Ar looked at Mother Laila's back as she walked slowly into the room, holding the hands of five orphanage children who were still sobbing. Mother Laila's eyes were full of tenderness, though her face looked tired. A mother's strength for children who were not her own flesh and blood.
"Can you clean it yourself? Mother can't leave the others," said Mother Laila, her voice soft but slightly trembling. She looked at Ar and Clau with a smile that tried to calm them as she stroked their heads.
"It's okay, Mother. We'll clean it up," Ar replied calmly. He smiled a small smile that always made the old woman feel relieved.
Ar knew that the smile was more than just an expression of calm. The smile was a way to reassure others, to give hope in the midst of uncertainty. That smile, he thought, was something even Baron Bartemus would never be able to take away from him.
Mother Laila nodded slowly, stroking their heads once more before she walked away, carrying the orphanage children who were still trembling with fear. Ar stared at him for a moment, making sure that Mother Laila had actually entered the room, before he sighed softly.
He bent down and began to pick up the pieces of glass scattered on the floor. The shards were sharp, some of them still had dried blood stains, traces of the chaos they had witnessed earlier that afternoon. His fingers moved carefully, placing each glass into the small trash can in the corner of the room.
"Clau, get me a broom," Ar said without turning around.
"Yes, brother."
Clau's footsteps could be heard, moving away and then coming closer. She appeared with a broom in her hand and began to clean up the small pieces that Ar's fingers had missed. The two worked in silence, only the sound of the broom scraping the wooden floor could be heard.
Finally, Clau broke the silence. "Brother," she said softly, her voice trembling as if she were about to cry.
Ar stopped picking up glass and turned to find Clau standing there, hugging the broom handle with tears in his eyes.
"What are we going to do? I don't want to leave here," Clau said quietly, her voice almost drowned out by the silence of the night.
Ar looked at his sister with an aching heart. Clau, who had always been gentle and rarely complained, now stood before him with a fear he could not hide. Without thinking, Ar reached out and gently stroked Clau's head.
"Don't worry," he said, his voice calm even though his heart was in turmoil. "We will still live here. I promise."
The words were simple, but full of conviction. Like a promise he would never break. Clau nodded slowly, lowering her head as if to hide her tears.
That night, Ar felt that the Floressia District was cold and silent. The street lamps cast a dim light, creating long shadows in the narrow alleys that were mostly inhabited by Ethels. The place might be simple, but for Ar it was home.
In the room, the children of the orphanage finally fell asleep after their cries had subsided. Mother Laila, who had spent the night soothing them, now sat in a chair near the door, her eyes closed, her face showing deep fatigue.
Ar stood in front of the bedroom window and looked at the dark shadows outside. He knew that this afternoon's incident was only the beginning. Baron Bartemus would not stop, and the Floressia District would remain the target of the Kaeliths' greed.
His red eyes glanced at the bunk bed above him, making sure Clau was fast asleep. Hearing his sister's slow, steady breathing made him feel a little relieved, even though his mind was still racing.
The thugs Baron Bartemus had sent had gone too far. Their attack this afternoon had frightened the orphans and wounded their fragile souls. Ar clenched his fists and felt cold rage spread through his body. He knew that if they didn't do something, life in this orphanage would continue to be haunted by threats and fear.
Silently, he had made a choice. He couldn't let Mother Laila and the orphans continue to be victims. It was time for him to act.
Ar rose carefully from his bed, trying not to make a sound that might wake the other residents. He pulled on his old black cloak, pulling the hood over his head to hide his face. A long stick he always used for hunting was slung across his back. The stick was more than just a tool; inside it was a sharp and deadly sword.
After making sure everyone was asleep, he walked to the back door. His breathing was slow, almost inaudible, as he pushed open the wooden door, which creaked slightly. The cool night air greeted him, gently caressing his face.
But before he could go any further, a familiar voice stopped him.
"Brother!"
Ar turned his head quickly, even though he already knew who had called him. In the doorway stood Clau with a red face, either from the cold or from anger. The black robe, too big for his small body, dragged slightly on the floor.
"You were going to leave without telling me?" Clau whispered sharply. Her voice trembled, a mixture of anger and fear.
Ar took a deep breath. He smiled slightly and tried to calm his sister. "Clau, go back to your room. It's late."
But Clau didn't move. Instead, he approached her, his face flushing even more in the moonlight. "Why did you go alone? What are you planning? Why didn't you include me in your plans?" she asked urgently, his voice higher than usual.
Ar stood still and watched Clau, who looked at him with hope and fear. He knew that his sister was too smart to be fooled by half-hearted answers. In the end, Clau would find out for herself, and that could be even more dangerous. Ar took a deep breath and decided to be honest.
"You can't do that, Clau. I just want to make sure that everything is safe. You have to stay here, with the others," Ar said quietly, although his voice was firm.
Clau bit her lip, her eyes filled with tears. "I don't want you to go alone, brother. I can help you!"
Ar took a deep breath, deciding to be honest rather than continue arguing with his stubborn brother.
"I will look for him," he said, trying to keep his tone calm. He knew Clau would be worried, but this was the step he had to take. "I want to know what Kaelith is really up to with these thugs, especially about the orphanage. They're trying to take over the building rights that belong to Mother."
Clau stared at him with wide eyes, her face slightly pale. "That is very dangerous. Besides, you know they're Level 3 Channelers. How can you fight them?"
"I have no intention of fighting," Ar replied, his voice soft but with an undeniable seriousness. "But if the situation forces it, I may have no choice but to fight."
Clau bit her lip and looked deep in thought. Though still worried, she seemed to begin to understand that her brother had decided something irreversible. "How are we going to find them?" she asked, trying to suppress the fear that still clung to her mind.
Ar smiled slightly. "I know one of the places they usually hang out. A small pub in this district, a lively place where it's fun to drink at night." His red eyes radiated calm, but there was a mystery behind them that was unusual for a boy his age.
Just as he expected, after watching for a while, Ar saw a tall man with a bat tattoo on his shoulder coming out of the pub. The man was one of the thugs who had attacked the orphanage earlier that day. With slow and careful steps, Ar began to follow the thug from a distance.
Clau, though hesitant at first, followed without a sound. His twin sister's stealth abilities were better than he had expected. She could move as silently as a shadow, which made Ar a little relieved, but still cautious.
The tattooed man walked towards an old building near the riverbank, a place that had long been known as a den of dark activities. No one in the city dared to report it, due to the great influence of Baron Bartemus, the Kaelith figure who controlled the thugs.
Ar and Clau hid behind the dense trees, keeping their distance so as not to be seen. Ar's hood covered his face, revealing only a small glimpse of his piercing eyes. From his position, he could hear rough laughter and chatter from inside the building.
From behind the shadows, Ar peered out and saw five thugs sitting in a circle around a small table. They were the same people who had attacked the orphanage earlier that afternoon. Some of them were holding bottles of wine, laughing and talking in an arrogant tone.
"So, when should we return to the orphanage?" asked one of the men, who was bald and had a scar on his temple.
"In two days," replied a tall man with a thick beard who seemed to be their leader. His voice was deep and heavy, filled with authority. "Mr. Bartemus wants this place vacated before the end of the week. If necessary, we will use force."
Hearing this, Ar's heart beat faster. He clenched his fists tightly, holding back the anger that was boiling in his chest. Two days. They only have two days before the orphanage is in danger again.