“Y-yes, I can,” albeit after a while, the figure spoke again as he regained proper breathing. Still, shivering both in the figure and the tongue, it wasn’t easy for him to do so. “Th-th-thank you, mi-mister,” he said, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.

  “Are you hungry?” Lutiel asked swiftly, sensing his ready nods despite not turning around. “Point me to an inn that pays with demonic money, then. I’ll treat you,” he added, retrieving identical reactions from the man.

  Some words and streets later, he roped Runi next to the other horses near the building. Putting the younger man on top of his right shoulder, he kicked the door lightly before inviting himself in the murky space.

  Watching as only crystals on walls illuminated the inn, along with weak candles set on each table, he ignored all the gazes swiftly set on him, letting the drunkards to themselves whilst walking over to the empty counter.

  Immediately, a figure engulfed his sight. Donning a skimpy dress, the innkeeper’s bodice burst her chest out, showing the bare mounds without beating an eye. Looking up and down at the shadowy figure, she kept standing with a leisurely position, breathing in the long stick with a rounded end before its content burned away, a swift puff of white floating towards him.

  “What do you want?” Her blank face asked, keeping her eyes at the newcomer’s shadowed face.

  “Give me some dinner with a fatty piece of meat. As well as some bread and ale,” he uttered, promptly seeing her throw a sparse glance at the man he was carrying before turning back at him, seemingly not interested any longer.

  “Ten bronze dracars,” she spoke, putting the stick out of her mouth only for it to be briskly placed underneath the counter as she saw the silver shine around his palm. “I’ll be back with the food in a minute,” the innkeeper added, giving him the change before going through the door leading deeper into the building.

  Meanwhile, Lutiel walked with the man towards one of the empty areas, placing him on a chair before watching his weak body slump slightly on the table. Powerless throughout, he could only release a deep breath before glancing at his savior.

  Before long, whilst the man kept staring at him, the innkeeper came by, though only carrying the ale. “C-can I?” The enfeebled man asked, receiving nippy nods before bringing his left arm out, showing the skin practically clinging to the bone.

  Searching through his body once more, Lutiel couldn’t help but inhale a bit deeper after seeing his hand shake uncontrollably, barely able to hold the wooden cup still.

  However, using the other one to support himself, the man quickly brushed his upper lip with the foam atop the surface, steadily raising the mug whilst spilling some of it along the edges of his mouth. “Haa,” he exclaimed soundly, almost dropping the wood at the table before Lutiel’s palm supported it.

  With somewhat widened eyes, the man glanced at the cloaked figure, abruptly lowering his head as he peered through the meek shadows dissipated by the candle. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were-”

  “I’m not, I’m a human,” Lutiel swiftly cut him off, only to follow on. “I just have eyes rarer than most,” he said, promptly watching the man’s meek nods play out. ‘He doesn’t believe me, huh?’

  “I’m a slave of a demon, but I was able to run away. Do you want me to show you the brand?” He asked quietly, his arms crossed whilst sitting with an erect back

  “N-no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to judge you. I… I just saw you getting on with that demonic caravan. I was sure you were one as well,” the man explained, looking around at the table and simultaneously fidgeting with the bony fingers.

  “It doesn’t matter. My name’s Thomas, Thomas Mer,” the pale face uttered out, quickly getting the other’s head to turn at him. Staring with troubled eyebrows, they squirmed only to fall silent after a few breaths.

  “I’m James,” he said slowly, once again turning towards the table’s surface, looking around his hands. “I have no surname, so, just call me James,” muttering, he stooped low, not raising his head at his words despite more of them coming forward.

  “How old are you?”

  “Seventeen,” he spoke tersely, swiftly shutting up before Lutiel glanced at his slim cheeks, seemingly showing his skull’s outline from how thin he was.

  “...” Lingering silently around his face, he watched his eyes light up in a quiet manner, hiding away as the steaming, wooden plate was brought out to him. Filled with potatoes smothered in a thick, brown sauce, along with slices of pink meat that possessed a hefty line of fat sprawling down the side, James couldn’t really focus around the kind stranger anymore.

  Placed right in front of him as well, albeit a bit dry, the large piece of bread made him shiver with an open mouth, briskly looking at Lutiel. And, receiving a nod of approval, the teen wasted no efforts in devouring the food, forbidding himself from using the wooden utensils the woman had placed before leaving towards the counter.

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  Taking the meat before putting the whole slice into his mouth, the boy closed his eyes, munching through the food with a heavy pant. Meanwhile, Lutiel simply took his empty mug, raising it towards the innkeeper and sending a glance.

  As the young man kept stuffing himself with the dinner like a starved animal, the innkeeper discreetly exchanged the ales, putting it right beside the man and catching his sight.

  Sparing the glance he threw at her, James stopped eating to wash the food with the new drink, promptly returning after a large swig. Breath after breath, as the loud atmosphere in the inn grew rather than abated, James finally licked his fingers clean, letting no sauce go to waste.

  Breaking the bread apart quickly, he made sure to smear it along the plate, almost leaving it fully clear before putting the piece inside his mouth.

  Only as he finished did the boy finally slow in motions, catching his belly whilst sitting. Growling heavily, his figure quivered, feeling just how much he had put into himself in such a short frame of time. Regardless, some light returned to his face, raising his head to the man before him. “Thank you, mister Thomas, thank you so much…”

  Uttering whilst lowering his head, James put his chin on top of the clasped hands. “May Lucien show his light to those as good as you,” he said softly, finally looking at the somewhat disfigured expression of the man. Furrowing his eyebrows at the words, he moved the matter on the side, focusing on the more important information instead.

  “James, do you remember much of the capital’s recent past?” Suddenly asked Lutiel, promptly seeing James’ thinking expression before he nodded harshly.

  “I believe so,” with a softer tone, he said. “Why do you ask?”

  “I haven’t been here for the past ten years, nor could I hear anything from the place I was staying at. Tell me what happened after the heroes died,” he spoke, immediately souring the brows of the boy.

  Leaning out to the side, he looked at the rest of the tables, only to sigh in relief as the voices didn’t stagger about. “What?” Lutiel asked immediately, glancing curiously at the boy.

  “We need to be quieter, that topic is a bit sensitive around these parts,” James said, making the man’s eyebrows churn faintly.

  “What do you mean?” He asked again, prompting the teen to glance around the space anew, finally putting his hands around the mouth to quiet down further. However, prolonging with the response, he swiftly sighed once more, this time, in indignation.

  “We should go somewhere more remote. Let’s not bring ourselves unnecessary trouble from these guys,” he said, peering at the faintly armored men drinking their hearts out. With a momentary look behind himself, Lutiel simply agreed to his request, promptly walking together with the boy outside of the inn before helping him get on his horse.

  Quickly enough, they started moving past the outer parts of the city, visiting the deeper, less popular areas whilst the sky turned away from them, blending in with the shadows. After a few minutes of searching, James pointed him to a certain alley, empty of a single soul.

  Not even a sole rat ran through the littered, narrow space. Finally, searching around himself before seeing that no one followed them, James could raise his voice a little.

  “You know nothing more than the death of the heroes, right?” He asked, prompting a nod from the man leaning over the stone wall. “There’s going to be quite a lot I need to explain to you, then.”

  “That doesn’t concern me. Say everything that you know.”

  “Alright,” James said lightly, nodding his head at the same time. “Everything started to change when the smaller villages and cities close to the holy capital began to move over here from the threat of demons. At first, we were scared. We thought that the demons were going to attack any day, and nobody could witness the heroes for some eerie reason. But…”

  Listening intently with close brows, Lutiel kept silent the whole time, not uttering a single breath louder than the wind around them. Still, he couldn’t help but muse internally. ‘Did the church do something?’

  “It only got worse the more weeks passed,” James continued, brushing through his long and dark, unkempt hair. “The saintess, she didn’t go out into the public as usual. She kept to herself in the Light Palace, not responding to us in any way. And much like weeks before, the heroes were nowhere to be seen,” he said with creased brows, looking down at the cobbled alley.

  Yet, he wasn’t done. Parting his lips after the brief, silent break, he added on after glancing at Lutiel. “Then, another thirteen months passed before we got nothing, but dread. We spent one whole year waiting for any signs of either of the three, with the church finally replying to our wishes.”

  “Hmm? What did they say?” Lutiel suddenly interjected, grabbing his crossed arms tighter. Staring deeply at the young man, he swiftly nodded his head.

  “Apparently, the whole continent was surrounded by demons, and for the previous fifteen months, they were fighting them off every day,” he said quietly, his eyes widened a bit before coming back to the ground again. “Initially, most of us were happy after hearing that they were alive, however, we quickly realized just how dangerous the situation sounded.”

  Staring at Lutiel with questioning brows, he asked. “Just how many of the demons were they fighting? Wasn’t it too much, even for them?” Saying so, he couldn’t help but shake his head, falling low again as some of the light in his eyes faded away.

  “We were foolish,” he continued. “Foolish to think everything was alright. One week after the pope’s announcement, saintess Sheila finally came out from hiding, however, she wasn’t her usual self anymore.”

  Trembling slightly in the eyes, James recalled everything, speaking out the faintest details to the cloaked figure’s tightly clenched arms. “I was there that day, when I was just eight years old. Her golden hairs lacked their usual shine, nor were they properly tidied up. The skin under her eyes was utterly dark, as though she hadn’t slept for nights on end, not to mention the tainted dress she was wearing at the time,” he said, clenching the hem of his shirt somewhat.