"Unforgiveable…" Winston uttered, combusting with fury after discovering our Trial tags were missing.
Just that morning, a doctor was fetched using our winnings from the tournaments to examine me. The swelling at the side of my head was dressed and bandaged before my bruised limbs were cleaned and looked at.
Nothing was broken, thankfully.
I was advised to rest and to avoid any strenuous activities. There was one problem, however.
After the doctor left, Shelly and Winston searched the entire house countless times but couldn't find our Trial tags anywhere.
"Simply… unforgiveable…!" Winston seethed when he finally accepted our tags were gone.
I silently agreed.
The consequences of not having our tags were dire. It was clear at this point how crucial one was for a Trial registrant. If either me or Winston failed due to not possessing one…
Our next opportunity wouldn't be until another two years.
…
That would set my plans…too far back…
The rest of that day was disorientating.
Throughout my intense headaches and fatigue, I remembered being helped to my feet, Shelly's voice explaining we were leaving for another location. Winston responded in the background, and though I understood—later, I'd poorly recollect his plan to visit the city guards by himself.
The jostling movement of being carried awoke me several times after that.
Every time I was dragged back into consciousness, I apologized to Winston for having to carry my dead weight on his back. He responded quietly each time, the meaning of his words never reaching me but its firmness reassuring, nevertheless.
A cool cloth touched my face, and my eyes flickered open to see Shelly beside me, patting the sweat off. The unfamiliar room we were in was quiet and dark, lit only by a candlelight by the bedside.
As she helped me sit and gave me something to drink, she informed me we were at a small inn, the only inn we could afford using the rest of our winnings.
When I questioned about the makeshift bed on the floor next to the door, Shelly stated we only had enough for a single room and bed to last us until the Trial.
"...And Winston?" I asked.
In response, Shelly stood and walked over to the window, tapping it three times. As it was pushed open, a head dropped down from above.
"Shelly?" Winston whispered hesitantly, upside down. "Is Air awake?"
Shelly stepped to the side, and Winston visibly jerked when I shuffled out of bed to greet him.
"I'm awake," I confirmed, nodding.
That night, Winston caught me up to date. Yesterday afternoon, once Shelly settled me into our lodgings, Winston visited the city guards to report the theft. At first, the guards chased him off, believing him a mischief.
They argued for several hours before the guards relented and recorded our incident. Yet, our incident was only one of many associated with the Trial. Furthermore, there wasn't much the guards could follow given our vague descriptions of the thief.
[…]
We suspected someone, however.
Winston bid us goodnight, but I stopped him before he could leave through the window and up onto the roof where he'd stayed.
"Take this," I said, handing my warm cloak over.
"Wait—no—"
"You'll chase the cold without it. If you refuse, you'll stay inside with us. At least one of us should be well."
"…Fine," he nodded, grasping it close. "Good night."
"Good night, Winston," I said, watching as Shelly closed the window after him.
"…If I may ask, Air," Shelly whispered long after extinguishing the candle and settling into her own bed.
"…Yes…?" I croaked, half-asleep.
"…Will you not tell Winston you have your tag?"
…
"…I discovered it after cleaning you down. I wrapped it back around your arm. I ask…only to remind you of the Madam's wisdom."
Observing how close we had become, one of the last words Marchioness Cassandra imparted to Winston and me was to remain steadfast and complete the Trial as we desired.
[Even if the other fails.]
…
"Don't mention a word," I quietly ordered.
"Yes, my lady."
║║║║║║║║║║
"Callous? Of course, we know Callous!" Evan and Every confirmed the next evening when we visited.
Winston and I had searched for Callous the entire day, revisiting all the places we encountered and spent time with him.
It proved unsuccessful…until we remembered him mentioning the tournaments.
"'Bout Winston's height, rusty hair, foul eyes and smile—that little troublemaker?!" Evan asked.
Close enough.
"Ahhh—crossed your path, did he? GA HA HA! He must have wronged you, judging by your faces and how bandaged up Air is!" Every guffawed.
When we didn't return the laugh, Evan nudged her with a chiding scowl.
"He's lonesome, but he's been up to no good all the years we've known him," Evan and Every concurred after listening to our account and hearing how we suspected Callous might be behind it. "He's more than capable of a spiteful theft like that."
"Did you know he was the reigning champion before you and Winston came along? Surprised, are you?! Turns out the would-be champion was in on it and surrendered whenever Callous signaled for it. We were completely fooled since Callous was so relentless in attacking and hurting the other contender!"
"Ultimately, what gave them both away was how much this contender suffered despite being superior. This contender was merciless towards others and was rarely injured. Yet, with Callous—"
"It was a SPECTACLE whenever this contender sprayed blood! It didn't help they were the prettiest anyone ever saw—the crowd LOVED whenever they yielded and SLAVERED whenever they bled without so much as crying!!"
"Pah—don't look at us like that! We're not those kinds of people!! We only allowed it because of how popular they were!! Tch—now you can't even look at us?! These rude rascals—!!"
"You don't remember going against Mere?" Every asked us, interrupting Evan. "He has the same piss-coloured eyes as Callous, is almost as tall as Air, and nimble and light? Was the best until you and Winston knocked him out the tournaments?"
"Aaaah—you might not remember because after losing against you both a few times, Mere stopped participating and Callous stopped showing. We blamed you two for the loss—so you're lucky you brought in just as much, ha ha!! PAH—didn't like that one either?! Picky runts, don't come around the next time you need swords for practice!!"
"Hm… If you're looking for Callous, try the alehouse near the western gate," Every suggested, giving us its crude name. "We've seen him there many times, and he's close to the owner."
"Be careful," they warned after we thanked them. "Callous is reckless, so if there's trouble, leave."
"We better not find your bodies floating across the Drowsy!!" Evan grinned—to which Every swatted him hard across the back.
║║║║║║║║║║
And just as Evan and Every advised—
At early dawn, we observed a silhouette limping among the shadows trudging towards the alehouse. Halfway there, they crumpled and dissolved. Then—movement again as they dragged themself towards the unlit establishment that, only an hour prior, emptied itself of all remaining drunkards.
As they slinked past the front and entered through the back, Winston and I dropped from the far rooftop we were on and followed their trail.
Passing the spot where they collapsed, we caught scent of blood and shrank our gait.
We heard shouting even before reaching the alehouse.
"—AMBUSHED?!" Callous's unmistakable anger seeped outside. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN AMBUSHED?! WHAT ABOUT SNARE?! WHERE IS HE?!!"
A brief pause. A quiet answer.
A slap sharp enough to whip our ears through the door we were cautiously approaching.
"LIES!!" Callous snarled. "Even if he was on the verge of death and saved by them, why would they leave without me?!"
Another quiet response and another slap, followed by a choked breath.
"You'll die before mentioning Father, I'll promise you that—"
Winston and I barged inside, Winston tackling Callous off the other person while I assessed their state.
They themself were on the verge of death. Wounded, and dying.
I turned their head towards me, and their eyelids flittered open, revealing our thief's soulless, yellow eyes.
This was Mere.
"OUR TAAAAGSS!!!" Winston roared from across the room, holding down and shaking the petrified Callous. "TELL US WHERE THEY ARE OR I'LL SMASH YOUR TEETH!!! INTO YOUR HEAD!!!"
Callous paled and flushed all at the same time, speechless, caught by shock and surprise.
"Unnecessary noise," a cool, unbothered voice uttered, and my eyes widened when I realized there was another person standing in the room.
How…?
When entering the room, there'd only been Callous strangling Mere. And though the room was barely lit, it'd been glaringly empty except for some few barrels with jugs and cups lining the shelves. There'd been nowhere for a person to stand unnoticed. Or enter unnoticed…?
The owner of the alehouse whom Winston and I had observed earlier the previous evening stared at all of us, unimpressed.
"…help…" Callous finally spoke, struggling against Winston as he swiveled his head towards the owner. "H-help me…!"
"Apologies, young master. But we've received strict orders to refuse your requests at this time," the owner said, fluidly tracing their hand against the wall by them to grasp something.
Confusion twisted Callous's expression until the owner declared the words: "The Selectum Evocation has been initiated by the Successor."
[?]
Anguish struck Callous, and the resistance within him collapsed as the owner jerked down on a hidden lever.
The floorboards under our feet rumbled, and Winston and I lunged for the backdoor as the sounds of chains creaked from underneath.
We were too late, however.
The floor dropped, and the four of us fell into darkness, falling and falling until the roar of rushing water warned us of what was to come.
I hit the water feet first, and the current yanked me, trying to wrangle the air out of me. Fighting for several heart-bursting minutes, my head finally popped above the surface, and I gulped mouthfuls of water as I tried to keep afloat.
I had long lost sight of Winston and the others and could only hope the waters wouldn't drown Winston or me.
We were traveling fast underneath the capital, but where exactly were these currents taking us?
║║║║║║║║║║
"…never…wished…for this…" Callous gasped as he laid curled in the mud, protecting the place where a chunk of wooden debris pierced him during the perilous journey.
I stared at the orange sky, huffing and shivering beside Callous as my head and ear threatened to implode.
"…good…as...dead…" he slurred, blood spilling out his mouth. "…It's...all…wrong…"