“You ask, what am I here for? That can be rather obvious and even normal to you.” The man said, tossing the spy diary at Allan's lap.
“I wished to see you and I got the permission. After wasting my time with your father and those bunch of ‘’important’’ people, there were to do. More opportunities for me, to be exact.”
Allan looked at him in confusion. He thought this person had some ambitions in his way of speaking, and it seemed he knew something about his father. Hearing that, he straightened his posture, which was resting by the tree, and looked at this man. His throbbing body got over the impact of his injuries, but there was no way for him to run or save himself in other ways.
He could see clearer than before. The man was sitting right before his feet, close enough so his face could be seen. His voice didn't match his appearance at all. With an ordinary face, one of his eyes was hidden behind the strands of black hair. His whole face seemed hard to read his expressions, and he looked younger than he thought. The 30s was the age, he would guess at the bare maximum. The cloak that he had around his head made it hard to discern his face from a greater distance, but here, it was fine.
Seeing Allan not responding to his words, he continued with his talking.
“I read through your diary with a simple goal in mind. To find interesting things about your father or something that would give me some information. I didn't expect to meet any kind of good news in your possession, but this was a small surprise. Its content blew away those expectations. For you to spy on your father for so long is rather unbelievable to me. Your word and descriptions helped me to develop more complex information and gain an enormous advantage.”
“You may have been raised in mortal worlds. Far away from anything, but this entire universe is filled with so many things. I am like that, too. Born here on this very planet, while living and grabbing every opportunity I had for the past 80 years. The fruits of my labor grew explosively until I lit my Spark.”
“Why are you telling me your useless life sob story? I am not interested.” Allan bluntly said, not giving up on telling him anything.
“Don't say that… I am trying to give you an opportunity to get a better understanding of the grand scheme of things.” The man replied as if he was doing him a favor in return for this diary.
“So you want to know something that you don’t know now? I can’t see what I can offer even if I could. Why should I bother with whatever you will request? I won’t be able to escape and I doubt you or people behind you would be willing to risk their positions for mine.” Allan surprisingly said in a firm voice. This surprised the man a bit, but he continued nonetheless.
“Your latest diary pages. They described the flowing ball of fire. It was flowing towards your father and some other things. You left it so vague. I want to know more about this.”
“DO I get anything in return?” Allan tried to dig for some benefits and possibilities.
“I can’t offer you anything of what you currently need.” The man replied honestly, which came as a surprise to Allan, who expected some more cunning methods from him.
This man knew he couldn't provoke anyone related to this mess that was happening. To get closer to what he wanted, he made a business transaction with Meng, who helped him at a rather expensive price. He had a brand new goal with this transaction, which came true with what Allan left in his diary.
“Give me back my bandanna. Can you do at least that?” Allan asked, as he couldn’t move much. He noticed it lying there beside himself.
“You? Huh? Alright, I can.” He piqued the cloth, which he assumed to be what this boy wanted. It slipped away at some point, but he didn't notice the hammer metallic symbol before tossing it into Allan's chest.
“Will you cooperate now?”
“If you won’t stop blabbering about every detail and your life's choices, I can reconsider. I can confirm my spy diary content is real, but, there is nothing much at all after that. I know nothing that went on in these scenes apart from very little. Nothing about it makes sense to be. It's just the blabbering of a kid... what do you expect from me? Materials or techniques aren't something that you are interested in, I bet. Father taught me blacksmithing, and that was it. He kept everything for himself that would be interesting for you.”
“Don’t you feel sad and angry after everything that your father kept from sharing with you?”
“Of course not. He is my father. I would never consider it. I am just too young. Moreover, I think father already knew about my spying.” Allan muttered the truth, what wouldn't matter to hide. He wasn’t entirely sure about his idea of telling him more about this, but he had nothing to lose anyway. Even his talk of Clayton, knowing about his spying, wasn't that farfetched. There were some instances where it could be said that he exposed himself, but Clayton never once made a deal about it.
“Could be true. That is also a possibility, but I do not need to worry about that.”
“Why?” Allan asked.
“Because your father is held hostage by the Nation of the Dawn.”
Allan gasped at this revelation, as he wasn't sure about this for certain. Thomas seemed rather sure, but hearing the full-on confirmation like this was still better. This simple confirmation solved some of his questions. He couldn’t help but believe this since it could explain some things he had in his mind. Even if the Dawn was still dormant, they were a nation that shook the world in the past.
Now, it came back to its obvious raid and wreaking havoc throughout the continent. It won't end well unless the nations will force their alliance and go against the Dawn.
“I see,” Allan muttered with acceptance, yet hidden anger in his tone.
“I want to know the location of those sights described in your diary.” The man said suddenly, after voicing his goal. This was his true goal since getting this diary.
He wanted it for himself. That wealth was somewhere hidden beyond his knowledge. That would upgrade his path forward. He could pay for the materials to equip himself to stand tall and closer to heaven. Reaching the ceiling, which he previously did not think was possible, would be possible with the sights from this book. After all, even if these were scribbles of the kid, this man knew who Clayton was. At least a little bit, so this diary was more important than Allan would ever guess in his mind.
“What?” Allan blurred in question. He didn't know why he asked this sort of question. Now, he realized something, since he forgot something he never thought about. Since he never even considered it something important for himself, there was something this diary never had.
His diary didn't comprise the sights he has seen outside of the acts of his father. He described it in a way his father looked like, his way of forging, hammering, and material descriptions with quick sketches. It was rough, in a true sense of words, while Allan couldn't do it better, since he was young but passionate about it.
One of the important things he never wrote about was simple. From the very beginning, he never disclosed the location f the spying or the things he did himself. Earlier years of this spying diary were scribbles, to not forget things and be consistent for his future progress. He understood nothing at first, as he uncovered things over time. What was going on behind the window was much more important than one clueless kid would guess. It was something very important, which he realized after the second year, Where he was a little older.
Allan never realized that his diary was, in fact, very poorly written. It had basic ways of description in his earlier pages, and Allan never considered improving the way he wrote about it. It was like a list of groceries, but it was improving very slowly. Nothing there but simple and direct descriptions made it better to understand with his limited knowledge. It was called a diary for a reason, which made him happy, no matter what quality it held.
As time went on, Allan improved and started to write in more cohesive ways to give his sights a better place than in his mind. That happened less than a year ago, while his pages improved most of his spying endeavors. Father’s books and documents could be of some value to this man, but he was unsure. All that Allan knew was that this diary shouldn't be something adults would be curious about. That was only his common sense.
“Where IS IT? There are no descriptions of that, and the same forging knowledge isn't important to me.” The man asked once again since Allan answered nothing.
“I-I don't know,” Allan answered again, not one bit agitated. He saw this man's greed, which was filled with ambition, but he will never disclose it. “He wants the content of my father’s forgery! Dream on, you shithead!” he decided in his mind, which made things that much adamant about him.
“Liar… You never described it, since you would never have a need for it yourself. There are some things that you left out because this is YOUR diary. Now, I want to know it directly from you. That is the reason I am here, at this moment, talking to you. Understood, brat?!” The man changed his voice and sounded much colder than ever.
Allan was surprised by how bluntly the man asked, but he didn't change his answer.
“I w-won’t tell you.” Said Allan resolutely, while forgetting himself in the heat of the moment. He wanted to tell something else, not that.
The man frowned, hearing his unwillingness, but he was a kid. Getting an answer from him should be easy.
“Are you aware of what that ball of fire was? That description and its disappearance? The way you wrote about could mean it should be stored somewhere. Where?”
Allan gritted his teeth while sweating quite profusely. He wasn't sure if he can get this man off this topic. “I guess it is some form of spirit element? From how it looked, it should help with forging and many other things.” Allan made up some sense from his own experiences, while not making things obvious, that the soul-fire was right on top of his chest. Although hidden, it was the same as telling him where it was.
“You are halfway right, but that wasn't that bad of an answer. It is known as the soul-fire. A material not of this world. Their true purpose is its value and massive rarity. I don't know how the fuck your father found one, but it is impossible to find 2 one on lower-class planets like this.” The man explained in understanding while forgetting that Allan didn't answer where it was stored.
“W-what are you talking about?” Allan asked in confusion. He was unaware of the way the higher people of power looked at the bigger picture. It also seemed this man knew much more about the stuff of legends than him. He knew about the soul-fires, which didn't come as a surprise, considering the bald and scarred man are people of legends. Most likely.
The man grunted in displeasure. “They are rare and beyond mortal comprehension! And your father had it. Do you understand now?!” He was displeased by Allan for not knowing enough.
“The other valuable things I couldn't care less about them. Let me just take away the soul-fire and I can give you all the rest.” The man answered with a hint of urgent voice. He was trying to pursue Allan to tell him where it was stored while giving him something in return. This could work. He thought.
“I-I am unable to say anything to your offer…” to his hesitation, and surprise, Allan didn't butch with the answer.
“Just tell me. It's simple, or do you wish for the Dawn to find such treasured before me? I swear I am a much better person than a nation such as that. That doesn't sound that unreasonable, doesn't it? I may as well try to help you someday where I am stronger… Or is it...” the man said in grief, as he didn't want to get personal with such a kid, who was already quite done when it came to injuries.
“You... You don't know where any of this is? You are unaware of where the soul-fire ended?” He asked in shock.
Allan's expression betrayed him as he glared at the man. His little play was successful, but he still continued to fake it.
“How?”
“I took a glance one day through the crack in the house. It went from there.” Allan completed his excuse.
The man contemplated for a good minute before coming to an understanding.
“So you took it personally? It is still in your home, I assume? Clayton would probably leave it somewhere close. Like a hidden room. That wouldn't be that surprising since I doubt he had the recourses to build up an independent realm.” Man didn't trust a single word that Allan said. It sounded like an obvious lie, and out of place to be a crack. There should be some secret door or something, which Allan entered behind his father's back.
“I will burn your home all down if I end up discovering nothing. Blame your own fate, brat” The man stood up, after glaring and telling the harsh reality to this helpless kid. It wasn't out of spite, but a truth that was grander in the current universe. Glancing at Allan for the last time, he could see the fire of anger and frustration in his bloodied eyes.
“Don't take it wrong, kid. This is a world where everyone looks out for themselves. Don't worry too much. I will look for you in a Dawn if I have to. They won’t hurt you too bad I suppose. Oh, wait... They already did. Heheheh.”
“You bastard…” Allan gritted his teeth in frustration and desperation. He stalled and hoped for some chance to try to understand this person before him, but It seemed he was more crafty than he made it out to be.
“Farewell, Allan. I hope we will meet again with you being still alive.”
“Y-YOU! What is your name? Who are you?”
“Just an adventurer with occasional assassinations.”
“Edd Zenilis is my name.”
The man answered as he was walking away, no longer being interested, since he got pretty much what he expected.
Allan was stunned to see any resemblance of confidence in himself, but he did, with what he wanted in half a way. He thought upon his arrival, that the man’s reasons for looking at him were positive. Perhaps it was something that his father arranged, like with Skoll. He also wondered about the underground market and his letter delivery, but at this point, that was a less than important matter. It all seemed rather useless to even though about. For the current him, that was laying there with a broken body, it was useless. He completely underrated his helplessness.
His resolve was still deep in his heart, yet he couldn’t clinch it and push forward. Weakness overlapped him, as he wasn't able to lift a finger.
Edd was gone in no time from his line of vision as he walked away. From behind the hill emerged a servant of Lord Gao. Frown on his face, he had a displeased look in his eyes as he looked at Edd. “You finished?”
“Indeed. Thank you for your cooperation, so you can toss this to your master when you return with your prey.” Edd threw him a piece of green jade while his business was done.
“Hmph!” The scarred man snorted and caught the jade as he watched the man walk away. Before he knew it, he disappeared in a gust of wind in one steep motion of his being.
“I swear I hate this job…” the man thought as he watched, but rather went back to his prey.
Allan was still sitting where he was from before, so that meant the sudden intrusion did nothing. He would know it and realize it.
Allan was facing his fate in silence while looking at his bandanna on his lap. He secretly laughed a little, but couldn't do it more. His play was right, but an unexpected one. That man was able to determine this piece of cloth that he retrieved. He almost thought he made the mistake while asking for it, but it didn't matter.
It was fortunate, as Edd Zenilis had more things to care about than some bloodied cloth. The content of this bloodied cloth was more than the soul-fire, but that wasn't something Allan could guess. At least, he knew there was the whetstone and the soul-fire, and that was what mattered to Allan. Too bad the man never questioned it.
Allan knew he described the cloth on his latest pages, but this man didn't notice it for some reason. “Was he unaware or clueless about my writing? I clearly remember the thing I wrote there. That should not be a case, as he knew what he came here for.” He assumed, but couldn't get the answer to this problem. No, it wasn't even his problem. Not anymore, nor in the past. This cloth was a gift, and he won't lose it.
This was an unexpected development, as he thought about it since Allan was deep in worry as the man showed him his spy diary. It was still laying there on his lap, not too far away from the bag.
“I wonder if he checked other books or everything I own, but that isn't important at all... Yes... Yes... I am glad.”
“For that man to be so careful and everything. Was he not afraid to alert the Dawn who took my father? He will never expose my home in his life, I hope. But… why wasn't Dawn interested or aware of father's shop, deals, and work? Yet, they kidnapped him like that? They are a pack of greedy, hungry dogs. Trying to look for some chief to make them a good meal, I suppose.” Allan thought through the pain, while his mind recovered somewhat before the scarred man appeared once again before him.