The outside air assaulted Cael's nostrils, the smell of rot from the wood, grain or even corpses forming a layer of smog that obstructed the senses. But instead of reeling from it, Cael felt nostalgic.
He paused near the old well. It had dried out years ago, but he remembered splashing water on his face here, contracting an eye infection from it. He had to beg one of the priests in the Cathedral to cast purification on it.
This was the way he always used to go back home.
'It has been a year since the last time I traveled through here…'
They weren't pleasant memories, but they were childhood memories nonetheless.
He could almost see a phantom of his younger self running down this same path with a stolen piece of bread in his mouth, playing Hero to the other unfortunate kids by splitting that little piece among them all. Who would've thought he'd still be playing Hero all those years later?
'I wonder how they're holding up…'
While he managed to join the adventurers and build a reliable reputation as an assassin, none of the other kids had his level of skill—
All except one.
'She tried to stop me from going, and I died… She might be a little disappointed…'
One of the only people other than Arlen that Cael considers trustworthy.
***
Following the long trail of mud and feces, stepping through it with a deadpan expression and a full mind, he reached its end.
A humble house stood out in the empty neighborhood.
Cael chose the farthest point in the Slums, right before the capital's walls.
He liked to go through the entirety of the Slums when he was headed somewhere outside and back, keeping an eye on the happenings.
Also, he could climb the wall and leave the capital without anyone noticing, which was an added bonus.
Taking a thorough look around for anything amiss, he found nothing had changed in all the time he was gone, until his gaze fell back onto his home.
The door was slightly open.
'What? Everyone in the Slums knows that this is my house. No one is dumb enough to steal from me… Unless they heard that I died.'
A few petty thieves are nothing to him, but that door was locked with magic—no petty thief could open it.
So it's either a very capable mage-thief…
Or someone with a key.
'Speak of the devil…'
He tapped the sides of his stomach and his shoulders from force of habit, checking his weapons in preparation like usual, but it is not usual—Arlen doesn't have that habit.
He shook his head and braced himself for an unpleasant reunion.
'It would've been pleasant if I wasn't supposed to be Arlen now…'
He walked toward his own house as if he were a stranger, mimicking the Hero's steps.
***
Ceal pressed his hand to the door. No runes were broken. No damage. Whoever got in did it cleanly. Or they never needed to break in at all.
He let out a deep sigh and knocked on it thrice.
He waited a moment.
No reply.
So he pushed the already open door and put his left foot forwar—
He heard it before he saw it—a hiss in the air, a jet-black knife, identical to his, cut through the darkness of the living room and struck the Hero's helmet with a clang that reverberated in his skull. She didn't aim to miss.
The tip bent from the impact, knocking his head back.
If it wasn't for the helmet, that knife would be stuck to his forehead.
"HOW DARE YOU!? How dare you enter the Slums!? How dare you show your face here!? In HIS home!"
A cold voice full of hatred rang from the dark.
A silver-haired woman emerged from the corner.
Her steps were silent and calculated, her bloodshot eyes twisted with rage, almost bulging from their sockets and making a beautiful pair of blue pearls.
Mascara ran across her pale cheeks, stopping at the popping veins from her clenched jaw.
"Oh Cael… It's YOUR FAULT! Why… Why did you let him die? You're supposed to be the chosen one… But you couldn't save one person—the only person that went with you… The only one that mattered…"
Her expression darkened even more as tears welled up in her eyes.
"Aven…"
Seeing his friend in such a state because of him made him feel strange.
"Aven? Hehehe… Hahaha…"
Her tortured laugh echoed throughout the Slums.
"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? It's Blight to your kind. Since when were we on a first name basis, Sir Arlen? Don't fuck with me."
Calling her by her name was a mistake.
Cael should've known—she hated the Hero and nobles more than the Worldwound itself.
"I begged him not to go… I knew you were a phony from the start. Not even your own camp trusts you—why should I? And in the end I was right… Oh, how I wished to be wrong. You got him killed and got yourself cursed too. Serves you right."
Each word she spoke felt like daggers to his chest.
This was the first time he had ever seen her display such rage, and they'd known each other for almost all their lives.
"…"
'It's me Aven…'
Cael couldn't form a single word in front of Aven's oppressing stare.
Seeing her hurt like this… it made his chest tighten.
This wasn't grief for the Hero.
This was grief for him, and he couldn't accept it.
"I don't want to destroy the house Cael worked so hard to build… But listen here, Hero. I swear it on my name: Even if it meant burning every bridge I've built, losing every limb and even my life. I will kill you."
A shiver ran down his spine as the platinum adventurer's unblinking eyes stared down to his soul.
They stood frozen in place for what felt like years, staring at each other, the silence only interrupted by a gust of wind coming through the open door.
Aven moved first, picking up her knife and going past Cael and out the door behind him—
Leaving the fake Hero standing still like his own statue.
A moment passed. Then two. Then three…
'She was very upset…'
He turned around and closed the door, lighting the room with a snap of his fingers.
"Should I have just… run away?"
The silence of the house was his only answer.
If he didn't regret his choice before, he started doing so now.
"She cared about me this much?"
***
Children in the Slums never had it easy.
Most of them were orphans,
Their parents dead by starvation, killed, or simply abandoned them.
So they had to look out for each other, making small groups led and taken care of by the most crafty ones.
Cael was one of the most crafty children in the Slums.
His intelligence and deductions would lead him straight to food, and his sneaking skills coupled with his light fingers allowed him to be something of a guiding light to those few kids.
Even being a kid himself, Cael understood how important he was for them.
He didn't care if he starved, as long as they could eat.
However, there was a problem that he encountered later on.
Before he could steal fresh bread from the passing cart, someone else would do it before him, leaving him with nothing.
He woke up earlier to catch it, and he succeeded.
But the next day, the same thing happened.
So he woke up even earlier than that, and succeeded again.
But the day after that… it repeated.
By that point, he figured something was up.
So he stayed up all night, waiting at the same spot for whoever was trying to out-steal him.
And the mysterious figure showed up—just earlier than the time he chose.
It was a girl his age.
As if mirroring everything Cael did.
From the slow walk to the cart to the number of loaves she took.
Instead of jumping at her and confronting her, Cael chose to follow.
She went to the Slums—another part from the one Cael was in—met up with a bunch of kids, and started distributing the bread.
That's when he decided to approach her.
"Hello."
Cael tapped her shoulder after she gave away the last loaf.
"Huh, what!"
She was startled by his touch but got even more spooked the moment she saw Cael.
"Huh? Do you know me?"
"N-no… Who are you? And what do you want?"
She couldn't be more obvious if she tried.
"Did you see how I got the bread and followed me?"
Cael had his suspicions.
"H-how did— N-no! I don't know you!"
Her eyes started darting all over the place.
Cael stared at the flustered girl.
"Fine! Fine! I did follow you, but I did it for them!"
She cracked very easily.
"I'm not angry. I'm pretty impressed that you could do it too."
Cael had never met another proactive kid before.
"R-really?"
A hint of happiness glowed in her eyes.
"Really. But where am I going to get food from now?"
He asked, addressing the new problem.
"I! I don't know…"
Sadness filled her expression, realizing she had taken away his way of providing food.
"I'm sorry. I'll try to find another way."
She was determined.
"I'm sure you would. But I have a better idea… Let's work together."
Cael proposed, flashing a bright smile.
She blinked a couple times. As if the words didn't make sense.
Then—she smiled back at him.
"Hmm… I like that idea. What's your name?"
"Cael. And yours?"
"Aven."