Celestial Marking

The stranger's body fell, and he lost consciousness, prompting Agatha to spring to her feet. She retrieved her small dagger hidden in the strap of her leg and poised to drive its tip into the man's heart when suddenly, Aiden screamed behind her.

"No," he said firmly.

Agatha's hand, holding the dagger, froze midair. Aiden rushed in her direction, carefully navigating around the scattered corpses of the Ghouls on the ground. His shirt was torn, revealing a bleeding wound on his head. Agatha was overwhelmed by a mix of anger, fear, and pain at the sight of Aiden's condition. She vowed to herself that she would take excellent care of Aiden, keeping him away from any trouble no matter what, yet here she was, failing to protect him in his time of need.

"Aiden," Agatha called out, her voice tinged with warning, her tears freshly shed.

"Don't harm him, Aggie," Aiden spoke in a hushed voice, as though afraid of being overheard. "He helped me earlier. If he hadn't been there, perhaps... the Ghouls would have already captured me." Aiden struggled to hold back his tears, evident in his watery eyes.

Agatha hugged Aiden tightly, as if afraid he might disappear if she let go.

"It's my fault," Agatha confessed, her voice trembling. "I shouldn't have left you. I'm sorry, Aiden. It's all my fault. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Agatha was overcome with guilt, but she quickly composed herself. There was no time for tears. They needed to leave as soon as possible.

"Aiden, we need to go now," she stated firmly, gripping the boy's hand tightly as they began to run. However, she halted abruptly when Aiden stopped in his tracks. "Aiden..."

"Aggie," Aiden said, pointing with his index finger at the unconscious man among the Ghoul corpses.

Agatha looked at the man on the ground, puzzled. "What about him?" she asked. "We have to leave, Aiden, before more Ghouls arrive..."

Knowing that more Ghouls were likely on their way, Agatha tried to pull Aiden along, but he remained rooted to the spot.

With a worried expression, Aiden insisted, "But Aggie, we can't just leave him here in this condition."

Agatha fixed a stern gaze on Aiden. "Come here, Aiden," she gestured with a flick of her hand. "He's not our concern."

"But Aggie, he's unconscious," Aiden protested. "If the Ghouls return, he'll die."

Agatha raised an eyebrow at Aiden. "Then?" She tugged at him once more.

"He helped me fend off those kids who hurt me before. Then he assisted in taking down those Ghouls. Without him, I might not be alive now, Aggie. Maybe we would both be gone already. I owe him my life..."

Despite Aiden's pleas, Agatha continued to pull him until he finally relented. Time was running out. Agatha was prepared to fight if the Ghouls returned for Aiden, even if it meant risking her life. What she feared most was her own powerlessness, her inability to protect the boy.

She had only taken a life once before, and she lacked skill with any weapon apart from her small dagger. She felt inadequate on the battlefield, and Aiden was just a child. It seemed logical to flee and seek refuge elsewhere for a chance at peaceful living.

As they distanced themselves, Agatha was struck by guilt. She groaned as she recalled Aiden's words. She had initially believed the stranger to be an ally of the Ghouls, a belief she still held until Aiden's revelation. Now, she was torn between two conflicting thoughts.

What if he truly was a kindhearted gentleman? What if he stumbled upon Aiden accidentally and decided to help? What if other Ghouls came and killed him? The idea of his blood on her hands made Agatha feel sick.

"Agatha, we can't just leave him," Aiden repeated, his words weighing heavily on Agatha's conscience.

She groaned audibly, then sighed deeply, coming to a halt. Locking eyes with Aiden, she saw worry in his golden gaze, far removed from innocence, filled instead with concern, awe, and a touch of fear. She knew he was scared, yet his concern for the man was palpable.

Agatha had vowed to herself to care for the boy, to dedicate herself to preserving his life and nurturing him to become a good person, unlike his father. Despite their harsh life, she was determined not to let the warmth in the boy's heart be extinguished. To achieve this, she needed to set an example for him, to show him the right actions of good people.

Although she still harbored reservations and doubts about the man, Agatha turned around, her resolve firm.

Aiden silently followed Agatha as she returned to the unconscious man. The boy's lips held a ghostly smile, a sentiment Agatha couldn't decipher. She wasn't aware of what this man had done to earn Aiden's faint approval. Aiden wasn't one to easily befriend others. Agatha had tried to encourage him to make friends daily, but he remained cautious in his interactions. He seemed to possess a knack for discerning genuine character and inherent goodness in people, perhaps even in this man.

Agatha hurriedly began pulling the man along. Since he hadn't regained consciousness, they had to move swiftly. He was heavy and muscular, too much for Agatha to carry alone even with Aiden's help. Their movements were quick, fueled by fear of another group of Ghouls arriving to harm them. Given their location on the far side of the Hearst Forest, it took them quite some time before they finally reached their modest home.

The rush of adrenaline indeed seemed to give Agatha and Aiden the strength to carry the man along. Now, Agatha was already planning their immediate departure. It was clear they needed to find a new hiding place as this location was no longer safe. However, upon their arrival, Agatha realized she needed to tend to Aiden first. He was so exhausted that he quickly collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep sleep, snoring softly.

Sleepiness didn't seem to affect Agatha, despite her extreme exhaustion, fear, and even hunger. Her weary eyes were drawn to the man lying on the ground inside their small house. He appeared gigantic compared to their modest surroundings. His clothes were dirty and caked with soil and mud from their hasty journey. He had pale blond hair cascading down to his shoulders, slightly wavy, giving him the air of a precious prince from a fantastical tale. Despite being dirtied, his features were fair and almost flawless. He possessed a straight, aristocratic nose, long eyelashes, and lips that were notably attractive. Overall, he had a strikingly handsome appearance.

Agatha had encountered numerous handsome men during her time as a waitress at Albus Hotspot, but there was something distinctly different about this man. While he had the appearance of a prince, his aura exuded danger. She had witnessed how effortlessly he moved earlier, how gracefully he dispatched the Ghouls without breaking a sweat. The way he wielded his blade hinted at a skilled swordsman, his physique suggesting strength and agility honed through rigorous training.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Yes, he possessed a powerful body that could easily pose a threat. She couldn't afford to let her guard down, especially now that her priority was protecting Aiden and ensuring their survival. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted by caring for a stranger. Her own life and that of the boy were paramount. Agatha needed to stay focused and resolute.

Agatha couldn't shake the feeling that the man's appearance was not merely skin deep. There was an aura of mystery about him that piqued her curiosity, despite the inherent danger. Yet, she reminded herself that curiosity could be perilous, especially for someone like her. She needed to remain invisible, unnoticed by others, particularly within the Primotheus Capital.

Gazing at the man once more, she noted that his hair wasn't pointed like that of an Elven. He lacked horns, ruling out the possibility of him being a Ravager. His body bore no tribal tattoos, eliminating the likelihood of him being a Werebeast. Additionally, there were no celestial markings on his hands, so he wasn't a Warlock either. As his clothes were torn, revealing his elegant arms, Agatha could discern no scales that might indicate him being a Wyvern. This left her pondering whether he was a Metamorph, a Witch, a Fae, or something entirely different.

Agatha couldn't shake off her decision to leave while the man was still asleep. After drinking some water, she approached Aiden. Finding no wounds on him, she changed his clothes, and now he lay sleeping peacefully. She lacked the heart to wake him for their departure. Agatha stood and began packing, putting all their essentials into a large handcrafted basket. By the time she finished, it was well past midnight, and she sensed dawn approaching in the breeze.

Despite the late hour, darkness still enveloped the surroundings, adding to the surreal atmosphere. Agatha wearily sat on their bed. She had used her power earlier to find Aiden and then again to incapacitate the man who now lay at their feet. It had drained much of her energy, making someone like him faint took a toll. She then used the remainder of her strength to tend to Aiden. Exhausted from the events of the day, she fell asleep while sitting up, her eyes closing of their own accord, too fatigued to even lay down.