015 - From the ashes

A few days later, Daemon could be seen leaving the hospital once again. He was showing no change after the check-up, and even the left side of his face was still covered. It had already been months, and one couldn't help but wonder about the true state of his face.

He was about to look for a taxi when his phone rang. Looking at the screen, he saw the only number recorded in the phone and picked up the call:

"Hello?"

"Hello, Daemon, how are you doing? Are you busy?"

"Kind of."

"Is that why you didn't call me after all this time?"

"You could say that."

When Cynthia didn't hear any word of comfort, the sulky voice she used to inspire sympathy was put aside. She changed to a more jovial tone and spoke:

"Alright, I know that you just came back to the city, and also left the hospital recently, so I will forgive you. But you can't keep yourself busy all the time, you have to relax too. How about you come with me tonight to rediscover the nightlife of this city and see how it has changed?"

Daemon frowned slightly. Some things, he was not used to anymore after two years in the army, and six years in the darkness. He was trying to unwind, but the pace Cynthia was trying to impose on him wasn't matching his. He was about to decline the offer, but the woman spoke once again:

"If you dare to refuse after ignoring me for many days, I will start pestering you. I will let you know how persistent a woman can be."

Daemon looked at the passersby that were going about their normal, maybe banal lives, and sighed soundlessly:

"Alright, see you tonight."

"Yayy, I will send you the address. Don't worry, I promise to make you forget the three months you've spent lying in bed."

Daemon cut the call and called a cab.

The last few days, he had been strolling around the city, sometimes taking cabs and wandering aimlessly. And today, he was going to a place he had spotted before that looked good enough for what he wanted to do.

Once he arrived in a part of the city removed from the center, he went inside a building to ring the bell of an apartment.

He didn't have to wait for long before a woman with her hair in a bun opened the door. She should be at least fifty years old, the kind of middle-aged aunties that could be seen anywhere, though she seemed to have taken good care of herself despite no sign of affluent life.

"Madam Almer?"

The woman frowned at Daemon's question. She didn't know him, after all.

"Who is asking?"

Daemon smiled to show harmlessness, as he seemed to have come to the right place.

"I'm Daemon, Madam, Daemon Peak. I called previously to rent the place you have available."

The woman had an expression saying that she recognized the situation he described.

"Oh, so you are Mr Peak."

"Daemon. You can call me Daemon."

"Alright, Daemon, but what happened to your face? Oh, my poor boy, I hope you didn't get disfigured."

Only aunties could be so blunt, especially toward people that couldn't be older than their own children, if they had any.

"Don't worry, madam, just a small scratch. It's to avoid having an ugly scar that I made a big deal out of it."

"That's good, that's good. If not, it would be a pity for your handsome face after all."

"Thanks for the compliment, ma'am."

Daemon smiled at the relief of the woman that he was finding a bit funny but heart-warming.

"Where are my manners, please come inside. We can't talk while standing here."

Mrs Almer let Daemon in and closed the door.

The inside was a bit spacious and cozy.

"I hope you don't mind the chaos. That unfilial son of mine came back to lay low here, and apart from his work that is his passion, he lacks discipline in everything else."

"Don't worry, madam, I have seen worse."

"Then sit anywhere you want. I will get you something to drink."

After she came back with a glass of water that she placed before him, she also sat down.

"So, Daemon, you want to rent my place, but I can only rent it for six months, and the rent must be paid upfront. I know I'm being a little unreasonable, but that unfilial son of mine just wouldn't mind his own business. He had to go and be nosy. Now he has to pay some compensation according to the law."

Madam Almer had a fierce expression as if she would have clubbed her son if the latter had been in front of her. She calmed her anger, took the glass of water left untouched by her guest, and took a sip of water.

Her expression turned into one of complaint:

"That son of mine is not lacking in his studies, but he just had to read too many books full of stories about heroes. Doesn't he know that society is a realistic place. And he still wanted to apply his idealism at work. He is just a farmer. Even though I wanted him to study something else, he stubbornly chose farming. At least he was a little genius, and he did well. But why does it matter to him if the place he is working at has unlawful practices? Couldn't he have turned a blind eye and done his job? Now, not only has he lost the latter, he can only count on the six months of rent to come soon to repay the rest of his debts. Look at that, so many years of toiling, and no saving in his account. Why must I have such a stubborn son?"

Daemon nodded intermittently to show his support, only listening to the nagging with a smile that sometimes twitched with amusement in those moments he let his gaze fall on the glass of water that had been offered to him but was now in the hands of his hostess.

Granted he would not have touched it, but still…