In the dim light of the moving vehicle, Arckit turned to address the five women who had escorted Evander into this mess. Her voice was a cold whisper, sharp as a knife and every bit as lethal. Her words sliced through the tension-laden air, a blade of reprimand that chilled their very bones.
"You posh idiots," she began, her eyes flashing in the semi-darkness. "Did you really think you could just waltz in there with all your fancy battle magic you learned in your swanky schools and not have a plan?"
Evander felt the sting of her words. It was his reckless plan, his choice to rush in without proper preparation. He opened his mouth to intervene, to shield them from the brunt of Arckit's anger, but her gaze snapped to him before he could utter a single word.
"Women are speaking here," she hissed, a venomous edge lacing her words. "You keep your mouth shut."
Silenced by her stern command, Evander shrunk back, his protestations dying in his throat. He took a moment, his gaze shifting towards the window, watching the world rush by in a dizzying blur of lights and shadows. The vehicle hummed beneath them, a mechanical beast charging through the veins of the city.
They sped along winding roads, the cityscape blurring around them, the night a mosaic of illuminated billboards and glimmering skyscrapers. Soon they found themselves on a highway, the city's metallic forest looming in the distance, drawing closer with every passing second.
The sprawling city center inched closer, its lit-up skyline a stark contrast against the dark abyss of the night.
However, for the moment, cocooned within the humming capsule of their vehicle, there was little he could do but weather the storm of reproof. His voice held captive by the biting frost of Arckit's words, he sank into the quiet, stewing in the aftermath of his own impulsive bravado.
With an air of self-righteous indignation, Arckit resumed her scathing critique, her eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. "And another thing," she began, her voice a venomous lash. "Do you really think it was me they wanted? That I was the grand prize? No, you imbeciles, I was nothing but the bait. They used me to lure the real catch."
Her pointed gaze settled on Evander, the words hanging heavily in the air.
The interior of the vehicle took on a chilling edge as Arckit's voice dipped into a hushed whisper, her tone shifting from scathing criticism to calculated ice. She turned her intense gaze upon Evander, a fake smile playing on her lips as if enjoying a private joke. "Won't you tell these young ladies," she gestured to the stunned women, "how many names you possess?"
Evander stiffened, taken aback by her sudden request. A sense of unease uncurled in his stomach, echoing the palpable tension that filled the vehicle. His mind was momentarily thrown back to the incident at the bank, a dull memory among the flurry of recent events. The bank information had registered four names under his profile - a detail that had seemed odd but insignificant then.
Understanding the implications of Arckit's words, a revelation struck him with the force of a thunderbolt. His gaze involuntarily flickered to the women, noticing a flicker of apprehension tinge their eyes as they turned to him in anticipation.
As the silence grew taut, Arckit continued, her voice carrying a note of triumph. "My guess is that all of you only have two names each," she said, her gaze sweeping over the five women. Their faces seemed to pale slightly, but no one voiced any denial. The atmosphere became taut with tension, the hum of the vehicle the only sound breaking the silence.
Turning her gaze back to Evander, she explained, as he was always clueless in her opinion, "The number of names one carries is of immense importance. One name, like mine, signifies those without familial connections or those who choose to sever them. Two names are granted to those with a certain level of family connections. Those bearing three names are considered nobility, but those with four," her voice hitched slightly, "well, those are the high nobility."
The vehicle seemed to plunge into a deeper silence, the revelation hitting everyone like a wave.
Arckit’s voice cut through the silence like a chilling winter wind, her words wrapped in a cold, cynical humor. "Not only are you a good-looking young man," she said, fixing her gaze on Evander, "but you are a high noble, a man of four names. Can you even begin to imagine the ransom your abduction could fetch?"
Evander could see the reflected glow of the city lights dance in Arckit’s eyes, painting her in an ethereal glow that contrasted sharply with the darkness of her words. She frowned, her expression solemn. "Though, it would be idiocy to attempt such a thing," she admitted, a strange kind of remorse tinging her words. "Your family would hunt them down and slaughter them without a second thought for laying a finger on you."
A shiver raced down Evander's spine at her words. He was no stranger to danger, but this was a different beast altogether. His life was intertwined with politics and power plays he had no understanding of.
"But then again," Arckit continued, her lips curling into a wry smirk, "these gangs aren’t exactly known for their long-term planning. They see an opportunity, they grab it without considering the consequences."
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The hum of the vehicle, the steady stream of traffic beyond the windows, and the distant city lights blurred into a surreal landscape as Evander grappled with the implications of his true identity.
Inside the vehicle, the cityscape's glow danced on Amara's face, casting her features in a tapestry of shadows and light. With an air of calm composure, she turned her gaze onto Evander, her eyes seeking answers to the puzzle he had become. "How did you end up at the institute, Evander?" she asked, her voice steady, her tone analytical. "Why were you there in the first place?"
Why indeed? He thought, his mind grasping for memories that slipped through like sand through fingers. He shook his head, a helplessness seeping into his voice. "I... I can't remember how I got there. I just woke up one day in bed there. That's my earliest memory."
The vehicle hummed on, its constant vibration a rhythmic punctuation to their conversation. The sound filled the silence, providing a semblance of normality amidst their surreal discussion.
"And your full name?" Amara continued her probing, her gaze never leaving his. He could see a flicker of curiosity in her eyes, her mind working over time to piece together the jigsaw puzzle he had become.
He echoed the string of names that the bank official had recited, their foreignness still a shock to his system. "Evander Theodoric Arcturus Leonidas."
At this, Arckit scoffed, her cynical humor resurfacing. "I wouldn't be surprised if the bank staff sold that information to some information broker the moment you left. And who knows how many others now know a high nobleman is roaming about?"
Inside the cavernous confines of the cab, the world beyond their windows reduced to a blur of lights and shadows, Amara and Joy huddled over their mobile devices, their fingers a blur as they scoured the depths of the internet. The soft glow from the screens cast an eerie luminescence on their faces, the dancing pixels reflecting in their concentrated eyes.
What are they searching for? Evander found himself watching their efforts, his curiosity piqued, his heart pounding in anxious anticipation.
After what felt like an eternity, a triumphant gasp escaped Amara's lips, her fingers freezing over her device. She tilted the screen toward Evander, a photograph flashing brightly under the cab's ambient lighting.
A royal family, garbed in resplendent finery, stared back at him from the picture. They stood, regal and distant, against the backdrop of a vast parade ground. The women were of varying ages, their strong resemblances unmistakable.
His heart clenched, a silent admission of recognition even as his mind rejected the idea. "I...I don't remember them. I don't remember any of this."
As the towering cityscape began to recede, replaced by their haven's familiar and comforting sights, Evander sank deeper into his seat. The digital tableau of his lost past played out on the screen, a dance of pixels and light that bore no relation to the life he remembered.
His grip on reality felt tenuous, like a fragile thread about to snap under the weight of his confusion. But admitting his peculiar circumstances was a risk he was unwilling to take, a leap into uncertainty he was not yet ready to make. They won't understand... he thought, feeling the steady thrum of his heart in his throat. It's better this way, better if they never know.
Amara's voice, steady and calming, drifted to him from the front seat. She spoke of intricate political maneuvers and the peculiar conventions of noble families, her words an incongruous mixture of curiosity and caution. A poignant silence followed her musings, one that was soon broken by Emma's practical suggestion.
"Why don't we start with the therapist? She was your first point of contact here, wasn't she, Evander?" She proposed, her tone suggestive of a pragmatic mind at work.
Nods of agreement followed her words.
The transition from the city's discordant hum to the tranquil quiet of their sanctuary was as stark as it was immediate. A palpable sense of security washed over Evander as the group crossed into the safe zone, a haven designed with the welfare of men in mind.
It was within this sanctuary, under the soft glow of the ambient lighting, that Seraphina approached Arckit. The woman held an aura of quiet power, her gaze inscrutable as she extended a palm, a money stone nestled within.
"This should keep you out of trouble," Seraphina's voice was terse, the slight twitch of her lips a subtle indication of her dismissal. The unspoken message was clear - Arckit was free to leave.
Evander, however, had other plans. He moved with purpose, stepping between the two women.
"Arckit stays with us," he announced, the finality in his voice a stark contrast to the uncertainty that danced in his mind. She's safer here, with us. His internal resolution echoed his words. She's an asset and a pretty one too.
The outburst earned him skeptical looks from the women. Emma, always the practical one, was the first to voice the issue at hand.
"Where exactly is she supposed to sleep, Evander?" Emma asked, her tone laden with skepticism. “We're already filled to capacity."
The journey back to the domes was a slow crawl of tension. Each passing landmark, each lush green sweep of parkland they traversed, became a silent count ticking away the time Evander had left to answer Emma's question. He remained stoic throughout, his features a blank canvas hiding the whirlwind of thoughts within.
As they reached their domicile nestled within the lush verdure, the quiet buzz of life welcomed them. The night was alive, whispers of nocturnal creatures weaving a soothing lullaby. With the question still hanging in the air like a guillotine, Evander avoided any immediate confrontation. He stepped through the threshold of their home, his mind focused on a plan.
Inside, the warmth of the living area enveloped him. He moved with swift determination, veering towards his own quarters.
His bed was soon stripped of its bedding as Evander set his plan into motion. He emerged from his room, his arms laden with sheets and pillows.
In the center of their shared living space, he began to assemble a makeshift bed near the grand, plush couch. The ambiance of the room seemed to hold its breath as the women watched him, their disbelief palpable. Once his task was complete, he turned towards Arckit, his gaze resolute.
"You can use my room," he stated simply, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small, encouraging smile.
A collective gasp echoed through the room. The women looked between each other, their shock evident, save for Arckit. Her face betrayed nothing, a stoic mask of calm. With a quick nod towards Evander, she moved past the astonished women and disappeared into his room.