MISSION 101
After opening the door and stepping out of the room, Hale opened a passage. One so huge he felt like he stood in the middle of an open road.
'So much for a manor.'
Hale brushed his ears.
The bustling noise from the south door made him frown. However, realizing that the entire HellStriders would be there, a grin surfaced.
Walking past doors at each side of the wall, Hale found his excitement peaking and goosebumps rise on his skin.
In a rush, he tried to push onto the door but paused mid-motion.
"Since when did I start acting this rash?"
He frowned a little and stepped back.
Lately he had been acting out of character, and now, it almost pushed him into a fatal mistake.
Still figuring out his thoughts, he supported his lower jaw—or at least, a golden steel semblance of the body part with his palm.
Through decades of being a witness for his god, Turpin had had rough battles.
And one of them had resulted in his entire lower jaw being ripped off.
To the end, so he would retain his speech, he could only undergo an advanced alchemy process that left him with this metal jaw.
But that wasn't the current problem.
From Turpin's memories, if he was to step into this room, he should be irritated.
Turpin hated the room beyond those doors, and the HellStriders were long aware of it.
To step into it now?
Hale resented the thought.
And in his current state, acting out of character was the least thing to do.
'I guess I would have to find something else to do.'
'Practice the magic?'
Hale felt his heart beat against his chest.
Gazing into his brittle palms, his mind recalled one of Turpin's memories.
***
It was a forest ground, dense with towering trees and a brown sand obscured by the sun-touched bush.
Opposite him stood a man, his glare affirmative and not a hint of fear on his face.
His right palm held an elegant longsword whose blue hue reflected the rays of sunlight.
Meanwhile, Turpin had only breathed anger from his gaze so abominable the forest silenced under its might.
His hands were coated with a ball of orange-red flames, their radiating heat shrinking the weeds around him.
——
The memory was long, but those were just enough to cause a smile on Hale's cheeks.
'Who exactly don't want magic.'
Hale waved his hands in the air, so lost in thought he didn't realize himself hooked under a smile.
The night was young, and all, or at least most of the HellStriders gathered behind those doors.
He turned around, quickly leaving behind whatever would happen behind.
'Couldn't I spare some time and visit the outside?'
'Figure out the magic hands perhaps?'
Hale felt his heart tighten, and sequentially, his gaze fell on the opposite door in front.
"Better to figure my way around than jump down my room window."
Hale assured himself, his steps quick but stealth as he headed for the door.
Walking past the door, he opened into the ground that led down a great flight of stairs.
Beyond the petrifying elegance, the giant portrait of men and women hanging on the wall caught his heart.
The tusks and horns of whatever creatures that filled this world sat on their own precious embed.
Stamped either in frames to the wall or sitting on their quartz stands.
For a second, his brain explored the parts of the giant room, absorbing the details so much he forgot about his mission.
Hale felt every right to suck in this atmosphere.
Back on Earth, except from the average bungalow the two people who birthed him owned, he'd never tasted the littlest of wealth.
Or the grandeur of luxury.
He thought the idea of wealth and extravagance was somewhat... shitty.
Only titles dignified people made for themselves.
For Hale, the idea of having a good hideout and good food was enough.
However, seeing himself swim in this luxury, he realized it might have been his mediocre past speaking.
Of course, a man would chastise what he didn't have. Just so he would feel better for himself.
Finally, Hale had awoken himself from his awe, only to realize he already stood in front of one of the grand paintings.
"So much for imagination," Hale sighed, his fingers caressing the rough surface of the portrait.
He admired the lady in it.
She wore leather coats and a beret over her full head of black hair.
Like a soldier molded from decades of battle, her crimson gaze looked to glint past the painting.
The color had reminded Hale of his past days on Earth. When he was mostly bathed in the blood of his victims— people who just never followed his rules.
Though for some reason, those of his parents flipped past his mind first.
"She must have an eye problem."
Hale walked off with a shrug.
After all, a red iris wasn't a very normal trait for a person.
Pacing nonchalantly towards the door at the front, Hale paused, his eyes fixed on a lock of chains around the knob.
"Don't tell me it's locked?"
His voice broke out, mostly a murmur with his gaze unrelenting on the door.
Looking around made his vision blur a bit. Too many doors he felt he could pass out upon any second.
He could try to explore each of them from this moment, however, it would probably take the whole night to do so.
Of which he did not have.
'Jumping down a window might just be the good enough try.'
Hale gazed at the windows in the room, too high he would barely reach even if he was standing over a grand piano.
"No way there."
Upon the disappointment, he mostly wanted to return to his room.
Figure out this situation he found himself in.
Yet, only the rush that wanted him to explore what a world Norvenia could be pulsated his nerves.
Just it wasn't enough to help him outside this room.
Ready to exit the premises, Hale's gaze fell to one of the curtains hanging from the high windows.
For a moment, he thought he saw the curtain shuffle.
And to imagine, it bulged a bit too much from the wall.
It could be the unfamiliar thickness of the curtain, but he just couldn't let it go.
"Don't tell me I've been spied on?"
Quickly climbing down from the staircases, Hale headed straight for the curtain, turning it open with the least hesitation.
However hoping he would see nothing than a pale wall, Hale soon stood opposite a young man, his posture almost cowering as he felt the curtain brush past his skin.
The latter didn't stare at Hale, instead tightening his eyes shut and his body so shaky Hale thought there might be an earthquake.
Hale didn't speak. Only his gaze fixed on the lad as he made heavy breaths —ones that made it clear he stood before the lad.
'Whoever this was, he had to find a way to get rid of him.'