The faint light of dawn seeped into the sewer tunnel, casting long shadows across the damp walls. Water trickled somewhere in the distance, the sound echoing softly as Leon leaned against the cold stone.
Elys sat on a narrow ledge above the sluggish stream, her head down, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her tunic. She hadn't said much since Arial left, and Leon couldn't ignore how tense she seemed.
"You alright?" he asked.
Elys flinched but didn't look up. "I'm fine," she muttered, though her tone didn't match the words.
Leon frowned, stepping closer. "No, you're not. You've been off since that woman showed up." He stopped in front of her, arms crossed. "Do you know something about her? About Confessors?"
Elys hesitated, her shoulders stiffening. "I… not really," she said, her voice shaky.
Leon's expression hardened. "Not really? That doesn't sound convincing." He crouched slightly to meet her eyes. "Elys, don't hold back. If you know anything, now's the time."
She stayed silent, avoiding his gaze, her hands gripping her tunic tighter. Leon sighed and crouched beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"You know the reason I purchased you was to save you," he said, his tone firm but calm. "I'm not used to this slave market business, but when I saw the people bidding for you... I knew your fate wouldn't be good if they won. That's why I did it."
His voice softened. "And yet, you're still not honest with me."
At his words, Elys flinched and bit her lip, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"I…" She broke off as her voice cracked, tears spilling over. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him as quiet sobs shook her.
Leon didn't pull away, his hand staying on her shoulder as the sound of her cries echoed in the cold, damp tunnel. He waited, letting her take the time she needed. Eventually, her sobs subsided, and she leaned back slightly, her face still buried against his chest.
"I know… a little, not much," she murmured, her voice muffled.
Leon stayed still for a moment longer, then gently tilted her chin up so he could meet her tear-streaked face. "Alright," he said softly, his tone steady. "Tell me what you know. Even if it's just a little."
Elys hesitated, her fingers clutching his sleeve like it was her lifeline. "I… I used to be part of a noble family," she admitted, her voice trembling. "Before I was caught and sold as a slave."
Leon's eyes widened slightly. A noblewoman? He glanced at her, studying her features more closely. It made sense now—the way she carried herself, her refined features.
"But what does that have to do with the Confessors?" Leon asked, his voice steady but probing.
Elys glanced away, her shoulders hunching as her voice faltered. "They work for the Empire… but not like knights or soldiers. I've heard they deal with things no one else can handle—things normal people shouldn't even know about." Her voice dropped to a whisper, her tone weighed down by unease. "Confessors deal with… things that aren't natural."
Leon raised an eyebrow, his skepticism clear. "And I'm guessing my rifle falls into that category?"
Elys nodded hesitantly. "I don't know," she admitted, her fingers twisting the fabric of her tunic.
He looked back at Elys, her nervous posture making her seem smaller. She wasn't meeting his eyes, her hands still fidgeting. Trying to lighten the mood, he reached out and ruffled her hair gently, earning a startled look from her.
"So," he said with a teasing grin, "you're a noble lady, huh? Guess I need to treat you like one."
Elys blinked at him, confusion flickering in her eyes. "What?"
"Yeah," Leon continued, a playful tone creeping into his voice. "Should I be bowing when I speak to you? Address you as 'my lady'? Maybe carry you around so you don't have to step in all this muck?"
Her cheeks flushed, and for the first time in hours, she let out a quiet laugh—soft and fleeting but genuine. "Stop it," she murmured, her voice still shaky but less burdened.
Leon's grin softened. "Look," he said, his tone turning more serious, "I'm not going to push you to tell me everything about your past. That's your story to share when you're ready. But just know, whenever you feel like talking, I'm here."
Elys's gaze finally met his, her eyes glistening with a mix of gratitude and lingering sadness. She gave him a small nod. "Thank you," she whispered.
Leon rose to his feet and extended a hand to her. She hesitated for only a moment before taking it, letting him pull her up.
As they continued walking through the tunnel, the faint echoes of their footsteps filling the silence, Leon's mind churned with possibilities. Arial's presence, the Confessors, Elys's connection to the Empire—it all felt like pieces of a puzzle he wasn't sure he wanted to solve.
The sewer tunnel eventually opened into a crumbling staircase leading upward. The dim light of early morning filtered through a grate above, casting streaks of pale gold onto the damp stone walls.
Leon glanced up and gestured toward the light. "Looks like we're finally getting out of this rat hole. Stay close."
Elys nodded, following him as he climbed the steps. As Leon pushed open the grate, the cold morning air hit them like a wave, carrying with it the faint scent of wet earth and wood smoke.