Pendrick sat opposite the Baron in his office with a cold look on his face. He had just separated from Frid and Bach, and as much as he had assured them that he could handle matters with their owner, he found it hard not to feel some level of rage looking at the man. Thinking back on the day he'd had, he felt annoyed at the hoops he had to jump through just to escape an unnatural condition that wasn't even his fault.
"I take it things didn't go smoothly for you?"
Henry seemed to ask the question innocently, but Pendrick knew better. The man was barely attempting to conceal his mirth at seeing him in his current state. The blond had to resist jumping over the table and punching him, mostly because the slave seal would punish him for even trying.
"Answer my question," Pendrick gritted out.
The Baron spared him a passing glance, lightly holding a hand over his mouth. A muffled chuckle still managed to slip out, only serving to irritate Pendrick more.
"You want to know about Gewalt?" Fernand asked, visibly amused by Pendrick's frustration. "Why not ask the man himself?"
The blond simply glared, eliciting a playful shrug from Henry.
"I'm not sure if he was born there," Fernand started while shaking his head mockingly. "But his first few years of life were spent in Gatz."
Pendrick's eyes widened at hearing that.
'That hellhole?!'
The Lukaria Haven contained three major cities and two minor towns. Lukaria City was the main territory. In old-world terminology, it would be considered a capital. Dannos to the east was the smallest of the cities and boasted the highest population of neutral nobility, who remained uninvolved in politics or competition amongst the peerage. Garn was once a simple farming village to the southeast, but now was essentially a den of slavers. Triots was the second town, a military territory that hosted training facilities. Lastly, there was the second-largest territory, Gatz.
Historically, all bad things in Lukaria had originated from there. Its reputation was basically that of a garbage dump from which the worst of the worst crawled out from every now and then.
"So he's... not too well up there." Pendrick gestured to his head with a somewhat concerned expression.
The Baron snorted, stifling a laugh.
"His place of origin is what makes you think that?" Henry asked, tone drenched in amusement. He stood and looked out of a window. A smile remained on his face, but his eyes hardened. "He's definitely damaged, but it works for me, so I don't care why."
"Why the sudden curiosity?" He turned back to the blond, searching his eyes for the answers he would obviously never verbalise.
Pendrick maintained an air of stoicism. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the third person in the room.
"Let's focus on the important things that actually have us here, right now," a redhead said. "What did you speak about with the owner of Menagerie?"
Green eyes turned to acknowledge the man for the first time. He had noticed him leaning against the wall to the left since his arrival, but Fernand hadn't addressed him, so he chose to pay him no mind as well. Pendrick felt the outpouring animosity the man held for him, probably feeling slighted at being ignored.
Despite them having a cordial meeting, the redhead had chosen to attend fully decked out with combat gear. His outfit was brutally practical—dark leathers and reinforced cloth tailored for movement. Two straps crossed his torso diagonally, each crowded with knives of varying shapes and sizes. A more attentive glance at his legs and boots revealed even more blades hidden along his person, tucked wherever a hand could reach without conscious thought.
His lower face was covered by a scarf that looked awkward in combination with the rest of the outfit. Pendrick tried to read whatever he could of the man's expression, but turned away when Fernand appeared to call for their attention.
"Simon," Henry said, his voice carrying finality that demanded nothing but obedience. He then smiled at the man fondly, his tone lightening as if he were speaking to his child. "Ease up over there, will you?"
Fernand leaned against the wall beside the window, staring Simon down until he scoffed and turned his head to the side.
"Seeing that there's quite a bit of impatience, let's speed things along." He snapped his fingers and pointed at Pendrick. "Did you get what you told me about?"
The blond leaned back into his chair, noticing the well-disguised discomfort the Baron displayed at his bloody self settling into his pristine chair. Anyone less observant would have missed it, but that was his speciality. Now it was Pendrick's turn to hide the joy he got from messing with Fernand. He closed his eyes and released a heavy sigh.
"Sadly, it wasn't as easy as I had thought," he said flippantly.
Fernand blinked. "Then why even come back?"
"Because you would have said we went rogue and killed me." Pendrick rebutted, bluntly and without hesitation.
"You think so?" The baron asked with an air of aloofness about him. "You don't know me well at all, it would seem."
Despite saying that, he didn't press Pendrick further for his failure. He moved back to his chair and leaned forward to look Pendrick squarely in his face.
"So then, that's all, right?"
"Not exactly," Pendrick started. "We have a greater issue on our hands... unless of course you already knew about it."
Fernand rested his cheek on his left palm, raising an eyebrow.
"What is it?"
Pendrick stayed quiet, playing up his hesitation to speak and purposefully building up suspense until he noticed both men in the room were bursting with impatience. Discreetly, he hid his smile under his hands. His fingers interlocked, his posture leaning forward onto his elbows, rested on his thighs.
"The owner of Menagerie is a seer."
Silence.
Simon straightened up from his relaxed posture against the wall, and Fernand sat up in his chair. An empty expression took its place on his countenance. Pendrick was certain that this was the one time the Baron had been completely thrown off guard and dropped any pretences or masks.
"Are you certain?"
"Completely," the blond answered. "She read through all three of us. She knew things that no one had any way of knowing. Even feelings and thoughts... She's an incredibly powerful seer without a doubt."
Fernand actually looked distressed. It would've been a shocking sight for anyone who knew the usual him. It lasted but a moment, though, as he quickly reassembled his calculating demeanour.
"Them being a seer is concerning, but unless she's also a high-class fighter, you could have used force to subdue her," Simon chimed in.
Fernand fought back the urge to express how stupid the suggestion was.
"Putting aside how reckless that would be, she's got muscle to handle the violence aspect for her," Pendrick said plainly. "The guy was something else. Big bruiser type."
The look Henry gave the green-eyed blond was like he was surprised to find out he was stupid.
"I gave you a monster to use freely, and you're talking about some hired muscle as if they're worth considering, right now?"
Pendrick stared at him plainly, then shrugged.
"You're entirely right. He wouldn't be worth considering if that monster of yours wasn't completely helpless when faced against him."
Once again, silence overtook the room. Even Simon couldn't conceal his shock at Frid of all people apparently being overpowered. Henry, however, kept his composure this time.
"I see." His hand covered his mouth as he appeared contemplative. 'That explains their appearance,' he thought, looking at the bloody Pendrick and recalling how the other two had appeared just as out of sorts.
"Leave. Both of you," he suddenly said, grabbing his cane. "We'll speak more later."
---
"So, how'd it go?"
Pendrick shook his head at Bach in response and then subtly swung his head behind him to signal Simon's presence.
"Ah... hello." Bach lightly bowed to the redhead. It took every bit of self-control to stop himself from fidgeting in the man's presence. "It's been quite long, yeah?"
Simon didn't look at the sheepish man for long, instead scanning the corridor as if looking for something that he expected to encounter.
"Where is my niece?"
"Ah... She went with Frid to see the children in the side building," Bach answered.
Simon stared into space before shaking his head and walking off toward some unknown destination.
"She's still squandering her time like a fool," the red-haired mercenary said coldly. "Tell her to come find me."
"Sure..."
When the man was well out of earshot, Bach slumped and released a massive sigh of relief. Pendrick gave him a look to somewhat say that he was being dramatic. He then turned around and walked in the opposite direction to where Simon had gone off to.
"Where are you going?" Bach asked, scrambling to catch up with his friend.
Pendrick raised an eyebrow and gestured to the blood and filth that clung to his body.
Bach nodded sheepishly. "Right."
---
- Pendrick's Room -
He'd laid out a change of clothes—if they could even be called that—on his bed and quickly thrown off the disgusting mess he had been wearing to the side. Having made his way to the shower, he found some twisted sense of satisfaction from his prior familial status affording him luxuries here that he hadn't seen since becoming a slave.
Of everyone that "belonged" to Henry Fernand, he was pretty sure that only he and Frid experienced this kind of treatment. Frid did choose to live in a detached building on the far side of the estate, though.
'I guess that makes him a bigger person than me.'
The environment reminded him of the old days. Back when he went around as the third young noble master of House Dorn. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to wash off as much of the grime out of it as he could. Memories replayed of his early years. His mother was the only child of some minor noble from Dannos. His father had been married previously, but remarried after his first wife's passing. From an early age, Pendrick had known that his parents' marriage had been one of convenience.
Count Tyber Dorn had just begun earnestly making plays at becoming one of the central nobles of the Empire, and his mother's family just so happened to be loosely related to a big player in the nobility faction. There were already two sons born to the house, so his conception and birth were more of a calculated display for political reasons.
Pendrick would then go on to grow up majorly sidelined from any real matters of importance in the family. To pass the time, he got up to some "interesting activities" in the great streets of Lukaria City instead. He garnered a reputation there, though not a particularly positive one.
Around five years into his personal endeavours, when he was about fifteen, his father would drag him into the fold for the first time.
"Thinking on it now, everything went downhill for all of us not long after that..."
Placing a hand on the wall, the blond stood in silence, letting the water rush down for a bit longer before turning the faucet off and leaving the bathroom. He didn't even bother drying himself off, tracking water across the floor until he stood at the foot of his bed. He stared at the rags that had been provided to him as "clothes".
'A slave is a slave, huh?'
Putting them on, the sensation of the fabric sticking against his soaked frame triggered yet another memory.
A young Pendrick stood in the courtyard, rain battering down onto him. Sitting on a bench in front of him, Count Tyber—his father—stared up at him.
His build was nothing to write home about, but the man still gave off an imposing air. Unlike soldiers or the free warriors of the world, the source of such intensity wasn't based on physical strength, but on his wit.
"So, Pendrick, what do you think?" Tyber spoke, his voice grave and deep despite his appearance.
"I'm confused as to why you're consulting me," the teenager responded, curious but cold.
Tyber smirked. "I've let you run about as you please for long enough. It's plain for even a blind man to see. You're talented."
"Serve in raising your family to the greatest heights."
A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. Shaking his head to clear his head, he finished getting ready and moved to let his guests in.
"You're early." Pendrick scanned the three faces and one helmet in front of him. Sighing, he stepped aside to let them in. "Whatever. Let's start."