Raphael’s question lingered in the air, the atmosphere inside The Chalice turning heavy. Ron already knew he couldn’t hide his niece’s dispute with the Flaming Fists forever, but had a sliver of hope that it wouldn’t come to light so soon, especially now that they were going to solve it 'formally'.
Ron let out a sigh, as he placed the now empty cup on the counter, and met Raphael’s gaze with a solemn stare.
“The issue was resolved quickly, and your precious niece wasn’t harmed. I didn’t deem it necessary to inform you.” He said calmly, almost as if his words had been rehearsed over and over. He was that kind of man, after all, and had to deal with all kinds of similar situations. Raphael’s eyes narrowed.
“She wasn’t hurt so it’s all good, huh? You know what kind of pain she went through with those assholes.” He paused, noticing his fist was trembling slightly.
He inhaled slowly, trying to compose himself. His expression turned pained, his gaze a concerned one.
“She just wanted to fit in somewhere, and these scumbags took advantage of her naïveté with sugar-coated words and promises of friendship. Even you, who sold your soul for money, should feel angry at the bastards.” Raphael continued, his voice slowly taking a furious undertone.
“If Selly wasn’t there… I don’t even want to imagine where she would’ve ended up—sold to some degenerate, or worse. And you don’t want to imagine what I would’ve done to them.” Ron tensed up, feeling the older man’s anguish mixed with an unworldly pressure.
He knew that Raphael felt a duty to protect the girl in the past, solely out of guilt. But it was clear that these two had become a family now.
He brought both hands to the counter and interlocked his fingers in a pensive pose he was accustomed to. “I apologize, old friend. The bureaucratic life is taking a toll on me.” Ron smiled softly, a hint of regret on his expression. Raphael simply appraised him with an impassive stare.
“I understand where you’re coming from. I did my best to handle the situation, and they’re going to work it out in the colosseum… so please, don’t do anything rash, I beg you.” His voice near the end seemed almost shaky, as his facade was crumbling before Raphael.
It’s not like he wanted to protect the Flaming Fists—it would be better for New Lumingard if they simply disappeared—but things weren’t that easy. Bigwigs deemed these chaotic Guild’s presences necessary for the city’s economy, as horrible and dark as that sounded. Removing a Guild that held part of the city’s underbelly in a tight grip would bring forth a lot of problems.
But what he was truly afraid of was the older gentleman standing behind the counter. He didn’t want to picture the unholy sight of what Raphael would leave in his wake if his old wrath were unleashed. He gulped slowly at these thoughts. Raphael, seeing the man’s expression, let out a sigh and clicked his tongue.
“Alright Ron, I will stay my hand for now… but know that even the slightest graze will force it.” Raphael’s promise seemed to dispel the worried mood that hung over Ron, who smiled in relief. Ron himself counted his lucky stars, and thanked the passage of time that appeared to have made Raphael a bit softer. He knew that in the past, the situation would’ve been vastly different.
Not wanting to overstay, he rummaged in his suit pocket and took out his wallet. He placed a bill beside the cup, and a metallic-looking card above it. Raphael raised an eyebrow, confused by the second object. Peering at him, Ron decided to explain.
“I know you weren’t going to charge me for the coffee… But it would be criminal not to pay for the best services out there! And this…” He pointed at the rectangular card.
“This is for Ascalon, who requested monetary assistance. Since he won’t be using the facilities I offered to him, I converted them into assets and added a little bonus for him.” Ron smiled politely, as Raphael let out a curious 'hmmm'.
After a few seconds, the older man scratched his beard softly, making a troubled expression while clicking his tongue. “If he needed money he should’ve asked me, am I not being a good host?” Asked Raphael, a worried half smile forming on his face. At the sight, Ron chuckled softly, closing his eyes briefly.
“I’m sure it’s exactly because you’re a good host that he doesn’t want to impose on your generosity further. Anyway, I just came for this, so I’ll take my leave.” Added Ron, as Raphael took the card and the money and stored it behind the counter.
As the suited man left, Raphael’s voice rang through the tavern once more. “I’ll pass the card onto him, and… I’m sorry the mood turned sour, Ron.” He spoke awkwardly, not used to these kinds of situations. Ron simply raised a hand and waved without turning back, though Raphael could feel his old friend smiling.
As Ron stepped outside, an entourage began to shadow him. One of them was the woman Ascalon had met at the park, who approached the man and spoke in a low, secretive voice.
“Mr. Ron, the L'adariel’s monster maid is in the vicinity, should we secure an escape route?” At her words, Ron sighed and facepalmed. She was still so wet behind the ears, and perhaps even thought to herself that she was in some kind of spy movie.
“She was here before we arrived, and even if we were on L'adariel’s bad side, they wouldn’t go for a replaceable spokesperson like me. Just-just follow your orders.” He replied, his voice showed irritation. He waved her away with one hand while rubbing his temples with the other, and she bowed nervously before stepping back into the shadows. Ron let out an exhausted breath, and decided to just zone out until he arrived at headquarters.
----------------------------------------
At the same time, the maid they were referring to was ignoring their presence entirely. She sat on a tree branch, her legs pressed to each other as they dangled below, alongside her sophisticated dress. Her posture was straight, with her hands resting neatly on her lap. If her cheeks weren’t flushed, one would think she was a pale, human-sized doll.
The L'adariel’s clan leader had ordered her to keep tabs on his grandson, Selorien. A simple task for a woman of her professionality and skills. Yet, even if she thought highly of herself in that regard, her eyes were fixed on the blonde man.
Ever since their last encounter, her mind was plagued by the wanderer’s presence. She had been daydreaming about him constantly, yet managed to do her job just fine thanks to her strict upbringing and her resiliency. But with him in the flesh, and not just a figment of her imagination, her task had been relegated to a lesser priority without her realizing it.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
She shifted nervously as she gazed upon the knight with a hazy stare. He showed so many openings it made no sense, especially after being forced into submission by just a stare from him. It was as if he was inviting—no, daring others to try and test their luck.
Her right hand trembled, moving slowly over her maid’s dress as her breath grew more ragged. “No. Not outside, Escarlata.” She whispered to herself with a hint of regret, as she stopped her hand and placed it beside her, on the branch.
Escarlata wanted to succumb to her swirling feelings, a mix of excitement, bloodlust, and curiosity. What would it be like to fight him, giving their all in battle? Though she knew she was no match, she felt intrigued by how towering was his… strength.
Then, what would it feel like to dominate him? Or… to be dominated? She let out an anguished gasp, and shook her head. Escarlata noticed she was behaving like an entirely different person when the blonde man was in her mind, and it was unbecoming. What would her sisters think if they saw her act like this? It would be amusing, at the very least.
But as much as she tried to suppress these feelings, she just couldn’t put a lid on them. It was a first, for sure, and conflicted thoughts reigned her mind. She swung her legs playfully like a child and covered her face, muffling small, delighted cries.
----------------------------------------
Lilithra and Selorien kept training for a couple of hours. Ascalon felt chills run down his spine multiple times, and thought that maybe, after all these years, he was coming down with a cold. It wasn’t anything to dwell over, though.
He approached his friends, who were now resting around one of the tables he had cleaned in the morning, and commended them for their efforts.
“Lady Lilithra, Selorien, you both did great today!” He exclaimed, showering them with an earnest smile. Lilithra beamed, her eyes glistening at the praise, and Selorien rubbed his nose in embarrassment, smirking softly.
Then, Lilithra nodded a few times, seemingly resolving herself for something, and looked up to meet the knight’s gaze once again. She clenched her fists, her face a nervous but determined one.
“Uhm, M-Master! You can c-call me Lil…” She blurted with anxiousness, and began to blush. Ascalon watched over her, taken slightly aback.
“Lil-Lilithra…! Uhm, it’s not fair that you dropped the honorifics just with Selly!” Lilithra backpedaled a bit, feeling a tad too embarrassed. Maybe she wasn’t ready to hear him call her ‘Lil’. But! She did feel like the ‘lady’ treatment was putting some distance between them, and she wanted it gone.
Ascalon relaxed a bit after hearing her fully, and sighed softly before replying to her suggestion. “Very well, Lilithra.” His tone was tender, with a sprinkle of happiness.
Lilithra’s face felt like it was melting, a few excited squeals escaped his mouth as she smiled and hid behind her hair. Ascalon thought she always reacted in the most adorable and jovial ways. Selorien, too, basked in the warm scene.
Afterward, they spent a good while just chatting, enjoying the fresh breeze as night began to dawn on them. Though it was fast approaching, the Guild War didn’t seem to worry them that much anymore. There was no tension in the air, but confidence and anticipation.
At some point, Raphael approached them with a tired pace, his face showing a bit of exhaustion but also a hint of pride. The three friends looked at him, a mix of curiousness and surprise in their expressions.
“Whew! I must say I outdid myself today. You guys should come in before it gets cold!” He blurted out of nowhere, his tone of voice was full of energy. Then, anticipating the group’s questions, he simply turned around and went back to the bar, leaving them hanging.
Lilithra and Selorien caught on pretty quickly, their mouths almost drooling as they smiled with happiness. Lilithra focused on Ascalon, beaming at him with an excited voice as she swayed in her seat.
“Master! Prepare your tummy!” She exclaimed effusively, standing up with a jump. She hurriedly ran after Raphael. Selorien nodded at the knight, and also sprinted toward The Chalice’s interior.
Ascalon was left alone, an astonished look on his face, and sighed in resignation as he stood up. He looked around one last time, feeling satisfaction at his early endeavors with the garden, and felt a growing desire to keep tending to the place. Perhaps he could fix up some of the damaged bits, and replace the cracked tiles with new ones… but that would have to wait. For now, he headed inside, too.
The Chalice was empty, which confused Ascalon for a moment. It was usually bustling at that time of the night, he thought. But soon, his good eye focused on their usual seats at the counter. The long table was to the brim with food, a similar sight to the first night he had spent with them.
A nostalgic feeling assaulted him, as his stomach started rumbling with anticipation. His two friends were already seated, but looked at him as if to urge him to join them, which he promptly did.
They all admired the large array of dishes laid before them, while Raphael appeared from the kitchen with a bottle of what appeared to be old wine. His cheery voice rang through the almost vacant hall.
“Now then! I want you to enjoy this meal to the fullest, and do your best at the Guild War!” He exclaimed, a bold smile on his lips. Selorien was a bit taken aback, but soon realized that Lilithra had probably told him about the fight with the Flaming Fists. It was a bit surprising, but Raphael didn’t seem angry so it didn’t matter!
Lilithra felt a bit shy, basking in her uncle’s gratitude. She could always count on him, and knew that no matter what, he was her family. But before she delved too deep into her thoughts, Raphael spoke again.
“Now go ahead, I closed up early so there won’t be any interruptions! Eat and celebrate, and then kick their asses!” He laughed fiercely, perhaps already a bit drunk. He served some of the wine to the rest, though Lilithra’s glass was clearly smaller than the others.
Ascalon watched as she sipped a small gulp, her face grimacing as she shivered, yet she smiled in the end and began indulging in the food. Selorien was already eating, delighting himself with the delicacies, so Ascalon was the only one left. He sighed, content with the sight around him, the warmth that The Chalice held within.
He followed suit, and ate alongside them. As time passed, he shared stories, laughed, and conversed with his friends. Slowly, but surely, he had already made a place for himself in New Lumingard.
Amidst all the joy and celebration, he failed to perceive that weird, unknown feeling, once again.
⌠ “A~, ~ow ~ ~i~h ~o ~e a~ y~~r ~id~ ~~d ~o~~er~~ w~t~ y~u, ~oo.” ⌡
The cryptic, lingering echo didn’t catch his attention, and the night went on until it was almost bedtime.
Selorien was a bit tipsy, having downed multiple glasses of wine, but seemed to be quite accustomed to alcohol. Raphael was in a similar state, his face slightly flushed but his mind still sharp.
Lilithra, on the other hand, was smiling absentmindedly at her empty glass, her cheeks burning with a scarlet color, clearly the most affected by the drink. Ascalon’s passive resistance kept him from feeling intoxicated, so he remained the same as usual—though he was enjoying himself all the same.
The elf was the first to leave, like always, and Raphael helped Lilithra up the stairs and to her room. Ascalon felt like tidying up a bit to lend the master a hand, and then stretched his body to let out some of the day’s exhaustion. He watched with satisfaction the piled-up plates and neatly organized cups.
He felt a tad different now, as he was discovering new sides of himself while being shaped by newfound experiences. He smiled contentedly, and headed to his room. The Guild War was just around the corner, and he wanted to witness the result of their training.