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Sylanwood, West Tarrabria, Time: 5:00 PM
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In bustling West Tarrabria, Ezra walked quickly, his emotions scattered in every direction.
'Why do I have to be here...' Ezra increased his pace, occasionally bumping into people, but he didn't care; he wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.
"EZRA!"
Ezra shut his ears; he didn't want to hear any of this at all. This festival sucked, and this whole place sucked, why did they have to be-
"EZRA!"
Ace finally caught up to him, holding onto Ezra's arm tightly. Both of them stopped at the park, with Ezra not looking back at him.
"Come on, tell me what's wrong, buddy?" Ace was exhausted, he had been chasing him around for hours.
Ezra sighed in frustration, "What's there to talk about? Just leave me out of all of this. All of you seem to be so enjoying yourselves in this town." He didn't bother turning around to talk about this.
"You don't have to do this on your own! We've been through hell and back, so just tell me what's going on?" Ace led him to sit down on a bench with him.
"It's because he's a coward."
A voice stated, and both of them recognized the familiarity of this voice, with a man walking up to them – it was Pierre.
"All because you couldn't kill her when given the chance, so much, you resorted to leaving your village to die." Pierre stared down at them, his empty yellow eyes reflecting in the calm evening.
Ace was growling before standing up to argue with his brother, "You shut your mouth! You do not know anything about us or anyone for that matter!" Ace was now just pissed that his brother showed up to talk them down.
Pierre crossed his arms, regarding Ace and Ezra coldly. His golden eyes narrowed as Ace shouted at him, his own temper starting to flare.
"Don't presume to know what I do or don't understand, brother," he said sharply. "You always were the emotional and impulsive one. Never stopping to consider all facets of a situation logically."
He glanced dismissively at Ezra who sat hunched on the bench, avoiding his piercing gaze.
"You let childish bonds blind you, ignore uncomfortable realities. But the simple fact is, your friend here abandoned innocents to die out of sentimental cowardice. Hardly noble."
Ace clenched his fists, fury rising. How dare Pierre just casually stride in and attack his closest companion! He didn't have the full context. Hell, even Ace didn't fully understand Ezra's hidden depths.
"There were extenuating circumstances you can't possibly comprehend," Ace shot back hotly. "So I suggest you stow your arrogant judgments until you actually know what the hell you're talking about!"
Pierre's mouth twisted in annoyance. "The same tired excuses and denial. When will you open your eyes that some scissors must be cut? That all your laughable mercy and redemption does is enable monsters!"
His cold gaze raked over Ezra derisively. "But fine, cling to your delusions. Just know they'll drag you and your friends down eventually."
He made to stalk off, but Ace roughly grabbed his shoulder instead. The brewing fight likely would have come to blows if not for Ezra abruptly rising from the bench.
"Enough," came his quiet but firm voice. He met Pierre's harsh stare evenly. "Your disdain is warranted. But do not fault Ace for showing me undeserved grace."
Pierre's angry retort died on his lips at the profound sorrow and guilt in those haunted eyes. This broken warrior clearly carried crushing burdens few could fathom.
Without another word, Ezra walked off alone into the falling night. Ace moved to follow but Pierre's grip on his arm stopped him short.
"Let him be," he muttered. For once devoid of contempt. "Your friend's path is not ours to walk."
Ace wrenched his arm from Pierre's grip, glaring daggers at his infuriating brother. Even now Pierre just couldn't resist getting in some smug, superior last word rather than show an ounce of empathy.
"You just love driving the knife in deeper, don't you?" Ace spat accusingly. "What the hell do you want from me, from us?"
Pierre's impassive expression flickered briefly to something wounded before hardening again. "Contrary to your inflated opinions of yourself, not everything is about you, brother. My aims here far exceed whatever petty drama..."
His dismissive gesture only further enraged Ace. "Oh of course, always the lofty pretensions! Not like we shared any history or bonds that might mean a damn thing!"
He stepped closer, jabbing an angry finger at Pierre's chest. "Well here's a reality check for you - we stopped being family the day you walked away without looking back. So stop acting entitled to judge me or my friends!"
A tense beat passed, years of bitter hurts hanging suspended between them. For an instant, Pierre almost seemed on the verge of saying something genuine. Then his face closed off entirely.
"You've chosen your path, as I have mine," he said coldly. "Cling to whatever wayward souls validate your childish quest for purpose if you must."
He adjusted his coat with finality. "But this land's fate hinges on greater things than your ego. Do try not to get in my way."
With that, he strode off without a backward glance. Ace trembled with anger watching his retreating form, hands shaking.
"Yeah, well FUCK YOU TOO!" he shouted angrily.
When Pierre didn't react, Ace growled inarticulately, storming off to try and find which direction Ezra had disappeared to. Maybe together they could actually get some distance from the judgemental ghosts of the past.
Pierre sighed to himself before sitting down on the bench where Ace and Ezra had been sitting, lighting himself a ciggy.
"You fucker! What the hell was that?!"
"For fuck's sake..." Pierre muttered to himself, the moments of tranquility just ruined in a matter of seconds. Pierre looked up to see the person who had been following him – it was Detective Sarin.
"Sarin," Pierre said through his irritated teeth, "Are you here to ruin my tranquility as well?" Even though he dealt with Ace and Ezra easily, Sarin was the toughest cookie.
"You are the worst brother I have seen of all time! Is that your lesson for your brother?" Sarin was wearing a black hoodie with an azure color on the bottom with a fur hood.
Sarin decided to pinch Pierre's ear and lift him to stare at him. "Ezra was your co-worker, and you treated him like shit! What the hell happened after 5 years with you?" Sarin was just disappointed and angry at him.
"You don't get it. The fact is our world will keep changing, and people you know will die one day. So, no time to get attached." Pierre stated before he tried to get Sarin's hand off his ear, but it tightened. "Oh, come on."
Sarin was bonking his head. "You. Are. Such. A. Sad. Man at this point! Oh, look at me. I lose my best friend in an incident, and I should be an asshole to everyone about it." Sarin mocked him, causing a comedic vein to appear on Pierre's head.
"And that best friend of ours killed millions of innocent people. What's your point?" His day was ruined; he was now hungry and pissed.
"And he saved us all!" Sarin let go before adjusting her glasses to make sure they stayed on her face.
"Yeah, what does Sugar have to do with this petty drama?" Pierre got up; his face was flattened a little. "It's unlike you to bring his name into such things."
Sarin was looking over the city of Tarrabria; the first day of the festival was going on. Even though she arrived late, she enjoyed this moment.
"Because we believe in him while you don't believe in The Lucky Inquisitors at all." Sarin was touching the railing; the wind was blowing her brown hair.
"Yes, because they are going on a childish quest. Having to rely on each other and getting lucky, per se." Pierre decided to look over the city as well.
"You rely on Sugar to upgrade your blade and card. We are just like them back then five years ago." Sarin laughed before lighting a ciggy of her own and smoking it.
"You can't smoke, you idiot," Pierre stated as he watched Sarin coughing a little; she only took a single huff of it.
"Ah, quit it. You're the hypocrite of this whole shit." Sarin stated; that she missed a lot of things, but Sugar is the one she missed the most.
Pierre scoffed, plucking the cigarette from Sarin's fingers and taking a long drag himself.
"Don't presume you can lecture me about hypocrisy," he muttered, smoke trailing from his nostrils. "You've done your share of convenient moralizing when it suited your aims."
He flicked ash from the cigarette, gazing broodingly at the festival lights beginning to twinkle below. As much as he hated to admit it, Sarin's words about his former teammates had landed a blow.
"And I don't need hindsight to recognize the threat unchecked power presents," he continued quietly. "Or how easily bonds blind even the wisest to uncomfortable truths."
Images flashed unbidden across his mind. Jovial laughter around a campfire, a smiling face offering a steady hand up from the dirt...
He grimaced, quick to shut down that line of thought.
"I simply opened my eyes to hard realities long ago. Before they consumed everything."
Sarin studied his expression, glimpsing the old wounds behind his harsh exterior. She may act the blustering firebrand, but her keen insight rarely misses emotional subtleties.
"Yeah well, guess we all carry regrets about the past," she conceded, tone gentling slightly. "But you can't let that poison the present too."
She lightly bumped his shoulder, almost playfully. "Maybe you should have a little more faith in your bro and his pals. They've got good hearts under all the chaos."
Pierre's mouth quirked with a hint of reluctant amusement. Trust Sarin not to stay angry for long. Ever the emotionally volatile one of their old team.
"Hearts won't mend rifts between worlds I fear," he murmured. But perhaps kept too closely guarded, his own was withering as well.
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