"I hate you, Iago," said a girl standing right in front of him.
Heavy rain poured down, accompanied by the deafening roar of thunder, yet her gaze pierced deeper than nature's fury itself. "I hate you so much I want to kill you." After saying those words, she turned her back and left Iago standing alone.
Iago stood frozen, his head lowered, eyes fixed on the ground. The rumbling thunder didn't stir him in the slightest. His eyes widened slightly, his lips parted, and his wet black hair clung to his forehead.
The rain drenched him endlessly, weighing his body down. For ten long minutes, he simply stood there—until his lips slowly curved, forming a smile.
***
Back in the year 1500, in a country called Cirland, there stood a wealthy and renowned kingdom: the Kingdom of Valemira. It was famous for producing many brilliant and noble minds.
One morning, a young man of twenty had just arrived in the capital. He had long black hair parted in the middle, the back a little unkempt, and half-closed eyes that made him look perpetually tired or sleepy. Though simply dressed, his appearance was neat and clean, giving him a certain handsomeness—quite striking for someone from the countryside.
"So that's the Kingdom of Valemira..." he muttered softly. From afar, the grand palace towered high. White marble walls blended with golden metal that gleamed until its spires pierced the clouds, standing like a beacon visible from the outer districts of Citywon.
The young man walked through the bustling crowd. People were busy with their morning routines, most of them buying daily necessities. He paused at a puddle, staring at the unfamiliar reflection of his face, then continued on.
"Hey, boy! I've never seen you before. Are you from the village?" called out an old merchant, making him turn his head. The man was pot-bellied, with a thick mustache, smiling as he gestured for him to come closer.
"Yes, I've just arrived from the countryside. What is it, sir?" the young man asked with a faint smile.
"I'd like to offer you this lucky charm. Just one Flor." The merchant raised a small trinket.
The young man raised an eyebrow. One Flor for such nonsense? Since childhood, he had never believed in anything supernatural.
"I'm sorry, sir. Do you really think I have that much money?"
The merchant froze, then laughed awkwardly. "Haha… fair enough. One Flor is a bit much for you, isn't it?"
The young man only smiled. They chatted briefly before he politely declined the man's offer for work and moved on. A lucky charm, huh? I wonder who would buy such a thing.
Not long after, a horse-drawn carriage passed by. A gallant guard held the reins, while inside sat a noble girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. Her name was Stella Valemira, daughter of the ruler of Valemira. For a brief moment, her eyes met those of the young man. Just an instant—but enough to make time feel as if it had stopped.
The carriage should have continued on, but instead it suddenly halted. Stella quickly stepped down, her gaze fixed on the young man's retreating back. She hurried after him. "Wait! Hey, you…"
The young man turned, confused, while Stella caught her breath. "Why are you just standing there?!" she snapped.
"Forgive me, but… what's wrong, my lady?" he asked politely.
"Who are you? I've never seen you before."
"I've just arrived from the countryside."
Stella narrowed her eyes. In a swift motion, she drew her sword and pressed it against his neck. The surrounding crowd gasped and began whispering.
"Hey, isn't that Princess Stella?"
"Yes… but why is she pointing her sword at that man?"
"I heard there's a skilled thief in the city… goes by the name Shadow."
The whispers were loud enough for the young man to hear. He understood immediately. So, she thinks I'm that thief, Shadow.
Calmly, he said, "I know you suspect me of being a thief. But is it necessary to go this far when the truth isn't clear?" Then, without hesitation, he stepped closer until the blade touched his neck. A drop of blood fell.
Stella's eyes widened. "Don't move! I'll cut off your head if you take another step!" she shouted, though her hand trembled slightly.
"To behead an innocent man? Is that what nobles are truly like, Princess?" the young man replied coldly.
The guard, Garron, quickly approached, trying to ease the situation. "Please, control your anger, Your Highness. Even if he looks suspicious, that doesn't mean he's guilty."
Stella hesitated, then took a deep breath and lowered her sword. "You're right, Garron. Forgive my rudeness."
The crowd slowly dispersed, disappointed that the man wasn't the thief they had hoped to see caught. Stella then smiled warmly, her beauty radiating with softness. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Stella Valemira, daughter of the noble house of Valemira. What is your name?"
The young man felt something strange stir within him as he looked at her face. Wait… this face… why does it feel so familiar? But he dismissed the thought.
With a respectful bow, one hand on his chest and the other behind his back, he answered, "My name is Iago Verbal. It is an honor to meet you, Princess Stella."
Stella froze. Her smile vanished instantly, her eyes widening. "That name… sounds rather strange."
Iago straightened his posture again and smiled.
"Yes, people say the same thing."
Stella began to feel something unusual. Even though this was her first time meeting Iago, there was a strange sense as if they had met before.
"Have… we met somewhere before?"
Garron felt uneasy after hearing that question.
"Forgive me, Princess, what do you mean by that?"
But Stella ignored Garron's words. Her gaze remained fixed on Iago's eyes, waiting for his answer.
"Met? I'm not sure, since I've just arrived in this city."
"I see… forget what I just said. So, what brings you to this city, Iago?" Stella tried to restrain herself. Although something felt off, she didn't want to make Iago uncomfortable.
"I'm looking for work to make a living."
"A living, huh… Then, where did you get those clothes? I'm sure such clothes can't be found in the countryside."
Stella's tone softened, but her suspicion hadn't vanished. She was deeply curious about Iago. Stella was known to be cold and ruthless toward her enemies. Her sharp suspicion and intelligence were far above the average person. She had even solved the case of the "IV Killer."
The "IV Killer" case was a serial murder in the city of Optherra, claiming more than a thousand lives. The mastermind, Alarion Varek, leader of the "IV" Organization, was captured three years ago and sentenced to death. His final words before the execution were: "You're all wrong!" Some believed it was just an excuse, while others thought he truly wasn't the real mastermind.
"I got these clothes from my friend who lives in this city. He's a very close friend of mine."
"Your friend?"
"Yes, I hope I can meet him later."
"Do you know where his house is?"
"I don't."
"Princess…" Garron finally interrupted. "Forgive me for cutting into your conversation. But we can't linger here any longer. We must continue searching for that thief."
"You're right, Garron. But I don't think the thief will show up in the morning. Isn't that right, Iago?"
Stella's gaze turned cynical, as though mocking. She still suspected Iago to be the thief. Yet, Iago remained calm, smiling without offense.
"Yes, of course. Thieves usually don't reveal themselves on bright days. They tend to act at night."
"Well, you seem to know a lot…" Stella grew more suspicious. Her lips curled into a sly smile.
"Isn't that common knowledge, Princess?" Iago replied with a similar expression.
Stella grew annoyed but tried to hold her emotions. She turned around and walked toward the carriage.
"Come, Garron!"
"Yes, Princess."
Before the carriage departed, Stella looked out the window.
"Goodbye, Iago! I hope we can meet again."
Why would she want to meet me again? Iago thought, slipping his hand into his pocket and lowering his head slightly.
He recalled the rumors about the "IV Killer" case he once heard in the village. Princess Stella, only eighteen years old, had managed to solve the case, making her name famous. Iago never expected to meet her in person.
After finding an inn, Iago rested in a corner room on the second floor. He dropped his bag carelessly on the floor and lay down. From the window, he watched the trees sway in the afternoon wind.
Honestly, I haven't been feeling right lately. I feel like there's something I've forgotten, he muttered in his heart.
Hours passed, and laziness kept him from looking for work.
"It's so hot today… I want to buy something refreshing.".
He left his room wearing a shabby black coat, went down the stairs, and walked outside.
Oh right… about the "IV Killer" case, I heard they operated in groups. Some of them are still out there, free and wandering, he thought.
Iago stopped in front of a tavern called the Black Horse. The tavern was quiet, with only five people including himself. The floor was made of brown wood, and old iron lanterns hung in every corner of the room.
The cashier was a burly old man with a mustache. Though he smiled, his face still looked intimidating.
"Welcome to the Black Horse Tavern! What would you like to order, boy?"
"This tavern looks quite old. Have you been running it for long, sir?"
"Why, of course! This tavern has been standing since 1485. I've taken good care of it."
"Wow, so you really enjoy this job, huh…"
"Yes! So, what would you like to order, boy?"
"Does this tavern sell cold cider?"
"Of course! It really does feel hot today, doesn't it?"
"Yes."
The old man prepared the cold cider. While waiting, Iago sat at a table near the window. Not long after, a glass of cold cider was placed in front of him.
"Here's your cold cider, boy."
"Thank you, sir."
After some time enjoying the comfort of the tavern, Iago realized it was getting late. He paid for his drink and left. However, the four old men inside the tavern followed him outside.
When he reached a deserted narrow alley, the sound of their footsteps grew louder and clearer. Iago quickened his pace, feeling uneasy.
"Wait, bastard!" one of them shouted. They began to run after him.