Pendrick Dorn had been abnormally busy as of late, and it all started about a week ago with him cheating death not once but three times on the same day.
There were a lot of things that he had planned, of course, only in the case that he survived the Lukan Arena. All of that went straight out of the window thanks to a certain inconsiderate helmet wearer.
Now, he was waiting at the estate gate for his "escort" that Fernand insisted on him having at all times, starting today.
He looked up, a smile forming when he saw a familiar head of sheepish black hair stepping out from the main building. Standing straight to call him over, a scowl replaced his joyful countenance when he spotted the helmeted man following from behind.
"Pendrick!" the fluffy-haired man called, waving as he jogged toward the blonde. "How's it going?"
"I'm good," Pendrick said curtly, turning his gaze toward Frid. "Bach... what's he doing here?"
"Ah... Lord Henry appointed him as your escort." Bach blurted nervously, eyes shifting between the two men who were regarding each other coldly.
"I refuse."
The sheepish man pulled Pendrick aside, attempting to speak to him in a hush but failing miserably.
"Hey, look," he said, persistently looking back at Frid. "There are certain things you just have to go along with, you know!"
"I refuse."
"Lord Henry is being unusually gracious, letting you do as you please!" Bach explained, his tone pleading. "Don't test the man, please! For all of our sakes!"
The blond took a glance at Frid.
"I still refuse."
"Pendrick!"
"Fine, fine," Pendrick conceded, his hands raised in mock surrender. "I'll play along with Fernand for your sake."
Bach released a loaded sigh, catching sight of the slaves tending to the gardens, who gave him a pitiful look. He released a nervous laugh, waving at them and gesturing to them that he would be fine.
"I don't like being involved in whatever this is, either," Frid said, walking closer. "As a start, I need to know."
He leaned down to Pendrick's eye level, as if searching the depths of the man's eyes for any trace of deceit.
"Is this your scheme or his?"
Pendrick looked plainly at Frid, the sides of his lips twitching upwards but being restrained at the last moment.
"Fernand's trying to reap some of the benefits," he started, making for the outside of the estate.
The blond's head turned halfway toward Frid and Bach. "But it's not his initiative."
Frid relaxed, coming into step with Pendrick.
"Okay, then we won't have any problems."
Bach sighed, then ran to catch up with the two men.
"What are we even supposed to be doing?"
Pendrick's eyebrow raised. He jokingly looked at the sheepish man in exaggerated confusion.
"I don't even know why you're here," he said. "Fernand let you go on a stroll or something?"
Bach looked like he actually took offence to the statement. He puffed his chest out, patting it in confidence.
"Actually, he believed that I could keep you two from murdering each other."
Pendrick scoffed, putting his hands in his pockets and leaning his posture forward as he walked.
"Even without you here, nothing would've happened," Frid chimed in, looking around and then placing his full attention on Bach. "There would be no reason for it."
"No reason?" Bach looked at the two, perplexed at them acting as if they hadn't exuded murderous intent every time they saw each other.
"You couldn't even stop him if you had to," Pendrick said, pointing over to their helmet-wearing companion with his head. He came to a stop in front of a bar, prompting the men following him to become still as well.
"This is it."
"Okay," Frid said. "And it is what exactly?"
Without answering the question, Pendrick stepped inside. Bach looked at Frid, his face apprehensive. Frid responded to the other man with a shake of his head before walking in after Pendrick.
Despite being daytime, the inside was already rowdy, day drinkers having their early revelries. Men hopped on stools, bellowing old drinking songs at the top of their lungs. In another section, men argued fervently over a game of dice, looking as if they would escalate to violence at any moment.
On the surface, everyone in the establishment seemed preoccupied with their own dealings. Subtly, however, eyes turned to follow the trio as they approached the barkeep.
"Hey there!" Pendrick leaned confidently onto the counter, making eye contact with the man behind it.
The man kept polishing the glass in his hand, uninterested in conversing with the blond. His eyes shifted to the far edge of the counter, where two hooded figures sat, then looked back into Pendrick's gleaming eyes.
'Problem after problem today...'
He sighed, putting the glass down and slinging the rag over his shoulder.
"What do you want, Dorn?"
Pendrick smiled. "So you do remember me, Belrut?"
A deep scowl formed on the man's face as he glared daggers at the blond.
"It's a misfortune that I do," he said blandly. "I heard you were a slave now. How are you here?"
"Forget about that." Pendrick waved the question away. "I'm here for two things, right now."
He raised two fingers.
"Can I get one of the private rooms?" he asked, lowering one of the fingers. "It would be great if it were one of the ones further in."
The bartender hesitated, eyes losing focus as he appeared to be in deep thought.
After a minute, he looked at Frid and Bach, lingering on them for what felt like another minute.
'Are they...?'
"So can we get it or not?" Pendrick asked plainly.
Belrut closed his eyes, exhaling sharply. "You can."
"What's the second thing?" He then asked, looking at Pendrick.
"I want to meet the owner of this place."
Despite their attempts to keep up the facade, Frid picked up that the tension in the room had increased, and the glances from the other patrons had become more hostile.
"That won't be possible."
"Really?" the blond asked. "Is that their decision or yours?"
Belrut leaned in on the counter, glaring at the green-eyed man.
"Don't push it, Dorn," he spat out venomously. "What I say is what it is."
The two stared each other down, neither saying anything.
The sounds of chairs scratching against the wooden floor elicited a sigh from Frid. He turned away from the counter, stepping toward the crowd, who now blatantly looked at them with ill intent.
"Don't do that," Pendrick said coldly. "My friend here is destructive. It would be a shame for so many to die today."
The barkeep refused to falter.
"Then hurry up and get out of here," he retorted. "So that no one gets hurt."
Pendrick stood up, leaning further forward, inches from the man now.
"I'm meeting your boss."
Bach fidgeted nervously, looking for an early escape route from the mess that was going to happen here.
The sound of a wooden cup hitting the counter broke through the tension.
Everyone in the pub refused to acknowledge the source, each one sitting back down and resuming what they were doing previously. All except the three and the barkeep.
Belrut looked at one of the two hooded figures who was holding the cup, swallowing hard. His eyes widened as he registered what they mouthed.
Gritting his teeth, he turned back to Pendrick.
"The owner will meet you."
Pendrick looked at Belrut in surprise, actually caught off guard by the turn of events.
"For real?"
"Yes..."
The blond's face twisted into a mocking smile. "Was that so hard?"
If the barkeep could break something in that moment without incurring a loss, he would've.
"You know the way," he said grudgingly. "Screw off to the room you asked for. They'll come meet you soon."
Pendrick walked off to the far end of the counter, signalling the other two to follow him. As they turned the corner around the table, they passed by the two mysterious strangers, Frid and Pendrick locking eyes with them.
Belrut messed with something under the table, triggering the wall the trio stood in front of to open up.
"Let's go." The blond continued leading the way into the dark tunnel.
---
- Fernand Estate -
Astelle had somehow found herself roped into accompanying Evora while she looked after the kids.
She watched as the redhead was being overwhelmed by the sheer number of children grappling onto her. Turning to her right, she acknowledged a green-haired girl who hadn't given her a moment of personal space.
"Um..." Astelle started, the girl's blue eyes turned to look up at her. "Are you okay?"
The child nodded before going back to looking at the tree Astelle sat against with deep fascination.
"This is a first," Evora said, walking up to them with Daphne hanging off her neck, nearly choking her. "Lucy never gets close to others."
The redhead wrenched the energetic child off and gently set her back on the ground.
"Except Frid!" Daphne chimed in.
Astelle looked at Lucy, who turned at the sound of the conversation.
Evora nodded. "True. Frid is generally liked by everyone, but Lucy does show a preference toward him." She hummed. "Don't know why."
Lucy perked up. "The voice really likes Frid. It's waiting for him," she explained, her tone soft and gentle.
Evora, Daphne, and Astelle all stared at her.
"She talks?!" Daphne exclaimed, jumping up.
"Daphne!"
"What do you mean?" Astelle asked, ignoring the other two.
"The voice," Lucy tried to explain, confused that she had to elaborate. "You know, right? It's everywhere, but especially in the trees."
Evora and Astelle exchanged a look. Astelle then leaned closer to the young girl.
"What is it saying now?"
Lucy looked up at the leaves, her eyes becoming glazed over. She remained quiet for what felt like an eternity, making Evora approach in concern, only to be held back by Astelle, who simply motioned that they should let it play out.
Finally, light returned to Lucy's eyes.
"It's calling a name," she said. "I don't know how to say it. It doesn't sound normal."
"How do you know it's a name?" Evora asked hesitantly.
Lucy blinked. "I don't know..."
"But," she continued, pointing at Astelle. "You make it happy. It's excited to see you."
Silence fell over them, the older girls unnerved by the conversation and the younger ones blissfully oblivious to it all.
---
- The Lawless City, Balcoa -
Rumbles permeated the entire area, and Arie was left with the responsibility of ensuring both she and Ilan made it out of here safe.
She carried the man piggyback through the alleyways. Originally, she'd been aiming for the Tram station to get them out into the Haze and out of here, but with the chaos, she was doing her best just to stay alive.
"They're together... missing piece... grief... keep them away..."
Ilan had been muttering since earlier. Whether it had meaning, she wasn't sure, but since he started after using his powers, she chalked it up to something he'd have to clarify later.
She was unsure what he had seen, but he had clutched his head in pain and fallen to the ground in laboured breaths.
The physical backlash wasn't abnormal; it happened every time he did this. Never before had he experienced a mental fallout, though.
'Is he really alright?'
She wasn't spared the time to dwell on it as something crashed down in front of them, sending debris and dust billowing outward.
"Ah." A man stepped out of the cloud. "Maybe I jumped the gun. Figures I'm not ready for this."
Arie spun on her heel, ready to bolt—but Ilan suddenly went limp, then twisted free of her grip, hitting the ground hard.
"Ilan!"
The grey-haired man crawled toward the mystery man and weakly latched onto his pant leg.
"Take us," Ilan said, his voice steady despite his shaking hands. "Let us become your prisoners."
Arie watched in a mix of shock and confusion at what her companion was saying.
The stranger looked down at Ilan, brushing his long red hair back.
"What are you on about, man?"
---
Bach looked between the two men in the room with him, confusion written plainly across his face.
The space wasn't exactly the picture of luxury. It contained a singular wooden table in the middle and six metallic chairs. It felt more like an interrogation room than anything else. The lone lamp hanging from the ceiling didn't help.
Still, what unsettled Bach the most wasn't the room.
It was them.
Frid sat back in one of the metal chairs, as relaxed as he could be. Across from him, Pendrick flipped through a newspaper he'd stolen from a passerby on their way here.
"So, did you find what you wanted?" Frid asked casually.
Pendrick turned a page without looking up.
"No..." he responded. "Well, I did test my theory. But it's a bust."
"Another method it is, then," Frid replied with a nod.
Bach stared at them. Just days ago, they'd been at each other's throats. Earlier today, they'd barely tolerated each other's presence, but now they were talking normally inside this sketchy room.
"What is going on here?" he finally demanded, his ignorance becoming too much to bear.
"Hmm?" they said in unison, turning to look at him.
Bach looked frustrated at what he believed was them playing dumb.
"Why are you suddenly so buddy-buddy?"
"You were angry at him for whatever reason," he continued, pointing from Pendrick to Frid, then going in reverse. "And you held a grudge from him stabbing you!"
"Oh, that..." Frid started, glancing at Pendrick, silently passing him the burden of explanation.
The blond looked back at him, puzzled, then sighed and turned to Bach.
"We exaggerated things."
Bach straightened. "What?"
"We wanted to push the narrative that an incident had happened," Pendrick said, setting the newspaper down. "But it got out of hand. So we just rolled with it."
"He did actually stab me, though," Frid added.
Pendrick frowned. "You asked me to."
Bach pressed his fingers to his temples, the confusion finally tipping over into a headache. He raised a hand.
"Start from the beginning. Please."
Frid and Pendrick exchanged a look, then leaned forward in their chairs, beginning to recount everything that had happened since that day in the arena.