Before the Arrival of Rethrus's Group
Deep in the woods of Aurelia, hidden beneath tangled branches and silence, stood a lone house. Isolated. Forgotten by most. Guarded by few.
"Man, this job sucks," Orin groaned, fanning himself with a scrap of newspaper. "It's boring. It's hot. And I'm sweating through my boots."
"Shut your mouth, Orin," said a sharp voice beside him. It belonged to a blue-haired man with spectacles sliding down his nose. Toby barely glanced up from the rune he was etching into the dirt. "You're loud enough to scare birds off the trees."
"Tch, whatever. You heard that Rethrus kid is coming to the city?" Orin asked, smirking as he conjured a small flame in his hand.
Toby sighed. "Yeah. What about him?"
"He's like… what, 15? 18? And they say he casts spells without even chanting. Me? I got one lousy fireball to my name." He chuckled and bounced the flame between his fingers.
"Stop playing with fire, dumbass. It's hot enough already."
"What are you morons doing?" a third voice snapped behind them.
A short woman with sharp pink hair stepped out from the shadows, arms crossed. Her glare was enough to cut steel.
"Sibel! You're here!" Orin grinned.
"Yeah, I'm here. Still watching over this dump for coin."
She kicked a loose rock aside. "I heard we're just babysitting some kid. Easy job, right?"
"A kid?" Toby raised an eyebrow. "What's so special about this one?"
Sibel shrugged. "No clue. But Frings' members made it clear—this one's important. More important than most of us, that's for sure."
Orin laughed. "Easy money, then! Just sitting in the woods, roasting like pigs, and guarding some brat."
"Then maybe stop roasting yourself!" Toby and Sibel barked in unison.
"Alright, alright," Orin muttered, letting the flame vanish with a flick.
That Afternoon
A creaking chariot rolled up the dirt path, pulled by weary horses and cloaked in dust. It stopped just in front of the old house.
From within stepped a knight—tall, rigid, and clad in dark armor dulled by travel. He carried with him a small, pale girl. Her clothes were ragged, her hair tangled. Eyes empty, like glass that had seen too much.
The charioteer, an older man, hopped down after him and followed them into the house.
"So… you're the three hired for this mess?" the knight asked, voice flat.
"Uh—yes, sir. We are," Toby replied, standing a bit straighter.
All three of them stared at the girl. She looked no older than ten. Dirt clung to her skin. She didn't flinch, didn't blink—just stood there like a shadow with breath.
'Avalorian,' Toby realized.
"Uh, if I may, sir," Toby spoke up again. "Could you tell us more about the mission?"
The knight paused.
"Hm… yes," he said bluntly. "Your job's simple. Watch the kid. Feed her. Don't let her run. 5 days starting tomorrow, that's all. I'll be guarding the house too, but don't expect me to babysit."
With that, he handed the girl over—like she was nothing more than cargo.
Orin took a step back, looking the girl over with a wrinkled nose.
"Ugh. Is she even breathing? Damn, this is creepy."
"Don't be an ass," Sibel snapped, brushing past him. She knelt in front of the girl, inspecting her more carefully.
"She's dehydrated. And look at those wrists—rope marks."
Toby rubbed the back of his neck. "So this is what we're protecting? Feels like we're guarding a ghost."
Orin leaned over, whispering, "Bet she bites."
The girl didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stared blankly at the floor, as if none of them were even there.
Sibel stood up, brushing dust off her knees. "Get her some water, Toby. And food in the supply room."
Toby nodded and walked off, muttering, "Should've brought more stew…"
Orin kept his distance. "So… Lord Frings really thinks this little gremlin's worth paying three guards for?"
"She's not just a kid," Sibel murmured, eyes narrowing as she studied the girl again. "Avalorian. And someone Lord Frings wants hidden. That makes her dangerous—or valuable."
Orin rolled his eyes. "Or both."
The knight turned at the door. "I'll be watching the perimeter. Don't mess this up. If she disappears, you all do."
He left without waiting for a reply. The heavy door groaned shut behind him.
Toby returned with a chipped cup of water and some bread. He knelt beside the girl and gently offered them. "Here. You… hungry?"
She didn't respond at first. Then slowly, her fingers curled around the cup. She drank in tiny sips, shaking slightly.
"She's scared out of her mind," Toby muttered. "Poor thing."
"She's not the only one," Orin added, walking toward the window and peeking out.
Sibel crossed her arms. "Whatever it is, we've got five days. We do our job, get paid, and walk away. Easy."
Sibel gently guided the girl toward the bathing area, her steps slow and careful. The child didn't resist, but she didn't help either. Just moved like a hollow shell.
Inside, Sibel filled the tub with warm water and knelt beside it. "Alright, sweetie. Let's get you clean."
The girl sat in silence, eyes vacant. Sibel worked gently, untying the rags that passed as clothes and helping her into the water. She didn't flinch, didn't speak—just stared into the surface like it was another world.
Sibel began washing her, careful not to startle. She hummed a soft tune from her village, a lullaby she barely remembered. The kind mothers sang to babies in the cold.
When the grime started to fade, Sibel paused, blinking.
"…Gods," she whispered.
The girl's skin was pale and flawless beneath the dirt. Her hair, now damp and combed back, so dark as night. Eyes like frozen lakes stared blankly ahead.
"She's… beautiful."
In the common room, the three men sat around a rough wooden table, cards in hand and boredom setting in.
"I swear," Orin groaned, tossing down a card, "this is the dumbest job I've ever taken. Five days of sittin' on our asses in the middle of nowhere."
"You're loud," the charioteer muttered, barely looking up.
"Yeah, well—someone's gotta say it. That knight freaks me out. All stiff and scary. What, does he just stand outside breathing like a statue?"
Toby sighed, resting his chin on his hand. "As if anyone's gonna show up out here. It's just one kid."
Orin leaned in a little, lowering his voice. "Then why hide her? Why dump her in a place no one knows exists?"
"I just drive the damn chariot, man. No one tells me anything," the charioteer replied, shrugging.
'She's Avalorian,' Toby thought,his brows furrowed. 'And the Avalorian envoy arrives in 3 days...'
Suddenly, a voice called from the hall.
"Toby!"
He looked up, startled. At the doorway stood Sibel—and beside her, the girl, freshly bathed and dressed in a simple tunic.
But it wasn't her clothes that drew attention.
Toby blinked.
She looked radiant—fragile, yes, but ethereal. Her black hair fell neatly to her shoulders, and her clear skin caught the lantern light like polished glass. She still said nothing, but her presence filled the room.
"Damn," Orin said, nearly dropping his cards. "That's a pretty girl right there."
"Freak," Sibel snapped, shooting him a glare.
Toby echoed her, "Freak."
"What?" Orin raised his hands defensively. "It's just a compliment!"
The charioteer snorted, chuckling into his drink.
Sibel stretched and wiped her hands on her apron. "Alright. I'll run a bath for myself. Toby, can you carry her to the room? Lay her down on the bed."
Toby nodded and stepped over. The girl didn't resist when he gently lifted her. She was light, far too light.
As they walked down the hall, Toby glanced at her. "Hey… what's your name?"
No answer. Just that same blank stare.
"You alright?"
Still nothing.
He sighed. 'Poor kid. Must've been through hell.'
He pushed the door open with his foot and stepped inside, laying her down gently on the soft bed. The sheets looked too clean for someone so quiet, so hollow.
Toby knelt beside her. "If something's bothering you… you can tell me, okay? I promise—no one's gonna hurt you while I'm around."
He smiled, a small one, trying not to scare her.
As he turned to leave, he felt a tug on his sleeve.
"Hm?" He looked down.
Her small hand held onto his shirt, tight.
She leaned up slightly, just enough to whisper. He bent closer, eyes narrowing in curiosity.
Then she spoke.
Two words. Faint. Hoarse.
"…Help me."