Walls of Cacela

"Lucian."

A tall lady was calling him. His heart raced at her sight but her face was unrecognizable, like a watercolor painting someone was trying to wipe away with their hand.

Distracting lights flew past and around him. The brightness seared his eyes. Then a sudden darkness.

"Swear this to me and I will grant you new life."

A different voice. A different shape. Not alarming but assertive.

"Just stay with me, please."

Her, he could never forget. The heat was still fresh on his mind. As was the heartbreak.

"LUCIAN!"

His eyes kicked open. The tears hurt. Wildly blinking, he rose from his bed.

Barion noticed. He knew of his nightmares and lowered his voice. "C'mon lad, your legs will rot if you sleep too much." Without further elaboration he left. None was needed anyway.

It’s been three years since the Raid on the Garden failed. Three years he spent with that vile excuse for a swordsman. Who burned his home, forsook his ally, and kidnapped him.

Lucian grabbed his pendant before opening the door to greet the sunshine. He looked where Barion had left toward. Even if he lost him, he'd have no issues echolocating him, despite with how bustling the streets were. Spotting his long, unkempt mat through the crowd, he followed at a distance.

Lucian had made it a game to look everyone he passed in the eyes. His gaze was either averted or met with contempt. His name had become infamous here between the crumbling pile of rocks this place called the Great Wall of Cacela.

"Hey Lucian, buddy." He knew what was about to be said.

"I'm busy Flynn, Barion summoned me. Go bother someone else."

He didn't even glance at the poor sap. If someone was friendly, their intentions were clear. It was either by accident, a traveller who wasn't in the know, or someone looking to make a profit by betting on him.

Ninety percent of the time, it would be the latter.

Ahead, Barion turned a corner. His destination unmistakable.

"Wavebreakers? He's got some nerve dragging me there."

His mood soured. He wasn't on good terms with them. They are a conglomerate of soldiers, adventurers, hunters, and anyone they could find in between. Some were too brave for their own good. Others too crazed to be put to meaningful use. But regardless of who they are, every Wavebreaker had one trait in common: their love for monster subjugation.

Lucian entered the almost empty tavern. He looked at one of the guys cleaning, and he beckoned him upstairs to the meeting room with a nod of the head.

Barion was already waiting, together with a few other intimidating figures.

"That's him?" one of them inquired.

"Aye, that's me lad. I'm telling you, he's the one for a job like this."

Lucian gave him the stink eye. Barion knew he hated it when he introduced him as his son or his lad. But he didn't care. Sometimes he'd do it just to get under his skin or for personal amusement.

The man sized him up. His armor was shining almost as much as the blonde hair that was flattened by the regular wear of a helmet, and while his face read battle-hardened, his stiff right spoke retired.

"He doesn't look the part, but if you vouch for him, there's no discussion to be had here."

Although he was a young adult by now, the man towered over Lucian.

"My men call me Castellan Hale. You will refer to me as such."

"You're the Castellan of the Bordertowns?"

Lucian threw Barion a deathly stare, redirecting it to Hale once he saw his discomfort get through.

He was shaking in anger.

"This better be some business deep in the wildlands or you might just walk out with your left side limp as well."

Hale stood with a grave stare. He was intrigued. "You're the boy from the reports. The lunatic who keeps venturing out alone."

He inspected him, more discerningly this time. You couldn't read his thoughts, but you could tell by the little twitches in his lids that he was getting a good picture of who Lucian was.

He laughed. This angered Lucian even more.

"I like your boy, Barion," he shouted over his shoulder, not breaking eye contact.

"It's not what you're hoping for, but if you're as lucky as my men say you are, then it just might be. Sit, I'll fill you in on the details."

Lucian was tilting his jug back and forth. He had been sulking so long the tavern had come to life in the meantime. Hale's proposal lay heavy on his mind, muting the loud patrons around him.

"Stupid Castellan... why only now."

An arm wrapped around him as a chair scraped against the floor.

"Lucian! Buddy! Merry today, isn’t it? Must be the traders that arrived earlier."

"I'm not going. Leave me alone, I’m busy."

But Flynn was the type of fly that would dodge every attempt on its life and get stuck on the very window you opened as a peaceful solution.

"I get it, I totally do. I'm also busy. We're like, really similar."

"Someone drag him off before he starts, please," Lucian thought to himself. Knowing his wish would be denied.

"Remember that hot chick from the Capital?"

"The merchant girl that bled you dry? The one you cried over, and that made you swear you'd never mingle with one ever again? That one?"

Flynn gave him a strained look. "Doesn't sound like me, but yes, that one. I heard a caravan is coming from Silere. I'm sure she's with them, longing to meet me again."

Flynn paused, waiting for a reaction that wasn’t coming. "Hehem... so seeing as I'm your only friend here, how about you help a brother out?"

"I'm not going!"

A few folks lit up around them. Flynn just waved anxiously and put his face on the table to get a better look at the sulking Lucian.

"Just two days. No one is enough. Please, this is a matter of life and death!"

Ever since he was brought to Cacela by the raiding party, Lucian had tried leaving. He took any opportunity to head back into the Wildlands in hopes of reaching the Garden. In hopes of finding Lilly.

At first the guards and townsfolk tried their best to stop him, afraid of losing another child to the monsters lurking beyond the wall. But when he came back every time, sometimes weeks later and often on death’s door. The people of Cacela just accepted it and let him be.

Instead of stopping him, some began betting on the ifs, whens, and hows of his return. Many won fortunes, others lost them.

This was one of the reasons the locals began despising him, with Flynn being the only one who understood that being on Lucian’s good side was an easy way to rig the odds.

"I'll think about it." Lucian chugged the remnants of his drink and headed for the door.

Murmurs slithered through the crowd when a stranger got up. "Oi, don't leave alone! It's dark out, the Hookshades will get you!"

He looked around, and with disgust realized no one was going to stop him.

"Leave him," another guest shouted. "You should be more worried about the Hookshades."