Why… did I just hallucinate her? Why did I see Les again?
My vision blurred, trembling. Breath uneven. My chest tightened as my eyes welled up. I tilted my head back against the wall, biting down on the pain clawing up from my heart.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry, Les. I wasn't strong enough." My voice cracked. The words scraped out as if my throat was made of rust.
I pressed a hand against the wall and forced myself upright. My knees trembled but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop just because of another hallucination.
I still had someone I needed to protect.
Dragging my sleeve across my damp eyes, I walked to the door, slow and deliberate. Each step on the wooden floor let out a creak that echoed in my ears.
…Should I change my shirt first?
I looked down. The fabric was wrinkled, faintly stained. My eyes still burned with wetness.
"No. Why should I care about what anyone thinks?" I muttered under my breath, twisting the doorknob.
The door cracked open, but my eyes darted to the table—where the key still sat.
"Tch… almost forgot."
I stepped back, grabbed it, then finally locked the door behind me. The key slipped into my pocket with a faint clink.
The streets outside were already alive, bustling with noise.
Vendors shouted, voices overlapping one another.
"Fresh bread and vegetables! Get them while they last!"
"Try our new cosmetics—make yourself shine!"
"Sir! Miss! Fruits! Fresh fruits, cheap!"
"Brand new clothes worn by nobles, only—"
"Ten silver pennies?! Are you insane?!" a passerby cut off the seller, scoffing.
A wave of scents drifted past, thick and heavy. One in particular stabbed at my stomach—grilled meat. My mouth watered, saliva pooling.
I clenched my jaw and tore my eyes away from the stall. Barbecue… not now.
Focus. The baker's shop was just a few blocks away, close to the library.
I kept moving, weaving through the crowd, until my shoulder bumped into someone rushing past.
"Sorry! I'm in a hurry!" the man blurted, bowing quickly before bolting off. His suit wrinkled as he bent, the briefcase in his grip rattling with the movement.
I watched his back disappear into the crowd, then exhaled through my nose. People these days…
The thought lingered, and I froze. Why the hell did I just think that?
I shook my head hard. No… that was just the hallucination messing with my mood.
I tried to steady my breath—until a hand closed around my wrist.
I turned. An elderly woman. Bent, grey-haired, her face a map of wrinkles. Her robe was plain, but her eyes… they dug straight into me.
"Young man… change isn't always good. Protect those dear to you," she whispered.
Before I could even speak, she slipped back into the crowd, vanishing.
"W-What?…" My voice cracked in the noise.
I coughed into my hand, trying to shake it off. Weird woman.
Fixing my plain white shirt and adjusting the black pants at my waist, I caught my reflection in a shop window. Somehow, in just days, my body had grown leaner, sharper. Muscle had shaped where before there was little.
How? …I'd figure that out later.
I passed the bakery when something else caught my eyes—bright colors in the distance. A circus tent.
It loomed in the distance, its banners swaying above the roofs. My gaze landed on a man with a painted face — red lips stretched wide into a grin. He smiled, a ridiculous smile. An exaggerated smile. His red nose shone under the afternoon light, his hat tilted comically on his head.
A clown.
He crouched, handing a boy a pamphlet.
"Kid, come to our circus with your parents! Only ten copper quarters!" the clown beamed.
The child's eyes lit up. "A circus for just ten quarters?! I'll make sure to tell my parents! Thanks, mister!" He sprinted off, clutching the paper like treasure.
The clown's ridiculous smile widened as he handed more flyers to passersby, his painted lips never faltering.
Then, he turned to me. Arm extended. Pamphlet in hand.
I stared for a second before taking it.
(!Redny's Circus! – The best circus in town for only 10 Copper Quarters! Our performances include—)
The clown leaned closer, voice dipping lower as though only for me. "Sir, come to our church this evening. Seven sharp. Someone of your caliber will find it interesting."
His painted grin didn't waver.
I forced a polite smile, sliding the pamphlet into my pocket. "Thanks. I'll check it out later."
I walked on, hearing his voice pitch back up into the crowd. "Come one, come all! The best circus in town!"
But my chest tightened. My forehead dampened. What did he mean by caliber? Why would a clown… know something about me?
I turned back. He looked the same. Just a clown. Just makeup.
I shook my head. Get it together. A clown wouldn't know.
I pressed forward until a shadow stretched across the street — a tall stone building, its letters etched in bold: [Nazerlock Formal Library].
People streamed in, arms stacked with books. Students mostly. Probably first-years from the royal academy, judging by the way they grouped together. Laughter and chatter bled out from the doorway.
"Just my luck," I muttered, sliding my hands into my pockets as I stepped inside.
The interior was hushed, lanterns dimmed just enough to paint the hall in warm tones. Shelves stretched high, crammed with books so tall the ladders rattled when someone climbed. The faint smell of parchment and candle wax clung to the air.
A line had formed at the counter. I waited until I reached the cashier, a woman whose pen moved with mechanical steadiness across a ledger.
"Two hours," I said, placing coins on the desk.
Her eyes flicked up before counting. "Two silver pennies."
I pushed them over, my lips twitching. Used to be twenty copper quarters. Now? Two silvers. The economy was rotting faster than bread in the sun.
She scribbled my time slot down. "Name?"
"Vi—" I stopped myself. "Cassian. Cassian Caervale."
Her pen scratched across the page, marking the name.
A burst of noise shattered the quiet. Loud footsteps. Laughter.
I turned.
A man strutted in — brown suit crisp, red necktie gleaming, leather jacket swaying with each step. His shoes were new, polished enough to catch the lantern glow.
"Look who it is," he smirked, his voice cutting through the hush. "Cassian. Or should I say… commoner now?"
His friends chuckled behind him.
"What's up, commoner?"
"Yeah, what are you even doing here?"
Their laughter grated against the library's silence.
But my eyes didn't stay on them. Past their shoulders, a woman with royal blue hair stood quietly, gaze turned away.
So that's it. A performance. Showing off in front of her.
I didn't reply. My stare hardened, heavy silence pressing back at their mockery.
But who are these people? I for sure have never met them. Maybe Cassian did?
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- End of Chapter -
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