The Outer Region of Polskin.
The smell of sewage refuse filled the air, damp and sticky, as if you had just stepped into an dirty, polluted alley. The city was not kind to strangers, crimes were commonplace and degenerates practically ran the place. Politicians, as they like to call themselves, were merely gangsters with a semblance of order.
Delor Bar stood in an alleyway, made to be built as a church except the people decided they were not religious to anything except alcohol. The place looked dignified on the outside with rose stained glass but the inside is anything but.
People came to the bar for a little peace and quiet, granted doing illegal things, but chaos was not a thing here. The person who owned this place had been an exiled noble from some kingdom that vanished from the face of Eos.
The place was bustling, a man played music in a desolate corner with a female singer whose voice sounded drunk but melodious. Cigarettes strewn on the floor while the smell mixed with alcohol and aphrodisiacs.
Nothing to see here, this was normal.
But today was a bit different. When a noble, who called himself Kapfem, arrived in a carriage. A girl sat in the attic, whose only window provided a blurry view of the dim street. She paused and turned her back.
"Where is the girl?" the noble asked.
One of the staff carrying a bottle of alcohol bowed politely and said, "She is upstairs counting the dirua."
A smirk played on his lips, the slight greed in his eyes hidden as he turned away. "Alright."
The stairs were creaky and he could never be bothered to replace them. Investing in a backward city like Polskin did not seem worth it. Profits were the only thing in mind.
He reached the attic, which smelled of parchment and linen, a contrast from the intoxicating smell downstairs. The door had already been slightly opened. With a light knock, he pushed open the door and saw the girl counting money on a small desk next to a poorly made bed.
"You've spent the day counting dirua?"
The girl did not look up but replied, "It never stops coming. What have you come here for, my lord?"
Her tone lacked respect, but the man did not seem to mind and ignored it. He sat on a chair next to the door and crossed his legs.
"I will fulfill Hyrel's wish."
The girl's hands stopped as she looked up at him. In the reflection of the lamp, her brown eyes showed a sliver of hope.
"What made you change your mind?"
"I did not change my mind. I still have no intention of granting your wish. But circumstances have changed and I have no other choice."
The girl looked down and continued counting the dirua.
"So it's not because of pity but blackmail. Is it because of his will?"
The man clenched his fist slightly, the grip on his hat tightening ever so slight. He held himself back as he swallowed and asked, "So you are aware of the will?"
The girl tilted her head. "I have spent five years in this place, doing your bidding without much complaint. My solace had been in books, which your grandson had brought to me every single day.
I was confused when you let him do as he pleased, knowing how much you hated me. But I know how much you adored your grandson. And I endured the harsher punishments. Now that he's dead-"
"Shut your mouth!" he yelled.
The girl did not flinch nor did she stop counting the dirua. "So his will did manifest."
A manifestation of a will happens when a person with rich vitalis could manifest their essence as a form of contract that would bind itself to the intended recipient after death.
An iron will, so to speak.
"My grandson's will is not for you to mention."
"I remember you told me that if I had brought profits exceeding the million mark you would allow me to walk free."
The noble closed his eyes, agitated by the sight of the little girl. Despite her youth, she stood no taller than him, reaching up to his neck. The scars on her arms were evident of abuse and her build suggested that she looked as fragile like glass.
No matter how much he wanted to strangle her to death, he could not. He was simply powerless to do so. Not unless he wanted to cripple himself, like she had with the others.
It was not as if he did not wonder why she stayed. Sure enough his hunch about dirua was correct. She really did have a knack for fortune.
"I will let you go. You will be free to walk away from this city unharmed. But if I ever see you again around here, I will not hesitate to kill you."
The girl finished counting the dirua and pushed them away from the table. Standing up, she turned away from him and walked towards the window.
"Kill me if you can, but right now you cannot. What makes you think you can when I come back?"
Her words ignited a flame in him. The man kicked the table away, knocking the dirua over, spilling all over the floor. He turned to leave and slammed the door behind him.
Meanwhile, the girl smiled. 'A little more and I can finally be free.'
Time had passed by in a dull manner. There were hardly any changes to the boring routine she had committed herself to for the past few years.
When the noble arrived with the parchment that held her fate in his hands and tore it up right in front of her, she did not hesitate to take the money she had hidden and promptly left the place.
The staff, who treated her no better than the noble did, only nodded at her as she made her way downstairs and out the door.
"Pisky, remember to guard the place for me," the girl said as she bid goodbye. Pisky was an orphan girl hired as a bookkeeper in the bar. She had no education but turned out to be great at numbers.
She was older than her by 8 years and took care of her better than most. Pisky nodded with tears in her eyes. But protocol made sure that none of them were allowed to speak to her.
A simple nod was the best they could do as she walked out of that place without a second glance.
She forgot the feeling of the wind in her face and how soft the ground beneath her felt. The girl only glanced back once she walked out of the city, escorted by the guards that had watched her since her imprisonment.
Once they were gone, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Whatever she chose to do right now, there was no longer anyone else that would keep track of her every movement. The sun was about to set, and she could only think that maybe Kapfem did it on purpose so that she would have no choice but to stay the night in the city.
Unlucky for him, she had been dreaming about this day since she was imprisoned. A walk through the cold forest would set her off the arrive in a village not far from the region's border.
As long as she can make it out of the region alive, her chances of surviving would increase exponentially.
Who cared about whether or not she had never ventured out beyond the city? Anywhere was better than here.
With her back to the city and a few feet away from the forest, she thought about whether her body could keep up with the toll of surviving in the woods, if she even could.
But... she knew it was no use worrying. She'll just have to push through with grit and willpower. Dying outside is better than dying in that dingy bar that no amount of cleaning could ever wash off the filth.