∼ The Orphans ∼

Chapter - 060

Eyes followed the trio as they went, lights from makeshift fires glowing through cracks in the maze of crumbling houses. They all belonged to young teens and kids, wearing the weary of the world's abandonment on their faces. Eric knew that look very well. Every single one of them was an orphan.

"What is this place?" Aria asked, eyes darting around at every noise and creak of old wood.

"The place where the unwanted go," Eric muttered distantly.

Aria clutched Nyx to her, the agitated demon complaining as she wouldn't let him go. He was more than ready to fight his way out of this place. Surely, the tension right now would have been a good excuse to kill some humans. Still, he did feel some worry despite only being surrounded by stupid human children. There was just something more to this place than met the eye.

Finally, they were led to a robust door at the of a winding corridor of confining houses, paneled windows on either side. The building nestled within the run-down and rickety houses looked entirely out of place as it was clearly well-kept.

The girl holding the lantern looked them over once more before turning to a hollow beside the door. There she laid a single coin. It didn't look like any gael Eric or Aria had seen before, but only a moment later, the coin disappeared then summarily thrown back, the girl catching it and making it vanish back into her robes.

The next moment, the door opened with a whoosh, hot air spilling into their faces. There stood a man, the light from inside silhouetting him in the doorframe. He wore a long strip of cloth wrapped around his head, mouth, and nose, only his hard green Moravian eyes visible. He said not a word as he merely stepped to the side, indicating for them to enter.

Hesitating, Aria looked for the girl but came up short. "W-where did she go?" There was no trace of her, the dark now only dispelled by the light coming from the door. They hadn't even heard her move, neither could they glimpse the light from her lantern. It was completely silent in the maze of dilapidated houses, none of the numerous orphaned children in sight. Aria and Eric quickly came to realize; that this was their world.

As they passed the veiled man, his hard eyes following them, Nyx glared back, not particularly liking this lowly human's attitude. However, as they entered this hidden building nestled in the untraversable Foothills, they found themselves in a large lobby of sorts. There were people wearing clothes alike to the one who had opened the door, lounging around, tending to their concealed weapons and gear, or nursing a bowl of stew and a mug of mead.

If not most, then all of these people were class holders purely from how they held themselves, with some of them probably even close to their first advancement from the air of expertise and menace radiating off choice individuals. Meaning some of them were around the twenties in level and beyond. That made every single person here very, very dangerous.

Eric, of course, did not relent any ground, but Aria, unfortunately, did not carry such sheer stubbornness in the face of overwhelming power. And Nyx... unsurprisingly, was itching for a fight more than anything after seeing all these worthy opponents. Yet, all that the three were spared was merely a guarded glance from those nearly thirty men and women in the room. They clearly did not view them as a threat.

As Nyx, Aria, and Eric had halted in their steps to look around, the man who had answered the door spoke up in a gravelly voice. "Follow me, they are waiting for you,"

Following him, they were led to yet another corridor in this strange building, past the lobby and multiple other rooms occupied by even more of these secretive and close-mouthed men and women. They were then finally met with the final door at the end of a corridor. The man knocked on the door, waiting until a young but firm voice responded. They entered.

Inside were four people. An old man, weathered face and a full beard of grey and white, snoring away with his lanky and hairy legs kicked up on the table as his chair tipped dangerously on its hind legs. A woman with glasses and curly black, short-cropped hair, engrossed in a stack of parchment and papers as she scribbled and used the lantern light on her desk to inspect the scrawl. But the ones that took up the room with their presence were the two men at the far end.

While they gave off an entirely different air from each other, they were without a doubt, identical twins. One leaned with his rear against the desk at the end and center of the office, arms crossed with a perpetual frown affixed to his hard face. The lines under his eyes telling of experience and having seen the rough of the world and more. Green eyes, slightly reddish-brown hair, and well-kept but simple clothing. The sleeves from his white shirt underneath his brown vest were rolled up, showing strong and scarred arms, his hands looking like those of a working man. But Eric instantly recognized his fists to be those of a fighter.

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Behind the desk, was the other twin. Wearing glasses and pouring over his own stack of papers, a fine glass of liqueur pinning down one of the curling corners as he read. But as he looked up to face the three arrivals, they were all shocked to see a marred face of white lines. He had been scarred like so many of the homeless people in The Stained Tooth's territory. But his scars were... different. They did not look as complete, as malign, or nearly as methodical. They looked more like they had been made with nothing reckless abandon and anger. Whoever had done that to him had done it in rage. Eric was sure.

There was something else about this man though. Something that put him apart from his brother. His eyes. Green, as vibrant and steely as Eric's. However, whereas Eric's gleamed determination and stubbornness, this man's eyes had the showings of cunning and a great mind.

The twin with glasses was first to speak. "So, a baron's bastard, a wayward elf, and a demon posing as a gnome have come to me. Shank - just what am I to make of that?"

The three of them were shocked, their identities being foiled from the get-go in the least of their expectations. The twin leaning against the table snorted, his hand reaching down to pull out a pocket watch by a chain that hung out. "I dunno - Zach. They look like kids way in over their heads to me," His voice was gruff and coarse as he glanced at the finely-made timepiece in his hand.

The twin in glasses nodded. "From what I hear - in over their heads; is more than accurate."

Eric's face contorted into a scowl. "And, how exactly do you know us?"

The man chuckled, the white lines on his mouth creasing into a slightly horrifying smirk. "It's my job to know these things. Who enters my city - who leaves. Here, nothing happens without us knowing and nothing gets past us without us having already expected it,"

He waved his hand dismissively. "But of course, I know of Matthias's bastard nephew when he himself told me. Not that those poor forgeries would've fooled me though, Mr. William Briggs, Miss Meera Alcott, and Sir Nyxel Brasshand."

The twin chuckled, kicking himself off the desk to grab a glass from the liquor cabinet nearby, making himself a drink all the while Eric's eyes bore into him. However, his glare did little more than make the twin's smirk widen as he turned to the tall and broad youth. "Ohh - I like this one," He said with gravel in his voice, taking a swig of dark amber brandy he had poured. "Those eyes, you've got the fire - kid."

Eric's eyes just darkened at that, the man clearly not seeing him as a threat or even a young adult. But truly, as a child.

The other twin stepped in. "I must apologize on my brother's behalf. His manners aren't half as good as what's expected, I'm afraid." But Eric's glare did not break as sparks were nearly ignited between the two fighters.

Surprisingly, Aria spoke up timidly, breaking her silence. "I am sorry... but just who are you?"

The twin in glasses gave her a look, hands folded under his chin as his elbow rested on the fine lacquered desk. "-Right. Very well then, I believe introductions are in order." He gestured to his brother. "This is my brother, Shank. Shank Morjoy. And I would be Zechariah."

Aria blinked, barely stifling an innocent giggle at just how well the names seemed to fit the two. One elegant and sophisticated and the other hard and simple. But the man's knowing smirk seemed to see right past her poor attempts at remaining courteous.

"How did you know about me?" Aria asked steadily, getting back on track, though her fidgeting hands revealed her nervousness.

Zechariah, or Zach as called by his brother, peered into the hood of Aria, landing on the voluminous red wavy locks that could be glimpsed. "Most don't know of elves and their hair. But I do. I've seen your race's vibrant colors up close - a sight I'll never forget..." He paused, his bright green eyes distant for a second. "With a mane so bright and fiery as yours, you can be no human."

Aria's face scrunched up into confusion as she looked at the man who couldn't have been older than his late twenties. "You fought in the war? But you are so-"

"Young?" He interrupted, knowing what she had been about to say. "I didn't say I fought. But I was close enough to watch as one of your elven sorceresses set me and my brother's family aflame, and old enough to remember." The room went cold with tension. "That azure hair that billowed such in the roar of the blue flames. Oh - I remember vividly."

Eric stepped in front of Aria protectively. "You seem awfully nonchalant about her, for someone who had their family torched by her race." There was clear distrust in Eric's voice, his muscles tense and ready to fight at any moment. "Elves generally aren't looked upon... favorably by humans."

But what came out of the man's mouth next was all but what Eric or Aria had expected.

"Eh- They probably deserved it." He shook his head almost regrettably. "Cruel they were, those people. It honestly was only a matter of time, be it by the hand of the elves or me and my brother." There was a certain darkness to what he said, a hateful gleam entering both the twins' eyes. There was just something in them that sent shivers down Eric, Aria, and even Nyx's spine.

"Anyway, familial wounds is not the topic of today,"

"So you don't care that she's an elf?" Eric asked dubiously. "You won't expose us?"

He fell back into his chair with a sigh. "No, I don't. Well, I suppose she does seem lucid enough - for an elf." He stopped for a moment, a finger trailing one of his larger scars thoughtfully as he peered into Aria's dark hood. "Hmm - with your hair.... you must come from quite the bloodline, little miss." He said, smirk widening.

Aria stiffened at that, much more than she usually was when taken off guard. Eric managed to take note of that, looking between her and Shank, some hidden meaning conveyed in their frozen stares. But he was at a loss to what.

"But no - I have no desire to out either of you. Of course, only as long as you don't give me a reason to." He let that statement hang in the air as a thinly veiled threat. There was something about the way his green eyes gleamed that told Eric that the man's words were not empty.