Chương 20: Chapter 19 - A Chance Meeting?

The yellow sun climbed all the way to its peak, where it continued to shine down brightly over the Crossroads. And even with all that time passing, Ren, Elowen, and Lorelle had barely scratched the surface of everything the main road had to offer. Just as Ren had seen from the entrance gate, the stalls lining the road were stocked with anything and everything a person could ever want.

Enticing aromas drifted from those selling all manner of delectable goods, from pies and large cuts of roasting meat to curious fruits he'd never ever seen before. Others hawked antique keepsakes and ancient-looking artifacts, some labelled at upwards of ten gold pieces. The party hadn't so much as stepped inside any of the actual, closely-packed shops behind the stalls, and already there was this much to see.

And that wasn't even counting the constant flow of wagons rolling past them, each one piled high with a whole slew of different wares.' This place has got to have everything!

'Ren marvelled, taking in the general buzz around him while Lorelle and Elowen inspected a stall selling necklaces just beside him.' Is Solaris even bigger than this? Was Losso going to be this big too?' He glanced back to where Varrin stood some steps away, arms crossed over his chest as he scanned the surrounding crowd with cautious eyes. Even as guarded as he was, the silver-haired boy carried himself with an easy and effortless grace that made him look entirely at home amid the bustle.

More than a few onlookers stole lingering glances at his striking features as they passed, but Varrin paid them no mind at all, utterly unfazed by the attention.' Varrin seems used to it at least,'Ren thought with a smile.' I wonder if he grew up somewhere similar?' Noticing his gaze, Varrin turned his attention to him before frowning.

"What's got you so giddy?"

"Nothing," Ren assured innocently, "I was just thinking about how at ease you looked."

"Just something you learn to do while living in the slums," the silver-haired boy said with a scoff.

"Look to guarded in a crowded place like this and your basically screaming you have something worth stealing."

"Is that where you grew up? The slums of Losso?" Ren asked quickly, excited that his thoughts were about to be answered so soon, and that he was finally going to learn a little more about the ever-guarded Varrin.

"What does it matter?" the silver-haired boy responded with a frown.

"A person's background has no bearing on their innate strength. It doesn't matter where I was born, I'm still going to be strong regardless." The answer stunned Ren a little and he tried to collect his thoughts.

"That's not... I didn't mean—""Are you girls gonna buy anything?" an irritated voice cut him off.

"You're clogging up all my Flaming traffic just standing there!" He turned to see the angry shopkeeper who was manning the small jewellery stall crossing his hairy arms and tapping a foot impatiently against the stone road. There was clearly no other customers browsing his wares or waiting to be served, so both Lorelle and Elowen looked up in mild surprise, though each of them for slightly different reasons.

"You shouldn't take the Eternal Flame's name in vain," the young Firekeeper said, pursing her lips.

"And what if we were paying customers?" Elowen added as she put her hands on her hips.

"This type of behaviour is not how you keep people coming back. I'll have you know I am a part of House Aelcryth, so with a flick of my wrist, I could have you shut down and shunned forever!" The regal elf flicked her blue hair out as if to prove something, but the shopkeeper was having none of it at all.

"Don't get your strangely coloured hair all over my wares!" he snapped angrily.

"And what do I care if you're from some Family I've never heard of? They can't be that well off if that's the case." Elowen stiffened as though she'd been struck by an anvil, both realisation and shock spreading across her face at the same time. As that happened, the shopkeeper turned to face Lorelle.

"And do not even get me started on the so-called 'Eternal Flame'. The way I see it, The Abyss that preacher's always going on about sounds like the better option anyway!" The name meant nothing to Ren, but he could clearly see it resonate with the young Firekeeper. In a bad way.

"What did you just say?" she asked slowly, her fists tightening noticeably.

"I'm not about to repeat myself to non-paying customers," the shopkeeper said before shooing them away with his hairy arms.

"Now get out of here before I call over the Flameguard and accuse you of stealing!"

"But we weren't stealing!?" Ren said quickly, but the man only laughed mockingly.

"And who are they going to believe?" he sneered.

"A bunch of raggedy kids like you? Or a respected vendor such as myself?" Bewildered and wondering how the situation even turned out like this, Ren watched as Varrin grabbed Lorelle's wrist and begin to pull her away.

"Don't do anything rash," the silver-haired boy whispered before facing the shopkeeper with a sweet smile.

"I'm sorry sir! My friends must've gotten carried away due to the hypnotising beauty of your wares! We will leave you alone now, thank you for the second chance!" The shopkeeper averted his eyes and cleared his throat.

"You got that right. Now go before I change my mind!" Varrin didn't even bother to respond, simply walking off and leading them away from the main road. Elowen, having collected herself after her brief shock, quickly followed after him, and Ren fell into step close behind her. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

The silver-haired boy led the party down a side path, one significantly narrower than the main road, so much so that the wagons which rolled so freely through The Crossroads before never could have squeezed their way through it. Tall wooden buildings loomed on either side of Ren, high enough that even the midday sun struggled to force its light down into the alleyway. A rat skittered past underfoot, and once Varrin deemed them far enough from the crowds, he came to a stop and released Lorelle's wrist.

Ren could have sworn he heard the soft jingle of bells somewhere nearby, but before he could place it, Varrin spoke up and the thought slipped away from him entirely.

"There's no need to get so worked up," the silver-haired boy told the young Firekeeper sternly, "we're trying to pass through here, not get thrown into a cell. Report him to your higher ups if need be."

"No, you're right and I'm sorry," Lorelle said, shaking her head.

"I'll ensure the Head Firekeeper knows of his blasphemy."

"There's no need to be sorry in sticking up for what you believe in," Elowen sighed.

"It's my fault anyway. I shouldn't have riled him up with what I said, and should have just left it be."

"About that..." Varrin said, turning to the regal elf.

"Did you really think that name would pull any weight here? You're lucky that man had the intelligence of an eyeless spider and didn't put two and two together, but that name means nothing here."

"You're better off forgetting it entirely." A brief silence settled in the narrow alleyway, until it was interrupted by the sound of Elowen grinding her teeth in anger.

"I don't know why you're so cold toward me, or whether I've done something to offend you," she said, her pointed ears growing redder by the second, "but telling me to abandon my House's name is simply absurd! Even if the name means nothing here, and carries no weight in the eyes of others, to me it's still deeply important! What sort of member of House Aelcryth would I be if I just cast it aside the very moment it became convenient?" The regal elf glared at Varrin.

"I'd sooner die than do that." But the silver-hair boy only smirked and raised his hands.

"Calm down~ I was merely offering you a suggestion. A good leader should keep a cool head."

"Arrgh!" Elowen yelled in frustration before storming off towards the opposite end of the alleyway. After watching her walk off for a moment, Varrin sighed and shook his head.

"Let's follow her. I am not trying to lose a party member one week in." Ren winced inwardly at everything he'd just watched unfold as he, Varrin, and Lorelle wordlessly set off after her, the bustle of The Crossroad's main road growing quieter behind them with each step. Although he hadn't known them for long, with everything the four of them had been through together in such a short amount of time, Ren was comfortable calling them his friends. And it worried him to see them so hostile to each other.'

How can I fix this?

'he thought to himself.' I can start with trying to find out why Varrin is so mean to Elowen, that why I can make them understand each other a little more. As for Lorelle... I suppose telling her about our transmigration wouldn't matter too much...' Ren smiled and nodded resolutely.' Yeah, that's what I'll do! I need them as much as we need each other in order to get back to Xantris.' Stepping out of the shadowed alley, Ren was relieved to find that Elowen hadn't gone far at all.

Glancing around, he realised they'd emerged into a small square, and even without the bustle of the sizeable crowd gathered around a makeshift stage at its centre, he figured the noise of the main road would have been difficult to hear from here regardless.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"How are we supposed to know?" Varrin said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"We arrived at the same time you did." At that moment, a man clambered onto the stage and a sense of ease washed over Ren. He was dressed in dark, threadbare robes that hung loosely from his thin frame. His black hair fell to his shoulders in greasy clumps, as though it hadn't been washed in weeks, and his eyes shone with a feverish intensity. In his hands was a battered, grimy book, its pages warped and yellowed with age.

Upon reaching the top of the raised platform and orienting himself, the man spread his arms wide.

"People of The Crossroads," he called out in a pleasant voice, the sound carrying well across the square.

"How long will you cling to false light?" A ripple of curiosity spread throughout the crowd as the man continued.

"Forty years ago, the demons grew bold, attacking both the East and the North simultaneously, and they have only grown bolder since. Their Scourges and Lords descend upon villages and towns, burning them to the ground and tearing families apart." His lips curled into a crooked smile.

"And yet the Eternal Flame tells you everything is fine." Ren's jaw tightened slightly as he noticed himself strangely wanting to give his undivided attention to this speaker. Beside him, his friends were no different.

"The Eternal Flame promises safety and prosperity if you would just follow her teachings!" the man said, tapping the book against his palm.

"But what has her light truly done for you? She blinds you with it. Weakens you. Forces you down a single, narrow path, whether it leads to salvation or ruin." He leant forward, eyes blazing with a feverish insanity.

"But The Abyss does not lie." A hush fell over the crowd.

"The Abyss shelters us," the preacher declared joyously.

"Its darkness does not judge, does not command, and does not demand blind obedience. It embraces you and gives you a choice." His voice dropped into something more reverent and quiet.

"Within the dark, all truths are equal. Within the dark, you are free to find your own direction." Lorelle's hands clenched at her sides. Ren noticed the way her dirty blonde hair trembled slightly as her breathing sharpened with anger. Knowing this wouldn't help him bring the party together, he opened his mouth to say something to her—but was cut off by an unfamiliar voice behind him.

"Nasty bunch, aren't they?" Ren spun toward the source of the voice, a mysterious figure who had just emerged from the narrow alley they had come from. Varrin and Elowen turned to face the newcomer as well, while Lorelle let out a startled yelp of fright. A young man stood there, close enough that Ren was certain he should have noticed him approaching. He was dressed in bright red and white, clothes cut in exaggerated curves and points.

A three-pronged jester's hat sat atop his dark brown hair, bells dangling from each tip, chiming softly as he moved. One cheek bore a painted heart, the other a single painted tear. With his hands on his hips, he smiled broadly.

"These cultists of The Abyss," the man said cheerfully, "always so dramatic." Ren stared at him before asking slowly: "... And …who are you?" The young man bent and swept into a low, exaggerated bow.

"Salutations! I'm Mr. Jester." he said with a massive grin after straightening and extending a hand.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance." Ren hesitated a moment, before ultimately deciding to shake it.

"Ren."

"Or so you say," Mr. Jester replied, grin widening. Ren frowned, wondering what the man could have possibly meant by that.

"You lot aren't from around here, are you?" Mr. Jester continued without a care in the world, lowering his voice to a theatrical whisper as he leant closer.

"We're from Southwoo—" Lorelle began quickly, but the jester waved a dismissive hand.

"Pffft." he said with fake tiredness.

"I've heard the story, Lorelle. There's no need to repeat it." The young Firekeeper's mouth dropped open a little as she struggled with what to say next, but Mr. Jester paid no mind and continued.

"I. Meant. These three." The brightly dressed man pointed at the trio in an exaggerated fashion, swinging his finger from Ren to Elowen to Varrin, punctuating each word of his sentence with a jab.

"You guys, aren't from Aetira at all!"