[The crowd begins to die down as the sun lowers over the horizon]
[The cool chill of dusk brushes against a free man]
As Egan looks out over the crowd of people before him, all he sees are the twisted faces of people forcing a smile. He can tell that some of the people still dislike his company. Dislike his approach. But they are willing to 'test the waters' as the great Ser Dornath Valegrim had just announced to the whole city. The glow of the afternoon sun bounces off the buildings, reverberating across the horizon, beckoning night to come forth. The chilling breeze that sings of a morning yet to come dances upon his skin. The world around him feels different.
New.
For his prayers have been answered. Not by a god. Not by some higher power looking down at the events unfolding.
But by people, people he has grown to trust.
People, he is grateful to have.
And selfishly, he smiles, looking out over the crowd of people who just condemned him to death. He smiles. Grateful to see the sun fall over the horizon.
For tomorrow.
With a tug on his shoulder, he looks over at Ser, who just risked body and soul to protect him. In some strange way, Egan liked the feeling of being protected. Ser's reaffirming smile made it that much easier. With a pull, Ser hugs him from the side, resting his massive arm over Egan's shoulder while they walk down the crumbled steps Ser used as his stage prop.
"Hadrian calls you Dornath… I thought Ser was your name."
"No, Egan, Ser is my title. All nine sovereigns are bestowed the title Ser by their respective ruler. It's to show a level of respect and honor that would put you above others in terms of nobility. I happen to use that name a lot."
Egan looks at him, his face twisted into an awkward smile.
'This man really likes his status.'
Even though the people backed down in their approach towards him, they still scattered as soon as he hit their level. It saddened him, but he couldn't blame them. Deep down, he still believes himself to be this monster, undeserving of acceptance.
But he is glad that some of those people look past that.
Some of them are glad he's still alive.
And so is Egan. Egan is glad, too.
What usually wouldn't have put him in mortal danger did. And it scared him. The slash on his cheek began to heal once again. Upon Ser noticing, he gives a hesitant smirk, curious as to why he went through all the trouble for someone who can regenerate, but he didn't know how strong it was, so he let it slide.
Looking out at the dissipated masses, they all stared. Their eyes beaming daggers on him, judging his movements. Every breath he makes is up for discussion.
One by one, they begin to leave, fanning out into every possible direction. Their eyes leaving his frame left him with hollow relief—but relief nonetheless. But some stayed. People who were familiar and trusted. Not just the trio of girls who were scared for his life just moments ago, but the same boy whose life was saved by the young dragon.
Still looking at him, that same cheerful kid-ish smile looking at him. His mother also gave him a soft wave. Along with others, Egan saved that day, all giving him a warm, relieved smile. Happy to see the selfless man be a little selfish for once.
Looking at the girls, Sarah, Liz, and especially Olivia were bawling. Crying their eyes dry as they stand there frozen with excitement. The first one to dash towards the young dragon was Sarah. Her face was drenched with tears. Upon looking up at Ser, he noticed he was no longer leaning on him, but instead gazing back onto the stage that was supposed to be Egan's grave. His eyes were worried but fierce. The hazel-grey eyes that always looked calm began to look worried.
It dulled his mood, only a little. For looking upon the stage himself, he noticed that Hadrian S. Vanitinova, the man responsible for this dramatic play,
Had disappeared.
Along with his presence.
For a feeling down in his very gut
Told Egan that something was wrong with that man. If you can even call him that.
For the presence, he felt back at the tavern, and yet again at the stage, was the same as the man's that night.
Deep in his soul, he knew that Hadrian S. Vanitinova.
Is the same person… as that man.
With a shove, the crying Sarah leaped.
Onto the back of Egan, holding him tightly as though she would never let go again. He looked down at her face, her eyes red from the tears, her hair down and long, the loose pigtails she always kept in were nowhere to be seen.
'Woah… You might execute me if you squeeze me too—'
"Shut up! I was so scared… I thought… That look on that man's face when he took you… I couldn't have imagined what you were going through that night! I-I'm sorry I didn't notice," Sarah stated, still holding on tightly.
Her tears began to drench his already tattered cloak. The cold, salty water leaking from her eyes began to brush against his chest. Her small hands wrapped tightly around his lean yet muscular frame.
"I was blinded by rage that night… A lot of people were. To think that it was your fault for not noticing anything I didn't explicitly tell you is foolish, Sarah. You're not psychic," Egan reaffirmed, running his hands through her hair and accepting the embrace.
He continued,
"But because of you guys… That rage didn't cost me my life."
"So, thank you, Sarah."
She began to cry more, nuzzling her nose even further into his chest.
With a smack on his back, he turns over to his left, noticing Liz grinning ear to ear. Egan also smiled at her, another warm smile. He knew that she was the one to cast that ice wall. The only person he has to thank more than her is Ser.
"You did good, Egan. And by the looks of it, you seemed to have melted my poor Sarah's heart," Liz chirped, covering her mouth with the tips of her fingers in an attempt to mock him.
"Oh, shut it, blondie," Egan responded, giggling while flicking her head.
Ser turns to face them, no longer gazing at the stage. He puts his hand on Liz's head, giving it a slight pat.
"I know you always have my back, Elizabeth, as massive as it is," Ser said, with a soft look in his eye.
"Sure is a lotta surface to cover—Good thing I'm efficient!" Liz stated, grabbing her bicep and punching her fist in the air.
With a soft tone, the final young girl spoke up.
"I-I'm so glad… You're okay, Sir Egan…" Olivia said, still crying and clutching a coat in her arms. Liz had passed the coat to her when she cast the spell, so out of comfort, she'd been using it as a snot rag for the past thirty minutes, which Ser did not appreciate.
"You have to stop with the Sir part, I'm no better than you are," Egan reminded, looking over at her still.
With a jolt,
"I'm sorry, I cannot do that! My life is forever in your debt, Sir Egan and anything other than the utmost respect for Sir Egan would be a violation of Sir Egan's rights!" she yelled, trying to recover her breath from the sudden expression of her feelings.
"Whatever suits you, I guess…" Egan says, a little taken aback by her persistence.
Gazing out at the people he's surrounded by, he feels a strange connection towards them. As though an invisible rope was tied around their hearts, binding them. A bond. Egan had formed bonds with these people. The first bond he had ever formed since arriving here, was with them.
Under his breath, he mutters the same words again, this time, even more so than before, it was from the heart.
"Thank you."
Egan once again looks over at the sun dancing across the horizon, slowly finishing its daily play. The view was even more breathtaking than it was before. It was as though the world itself seemed different. Happier. Kinder.
With a deep breath, Ser looked out towards the empty streets that lined Northern Vanitinova. The once crowded field of people was now completely abandoned, only the faint lingering of essence proved that anyone was there in the first place.
"Now… Everyone," Ser proclaimed, grabbing the coat from Olivia and buttoning it up around his large frame.
"Let's head home."
With a soft smile, Egan looked out towards the empty streets.
"Yeah…"
When Egan first arrived here, Sarah said to him that this place was, home. At the time, he didn't know what a home was. The only experience he had of a place he felt attached to was the aerie, but those sky islands are too far away from his grasp to call it home now.
But now that he looks out at the city, he has stayed in for the majority of his life. He can confidently say…
"Yeah… Let's go home."
***
After wandering through the flurry of broken houses, along with several reconstruction efforts, they find their way back to the guild. It took them until nightfall to find their way home, but eventually they did. After looking at the Guild, Egan had a faint sense of comfort. He had never been anywhere else before, besides Sarah's inn, but that was in passing. How long was he out? How long was he in that dungeon?
From the outside, considering the reconstruction projects, it seemed like a decent bit.
'Man, Hadrian hits hard.'
Egan can still feel a sting in the place he was struck. It was kinda hard to ignore, but he managed fine. Noticing something different about the guild, he sees a familiar dwarf leaning on the massive walls that mark the entrance.
It was Berthold.
After looking at him, Berthold looked back. But it wasn't a look of happiness, instead, anger was flushed through his face. It was as though steam was barreling out of his ears from behind that massive beard of his. It was scary.
As they got closer, so did Berthold, for he had gotten up and begun advancing towards them.
With a quick grab, Berthold gets right in Egan's face, pulling him down to his level.
"You outta be insane! You, horned lil freak, already lost me family treasure after not even a week! I ain't never shoulda have let you 'ave it! What are you gonna do to fix this, huh?!" Berthold screamed, his small veins bulging out of his head.
"L-Look, I had no control over it! Plus, you said that nobody else could wield it, so we can get it back. Promise!" Egan said, his arms raised above his head.
"Yeah yeah…" Berthold scoffed, letting go of him and turning around. "I heard what had happened."
With a slight glance from over his muscular shoulder:
"Glad ur' safe, kid."
***
With a small smile, but still frightened, he got up, looking at the guild building yet again. He began to walk towards it, Ser and the gang shortly following. Before touching the handle…
[An ominous presence looms from beyond the door]
[A chill is sent through Egan's spine]
He freezes. A look of horror washed over the young dragon's face. Ser notices this look of despair on the young dragon's face. It concerned him. Ser had hoped he would be happy that he was coming home. Ser didn't know what Egan was sensing. Oblivious to the oblivion that Egan was feeling.
Before Ser could address the situation, and before the girls had noticed anything changed in him, Egan swung the door open. Its large frame slammed against the inside of the room, sending a ripple of noise throughout the quiet guild hall. The sudden bang shocked the people behind Egan.
"Why'd you do that, Egan? …. Egan?"
His face was pale.
All of the blood on his face was completely drained.
His eyes were fixed on the receptionist's desk, located a decent distance away.
He was locked in on it.
'...Something's wrong… Very wrong.'
"Egan?"
He drowned out the voices. Liz and Sarah began to approach him, his arms still outstretched from pushing on the doors. After looking at his face, theirs too went pale. It was as though looking at his frightened and shocked expression sent them into a spiral, too.
Before they could ask what was wrong again, Egan marched forward. Fast and set on reaching his goal.
The guild hall was completely empty, for it had been closed for a while due to the recent disaster.
'This can't be happening right now… No, no, no!'
He marched closer to the receptionist.
"It's the same feelings as before…
With HIM."
He steps into something, something wet. The girls followed behind him, noticing the sudden stop. They looked at the ground Egan was focused on.
Red.
Very red.
It was blood.
But whose?
Egan followed the trail, walking closer to the receptionist's desk, bloody footprints marking his path. Ser is still at the door, his face looking at the receptionist's desk. Egan knew he sensed it, too.
He peered around the corner of the receptionist's desk.
"..."
Lifeless.
Motionless.
Was the guild receptionist. The first person besides Sarah he met in this town. His brown, untidy ponytail was completely undone, and a hole burrowed deep in his chest. His face was cold and unemotional, a single tear dropping from his eye. Egan's face scrunched up.
Images flashed of the orphan boy, his same motionless body, tearing a permanent hole in his mind. He looks down at his hands, which are now covered in the receptionist's blood. He looks to the right on the floor.
There lay his arm, mangled and broken. Detached from its owner.
What a horrible disaster.
With a scream, Liz ran to him, her eyes welling with tears. Before, her tears were ones of happiness. But her demeanor changed to one of pure sadness. After dropping to her knees and sobbing like a baby, she hugs his lifeless body.
"Hey… Hey, get up… Come on."
She tried resituating him.
It was a heartbreaking sight to behold.
Egan was frozen with fear, unable to move; the same images kept flashing in his head.
'Why does this always happen?'
Sarah was completely shocked, her face crying silent tears upon seeing her friend's corpse.
"Can we never get a break?" she said, before dropping to her knees, still silently weeping.
Trauma crying.
Ser, ignoring the scene before him, charges to his room, blinded by anger. With a quick kick of his door, he looks out at the unfolding catastrophe. His room, all of his belongings, everything.
'Fuck'
The room…
It was completely destroyed.