ACT III: THE HERO
Noah crossed through the curtains to the other side, and was greeted by an atmosphere thick with the scent of coal and smoke, the roads paved with uneven stones, and horse-drawn carriages slowly passing over them.
The buildings were tall, built from black or gray brick, their windows narrow and framed in iron. In the center of the city, a clock tower rose high above all the other buildings. It was built from dark stone, and its corners were decorated with precise geometric engravings. Its front face held four large clocks, their frames were copper, and their long black hands pointed to the time accurately. Atop the tower, there was a huge bell covered in a thin layer of rust, only rung at every full hour. The small windows at the top were tightly shut, and from its peak rose a faint thread of smoke, a sign of ongoing activity inside. Around its base, guards passed by from time to time, and people raised their eyes toward it to check the time, without stopping their steps.
The gas lamps were distributed along the roadsides, emitting a dim yellow light, and moths were drawn to them because of their glow. The sounds of wheels, the steps of passersby, and the whistles of guards mixed in the air. The men wore long coats and tall hats, and the women wore heavy dresses with many layers. The rain was light but unending, and water gathered in the gaps between the stones. Vendors stood under wooden canopies, displaying their goods in silence. The sky was gray, and the air cold.
"It's raining..." Noah whispered to himself as he lifted his hand slightly to feel the cold rain falling on his palm. Then Noah checked the space beside him from the corner of his eye, but he noticed he was alone—the ones who had entered with him had already left.
Noah adjusted his cloak until it covered his inner shirt, then looked ahead and began walking slowly, his shiny shoes hitting the wet ground, making the sound of wet footsteps that blended into the surrounding atmosphere.
Noah ventured among the people, and as usual, their faces were blurry and foggy. At this moment, Noah reached a stage where he realized something he had ignored. He raised his head up and noticed that all that surrounded him was a vast city stretching endlessly, with no spectators.
"Where are the spectators?" Noah wondered to himself in confusion. That was when he returned to his persona the moment he saw lightning in the sky followed by the roar of thunder. He then lowered his head and continued walking.
After a few minutes, Noah reached a strange district. The streetlights started to decrease along the road, and the people's fancy clothes began to change into more suspicious ones—those who wore cloaks to cover their faces, those who carried weapons like pistols and daggers hidden in their belts—and they began to eye Noah, examining him as a stranger to the district.
"Are these mercenaries?" Noah thought to himself, tense and anxious, darting his eyes between everyone. That was when he turned his eyes away from the path and to his side, only to bump into the broad back of someone.
Noah stepped back after the collision. Then the man turned toward him—he was large in build, dark-skinned, shirtless, which made his massive, oil-glossed muscles stand out. He wore short pants with torn edges, and even his leg muscles were twice the size of Noah. His face, as usual, was blurred and unclear.
"A-Ah, I'm sorry," said Noah in an apologetic and nervous tone. He then tried to walk around the man to escape, but the man grabbed him by his shirt collar and pulled him toward him with force.
"Are your eyes stitched by a drunken tailor, or do you roam like a foolish moth toward the flame?!" said the man in an annoyed tone, tightening his grip on Noah's collar, the veins on his muscular hands bulging.
At that moment, the white geometric shape glowed lightly around Noah's pupil, and then Noah chuckled softly.
"Better to be a foolish moth than a raging beast who thinks brute strength replaces the absence of mind," said Noah with a provocative tone and an arrogant smile, as if he had become a different person.
"And will your mind save you in this situation?!" said the man before his muscles tensed and he suddenly threw Noah toward a stone building wall, hitting it hard and causing a cloud of dust and dirt to burst into the air.
Many people turned toward the source of the noise, and those who were uninterested became eager to see what happened to the strange boy who started a fight out of nowhere.
"I'll be a gentleman and pay for your funeral rites," said the man, folding his arms as he stood unmoving, like a towering mountain.
Then the dust and dirt clouds cleared away, revealing Noah lying stretched out, pieces of fallen stone piled on him, his body covered in dust, and blood dripping from between his lips.
"Oh my God, look at the mess you've caused. This will cost quite a bit," said Noah in a sarcastic tone as he pulled his arms and legs from under the rubble and stood up. He then brushed off the dust from his body while a light smile rose on his face, as if he hadn't just been hurled into a wall.
"If I weren't afraid of dirtying my hands with your filthy blood, I'd make you swallow that vile tongue of yours!" said the man in an angry and mocking tone. He then began walking toward Noah, an arrogant smile on his face.
Noah smiled wider, wiped the blood from his lips, and looked at his now blood-covered finger.
Far away, atop the giant clock tower, stood a grown woman with a feminine and snow-white appearance, wearing a luxurious yellow dress tinged with sunlight from which trails of golden threads flowed. It was Calli. She held a lorgnette in her hand and looked through it toward what was happening with Noah.
"He's finally arrived..." Calli whispered to herself with an interested tone, placing the tip of her finger below her lips, thinking of something before snapping her finger.
"This will do the job," said Calli with excitement, laughing softly while covering her mouth with her palm like a lady.
Back to Noah's location…
"You rich people think you can act however you want and get away with it—but you entered our district. Even the royal family fears to step in here. What makes you think you'll survive?!" said the man in an angry tone. Then he threw a punch at Noah with all his strength, aimed at his face. But Noah didn't react—his smile simply grew wider.
At that moment, a woman suddenly appeared in front of him, standing between him and the man, opening a foldable fan decorated with drawings of the sun at the top and flames at the bottom. With it, she blocked the man's punch as if he had struck an iron wall.
"What the—" the man said, shocked, stepping back from surprise.
Noah stood behind the mysterious woman who had just appeared, confused, looking at her from behind.
"Who are you to speak this way about the royal family, you cheap sack of coal?!" said the woman in an angry and annoyed tone—it was Calli.
"H-Huh?! And who do you think you are, by the Creator of the Sea?!" the man said in an equally annoyed tone, pointing his finger at Calli.
"Who am I? I am Arabella Rose Medici! The horse of the Medici family, in flesh and blood!" said 'Arabella' in a proud tone, though she was still annoyed.
"Medici?! The spear of the royal family?!" said someone shocked among the crowd.
"W-What?!...Ughh… You furball—you're lucky! If not for this woman, I'd have skinned you and salted your body for the church boys to eat!" the man said in a tense and angry tone, his eyes every few seconds darting toward Arabella before he stepped back and began to retreat and withdraw.
After he disappeared from view, Arabella sighed in relief, then straightened her posture and turned to Noah, who had been standing silently this whole time.
"Ahem, ahem... Are you the purge herald?" asked Arabella after coughing lightly, catching Noah's attention.
"Excuse me?" Noah whispered to himself in confusion. At that moment, the white square glowed again.
"Indeed, that's correct. I am Alistair Crowley, the humble purge herald. A pleasure to meet you, my lady," said 'Alistair,' placing a hand on his chest and bowing slightly to Arabella. She then extended her hand, and he took it and kissed it gently.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Crowley," said Arabella, then gently pulled her hand away from Alistair's.
Alistair lifted his head and took a full look, examining Arabella—astonished by her beauty, even letting a faint smile slip onto his lips—until Arabella coughed, noting that he had spaced out.
"Ahem, ahem— Mr. Crowley, you must understand that such unwavering attention is rather improper. One might be forgiven for thinking you are admiring more than just my visage," said Arabella in a critical but cautious tone, making Alistair realize his mistake.
"Oh... Forgive me, Lady Arabella, but if my eyes could perform such a scandalous feat, I should be knighted for my service to art," said Alistair, smiling shamelessly as if he hadn't made any mistake.
"A-A-Anyway... the royal family awaits your presence. Let's go," said Arabella, her cheeks slightly flushed as she hid her face behind her fan, but she quickly regained composure and snapped her finger.
Alistair felt confused, but then a luxurious carriage stopped—made of brown wood trimmed with gold on its edges like tusks, pulled by black horses led by a man wearing formal attire and a tall hat, his face unclear. They carried long banners bearing the royal emblem: the All-Seeing Eye glowing within a radiant sun. Alistair's confusion faded.
"Please step in, purge herald," said Arabella, gesturing with her hand for Alistair to enter—and he did.
The carriage shook slightly as he and Arabella entered. They sat facing each other. The carriage was spacious inside, with a meter separating them. It was clean, its brown wood shining as if freshly oiled. Its windows were shut with dark red curtains, providing a sense of privacy for those inside.
"The royal family has been very excited to meet you, Mr. Crowley. We've been facing problems with witchcraft lately. The guards we send return as undead, attacking their families. The royal family even began sending some mercenaries, but the results were the same..." said Arabella in a sad tone, looking down and holding a layer of her dress.
"But I'm sure Mr. Alistair will find a solution, right?" said Arabella, raising her head from the floor only to find Alistair not paying attention, looking through the curtain slits to see outside.
"Mr. Crowley, while the world outside may captivate your gaze, I must implore you to lend your attention here—our present affairs demand no less than your full consideration," said Arabella in a serious tone, capturing Alistair's attention.
"though my eyes may stray to the world outside, Lady Arabella, it is your presence that truly commands my attention—and no sight beyond these curtains could ever compare," said Alistair, turning to Arabella with a gentle and soft smile.
"...Do you speak this way to every lady you meet?" said Arabella, her cheeks blushing slightly as she covered her face again with her fan.
"Madam, I assure you, no lady has ever inspired such sincerity as you do. My words are reserved for the rarest of company," said Alistair, his smile widening. Arabella then lowered her fan and looked into Alistair's eyes.
"You… you are quite the impertinent fool, Mr. Crowley. But perhaps, an entertaining one."