Chapter 7

621 remained concealed beside the double doors, his senses sharpened to catch every nuance of the approaching voices. The footsteps grew louder, and the soft murmur of conversation reached his ears. Two female voices, shrouded in the mystery of the night.

The first voice, a delicate whisper that seemed to dance with the wind, spoke hesitantly. "Did you hear about the Paragon tonight? The rage in his voice was like thunder."

The second voice, barely audible, responded with caution. "Aye, I did. And about one of the young lords, too? Injured, they say. A feud, perhaps?"

The two voices, seemingly belonging to maids immersed in the daily affairs of the manor, tread carefully in their speculative dialogue. The click of their footsteps on the marble floor matched the rhythm of the unfolding mystery.

"I've seen physicians entering the manor, their faces hidden beneath hoods. Strange, isn't it?" the first voice mused, a note of uncertainty woven into the words.

The second voice replied, "Aye, strange indeed. But we shouldn't gossip too much. You know how the Paragon despises rumors. If he catches wind of us, we might find ourselves scrubbing the floors for a fortnight."

The tension in the air thickened as they approached the double doors. The incoherent distant shouts of the Paragon echoed through the corridor, a mere backdrop to the veiled conversation.

"He shouted something about betrayal," the first voice continued, the words hanging in the air like mist. "But who could betray the Paragon? It's beyond me."

The second voice sighed, "Best not to dwell on it. We're mere servants, after all. Our duty is to keep our heads down and our mouths shut."

As the voices neared the double doors, 621 listened intently, his silver eyes gleaming in the darkness, poised and ready to act. As the soft footsteps and hushed whispers echoed through the corridor, his mind worked like a well-oiled machine, analyzing the bits and pieces of information unraveling before him.

'Young lord?' he pondered silently, his silver eyes narrowing in thought. He had been certain that Alicia, the one he pursued, was a lady. The discrepancy in the gossip stirred a flicker of doubt in his mind, but he trusted his instincts.

The Paragon, according to the voices, was in a fit of rage, shouting about betrayal and an injured kin. A surge of recognition flickered within 621's thoughts.

‘I’m certain he was the one who shouted’, it made sense in a convoluted way. Alicia, the supposed damsel in distress, might have connections with the Paragon, a man of unknown intentions.

His rationale urged him to consider the possibility that the two voices were not privy to the full truth. He believed internally that their gossip might be distorted by the limited scope of their knowledge.

As the two voices approached the double doors, their words lingering in the air like an unsolved riddle, 621 steeled himself.

The double doors swung open, revealing 621 shrouded in the sudden darkness cast by the massive door. The candlelit object in the hand of one of the maids illuminated their features, yet 621 remained hidden within the shadows, his presence unnoticed as he observed the two servants.

The first maid, a figure with auburn hair, held the candle aloft, its flickering flame dancing in the dimly lit corridor. The second maid, with midnight-black locks, stood beside her. Their appearances were ordinary, their maid outfits blending seamlessly with the atmosphere of the manor.

The auburn-haired maid, glancing down the hallway, voiced her thoughts, "This needs to be prepared for tomorrow?" Her words hung in the air, a question laced with uncertainty.

The midnight-haired maid nodded in agreement, her tone simple and affirmative. "Yes, an important guest is arriving tomorrow. The halls must be impeccable."

As they discussed the preparations, 621 moved silently behind them, his cloak trailing like a wraith in the night. Without uttering a single word, he slipped through the double doors behind them, entering and navigating the unknown territory.

Once inside, he hugged the side walls like a phantom, blending seamlessly with the shadows that clung to the meandering halls. His movements were deliberate, every step calculated with vigilance. His acute senses attuned to the upcoming and nearby doors, he listened intently, searching for any clues that might lead him to his elusive prey.

The maids continued their discussion, unaware of the silent infiltrator in their midst. The flickering candlelight only painted a phantom image of a shadow moving in the darkness.

From a concealed corner, 621's sharp eyes fixated on a particular guarded doorway, the slightly opened door offered a glimpse into a dimly lit room. A clandestine air surrounded the area.

Three guards, distinct from the ones found in the inner district, maintained a stoic watch. The aura of professionalism clung to them, their well-groomed appearance and finely crafted armour setting them apart. The door was flanked by two guards, standing like silent statues, while another, a formidable figure, faced the entrance with an intensity that betrayed a lethal competence.

The trio's attire spoke of opulence and prowess. Plated iron armor, from head to toe, gleamed in the dim light, a stark contrast to the more utilitarian guards elsewhere. A small green cape, adorned with an engraved symbol denoting the head of a stag with formidable antlers, fluttered in the faint breeze. It was the insignia of the Paragon's house, a symbol that resonated through the manor's walls.

Swords, sheathed in scabbards, hung from their belts, a subtle yet undeniable display of a tamed killing intent. Each movement they made radiated a degree of discipline and precision. The dim light played off the edges of their armour, casting an imposing shadow on the corridor.

The particular guard opposite the door exuded an air of menace. His demeanor set him apart from his companions, a professional killer amidst mere casuals. His armour, though as luxurious as the others, seemed to carry an unspoken weight of experience. The engraved symbol on his cape appeared more pronounced, a mark of authority.

621 couldn't shake the feeling that danger emanated from this particular sentinel. However, what made him even more apprehensive was a particular aura emanating from the dimly lit room beneath the door, he was familiar with this feeling; he recognized it.

Unconsciously, 621 made even greater efforts to erase his presence from the surroundings as he reduced his breathing, heart rate and movements to an all-time low; he even cleared his mint from any hostile intentions. As he further reduced his presence, blending seamlessly within the shadows, he listened intently to the voices within the dimly lit room.

And sure enough, he recognized a particular commanding voice which resonated with authority as it inquired, "How is her condition?"

The response came in the form of a frail, subservient voice, almost trembling in the given circumstances. "Paragon..It... is not well," he confessed.

The frail voice continued in a dialogue that painted a vivid image of his patient’s deteriorating state. "Her body... it's blackening with each passing moment," he described with a palpable sense of desperation.

"I suspect she's been poisoned. She remains unconscious, and her limbs... most are broken. I've done my best to mend her broken body, but the poison... I lack the expertise to reduce or eliminate it."

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The commanding voice erupted in a silent fury, a dangerous killing intent that forced the frail voice to whimper in distress. Even the darkness outside the door seemed to pulse with the intensity of his hostile aura, challenging the authority of the two flanking guards.

Yet, amidst the tension, a voice of reason cut through. A silent female voice spoke with a blend of pleading and calming authority. "Hubert, enough..."

Hubert's name hung in the air like an unspoken revelation finally identifying the mysterious paragon.

“Alicia needs to be treated so please calm down, I understand your fury; I am angry too but…this isn’t the time to be acting out on our emotions”, she continued.

“Our…daughter needs help”.

A long silence intensified before Hubert spoke with a controlled sadness, a depth of emotion beneath the authoritative facade.

"You're… right, I understand." His words resonated with a profound sense of desperation.

The frail voice, seemingly a physician, seized the opportunity to offer some reassurance. "I've done everything within my capabilities, but the nature of the poison eludes me. I regret to inform you that time is of the essence, and we must find a solution swiftly."

The silent female voice, identified as Alicia's mother, added, "We cannot lose hope. We must exhaust every possibility to cure her."

Hubert, still wrestling with his sadness, seemed to agree with a heavy heart. "Do whatever it takes to save her," he commanded, the weight of his emotions seeped into his words.

His gaze, though unseen in the shadows, bore the weight of a father's anguish. "Go," he instructed the physician, a flicker of urgency in his voice.

"Maintain Alicia's well-being for now. The Great Physician arrives tomorrow. He will know what to do."

The physician, recognizing the gravity of the situation, nodded in agreement. "I'll do my best to ensure her comfort until then," he pledged, his voice a whisper in the dim room.

Turning his attention to the guarded doorway, Hubert commanded, "Oberon, go accompany him." The guard facing the door, identified as Oberon, acknowledged the order with a crisp step forwards, the gleam of his plated armour catching a hint of the ambient light.

The frail physician, laden with the responsibility of Alicia's well-being, stepped out of the dimly lit room, his footsteps muffled by the weight of uncertainty. As he emerged into the corridor, the ambient light cast distorted shadows on the walls, creating an ethereal atmosphere that mirrored the urgency of the situation.

Oberon, the stalwart guard, stood at attention, his iron-clad form imposing against the dimly lit backdrop. The physician approached, the gravity of Alicia's condition etched on his face, a map of the burdens he carried.

The physician, with a deep breath, followed the guard down the corridor, the echo of their footsteps reverberating in the stillness of the manor. Unbeknownst to them, 621 remained hidden in the shadows near their path. As the entourage moved in the direction of his hiding spot, a twinge of apprehension stirred within him.

Fortunately, the physician and Oberon passed by 621's concealed position. The shadows clung to him like a loyal ally, rendering him invisible to the passing entourage. He planned to follow after them.

However, just as he was about to follow in their wake, a sentence from the dimly lit room halted him in his tracks, an invisible force compelled him to linger and eavesdrop.

Inside the dimly lit room, Hubert's voice resonated with a mixture of sorrow and determination. "Alicia, my daughter... we will find a way to save you. Tomorrow, with the arrival of the Great Physician, we will unravel the mysteries that shroud your fate."

The female voice, the silent orchestrator of reason, responded with a calm assurance that cut through the heaviness of the room. "Hubert, I trust the Great Physician. He has mended ailments that others deemed incurable. I have absolute faith that he will heal Alicia."

Hubert's voice, though laden with worry, carried a note of agreement. "You're right. I have an absolute trust in the Great Physician's abilities. He will bring her back to us."

These words hung in the air, momentarily stunning 621, concealed in the shadows.

"Impossible!" he thought, the certainty of the poison he had administered camouflaged as a healing potion was now in question. He strained to comprehend the depth of their faith in this supposed Great Physician.

The shadows around him seemed to close in as he pondered his next course of action. But the next words from the woman, assumed to be Hubert's wife caused him to perk up.

"What about the perpetrator?" she asked, her tone a mix of urgency and worry. "Do you know who attacked Alicia? Where is he now? What was his intention?"

Hubert, grappling with the complexities of the situation, sighed before responding. "I was close to tracking him down, but he slipped away. I don't know who he is or where he is now. As for his intentions..."

Hubert hesitated; the uncertainty evident in his voice. "I can make some assumptions, but I'm not entirely sure."

The woman's voice, tender yet insistent, pressed for more details. "Assumptions are better than nothing. What do you think drove him to target Alicia? And why did he disappear?"

Hubert's response carried the weight of a man wrestling with the shadows of the unknown. "I believe he targeted Alicia because of her connection to me. Perhaps he sought to send a message or leverage against me. As for his disappearance, it's unclear. He seemed to vanish without a trace."

"Alicia….I found Alicia in that cave by sheer chance," he began, a furrow forming on his brow. "She activated her life charm, and I charged through the terrain with all my might. But by the time I reached the cave's entrance, the perpetrator had slipped away."

His wife, sensing his disappointment, offered a reassurance. "Fortunately, you found Alicia. That's what matters most."

Hubert, acknowledging her words, continued with a sense of bewilderment. "It's unusual, though. The attacker seemed to know I was coming. And even now, her life charm hasn't reacted. I don't understand."

His wife, her tone thoughtful, chimed in. "Perhaps the attacker had inside information, or maybe they have a way to mask their presence from the life charm. It's a perplexing situation, Hubert."

Hubert, still grappling with the mysteries that surrounded the attack, nodded in agreement. "Indeed, something doesn't add up.”

Hubert's voice, firm and resolute, then cut abruptly through the dimly lit room as he spoke with unwavering determination. "One thing is for sure. Once I find him, I will bring down hell on Gaia itself to get the answers I seek. No one harms my family and escapes the consequences."

The woman's voice, a mixture of concern and support, responded, "Hubert, we must be cautious. Acting recklessly could endanger us all."

Hubert's tone held a fierce edge as he ignored her concern. "I can't sit idly by, not when Alicia has suffered. I will find him, and he will pay for what he has done."

A subtle clarity settled in 621’s mind. Hubert's determination to seek justice for Alicia unveiled a vulnerability—a vulnerability that indicated his lack of awareness regarding his true identity and whereabouts.

His internal thoughts unfolded with a newfound sense of assurance. ‘They don't know. Hubert and his wife are oblivious to my existence’,

‘The fact that the perpetrator they seek is right outside their door is amusing. They speak of justice and vengeance, yet little do they know that the orchestrator of their torment is within arm's reach.’

A fleeting smirk, almost imperceptible, touched 621's lips as he mentally mocked Hubert's resolve. ‘Do you know that the one you seek is observing your every move, lurking in the very shadows you cast?’ he mused.

Within the hidden recesses of his thoughts, 621 processed the revelation about Alicia's life charm. The confirmation of her activating it echoed in the corridors of his mind, aligning with the instincts that had guided him from the beginning.

"No wonder they found the cave," he thought to himself, a calculated acknowledgment of Alicia's actions triggering the rescue that had disrupted his plans.

His internal dialogue took on a tone of thankfulness. ‘Instincts don't lie. I knew it.’

The mention of her life charm simply served as a reaffirmation of his cautious approach. He had refrained from exploring Alicia's looted items, especially those tucked away in his dimensional bag. A sense of gratitude washed over him for the restraint he had exercised. "I knew I had to be cautious with her belongings," he reflected.

"The dimensional bag remains a trove of potential information, untouched and unexplored."

As 621 grappled with the recent revelations, a sense of relief washed over him. Hubert's association with the Umbral Council was also cast aside, a doubt dispelled. Now, the path to utilizing that avenue for his hunt for Vulture seemed clearer than before.

‘I needed to be sure,’ he thought to himself. ‘Sure of the fact that Hubert wasn't entangled with the Umbral Council. Now that I know, I can move forward,’ a playful smirk danced across his hooded face.

‘The only obstacle now is Alicia,’ he thought to himself. The name echoed in the recesses of his mind, accompanied by the weight of uncertainty. ‘What do I do with her? She's a thread that could unravel something that I don’t know. I need to decide whether to cut it or weave it.’

The enigma of Alicia's connection to the Umbral Council sparked questions that demanded answers. ‘How did she come to work for them? Was it through Hubert’s influence, or does she possess a resourcefulness that belies her unassuming persona?’

In the silent corridors of his mind, a darker sense of mockery danced it’s queue. ‘After all, the promise of freedom, the illusion of a healing potion were nothing more than mere carrots dangled before the eyes of a pig,’ he mused.

As the enigmatic dance continued, 621 reflected on the interruption caused by Hubert's unexpected intrusion. ‘His interference merely prolonged her suffering, how ironic, truly; it’s so very amusing’.

In the shadows, where morality blended with pragmatism, 621 acknowledged the truths of his perspective. ‘A potential threat, cannot be allowed to roam freely, armed with knowledge that could compromise my identity.’

The tone of his internal dialogue turned sinister, ‘It seems the most logical approach remains unchanged.’

..

‘Eliminate.’