“I don’t think I’ve heard of you,” captain Nahar said, tapping his fingers on the table. “And you seem quite ... inexperienced. I take it you’re a new member of the Dragonslayer’s party?”

“That’s right,” Nentonia replied. “I joined just before this voyage started.”

Nahar seemed intrigued. “I see. And what business do you have with me?”

“I just wanted to ask some questions.”

Nahar’s friendly eyes narrowed into a glare, though his smile remained. “Oh? I don’t mind answer some trivial questions here or there, but you best be careful, girl. Know that I didn’t hire you people to pry.”

Nentonia figured there was something going on with the ship. At first, something smelled familiar when she roamed the ship; an iron-like scent that was enticing and unpleasant at the same time.

It’s true that she was curious about what happened, but that wasn’t what she was here for.

“I don’t care about your secrets, captain. No offense.”

“Not mine, you say? So I take it you’re here for someone else’s?” He said, amused.

“I just wanted to know more about Kalaman, that’s all.”

Nahar’s eyes twitched a bit. “The Dragonslayer’s name is heard far and wide. I’m sure you must know all there is to know about him already. Did you not join his party because you’ve heard of his renown?”

“If we’re talking about his exploits, I’m knowledgeable enough. You can’t go a day in these lands without hearing about him if you go outside. But I don’t want to hear about Kalaman the hero.”

The captain gave her a knowing look. “What do you mean? In my eyes, he’s nothing but Kalaman the hero. And besides, what compels you to think that I’d know more about him than the bards’ songs?”

“A feeling,” Nentonia replied. “He didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d accept any job. He probably gets enough requests as is. Yet, here he is, taking a simple escort request. I also didn’t think that any old regular merchant would just up and hire a hero for a mission as simple as this.”

“Huh.” Nahar seemed slightly impressed. “Well, it’s true that I’ve known Kalaman for a while. We used to travel together, back when he had just become the Dragonslayer. Though, it didn’t last very long, all thanks to an unfortunate blunder I made. But I’m sure you’re not here to hear about me.”

Nentonia nodded. “He’s called the Dragonslayer, but he doesn’t seem to like that name very much. He’s refusing to tell me anything about his exploits, too. I thought heroes were supposed to be proud of their glory.”

“And that’s why you don’t think of him as a hero. I see. Well, even I don’t know much about it. All I know is that he was able to slay a dragon back when he was just a novice adventurer. I don’t know how much of that is true. But there is something interesting that I noticed. See, back when I was ... adventuring with him, I managed to hear that he used to lead a party of his own before he became the Dragonslayer. Considering I never met these people...”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He didn’t finish his sentence, but the thought was clear.

“Something happened to them.” Nentonia asked.

Nahar shrugged. “I wasn’t able to find out anything more. If I did, I’m certain Kalaman would’ve taken an offense to that, in which case I’d be a severed head six feet under the ground long ago. So, as you can see, there really isn’t much I know about the man. After all, the more I knew, the more danger I’d be in.”

“I see.” Nentonia gave a deep bow. “Thank you. I learned a lot from this.”

“Have you now?” Nahar laughed.

Nentonia bid her farewell and left the room.

As she expected. There might’ve been something about Kalaman Kampus that was, in a way, similar to herself.

The only way to find out was to ask the man himself. With the knowledge she has just gained, she could potentially use it to prod a reaction out of him.

She was close to the core of the man they call the Dragonslayer, that was for certain.

†

“Nentonia, what’s wrong with your neck?” Remina asked as the two of them walked the halls together. “I think it’s bruised a little.”

“O-oh, is it?” Nentonia moved her hand to cover it, but at that point it was already too late. “It’s nothing much, really.”

Remina narrowed her eyes. “Was it Kal? I bet it was Kal.”

“Um, no, of course not. I just bumped into a wall, that’s all.”

“Stop, Nen. You’ll make all the professional con artists and liars of the world cry.” Remina sighed. “Sorry ‘bout that, though. He was never the delicate type, even around women. I’ll go and scold him for ya.”

“No need! There’s no need, really!” Nentonia frantically stopped Remina. “Honestly, it’s my fault anyways.”

“Huh? What did you do?”

“I asked about his past, which he didn’t like.”

“...Ah. That’ll do it.” Remina patted Nentonia’s back. “I suggest not pryin’ too deep into his life, to be honest. There’s probably a lot not-very-good stuff in it. He’s had many enemies over the years, you know? Most of ‘em willing to hire assassins and the like.”

Hearing that only made Nentonia more curious. “I see. Alright then,” she said, not meaning a word of it.

“Still, you’ve been hangin’ around him quite a bit, Nen. Mayhaps, you’ve grown fond of the man?” Remina teased.

“...Fond? Of Kalaman?”

Remina laughed. “I jest, I jest.”

She continued talking for a while after that, mostly about trivial things. But Nentonia’s mind was preoccupied by what she said. Fond? Was she fond of Kalaman? Was that what she was feeling? The only experience she had with such things was with Jaysie. Nentonia’s never been interested in a boy before. But maybe that was because she’s never met one that caught her interest.

Was Kalaman that kind of person for her?

The next few days passed, and Nentonia would often see Kalaman walking around, doing whatever it was he did. Patrolling, sitting in his room, standing at the upper deck. The first thing she thought was ... well, how boring his life looks like, only doing that all the time. But she also noticed that she’s been looking towards him a lot lately.

And she also noticed that that was the only thing she had been doing. Looking at him. Thinking about going up and talking to him was nerve-wracking.

She wanted to know more about him. She wanted to understand him. And now that she knew that they were alike in many ways, that desire only grew.

Kalaman was incomplete, just like her. Nentonia saw in him what Jayceran saw in her, way back when. She saw a man incapable of accepting himself ... a man who was afraid of his own sins, his own pain.

As long as he kept running, he will never be complete.

“Oh no...”

She thought to herself as that unnamable emotion woke up from its long slumber, caressing her body, violating it with its overwhelming grip.

“...It’s happening again.”