Rain hammered against the windowpane and the wind whistled through the tiny cracks between the floorboards. The room was cold; Leor’s breath fogged the air as he coiled the sheets beneath him.

Leor, run! Don’t look back! Run! A woman’s voice cried out to him in his sleep, thrashing his body left and right.

Thunder shook the sky and Leor sprung up from his bed, sliding his swords from their sheaths. He glanced around the familiar barebones room and quickly relaxed his shoulders. His body and sheets were stained with sweat.

The same dream of his parents' haunted him every night, but for some reason, they’ve been getting more intense with each passing night. When he closed his eyes, his mother’s cries rang in his head and he could see their lifeless eyes staring back at him from the dark. He dragged his hands down his face, trying to wipe his memory of that dreadful night, and sighed heavily, “Maybe I should lay off the drink…”

Then, he gazed outside the window at the rain slithering down the glass. It rained like this on that night too...

Leor took a deep breath and the cold air sent a minty freshness down his lungs, waking him up a little more. Though it was still early, he figured since he was already awake, he should get ready for work. It was a special day after all. Leor quickly slipped on his black garments, slapped on his arm guards, and threw his cloak over it all. It was important Leor kept his identity revealed from others to avoid public outcries, but he also favored darker colors because they suited him. At least that’s what he hopes.

However, there was one thing every mercenary needed before embarking on their duties. Their weapon. The pendant on his bracelet glowed a faint yellow; his swords answered his call and flew into his grasp. Black scabbards with dark violet wrappings, golden handguards, and single edge steel blades with a sharp wave pattern lining the edges rested in his palms. The longer sword was pure black, while the other was a dazzling silver. Every morning, even if no battle had taken place, Leor inspected the health of his blades, making sure there are no nicks, no smudges, and that he could feel the sharpness by looking at it.

Leor could hear his mentor’s stern voice. I will beat you if there is so much as a scratch on Inazuma and Ikazuchi. Those were the names of the swords he left in Leor’s care, the former being the longer of the two. Memories of his younger years sent a cold chill down his spine. It has been ten long years since his mentor suddenly left without saying a word and Leor found himself living alone for the first time in his twenty-five years of life. I wonder what the old geezer is doing, he thought as he tucked Inazuma at his waist and Ikazuchi on his back.

After completing his inspection, Leor made his way downstairs to the lobby, but Gerald was still not ready to welcome the non-existent patrons. He’s probably still sleeping, Leor thought. Before walking out, Leor wrote on a piece of paper, saying “Be back in a week”, and left it behind the front desk.

The sun peeked through the disappearing rainclouds and the bells of the church resonated through the city. A sea of people stood in the town square, looking up at the church, muttering to themselves in excitement, but Leor did not partake in the festivities. Again, he stood at the very edge, away from the public eye. As he stood amongst those of opposite beliefs, he repeatedly told himself to suck it up, but the distasteful look on his face was hard not to notice.

It was then a sudden uproar shot his ears like a barrage of ballistic cannons. The crowd hollered cheers of joy and reached their hands to the balcony of the church. A middle-aged man dressed in white robes peered down at the audience with a golden winged-tip staff. He raised his hand and silence befalls the crowd in an instant. Tapping the base of the staff against the stone balcony, a translucent blue magic circle encompassed the sky above the town square.

The man spoke into the staff and his voice vocalized from the magic circle.

“People of Thalesia, thank you for joining me on this fine summer morning. Let me first thank your Goddess, Lady Naiomi for blessing us with the plentiful sea life she provides for all of humanity, will you join me?”

The man in white and the crowd took a collective moment of silence with their foreheads pressed against their clasped hands.

“Now, let us speak of what has caused many of you to question our Lords. The Haze. I assure you the Gods will protect the Seven Kingdoms. After all, it was the Seven High Lords who freed us from the shackles of the Old Ones and ended the Great Calamity five hundred years ago. They’ve sacrificed a great deal to bring forth the age of man. It is only right that we put faith in our Lords. We mustn’t let the Haze divide us. Those who have strong faith will undoubtedly be rewarded.”

A sour taste filled Leor’s mouth causing him to hack out spit. Every priest spouted the same nonsense. He cared for none of it and tuned out the remainder of the speech. For all he cared, all the Gods were the same. Self-proclaimed rulers who do nothing with their power.

Once the speech concluded, the crowd began to disperse. In the distance, two sailors were having a discussion away from others. Little did they know, Leor’s clothes hid him in the shadows.

“It was good to hear from a Pontiff. It’s about time we heard something from Lightendale. I was starting to get worried!” said the lead Sailor.

“Yes… it was.” whispered the noticeably smaller sailor.

“What’s wrong? Feeling ill?”

The small sailor hesitated and glanced around, making sure no one was within shouting distance. “I-it's just — I overheard the gates of Lightendale are shut tight... No one can get in. None can get out, least that’s the rumor I hear in the taverns.”

“Really? Perhaps Lord Ludwig needs rest. He’s been keeping the Haze out all this time after all.”

“But why doesn’t he do some — “

The larger sailor muffled his colleague’s mouths with callus hands. “SHHH! Are you insane? Do you want to be labeled as a heathen? Keep spouting things like that and you’ll have no food to bring back to your kids.” He released his hand and placed it onto his friend’s shoulder, giving him a light squeeze. “Some things are better left alone. Come, let’s go to the Port Shrine and pray to Lady Naiomi. Let’s hope she’ll give us a bountiful catch and protect us from sea monsters!”

The two speed-walked to the docks as the larger sailor’s laugh slowly faded into the distance.

Lightendale, huh. If that were true, how are we to get in?, thought Leor. A cold presence from behind erected the hairs on his neck. He turned around with his hand hovering the hilt of his blade.

“Oh my, sorry. I did not mean to startle you.” said the hooded man with his hand outreached. “You must be Leor.”

With his hand still hovering his weapon, Leor slid backward for more distance. How does he know who I am? “That is none of your concern. What do you want?”

The hooded man stepped forward. Leor jumped two steps back in response. “Now, now. No need to be on edge. You were told to meet me here, were you not?” chuckled the man as he lifted his hood high enough to only reveal a portion of his face.

Leor’s eyelids peeled back as far as they could. “Y-you — “

“That’s right. No need to make a fuss. We don’t want people to start rushing us, right?” said the man. He cleared his throat and shone the same smile he used during the speech. “My name is Alden Ainsworth of Ouranós. Though, Alden is just fine.”

For a moment, there was silence. Leor’s mouth hung open; his lips quivered, trying to find the right words, but nothing intricate came out. His brain caught up to only finish his previous thought.

“Y-you’re the priest who just gave the speech. You’re the client!?”

Alden laughed. “Pontiff, actually. And yes, why else would I be standing before you in this back alley?”

Leor tried to scratch some sense into his scalp. Why would someone like him need to hire a guard? Why would he hire me? Does he know about my stance? He took a closer look at Alden. Older gentlemen, maybe ten years older, same gleaming smile, and same overbearing energy radiating from his person. It was blinding. The only thing different was his attire, a dark poncho riddled with holes. Compared to his white robes, it looked like he was wearing a garb he found off the floor, behind a dumpster.

“Alright... “, exhaled Leor, regaining his composure. “Why does a “Pontiff” need my services? Shouldn’t you have plenty of guards to take you to Lightendale?”

A look of annoyance broke through his grin. Alden clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “I want to see the country through a commoner’s eyes! Those stuff-necks refuse to let me do anything. I’m sick of their uptight demeanor. Something must be stuck up their asses!”

The sudden profanity slapped Leor across the face, making him stand at attention. Alden shattered his previous personifications of what a person of high religious rank would act like. He was carefree and cheerful. Perhaps it was a slip of the tongue, but Leor preferred this over the opposite.

“Right…,” said Leor. “Well, I think you have the wrong person.”

“Really? You fit the description pretty well. Black hair, all back garments, two Yojin swords, and a lifeless face. And, you responded when I said your name.”

Leor glared back at him and promised to find whoever wrote that description. It was probably Rose. He’ll give her an ear full when he gets back to the Guild.

“If it’ll help, I can pay in advance,” said Alden.

The jingle of a sack of coins blessed Leor’s ears with a gentle kiss. His stomach growled, seemingly to already understand what it could eat with the money. Even his coin pouch tugged on his waist. Then, he remembered Gerald and thought of how long he could shut him up about rent.

After leaning to one side in his fictitious argument with himself, Leor snagged his advance from Alden and the weight of it surprised him. Almost to the point of tears. I-I’ve never held this much gold before…

Worried that he’s revealing too much lustful greed, Leor cleared his throat. “Very well. I accept the commission. I’m not calling you ‘Lord’ or anything, got it?”

Alden’s face lit up like a child being shown a Familiar. “Really!? That’s wonderful! Come, we need to meet my associate at the clock tower. She’s waiting for us with a horse and cart.”

“Wait… Horse and cart? This is going to be a long trip…”, Leor thought with a sigh as he dragged his feet behind his new zealous client.