As Lucien walked into the inn, he noticed a hooded figure sitting alone at a table near the fire. The figure's face was hidden in the shadows of the hood, and Lucien couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity.
"Mind if I join you?" Lucien asked, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in his stomach.
The hooded figure slowly looked up, its face still hidden in the shadows. Lucien's heart quickened as he wondered if this was the mysterious man he had been searching for.
"I've been looking for you," Lucien said, his voice low and even.
The hooded figure remained silent, its gaze fixed on Lucien. The air was thick with tension as Lucien waited for a response.
Just as the hooded figure seemed about to speak, a young boy with impeccable attire and an air of confidence walked into the inn. He was about 10 years old, with neatly combed black hair and piercing eyes that seemed to command attention.
The boy's eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on Lucien sitting with the hooded figure, he moved with incredible speed, his sword flashing in the firelight. Before Lucien could even react, the boy had pinned him against the table, the sword pressed against his throat.
"Who are you?" the boy demanded, his voice firm and commanding. "What are you doing talking to my sister?"
Lucien's eyes darted back and forth, searching for an escape. But the boy's sword remained pressed against his throat, and Lucien knew he was trapped.
"If you don't answer me," the boy said, his voice dripping with malice, "I'll kill you right here. You'll be just another forgotten soul in this dirty inn."
Lucien's heart racing, he felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He was starting to panic, his mind racing with thoughts of death and desperation.
"P-please," Lucien stuttered, trying to push the boy's sword away from his throat. "I don't know who I'm looking for. At least, I don't know their name. But I have to find them. It's really important."
The boy's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing. "Don't lie to me," he spat, his voice venomous. "You're not even a good liar. Who is it? Tell me, or I'll kill you right here."
Lucien shook his head frantically, trying to convey his sincerity. "I'm not lying, I swear! I really don't know who I'm looking for. But I have to find them. Please, you have to believe me!"
The boy's expression didn't change, his eyes still cold and menacing. "I don't believe you," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "And even if I did, it wouldn't matter. You're still a threat to my sister's safety. And I won't let anyone harm her."
Just as the boy was about to take action, the hooded figure raised their hand, signaling for him to stop. The boy's eyes flicked to the hooded figure, and he hesitated for a moment before slowly lowering his sword.
The hooded figure pushed back its hood, revealing a young woman of unparalleled beauty. Her face was a masterpiece of delicate features, with high cheekbones, a petite nose, and lips that curved like a rose in bloom. Her skin was a radiant canvas of creamy porcelain, illuminated by the warm glow of the fire. Her eyes, like two glittering emeralds, sparkled with a soft, ethereal light that seemed to mesmerize Lucien.
As he gazed upon her face, Lucien felt his breath catch in his throat. He was struck by the sheer poetry of her beauty, as if the very stars had conspired to create a masterpiece of elegance and refinement.
"Let him go, Nazou," the woman said, her voice low and husky, like the gentle purring of a contented cat. "I think we can handle this situation without resorting to violence."
The boy, Nazou, looked uncertain for a moment, but then he nodded and sheathed his sword. Lucien let out a sigh of relief as Nazou stepped back, his eyes still fixed warily on Lucien.
The woman turned to Lucien, her eyes narrowing. "So, you're looking for someone," she said. "But you don't know who they are. That's quite a story. I'm not sure I believe you."
The woman's eyes seemed to bore into Lucien's soul, as if searching for any hint of deception. But after a moment, her expression softened, and she nodded.
"I believe you," she said, her voice gentle. "You're not lying. But I have to ask, what makes you think you can find this person?"
Lucien took a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "I...I don't know," he admitted. "But I have to try. The only hint I have is...the church."
The woman's eyes flickered with interest, and she glanced at the boy. "The church?" she repeated. "Which one?"
Lucien hesitated for a moment before answering. "St. Michael's Church," he said.
The woman's expression turned thoughtful, and she nodded. "I know where that is," she said. "It's on the other side of town. You can't miss it."
Lucien nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards the mysterious woman. "Thank you," he said.
The woman nodded, her eyes still wary. "Be careful," she said.
Lucien nodded and stood up, his eyes locked on the woman's face for a moment before he turned and walked away.
As Lucien walked out of the inn, he couldn't shake off the feeling that his encounter with the mysterious woman and her brother had been more than just a coincidence. There was something about them that seemed...off. But he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.
He pushed the thought aside and focused on finding St. Michael's Church. The woman's directions had been clear, and he had no trouble navigating the winding streets of the town.
As he walked, the buildings around him grew older and more ornate, their stone facades weathered to a soft, golden brown. The air was thick with the scent of incense and old books, and Lucien felt a sense of peace settle over him.
Finally, he turned a corner and caught sight of the church's towering spire, its stone walls glowing softly in the fading light. As soon as he laid eyes on the church, Lucien's heart began to race, pounding in his chest like a drum. His stigma, the mysterious mark on his hand, began to glow with an intense, pulsing light.
Lucien's eyes widened in surprise as he felt a surge of energy course through his body. He didn't know what was happening, but he felt an inexplicable connection to the church, as if it held the key to unlocking the secrets of his past.
With a sense of trepidation, Lucien approached the church, his eyes fixed on the glowing stigma on his hand. As he pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside, the cool, quiet air enveloped him, and Lucien felt a sense of wonder wash over him.