Prologue: Conned Crest

        Indeed, his bright chestnut eyes, perfectly molded by his mother's womb, are not mistaken as they landed on an embroidered bag when he wandered through the broken and messed carriage. He was now thinking that this was the best and most likely the worst decision he had made. He closed up the silver-blue bag and walked out as unsuspiciously as possible.

Cold sweat ran through his pale skin as he slowly picked up his pace to escape into the forest without being detected. The rest were looking for her too, and he could only bite his lip as his metal-bonded feet walked above the bloody-covered grass.

He could feel their eyes eventually land on him, after all, a sophisticated bag is an eyesore on a commoner armored man. He ran with a heavy heart while holding something precious in his arms, so precious he wanted to run with all his might and turn himself in. And he does. He didn't know, he should've known!

Sadly, if only icy gray eyes didn't land on him.

The sound of neighing horses and clamoring armor behind him turned his blood cold as the sound echoed throughout the thick forest, he clutched the bag close to his chest and hoped that in a way, his rapid heartbeat could keep what was inside quiet, and in the process calm himself down enough for him to think. He started to run and tried his best to be careful while he handled what he was carrying proved to be quite tricky with the danger he was running away from so close behind him, and the danger nature is with its rocky and rooty pathways.

       "Stop him! Catch that traitor!" A booming voice that proudly sat on a tall grey spotted horse commanded the battalion around him, armored men that were once the traitor's 'companions'- a white flag among a bloodied sea.

As the traitor ran he gradually removed his heavy armor, they weren't knights, to begin with, and he had already turned his back to his contractor.

He swiftly traveled around the trees that built up the thick forest they were in, desperately attempting to lose the stampede behind him. He found himself farther away from the large group but they were still hot on his trail. Quickly moving behind a large tree, he climbed it - not without struggle - and hid in its thick leaves, he then covered his mouth and stiffly leaned on one of the weak branches, his back facing the ground that the men ran through, feeling the vibration of their stampede.

As the group's noise faded, the traitor let go of his lungs and allowed himself to breathe again. Although quite heavily, a satisfied and thankful sigh escaped his mouth.

While still carrying the bag in his arms he carefully stood up from the branch that he leaned on and moved to settle himself on a more stable branch, or more specifically, the trunk of the tree.

He returned his attention to the bag, or what was inside of it. Slowly, he unclipped it, and a yellow cloth designed with baby blue embroidery of a Lily of Valley flower above a dragonfly was found. Feeling only its unmoving muscle, his fingers turned cold again, and panic and fear trembled in his hazel eyes. An awful feeling crawled through his skin as if eating him from the inside, he felt squirmish as his chest painfully clenched and he hitched a whine while his head buzzed with numerous shouting voices.

With Shaking hands, he lifted the yellow cloth and moved his hand to feel her heart, and then. . . He sighed in relief. The baby was alive.

She was fast asleep and it surprised him, urging a smile on his lips, and pulling his heartstrings while she quietly breathed. Chocolate brown skin covered her chubby fat and muscle, and short strands of raven hair layered on her head. The more he looked at her, the more his chest hurt.

The brown man removed his chainmail and let his wavy, ear-length, brown hair loose. He needed to gather his energy before finding the baby a proper place to live and grow up in.

The bag only has a few resources for the baby, it was enough for two days, fortunately, enough time to get her to safety - that is if he does manage to escape the battalion. Therefore, he needed to move now.

He gently returned the baby inside the bag and cautiously climbed down, he kept the bag open to prevent the child from suffocating inside and continued to tread carefully through the forest.

There was no way of knowing how far away their pursuers were from them, therefore, the only path he could take was the opposite way of where their pursuers went.

Taking the compass from his pocket, he watched the red arrow pointing in the battalion's direction, so he chose to go west instead of north.

Retracing his steps, he looked for environmental signs that led back to the normal path and safety. Back to where this child was supposed to be.

He didn't expect the guilt and anxiety this mission would bring him, he knew something was off when he found that mission on the mercenary board; a job that paid too much to protect, only to be conned and ordered to attack.

He took a sharp breath and shuddered, it was as if he could still feel that cold blade on his throat as a sharp deathly gaze pierced through him. Thankfully, he survived, but it felt as if he had already passed on at that moment.

His travel was peaceful for the most part, the only thing that kept his mind on edge was the fact that the baby was so quiet, that's why he was so glad when the baby cried, her loud voice gave him the comfort of knowing that she was healthy, she drank her milk with gusto, and her big appetite had him worrying, wondering if the baby formula packed for her was enough.

It didn't take too long until he found the main road that led to the capital, feeling thankful, he knew that he couldn't stall any longer, the grey clouds that covered the blue sky and the distant thunder urged him to run.

And so he did, gradually picking up speed with each step. He found no one on the road and found the still chirping of birds to be eerie, multiple things ran through his mind as he ran; he found the dark clouds to be a bad omen, the distant sound of the sea to be daunting, and the large and long pathway slowly sucked out the hope in him. Yet, adrenaline ran through his body and he ran as if someone was right behind him, ready to capture if he ever slowed down.

The distant neighing of horses and clamoring of armor confirmed his instinct. He knows he can't outrun the horses they mounted on — a large and noble breed of stallions — even if he were meters away from the battalion he'd still be caught.

He continued to face forward and kept running hoping his legs could get him to the territory of Espir'tu faster. And as if on cue, his body started to feel lighter, he became faster on his feet and it seemed as if he had no heavy shoes to slow him down, it was as if the rocky path had become ice, and he could only glide.

He could feel the frustration of his previous contractor directed towards him, he could only imagine his eyes narrowing at him and gritting his teeth as his grip on the leash of the poor horse tightened. The snap of his whip echoing through the forest could cut if it tried to, and all the poor horses could do was loudly neigh and pick up their pace while a monster mounted them.

The distant thunder continuously vibrated through the ground, it was like giants were after him, as if Gods were yelling at him to keep running. And that is what he intends to do.

After gaining more distance between himself and his pursuers, he found himself at a fork in the road, left or right were the only choices, and he needed to make a decision quickly. The right path led to the sea, and a peculiar orphanage settled peacefully on the left. He could keep running but it won't be long until he's caught if he chooses to do so, none of these choices are good enough!

      Icy grey eyes narrowed, and his scowl turned into a sharp smirk as his eyes caught the little brown traitor running to the right. Quite a dumb decision, he's only leading himself to utter doom, not that any other choice that rat could think of would be any better.

Leading the rest of his armed men, they followed like a herd as he turned to the right, their stampede as loud as the thunder that choired behind them. The sound of waves crashing into the shore grew louder, and he was sure that the rat would turn to the beach, only to see him keep running forward, leading himself cornered by the water that loudly crashed into the large rocks below this very cliff.

He examined the traitor who looked to be confident and determined while holding a yellow blanket close to his chest. He dismounted his horse, the white flag among the sea of red, walking carefully toward the traitor on the edge of unwavering death.

He held out his hand and firmly commanded.

      "Give me the child."

Bright chestnut eyes showed anger and reciprocated the glare directed at him. The piercing silver eyes couldn't scare him anymore.

The armored man took a step forward in impatience and the traitor took a large step back without hesitation, his eyes still holding the silver gaze. His grip tightened on the cloth he held with the silk gliding smoothly into his fingertips.

Step. (Step.)

Step. (Step.)

Step. (Step.)

Step. (Step.)

Step. (Step.)

Step. (Step.)

Step. (Step.)

Sand and small chunks of dirt broke off from the cliff as the traitor's feet reached the edge. Everything was silent but the large waves that were crashing into large rocks, the strong wind, and the distant shuffling of leaves added to the strong tension that had them frozen in their places.

     "Stubborn." The armored man whispered in a sigh before raising both his arms in the air and relaxing his expression from a stern face to a smile, "I think you and I would agree that we could just talk this out." The traitor's eyes narrowed. "I could give you what you want; money, title, power-"

             "You can keep all of that and shove it up your ass."

Speechless, the armored man gave a toothy and satisfied smirk and gave him a knowing look, and the brown man's eye twitched, refusing to have even a hint of red grace on his face.

      "We could banter all day, but my patience is unusually running thin, Kyle." His smile dropped "Give me the child."

Kyle scoffed "Oh how easy it is for you to lie, Baron Milson, if that is your name." The cold atmosphere didn't affect him as much as it affected the others, "unfortunately for you, Baron. I choose to not follow you," he took one last step back, his two feet aligning perfectly at the edge "How does it feel to be conned?"

The armored noble rushed forward with widened eyes and reaching arm as the traitor leaned, his back facing into the angry sea. Ultimately failing to grab the brunette's arm, he met his eyes and watched as his body was engulfed by the water.

A moment of silence followed, it was only for a short while but the heaviness of the atmosphere made it feel like ages had passed.

With clenched fists, the Baron walked back toward his horse and picked up the helmet he had previously thrown before ordering his men to retreat into his estate as they now had finished their mission.

       Rain trickled down and urged the forest animals to take cover for the upcoming storm, the gentle wind picked up and light barely peeked through thick grey clouds, the children who played outside the forest orphanage were urged inside by the headmistress; calling their name at the window.

The younger children rushed to the door, bickering amongst themselves as to who should open the door for the older kids, while the headmistress stressed behind the group of children. Before any child could reach the door, a bright flash followed by booming thunder had the children screaming! The older children hurriedly opened the door and rushed to pick up the kids who sat by the doorway making way for an older boy who carried a large greyish-blue bag in his arms.

The headmistress excused herself from the kids and rushed toward the boy, looking at him with a questioning gaze, her attention was then directed to the bag that the boy handed to her. Empty baby bottles, multiple soft towels, and baby clothes were inside the bag, but no baby.

She changed her attention to the outside of the bag, and the embroidered emblem of a Lily of Valley flower in front of a dragonfly encapsulated in rosemary had her eyes widened, her mind ran in a frenzy, and urged the children into the house, before closing the door and rushing to her office. Immediately grabbing a messenger paper, she continued to write a formal message despite being in a hurry and panicking. After signing her message she whispered "padl'a," and the paper disintegrated into golden dust in front of her.