The carriage ride to Harris Village took a little less than a week. Ron steered the carriage to a stop before hopping down to tie the horses up. He then went to the carriage door and opened it with a benign smile.
Cale stepped out of the carriage and stopped. He had expected to feel sad, angry, desperate, hurt, or even a sense of loss once he arrived, but strangely he felt nothing. No strong emotion wormed its way into his heart.
He looked around the small but quaint village. The eyes boring into his back did not go unnoticed. He turned to find Ron and Beacrox staring at him.
"I'm fine," he told the duo. "I'm gonna look for the other half of that power. Ron, as much as I hate to, can you find that punk bastard?"
Ron gave a small bow, though his eyes were hard. "I will bring him to you, and I'll make sure to keep him alive."
Cale hid his flinch at the man's words as he watched the assassin take off into the heart of the village. He then turned and began walking toward the entryway of the village. According to his mother's diary, it was somewhere toward the entrance but near the wall that separated the village from the Forest of Darkness.
As soon as he reached the narrow road that marked the entrance of the village, he turned and headed toward the towering stone wall. Beacrox stayed behind him the entire way.
As he neared the wall, a thrumming began in his heart. It felt as if he was being pulled. He allowed for it to happen and followed the tugging on his heart–or more like the area where the ancient power tattoo resided.
The thrumming intensified into an insistent tug as he reached the wall. "I think it's behind the wall," he told Beacrox.
The stiff-faced chef glanced toward the wall before approaching Cale. "Excuse me, Young Master," he said before pulling a startled Cale into his arms and jumping up onto the ledge of the wall. After making sure the immediate area was all clear, Beacrox once again jumped down with Cale in his arms.
Cale's heart would be shaking if it wasn't for the pulling sensation he felt. The need to find the rest of the ancient power was much stronger than the embarrassing act of being held in a lover's embrace by his chef.
He followed the tug in his chest, which was starting to become painful. Beacrox walked beside him with his broadsword drawn, his white gloves standing out against the black handle.
They walked for a few meters in silence. There was no conversation between the two of them as Cale focused on walking without falling. There were no signs of monsters, not even a rustle of leaves.
Before long, Cale came to a stop. The tugging in his chest had diminished enough for him to think clearly. Standing before them was a large tree with a red hourglass being hugged by one of the uplifted roots.
'Cale? Is that my precious baby boy?'
Cale felt his eyes widen and his breath hitch at hearing his mother's voice, the one that he remembered from his childhood. "Yes. I'm here, mother." He flat out ignored the look that Beacrox was giving him.
'I see you found my journal. Break the hourglass and my power will fuse back with its other half.'
Cale chuckled. "Mother, your tests seem to be biased and way too easy."
'Of course they are.' his mother didn't even try to hide or deny his accusation.
He wanted to listen to his mother's voice some more but knew it would be wrong to do so. Instead, he reached down and pried the hourglass loose before stepping on it with his foot. Cracking sounds resonate in the air before a green light emerged out of the broken hourglass and floated towards him. When the power sinks into his body, a small humming sound filled him before the sound turns into a wholesome feeling. The power was officially whole again.
Ron greeted them when they reached the village. "I assume everything went well on your end, Young Master?"
Cale nodded his head. "It did. How about yours?"
A frown instantly replaced Ron's benign smile. "Nobody has heard of a punk named Choi Han, nor could I find any trace of a person that matched his description."
"Huh? That's strange. I was positive that he lived here." He was certain that the punk bastard lived in Harris Village. He had–or used to have–the scar that ingrained the memory of Choi Han and Harris Village into him. Maybe the punk wasn't born in this village but had come to it sometime from now until the day the villagers were massacred.
Cale pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. "It doesn't really matter. I'll find a way to rope him into it later. For now, we can leave this village alone until I turn eighteen. I'm hoping to save it this time around and hopefully kill the White Bastard before he becomes too powerful."
"Not alone, you are not." Ron flashed him a scary looking benign smile that sent shivers down his spine. Cale quickly agreed that he wasn't going to do everything alone.
"Are we going to grab the other two powers?"
Cale shook his head at Beacrox's question. "We'll come back for them later." With that, the three of them headed to the carriage.
Before they could get on, Ron turned around in a blink-of-an-eye and silver flashed by Cale's face.
"Shit!" Cale shot a glare at Ron before turning around. A grim-faced man in his forties stood right beside the tree that the dagger was embedded in.
"Sorry for not sensing his presence sooner," Ron apologized with a stiff benign smile and cold, hard eyes.
Cale's lips twitched as he smoothed his facial expression. He turned toward the intruder and couldn't help the frown that appeared. "Who are you, and why are you following us?"
The ashen man turned his trembling eyes toward Ron before focusing his gaze back onto Cale. "I am Marcus Harvin. I work for the Assassin's Guild in the Gyerre Duchy. I am here for a personal matter when I spotted someone who most older assassins know and look up to as a role model."
Cale sneered. "I never realized you were that popular, Ron." The sneer from Cale's face dropped. "What is your personal matter?" He asked the man, his shackles raising even more at the possibility of a threat.
Ron flashed his dagger, practically playing with it as he toyed with Marcus' emotions.
". .A lo-loved one," Marcus' voice trembled as his eyes shook in fear.
Ron flashed a benign smile before disappearing. He came to a stop right beside the intruder, making the man flinch. Cale caught just the touch of admiration in the man's eyes. It looked like he was telling the truth about admiring Ron Molan.
"I'll take this little rabbit to verify his story. Beacrox, look after the young master," Ron ordered as he grabbed Marcus by the arm and dragged him back to the village.
Cale and Beacrox watched the scene play out before Cale turned and got back onto the carriage. He'll believe in Ron to not hurt anyone innocent. Though it was a little strange that the man gave up information so quickly. Weren't assassins known for keeping important information to themselves?
. . . .
The carriage door opened to reveal Ron with a benign smile and a slightly less startled Marcus. Cale closed the book that he had been reading after marking the page. "Hmm, still alive," Cale commented.
Marcus flinched but otherwise remained quiet.
The carriage took off at a steady pace before Ron spoke. "There was, in fact, a lover, but I would still like to check with the guild to see if the other part of his story is true."
Cale cocked an eyebrow at Ron. "Wouldn't that just alert them?" He really did not want to alert an assassins guild that he had one of their men. He also still needed to figure out what he was going to do with Marcus.
Ron scoffed. "Not if I do it stealthily." Catching onto what Ron was implying, he will have to give the man some time off–once they got back home that is.
Cale turned his attention to Marcus. "If you work in Gyerre, then why keep a lover all the way out here?" Long distance relationships just didn't make any sense. They were hard to maintain, and it was especially hard to see your lover. Cale knew that from experience. Dating a Dark Elf in the middle of a war was not the easiest thing to do.
He released a sigh. He really should not have thought about his lover. Though this time around, he might have the chance to meet his lover a lot sooner. Preferably before he was forty–he wanted to look young and handsome for his lover.
Marcus fidgeted in his seat, drawing Cale's attention back to the middle-aged intruder. ". . .She is not technically from the Henituse Territory. She has only recently been relocated to Harris Village since it was deemed safe."
"Oh?" Ron looked rather intrigued by the man's answer. "You fell in love with a mark?" Marcus nodded in answer to Ron's question. "Harris Village would indeed be safe. It is isolated and located in a neutral territory."
"Too bad it will be attacked," Cale muttered.
Marcus's eyes widened, and he practically fell out of his seat when he leaned closer to Cale. "What did you just say!" His panic was evident in his tone of voice and the quivering of his eyes.
Ron flashed a benign smile paired with stern, hard eyes at Cale, warning him that he needed to stop slipping up.
Cale ignored the man. "I'll tell you more once Ron proves your story and if he deems you skilled enough."
Ron flashed him another hard look, but Cale could see the intrigue in his eyes. "You wish to hire him." It wasn't a question but an observation.
Cale nodded. "Of course. Assassins are trained to move stealthily. If you approve of him, then I would like to hire him. We would have to fake his death though. Either way, everyone at the guild will believe that Marcus Harvin passed away. . .Hmm. . .A carriage accident should suffice."
Marcus gulped. He knew that his life was set in stone. He would either be leaving this situation in a body bag or permanently become one of this man's people. He really hoped for the second option.