The journey to the slums passed in a blur, the minutes slipping away like grains of sand through an hourglass. The group of eight moved swiftly, their footsteps echoing in the narrow streets.
The raiders trailing behind Victor and the old man filled the silence with idle chatter, boasting of their exploits and discussing the city's ever-changing circumstances. Their voices were rough, tinged with the weariness of lives spent surviving on the edge.
As they neared the edge of the slums, the old raider broke the silence between himself and Victor. "It's already late," he said, his voice steady and authoritative. "I'll send you home first."
Victor's steps faltered, his brows knitting together in protest. "But—"
The old man cut him off, his tone firm but not unkind. "Don't worry. I'll find your friend."
There was a finality in his words that made it clear the discussion was over. Victor hesitated, glancing at the darkening streets ahead, but something about the old raider's demeanor—calm, resolute—made him nod reluctantly.
Though Victor couldn't quite understand the source of the old raider's sudden kindness, his gut told him there had to be a catch. And, unbeknownst to him, there was.
The old raider raised his hand, motioning to the group behind them. A towering man with a broad, muscular frame—easily larger than the old raider—stepped forward. Despite his intimidating size, he broke into a wide, childlike grin as he approached.
"What can I do for you, mister?" the large man asked, his voice brimming with a surprising cheerfulness.
"The kid needs to go home," the old raider said plainly.
The bulky man tilted his head, his expression momentarily puzzled. "You wouldn't want a kid walking alone in the middle of the night, would you?" the old raider added, his voice carrying a hint of persuasion.
The man's confusion melted away, replaced by an enthusiastic nod. "Right! I'll take him home!" he said, his tone almost gleeful.
Victor blinked in disbelief as the bulky raider grabbed his hand and started walking. The sheer size difference between them made Victor feel like a child being led by his father. Am I a toddler or something? he thought dryly, glancing up at the man whose grin remained plastered on his face.
Behind them, the old raider watched the duo disappear into the dimly lit streets. He let out a quiet sigh before coming to a halt, his gaze fixed on the empty road ahead. Raising his hand once more, he summoned another raider from the group.
A much smaller, wiry man approached, his head bowed as if afraid to meet the old raider's eyes. "Sir?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Whisper everybody in Luneford and its vicinity to gather here," the old raider commanded, his tone resolute.
The smaller raider nodded and immediately sank into a lotus position on the ground, his movements fluid and practiced. Closing his eyes, he brought his hands together over his chest in a gesture of focus, preparing to relay the message in a way that seemed almost ritualistic.
The old raider remained still, his sharp eyes scanning the empty street ahead as though anticipating something—or someone.
---
"You see," the raider began, leaning back slightly as his gaze settled on Elias, "I heard a whisper while I was eating dinner earlier."
Elias frowned, his expression unchanging yet filled with subtle confusion, clearly not following where the conversation was headed. He remained silent, waiting for the man to elaborate.
"As I was saying," the raider continued, his tone calm but carrying an edge of unease, "a whisper came through. It wasn't just me—every raider outside heard it too. A summons, but without any explanation."
He paused, watching Elias closely, his eyes searching for a reaction. "That's why I turned up late. And when I got here..." He exhaled heavily, the memory weighing on him. "Well, everything was already over."
Elias's expression twisted into an even more perplexed look, his brows furrowed deeply.
---
"All forces inside Luneford and within five kilometers, gather at the slums on foot. Do not take any alarming actions."
The whispered command echoed in Ariel's mind as he perched on the sturdy branch of a tree, nibbling on a banana cake. His sharp eyes scanned the dark forest ahead, his frustration mounting.
"Come on!" he muttered, striking his dagger into the bark of the tree with irritation. The words had entered his mind earlier, but he had dismissed them without a second thought.
"I lost it. How can it not make any sound when it's moving so fast?" Ariel complaint bitterly, rising to his knees as he balanced himself on the branch.
"It would fetch at least six or seven pounds if I capture it alive," he mused, his glowing eyes lighting up with excitement. Stealth mode: activate! he thought dramatically, imagining himself blending perfectly into the shadows
He pulled up the hood attached to his coat, clearly customized to suit his personal style.
Unlike his colleagues, whose armor prioritized defense and durability, his attire was tailored for agility and mobility. Just as he had removed the metal gauntlet supporting the crystal on his gloves, he had also discarded all the metal reinforcements from his lower body.
For half an hour, he leapt from branch to branch, dagger in hand, his focus unwavering as he hunted his elusive prey. The forest remained silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves beneath him.
Then, another whisper came, cutting through his focus like a blade: "Ariel, you are to arrive here in five minutes, or you will lose your chance at the next commission."
He froze, the words sinking in. They carried the weight of a threat, a consequence he couldn't afford to ignore.
Yet, he shook his head, brushing the whisper aside. Don't mind me, he thought defiantly. The thrill of the hunt still drove him. "Screw your commission! I'll catch this thing alive, and they'll all thank me when I bring it back for dinner." His glowing eyes reflected his enthusiasm, the image of his colleagues bowing in gratitude flashing in his mind.
But as time passed and his search yielded nothing, a nagging thought crept in. The uncertainty of capturing the creature began to outweigh the promise of its worth.
He sighed heavily, his resolve wavering. "Maybe going back is the better decision," he admitted to himself, reluctantly turning away from the dense forest.
He cast one last glance over his shoulder, the darkness consuming the trees like an ominous veil. "Well, a commission isn't so bad either," he muttered, convincing himself that a pound or two from a reliable job was better than the slim chance of catching a monster worth six pounds.
As he descended from the trees and began his trek back, he reasoned further. If there's one of those things out here, there's bound to be more. No need to risk everything for a single prize.
Unbeknownst to him, the creature he longed to capture was the only one of its kind in the forest—indeed, in the entire world.
With that, Ariel quickened his pace, heading back toward the slums.
After a few minutes, Ariel found himself walking toward a particular house. Just as he reached the entrance, a raider stepped forward to greet him.
"Look who's late," the raider said, clapping his hands mockingly.
It was none other than Jim, the same raider who had jeered at Victor in the underground arena.
"Not today, Jim," Ariel replied, a casual smile on his face as though entirely unbothered.
The other raiders glanced at the two, the tension drawing their attention. Soon, they began to gather, forming a loose circle around them. It was clear this sort of scene was not uncommon.
Jim spun around slowly, gesturing to the assembled raiders. "Look at your fellow raiders, Ariel," he said, dragging out Ariel's name with mock importance.
As he stopped spinning, he locked eyes with Ariel, whose smile remained intact, unfazed by the taunt. This only fueled Jim's frustration, prompting him to continue.
"Man, you're really living up to your name," Jim sneered, his voice laced with derision. Ariel's expression hardened, his smile replaced by a piercing glare.
"Ariel Hawke, grandson of the he—" Jim's words were cut short by a swift fist colliding with his face, sending him stumbling back.
Jim wiped at his nose, now bleeding from the blow. His eyes burned with fury as he straightened up, preparing to retaliate. But before he could act, a commanding voice cut through the commotion.
"That's enough."
Jim froze, turning to see the old raider standing amidst the crowd, his gaze sharp. His mere presence was enough to silence any further escalation.
"Everyone, begin the search," the old raider commanded, his voice resolute. The raiders dispersed immediately, leaving only Ariel behind.
"Ariel, follow me," the old man added, settling down by the fire they had made outside the house.
Ariel walked over and sat across from him. "Is there any particular reason why everyone's gathered here?" he asked, glancing around at the now-empty space.
"Remember the guy I mentioned yesterday?" the old raider asked, tossing Ariel a piece of bread.
"We're looking for him," he added, taking a bite of his own.
"Oh, so that person's real?" Ariel replied, his tone dripping with mockery as he started eating.
"I mean, who could've done something like that while being a..." He paused, searching for the right words, then looked up at the old raider. "You know, just a normal kid?" He raised a brow, seeking confirmation.
The old raider shook his head, dismissing the comment. "Black hair, black pupils, just as tall as you, and probably a year younger."
He stood up, dusting off his hands as he spoke.
"Is that all? What's so special about finding this guy?" Ariel asked, his tone casual, seemingly unaffected by the old man's authority—an attitude uncommon among the other raiders.
The old raider turned to him, his gaze sharp. "Do you want to stay the newest recruit?"
Ariel's eyes lit up at the challenge, and he grinned. "Oh, so you want to recruit this guy? Hell yeah!" His enthusiasm flared as he stood up, ready to act.
"Now that you know the reason, I trust you'll handle this," the old raider said, turning his back to Ariel as he prepared to leave.
"I'm counting on you. You're probably the only one here capable of tracking him down," he added before walking off.
Ariel stood in silence for a moment, a sly grin creeping onto his face. So, not only do I get to improve my magic skills, but I might also gain a junior raider who'll look up to me? he mused, the thought feeding his already growing enthusiasm.
"Alright! New mission! find the miss—" He paused abruptly, cutting himself off.
"Wait… why are we even here?" he muttered, glancing skeptically at the small house in front of him.
Ariel swiftly sprinted toward a nearby house, leaping onto its wall with practiced ease. His movements were sharp and precise, each grab and push calculated as if he'd scaled countless buildings before.
Did he say anything about his skin color? he wondered mid-climb.
Eh... I'll just find someone with matching details, he decided, dismissing the concern entirely.
Reaching the roof, he crouched, scanning the labyrinthine slums below. The densely packed buildings left little room for open streets—most paths were narrow alleys, barely visible from above.
Can't see a thing from here, he muttered, his gaze shifting to a taller structure in the distance. Determined, he made his way toward it, climbing swiftly.
Once atop the highest building he could find, Ariel perched at its edge and closed his eyes, steadying his breathing.
"In shadows deep where light is blind,
The whispers of the wind will guide."
He murmured the words softly, his voice carrying the cadence of a spell as he prepared to listen for the answer the wind would bring.
He could sense the movements below, even with his eyes shut, as if he was the wind itself, weaving through the narrow streets and slipping past his colleagues undetected.
Not here. His thoughts sharpened as he redirected his focus elsewhere.
Minutes passed in complete silence until something stood out—a faint, distinct presence.
"Got you!" he exclaimed, snapping his eyes open before leaping off the building without hesitation, his fear of heights nonexistent.
Mid-air, his hand caught onto a hanging lantern affixed to a wooden plank. Using it to slow his descent, he landed smoothly, his agility suggesting an uncanny familiarity with the environment despite never having been there before.
He sprinted through the labyrinth of alleys and clustered houses, his steps swift and deliberate, until he arrived at a building that made him halt.
Lights spilled from inside, and glass panes replaced the usual shutters, offering a clear view of the interior.
"A bakery?" he murmured, perplexed.
"Who even buys bread this late?" he added aloud, trying to rationalize the oddity.
Unless you're the baker, he thought, pushing the door open, triggering the soft chime of a bell overhead.
A woman stood behind the counter, and Ariel's gaze instinctively sized her up.
Nope, definitely not him.
Evelyn glanced up, startled by the unexpected visitor. A raider, of all people, entering her shop at this hour.
Who would buy bread this late? she wondered, maintaining her polite smile.
"Excuse me, but we're about to close," she informed him warmly.
Ariel didn't flinch. He considered the possibility that the person he sought might be working here.
"I'm not here to buy anything," he replied, his tone even. "I'm looking for someone. Maybe you've seen him?"
Evelyn shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm the only one working here."
"Is that so?" Ariel forced a smile, though his mind was already running a mile a minute. This is a first.
"Yes, but if you have any questions, feel free to ask," she offered.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said as he turned to leave, but something made him stop just before stepping outside.
Ariel hesitated at the threshold, the door slightly ajar as the soft chime of the bell hung in the air. Something didn't feel right.
He glanced back at Evelyn, who was now tidying the counter, her calm demeanor making her seem far removed from any involvement in his search.
She's the only one working here, but... that doesn't mean he's not here, Ariel thought, his instincts gnawing at him.
Turning fully, he stepped back inside, his gaze sweeping over the small bakery with calculated precision. The warm light illuminated shelves lined with bread, pastries, and a faint layer of flour dusting the counters.
"Do you have a storage room or a back door?" he asked, his voice calm but carrying an edge of authority.
Evelyn blinked, caught off guard by the question. "A storage room, yes. But it's just for supplies," she said, gesturing to a door at the far end of the bakery.
"Mind if I take a look?" Ariel asked, already moving toward the door without waiting for her permission.
Evelyn stepped forward, her smile faltering. "I'm sorry, but customers aren't allowed back there—"
"This won't take long," Ariel cut her off, his hand on the door handle.
Before she could protest further, he swung the door open, revealing a dimly lit storage room cluttered with sacks of flour and crates of ingredients.
"My bad," he muttered, his face etched with confusion. "I apologize," he added, his eyes still lingering in the storage room as if drawn by an invisible force.
"Excuse me, but you need to leave right now," Evelyn said, her voice steady though her fury was evident beneath her composed exterior.
"I will," he replied, yet his bewilderment remained. His body had moved on its own, driven by a strange compulsion to seek out someone entirely unfamiliar.
Stepping back toward the door, he turned to Evelyn and bowed slightly, his gesture sincere despite his embarrassment.
"I apologize for my rudeness. I'll be on my way now," he said, shame coloring his tone as he averted his gaze, hiding his face.
Not cool, dude, he chastised himself inwardly.
Before exiting, he added, "If you see someone—black hair, black pupils, about my height, and maybe younger—please let me know. I'll be back tomorrow." He left quickly, not waiting for her response.
Once outside, he collapsed to his knees, overwhelmed by a wave of humiliation. His mind replayed the awkward encounter in relentless loops.
Why would I do that?! he berated himself, mortified by his earlier actions.
Ariel's thoughts were interrupted by faint voices in the distance. His colleagues were heading his way.
Quickly pulling himself together, he prepared to leave, figuring there was no reason for him to linger. But then he caught snippets of their conversation.
"Who are we even looking for?" one of the raiders asked.
"The old man said it. Black hair, black—" another started to reply but was cut off.
"I mean, what's his story? Why are the Wardens after him?" the first raider pressed.
Ariel slipped into the shadows of an alley, crouching as the voices grew closer and passed by.
"You two, I already told you not to talk about it out here," a third voice scolded before fading into the distance.
Wardens? Ariel thought, the word echoing in his mind. I'm looking for someone connected to the Wardens?
The revelation left him stunned, confusion etched on his face as he tried to piece it all together.
Could he be a criminal? The thought struck him with unsettling weight.
Suddenly, the gravity of his task became clear. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to find this person with good intentions or if force would be necessary.
The enthusiasm and confidence he'd had before seemed to drain away. Somber and deep in thought, Ariel turned and began making his way back to the campfire.