The morning sun cut through the high windows of the guild's dining hall, lighting up dust drifting over the empty, scarred tables. The noise of last night's feast was gone, replaced by a hollow quiet that lingered in the rafters.
Alaric sat at the end of a long trestle, shoulders slumped. He held a strip of dried venison between his fingers.
Tani, the sand lizard, scurried in a tight circle on the wood before snapping the meat from Alaric's hand with impressive speed.
"At least someone's having a good morning," Alaric murmured.
The small creature chirped happily as it chewed. Sunlight slid across its golden scales, turning them warm and bright like polished brass.
Alaric watched the little reptile with a faint smile.
It did not last long.
The smile slowly faded, replaced by a distant heaviness. His gaze drifted to the floor, then to the windows, then nowhere at all.
The past few weeks pressed on him again.
Cold stone.
The suffocating silence of the sarcophagus.
The weight of the Scourge.
The faces of people he could not save.
"You know," Alaric whispered softly to the lizard, as if speaking to the table itself, "I don't know if I'm supposed to be here."
Tani paused mid-chew and looked up.
"Everything is different. The air. The stars. The way people talk to each other." He exhaled slowly. "It's all so loud."
His fingers idly scratched the lizard beneath its chin.
"I almost miss the mausoleum."
He hesitated, then added quietly,
"It was… peaceful. Quiet."
Tani tilted his head, glossy black eyes reflecting Alaric's tired face.
Alaric shook his head as if waking himself from a dream. He gently poked the creature's side.
"And you," he said.
The lizard flicked its tongue.
"Why did you run from me all those days ago? Back in the wastes when I first stepped into the sun again."
He frowned slightly.
"I thought I terrified you."
His brow furrowed deeper.
"And how did you find us again? Tracking me and Adam all the way to Redgate…"
Tani could not answer. It simply crawled closer and nudged Alaric's hand with its blunt snout.
The door at the far end of the hall creaked open.
Victoria stepped inside.
Her posture was looser, her expression calmer. In her hand was a small wooden bowl filled with translucent slices of shimmering fruit.
She sat down across from him and held the bowl forward.
"Here. Take some. You look like you're thinking hard enough to spring a leak."
She tossed a small slice toward Tani.
The lizard leapt and caught it midair with an excited squeak.
Victoria laughed softly.
"Gods, I love this thing."
She leaned forward and scratched gently along the lizard's back. Tani instantly puffed with pride, tail curling in delight.
"Look at him," she said fondly. "Perfect little monster."
Alaric took a slice of the fruit.
"What are these?"
"Arthur gave them to me," Victoria replied. "Candied fruit. Some specialty from the capital gardens."
Alaric took a bite.
His face immediately scrunched.
The sweetness was overwhelming.
"It's… a lot," he said slowly. "It's extremely sweet. Like eating a brick made of honey."
Victoria snorted.
Alaric quietly handed the rest of the slice to Tani, who accepted it with absolute joy.
Victoria watched the exchange.
"You spoil him."
"He deserves it."
Tani chirped again, clearly agreeing.
Alaric's expression slowly grew serious.
"Victoria," he began, his voice dropping an octave. "Tell me about Prince Arthur Drogan. I know the history of the Drogan, well, I don't. But I know exactly what it is," his eyes stayed steady.
"But, I know they are built on cruelty. Blood and conquest. So why is he playing the saint? Why is he being so friendly to us?"
Alaric's jaw tightened. He truly believed that Arthur was plotting something. Waiting to betray them.
Victoria sighed, the playful light leaving her eyes as she looked at the fruit in the bowl.
"I've wondered that myself. But I've known of him for a long time. Whenever my shitty excuse for a father would drag me to a ball or a gala at the palace, I'd see him."
She traced the rim of the bowl. "He was always alone. He'd stand near the balconies or in the gardens, never talking to the other royals, never whispering with the nobles. Even his own family looked at him like he was a stain on the rug."
"And when he did speak?" Alaric asked.
"He talked sweetly. Polite, charming. Royal," she said, her voice turning contemplative. "But there was something in his voice that always sounded… off. It's safe to say the nobles and the King don't like him. He's a loner, Alaric. An outcast with a crown."
She huffed a short, dry laugh. "Unfortunately, he found out I wanted to be a Knight pretty early on. Since then, he has pestered me… a lot. I think he likes anyone who doesn't fit into his father's mold."
Alaric remained silent, processing. It matched what he'd seen of the Prince's eccentric behavior, but the suspicion in his chest didn't quite ease.
"Is he… a cruel person?" Alaric asked finally. "Does he have that darkness in him?"
Victoria shook her head slowly. "Cruel? No, I don't think so. Unnerving? Yes, most definitely."
Victoria's answer hung in the air for a moment.
Alaric leaned back a little, folding his arms. His eyes wandered to the high windows again.
"Unnerving…" he repeated quietly.
Victoria shrugged.
"Yeah. That's the word for him."
Silence returned for a while. Tani scurried across the table, investigating the empty bowl with obsessive determination.
Alaric watched the small creature paw at the smooth wood.
"People who don't fit...." He said. The words felt familiar. After all, he was a prime example.
His fingers traced the deep grooves carved into the table by years of knives and tankards. The wood was old. Older than most people sitting in the guild hall probably realized.
Another pause settled over the table.
Victoria suddenly tilted her head.
"Hey."
Alaric looked up.
"Do you have parents?"
The question landed with surprising bluntness.
"A father? A mother?"
Alaric opened his mouth to answer. Then stopped. For a moment, nothing happened. His mind reached backward.
And found…
Nothing.
Not darkness.
Not even fog.
Just absence.
His subconscious mind filled with battles, with no direction. With no end. No start. Because there were no memories like that. None at all.
So, when he searched for something simple… something human…
A home.
A voice calling his name.
A hand on his shoulder.
There was only silence.
How could there be anything?
He had been drifting between death, sleep, and waking for over a thousand years.
Memories didn't survive that kind of time.
Not the fragile ones. Or in his case, all of them.
Alaric blinked slowly.
"…No," he said at last. He hesitated, "Not anymore… at least."
Victoria nodded quietly.
Her expression softened a little.
"Oh."
She picked up one of the remaining fruit slices and rolled it between her fingers.
"I thought so."
Alaric looked at her.
"You did?"
"Yeah."
She shrugged, almost plainly, "You've got that look."
"What look?" Alaric asked, curious about what she thought of him.
"The orphan look."
Alaric almost smiled. The absurdity of her words seemed like a joke to him. He didn't even think about that.
"Is that a thing?"
"Absolutely," Victoria said. "Knights are full of them. Half the guild probably crawled out of some gutter or burned village."
She popped the fruit slice into her mouth.
Then added casually,
"Honestly… I kind of envy you."
Alaric blinked.
"…You envy me? Why?"
Victoria...was a strange sort. But, still, she didn't know enough to be envious. Did she?
That caught him off guard. He knew her father was a terrible man.
But still.
"You have a mother, don't you?" he asked carefully, as not to make her sad.
Victoria didn't answer right away. Instead, a small smile appeared on her face. It was a practiced smile. The kind people wear when they don't want to show what's underneath.
"Not anymore," she said quietly.
Alaric felt something tighten in his chest.
"I'm sorry," he said. "What happened?"
Victoria looked down at the empty bowl.
Her voice stayed calm. Almost too calm.
"My father killed her."
The words landed like a stone dropped into still water.
Alaric froze. His expression shifted immediately. Shock. Real shock. Silent shock.
"What?"
Victoria shrugged slightly, as if discussing the weather.
"He was drunk," she said. "Or angry. Or both. Hard to tell with him."
Her fingers tapped the bowl.
"I was twelve."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The quiet of the hall felt heavier now.
Even Tani had stopped moving, as if understanding the silent sadness permeating in the wind.
Alaric stared at her.
Smething about the way she said it—
So simple. So casual. It unsettled him more than any of the monsters he had seen up until now.
"…Victoria," he said slowly.
She waved a hand dismissively, "It's fine."
"It is not fine."
"Well," she said with a crooked smile, "it's old."
She leaned back against the bench.
"Turns out growing up with a murderous tyrant makes you really motivated to become strong."
Her eyes drifted toward the high windows.
"Knights were the only people in the kingdom who could tell my father 'no.' Though they often didn't."
She looked back at Alaric.
"But, the ones in my books always did. So I figured I'd become like them."
The guilt inside him shifted again. He, up until now, always thought of Victoria as the biggest 'adult' other than him in the 'group' he had formed.
But, he understood, that she was also a child. A child that had been harmed.
And her words tugged at his heart, hard enough to make it bleed.
His hands reached out, and he sat up from the chair.
His hands rested on her head.
"Don't tell yourself that your memories, your pain, have no meaning. No value. Because," his hand seemed like a warm beacon in her haze of darkness.
"they do. They mean something. Don't lower yourself, please. Please...."
Victoria froze.
For a brief second she didn't react at all, as if her mind had not caught up with what had just happened.
Alaric's hand rested gently on her head, fingers brushing through her hair with an awkward sort of care.
The warmth of his palm lingered there.
Victoria blinked.
"…What are you doing?" she muttered.
But her voice lacked its usual bite.
Alaric didn't remove his hand.
Victoria looked down at the table.
Her fingers curled slightly around the rim of the bowl.
The words settled somewhere deep in her chest, in a place she usually kept tightly sealed.
"…You're weird," she said after a moment.
Alaric tilted his head.
"Weird?"
"Yeah." She exhaled through her nose. "Most people either pity me or try to change the subject."
She glanced up at him.
"You sound like you're apologizing."
Alaric's hand paused slightly in her hair.
"…Maybe I am."
Victoria frowned.
"For what?"
Alaric withdrew his hand slowly and sat back down.
"For not being there."
The words slipped out fast.
And they made her cry.
A single tear slid down her cheek.
Victoria blinked in surprise.
"…Huh."
Another tear followed.
She wiped it away quickly with the back of her hand, frowning as if mildly annoyed by the inconvenience.
"That's… embarrassing."
Her voice cracked a little.
She turned her head away, pretending to look at the window.
Alaric sat very still across from her.
He looked almost more uncomfortable than she did.
"I didn't mean to—"
"I know," she muttered.
Another tear slipped out despite her efforts to stop it.
Victoria laughed weakly under her breath.
"Gods… I haven't cried in years."
Tani cautiously crawled closer to her side of the table, tilting his head at the strange water leaking from the human's face.
Victoria sniffed.
"…Oh, Tani. I love you, you... beautiful being."
Tani continued staring, as Victoria softly petted his hide and then withdraw her hand.
Tani chirped happily.
She smiled faintly and continued petting him.
For a moment, the quiet of the hall felt softer.