The child looked scared. He glanced at Zen first, then shifted his gaze toward Zara and Nyra. His eyes were cautious, filled with fear, but he didn't move. Slowly, Zara approached him. She crouched down to his level and studied him for a moment before carefully untying the cloth that was gagging his mouth.
As soon as the cloth was removed, the boy burst into tears. His sobs echoed in the quiet basement. Zara's expression softened, and she gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "It's okay," she said, trying to calm him. "You're safe now."
"What's your name?" Zara asked in a soft voice.
The boy sniffled, looking at her with wide, teary eyes. His lips trembled as he tried to speak, but only more sobs came out. Zara waited patiently, her hand still resting lightly on his shoulder, trying to reassure him.
The boy's lips trembled as he whispered, "Oso."
"Oso?"
"My name is Oso," the boy said again, his voice soft but steady this time.
"Oso," Zara repeated gently. "What are you doing here?"
The boy tilted his head, looking at her with wide eyes, as though the answer should be obvious. "It's my house," he said. His tears had stopped now, replaced by a confused expression.
Zara blinked, caught off guard by his tone. "I mean… who tied you here?" she asked, keeping her voice calm and patient.
"Papa," Oso replied simply.
Zara kept her focus on the boy. "Your papa tied you up? Why?"
"He always does," Oso said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "He said not to get out of bed until he comes back."
Zara frowned. "Does he do this often?"
"Every night," Oso answered. "But this time… I woke up." His voice wavered slightly,
Zen, who had been standing beside Nyra took a step forward "Does your papa wear a black robe?" he asked.
Oso blinked, clearly puzzled. "What's a robe?"
Zen pointed at Zara. "Clothes like hers."
The boy looked at Zara's outfit for a moment before shaking his head. "No. He wears coat."
Zen frowned, his unease growing. The man wasn't wearing a robe?, but the situation still felt wrong. Why would someone tie their child to a bed every night and leave them in the dark like this? Something wasn't adding up.
Nyra tilted her head. "You said you woke up? What does that mean? Do you usually stay asleep?"
The boy nodded, wiping his tears "Papa always comes back in the morning to wake me up... but today... he didn't." His voice cracked, and he let out a small, shaky sob.
"Morning?" Zen blurted, his surprise evident.
Zara leaned forward, her tone calm "Do you know where we are?"
The boy gave her a look, as if the answer was obvious. "I'm not a baby. I know that much, we live in Brelton."
Brelton? A named place? Zen thought raced. People of the old world used to name the places where they lived, not like sectors or area but — A real name, something he'd only heard whispers about in tea shop. The old world had ended long ago, leaving behind weapons that were now used to awaken powers in people when they turned 18. But details about the old world's history were rare, and only the rich in the inner city seemed to know more.
His gaze drifted toward Nyra. Doesn't she know anything? She's from the inner city.
Sensing his stare, Nyra spoke " I've never heard of Brelton"
'Can she still see me in this darkness? '
Zen frowned, unsure if she was being honest or not. Before he could ask Zara, Zara spoke up.
"I've never heard of Brelton either," Zara admitted. "And even if information about it exists, we don't have access to that kind of info." She looked back at Zen "And why do you even think this child is from the old world?" again giving him that 'are you stupid?' look.
Hmm the old world came to an end thousands of years ago. Are there still places where people name their territories like they did back then? Zen wondered.
"Do you know why your papa tied you here?" Zara asked, her tone soft but probing.
The boy shook his head. "No, I don't know."
Zara pressed further. "Did your papa talk about anything else?"
The boy frowned, thinking for a moment. "No," he said, then suddenly his eyes widened. "Oh!" He exclaimed, as if he'd just remembered something. "He talked to someone in the room. He was shouting about... Tivar. He was so loud that I woke up and started crying."
Tivar? Is that a place? A person? Zen thought
Zara kept her voice calm as she asked, "What do you usually do after your papa wakes you up?"
The boy shrugged slightly, his tone casual. "We eat breakfast, I take a bath, and then I go to school with Papa."
School? Zen's brows furrowed. Is something wrong with this kid's hea—
Tak Tak Tak Tak
The sound of footsteps echoed sharply, breaking Zen's train of thought.
"Shh!" Zara whispered, gesturing to the boy to stay silent.
Creak
The trapdoor above them opened, its rusty hinges groaning.
Nyra took out a knife from her pocket, gripping it tightly.
Zara's lips began to move as she mumbled something under her breath.
Zen, staying as quiet as possible, positioned himself behind Nyra with measured steps.
Nyra turned off the torch, leaving the room in darkness. She moved quietly toward the stairs and hid behind a wooden pillar, leaving Zen in the shadows.
Soon, four men entered the room. They held an oil lamp and two torches, the light flickering on the walls.
The lamp lit up the room, showing Zen, Zara, and the boy.
The men stopped, their faces full of shock.
Before they could say anything, Zara raised her hands. "We don't mean any harm," she said "We heard the boy's screams and came to help."
Two men behind the guy with the lamp pulled out revolvers from their waist and coats. Both aimed their weapons at Zen and Zara.
The man standing beside the one holding the lamp ordered.
"Don't move! Who are you-"
Before he could finish fast footsteps echoed as Nyra appeared from his left, kicking him hard in the chest. He flew back, crashing onto the ground.
The two men behind the lamp-holder, startled, quickly turned their revolvers toward Nyra.
Seeing the fight break out, Zen ran. But instead of heading toward Nyra, he ran to Zara.
One of the men fired his revolver, but Nyra grabbed his wrist, forcing the gun upward. The shot missed, echoing in the room. She followed up with a sharp punch to his face, and with a sickening crack his jaw broke.
Tak Tak Tak Tak Tak Tak
More footsteps echoed from above. More people were coming down the stairs.
The second man aimed his revolver at Nyra's head. His finger tightened on the trigger, ready to shoot.
"Don't move!"
The loud shout froze everyone as they turned to see where the voice came from.
Zen stood there, holding the child by the neck "Or I'll break his neck" his voice cold.