Flint sat on a chair, looking exhausted as he gazed into the empty air. It was as though his soul had escaped him.
'Demon… She's a demon.'
After being found out, he had to listen to his mother's lecture for what felt like an abnormally long period of time. And the expressions she made while lecturing him—it was as though she had been possessed by those demons, the ones she told him stories about when he was little.
'But why? What's so wrong about listening a little?'
He didn't understand why his parents stopped him from knowing about such matters. He wanted to know more; he wanted to see the soldiers fight. Wouldn't the sight of their battle be amazing?
Flint sighed and looked beside him from the corners of his eyes. His father sat nearby, looking at him with pity. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he asked.
"Father, why do you stop me from knowing these matters? I just want to know the reason. I'll be a good boy if you tell me."
His father rubbed his beard as he thought for a bit.
"Obviously, because you're a kid."
Flint's expression soured.
"What? Were you expecting some profound answer, son? You're young right now, and we want you to enjoy this part of your life. When you grow up, you'll miss this time. You'll wish you could've remained a kid forever. So play around and don't think about these things. It's the adult's job to worry about that."
His father's words made him pause. What stood out to him was his father's tone as he spoke. Flint could sense a subtle longing in it.
"Do you miss it, Father? Your childhood days?"
Hesitation appeared on his father's face, yet the longing he had previously sensed intensified greatly.
"I… don't, actually. I would rather not remember that time."
A sigh escaped his lips.
"I didn't have the luxury to play around when I was your age, son. I was an orphan, yet no orphanage took me in since my parents weren't part of the army. I had to give my all to simply survive."
He smiled, which somehow looked sad.
"I remember watching children my age play together happily, and I remember wishing I could also do that. Perhaps that is why I want you to enjoy your childhood, I don't want you to experience that feeling, son."
A heavy feeling settled in Flint's chest after hearing those words. It made him close his mouth as he forgot all about what he was previously thinking.
Soon, dinner was ready, and everyone sat together at the table, enjoying the meal. Dragon was also served his meal, and as Flint had promised earlier, he had asked his mother to give extra food to the little guy.
Dragon wagged its two tails as it swiftly finished the food in the bowl.
After everyone finished eating, his mother turned off the lamps and drained their oil. The interior of the house turned dark as all lights were extinguished. Only the faint illumination of the moonlight prevented complete darkness.
All three of them lay down on the bed, with Flint in the middle. In the silence, where only the occasional screeching of insects was heard, he remained motionless, trying his best to fall asleep. But no matter how much he tried, he didn't feel sleepy.
After hesitating for a bit, he asked in a hushed tone.
"This incident that's happening right now, and all the previous ones in the past, why did they happen at all? I mean, why does the viscount fight? I don't understand."
For a while, there was only silence, then his mother's hushed voice entered his ears.
"Because he is a bad person. He is greedy and doesn't love the people living in his territory. All he cares about is gaining more power. Count Vanderis isn't any different either."
'Bad person, huh? Then why do the soldiers serve him? Why do knights swear loyalty to him?'
Were the knights and soldiers also bad people? And if they weren't, then why do they listen to a bad person? He didn't understand. Perhaps because he was young. Maybe he'll understand once he grows older, like his parents.
"Then what about Count Flori? Is he also a bad person?"
"Count-what? Flori? Hahaha!" she burst into laughter. "No, they aren't bad people like the other two. All regional nobles are peaceful and love the citizens of their territory."
She paused, then spoke in a tone mixed with subtle longing.
"Dear, can't we move to Florivelle territory? I know it would cost a lot to settle there, but it'll still be cheaper in the long run, considering how much tax we have to pay here, not to mention the living conditions. Is it… not possible?"
Flint didn't reply. She wasn't addressing him in the first place. The reply came soon after.
"Truth be told, I've been thinking something similar. I just didn't know how to break it to you. I thought you would be attached to this place. Well, it's getting late, so sleep now, we'll talk more about it tomorrow."
'What? We are moving somewhere else?'
Hearing his father's words filled Flint's heart with excitement. It wasn't that he had no attachment to this house, but it wasn't enough that he would decline moving somewhere better. Now he couldn't wait for tomorrow to come.
His eyes grew heavy as he slowly drifted off to sleep…
***
Thud
'Um…?'
Thud
'Umm…'
BANG!
'Ah?! What was that?!'
A loud noise, akin to something shattering, woke him from his comfortable sleep. Rubbing his eyes, he saw his parents rise as well, looking at each other quietly.
"A thief," his father said.
Thieves were common in this neighbourhood; quite a few thefts had happened in recent years. A thief had previously tried to break into their house, too, but he was chased away by Flint's father.
Signalling them to stay quiet, his father moved with muffled steps. His mother carefully followed a few steps behind him as they moved toward the hall.
Flint peeked through the doorframe but soon froze. A man was carrying another man on his back, both wearing dark military outfits painted crimson–drenched in blood. The one being carried seemed unconscious, while the one carrying him was missing an arm.
Carefully, he put the unconscious man on the floor, supporting his back against the wall. He looked around before pulling the tablecloth, tearing it and tying it around the unconscious man's leg. It was only now that Flint noticed–the unconscious man was missing a leg.
After finishing, the man turned in their direction even though they were all hidden well. Flint noticed two long scars running across the man's cheek and forehead.
"Stay quiet, and nothing will happen to you. We will stay here for a few days and then leave. Treat us like we aren't here, and you'll all be safe. If anybody asks, lie."
His voice sounded both cold and heavy. As though he was issuing a command and refusing was not an option.
"You… you're both the count's soldiers, aren't you?" Flint heard his father's hesitant voice.
"And? What of it?"
"If someone finds you people here, then we'll get executed for sheltering an enemy. Yet you say we'll be safe?"
"You'll be safe as long as no one finds us. And if we are found out," the man's eyes sharpened. "Then you'll all be slaughtered by me before any execution takes place."
Flint felt goosebumps rise on his back as he heard the man's chilling declaration. Both his parents continued to stare at the man tensely.
"Hah… If you guarantee our safety, not like we have any other choice."
His father let out a defeated sigh and came out of hiding, revealing himself to the man. The man spared him a glance before turning away and continuing to patch his unconscious comrade's wounds. Having been ignored, Flint's father looked at the now broken door of their house.
"...Let me fix that, it'll draw attention otherwise."
He walked out, and the man glanced at him once again from the corner of his eye. Flint shifted his gaze between his mother, who still looked tense, and the man with the scars.
'Are we… really letting them stay here?'
He looked at his hand, still trembling. Just then, he felt a soft sensation on one of his legs. Looking down, he saw Dragon rubbing its fur against his leg.
The sight somehow calmed him down.
He took a deep breath and picked Dragon up, holding the creature tightly.
'It's all going to be okay.'
But the moment the thought came to him, his father suddenly rushed inside, raising an axe above the man's head.
"You'll kill us the moment you get the chance. After all, it'll be far less risky than letting us live. Did you really think I'll ever surrender the safety of my wife and child to you?! Not even in your dreams!!"
He swung the axe down, aiming for the man's neck.
The axe came down, tearing through the wind, but it stopped inches away from the man's neck. The man had blocked the axe, holding its blade with his only arm, keeping it firmly in place.
He looked up, directing his chilling gaze at Flint's father.
"Didn't I tell you… not to make a sound?"
"Y-you, you're a m-mana user!" His father's expression was filled with shock.
Those were the last words he spoke, because in the next moment, Flint saw a flash of bluish light and his father fell limply on the floor. The man now held a sword covered in blood. It all happened so quickly that Flint was neither able to follow it, nor understand what actually happened.
"NO!! Dear, why!!!" His mother cried at the top of her lungs.
Only now did he understand what had happened and its meaning.
"A-ah… No… NO! FATHER!!!"
He lost strength in his legs, falling to the floor. His mind spiralled as the image of the blood on the man's sword, as well as the scene of his father's body falling limply, kept playing in his mind on repeat. A cold feeling settled in his chest, and he could feel something rising from his stomach.
"I told you all to keep your voices down. Do you people not want to live?"
"No!! Flint! RUN!!!"
He came to his senses as he heard his mother's desperate shout. The man was looking at them with his cold gaze while holding the sword.
"Flint!! RUN! You have to LIVE!!!"
'Ah! N-no! I don't want to die!'
A chilling sensation gripped his heart, freezing him in place. The image of the sword covered in blood continued flashing in his mind, keeping him from thinking rationally.
But suddenly, his mother's voice flashed through his mind.
'RUN!!!'
His body responded on its own as he stood up and broke into a sprint towards the broken entrance. The man raised his blade, aiming at Flint's escaping figure. He closed his eyes, expecting to be cut down, yet the blade never came as he escaped outside.
As he ran, he could hear his mother's pained cries coming from the house.
The neighbourhood slowly became illuminated as the nearby houses turned on their lights. The people must have woken up due to the loud noises.
But Flint's steps didn't pause. Still clutching Dragon tightly in his arms, he continued running with everything he had as his mother's voice continued to play in his mind.
'RUN!!!'