The pub's atmosphere felt heavy, the usual warmth replaced by a chilling silence. Charles kept to himself, methodically cleaning and re-cleaning his glassware as though it might bring him peace. His hands were trembling more than usual, ready to let the glass slip through his fingers. Across the counter, Alfred fidgeted, doing his best not to disturb Charles. The weight of the silence gnawed at him, but he didn't want to be a pain towards Charles.
"You said you wanted to fight in the war?"
The words caught Alfred off guard. Charles hasn't broken the silence for half an hour now, and the sudden question made Alfred snap to attention.
"Yeah," Alfred replied, his voice steady despite his surprise. "I want to fight against the Empire."
Charles sighed, setting the glass he was polishing onto the bar with care.
"Forentia's military is gone. Obliterated. The only place that might take you now is the Marcovian Republic."
Alfred's eyes brightened, the name sparking hope. "Marcovia... the republic made up of people from every corner of the world. But how would I even get there? Votyan citizens aren't allowed to leave the Empire's borders."
Charles leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter. His expression turned stern, a seriousness settling into his features.
"You'll meet them at their border—a few thousand kilometers north of the Eastern Front. Getting out of the Empire, though... that's the tricky part. We'll need Scylla's help for that."
Alfred frowned, tilting his head in confusion. "Scylla? Why her? Can't we figure it out ourselves?"
Charles reached under the bar and pulled out a phone, his fingers swiftly dialing a number.
"She's got the tools," he said without looking up, his tone measured. "And she knows the Empire's borders and roads better than anyone I know."
Alfred nodded slowly, though the mention of Scylla left him uneasy. Trusting a Votyan to help him escape felt... risky. Still, he couldn't deny the calm authority in Charles's voice. If Charles believed Scylla could help, then maybe she was worth the risk.
About an hour later, Scylla arrived at the pub with her familiar tote bag slinged over her shoulder.
"I'm here!"
Charles looked up and smiled as she walked in. "Scylla, It's good to see you again."
Scylla smiled warmly, clutching her bag close to her chest as she made her way over and sat beside Alfred after locking the door. She greeted him with a friendly nod, and Alfred awkwardly returned the gesture.
Without wasting much time, Scylla took a folded piece of parchment from her bag and opened it out on the bar. Alfred's eyes widened in shock as he realized what it was. It was a world map. When the Votyans subjugated Forentia, they'd burned every map they could find and banned their possession. Any regular citizen caught with a map was considered a traitor and executed without question.
Alfred couldn't hide the amazement on his face as he stared at the map. It's been so long, he had forgotten where all the lines began and ended for each nation.
"Where did you get this?!"
Scylla blinked in surprise at his outburst but chuckled when she saw the awe in his eyes.
"You probably didn't know this, but my father is Lieutenant General von Lucian," she said casually. "I'm Scylla von Lucian. My home has no want for maps."
The moment those words left her lips, Alfred's expression shifted dramatically. His face fell, and he shot up from his barstool, his brows furrowing in hostility. The sound of the barstool colliding with floorboards echoed through the pub. The Votyan military was no small matter, and her father, a Lieutenant General no less, was a man of great power.
Scylla froze, taken aback by Alfred's sudden hostility. She looked to Charles for help, her expression a mix of surprise and fear. Charles, sensing the tension, slammed his fist onto the counter with a forceful bang. The loud noise made Scylla jump in her seat, and Alfred's attention snapped to Charles. His face was hard and his demeanor was completely different than what Alfred experienced earlier after the soldier's interrogation.
"Quit acting like a fool and sit down. She's here to help. Show some god damn appreciation!"
Alfred blinked, momentarily stunned by Charles's sharp tone. Bewildered, he slowly returned the barstool back to its rightful place and sat his ass back on it, his head down as he muttered an apology to Scylla.
"Sorry..."
Scylla cleared her throat, trying to keep her composure. Her lips quivered slightly as she fought to maintain a smile after both of their outbursts.
"I understand where you're coming from, Alfie. I really do. I was lucky to be born the daughter of an imperial officer. But if I were just an ordinary citizen like you, I'd be frustrated too..."
Seeing that Alfred was still sulking, Scylla extended her hand toward him.
"We're friends, right?" she said with a warm smile. "You can trust me. I've got nothing to gain from turning you in."
Alfred sheepishly glances over at her before shaking her hand, much to her happiness.
The tender moment was cut short by Charles questioning their relationship.
"Alfie?"
Charles repeats the name and raises his eyebrow at Alfred. Alfred was left flustered after realizing he's been found out. Meanwhile, Scylla watched them in confusion.
"Is that not his name?"
Alfred stammered, "U-um... No. I gave you a fake name. Sorry, my name's actually Alfred."
…
Scylla blinked at him before breaking into laughter.
"Sorry, Alfred. But I think I'll continue to call you Alfie. It's far cuter."
Alfred blushed, feeling bashful by her comment about his fake name—now a nickname, apparently.
After she settled down, Scylla began to path out and escape route for Alfred on the map.
"You can take the train here to the farthest eastern town, Wynshire. From there, you'll need to make your way to the logging camp about 40 kilometers northeast."
Scylla traced her fingers across the mountains shown on the map.
"Once you reach the camp, you'll hike up the mountains. There's a trail for about 10 kilometers, but then you'll need to veer off the path and head east through the forest. Just keep going until you hit a chain-link fence."
Scylla pulled a pair of bolt cutters from her bag and set them on the bar. Alfred's eyes shifted towards them.
"You'll have to cut an opening in the fence and keep going straight until you reach the Markovian border. Be quick. This area has less soldiers on patrol, but they're still guarding the area."
Alfred nods along to her instructions.
"Thank you, Scylla. This really means a lot."
Scylla smiles warmly at his gratitude.
"No problem! Oh— I can't give this map to you by the way, so I'll try my best to draw one out for you with the route."
Alfred watched her as she began sketching on a new sheet of paper. His prior premonitions about Scylla are mostly gone now. He's surprised that she's helping out so much and can't help but wonder why she's doing all of this. Nonetheless, it only made him feel guilty with how he'd reacted to her earlier.
Meanwhile, Charles placed a hand on Alfred's head, catching his attention, and handed him a backpack along with some money.
"It'll be a long journey. When you reach your stop at Wynshire make sure you buy some food and water to take with you."
Alfred accepted the items gratefully.
"Thank you Charles—for helping me. I'm sorry for dragging you through... everything. And for how I acted..."
Charles nods, "Apology accepted, boy."
Suddenly, Charles gripped Alfred's shoulders and knelt down to meet his gaze with a serious expression.
"Remember. In order to gain trust, you must give trust."
Alfred stared into Charles's eyes as he said this, slowly nodding his head as he committed Charles's words to memory. Charles smiles warmly at him, a smile reminiscent to Alfred's childhood.
"Be careful, Alfie."
Alfred squirmed in embarrassment, quickly brushing Charles's hands off his shoulders.
"Not you too..."
Charles chuckled, his grin widening.
"What can I say. It does sound cuter."
Alfred rolled his eyes, then laughed, playfully shoving Charles's arm. He adjusted the strap of his backpack, his nerves building as he prepared for the journey ahead.