The polished marble floors of the mall reflected the bright overhead lights, casting a warm glow over the sea of shops and eateries that lined its broad expanse. The hum of activity echoed through the cavernous space, a living symphony of conversations, laughter, and soft music floating out from the storefronts. Evander, a figure of distinct intrigue among the regular patrons, treaded on this polished surface, his poised strides leaving a trail of murmurs and hushed whispers in his wake.
His attire, while simple, held an air of elegance about it. A well-fitted shirt that hugged his muscular frame just right, paired with dark trousers that complemented his tall physique. He was clean and well-groomed, his dark hair styled with careful nonchalance. The man who'd returned last night from the grit and grime of the outer city was no more, replaced by this fresh, appealing figure. His transformation hadn't gone unnoticed, but thankfully his absence had.
He checked his watch, the metallic band glinting under the warm lights. It was half past eleven. His destination was the imposing structure of the police station, situated near the entrance of the mall. Its granite facade, patterned with columns and tinted glass windows, made for a stark contrast against the welcoming aesthetics of the mall. The walk towards it was a path of exposure, a journey under the watchful eyes of the mall's patrons.
As he strolled along the wide corridor, clusters of women turned their heads, their conversations stuttering into silence. They regarded him with wide-eyed fascination, their gazes sweeping over him, sizing him up. Some pairs of eyes held shock, others admiration, and yet others something akin to disbelief. The sight of a well-dressed, handsome man was such a rarity that they watched him as if they were witnessing the unveiling of a long-lost masterpiece.
Murmured comments floated in his direction, whispered words of appreciation intermingled with hushed exclamations. "Look at him!" "So handsome!" "Have you ever seen a man like that?" The chatter buzzed around him like a swarm of bees, each word prickling his self-awareness.
I must look like a showpiece, Evander thought, a wry smile twitching at the corners of his lips. His new appearance was drawing far more attention than his earlier gaunt figure had. He'd thought dressing well would be appropriate for the day, but this felt like being thrust onto a stage under glaring spotlights. It was unnerving, yes, but also amusing in its own peculiar way.
With a silent chuckle, he continued his walk, letting the wide-eyed stares and hushed whispers wash over him. He would reach the police station soon, and then the real show would begin. His thoughts swirled around Arckit and the day that lay ahead, leaving the buzzing crowd of the mall behind him.
The facade of the police station transitioned into an interior that exuded an atmosphere of stern authority. Within the confines of its tall, solid walls, lines of protective magical inscriptions were etched onto the grey floor tiles. They were precise and intricate, glowing with a faint, pulsating blue light that whispered of power held in check. The enchantments imbued an aura of intense security, as if an invisible shield was thrown around the entire structure.
The reception area was an island of calm amid the sea of magical inscriptions, its large wooden counter gleaming under the overhead lights. Behind this counter sat a woman, a police sergeant by her uniform, engrossed in the contents of her packed lunch. Clad in a dark blue uniform, the metallic emblems on her chest shone in stark contrast, denoting rank and duty. Her belt was studded with a series of pouches, each containing magical weapons and tools of her trade.
Her attention was ensnared by the meal in front of her, the crisp lettuce and slices of bread cradled in her gloved hands more appealing than the mundane duties of reception. The sudden creaking sound of the entrance door opening failed to draw her eyes from her lunch.
A low, annoyed grunt escaped her as she chewed, her eyes still on her food. "What do you want?" she questioned, her voice heavy with the disruption of her peaceful mealtime. The indifference in her tone was akin to a splash of cold water, a stark departure from the awed whispers and wide-eyed stares that had trailed Evander through the mall.
Summoning a polite smile, Evander approached the counter, his steps echoing in the silent reception. He locked eyes with the sergeant, his gaze steady and purposeful.
"I need to arrange for a friend to gain access to the safe area," he declared, the words reverberating in the silence that filled the room. His voice, calm and assured, clashed with the sergeant's dismissive attitude.
The woman sergeant’s surprise was palpable, her eyebrows leaping towards her hairline as the sandwich she held paused mid-way to her mouth. For a moment, the air around her seemed to freeze as she studied him with sharp, assessing eyes. Recovering swiftly, she carefully placed her sandwich back onto the wrapper, brushing off the crumbs from her gloved hands onto the counter.
"Let me get this straight," she began, her tone wavering between incredulity and curiosity, "You want to bring a friend from the city into the safe zone?"
Evander nodded in affirmation, a warm smile spreading across his face. But it only seemed to deepen the lines of doubt on her forehead, her eyes narrowing into slits.
"And how, pray tell, did you meet someone outside the safe zone?" She asked, her voice laced with suspicion. The directness of her question caught Evander off guard. His heart pounded against his rib cage, a rapid drumbeat that echoed his rising anxiety.
In an attempt to appear nonchalant, he met her piercing gaze with a look of pure innocence, quickly disguising his unease. His reply was an indistinct mumble, his words lost in the silent reception area. Evander carefully played the part of a shy man, mumbling just loud enough for the sergeant to catch his intent but too soft for her to glean any details.
"I, uh, um," he stammered, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink under her skeptical gaze, "I've read... that it's... um... my right to request a visitor."
The police sergeant contemplated his statement, her frown softening slightly. It was clear that his request was unusual, and it stirred a cloud of unease within her.
"Yes, it is your right to request a visitor," she admitted grudgingly, "But I must say, in all my years of service, I've never heard of a man making such a request." Her words hung in the air, a testament to the unique predicament that Evander had brought before her.
Her initial shock beginning to fade, the police sergeant assumed a more professional demeanor. She pushed aside the remains of her lunch with a resigned sigh, her gaze lingering on the half-eaten sandwich with a pang of regret. Then, with a flick of her wrist, a shimmering, three-dimensional holographic screen materialized in front of her. It flickered to life, casting a soft, azure glow onto her stern features.
Evander watched as she typed his details with nimble fingers, the translucent keyboard responding to her touch with a soft hum. As Arckit's details and image appeared on the screen, the image flickering with life-like detail, the sergeant looked at him for confirmation.
"This is the person you are vouching for?" she inquired, her brows knitted in a frown as she scanned Arckit's details.
Evander affirmed with a nod, "Yes, that's her."
The officer raised an eyebrow at his confirmation, a mirthless chuckle escaping her lips. "Never thought I'd see the day a gutter rat would be invited into the safe zone," she muttered more to herself than him, but the words carried through the silence of the room.
Evander's eyes narrowed slightly at the pejorative comment. However, he held his tongue, maintaining his composure. His gaze shifted from the officer back to the screen, where Arckit's image was being scrutinized.
"I insist on her entry," he stated firmly, his words piercing the ambient quietness of the room.
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The sergeant gave him a long look, her eyes measuring him. He could almost see the wheels turning in her mind as she debated the course of action. Eventually, she sighed, her fingers resuming their dance over the ethereal keyboard.
"All right," she acquiesced, her tone betraying a hint of wariness. "But be warned, she must remain in your company at all times. She has no standing within the safe zone, you understand?"
Her words were a stark reminder of the rigid societal structure he found himself navigating.
A sudden crash reverberated throughout the police station, causing Evander to startle. The reception area door, leading deeper into the station, flew open with a cacophonous thud. A policewoman, markedly different from the sergeant, marched into the room. A broad grin spread across her face, lighting up her sharp features.
"Would you believe it, Sarge," she began, her voice thick with amusement, "I've got a woman on the other side insisting some man invited her in here." She made no attempt to disguise her skepticism, her words drawing a surprised look from her superior.
When the officer's eyes fell on Arckit's image on the holographic screen, she let out a laugh that echoed in the room's vastness, her disbelief evident. "Well, I'll be... Arckit? A rat from the outer city?" she mused. "Guess pigs really do fly."
The sergeant merely jerked a thumb toward the screen where Arckit's data was displayed, a grim smile playing on her lips. There was an unspoken acknowledgment of the unusual scenario that seemed to amuse the officers.
Evander felt a ripple of annoyance at their degrading remarks about Arckit, but he held his peace. Remember the objective, he reminded himself.
"Man, would you kindly follow me, please?" The jovial officer gestured to Evander. Her tone was respectful, a stark contrast to her previous rudeness. He was led through a maze of bleak corridors and into a small, functional room.
As Evander stepped into the stark room, Arckit was already there, perched on a sterile metal chair. The room was suffused with the harsh white light of the overhead fluorescents, painting her in sharp relief. Her vibrant eyes, embers against her complexion, simmered with annoyance as she crossed swords with the uniformed officer before her.
Across the room, Evander watched, a silent observer. The dichotomy of their treatment wasn't lost on him. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening as he wrestled with his emotions. A wave of anger washed over him, its heat searing his insides. But he held it in, his face as smooth as a tranquil pond on a windless day.
The officer's voice sliced through the sterile silence of the room, her questions hitting their mark with surgical precision. "Why did you come here?" she asked, her eyes narrowing into slits as she scanned Arckit from head to toe.
Arckit met the officer's gaze with unwavering defiance, her chin tilted upward in a show of resilience. "I was invited, if you must know," she responded, her voice laced with acerbity, "Or is that not a thing in your fancy safe zone?"
The officer raised an eyebrow, but Arckit's retort didn't seem to faze her. "And what exactly are your intentions?" she asked, leaning forward in her seat, the challenge clear in her eyes.
Arckit leaned back in her chair, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she shot back, "My, aren't we presumptuous? Do you ask all your visitors about their 'intentions,' or do I get special treatment?" Her tone was light, almost playful, but there was a hardness in her eyes that spoke volumes about her resilience.
The sharp banter continued, the officer's pointed questions met with Arckit's quicksilver replies. The tension in the room was thick, tangible, like a shroud that threatened to suffocate them all. And through it all, Evander remained silent, his stoic facade betraying none of his internal turmoil, his gaze fixed on the fiery woman who was holding her own against the incisive onslaught.
Eventually, when they seemed satisfied with her responses, one of them produced a bracelet. It was an unassuming thing, just a slim, metallic band, but Evander knew it held potent magic. The officer affixed it around Arckit's wrist, a final, tangible symbol of the 'privilege' she had been granted.
"Now listen up," one of the officers addressed Arckit with a stern voice, her eyes hard and unforgiving. "This bracelet marks you as a visitor. You must behave accordingly. Any transgressions will result in immediate expulsion, and you could face serious charges. Do you understand?"
As the cold doors of the interrogation room slid open, a wave of warm, humid air rushed in, the scent of fresh pastries from a nearby bakery wafting in with it. Stepping out, Evander and Arckit were instantly swallowed by the bustling hubbub of the safe zone mall, a far cry from the sterile interrogation room they had just exited.
Is she okay after that ordeal? Evander wondered, his gaze flickering over to Arckit, who was busy taking in the sights and sounds of the mall. With a gentle prod, he voiced his concern, his eyes focused on her face. "Are you alright?" he asked, his tone cautious, as if he were testing the waters.
A small grin stretched across her lips, her vibrant eyes meeting his in reassurance. "That? Pff, it was nothing. The main thing is, I'm here now," she dismissed, her tone light, yet there was an undercurrent of relief that echoed his own sentiments.
As they moved through the bustling mall, Evander found his gaze drifting to her attire. The transformation was subtle, yet it stood out against the opulence of their surroundings. Gone was her usual punk-ish garb, replaced by a simple, yet elegantly casual dress that hugged her figure in all the right places. It was understated, yet it accentuated her natural grace, making her stand out amidst the array of expensively-dressed women.
She's dressed up for this, Evander realized, a slow smile spreading across his face. The dress, although not as ostentatious as the attire of the women around them, had a charm of its own. It suited her, it felt genuine. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a murmur as he whispered in her ear, "You look really nice today, Arckit."
The effect was instant. Her cheeks flushed a vibrant shade of pink, a stark contrast to her skin. She stammered out a thank you, her surprise evident in her wide eyes. The blush on her cheeks deepened as she noticed the envious stares from the women around them, their gazes drifting between Evander and her. Yet, amidst the sea of glances and murmurs, Evander only had eyes for her, a fact that only served to deepen her blush and widen her smile.
The dazzling arrays of clothing stores, electronic shops, and fine jewelers stretched out before them, each display more opulent than the last. As they moved through the bustling mall, Evander noted Arckit's wide-eyed fascination, her gaze darting from one store to another.
She must feel like a fish out of water, he thought, his heart clenching at her visible unease.
With a reassuring smile, he suggested, "How about we do a little shopping? I don't know about you, but I could use a new shirt."
Arckit's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her gaze flickering between Evander and the extravagant storefronts surrounding them. "Are you kidding?" she laughed, incredulity lacing her tone. "There's no way I could afford anything in this place!"
Evander's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Who said anything about you paying? I have some money, and I don't mind covering the costs," he offered, his tone nonchalant.
Her eyes widened, shock apparent on her face as she leaned in closer. "But it's not... it's not for men to pay," she stuttered out, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
Evander shrugged, undeterred by her hesitation. "I'd like to," he insisted. "If it's not too much trouble."
The look of surprise on her face gradually melted into a warm smile, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she nodded in acceptance. "Well, if you insist ... you do own me for the information last night."
The sprawling grandeur of the mall enveloped them as they began their expedition. Meandering through the sea of shoppers, they dived in and out of countless boutiques, the symphony of chatter and rustling shopping bags filling the air. Each store was an explosion of colors and fabrics, their shelves brimming with diverse arrays of clothes.
Arckit was the one navigating through the labyrinth of fashion, her eyes lighting up with delight as she sifted through the racks. She picked out a multitude of items, from blouses and skirts to scarves and accessories. Evander couldn't help but mirror her excitement, the thrill of witnessing her joy was infectious.
With every selection she made, she would turn to him, holding the chosen piece up with a questioning look. A simple nod from him, coupled with a warm smile, would ignite a spark in her eyes. Each time the cashier rang up an item, Evander willingly reached for his money stone, paying for each piece with a sense of contentment. The sound of the cash register, a rhythmic symphony that underscored their little adventure, made him grin with satisfaction.
Watching Arckit in her element, her joy infusing the air around them, he knew there was no other place he'd rather be. The anticipation in her eyes as she picked out her choices, her happiness when he approved, and the triumphant smile she wore as they left each store made every penny he spent worthwhile.
"Hey, what do you think about this one?" he'd ask, holding up a dress or a blouse, looking to Arckit for her opinion. And even when she looked unsure, he'd encourage her, "Try it on. You'd look amazing."
But as the hours passed, a bitter realization dawned on him. The shop attendants, clad in their chic, fashionable outfits, treated him with a strange mix of condescension and courtesy. They'd laugh a bit too loudly at his jokes, offer assistance he didn't require, and pat him on the shoulder as if he were a lost little boy in a candy store.
Contrarily, their demeanor towards Arckit was disdainful, if not outright disrespectful. They threw her covert glares, whispered snide comments under their breaths, and were quick to dismiss her opinions.
The stark contrast gnawed at him, a growing annoyance dampening his previous enthusiasm. When he'd had enough of their subtle jibes, he squared his shoulders and raised his voice, "I believe my friend here deserves the same respect and courtesy you've given me."
His words echoed through the store, but they seemed to have little impact on the saleswomen. They gave a collective dismissive laugh, shrugging off his rebuke as if it were a mere jest.