Chapter 16 - Crown

Lira lingered for a bit longer, fidgeting as if unsure whether to leave for the night or not. Her fingers twisted the edge of her sleeve, betraying her thoughts at first look, but I acted as if I didn't notice it. Well, I didn't mind it either. She kept glancing at me, maybe waiting for me to ask her to stay or something. The dim light of the room softened her features, and my thoughts began traveling in a particular direction, but in the end, I shooed them away. This was neither the time nor the moment to do anything rash. I barely know her anyway. Maybe she noticed it on my face because eventually, she sighed, her shoulders slumping as if surrendering to a decision she hadn't entirely made herself. She offered me a soft smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Get some more rest, okay? I'll check on you later," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Before I could respond, she slipped out my door, back into the night, pulling it shut behind her, making me feel... I don't know what. Disappointment? In myself? Hard to say.

With Lira gone, I stretched, standing up, now taken care of, fed, and somewhat rested. I found that I had regained just enough strength to keep myself from falling back into the suffocating embrace of a tired coma, which made me think about what to do next. Yes, my body still ached, a dull, persistent throb pricking me from under, something that seemed to emanate from my spine. It made my limbs kind of heavy and my thoughts sluggish, as though my body was wading through a pool, dragging concrete behind me. Hopefully, there won't be a fight that I need to get into in the immediate future. Chuckling, I stared at the ceiling for a moment, the rough-hewn beams above me already a familiar sight, and wondered if this was how my future would be from now on. Because if it will be, I will need to start climbing the ladder. I need a better place to stay, and I need to start training, both costing money and no matter what kind of world I am in. If this is how I feel after only one fight, I will die sooner or later... I must get stronger so it doesn't exhaust me so thoroughly and allows me to survive whatever fate has for me in store.

Determined to shake the feeling off, I forced myself to start walking, wincing as my muscles protested the sudden movement. I dressed back up, each motion hurting, but I just ignored it. I took it to test the limits of my body. The fabric of my clothes felt coarse against my now sensitive skin, probably because Lira did such a good job that I was now wholly conscious that I was injured.

"Big deal, Auriel..." I told myself, "It is a cat's scratch. Stop being a baby."

While scolding myself, I stepped outside, enjoying the cool wind and the clean air, something that was unknown in my old city. One thing this world for sure has over that is the quality of the air... No smog, no pollution. Walking down the stairs, I listened as the city was quieter at this hour than it was throughout the day, but it wasn't silent. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, and the occasional shouts of voices drifted from a house or two that I walked past by. Not every family has a peaceful night, huh? Typical. While walking, I kept my hood up, my hands buried in my pockets, forcing my body to move swiftly through the crooked alleys that led to the Crow's Nest. It turns out that a bit of active moving after the initial pain began alleviating it, helping me to move more fluidly. Or it was the aftereffect of forcing myself to a brisk pace. No matter, it worked.

By the time I arrived, the Crow's Nest was as lively as ever. The warmth of the place had spilled out into the street, telling me that the others were probably having some kind of party. Maybe celebrating our success. I could clearly hear Cravik's loud laughter and then the clinking of metal mugs against each other. Arriving, I paused at the door, entering the door, my eyes scanning the room until they landed on Cravik. The burly man leaned against the bar, a tankard in hand, looking as though he had never been injured at all, retelling our fight with the beast-folk with exaggerated movements, joking about stepping on a cat's tail or something. Seeing me approach, he just grinned, his teeth flashing in the dim light.

"Finally, I was worried you died in your sleep, but look at you, still walking!" He laughed, his voice booming over the noise of the others. "But you look a bit pale. Don't worry, kiddo; the potions hit differently for everyone. You'll bounce back soon enough."

"Is it that obvious?" I shrugged while the others all came up to me, patting my shoulders and congratulating me, which... felt really good. After a while, with my own mug in my left hand, I rubbed my temple, the ache in my head a slight reminder of the potion's effects. "It's not that bad, though. I am used to feeling like shit." I muttered, my voice low.

"Nothing that a good drink can't solve." Cravik chuckled. "You're not built for the strong stuff. Yet. You ought to start working out more and build some muscle! The stronger your body, the better it'll take the strain."

"I thought about it, but..." I shot him a wary look, my lips twitching in a half-smile. "Yeah... I am not really looking to turn into a jacked bull like you."

"Moooo!" Cravik laughed heartily, playing into it, his sound drawing a few glances from nearby patrons, bursting into laughter. "Suit yourself," he continued, taking a swig from his tankard. "But remember, strength ain't just about lifting crates or dames with each hand. It keeps you alive. Fertile! You might be quick, but one wrong hit, and you're done, kid."

"Then I just need to be fast enough not to get hit."

I exhaled, crossing my arms over my chest. The idea of becoming stronger wasn't unappealing, but the thought of bulking up like Cravik wasn't exactly my life-long goal. I preferred speed and precision over raw power. I believed in a type of balance that I had never strived for in my old life. Now I can try to. Still, Cravik had a point. My body had struggled to handle the strain of the potion, which only became evident after the battle was over. In a later fight, that kind of weakness could mean death if it overcomes me at the wrong moment. The thought lingered for a little more, a quiet unease settling in the pit of my stomach.

"Anyway," Before I could mull over it a bit more, Cravik's grin widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he bumped my chest with his fist. "It's time."

"Huh?" I frowned, putting down my mug but taking a big sip from it first. "Time for what?"

"You'll see." Cravik clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder, its force nearly knocking me off balance. He is so touchy now; what the... "From now on, you're counted as a real member of the gang. And that means it's time for you to meet the Crown."

My body tensed slightly, a flicker of apprehension coursing through my mind. I had been working with the gang for a while now, but I had never met the person at the top—this shadowy figure who pulled the strings and made it all happen. Huh... This was a step deeper into the world I had already started to entangle myself in. If there was a sign of no point of return, this was it.

Still, I just nodded. Fuck it. This is my life now.

So, I followed Cravik through the city, leaving the nest and walking the streets in silence with him. The more neglected alleys around our hideout soon gave way to more roads covered in polished cobblestones and well-maintained buildings, a stark contrast to the Crowfoot gang's usual operating area. Finally, the house we had stopped at was, although unremarkable, it gave me a feeling that it was intentionally so. It was the kind of place that blended into the background. There were no guards, no signs of danger, just a simple home with a warm glow spilling from its windows.

From within, the sound of laughter echoed... Listening, I was sure that it was a child. Bright and carefree. The kind of giggle that only innocence can create, which then was followed by a man's soothing voice. Cravik knocked and waited politely, patiently. When the door swung open, I was met with a surprising sight, making me blink my eyes multiple times, making sure I wasn't just seeing things. It was Risa who stood there, holding a small, four-year-old girl in her arms. The child's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she peered at me, her tiny fingers clutching a sewn little doll. Because she didn't recognize me, she took a bit longer time, her gaze lingering on my features before turning to Cravik.

"Eh!" She grunted, happy to see Cravik, who just beamed like an idiot. Which fitted him well, and I couldn't help but chuckle the same way. Right before my shock returned, looking at Risa, a thousand questions emerged from within my mind.

"Welcome, Auriel," Risa said warmly, her smile genuine. "Come in, have dinner. Let's talk about your future in my gang."

Hiding in plain sight... huh? I shrugged, smiling, shaking my head. I wouldn't have guessed.

...

....

...

Meanwhile, across the city, the atmosphere in the Guild's main chamber was far less welcoming than what Auriel was going through. The room was dimly lit; the flickering light of a single lantern wasn't enough to light up all the faces of the men gathered around the one table they sat at. Their expressions were grim, clearly debating something they were not too happy about. Something that gave them a slight headache.

"He slipped out of the city against orders," one of them muttered, his voice tense. "And now he's back like nothing happened. He defied our direct order. He is guilty."

"..." The Guildmaster, Reagan, tapped his fingers against the table in a slow, deliberate rhythm, stopping his colleague from continuing. "The real problem is who he was with. The Crowfoot."

"Yeah..." Another man shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze darting to the leader before settling back on the table. "We can't afford to act too harshly. The gang supplies us with valuable intel and goods, and our partnership is going back a decade now. If we push too hard, we risk losing their cooperation."

"And?" A younger member of the gathering frowned, his hands clenched into fists on the table. "If we do nothing, we set a precedent. Auriel isn't just some foot soldier; he is a registered member of the Guild. To remind you all, the Guild spans over the continent! If he starts aligning himself too closely with them, he could become a liability! He––"

"Enough!" Ira, the scarred woman who was there when Auriel was first brought before Reagan, shouted, silencing everyone. "If you think you can lecture us about the Guild, you are twenty years too late, kid. You were sucking your momma's tits when I was already killing people, so shut the fuck up."

Silence settled over the room quickly, thick and suffocating, before Reagan finally spoke again. His voice was serene, but there was an edge to it, a warning that sent a chill through the air, reinforcing his righthand woman's words.

"For now, we wait. We watch. But make no mistake—if Auriel continues down this path, we will have to act. And when we do, it will be decisive. A gang is a gang. They won't choose a new member over the profit they gain from us. Lazlow will return soon, and he will bring back enough information to determine if the boy is innocent or not. Until then, keep your egos in check."

"..." Another pause followed his words before one of the men added in a questioning voice, "What if the Crowfoot decides they want him fully on their side? Would he still be a guild member or not?"

"..." Reagan's eyes darkened, his gaze sharpening like the edge of a blade that was half drawn out. "That depends on where his loyalties lie. And whether or not he makes the right choice. The Guild doesn't harbor criminals. Our reputation is better than that. He will then be expelled, and all of the Guild's resources will be cut from him. Everywhere."