Vince overtook all and proceeded towards the dining hall. The place was prepared as a great buffet, and lines of dishes were arranged on long tables, and each food was roasted hot, and exuded a strong, delicious fragrance. The workers rushed around the counters cooking and serving with accuracy.
There were hundreds of chairs and tables inside, with a distinct appearance each, carved wood, gold or velvet cushions. It was just the sight that made Vince take a moment to stop and stare in awe.
He looked at his gloved hand and then raised a little the bottom portion of it, exposing the skin. It was etched into with a sharp engraving, it was the figure of a circle of purple, and in it was the dim likeness of a woman.
Thankfully, the mark is still there, he thought, feeling a small wave of relief.
Trying to gather his courage, he skipped the food and approached a gentle-looking man nearby. The man appeared to be in his early fifties, with brown eyes, gray hair, a long face, and a neatly trimmed mustache. He wore a dark green vest and coat with a short top hat that gave him an air of old nobility.
Vince bowed slightly.
"Hello si—"
He had hardly spoken when the voice of the man broke in.
"Don't talk to me, peasant! Your appearance is stooped, your pose is distorted. Don't try to be like us!"
Vince froze, the words sinking deep.
Excuse me!?
He bit his tongue, and had to restrain himself, and turned around without answering. Other persons were looking at him, others did not give a thought to it. However, inwardly, Vince was enraged. He might easily take out the head of that man using his bare hands.
And when will Estill arrive?
An hour passed, yet Estill had not shown up. The music kept playing, and laughter echoed around the room, but the tension in Vince's chest only grew. Deciding to make some small talk, he walked toward the bar.
On his way forward to the crowd, he overheard an angry conversation.
"I'm so sorry, sir, but death will approach you soon! That's why the stars and space will guide you!"
The voice was sharp and erratic, full of energy.
Another man shouted in reply, "What are you talking about, you crazy fool!"
Then came a loud THUD! a body hitting a wall hard. The sound wasn't like flesh meeting stone; it was heavier, like something solid.
Vince hesitated, then turned toward the noise. Footsteps faded away as he approached. On the ground lay a young man, either in his late teens or early twenties. Despite the fall, he had a wide, cheerful smile on his face. His hair was a bright golden color, and his eyes shone an aquamarine blue. His skin was pale, and he wore a blue tailcoat with matching pants elegant but slightly scuffed from the hit.
Vince reached out, pitying him a little.
"You okay?"
The male glanced up at him, and then at his hand. His smile didn't fade.
"Why, thank you!"
His voice wasn't loud, but it was full of energy, almost bubbling over like he wanted to laugh or bounce for joy.
Nothing feels strange around him, Vince thought, relaxing a little. If this man was dangerous, I'd have felt a headache by now.
Maybe I can use that to my advantage.
However, the next moment Vince experienced painful sensation spreading through the lower part of his body. It was a moment of disappearance that was over in a second.
What the hell was that?
He turned to the man with sweat around his forehead. The stranger was looking full in his face, with a curious expression, and his fingers passed lightly over his own cheek. His eyes open, and he smiled a long and contented smile.
"Wait! Ah! I know what you are! Guess that makes two of us!"
Makes two of us?
Vince, in his confusion, replied, What do you mean?
The man gave a little quick laugh, his voice decreasing in greater confidence.
"You're a Stacker!"
His heart sank and Vince stared with open eyes. Cold sweat fell down his neck. He froze, unable to move.
How did he know? Is he going to kill me?
His voice trembled as he spoke.
"H-How did you know?"
The man grinned bigger and waved his hands.
"A little birdie told me!"
Vince only stared, anger slowly fuming in him.
Does this man suppose it is a joke of some kind?
He wanted to clench his fist, maybe even punch him right there, but if this man truly knew he was a Stacker, then one wrong move could mean death.
Looking up at the strained face of Vince the man held up his hands in an easy motion.
"Woah, relax, man! I will not tell anybody about you, okay? You can trust me!"
He smiled again, far too casually for Vince's comfort.
"My name's Keith."
He stretched out his hand to Vince.
Vince hesitated, stepping back slightly. He thought for a moment. about how another Stacker had already ruined his life once.
Does it even matter right now?
At last he extended his hand and shook hands with Keith.
"I'm Roe."