A Second Start

‘It cannot be helped.’ Idalec walked around his room collecting anything of value. ‘I doubt anybody would miss me here.’ Idalec continued to think as he sat down at his desk to write a short letter to his family on a postcard:

Dear Mother and Father,
I hope this finds you well.
I’m writing to say that I am leaving Roux Academy of Magic.
By the time this reaches you, I will be on my way home.
So don't worry about your dear son.
Things h-

Idalec paused writing, leaving a small smudge on the paper. ‘I’ll tell them everything when I get home. Roux Academy is just-’ Idalec yawned as he glanced around his disappointing dorm room. It had only been three weeks here, and Idalec was already growing tired. ‘I’ll be better off studying on my own.’ Idalec idly tapped his pen on the page,

Sincerely,
Your beloved son, Idalec Yeve.

"Good enough," Idalec muttered in a distant tone as he grabbed his packed suitcase and simply left, not so much as looking back at Roux Academy as he marched out into the town of Roux.

Fleeing gave Idalec a bitter taste in his mouth, a disgust which would probably haunt him for as long as he lived. ‘Should I have faced my crimes right then and there sixteen years ago instead of fleeing like a coward with Revrho to this new world?’

The pleasant smell of fresh bread made Idalec smile momentarily as he walked towards the post office. ‘ACK!’ Idalec dropped his smile as a foul smell of manure suddenly replaced the fresh bread when the wind started blowing into Idalec’s face. ‘Why does this sort of fate keep following me around?’

Ducking into the post office, Idalec paid a handful of copper coins to get his postcard delivered to his family before he set off again through town, the sun high in the sky.

For these past sixteen years, Idalec- or more accurately, Vazove- 's past kept biting at him; a constant fear nibbled at his heels. It was also sixteen years ago that Idalec declared that he would try to do good by helping people.

"... don't! What's so hard?" a woman ahead was telling off a strangely dressed guy who was cowering next to her and throwing glances across the street.

Idalec took a lazy glance to see what was causing these two so much trouble. The sign across the street read that it was a slave market. 'Is this my chance to do good?' Idalec thought as he got butterflies in his stomach.

“... we don’t have the money to sp…”

"Hello, fine lady and gentlemen," Idalec said, giving the two a bow that was once reserved solely for the Caesar.

The woman and man turned their attention to him. “Hello,” the lady said in a level tone, giving Idalec a curtsy. “What is your name?”

“Idalec. And yourself?” Idalec straightened up, looking at the woman; she looked graceful, with shoulder-length dirty blond hair and a kind expression. 'Nobility by chance?' Idalec wondered about that manner of speech, the looks, and the outfit: a white and orange shirt and shin-length dress, a grey messenger bag slung across her body, and an eye-catching indigo necktie.

"My name is Prix, and this is Sato," the woman said, pointing first at herself, then at the man,

“Good to meet you.” Idalec said with a nod, “Do you need a guide, perhaps? I have been to a few slave yards before.” Idalec offered, moving a hand from his heart out to them, half-lying,

“I’m sorry, honey-” Prix started politely before Sato, having manned up, spoke up.

“I'll be in your care, Idalec!” Sato cupped Idalec’s outstretched hand.

“Come along,” Idalec said confidently, whisking Sato, Prix in tow, across the street to the slave yard. Idalec’s heart raced. ‘I’m glad to help someone in need!’ Idalec threw a glance back at Sato. His hair looked like a complete bird's nest, yet it looked clean.

"I... I-I've never been here..." Sato faltered as he glanced back at Prix, nose turned up, following them.

"Ahh, Sato, do not worry about it." Idalec took the lead, walking into the lobby. "It is fine to just look about," Idalec added, loud enough for Prix to also hear.

The lobby of the market was the front-facing part of the slave market. It looked like a living room, with five men presently sitting. Some of them were standing, talking in private conversation; some were sitting on one of the many couches set up in the room. There was a wrap-around balcony housing offices on the second floor.

“Oh.” Slipped out from a disappointed Sato as Idalec let go of his hand to walk over to the bulletin board,

“Why the disappointment?” Idalec asked, looking over at Sato as he got to the desk right next to the bulletin board.

"I... I sort of expected there to be a bunch of slaves everywhere." Sato whispered to Idalec in a barely audible voice,

"This isn't the red light district, my friend." Idalec joked, turning his back to Sato just as Prix, smiling angrily, stood right beside Sato.

“Sato, have you been satisfied? We should go.” Prix said pointedly to Sato.

‘Looks like all of them are friendly.’ Idalec guessed, turning to look at the room again. "Hello, do you mind if the three of us sit down here?" Sato asked as he walked by a cleanly shaved man in his early thirties who was sitting alone on a couch.

“Hello, sir.” The man straightened up in his seat to look professional. “It would be my pleasure if you joined me,” the man agreed with a courteous nod.

Idalec sat down, rubbing his eyes, before waving to Prix and Sato to join him. "Prix! Sato! If you still need help, please sit down." Idalec called back to them again with a thin smile.

Prix and Sato stopped arguing, walking over to Sato with a giddy stumble which exaggerated Prix’s graceful way of walking.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. Francis," the man said, shaking hands with Sato, Prix, and finally Idalec, whom he gave a small smile,

“Idalec Yeve.” Idalec nodded,

“Are you related to Simon Yeve by chance?”

“He’s my father.”

"I see, I see," Francis said cheerfully with a nod. Sato and Prix sat quietly, looking between Idalec and Francis, one with anticipation, and the other with thinly veiled disgust.