The march began. The four of them—Xander, Samuel, Marcel, and their unwilling captive Orion—strode down the path, heading toward the heart of town.
Orion adjusted his mask, pulling it snugly against his face. The relief was almost instant. Without it, the irritation and raw discomfort in his skin had begun to crawl back in, threatening to spread. Now, with the mud-stained cloth covering his nose and mouth once more, the ache subsided, leaving only the sting of humiliation and the heavy beating of his heart.
"So," he finally asked, breaking the silence, "where are you taking me?"
Xander didn't even look at him. "You'll see. Now shut up and wait." His scoff carried dismissal, final and sharp.
No one said another word.
Minutes passed before the empty dirt path gave way to cobblestones and the faint murmur of voices. They had reached the busy heart of the town where people bustled through and the sight of Xander and his group dragging along a bruised and bound boy immediately drew attention.
"Who's that?" a woman asked, pointing toward Orion.
Another man narrowed his eyes. "Looks like they caught someone."
Since Orion hadn't worn the mud mask long enough to become a common sight in town, many of the townsfolk didn't recognize him immediately. To them, he was just a figure wrapped in mystery and scandal. But rumors had been spreading—rumors of someone hiding behind a patched cloth mask, someone who had clashed with the supplementary military corps not too long ago and apparently had stolen from them.
"That must be him," another murmured. "The one everyone's been talking about."
"I saw those soldiers chasing after someone earlier," a man chimed in. "Didn't realize it was this serious."
Then, a sharper voice rang out above the crowd.
"Wait a minute!"
Heads turned. The town baker, Phelix, was pushing his way through the crowd, his broad frame moving with urgency. His face flushed as recognition settled in his eyes.
"That's Orion!" he shouted.
Gasps rippled through the gathering townsfolk.
"Orion?" someone echoed. "As in one of Doctor Kay's sons?"
"Yes, that's him!" Phelix said firmly, stepping into Xander's path and blocking the group. His heavy breathing betrayed the effort of rushing, but his stance was solid, his presence commanding.
He turned his gaze on Orion, his expression softening with concern. "What happened, kid? I told you to stay away from the shop while construction was going on. And now this?"
"Boss Phelix…" Orion lowered his head, shame gnawing at his insides. He couldn't bring himself to meet the baker's eyes. Phelix wasn't just a shopkeeper; he was like a second father, a man who had always looked out for his family, often slipping Orion extra bread or pastries to take home. And now, to be seen like this—dragged through the streets like a criminal—was shameful.
Phelix's eyes hardened. He looked at Xander, his jaw tightening. "I think there's been a mistake. Orion's a good kid. Whatever you think he's done, I'm sure it's not what it looks like. Let him go."
Xander stepped forward, his tone sharp, clipped, and dripping with condescension. "Step aside, sir. We don't have time for interruptions. This boy is coming with us, and that's final."
Phelix's gaze shifted back to Orion. Beneath the mask and tangled hair, the bruises and swelling around his eye were still visible. The sight twisted his gut. The truth was plain—Orion hadn't simply been "apprehended." He had been beaten.
Resolve settled in Phelix's chest. Straightening his back, he refused to budge. "I know you officers think you're above us, but I won't stand aside. Orion is one of ours, and I won't let you treat him like this without an explanation. Whatever he did, surely it doesn't deserve this much."
Xander's nostrils flared. His patience, already thin, snapped.
"Citizen, I don't think I need to remind you how serious our presence in this town is," Xander said, his tone laced with condescension. "But in case it slipped your mind, let me make it clear. Our being here means the wave of rebirth is about to erupt from the world's horn and spread across the globe by resonating through the Splinters. As an older person, I'm certain you understand what happens if this town isn't lucky this time around. So, do you really want to delay us from reaching our destination—knowing that doing so might prevent us from returning in time to protect everyone when disaster strikes?"
The words hit Phelix like a slap. His eyes blinked rapidly, his shoulders sagging under the weight of Xander's explanation. The confidence that had carried him faltered.
"That's what I thought," Xander sneered. His scowl deepened as he gestured sharply. "Now, step aside."
For a moment, Phelix stood frozen. Then, reluctantly, he shifted, his expression heavy with defeat. Before moving fully out of the way, he placed a hand briefly on Orion's shoulder. His eyes softened, his voice lowering.
"Sorry, kid. I tried. Whatever they're planning, just endure it. I'll stop by your house later with some bread for Kay and your brother. You hear me?"
Orion forced a faint smile behind his mask. "Thank you, boss."
"Stay strong, Orion," Phelix said, stepping aside at last.
Xander wasted no time, barking an order to move. The group marched forward, weaving through the gawking crowd and leaving Phelix behind.
After walking for several more minutes and drawing close to Juliet's house, the wooden front door creaked open, and she stepped out in a panicked frenzy. A deep sadness lingered across her features, as if the weight of the truth had already reached her ears before she had even seen the sight before her. It was the kind of expression that revealed she had already been told what was happening—or at the very least, had feared it and now saw those fears confirmed.
The younger children of the town, always restless and unable to keep secrets, had already carried the news far and wide. They had overheard Phelix blurting out Orion's name during the confrontation earlier, and the revelation had spread like wildfire. Among them had been Juliet's younger brother, who, with wide eyes and an anxious urgency, had rushed back home and delivered the information straight to her. By the time Orion and the corps members arrived in front of her house, Juliet already knew who the captive in their custody was.
"Orion…" Juliet's voice trembled slightly, not loud, but heavy with emotion. Her gaze spoke volumes, saying everything her lips could not. The sorrow in her eyes, the tension in her posture, the slight tremor in her fingers—these all conveyed her helplessness.
Orion, despite his bruised face and the weight pressing on his shoulders, managed to give her a brief, reassuring wink as his smile would have been concealed under the mask. He dipped his head ever so slightly in acknowledgment— a subtle gesture, but Juliet understood what it meant. You did what you could. You tried to help me earlier. This isn't your fault, so don't blame yourself.
On the other hand, however, Xander had already picked up on the unspoken exchange. His sharp eyes and calculating mind pieced things together. He suspected, and perhaps even knew, that Juliet had aided Orion earlier—even if she had tried to act as though she hadn't.
His lips curled into a cruel sneer as he slowed his pace to approach her.
"In the end, we still managed to catch the thieving punk," Xander announced mockingly, his words laced with a smug satisfaction. "The supplementary military corps truly appreciate your assistance with the fishnets earlier."
His mischievous smirk widened as he delivered the jab, carefully crafted to sting Juliet where it hurt most. He wanted her to feel small, to feel as though her earlier efforts had been meaningless—laughable, even. And the cruel part was, it worked. The faint pride Orion's small gesture had given her drained completely from her expression. Her shoulders stiffened, and her lips parted as though to speak, only to close again in silence.
Without waiting for her response, Xander motioned for his companions to continue. The group walked past Juliet, ignoring the anguish etched on her face, and resumed their steady march. The procession soon reached the very edge of town, where their destination loomed before them.
Orion's steps faltered as his eyes widened. The massive, well-decorated building stood tall and imposing, an architectural symbol of authority and tradition. Gold and crimson accents glinted in the afternoon sun, and its carved wooden gates bore intricate markings that represented the long-standing leadership of the village. It was a place where few common townsfolk ever had reason to tread, let alone enter.
"The chieftain's house?" Orion muttered under his breath, his voice thick with disbelief.
He stared at the structure in awe and dread. His mind raced. What possible connection could my arrest have with the village chieftain?
The question echoed inside him, but no answer came. Instead, his heart began to hammer violently against his ribs, and his breathing grew shallow beneath the cloth mask tied firmly around his face. An ominous sense of foreboding settled over him, chilling him to the bone. Whatever awaited him inside that building, he knew, would change everything.