Chapter 57: Bright Shadows (1)
"That’s enough, don’t you think so?" He repeated.
My head slowly turned towards him, my gaze devoid of any form of warmth as I spoke, "Let go."
He didn’t show any signs of change in his expression as he replied, "I’m sure you’re angry at someone, but taking it out on this poor dude is just wrong."
The crowd hummed in agreement, their faces riddled with shock and fear as they cast fleeting glances at me.
"He insulted Miriam," I argued.
"He was drunk," he countered.
My gaze turned to the swollen face, his blood and tears becoming indistinguishable, and flitted to the completely chipped pieces of wood scattered around his face.
’Is this what I’ve become? Some edgy main character who can’t take control of his emotions?’
I released my grip on the man’s collar and slowly stood up with his help.
"Densdor? Is that you?" A patron called out hesitantly.
’Densdor? Why does that name sound very familiar?’
My eyebrows furrowed as I watched his back as he talked with the same person who distracted me during my fight with a smile that completely betrayed the situation.
....
"What are you doing here? And with someone like...him?" Drok asked with hidden apprehension as he watched the bloodied-faced man stand above his latest victim with a blank expression.
"Hehe, I got tired of school and decided to find something exciting to do. I guess this counts as interesting, no?"
Drok sighed heavily whilst casting fleeting glances at Clark as he asked, "Isn’t that guy some kind of noble?"
Densdor’s eyebrows raised slightly; with a thoughtful expression, he replied, "I don’t think so though; he didn’t have that air of arrogance those young snobs had."
With his hands under his chin, he added, "I don’t think he has any air to start with; he’s like...a shell or a ghost...yeah, a ghost is more like it."
Drok’s eyes widened, and he immediately held Densdor’s shoulders tightly. "Aren’t those the same characteristics of necromancers? Are you sure he isn’t the young master of the Gravesend family or their other branches?!"
Densdor’s lip formed an O shape as he thought about it. "It’s possible, but don’t they usually have, like, a gloomy aura around them?"
"Isn’t that gloomy enough for you?!" Drok gestured at Clark, whose eyes were focused on their direction, causing him to shiver lightly.
"Hmm...not really; he’s more like a wild animal who’s been through a lot," Densdor replied, oblivious to the pair of eyes on him.
The crowd had long left the tavern, leaving only Densdor, Drok, Clark, and the employees, who were hidden in different places.
Drok didn’t respond anymore, beads of sweat rolling down his face as he stared past Densdor. The temperature of the tavern had gone down a few degrees, and the eerie calm that followed added an edge to the tension.
"You’re... Kurt’s son?"
A voice came out low and cold, but a faint tremor lingered beneath it, something between melancholy and anger.
Densdor turned around with confusion on his face for the first time as he spoke, "You know my father?"
Clark replied with a low voice, "Know him? Haha...I guess you could say that"
Tapping him lightly, Drok gestured his departure and flew out of a broken window immediately he caught sight of the empty eyes that cast a glance towards him.
The poor man that had been beaten to a bloody pulp still lay on the ground and could only watch as his potential saviors left the tavern steadily—employees and customers alike.
Densdor’s eyebrows slammed together. "What do you mean?"
The cracking of knuckles sounded in the room as Densdor watched Clark pick up his victim and throw him into the street through a broken window.
"It was interesting knowing you, but I don’t think whatever relationship you’re trying to foster here is going to work with the type of relationship you have with that man—and by extension, me."
Without waiting for his response, Clark left the tavern with an unreadable expression.
"...What just happened?" Densdor muttered to himself, "He clearly knows my father from somewhere; maybe he’s friends with him, considering he made his cloak and they had a falling out?"
Only Densdor’s mutters could be heard in the empty tavern, the low sirens ringing in the distance, the low groans of the man who slowly got up with a pained expression, and the sizzling meat left on a blue flame.
"I’ll just ask Father what happened—if he even remembers, that is."
Making up his mind, Densdor walked out of the destroyed inn with a thoughtful expression as he decided to keep his distance from Clark to avoid any unnecessary altercations.
’He was a nice guy, though.’
What an odd thing to say....
.....
’To think my shadows would somehow catch up to me—dressed in light.’
The bright lights of the paved streets and the continuous chatter of the people looked like they would stretch deep into the night. The never-ending scent of fried meat mixed with incense from the different stalls permeated my nose as I walked.
"...For a moment there, I thought..."
My chest tightened lightly, but yet again, I wasn’t allowed to feel disappointment.
’Maybe if I killed that man, those emotions would’ve been permanent,’ I reasoned.
Although I knew it was probably a false notion, I still decided to cling onto it. To avoid falling back into that pit of my mind where all my dark memories resided.
The wooden stair creaked beneath me as I leaned back, eyes fixed on a sky littered with stars—so vivid, so unreal compared to Earth’s dull haze that I was accustomed to.
It would’ve been nice if a faint smile tugged at my lips. But I had a feeling what hung on my lips was a crooked smile that betrayed the emotions I hoped I would feel in that moment.
"Laura... Are you looking at the same sky? Probably not; you’re far away from me now, in your own world. I hope you’re not finding it as hard as I am, though. I think I have a traumatic disorder, but I don’t blame you; this whole reincarnation thing is way too realistic for me, y’know?"
The words flew out of my mouth as I stared at the glittering stars. I didn’t feel like releasing everything I felt or didn’t feel to literally nobody, but there was something comforting about the darkness littered with light; the peaceful coexistence refreshed my dark soul for as long as I stared at it.
The streets eventually grew empty, and even the stars slowly receded to their homes with reluctance.
The once wonderful sky eventually grew empty, dark, and without form. Only the light clouds that floated into view from time to time desperately showed signs of life.
"All forms of light—slow burning or not—will eventually fizzle out. Then what’s the point of shining in the first place?"
"To think a few hammer shots to my skull is the cause of all this...haha"
A hoarse sound left my throat, too jagged to be called laughter but too real not to be acknowledged.
I slowly stood up from the crealy floorboard and wore my hooded my cloak as I walked to shield me from the cold.
Low murmurings came from a short distance from where I was walking and my ears picked up a faint comment.
"We have to finish off Miriam first. I heard she’s going through Lordyck road, we can ambush her there and take care of her guards"
’Why does everyone seek to take the only things I want to hold dear to myself? Am I that unfortunate?’
I wordlessly followed the faint voices and tracked them to an isolated building not too far off from where I stood previously.
The cover of the night prevented me from making out their features, but [Eagle’s eye] finally displayed it’s usefulness.
Jumping on to the roof of the building they entered, I examined the building and made sure only the two of them were present.
Placing my focus on them, I strained my eyes and the faint light surrounding the two individuals seemed to increase, their outfits and build came into view.
’Crimson Blade? They’ve been unusually silent these past two months, so what are these two doing here?’ My thoughts raced as I leaned closer to eavesdrop on their conversation and plan my next line of action as well.
"I can’t believe the F–rank seriously followed us here, what is his deal?" One of them spoke
"Any being that hears the name Miriam and trouble in the same sentence would automatically want to be the knight in shining armor for her."
"Too bad her fans are weaker than the last! Huahaha"
Their low cackles brought more and more confusion to my face.
’Lure? Could all of this have been set up beforehand? What’s their goal with me though?’
’I’m wasting time thinking about these useless things, I better get out of—’
Before I could turn around, I felt a palm pressing hard against my shoulder, a breath hot against my neck as it spoke:
"Hie hie hie, who do we have here today? A new prey! Is what!!"