"Where is she?"
The two men arrived at the narrow alley moments later, only to find it empty. There were unused wooden planks, empty wine barrels, shards of glass, and all sorts of debris, but they found no trace of the thieving girl.
"Damn it!" one of them cursed, venting his frustration by punching the wall of a nearby building. Moments later, he screamed in pain as his hand throbbed from the impact.
"What are we going to tell the master?"
Still nursing his hand, the man blew on it. "That's what I've been thinking about." When he raised his head, his eyes widened in shock, and his body jerked back. "Who's there?" he shouted.
His companion turned to look. There, at the end of the alley, someone stood, shrouded in shadow.
The figure approached. He was young, perhaps in his early twenties, with dark red hair and simple clothing. His smile was warm as he greeted them.
"Good sirs," Evan said. "I mean no harm."
The two men let out a sigh of relief, their expressions softening. "Who are you, boy? And have you seen a masked girl run through here?"
"Masked girl?" Evan repeated. "You mean the girl with the rabbit mask that you've been chasing since the market?"
"Yeah, that's her. Good, you know who we're talking about." Their faces brightened, hope rekindled that they might avoid their master's wrath. "Where is she?"
Evan shrugged. "How should I know?"
Their faces fell.
"But she did pass through here," Evan continued. Their expressions perked up again. "You're looking for this, right?" Evan held up a small black pouch that jingled when shaken. "I'll return it."
Evan handed the pouch to one of the men and turned to walk back into the shadows. The two stood dumbfounded, wondering who the red-haired young man was. But it didn't matter. All that mattered was that they had recovered their master's stolen gold.
***
Ezra pouted, pushing her lips out as far as they would go.
"Why did you help me?"
"Why?" Evan asked, confused. He turned to look at the girl, a beauty who barely reached his shoulder. Both her height and her age—Evan guessed she was no older than eighteen—reminded him of his sister, Freya. But of course, he didn't mention that. "Why do you think I helped you?"
Her name was Ezra, as she had introduced herself a short while ago. Ezra seemed to ponder this, her eyes glancing upward as she replied absentmindedly, "Was it because of my beauty? Many people take an interest in thieves like me because of this lovely face." She proudly stroked her admittedly charming cheeks. "Right?"
"Not even close."
Ezra's shoulders slumped.
"I didn't even consider you'd think something like that."
Her shoulders sank even further.
Evan saw her reaction and chuckled in amusement.
Earlier, Ezra had complained about being hungry. So, Evan had invited her to a nearby tavern. At first, Ezra had refused, claiming with far too much confidence that it was just a trick to get her into bed later that night. But Evan had insisted, saying it was simply an act of gratitude for returning his mother's cherished knife. They had argued after that, with Ezra insisting that returning the knife was her way of thanking him for saving her. Neither of them wanted to back down.
Eventually, they arrived at the front of the tavern.
"You go inside, buy food and drinks, and bring them out here," Ezra said, moving to the side of the entrance and sitting on the steps next to a statue of a beautiful princess pouring water from a jug. "I'll wait here."
Evan raised an eyebrow, staring at her in disbelief. "You want me to buy you food and drink? Since when did I become your servant?"
"Not my servant," Ezra snapped back, turning away from him, avoiding his gaze. "You're just embarrassed to go into a nice place like this with a filthy girl like me."
"You were just bragging about how beautiful you are."
Ezra froze. "Of course, I'm beautiful," her head inflated with pride for some reason, "but that's not the point." She lowered her voice.
"Then what is?"
"You look like a traveler. Everyone admires travelers. They admire their stories. But me, I'm just a dirty thief in ragged clothes."
"My clothes are dirty, too."
"Dirty with honor," Ezra shot back. "And that's impressive, admirable, don't you know?"
Evan's brow furrowed. Dirty with honor? He had never heard such a phrase before, especially not directed at travelers, who often lived by their own rules, free from the constraints of society. To him, travelers had no honor. They were aimless drifters who followed wherever their whims led them. And that was honorable? Where did that come from?
"Honor? Travelers? That makes no sense."
"It's impressive. Travelers are impressive. They're brave people who roam the world freely. They are symbols of freedom." Ezra turned to him, her eyes unusually determined and certain. "They don't just wander aimlessly. They have a purpose."
"And what's that?"
"Their purpose. What else?"
***
They ended up eating together after Evan dragged her inside by the hand. Ezra was surprisingly stubborn, insisting on paying with the stolen gold she still hadn't returned. Evan, not wanting to be in her debt, had replaced the gold with his own. In the end, they compromised, paying separately for their meals.
Afterward, Ezra could barely walk, stuffed full from the meal. Evan had watched in horror earlier as she casually pointed to numerous items on the menu.
"Who's all that for?" Evan asked, eyeing the bag of biscuits she had bought from a street vendor near the tavern.
"For my brother," Ezra replied curtly, not even turning to look at him.
"You have a brother?"
"Yes," she said, again without looking at him. "And he's very handsome."
Evan nodded to himself.
As he looked up at the sky, it was already dusk, the evening creeping closer. He glanced at Ezra, a strange feeling of pity rising inside him from nowhere.
"Ezra, where are you going? It's almost dark."
"Home," Ezra said, taking a biscuit from her bag and humming happily as she tasted the rare treat. "What about you? Are you continuing your journey tonight?"
"I'll head back to the inn and continue my journey tomorrow."
Ezra nodded a few times. "In that case, I'll come with you to your inn."
Evan's eyes widened.
"Don't get the wrong idea. I just want to see it before I head home." Ezra turned to him, her face scrunched up in a playful pout.
"Do whatever you want."
As they walked, they were silent, observing their surroundings. People were heading back to their homes, merchants were packing up their stalls, and the occasional horse-drawn cart could still be seen, though they were becoming rarer.
When they reached the town square, where young couples took advantage of the romantic glow of the setting sun to exchange sweet words, Evan's mind wandered back to their conversation earlier in the day, about freedom and travelers.
"Ezra, I still don't get what you meant earlier."
"About what?" she turned, her bright eyes meeting his. The evening breeze toyed with her long hair, forcing her to hold it back from her face with one hand.
"Travelers," Evan answered. "You seemed fascinated by them."
"I am. In fact, a long time ago, I proudly told my friends that I wanted to be a traveler."
"You? A girl? Becoming a traveler? That's dangerous!"
"It wouldn't be any safer if I were a boy," she replied confidently. "What difference does it make? Leaving the city walls..." she pointed to the massive walls of Olivia City, "or the fences protecting the village, that's the wilderness. You never know what's lurking beyond."
"So you understand the risks, and yet you still want to be a traveler?" Evan pressed. "Honestly, I've never once dreamed of leaving home to become a traveler."
"You left home because you have a purpose, I'm sure of it."
Ezra stared at the setting sun in the west. They remained silent for a while before she spoke again. "That's what I meant by honor. You're willing to risk your life to achieve your goal."
Evan was stunned. A purpose? It was true. He had left home to travel in search of something nearly impossible. The Philosopher's Stone. For the sake of that stone, and for his mother, he had been willing to leave everything behind after graduating from the academy. He was even ready to sacrifice his life for it.
"But what if that purpose isn't a good one?"
"It's still honorable," Ezra replied almost without thinking. "At least they're risking their own life for their goal, not using others as pawns, sacrifices, or tools. They still have honor, the heart of a knight." Her voice softened. "That's what my father always said."
The wind blew, tousling their hair. Evan and Ezra looked at each other, like the young lovers in the square, like a pair of sweethearts.
"Was your father a traveler, too?"
Ezra nodded. "A great traveler."
"What was his purpose? What was his honor?"
Ezra smiled. "You won't believe me."
Strangely, it reminded Evan of what Syiban had said a while back. "I'll believe you," he said with conviction.
"My father's purpose as a traveler was a stone."