Chapter 1 Rudbeckia Part 1

The sun was beginning to cast its last brushstrokes across the sky of a small village, while the afternoon bustle grew increasingly subdued.

Light shadows peeked across most of the houses, and a faint mist escaped from the windows, filling the streets with the subtle aroma of stew.

The few people still working the fields were beginning to leave.

In the meadows, two children who looked to be about eight or nine years old were playing and laughing. They seemed to have run away from home for a moment, as no other child in the village appeared to be out.

It only took a moment to observe them to know that their relationship was not ordinary. The warmth of their voices, their knowing gestures, and the glances that spoke volumes without words revealed a bond as deep as blood, even though this did not unite them.

Such a bond could only be explained as a whim of the capricious gods…

“We must go, Hilde.”

“Hmm… No! I don't want to! I want to play a little longer, Johan.”

“We can't, remember the ceremony starts tomorrow.”

“I know, that's why I'm saying it…”

“Look, the sky is already red.”

“Beautiful… I want to paint…”

“When you draw, you seem bewitched, you forget everything,” Johan said with a slight smile, watching Hilde gaze at the sky.

“… What?”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha. Nothing.”

“Hmm… What's with that laugh?”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha. It's nothing.”

“Hmph! You're laughing at me,” Hilde said angry, puffing out her cheeks, crossing her arms, and turning away.

“No, seriously, I wasn't making fun of you, I just… I don't know… I'm sorry…”

Johan seemed quite nervous at the thought of the little girl being angry with him.

“Pfff… Pffff… Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.”

“What?”

“Ha, ha, ha. Your face.”

“My face?”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.”

“… He, he… he, he, he. So I'm funny?”

“Huh? No… uh… I'm… sorry?” Hilde's words came out as a knowing smile spread across her face.

“He, he, he, he. Time for punishment” Johan said, slowly walking toward Hilde with his hands outstretched and his fingers moving strangely.

“No! Wait! I'm really sorry!” Hilde pleaded, slowly backing away.

“Here!”

“Nooo!”

Suddenly, Johan quickened his pace. Seeing this, Hilde tried to turn around and run. However, Johan's hands were quicker and grabbed Hilde's cheeks.

“Oof! I'm sorry, Johan…” Hilde apologized as he gently squeezed and stretched her cheeks.

“Good! The wicked demon girl has been punished.”

“Hmph! It's not 'demon,' it's 'daimon,' old Cohen told us,” Hilde retorted, rubbing her cheeks.

“Right, I forgot… The old man always says interesting things!”

“Yes! His stories are very funny.”

“Someday we'll leave the village and go to many places like him!”

“Will you take me with you, Johan?”

“Of course! We'll be adventurers, or maybe we'll join a traveling circus, like the foreigners who stay on the outskirts of the village.”

“Great!”

“Let's go! It's getting late!” Remember what the grown-ups say: “When the sun sets, the gods sleep.” Johan took Hilde’s hand, and they began walking back to the village.

At the top of a small hill, a young maple tree stood alone. Erect and proud, it was touched by the gentle caresses of the summer breeze, which stirred its beautiful scarlet leaves, as if showing off, with the kind of recklessness only children as muster.

Beneath the thin, faint shadow cast by the young tree—which seemed to be bidding farewell with the last glimmer of the sun—lay a twelve-year-old boy. His skin was rough—a sign of rigorous training—and his reddish-brown hair resembled a solitary flame in the cold darkness. He looked slightly dirty, perhaps from not having bathed in a few days. The light wool shirt he wore was slightly open, revealing his neck—where a necklace with a small, strangely wooden artifact hung—and a little below it, where timid, fine scars peeked out. Signs that a discerning, trained, and sharp eye could recognize as evidence of early training in the arts of combat. And although some traces of childhood charm seemed to remain, his subtly frowning, distant, and faintly indifferent expression buried it. But above all these things (which are quite common, or at least not so unusual—especially in times of overflowing fury, instability, and uncertainty—), what stood out most about that young man were his eyes. Eyes of an intense, pure, and translucent emerald. So densely green that they resembled two beautiful magical stones. Those gems that, it was said, were the legacy of an ancient civilization and that only the greatest artisans, dwarves, elves, or daemons, could work. So precious, so valuable, that even the high nobility fought to obtain them, or so it was said.

Undoubtedly, fascinating eyes that anyone would admire, if it weren't for those thin, vertical pupils… responsible for an unconscious unease in all who gazed upon them.

Those beautiful and ominous eyes watched two small shadows disappear from the meadows toward the village…

“Ryo!” A huge, robust man who looked to be around forty, with a cheerful expression that bore the marks of time, called to him. “What are you doing here? You skipped rehearsal.”

“…! Tsk. I couldn't sense you.”

“Heh, heh, heh, heh. Don't rush things, kid, you're still learning.”

“You didn't answer anyway. Why did you skip rehearsal?”

“It doesn't matter, does it? We're not performing in this little village anyway; it's too poor.”

“Perhaps you're right, but we have to keep up appearances.” As Benedek spoke with Ryo, he watched the direction of his gaze and saw two tiny shadows, growing fainter and fainter, drawing closer and closer to the village.

“It's almost dinnertime. Let's go back to the tent. Don't forget the blindfold.”

“I know.”

Following Benedek's instructions, Ryo stood up, took the piece of cloth from his pocket, and blindfolded himself. The fabric, though extremely thin, would blur anyone's vision, but it didn't seem to affect Ryo much. They walked toward the pavilion: a large but simple conical tent that stood on one side of the village.

With each step they got closer to the village, the fragrance that filled the air at this time of day became more pronounced.

A growl, improper in the tranquility of the landscape, broke through the echo of Ryo and Benedek's footsteps.

“Damn… I'm starving…”

“You're always hungry, Benedek.”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha. You should eat more too, you're too skinny.” Benedek seemed worried as he squeezed Ryo's arm, who quickly pulled away.

“I'm fine, you're the one who eats too much…” Ryo said, looking at Benedek's prominent belly, which clashed with the impressive strength his appearance conveyed.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha. You're repeating what Velk and Lys said.”

“No. Mother's the one who always says that.”

“Ha, ha, ha. The boss is tough… Hm?… That's right! She ordered me to gather some herbs with the alchemist after she looked for you.”

“… That's why she's always angry.”

The small village they were entering greeted them with the characteristic stillness that this time of day offered.

They barely heard the echoes of birds flying overhead, singing their final melodies. The footsteps and small conversations of the last villagers returning to their homes of fiery oak and thatched roofs, draped with forest grass, and the creaking of the artisans' few tents as they were pulled up.

Greeting the few locals they encountered, they continued walking toward the alchemist's house.

Upon reaching a house, slightly different from the others—perhaps because of the weeds sprouting from the walls, the small garden with strange flowers and plants to one side, or the wood that seemed less worn—they stopped. Benedek knocked on the door.

They waited, but not a sound escaped from the house.

“Hmm… Isn't he here?” Benedek asked, no one in particular.

“Who knows? I've never seen him out of his house this late,” Ryo said, knocking on the door again. This time he heard a warm, somewhat weary voice, common in older people.

“I'm coming, I'm coming.”

A few seconds later, the door moved, revealing the figure of a sixty-year-old man, dressed in white wool and gray leather—clothing that had undoubtedly seen better days—. Over these garments, he wore a long, navy-blue tunic, so worn it looked as if he had never taken it off. His silhouette had the appearance one would imagine of a scholarly obsessive. A shapeless beard, deep dark circles under his eyes—the marks of countless sleepless nights—and short but disheveled hair, where white was increasingly overcoming the now much-faded brown. Incredibly, despite this appearance, he exuded a sense of physical solidity.

“What is it? Oh, young Benedek! What brings you here?”

“Ha, ha, ha. Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Cohen, and please excuse me for disturbing you at this hour, but Elena asked me to gather the herbs she requested for you.”

“No. It’s not a compliment. To someone like me, you’re still young. And I must add, I’m still surprised by your good manners,” Cohen remarked, a subtle smile appearing on his face as quickly as it vanished.

“Ha, ha, ha. After all, we do present ourselves to the nobility occasionally.”

“I see… Oh, young Ryo! Excuse me, I didn’t see you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you… Right, young Elena’s herbs. Wait a moment, I’ll get them.” Seconds after entering his house, he emerged with a bag in hand.

“Here you are.”

“Thank you!!” Benedek and Ryo said their goodbyes in unison.

Returning to the pavilion, the sun had bid them farewell. Now, they were escorted by two elegant waning moons—which seemed to form the silhouette of eyes about to rest—floating solemnly alongside hundreds of faint lights, their faithful companions in the endless darkness.

They reached the pavilion and prepared to enter, listening to voices within.

“…ceremony… days.”—Male voice.

“…that…better…in…day.”—Female voice.

“…what… Astray?”—Female voice.

“…that the sooner, the better.”—Male voice.

They entered.

“We're here, boss,” Benedek greeted her, handing her the bag he was carrying.

She, a woman in her mid-thirties, with a thick mane of red hair, fierce eyes, and a brave smile.

“Good. Sit down, it's time for dinner.” Ever since Ryo entered the pavilion, Elena hadn't stopped staring at him…

“I'm starving!”

“Your food storage capacity never ceases to amaze me,” a man with extremely light-brown hair, loose to his shoulders and covering his ears, and very pale skin, spoke to Benedek.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha. A body like this needs a different kind of consumption, Velk.”

Benedek sat down on the floor—which was mostly covered with worn hides—next to Velk, who was sitting to Elena's right.

Ryo remained standing, looking into Elena's piercing, clear, and beautiful blue eyes.

“The strange one here is Astray. With his average build, he consumes almost as much as Benedek,” a slender young woman in her early twenties, with a cheerful expression, short apricot-colored hair, cat ears sticking out from her head, and a tail of the same color trailing behind her, spoke.

“Hey! What do I have to do with this, Lys?”

The man who had just spoken to the cat girl—who was sitting to Elena's left—with short hazelnut hair, a nonchalant look, and a tired smile, seemed to be in his late twenties. The most striking thing about him were the three earrings he wore on the top of each ear.

Ryo lowered his gaze; Elena continued watching him.

“I wonder where everything you eat goes, Astray. I know where Benedek's food goes.” Lys quickly shifted her gaze from Astray to Benedek's stomach.

“Everyone has their secrets, and mine is one of nature's great enigmas,” Astray remarked.

“Ha, ha, ha. The art of cooking is one of the great signs of culture.”

“It's true that the level of sophistication in a cuisine can tell us a lot about a people. Even so, I think your statement is a bit of an exaggeration, Benedek.”

“Do you think so, Velk? I think he has a point. Only a sufficiently developed people can create their own cuisine.”

“Yes, but a single person rarely produces enough variety in foods and techniques to create high-quality cooking. The flourishing of today’s cuisines is the sum of the ingenuity of many peoples, Astray.”

Ryo kept his gaze lowered and began to sweat. Elena continued to watch him.

“I agree with Velk. If a people’s cuisine is ‘prosperous’ but only through imitation, it isn’t a truly flourishing people.”

“It’s true that most current cuisines seem to be the sum of others, Lys. But that’s where a great culture shines. It absorbs the others, prevails, and flourishes, while the others simply perish.”

“But when two equally noble cuisines clash, they destroy each other.”

“Or something entirely new is born, Velk.”

“But not necessarily noble.”

Ryo continued to sweat and began to tremble slightly. Elena continued to watch him.

“Even so, food is something every species needs in one way or another, so it's normal that they prosper. I don't think that demonstrates the nobility of a people,” Lys interjected.

“Mastery of the magical, alchemical, or blacksmithing arts is a better indicator of a people's prosperity.”

“Oh! Your daimon side always comes out, Velk.”

“Tsk.”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha. I just mentioned something I heard somewhere,” Benedek interrupted.

“…”

“…”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha.” Astray was amused.

“Anyway, what does it matter? Food has only one purpose: to be enjoyed, and these sandwiches are ready for that purpose.” After ending their pointless conversation, Benedek prepared to eat a sandwich with meat—slow-cooked using a rustic technique, but enough to make it juicy, tender, and smoky—and creamy goat cheese spread on top—adding an intense flavor with light citrus notes—. Topped with sautéed vegetables, all wrapped in stale rye bread.

However… before Benedek's hand could reach the tray in front of him, laden with these sandwiches, Elena bumped her knee and immediately stopped dead in her tracks.

The change in mood caused by the faint sound was as abrupt as it was disconcerting.

Everyone stood still, as if time itself had stopped.

“Anything to say, Ryo?” Elena asked.

“… I'm sorry I missed rehearsals.”

The small smile on Elena's face widened.

“Great! Let's have dinner.”

With this simple declaration from Elena, time unfroze and spirits lifted.

“Don't bother Ryo so much, Elena, he's just a child.” Lys stood up, hugged Ryo, and stroked his head.

Ryo seemed to blush slightly.

“You spoil him rotten, Lys.”

“Hmph!” Lys gently released him and returned to her seat.

Ryo walked over, removed his blindfold, and settled down in front of Elena, completing the circle they had naturally formed around a small vermilion flame that danced languidly in the air.

They all began to enjoy the small treats while chatting casually and pleasantly about nothing in particular…

“We'll do it in two days,” Elena announced suddenly, her tone more serious and lacking her usual smile.

“It’s the day of the ceremony,” Velk replied.

“Yes. As everyone knows, the villagers have only told us that this ‘ceremony’ of theirs takes place deep in the forest, and only the ‘initiates’ and a few companions go in, while the rest stay behind to prepare a feast. With all these distractions, it will be easier to act.”

“Understood, Chief.”

“It’s true that this ‘ritual,’ or whatever it is, is a great distraction, but also a great risk. If by chance or accident they find out what we’re doing during the ceremony, it will be difficult to get out without bloodshed.”

“Tomorrow I’ll speak with the local leader to tell him we’ll leave the next day.”

“So it will be a hit-and-run operation,” Velk interjected.

“I don’t know if she chose a good or bad place to hide.”

“Considering how hard it was for us to find this village, I’d say it’s a good place, Lys,” Velk replied.

“Yes, but why is he staying in this village? Something doesn't feel right… it's like he's waiting for something… or someone…”

“Perhaps you feel that way because he's a fellow worker, or rather, a superior.”

“It's strange that he stopped in this village instead of continuing on to his country when it's not that far from here,” Lys replied.

“Perhaps this village is the drop-off point?” Astray questioned.

“Benedek, did you notice or sense anything strange about him when you were gathering the herbs?”

“Hmm… I couldn't say for sure. I don't think he knows who we are, but I do think he suspects something.”

“And you, Ryo?”

“I agree, there's something strange about him.”

“…” Elena remained lost in thought, while the others waited.

“The sooner we act, the better. Lys, Astray.”

“Yes!!”

“You two will come with me, Benedek. You'll stay in town watching our backs.”

“Yes!”

“Velk, Ryo, you'll stay behind to guard the perimeter while you pack up so we can leave right away.”

“Yes!”

“…” Elena quickly realized Ryo seemed annoyed.

“Is there a problem, Ryo?”

“…” Ryo seemed to be struggling to say something. “I want to come with you.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“This operation is very complicated.”

“Am I not good enough?”

“Your training is going well. You've already participated in a couple of operations. But you're not ready for a task like this yet.”

Ryo lowered his head and clenched his fists. To him, Elena's words sounded as cold as they were devastating. Even though he knew it was the truth, he wished it weren't so. And what bothered him even more was that, even knowing this, he couldn't accept it.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha.” “Don't worry, kid, you'll have your chance to shine,” Benedek said, ruffling his hair.

“Leave him alone, Benedek. Only the boss and I can hold Ryo's head.” Lys hugged Ryo, pushing Benedek's hand away.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.”

“Ahhh… Joseph owes us a proper feast after this.”

“I agree.”

“Good. Let's get some rest.”

Elena announced as dinner was over, and the flame that had danced above them died down.