Urban Knight - Return of Legends

Raphael had put out the ‘closed’ sign outside the bar, as no other visitors had decided to show up. The rest lingered at the counter, and basked in the afterglow of a delicious dinner. Ascalon watched as Lilithra fiddled with a small, thin black box, while Selorien was reclined on his chair, yawning from time to time.

It was quite late, and as much as they wished to invite the knight to stay, both friends knew that it would only lead to annoying lectures from headquarters. They had already postponed the wanderer’s visit there for far too long.

“Alright, I contacted the Guildmaster, he’ll let headquarters know we’re on our way.” Lilithra exclaimed with a tired voice. Selorien nodded and sluggishly made an effort to get up.

They both looked at the knight, who showed a hint of confusion on his face. “Hey, we were actually supposed to take you somewhere, ‘as per protocol’, but yeah, we kinda ditched that.” Selorien made an annoyed expression before shooting a half-smile at the blonde man.

“We’ll take you there now, aight? Shopping tomorrow, Lil?” He added, as the girl nodded. It seemed they had already kind of ‘adopted’ Ascalon, but he couldn’t feel anything other than appreciation for them.

Mere hours ago, he had felt completely lost and somewhat panicked, but now he was even relaxed. “It will be an honor to accompany you, now and tomorrow.” Responded Ascalon, smiling gently at the pair.

Lilithra joined in on the smiles and then stretched her arms above her head, releasing some pent-up exhaustion before making her way to the door. “We’re leaving, Uncle!” She shouted, as her figure crossed through the doorway.

Selorien and Ascalon promptly followed, while the master of The Chalice waved cordially. “Don’t get into trouble now, y’hear Lil?!” With these parting words behind her, Lilithra giggled, and the group made their way through the streets.

There were few people around at the time, and the wind had picked up, howling through the passages. A light pole flickered, and dogs barked in the distance—a premonition of things to come.

The trio was walking at their own pace. Lilithra and Selorien were talking among themselves, the latter had put on his hood again, and Ascalon could pick up a few words here and there. They were probably making plans for the next day, and the girl seemed as excited as she had been earlier.

Yeah, that suited her better than the expression she had made at dinner. He quickly vanished these thoughts, as he didn’t want to let his curiosity lead him to pry, once again.

Luckily, her voice saved him from his own mind. “Uhm, Ascalon! They’ll bombard you with a ton of questions and be annoying, but they just want to help you out, okay?” She reassured him, smiling gently. He knew that neither Selorien nor Lilithra would lead him somewhere bad, so he simply nodded in understanding.

Seeing his expression, she continued. “They’ll probably ask about you and explain to you a few things about the Gifted network. You can tell them you already know some stuff, too, to speed things along!” Selorien looked back as he walked, and chimed into the conversation.

“Yeah, they’ll also register you to their database and stuff. Maybe even find you a place to live—” But he couldn’t finish his sentence before Lilithra interjected.

“No! He’s staying with us at Uncle’s!” She exclaimed selfishly, just like a capricious kid. Selorien was a bit taken aback, but then let out a defeated laugh.

Ascalon was a bit surprised too, and wondered if he deserved such kindness. He was still pretty much a complete stranger to them.

“Lady Lilithra, you have already done enough for me… I could not impose on your home, too.” She stopped for a second and pointed a finger at him, her expression filled with resolution.

“No! It’s already decided! I’ll convince Uncle, easy peasy.” And after her triumphant remark, she continued walking.

Selorien snickered to himself, while Ascalon sighed and accepted his fate, showing a resigned but gentle expression. “You have my gratitude, lady Lilithra.” She skipped happily as she heard his words. She couldn’t get enough of the ‘lady’ treatment, and Selorien couldn’t help but keep giggling.

Ascalon thought that these were some peaceful moments, something he could become fond of. But the night was far from over, and as he feared, there were still a few surprises to be had.

It was then that Ascalon’s honed senses picked up on something, yet another presence to be on the lookout for. He had his fair share of that sensation since he had arrived at New Lumingard, and was learning to recognize those who were going about their business, mostly to not be wary about every single thing.

But this was different; it was a familiar feeling, and he knew that this individual was focused on them. Like a pack of wolves searching for prey, Ascalon noticed quite a group approaching in the distance, gathering around the first presence. He halted in his tracks, his attention on the distant scene, and the friendly duo looked at him with questioning stares.

The first to react was Selorien, recalling that something similar had happened before. Following his intuition, he quickly turned around and fixated his eyes in the direction Ascalon was watching.

Surely enough, a group of people were approaching, recognizable by their distinctive leather jackets adorned with a logo of a flaming fist in red, yellow, and black colors. Selorien was now convinced of Ascalon's exceptional senses, far beyond the norm, but he pushed aside the thought for the moment.

Right now, he needed to focus on the unfolding event. “Lil, stop. It's the Fists.” Lilithra halted abruptly, a few steps ahead of the guys, and gazed at the distance.

Ascalon could notice her body shrinking slightly, and could swear she was trembling. “Let’s, uhm, let’s just go this way.” She exclaimed nervously, as she pointed in the direction of a nearby crossing, which had a sign reading ‘Wellington’, planning on taking another route.

Selorien clicked his tongue, and put an arm in front of his friend to stop her. “Nah, they’re onto us. It’s that guy, the one with the sergeant.” So that’s what it was. Ascalon couldn’t quite pinpoint why that feeling was so familiar, but now he knew. It was that person who had accompanied the so-called sergeant before.

But things didn’t end there. Alongside the approaching group, Ascalon felt another presence skulking in the shadows. This one was incredibly skilled at making themselves unnoticeable, as they maintained a calculated distance and moved with precision, their footsteps as silent as if they didn’t even exist.

He took note of this interloper, but decided to focus on the group that was openly approaching them. He could feel the intent of the unknown figure, and their purpose was to observe, rather than engage—especially noticeable when going to such lengths to mask their traces. They could be left alone, for now.

Aside from the person they had seen earlier, one other man stood out from the crowd. He had unruly, green hair up to his shoulders—an unusual hair color, Ascalon thought. He also wore their distinctive Fists jacket over a naked torso, showing a well-trained body. His hands were painted red, and on his back rested a massive silver scythe.

Taking into account how easy it was to put weapons away thanks to the Gifted network, Ascalon understood that having the scythe out was meant as a display of power. It was a pretty clear message, one of warning.

“Is this the guy?” Asked the menacing individual, stepping into the light. His face showed a confident look, with a bold smile, and many metal pieces lodged into both his nose and lips. Ascalon didn’t know they were simple piercings, a fashion choice, so he thought they were also part of the ‘dangerous’ image he wanted to convey.

The stranger brushed his bangs to the side, while eyeing Ascalon intently. “Yes.” A simple answer, given by the other man. He was wearing a hooded robe, his face obscured, hidden by choice. His thin complexion gave a false sense of frailness, but Ascalon could feel he was more of a problem than the one with the scythe.

“And they found him? Ha ha ha! Oh destiny, little joker.” He seemed to know Selorien and Lilithra, judging by his words, and the latter even flinched when he spoke.

The rest of the irrelevant troupe were snickering and walking around, as if to surround them, to enjoy the show from different angles. Selorien stepped forward, with a face that looked like a mix of seriousness and anger. It was the most expressive Ascalon had seen him act since they met.

“What do you want with us, Rosco?” The man smiled at the question, whistling in amusement.

“Oh, come on, we’re old pals. Lil and I! Do I need a reason?” Lilithra looked like she wanted to run away, and Ascalon was getting annoyed by the second.

As if sensing the knight’s emotions, the girl mustered her will, and stepped forward. “We’re not pals!” She blurted, raising her clenched hand and a middle finger towards the guy, who simply laughed in response.

The pack of hyenas around him imitated his actions, while his hooded companion had slipped behind the chaos. “You break my heart, Lil. After all I did for you! After I gave you a chance, when no other Guild would!” He exclaimed, as Lilithra clenched her fists.

They seemed to have a story, one the girl didn’t want to remember. “But you just… up and left.” His mocking tone turned more serious, his expression filled with contempt. “But anyways! Believe it or not, I don’t care about that right now. My business is with him.” And he pointed towards the obvious: Ascalon.

Both Selorien and Lilithra looked at the knight, coming to understand what was going on. They wanted the wanderer, and they could think of a few reasons for that. At least, meeting with the Flaming Fists was just a coincidence, and they weren’t here for retribution—not this time, anyway.

“What do you wa–” The red-haired girl wanted to ask, but was cut short by Rosco’s cold words, and his right hand on the handle of the massive armament on his back.

“You stay quiet now, grown-ups are going to talk business.” Lilithra cowered, and stood there in defeat, angry at herself.

“Hey pal, I’ll be straight with you. We could use wanderer muscle. Join my Guild, the Flaming Fists. I promise you that whatever they offered you, I’ll double it!” He exclaimed enthusiastically, as a punchable smile appeared on his face.

He seemed to be accustomed to dealing with people by simply waving riches around, an attitude the knight didn’t like at all.

As that seemed to be his only train of thought, he seemed to think that Lilithra and Selorien had invited Ascalon into their Guild, or something along these lines.

“They did not ‘offer’ me anything.” Ascalon replied calmly. His words made the man open his eyes wide in disbelief.

The hooded man in the back simply stood by, his eyes never leaving the Knight’s figure. “Seriously? Is that Casanova pal hurting for money now? Ha ha ha!” He laughed, his entourage once again mimicking him. It was just adding to Ascalon’s annoyance, honestly.

The man eyed the knight suspiciously, as if not really believing his words. Then, he looked over at Lilithra and Selorien, and made a pensive face. “For real? No contracts, no money, nothing?” The knight simply shook his head in negation, giving the man the cold shoulder.

“Well, works for me! Just name your price. No matter the–” But before he could finish his words, Ascalon cut him short.

“I am not interested.” This made Rosco tilt his head, pondering for a second what just had happened. Was his offer rejected, before even explaining anything?

Anger took over his face, as the wanderer was taking him lightly. It was then that Lilithra decided the worst time to interject. “Hear him? Get lost!” A sudden courage filled her, as she stepped up to the man. That’s right, she had taken Ascalon under her wing, as frail and small as it was; or so she deluded herself into thinking.

Ascalon’s words showed clear conviction. He wasn’t swayed by strangers at the mere mention of money, like most people she had known. He was an honest, good man, and she wanted to keep him away from disgusting people like Rosco.

The guy simply looked at her with disgust, as if he had just stepped on manure. “I’ll handle it, so don’t interfere, please.” These words were directed towards Ascalon, and came from Lilithra’s lips.

He hesitated to agree, but ultimately, decided to respect her determination. She seemed confident, so he wanted to trust her. “Rosco, he hasn’t even been registered yet. Do you think the other Guilds will stay put if you snatch him away like this? Why not play by the rules and avoid the mess?” Lilithra said boldly, thinking she could coerce or scare the man by mentioning the other Guilds, but she was naive.

Recruiting wanderers wasn’t uncommon, on the contrary, they were highly sought. They had to be registered at the headquarters beforehand, to avoid unnecessary conflicts between Guilds.

But some people never played fair, and Rosco was one of them. He was clearly ignoring the guidelines to get an advantage over others, something he was pretty used to. “Oh Lil.” He said, face and voice aligning into smugness. “You of all people talking about rules… did you learn nothing from your parents?” Lilithra's heart sank at his words, and her complexion got visibly paler.

Rosco took the chance to grab her by the collar, and lifted her effortlessly with one hand. Ascalon readied himself, at the brink of his patience, but the view before him made him freeze in place.

Her hoodie had slipped down, revealing not only her long hair and the rest of her face, but also a pair of dark-red horns protruding from both sides of her forehead.

Images rushed through Ascalon’s mind: His last battle, his comrade’s faces, his ultimate defeat. The sight of these horns stirred his instincts. Lilithra, a demon? A demon stood before him… An enemy of mankind and all that was good.

In another time, he would’ve shown no hesitation and would’ve lunged at the wicked being… But now, something was holding him back. His mind in turmoil, conflictive thoughts clashing against each other.

“Nooo!!!” Lilithra screamed, struggling in vain and trying to hide her face.

“Don’t try and lecture me, you filthy demon bitch!” Sneered Rosco, still holding onto Lilithra’s collar. Tears began to roll down her face.

“Not when your parents were worse pieces of shit than me!” That was it. Selorien clenched his teeth in anger, immediately snapping at the man.

“Rosco!!!” At that moment, the elf materialized a pair of long, blueish daggers on each hand, and dashed at the thug in hopes of helping his friend.

But in that split second of action, the interloper skulking about, the figure Ascalon had pushed to the back of his mind, moved; and the knight was in no condition to react.

A shadowy blur blocked the path between Selorien and Rosco, and a second later her visage caught up to her speed. There stood a tall woman, with short black hair parted in two bangs, and a white headdress atop her head.

Her body was covered in a long, neat and sophisticated black maid dress, white apron and all. Her posture, with both hands in front of her, gave a refined, polite image. As a final detail, a cute crimson ribbon rested above her notable chest.

“Young master.” The figure spoke with impassiveness, a pair of cold, detached red eyes fixated on Selorien.

The elf hesitated, as sweat began to run down his forehead. “Escarlata…? Why…?” He asked in confusion. In the corner of his eye, he could see Rosco’s gloating smile.

Things weren’t looking good.