Leaving The Slums

"...where are we going?" Anastasia asked quietly, her head lowered.

"Getting out of the stews would be a good start," Marek replied.

Marek had no intention of staying in the rundown house with Anastasia for more than a day or two. It was still a dangerous place, far beneath what he deemed suitable for both himself and Anastasia.

Right now, he longed for a normal place where they could settle gradually, building a decent life for themselves. Only after achieving that could he focus on his larger plans, the unfinished business he had left behind.

After another hour of walking, Marek and Anastasia safely made their way out of the slums, unscathed. Given Anastasia's striking appearance, it should have been nearly impossible to avoid drawing attention from those with ill intentions. However, Raizel was shadowing them closely. Marek couldn't tell how many people had died but truthfully several people who had followed them had vanished.

Marek had shared everything with Raizel about Anastasia, and any animosity or suspicion Raizel harbored quickly dissipated upon realizing that Anastasia was indeed one of them. Yet, Raizel couldn't shake off the jealousy she felt toward any woman close to Marek. It was a familiar feeling from Ajekreia, and it seemed it would persist here as well.

"Finally..." Marek muttered as they stepped out from the confines of the slums.

The air felt immediately fresher, the breeze more pleasant against their skin.

"Now..." Marek surveyed their surroundings with a careful eye.

His reason for wanting to leave the slums was clear. Travelers often passed through these areas, seeking a place to rest on their journeys. Additionally, merchants saw an opportunity in these crowded places, selling their wares at prices affordable for slum residents. It was a profitable venture.

Marek's goal was to find someone who could offer them a ride to the next town where he planned to stop.

Walking alongside Anastasia, he scanned the area for someone who seemed approachable and non-threatening.

Among the few merchants calling out to passersby, one in particular caught Marek's attention. He operated what seemed like a food truck, the aroma of roasted meatballs wafting enticingly from his stand. Despite the alluring smell, the merchant or more like peddler had a bored expression as he continued his work, skewering the meatballs onto sticks.

As two children approached, the peddler waved them off. "Sorry, kids, I can't give them away for free."

"Where are you headed next?" Marek asked, disregarding the man's initial dismissal.

The peddler met Marek's serious gaze with a raised eyebrow before replying, "I'm selling food from my carriage, kid. And yes, my next stop is the nearest village."

"Which is Aurham," Marek finished, seeking confirmation from the peddler.

"Aye, that's right. What about it?" The peddler asked casually, still focused on his cooking.

Marek glanced behind the peddler, taking note of the two horses pulling the carriage. While the back was filled with food and dishes, there seemed to be enough space at the front where the coachman would usually sit for both him and Anastasia.

"Are you traveling alone?" Marek asked seriously.

The peddler couldn't help but chuckle at Marek's demeanor. "You know, kid, your gaze and tone make it seem like you'll beat the daylights out of me if I don't answer right away."

Marek's expression remained stoic, but he felt Anastasia's touch on his arm, a gentle reminder. Taking a deep breath, he softened his features and offered a small smile.

"My apologies. This is my sister," Marek gestured to Anastasia beside him, "and we're looking to head to the nearest village out of here. Since you're clearly traveling, we were hoping you could give us a ride to your next destination. I have enough money to pay for it, of course." Marek shook his pouch, the clinking of copper and silver coins within punctuating his offer.

The peddler stroked his chin in thought, considering Marek's request as he glanced back and forth between Marek and Anastasia. He might have refused if Marek had been alone, sensing something amiss about the boy. However, the presence of the timid and adorable girl behind him swayed his decision.

"Fine. Four silver coins for the trip," the peddler finally agreed, his tone business-like.

Marek remained silent, though inside he struggled to contain his desire to kill the man and steal his carriage. Four silver coins was a significant amount, especially for those coming from the slums. The peddler had clearly seen the contents of Marek's pouch and knew he could afford it.

"Two silver coins," Marek countered.

"Three silver coins, and I'll throw in some skewers," the peddler bargained, offering two skewers from his stand.

Marek could hear Anastasia's stomach rumble at the mention of food. She blushed slightly, her gaze averting in embarrassment.

"Fine," Marek relented in the end, accepting the deal. He took the two skewers and handed one to Anastasia.

"T-Thank you!" Anastasia exclaimed gratefully, immediately digging into the skewer with joy.

"Then wait with me for a moment until I end–"

"No, we're leaving now," Marek cut off the peddler, who seemed intent on lingering to sell a bit more to the slum residents.

"Huh?" The peddler was taken aback by Marek's assertive tone.

"I offered you three silver coins, which is already generous. We need to go. You won't get much more business here, and night is approaching," Marek explained, swiftly moving to the front of the carriage and helping Anastasia up to sit on his right.

The peddler, scratched the back of his neck, glancing ahead where few people were approaching his expensive food truck. He sighed, realizing Marek's point. "Right," he conceded, quickly packing away his items and taking his place on Marek's left.

"By the way, I'm Alan," he introduced himself as he urged the horses to move forward.

"..." Marek remained silent, focused on the road ahead, while Anastasia continued happily munching on her skewer.

"You know, at times like these, you usually say your names," Alan said awkwardly, breaking the silence.

"Arthur," Marek replied shortly.

"Anastasia," she chimed in between bites, her mouth still occupied with the delicious food.

"...what a mood," Alan muttered to himself, shaking his head slightly as they began their journey towards Aurham.

'Prometheus, inform Raizel to follow us from a safe distance. Instruct her to eliminate anyone suspicious and dispose of the bodies,' Marek ordered.

[Yes, Milord.]

As they journeyed towards Aurham, Marek couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. He hadn't expected the Holy Knights to be investigating this area already.

I didn't anticipate the Holy Knights being already here. 

Fortunately, it seemed they were unaware of his involvement, but the encounter with Carl Armford lingered in Marek's mind.

That man…

Carl was undeniably strong for a human of his age, a fact that Marek had noted during their brief encounter. Though Raizel could dispatch him easily, Marek made a mental note to remember his face, just in case. There was something about Carl that left an impression on Marek.

…

…

"We'll take a break here. You both should get some sleep," Alan announced, bringing the carriage to a stop.

"When do we expect to arrive in Aurham?" Marek asked, his voice tinged with weariness.

Stroking his horses' mane, Alan pondered for a moment before responding, "We should reach there by tomorrow morning. You should rest while you can."

Marek glanced around, realizing they were in the middle of nowhere with only sandy ground around them. He'd rather stay seated on the bench of the carriage, especially with Anastasia beside him.

Sensing Marek's hesitation, Alan reached for a folded sheet and tossed it to him. "Here, use this. I'll keep watch for a few hours."

Marek accepted the sheet and gently wrapped it around Anastasia. "You should get some rest, Anastasia," he suggested softly.

"What about you?" Anastasia asked, concern in her voice.

"I'm not tired," Marek replied simply, before gently casting a sleep spell on the exhausted Anastasia. Soon enough, her eyes closed, and she drifted into a peaceful slumber. Marek carefully placed her head on his lap, ensuring she was comfortable.

"You should rest too, kid," Alan urged, raising an eyebrow.

"It's fine," Marek replied curtly, his gaze distant.

"You don't trust me, huh?" Alan chuckled lightly, sensing Marek's guarded demeanor.

"Do I need to answer that?" Marek replied with a stern look, his eyes scanning the surroundings even though he knew Raizel was nearby.

With Anastasia sleeping peacefully, Marek remained alert, keeping his senses sharp as he watched over her.

"You're quite the overprotective and caring brother, aren't you? Anastasia is lucky to have you, Arthur," Alan said sincerely, observing Marek's gentle gesture of patting Anastasia's hair.

Marek's gaze drifted down to Anastasia, his thoughts momentarily consumed by memories of his biological brothers and sisters from Ajekreia. Two of them had tragically died, and the other two had been sent to a different world to protect their lives. He had always been harsh with them, unable to express how much he truly cared for them and how fortunate he felt to have them by his side until the very end.

With a pang of regret, Marek realized that he had similarly distanced himself from his Apostles, consumed by his obsession with the High Sovereigns because of what they had taken from him. He had lost sight of the bond he once shared with them while they all remained loyal to him.

This time... things will be different.

Marek muttered to himself, his hand continuing to gently pat Anastasia's head as he contemplated the future.

"So I am," he finally replied to Alan, his thoughts drifting to Raizel and Prometheus.