2-2: Midday, an unfamiliar reunion.

Before long, Assa and Ero arrived at the Flying Rodent, a seemingly normal tavern in a dark corner of the Cite.

The rough-hewn interior of the tavern was darkly lit. The air was heavy with the scent of stale ale, pipe smoke, roasted meat, boisterous laughter, and the clinks of tankards. At one corner, a group of minstrels played, their familiar tune a faint dissonance among the chaotic bustles. And at another, sat a few shadowy figures, their hushed whispers punctuated by sharp bursts of laughter. Assa and Ero made their way to the bar, where a gruff-looking bartender greeted them with a nod, before sliding two tankards of ale across the rough-hewn counter.

"We’re here to see the Black Fox," said Assa after taking a swig from his tankard.

"Aye, the Black Fox," the tavern keeper replied. "He’s not here right now, but he’ll come by, sooner or later. I will send word when he does."

"Much appreciated," said Assa.

A sudden hush fell upon the lively tavern as if stricken silent by a spell. Two new guests had arrived, and all eyes turned toward the leading figure, for such an unruly place like this tavern, it had never seen someone so regal, so luxurious. Her feet, encased within a pair of sparkling high heels, clicked hypnotically against the wooden floorboard. Clack. Clack. Her slender legs grazed against the dress, whose colour resembled a starlit night sky, each step offering glimpses of her fair thighs. Intricate black lace adorned her attire, veiling her from above the bosom to the neckline, then down to the wrists. Golden threads weaved and draped around the fabric, hung across her neck and arms, shimmering like constellations. Her long, swan-coloured hair cascaded like a silken waterfall, accentuated by a crown of silver and diamonds. With an enigmatic smile, she met Assa's gaze, her visage radiant with an all-knowing aura, mature yet flawless.

She halted mere inches from Assa, her penetrating gaze fixed upon him. "Can I help you?" Assa said, wondering why a lady of seemingly high status would find interest in a rogue like him. I didn’t steal anything from her, did I?

"Greetings, fine young man. May I exchange a few words with you?" She spoke with a lofty tone.

"You may, I suppose?" Assa said, his tone wary, yet not unkind.

"Oh, thank Elegael. Then, might you accompany me to a more secluded location? For such tidings are best discussed in private."

"I’d rather not," he replied bluntly. "If there’s anything you wanna say, better say it here."

"Ah, understandable. How thoughtless of me. Naturally, you would hesitate to depart with a stranger." She turned to the barkeep. "Mister Barkeep, a room of your finest quality, please?"

The barkeep jolted, as if awakened from a spell laid upon him by her very presence, "At once! Rosa! Go ahead and take these guests to our best room!"

Assa and Ero, with wary hearts, followed the barmaid up the winding stair, in the company of those newly met under the strange circumstance. Assa, though at first entranced by the woman's radiance, now found the time to turn his gaze toward her companion. The man bore the garb of one who has trodden many paths, his visage marked by the wisdom of years. Assa perceived in him a likeness to Ero, not merely in appearance but also in spirit: dark and inconspicuous.

They came at last to a grand chamber at the very top of the house, and here the lady promptly turned the key in lock, sealing them away from the world outside. "Let me introduce myself. I am Angeles, daughter of Esperanza. May I inquire about your name?" she began her speech.

"You can call me Assa."

"And? Your lineage if you would kindly indulge me."

"Is that important right now?" Assa said bluntly. Years of living in the streets has made him overly cautious.

The woman only smiled politely, before turning her attention to Ero. "And who might his fine young man be?"

"You can call him Ero. He's my brother." Ero remained silent as Assa became his spokesperson.

"Your brother, hm?" The enigmatic lady seemed slightly amused. At length, she spoke again. "My dear, are you aware of the mark that you carry?"

"Mark? I have no such thing,"

"Oh, I see," her eyes glinted with glee. "Perhaps in sight you do not, for it lies concealed. Grant me your hand, and I shall make the unseen seen."

Assa glanced at Ero, whose presence was as still as stone. His hands remained hidden behind his back. With a silent prayer, Assa slid his right hand beneath his cloak, caressing the cold steel of his concealed blade, before extending his left hand to the enigmatic woman.

The woman's slender fingers descended upon the back of Assa's palm, her skin silky smooth. "Insignea," she spoke with airy tone.

Lines of radiant blue light flowed from his arm, coursing through his sleeve like a river of stars. A crest-like pattern emerged, shimmering and ethereal.

"What the devil?" Assa gasped, quickly withdrew his arm as the crest faded. He ran his fingers over the spot where the crest materialised, as if checking for traces of unseen danger.

"Do not be alarmed," the woman said, her voice soothing and reassuring. "I swear upon Elegael that it is not dangerous. But that's not all. Tell me, young man, do you happen to possess a regal-looking sword? A sword adorned with gold and precious gems, does that ring a bell?"

Assa felt his heartbeat quicken. Could she be talking about his short sword? But how did she know? Don’t tell me? The sword was hers all along? She does look the part.

"Oh, please don’t misunderstand," she said. "I am not here to take it from you or anything of the sort. I merely wish to see it."

"Why?"

"For it may reveal a great secret about you. However, I can't just simply tell such a secret without seeing the sword first hand. Would you kindly indulge me with this request?"

Reluctantly, Assa reached behind his back and brandished his short sword, keeping it just out of her grasp. Its brilliance shone under the light peering through the windows.

At that moment, she gasped, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of awe and delight. "Oh, dear Elenoth! I've finally found you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms open in a welcoming gesture. But Assa instinctively took a step back, making her stumble slightly. "Eh?", she muttered, her expression a mixture of surprise and embarrassment.

"What are you doing?" Assa said.

The woman composed herself, her hands clasped together in a sagely manner. "Oh, dear Elenoth," she said, her voice soft and soothing, "I know what I am about to say may come as a great shock to you, but the truth is, I am your mother, and you are my long-lost son."

Assa's eyes darted towards Ero, their wordless, wide-eyed exchange conveying their shared disbelief.

"My name is Angeles, daughter of Esperanza, Queen of Artelia," she continued, "I have been searching for my son for seventeen long years. And you, my dear, as the possessor of both the royal crest, a mark bestowed only upon the descendants of the Esperanza bloodline, and the Artelia royal regalia," she gestured towards Assa's short sword, "are undoubtedly my son."

The revelation came without warning. What is she saying? What outrageous statement is this? For years, he had believed that Ero and he were brothers. Their supposed mother, Lina, had been the anchor of their existence, the sole reason for their struggles. Yet now, the woman he had always held dear was now claimed to be no more connected to him than mere strangers, replaced by the enigmatic woman in front of him. Assa wanted to laugh at her, to dismiss her without a shadow of a doubt, yet the words she spoke seemed too outlandish to be fabricated. Why would anyone come up with a lie no one could believe in?

"You're the Queen?" he exclaimed. "Of Artelia? And I'm your son? Come on, let's be real here. How can you expect me to believe such a fantastical tale? Can you even prove yourself to be the Queen in the first place?"

"Whatever proof I may have, it may not hold any meaning to you. For example, this signet ring," Angeles flashed a silver ring worn on her fourth finger. "This is the royal signet ring of Artelia, the symbol upon this ring is however only recognizable to the high lords and ministers. To you, it might as well be a child's scribbles. However, if you come with me, you will witness the citizens of Artelia welcoming us back to the Royal Palace with open arms. But Queen or not, I am still your mother. If I weren't, then how could I have known about the royal crest and the regalia? Here, I'll show you."

Placing her hands on her collarbones, "Insignea," she said, and a similar blue crest appeared just above the valley between her breasts, shining through the black lace. "Would you believe me now? Yes, it seems like I could have planted the crest as I spoke the incantation, I can see that, but what about the regalia? How could I have known you had such a thing? I'm sure you must have kept the sword as far away from prying eyes as possible."

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The words pouring out of her mouth, in Assa’s ear, sounded sure and sincere. Her assessment was spot on, almost none alive had seen his sword. Assa turned his gaze toward Ero, who seemed to be frozen from shock. They shared a quick glance at each other, and a realisation fell upon Assa.

It was Lina who bestowed these artefacts to the two of them, the golden short sword for Assa, and the pair of bloodstained daggers for Ero—her words absolutely adamant. It was Ero who inherited the legacy of their supposed father, a skilled Assassin according to the tales told by Lina, not Assa. The more Assa pondered, the more disconnected he seemed to his supposed family. Who was he truly?

Assa sank into a nearby chair. "If I am truly your son, then what am I doing here in this crapsack of a city?" he said mockingly, gesturing toward his surroundings. "Why did you leave me?"

Angeles, cloaked in sorrow and resolve, lowered herself upon the bed. "No dear, I would have never left you. You were abducted."

"Abducted, by who?" Assa retorted.

"By Karel, the former King of this country."

From his slump, Assa jolted forward, inclining toward Angeles, his paws clutching the arms of the chair. "King Karel?" he exclaimed.

"Yes, Karel. And not only Karel, but Avillar the usurper, and all neighbouring factions all sought to have you in their hands. I fought tirelessly to reclaim you, but alas, you were lost amidst the chaos. Nonetheless, I took measures to mark your identity. The Royal crest, branded at the day of your birth, and a regalia concealed within your mantle."

Angeles gave her reasons, but it only bombarded Assa with more inquiries. "But why?" Assa said. "Why did they want me?"

"You see," Angeles said. "The reason why many forces coveted you so, was because you had been chosen by the sword of Dragon's Bane, Realing Lïght, as its master."

"Huh?" A sword choosing him? Was she speaking in metaphors?

"Realing Lïght, was what we called a War Ender," Angeles elaborated, "A weapon of great prowess, said to bring an end to any conflict when wielded by its chosen master. This blade, in particular, possesses the might to vanquish dragons."

She lingered upon Assa's face, seeking comprehension before continuing her speech. "I am certain you have heard of Avillar," she continued. "Mystict's banished general, out of vengeance, returned with a legion of dragons and usurped the Kingdom from Karel. Faced against such force, it’s no wonder that Karel would desire the master of the sword that can slay dragons, and so did every other powerful clan who wished to safeguard themselves. That was why they wanted you so much."

Assa cast a side eye, the absurdity of the situation clawing at him. A sword that could end wars, a vanquisher of dragons, and he was supposed to be its master? It sounded like something out of a child's tale, not the missing chapter of his life. "This is," Assa stammered, "so utterly ridiculous. If you’re telling lies, you’re doing a terrible job, you know that."

"I know that this is a lot to take in, but you can forget about being a master of Realing Lïght if you so wish." Angeles rose from bed and approached Assa, her gentle hands danced upon his shoulders, her expression understanding. "I do not need you to wield some legendary sword and fight dragons, all I’ve ever wanted is to bring you home. So, what say you, dear Elenoth? Would you return home with mommy?"

Assa felt a lump in his throat, taken aback by the weight of the word she had spoken.

"If you're still uncertain, let me tell you this. You don’t even have to call me your mother right now," she continued. "That sort of thing can only come with time, I understand. But what is real is that I’m offering you a residence within the Royal Palace of Artelia. You are welcome there, always, no question asked. What say you, dear? I’m sure you’d prefer that over living in this, as you said earlier, crapsack of a city?" she giggled cheekily.

Such a life would be pleasurable, were her tidings indeed truthful. However, it was not the concern of Assa at this moment. He glanced over to Ero again, who caught his gaze in a sliver of a second before casting his eyes away, a hint of contempt flashing through his cold demeanour. What now?

"But, we will have unfinished matters to take care of," Assa said.

"And what is this matter you speak of? Perhaps I can offer you some form of assistance."

"We still need to rescue m-" He hesitated. Could he trust her with this? He stroked his chin, musing over his thoughts. "We still need to save the woman who took care of us during the chaos. It’s the least we should do," Assa enunciated.

"Are you, perhaps, talking about Lina?"

Assa stood, chair scraped against the floor. "You know her?!"

With graceful turn, Angeles beheld Ero, whose look of bewilderment mirrored Assa’s own feeling. "Pardon me, young man, but are you, perhaps a Zarathrustra?" she said.

Ero's body immediately shifted, his eyes widened even more, if that was possible. "I take that as a yes," the woman smiled, before beckoning her companion forward. "Allow me to introduce, this is my dear retainer, Nero, son Zarathustra."

"Zarathustra?!" Ero hissed.

Zarathustra was the name of Ero’s lineage, and once believed to be Assa's as well.

"Are you Zëro’s kid?" The man asked Ero. "Zëro is my younger brother. The Zarathustra bloodline has been serving under the royal bloodline of Artelia for generations. We are their protectors, their confidants, their shadows."

Lethargically, he drew a pair of daggers from behind his back, much to the awe of Assa and Ero. Their bloodstained edges, identical to the pair Ero possessed, confirmed his statement. "This pair of daggers are the signature weapons of the Zarathustra Assassins. I’m sure you must have seen something similar from your father," he said.

Ero nodded lightly, his expression ever cautious.

"How’s Zëro these days?" Nero continued.

"He’s… gone," Ero muttered, averting his gaze. "A long time ago."

"I see," the man sighed. "It will come to all of us, and for us especially, perhaps sooner than later."

"Lina and Zëro, they were valiant fighters," Angeles said somberly. "They tried their best to bring you, both of you, home, but it seemed fate had caught up with them first."

"Not Lina!" Assa exclaimed. "She’s still out there! We still have to save her!"

Assa’s sudden outburst startled Angeles slightly, but she soon returned with a gentle smile, "Then, let’s find her together. I’m sure as the Queen of Artelia, I can offer as much help as you desired. What say you, dear Elenoth? Simply say the words, and I will see to it."

Assa mused over his thoughts. He still needed to uncover the mystery of the morning prisoner. Would it be wise to reveal it to this lady who claimed herself to be the Queen? He searched his heart. The matter might not even be whether her words were truthful, but whether he was ready to believe them.

"Perhaps, give us a day to decide on this matter." Assa concluded.

Angeles blinked; confusion flashed within the flickers of her long lashes. "Understandable," at last, she fixed a contemplating smile. "Well then, think it through, alright? I’d love to take a trip around this city with you, maybe you can show me around. Crapsack you may call it, but I’m sure it still has some lovely places to visit. But alas, as the Queen, I still have businesses to tend to, thus I will have to excuse myself. Oh, you can have this room to yourself, or is it not up to your standard? If not, just say the word, and we can look for a better lodging."

"This will suffice, thank you."

"Marvellous," she smiled whole-heartedly. "I’m so glad to have finally found you. I hope you will come around. Well then, Elegael’s blessing with you, dear Elenoth."

"Take care," Nero, following Angeles, turned his back to address Ero.

With a final salute, the Queen and her retainer departed the room, while the two brothers stayed behind. The silence that followed stretched taut between them, filled only by the distant hum of the city beyond the windows, a city that now felt alien and treacherous.

"Lucky you, huh, master prince?" Ero's voice broke the silence.

"Hey," Assa smacked Ero’s arm, hoping to break the tension. "It’s not confirmed yet. Why you have to be so bitter about that?"

"I’m not bitter," Ero averted his gaze, his jaw clenching.

Assa rolled his eyes, a mixture of frustration and sympathy washing over him "Right, I’m so convinced right now, my brother." He could only guess what his brother was feeling now.

"And what if it’s true? You're gonna go back to her palace and live the rest of your days as a prince? How nice. And it seems like I am to be your servant, too," Ero spat out the words, crossing his arms, a glare shot out from the corners of his eyes.

"Of course not! We’re not done unless we rescue ma, me being a prince changed nothing!" Assa marched up to Ero and pressed his forearm against his chest. "We are brothers until the end, and nothing can change that. You hear me?"

Ero gazed at Assa momentarily, as if searching for a shadow of a doubt. Assa met him head-on, fierce and determined.

"Can I take your words for it?" Ero muttered.

"Of course," Assa said.

Ero closed his eyes briefly, a sigh escaping his lips as his body relaxed. "So what’s our plan now?" he said.

This time, it was Assa's turn to let out a sigh of relief, as he resumed his normal stance. "First, what do you think about that lady? Do you think she told the truth?" he said.

Ero stroked his chin for a while, before replying, "Everything seemed too outlandish to be a lie. If she wanted to deceive you, surely, she must have picked a more reasonable story. And she knows our mother, our father. And that man, Nero, who claimed to be our father’s brother. His knives are the same as mine. This seems too much to be a coincidence."

"So it would seem," Assa crossed his arm, staring at the ceiling.

"You seem unenthusiastic at the prospect of being a prince."

"I’m aware. I feel like I should be more ecstatic, but I’m not. Would you be excited she had told you that you were her son instead?

"Perhaps I would be too shocked to feel any sort of excitement over it."

"There you go. I guess we’re just simply too cautious, huh? That’s what you get when you lead a life full of trickery." Assa then changed his tone, now with a firm inflection. "But enough about that. There’s only one person who can confirm for sure the words that lady said, and that’s ma. And the prisoner in the morning, that could be her."

"Is that the reason you asked for one day to decide?"

"Exactly," Assa began walking back and forth, letting his thoughts free, "We have to make sure what she said is the full truth and the absolute truth. And tonight is our only chance to confirm that, and of course, save her as well. That's the only way we'll know. We have to…" Assa trailed off his last few words.

"And what if…" Ero said, before interrupting himself, shaking his head lightly. "No, you’re right. We have to see it for ourselves. I believe."

Assa smirked, extending his hand toward Ero, "Is that a yes I hear?"

Ero nodded, and with that, their mission became cleared.