A few more days had passed. The breeze had grown colder, and the clouds hung low with a grayish hue, as if snow might fall at any moment.
Around Linberg, you could see people preparing everywhere, hauling decorations through the streets and stocking up for the coming cold.
Everyone was preparing for the Winter Fire Festival, a celebration marking the start of the winter season. Tonight, a giant fire would be lit in front of the church, and lanterns would be hung to light the streets.
Meanwhile, Belle was dragging me down the cobbled path toward Lulu's School. Roswell followed behind us, carrying a sack of supplies for school, looking equally exhausted from the drama in front of him.
"I'm tired and cold," I groaned, dragging my feet. "I want to go home."
"Shut up! The school is just ten blocks away, so stop whining. You promised Mother," Belle snapped, not even looking back.
Every morning, we trained without fail, and over the past few days, I'd come to the realization that I was terrible with a sword. My body was too fragile, my stance always off, and every swing made my arms feel like they'd fall off.
I eyed the decorations being hauled through the street. Bundles of pine branches. Waxed lantern stalls. Paper stars stacked in neat piles.
"Sir Roswell," I asked as Belle half-dragged me along, "is it true we celebrate the Winter Fire because the Mighty Sovereign plunged a fiery sword into Linberg?"
Roswell kept walking, adjusting the sack over his shoulder.
"Well, that's the story most people know," he said. "But others say it began when creatures from the Dark Continent tried to invade our land. The Mighty Sovereign and the other gods drove them off, and over time the tale turned into a tradition in Eastern Valeria."
I didn't know that, but it still felt like a children's story to me.
Roswell added, "In my opinion, the Winter Fire is a symbol of endurance."
Belle tilted her head. "Why?"
"Is it because of the location?" I asked.
Roswell smiled faintly. "You're right. Linberg is surrounded by mountains from the north to the west. They nest all kinds of monsters, so the towns here rely on fishing and sea trade. But when winter comes, the port freezes. Most activity stops."
He shifted the sack on his back and continued, "Back in the day, people couldn't sail, couldn't trade, and sometimes couldn't even leave the town. Supplies ran low. Storms closed the roads. Everyone had to endure the cold months with whatever they'd stored."
Belle's eyes widened a little. "So, the Winter Fire… is like a celebration before things get hard?"
"Yeah. If you read something, you'd know," I said.
"Shut up. It has nothing to do with reading. Walk," she muttered, letting go of my hand.
Shortly after, we finally arrived. Mother was waiting outside the school building, wrapped in a thick coat and smiling warmly.
"There you are," she said. "Come on in, we're going to start."
The building was a cozy two-story structure. Old wooden beams framed the windows, and the stone walls were partly covered in new decorations.
We passed through the front hall where a group of children were busy hanging paper stars. Mother joined them to help, laughing softly as she handed out supplies. Belle and I made our way down the hall and into one of the classrooms.
The room was lively and warm. Kids were chatting and laughing, some gathering near the hearth while others organized their notebooks. Belle took a seat near the front, already talking to a girl about sword training and lectures. Meanwhile, I stayed back near the wall, quietly observing everything as usual.
That's when a thin girl with light brown curls nervously approached me.
"Uhm, good afternoon, Sir… Lord Lucian," she said with a stammer.
"Lucian is fine. And you?"
"Right! My name is Lizzy. You remember?"
I thought for a moment. "Of course. You're that girl from the alley. How are you?"
"I'm fine. T-thank you."
Belle, who had overheard, leaned over and smirked. "Friend of yours, Lucy?"
"Huh? Uh, no. Lord Lucian helped me before," Lizzy said quickly, flustered.
"Really?" Belle leaned in closer, studying Lizzy with interest. "No need to be nervous. I'm glad this weirdo is talking to someone."
"Lord Lucian is not a… um…" Lizzy trailed off, blushing.
"Stop, Belle, you're making her uncomfortable."
"No, I'm not! Am I?" Belle asked, turning her pretty face to Lizzy.
"Of course not," Lizzy said too quickly.
We continued talking until the meal was ready, telling small stories about school and lessons, while Belle threw in the occasional sarcastic comment to keep things lively.
…
As the class ended, chatter and laughter slowly gave way to the scrape of chairs and the thud of feet in the hallway. Children left in small groups, their voices fading as they disappeared around corners.
I stood and stretched. "I think I'll walk around town a bit."
Lizzy perked up. "Want a tour of Linberg? I know all the good spots."
I smiled. "Really?"
Lizzy "Yes, i-if you want"
I told Mother I'd be back soon, while Belle stayed behind. Roswell followed quietly, calm as always, with his hands tucked into his coat pockets.
We stepped outside into the crisp afternoon air. The sky was overcast, but the streets were alive with activity.
People were stringing up lanterns, painting wooden signs, and hanging decorations across windows and doorways. Ropes ran from house to house, and fresh chalk marks sat bright on the stone where someone had redrawn them. The air smelled of damp wood, paint, and the faint bite of smoke drifting in from somewhere ahead.
"So, where are we going?" I asked.
Lizzy's hands tightened around her bag strap. "Um… the port. If that's alright. It's loud, but… it's interesting place."
"That's fine," I said.
She nodded quickly and turned the corner, keeping to the edge of the street as we walked.
"This is the port," she announced.
It was crowded. Wooden stalls lined the docks, displaying all kinds of things: fresh fish packed on ice, jars of spices and pickled vegetables, dried herbs, old tools, and hand-carved ornaments. The smell was a strong mix of saltwater, fish, and something smoky and fried.
"It's always like this?" I asked, stepping aside the road.
"Pretty much," Lizzy replied. "But the festival makes it more crowded because everyone comes down early. They want to buy what they need before winter, and before they start lighting the fire."
I slowed near a stall where a small iron grill hissed over coals. Fish crackled as fat dripped and flared. The smell hit me clean. Smoke, salt, and hot oil.
I stopped and stepped closer. "How much for one?"
Lizzy's eyes widened a little, and she spoke hesitantly. "I-is that alright? To buy that?"
I looked at her. "Why wouldn't it be?"
Then I understood what she meant.
"Oh," I said, quieter. "It's alright. Besides, I like it." I glanced at Roswell, as if looking for permission.
Roswell didn't react. He simply nodded once. "If young master wants it, then he can buy it."
"A dozen of these," I said.
The vendor wrapped the fish in paper and handed it over. Heat soaked through to my fingers. I took a bite.
For a moment, the smell and taste of the fish pulled up a memory from my past life.
It was like a kid spending hard-earned money on hot street food on a cold night. Simple, but it felt like the best thing in the world.
I chuckled, lost in thought.
Lizzy watched me. "Is it… good?"
"It is," I said. "Better than it looks."
Lizzy blushed and smiled. "I told you the port has good things."
We didn't stay on the docks long after that. Lizzy guided us through the crowd. After a while, she led us away from the noise and up through narrow streets. The air sharpened as we climbed, the sounds of the port fading behind us.
We went into an old tower, its stone dark and worn by time. The steps spiraled upward, narrow and uneven, the walls close enough to brush your shoulders. By the time we reached the top, my legs burned slightly from the climb.
"Careful, you both," Roswell said from behind us.
From the top, the city spread out below. People moved like scattered ants along the streets, their voices blending into a distant murmur. Smoke drifted lazily from chimneys and rooftops, and lanterns began to glow one by one across Linberg, warm points of light pushing back the dusk.
Lizzy rested her hands on the rail. "You can see everything from here."
"Yes," I said. "And it's a pretty view."
She nodded. "I come here when things get loud." she said softly. "It's quiet. Makes you feel like the town can't touch you."
We stayed for a while, walking slowly around the tower, pointing out familiar streets and landmarks below. Lizzy talked about which alleys led to the best food, where merchants liked to cheat, and which roofs kids climbed when guards weren't looking. I listened, smiling more than I realized.
As the hour passed, the sky dimmed, and the sunstone lanterns flickered fully to life.
"We should head back, young master," Roswell said.
"Huh. I didn't notice," I replied, blinking.
I looked at Lizzy. "Thank you. I really enjoyed the tour."
She hesitated, then gave a quick nod, like she wasn't used to being thanked. "You're welcome."
I added, softer, "Alright, we're going now. I'll see you at the school."
Her eyes lit up. "Yes, young lo-lord."
Roswell looked and bowed slightly to Lizzy without saying a word.
She waved once before turning away.
Lizzy walked back toward the port, cheerful as ever, humming a tune under her breath. But as she turned into a narrow alley near the fish stalls, something felt off.
The noise of the market faded too quickly, swallowed by an unnatural silence. From the shadows between two stacked crates, a hooded figure stepped forward.
…
At dawn, we waited outside the carriage as Mother and Roswell wrapped up their work inside.
The air was colder than earlier, the kind that bit at your fingers and turned your breath into mist. The streets were quieter now. Most people had already gathered near the church for the start of the festival. In the distance, faint music and the crackle of torches being lit drifted through the air.
"You know they're going to light the fire soon," Isabelle said eagerly, bouncing on her feet.
"I know," I replied, rubbing my hands together for warmth. "We just need to wait a little longer."
I took another bite of the leftover grilled fish wrapped in paper. The oil had soaked through, but it was still warm. I glanced at her.
"Want some?"
She wrinkled her nose. "No, it's stinks."
"It tastes better than it smells."
She hesitated, then shook her head. "No. Just eat it."
I shrugged and finished chewing.
"Come on, the church is only a few blocks away. We'll miss it!"
"I said wait. They'll be done soon."
She frowned. "Stop acting like you're the older child."
I sighed. "I am older than you," I muttered to myself, while she was already storming off toward a side alley.
The town, once vibrant with festival colors and movement, felt strangely silent as more people walking toward the church square. Lights flickered overhead, and soft snow had begun to fall, blanketing rooftops and drifting down in slow, swirling patterns.
I guessed I should chase her back.
I hesitated but followed the path Isabelle had taken, turning down the narrow alley between two buildings.
That's when I saw them.
Three hooded men stood around her. One lay unconscious on the other side, blood staining the cobblestones. Isabelle was frozen in place, her back against the wall, her cheek red from being struck. Her eyes were wide with fear.
The men didn't look right. Their skin was pale, almost gray, stretched too tight over sharp bones. Their eyes twitched and flickered, unfocused yet locked on Isabelle. One of them sniffed the air, like a predator catching a scent.
"Shit, someone saw us," one of them growled. "Grab him!"
I didn't think. I just moved.
My hand slipped into my coat and closed around the small pocketknife Mother had given me. The metal was cold. Light. Then I flipped it open as I ran.
"Stop!" the first man shouted, lunging for me with his left arm.
Before he could touch me, I slashed across his wrist, then up into the crook of his arm, and drove the blade through his armpit. He jerked back, but I jumped and spun, landing a high kick to the side of his neck to knock him out.
The second one lunged in. I ducked low and stabbed his thigh. I tried to slash again, but he caught me with a hard kick, and I went crashing toward Belle.
"Argh!" I blocked with my other arm, trying to hide the pain, but it still hurt like hell.
"Belle!" I shouted. "Snap out of it! Run! Go to the other side!"
She didn't move.
Frozen. Damn it. Why now?
I looked around quickly. We were stuck in the middle of the alley. Belle was behind me, terrified. The only way out was the other end but there was no chance we could outrun them like this. I needed a distraction.
Shit.
My eyes landed on the man I'd knocked out. Still breathing.
Should I kill him? Or-.
"Argh! You little bastard!" the second man roared, charging at me, limping.
I grabbed a nearby trash bag and hurled it into his face. While he flinched, I leapt forward and stabbed at his eye. Just as I was about to finish him.
The third man grabbed my wrist and flung me back like a rag doll.
I slammed into the wall. Pain burst through me, and I coughed hard. Something wet filled my mouth.
Blood.
Dizzy. My hand trembled. Heart pounding too fast.
"Lucy!" Belle screamed, terrified.
I looked up.
The two I'd cut were already back on their feet. Flesh pulling itself together in ways it shouldn't. Wounds sealing.
Awakened?
"Stop playing and get them," the third man growled.
I grabbed Isabelle's wrist and yanked her toward me. "Run!"
We sprinted.
"HELP!" I screamed until my throat burned. "HELP!"
"Fuck! Move!" one of them yelled behind us.
"Lu-Lucian… I'm s-sorry-" she tried to say, her voice shaking, with watery eyes
"It's alright," I said, breath ragged. I shoved her forward and pushed her hard between the shoulders, sending her stumbling out of the alley toward the lit road.
"RUN! SCREAM!"
I turned back just as they reached me.
"Die! Fuc-" I slashed. Kicked. Bit. Anything to slow them down.
One man ran past me, but I threw the pocketknife and caught his leg, making him trip.
"Come back! you little bitc-" I crawled after him, grabbing his ankle, rage flaring hot in my body. "You're not walking away from me."
My hand was numb and bloody. Everything felt too heavy. But I stayed on my knees, clinging to his leg with all I had, dragging him back. With my other hand, I swung blindly at the second man as he closed in.
"Ha. That kid is crazy," the first man muttered.
Through blurred vision, I saw Belle in the distance. People had started to slow down, drawn by the commotion.
"Damn it! We only need that girl!" one of them barked.
Suddenly a hand grabbed me. Yanked me upright.
A third man pulled something from his coat, a ball-sized object then slammed it into the ground.
With a sharp hiss, black smoke burst upward, swallowing everything.
The last thing I heard was Belle shouting my name before the darkness consumes me.