confessed, her fingers twisting into her hair. "If only I had—"
Feng's hand landed on her head in a rough yet comforting gesture, his other hand still tucked into his pocket. "You were just a kid," he reassured her gently, "it's natural to feel scared in that kind of situation."
"..."
"I have faith that Haxks will come through for us," he continued, his gaze unwavering as he finally met hers. "Once we get out of here, I'll help you to find your siblings, so don't cry anymore."
Sheba's eyes shimmered with gratitude, her cheeks flushing faintly as a tender smile graced her lips. "Can we... just stay like this for a while longer?" she whispered.
Feng's expression softened into a rare smile, his hand tenderly caressing her head. "Sure..."
***
Aware that he was discreetly under surveillance, Daisuke recognized the necessity of projecting compliance with Reginald's directives. Without waiting for a direct command, he proceeded to the library, where he delved into the intricacies of alchemy to expand his knowledge.
Sneaking into the ceiling during the daytime wouldn't be a wise move, he thought, eyeing an access point above a bookshelf. There's a higher risk of being seen or heard, and it's likely that someone might come looking for me in the library.
It was frustrating.
During the night was his only window for free movement, but it came at a steep cost—the sacrifice of a child's innocence, and perhaps her sanity along with it. Ruth showed no signs of recovery from her trauma, and the mere notion of April suffering a similar fate was unbearable to Daisuke.
After breakfast, he embarked on a thorough inspection of the estate, meticulously noting the positions of the scant guards stationed both within and around the property. In an ideal scenario, he would have preferred several more days to painstakingly observe their movements and habits, but unfortunately, he didn't have that kind of luxury.
With a more or less secure plan in place, all Daisuke needed to do was procure a few swords from the weapons vault. If that proved too challenging, he would settle for the less durable ones adorning the walls as mere decorations.
Securing food was optional.
Next, setting the kitchen ablaze was crucial to the success of the plan. While the chaos ensued, the slaves would seize the opportunity to flee the estate under the veil of night.
Honestly, it wasn't much of a plan, but time constraints allowed no room for further improvement.
Moving through the estate before everyone was sound asleep carried its risks, but Daisuke knew the plan had to be set in motion before another innocent soul succumbed to predation. It was a one-shot opportunity, and failure meant losing everything.
Taking a calming breath, Daisuke refused to dwell on what lay at the end of his mysterious existence. As he awaited the setting sun, he found himself seated in the library, engrossed in a book. His eyes darted from side to side, fully immersed in the compelling text unfolding before him.
The veil between the mundane and the extraordinary thins, revealing alchemy's profound ability to twist and distort the very essence of matter.
The alchemist, as the conjurer of transformation, becomes the weaver of reality's fabric. Elements, once thought immutable, bow to the dance of alchemical incantations, surrendering to their latent potential.
Among the most coveted of alchemical feats is the transmutation of base metals into silver and gold. This is not a mere metallurgical process, but a communion with the very heart of matter. Through intricate rituals and precise calculations, the alchemist coaxes metals to shed their mundane form.
To master the art of transmutation is to unlock the universe's hidden potential, to traverse the fine line between science and magic, and to touch the divine symphony that orchestrates creation. The pages that follow delve into the mysteries and methods of this arcane craft, inviting the seeker to—
Daisuke's eyes widened in shock at the traces of torn out pages that followed. Huh? These pages were blatantly ripped out. But why would anyone want to do that?
Eager to continue, he briskly approached the shelf where the book had once rested, his hand reaching into the now vacant space. Balancing on tiptoe, he extended his arm, delving deep into the recesses of the shelf. Yet, to his dismay, he found nothing.
Or so he believed.
Unbeknownst to him, a concealed transmutation circle slowly hummed awake from its long slumber. It resonated in harmony with the one Daisuke had inadvertently activated in the ceiling above Reginald's office. Together, the magic circles executed the embedded command within their cores.
Before long, a subtle tremor and a low rumble unveiled a trap door in the floor.
Fear of monsters & the unknown: 32.8%
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