…
Feigning a concern, El inquired of the man, "What is the matter, sir? Is something wrong in there?"
"… nothing," said the man, with his expression barely visible under the light of the dim candle. That was the case for most of the time if El were a normal kid. But he wasn't. He could see the former's grim eyes.
"I'm here to tell you something kid. I'm leaving…"
"What? Leaving? Where?" El asked, feeling flustered. He never knew the impact of 'the man' spending time on his side for just a single day could bother him this much.
"I have some trouble at my job. I'll be leaving first thing in the morning," the man said. El couldn't discern any other emotion from his tone. The feeling he conveyed also didn't make much sense to him, as if the man was in a hurry about something. 'Hurry for what exactly?' he didn't know.
"I see. Alright. Is it far?" El asked. Quite concerned for it seems like, the man had come to a change of decision upon noticing the claw mark on the ceiling. It was a huge claw mark with three distinct lines, scratching the surface of the wood. El wondered if it had something to do with it.
"Not really. I'll be away, for, maybe a day or two. The longest will be, for the whole three days," while saying that, the man then reaches out to his pants right pocket, which has some bulge on it. "Here is some money for you. It'll be enough for three days, even if you choose to splurge on it."
The man handed El a small pouch filled with silver coins, which were used throughout the territory of the Ryxhaton Empire as the basic monetary unit and the only valid medium of exchange within the empire. The coin itself was known in the empire as 'Riell', a name derived from a plant called rye, also referred to as, black wheat. The name itself was steeped in history, and El knew about it from a few books he read back in the village.
"Remember this carefully boy!?? Do not ever open the door no matter who you hear from, except if it was from me. Hold on a second, we might need some code or password that only both of us will know about. Follow me!!" taking the burning candle that was attached to a small white ceramic plate in the room – that was positioned on the table, the man then hurriedly walked outside, followed by El who stayed close to him. A bit too close actually, making the man raise his eyebrows in confusion when he found out that El was almost glued to his leg.
-He is not scared alright. Just… a bit wary if something weird will happen again- ("If you were confused about this part that sometimes slipped into the story, it was meant to refer to the knight's note who had written this book on behalf of the so-called 'The Last Paladins.' 'Pretend it existed, alright!")
And then, they arrived at one of the sections in that small house, in an equally small-sized, dusty kitchen that, 'dear God', seemed to have never been used for years.
Drawing closer to one of the kitchen tables, the man approached a peculiar drawer. Its handle, oddly reminiscent of a bag lock, was oval-shaped, akin to an egg. He twisted the handle nine times, the mechanism clicking softly with each rotation. Then, with a deft motion, he pushed left twice and right four times, until a satisfying click signaled that the handle had disengaged from the drawer's surface.
Meanwhile, the man had to open it by grasping the dent on top of the drawer. Subsequently, he leaned in, a candle flickering in the dim light, casting shadows that danced across the walls. El watched awkwardly as the man feigned difficulty in the darkness, his movements exaggerated as if to draw his attention to his struggle.
The man rummaged through the drawer, with his fingers brushing past many objects, until his hand finally stilled. He then withdrew a peculiar glass vial, its triangular shape catching the candlelight in sharp, angular reflections. A small cork sealed its mouth, and within it, a viscous liquid swirled – it was a shade so dark it teetered between black and the deepest crimson. El squinted, unsure if it was the light playing tricks on his eyes or if the substance itself defied an easy description.
The man held the vial up close, his gaze narrowing as he studied it with an intensity that bordered on seriousness and gloominess.
Then, with a sudden, almost careless motion, he gave it (the supposed dangerous liquid), a few brisk shakes that were 'not so gentle in a way'. As the liquid inside sloshed against the glass, El's heart began to jump in his throat as he felt uneasy about what the former had done.
On the other hand, a satisfied grin then tugged at the corners of the man's lips.
"Ah, this will do nicely," the man murmured, his tone laced with a quiet triumph. Moreover, his manner of speaking was distinct from the way he talked beforehand, as though a sense of melancholy lurks at the present situation.
"What is it, sir?"
"This is something that Witches created to expel 'Creatures of the Darkness.' How is it? Are you curious?" the man stated with playful intonation, causing El's interest to grow beyond his comfort zone. How the man spoke was also reverted to how he used to be.
"Witches? So, they are real. I thought it was just a fairytale passed in talk and gossip to scare children," El replied, feeling a bit surreal and mystified at the moment. Even though he once also heard from that man who kidnapped him that night, alongside many books he read with themes such as children's 'fairytale' about magics, he simply thought the word 'Witch,' was just some kind of lame metaphor to quip on someone behind their back.
"Oh, it was surprising for you to think like that. Anyway, let's get back to your bedroom!?"
…