Chapter 60: Luminous Bell Bloom

[POV: Clervie - 3rd Person]

Clervie was stunned as the person who had introduced himself as the "Director" of some mysterious organization—well, her mysterious organization now, she supposed—removed his mask, revealing a youthful face that seemed completely at odds with the demeanor he had displayed earlier.

"Alright, as a token of gratitude for your trust, and as a new member of my organization, allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Carman Lepaute, Director of L'équipe de Scène. It is nice to formally meet you, Clervie."

Clervie just stared at him in shock. He was young—far too young. He couldn't have been older than seven, and yet, from the way he carried himself, from the way he spoke, she would have sworn she was talking to a diminutive adult mimicking a child's voice. The dissonance between what she had imagined and the reality before her made her brain short-circuit for a moment.

"What did I just get myself into…" she muttered, sighing as she tilted her head down and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Then she looked back up, suspicion narrowing her gaze. "Alright, little lord, where are your mom and dad?"

Carman's expression scrunched in confusion. "Little lord? Where did that come from?" He shook his head, then answered, "My father is probably sleeping in his apartment... I don't have a mother."

Clervie frowned. "What do you mean by 'his apartment'? Where do you live? And aren't you just some rich noble kid?"

Carman snorted. "Rich noble kid? Pft, what gave you that idea?" He waved a dismissive hand before continuing, "My father lives in a rather cramped apartment at the moment due to his recent financial troubles. He only adopted me recently, and since he didn't need extra space before that, he never moved. As for me, I've been staying with Ryuzu here."

Clervie's frown deepened. Then, a few details clicked into place—his red hair, his recent adoption, his intelligence. She gasped slightly. "Wait… Red hair… adopted recently… highly intelligent… You're the kid my mother was looking into a while ago! The one who managed to slip away after running from the orphanage!"

Carman sighed. "Oh, so you've heard about me? Yeah, I really didn't like the vibes of the people your mother sent to my orphanage. Call it a gut instinct, but I can tell when someone is bad news. Something I got better at during my time on the streets…" His voice trailed off slightly, his gaze momentarily distant.

Clervie smirked. "Heh. Seems like I got the best help I could ask for in escaping from the Hearth then."

"Indeed." Carman's lips quirked into a small smile. "Now, should we discuss how we're going to introduce your alter ego to society? Or was all that talk about going stir-crazy a lie?"

Clervie crossed her arms. "Ah, yeah. So should I just go out and make sure I'm not followed when I get back?"

"Yes and no. We need to train you to respond to your new name and teach you to ignore your real one. We can't have you giving yourself away by instinctively reacting when someone calls for Clervie. You also need to memorize details about your new persona—your favorite food, color, how we met, etc."

"How we met? Why?"

"Because, Sylvain," Carman emphasized, "I will need to be able to approach you in public, and you'll need to be able to approach me if you ever run into trouble."

"Ugh… That's so much work…" Clervie grumbled.

"I know, but it'll pay off, I promise. Besides, we can do it while we go out. As long as we stick to main streets, you should be fine. Your disguise should be bland enough to blend in, but we also need to train you to walk differently."

"Walk differently?" Clervie huffed. "Now it just feels like you're piling things on."

"Yes, because a skilled eye can see through a disguise if someone's mannerisms stay the same," Carman explained. "Your walking gait, whether or not you skip or dance randomly, how you fidget when bored—on their own, they won't necessarily tip anyone off. But if a suspect exhibits all the habits of their target? You'd have to be blind and dumb not to connect the dots. Especially if the person watching knows their target personally."

"Hhhh…. Fiiinee," Clervie groaned. "Let's get this over with. But seriously, you've put a lot of thought into this… How old even are you?"

"I am the reincarnation of King Deshret, lord of sands of the Desert people, and I am 5 years old" Carman answered, with a shit eating grin.

"Deshret…. Who is that? Like hell you are five years old, fine keep your secrets." Clervie shot back, rolling her eyes.

For the next hour, they worked on refining Sylvain's personality. They made sure not to make the identity a complete 180-degree shift from Clervie's own, as that would prove too difficult to maintain.

Clervie decided to base parts of Sylvain's personality on her friend Peruere. Not only was she familiar enough with Peruere's mannerisms to mimic them, but the aloof, wary attitude would fit an experienced street rat's persona. She practiced in front of a mirror, attempting to adopt a cold, detached expression and perfecting the deadpan eyebrow raise Peruere often used instead of asking questions verbally. It was harder than she expected—Clervie had always been naturally expressive, so suppressing her usual reactions took effort.

After thirty more minutes, she finally managed to hold a decent gloomy expression—though, at that point, it was mostly fueled by her frustration with the task.

[Pov: Third person-general]

Then, under cover of dusk, they slipped outside through a gap in the wall. They took separate routes to a nearby café to ensure they looked like they had come from different places.

Clervie, while thrilled to finally be outside again, couldn't shake a sense of anxiety. Every step down the street made her feel exposed, like someone was watching her, ready to grab her and drag her back to the Hearth. She tried to act naturally, staying alert, doing her best not to stand out in the crowd.

When she reached the cafe, she spotted Carman already waiting. He seemed so carefree, sipping a drink like he had no concerns in the world. When he noticed her, he gave her a reserved wave. After a moment, she waved back in a lazy manner like she barely had the energy to spend on politeness.

"Sylvain! Long time no see! I was getting worried you got snatched." Said Carman as she approached

Snatched.. street slang for when a person is kidnapped by a criminal and either sold to a wealthy individual in Fontaine or shipped off to another party via the criminal underground. Clervie, having been part of the house who also contributed to the annual tally of snatched individuals already knew the term. 

"Yeah I had a near miss, luckily the bozos who tried were too big to fit into the sewer entrance I dove into. Had to keep a low profile for a while, but I found your note. Congrats on graduating from street life by the way." Said Sylvain.

"Thank you, have you considered my offer?" Said Carman.

"What, to be your assistant workshop assistant? While I appreciate the sentiment, we both know I don't have the talent for that kind of work." Said Sylvain.

"All I would need you to do is help me carry and hold things." said Carman, "also this way you would be able to buy yourself some new clothes and things until you are old enough to get a real job."

"Oh, is that it? I thought I would need to know all those fancy mechanisms you would be working on." Said Sylvain. "In that case I should be able to help you."

"Excellent! I'll tell my father that you accepted, he will probably want to meet you before you actually start though, anyways, let's get you some better clothes, it looks like you've grown since the time we scavenged those clothes." Carman beamed.

"Yeah yeah, just don't blow all your allowance on me mr. rich pants." Said Sylvain rolling his eyes.

Internally Clervie was screaming at how edgy she was acting, but compared to how she felt at the hearth, she wasn't going to complain much.

Carman stood up and called for Ryuzu who had been perusing a bookstore next to the small coffee shop. Ryuzu paid for the book she had been eyeing, a novel which the owner claimed to have a few citrons in. 'Maybe this time it would actually feature the fruit...' thought Ryuzu

Carman paid the waiter after asking if Sylvain wanted anything from the menu only to receive a negative response. Standing up to go, Carman eyed Ryuzu's book choice but chose not to comment.

As they strolled, Ryuzu discreetly used ventriloquism to throw her voice from different angles, occasionally quietly calling out, "Clervie!" in varying tones. In the beginning, Clervie tensed, instinctively starting to turn before catching herself. Gradually learned to suppress her reactions, but every time she slipped up she shot a quick glare at Carman who tried to keep a deadpan in response, but one could notice the corners of his mouth quirking upward in amusement. 

After a while of Clervie being able to ignore her name being spoken, Carman commented, "You're adapting to this better than I expected."

While Clervie knew he was talking about her control over her responses, to the outside observer, it would seem he was commenting on Sylvain being able to deal with the small hill of clothes Ryuzu was bringing for him to try on.

"Yeah, well, it's not too hard, but it's really annoying," she grumbled before quietly saying. "My name's been what I've answered to my whole life. It's weird trying to ignore it."

"That's to be expected, one is conditioned to turn to the sound of their own name, it would be strange, if not a possible sign of a mental disorder if you could change which name you respond to so easily." Whispered carman after making sure he was out of ear and eyeshot

"Again, you are way too smart for your age, I don't even understand what you just said." Said Sylvain

They continued their walk, blending into the evening crowd, Clervie gradually adapting to the identity of Sylvain.