The man before him was well-built, with crimson eyes and long silver hair. He wore a luxurious black-and-red gown adorned with golden stripes, and carried a brown leather bag of fine quality. Opening his mouth, he spoke:"What is a young man like you doing in the forest at such an hour? Are you lost?"
Waylen scrambled for a quick lie."No, I was just… gathering some apples."What a stupid excuse, he thought, praying the man would believe it.
"Apples? At this hour?" the man pressed. "Tell me, how did you manage to slip past the city watch and leave through the gates so late?"
Shit…"I… I could ask you the same. How did you manage it? And what are you doing in the forest?" He hoped deflecting with another question would throw the man off balance.
The man chuckled. "Touché. Though, if you must know, I hold certain privileges in this kingdom, I may leave the city whenever I wish. And as for why I'm here, well… let's just say I'm not here to pick apples… Artorias."
His blood ran cold. His face turned paler than it already was. That name, his true name. How could this stranger know?
"Y-you must be mistaking me for someone else," he stammered, forcing the words out, though his nervousness betrayed him.
The man's expression hardened. "I know exactly who you are. My sources told me of your past. A tragic past indeed. Though I don't yet know everything, I wish to hear the full story from you. But not now, we have no time. They will come for you, and if you are captured… we both know what awaits."
Artorias swallowed, struggling to breathe evenly. "Who are you? How… how do you know me? How did you find me?"
The questions were fair. His escape had been sudden, he hadn't even known he was leaving until today. How had this man discovered him? How did he know his name, his past, this very flight? Who was he?
The stranger crossed his arms, elegant gloves glinting faintly. His voice was calm, indifferent."Is my identity truly so important in your grave situation? Look at you, Artorias, you are running from those who would see you suffer for the rest of your life. I offer you aid. Do you care for the name of help, or do you care only to receive it?"
Artorias bristled with irritation. I only asked his name, what's with all this secrecy? He knows mine…
"Help? Why would you want to help me? And how could you even do so?"
The man answered smoothly:"I can spirit you away from this capital, see you out of the kingdom… and train you to claim your revenge."
The word struck him like a blow. Revenge? He had thought of it before, but hearing it offered aloud left him trembling. Revenge? Facing those cruel people again...the ones who tormented my parents until they lost their sanity? Facing them…? I'm too weak… His throat tightened, breath growing ragged. A sour taste of despair spread in his stomach. I can't defeat them… how could I…?
The man's gaze softened—slightly."I know what you think. They broke you, mind and body, until you nearly became nothing but a husk. But tell me: how did you escape? How did a coward, a so-called weakling, kill a guard, burn a prison, and flee if he had no will to live?" His tone sharpened. "You want to live. And if you want to live, you must destroy those who would take your life from you."
Artorias knew he was right. He couldn't explain what had driven him to kill that guard, to set the prison aflame and flee, but one truth burned within him now: he wanted to live. The reason didn't matter. The desire itself was enough. And now this stranger offered him a purpose...revenge.
Yes, it was a petty reason to live. Even if he achieved it, what would remain afterward? Still, to him revenge seemed impossible, a hopeless pursuit, yet if it kept him alive, if it gave him direction… then so be it. He could act the part, at least.
"I… I want revenge!" He tried to sound resolute.
The man stepped closer, seizing him by the collar."Artorias, I did not come all this way to be lied to. I am not someone you can deceive. Either make this mission your sole purpose, or die here."
Artorias gulped, staring into those crimson eyes with his own trembling ones. He had no choice. Revenge would have to be his purpose."Yes… I promise you. I will take my revenge. Even if my passion is not as fierce as you demand, I swear I will embrace this path and see it through. Is that enough for you?"
The man released him, satisfied."Yes. It is." He reached into his bag and drew out a dark cloak, handing it over. "Wear this, and follow me."
Artorias took the cloak, wrapping it tightly around himself, concealing his body, his sword, knife, pouch, and bottle at his belt."Thank you," he murmured.
The man answered, "Now, we need to go to the capital. There I will make the necessary arrangements for your safety."Artorias wanted to ask why this man wanted to help him, but he knew the man wouldn't answer. He just nodded and followed him. The capital wasn't far away; the man hopped onto his horse, which was tied to a nearby tree, pulled Artorias over it, held him, and rode toward the city.
They started to make their way to the entrance of the glorious capital. As they arrived at the large gates of the city, the portcullis was open. The capital was the safest place in the kingdom, so infiltration would be nearly impossible especially for someone unprepared like himself. Artorias's fingers were cold, his upper body was burning. He was trembling as he remembered the last time he came here. He forgot why he was here or how he came here for a moment. The man noticed his distress, squeezed his shoulders gently, and whispered, "Calm down, you are safe with me." That didn't calm him entirely, but knowing that he wasn't alone helped him remember where he was and what he was doing. His trembling subsided a bit.
One of the men from the city watch halted them. He was wearing a golden cloak over simple leather and metal-reinforced armor. He wore a plain steel helmet and carried a sword. He looked so different from the security division from his homeland.
"Halt! State your name and your reason in the city!" His voice was commanding. He had probably done this interrogation hundreds of times in his lifetime.
Artorias turned to the man who was standing beside him, calmly and proudly with his chin up. The man didn't speak; he only showed a simple document. The man of the city watch immediately recognized the document. He stepped back and raised his hand toward the city to gesture them to continue."Please continue, my Lord."
Lord? Did he just address this strange man as a Lord? Just who on earth is this guy?We entered the city with no further problems, but his mind was still filled with questions. How? Why? Who is this?
Artorias's eyes widened as he saw the city. He didn't have any good memories here. He closed his eyes as they passed through the outer, poorer district. After reaching the inner district, he opened his eyes. Seeing the capital's beauty under the stars and fires from the city lights finally subsided his trembling. This city was gorgeous with its large streets full of cheerful people with most of them with their families and friends, rich, decadent, and opulent houses and other buildings, reflecting the city's thriving and corruption. It featured large, imposing stone structures adorned with intricate details, ornate flourishes... But he hated it. Its beauty only reminded him of what he had lost. Everyone who lived in this city clapped their hands and laughed with insults while his parents were executed right in the middle of the market district. This gorgeous city looked so beautiful and peaceful, as if nothing had happened, as if they deserved to live such peaceful lives after what they did. He remembered the words of the prison guards about how comfortable and carefree these people were; he understood this better now. These people didn't care about anything as long as their lives weren't affected by it. He remembered the words of the stranger beside him, the words about revenge. The idea of revenge was sinking deeper and deeper into his heart; he started to embrace it...