The train station was crowded, just like yesterday. But unlike before, the crowds that had arrived with excitement were now trying to leave just as quickly.
Once the train finally started moving and the noise of the station faded behind them, Arsh was finally able to focus in silence and see if he could find Ezra again.
He was definitely alive, and he didn't seem to be somewhere dangerous. However, he still wasn't using his siuni. Arsh tried to convince himself that maybe Ezra simply was somewhere safe now and no longer saw any reason to stay on guard, but deep down, he knew Ezra wouldn't let his guard down that easily.
When he got off the train, he found himself in a city that was still fairly large, though much less crowded than Tirsit. The distance between the train station and Ezra's location didn't seem too far. The golden threads led him along the river that split Hals in two.
As he got closer to the sea, a bridge appeared ahead. Ezra was somewhere right around here. When he got closer to the bridge, he noticed the golden threads leading beneath it. Leaning over to look, he saw a couple of homeless man and makeshift shacks.
Arsh tried to figure out what Ezra was doing here. He walked down under the bridge, following the golden threads toward a shack just wide enough for a single person to fit inside. Its only purpose seemed to be blocking the wind and rain. The front was covered by a curtain.
Even though it was still daylight, the fishermen and homeless people had gathered around a fire, drinking and talking loudly. As Arsh walked past them, one of the drunk men suddenly grabbed him by the wrist.
"Hey... where do you think you're going?" the man said. Despite the smell of alcohol, he seemed a bit more sober than the others. He looked Arsh's clothes up and down suspiciously, then stared at his face again.
"This place isn't for kids like you. Did you run away from home or something?"
"I'm looking for a friend. I heard he was last seen around here. I just wanted to check," Arsh said.
"Your friend..." The man let go of Arsh's wrist. "Describe what this friend looks like."
'Good question,' Arsh thought.
"Blond hair, blue eyes, pale skin..."
"Hmm, there are a lot of people who look like that..."
"Yes, but... you could say he's quite handsome. Really handsome. Maybe you've seen him around." Arsh knew the man had definitely seen him but was just beating around the bush.
"Ahem... blond hair, pale skin... a handsome guy. Actually, I saw a man like that near the main street on the day of the festival. But he looked injured. He was wandering through the back alleys. He caught my attention because he was handsome... and also because of the blood dripping from his arm. Who knows what happened to him. I wonder if we're talking about the same person."
"He was injured?!" Arsh suddenly raised his voice, causing the man and the other homeless people to turn and look at him.
He already knew something was wrong. Ezra probably wasn't choosing not to use his siuni—he simply couldn't. That was the reason. But he was alive, and for now, that was all that mattered. Arsh was sure Professor Reiner would heal him.
Meanwhile, the man was carefully at looking Arsh's face. He was trying to judge if this boy was responsible for the youn men's injuries, and it seemed he found the answer he was looking for.
"Take my hand," he told Arsh. "Help me up."
Arsh did as he was told and helped the man stand.
"Come with me."
They walked toward the makeshift shack a little further away. Arsh quietly followed. He already know that Ezra was there.
"We found him near the main street on the night of the festival, inside an abandoned house. We used to stay there sometimes. But someone bought the place now and they're going to demolish it, so guards come at night to clear out the homeless. That night, I went there to grab some stuff I had hidden, and I found your friend unconscious. There's an old doctor here. He served in the war, but he was discharged after losing his arm. Now he's homeless like us. We found him and brought him here. He took care of his wounds on his shoulder and back... But he said, there's something like poison in his body. He couldn't figure out what it was. We couldn't take him to a hospital either... when he woke up for a moment, he told us not to. If things kept going like this, he was going to die here," the man said, pulling aside the curtain.
The first thing Arsh saw was Ezra's pale face. He already had a pale look, but now he was even paler. In the light coming through the open curtain of the shack, Arsh could see sweat dripping down his face and his cracked lips. He was breathing heavily, sometimes groaning in pain. As Arsh looked from his face down to his bandaged body, he saw dark, vein-like marks spreading from his arm up to his neck and down toward his stomach.
"What is this?" he asked, kneeling beside him.
"The doctor didn't understand what it was... You'd better get him out of here right away. You look like you have money. Find a good doctor."
The man leaned inside and pulled out a few items. It was Ezra's jacket, his bloody shirt, his hat, and a few blood-stained notebooks.
"He had these on him... There's also some money in his jacket pocket. We're homeless, but we didn't touch it, don't worry," the man said anxiously.
"Thank you so much. You saved my friend's life."
"Heh, it's nothing. Humanity isn't dead yet," the man said, taking off his torn hat and scratching his greasy hair with a shy smile. "But let me tell you what I heard from the others, some strange men are looking for an injured guy with blonde hair. You'd better be careful."
"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind," Arsh said. The man left him by Ezra's side and went back to the others.
Arsh had to make a plan to get Ezra out of here. Turning back to Tirsit by train in this condition seemed impossible. If Ezra could use his power, it wouldn't be an issue, but he was unconscious. Maybe it would be possible to hire a carriage to go back.
He sat by Ezra's side, thinking about his options while looking at the small boats tied under the bridge.
The homeless men came back, this time holding a piece of cheese and some bread.
"Eat this if you're hungry. We don't have much. And try to get your friend to drink a bit of this milk," the man said.
"I'm not hungry. Thank you," Arsh replied.
The man then sat down beside him on the ground and began eating his own portion.
"What are you thinking so hard about?"
"Someone is after my friend," Arsh said.
"Yeah, we figured that much out," the man laughed.
"Right." Arsh also laughed.
"I need to get him out of here. But there's a high chance someone is waiting for him on the roads or at the station. I know a doctor in Tirsit who can treat him. I'm trying to figure out how to get him there without drawing attention."
The man kept eating his bread and cheese in silence for a moment. Then he suddenly set his food down and spoke.
"I think I can help you with that," he said cheerfully.
...
"Where is my little treasure?" Juan said as he walked into the house in the woods. As usual, he was wearing his strange rags.
"He's not in Tirsit. He went to Hals this morning," Mes said.
Mes had a pile of documents in his hands. It seemed that the sudden change in the organization's official status had caused him the most trouble. They had left him with a massive amount of work that he didn't fully understand—deciding whose names would appear on official records, the distribution of roles, how the funding would be used, and so on. He was reviewing the old records one by one, preparing a list for Professor Reiner regarding who they could contact.
However, he had a problem.
Ever since Juan had arrived, he had been wandering around sighing, following Mes wherever he went, and constantly asking how Arsh was doing. Since everyone else had retired to their rooms to rest peacefully, dealing with this stubborn man had been left entirely to him.