Chapter 3: Who is this demon?
I wasn't surprised by what I had read. In fact, it was great to finally know what century this world resembled—very close to the Victorian period, given the presence of an Emperor and noble classes. This diary in my hands gave me a reason to venture out a bit more before returning. I just couldn't die.
— A demonic creature in the tower? — I furrowed my brow in doubt. This seemed like something out of a fantasy world. — Since the moment I arrived here, I haven't seen anything like that…
[...]
Tired of reading, I closed the diary and placed it back on the desk, on top of other books I would also take to the room.
— A village nearby that also belongs to the owners of this mansion… — I looked at the boy's face as he got up from the floor and came toward me with the book he had been observing at earlier, stacking it on top of mine. — It seems interesting to check it out, doesn't it? — He didn't answer me, just ran out of the office eagerly.
After finishing my research, I found only a few useful things in that pile of records. The map of the area was included, showing the location of the village mentioned in the diary that belonged to the Vespertinos.
While still sitting in the office armchair, the boy, who had returned after ignoring my question, brought me the leather-bound book from the room, its pages open and almost falling out, with the words "Give a Name" highlighted in the first chapter.
The boy who had brought the manuscript couldn't read, but suddenly his lack of interest in the material had disappeared, replaced by fascination with the magical color change of the letters. It was then that a small book fell from one of the shelves.
I reached my feet to the floor and got up from the large armchair that made me look even smaller than I already was. I walked over to the little book and picked it up, seeing that its blue cover had golden letters:
"Baby Names"
Its interior, which previously had a folded paper in the middle, was filled with both male and female names, each with a different meaning. The boy behind me picked up the paper that had fallen and handed it to me, and there it was written: Rafael Vespertino. One of the few that wasn't crossed out.
I briefly walked around the room, pacing in circles with the paper in my hand, deep in thought, showing how anxious and unsettled I was. I took both of the boy's hands, who followed me like in a game of cat and mouse, and looked into the depths of his red eyes.
— Shall we go for a walk outside? — I wanted to get to the village as quickly as possible.
I grabbed the map from the desk and the charcoal the boy carried in his pocket to mark the path we would take. — I can't just sit around waiting for food to fall from the sky. I can't even think of anything but food right now! — Using the back door, the route was already mapped out.
[...]
I took dark overcoats that resembled raincoats, found in the kitchen, and put them on both of us. I tied the hood strings tightly around our necks so they wouldn't fall and reveal our identities.
In a random basket found in the same place, I placed some jewelry and gemstones found in the pink bedroom drawer, along with the map and the Vespertino family diary.
[...]
Standing in front of the entrance gate, the last thing I needed to do was reread some excerpts from the Vespertino diary, where over 200 days written were about how the village grew increasingly prosperous, with merchants using it as a trade route.
I leaned against the worn stone wall. The boy, who had been excitedly waiting beside me for the trip to the village, holding a used sketchbook I had found in the yellow children room, had forgotten to bring the charcoal he would use to draw.
— Remember what we agreed on — I raised my finger, gesturing. — You're my mute little brother, and we're traveling to look for our parents. You can't take off the cloak under any circumstances because your skin is fragile.
He nodded with an excited expression on his face, fists clenched. Leaving the sketchbook with me, he ran back to the mansion to fetch what he had forgotten.
"April 28th, year 481.
His Grace, Duke Vespertino, and I set out at dawn on a journey to the village, seeking to understand why we had been summoned so urgently. Fortunately, it was nothing to worry about—they simply wanted to gift our duchess for the birth of young Lord Rafael.
I also heard some reports about local trade. Many allied kingdoms had not yet begun using coins instead of barter, which made fair exchange difficult in our village, which serves as the gateway to the empire due to the trade route. But as long as we could sell fabrics and gemstones to tailors in the capital, it wasn't entirely negative to trade for lodging and food."
Reading the text, I could understand a bit about the local economy. I didn't have coins, but at least I could trade the jewelry in my basket for food until I found a way to earn money.
As I ran my hand over the pocket of the dress I was wearing, looking for something to mark the page I was reading, I felt something rough and stony that stained my fingers black—it was the piece of charcoal from earlier, which I had used to mark the map. Maybe that was why the boy hadn't returned yet, since the charcoal was with me.
[...]
We descended the hill along a path covered with trees—so many that the path didn't physically exist—and even passed by the lake where I had first met the boy. Now, in daylight, the calm waters of that place sparkled like carved sapphires.
It wasn't as big as I had imagined, nor as deep.
My legs were sweating under all those clothes, while I tied up the hem of my dress so I could run. The boy didn't seem as tired as I was, but he walked slowly in a way that irritated me. We had already been walking downhill for 20 minutes.
— Do you want me to carry you on my back? — I sat on a large, flat rock along the path and signaled that I would help him climb up.
I was rejected immediately, with him shaking his head and his pale face slightly pink from being under the sun for too long.
— Walk faster, then. We need to get there before I faint from hunger. — I made an angry face and crossed my arms, getting up from the rock I had been sitting on.
[...]
Finally, we found the place, with its two-story houses and buildings in a retro Victorian style visible even from afar. The entrance was through a huge opening in the wall of raw wooden logs that surrounded the entire village. It was bigger than I had imagined, but the guards at their posts by the gate didn't seem interested in two small, hooded children entering through the front.
Clutching the boy's back, I pushed him forward, trying to slip past the stern-looking men with their spears unnoticed.
— You, little one. Are you carrying something in the basket? — One of the guards, leaning against the wall, pointed at me rudely. I smiled at him. — Just some kid stuff, hehe. — If he saw the jewels inside or even wanted to inspect the book I was carrying, they might arrest me, thinking I had stolen from someone.
— Aren't your parents with you? Is this child beside you your brother? — The idiot adult bombarded me with questions, delaying my moment of glory inside the village.
— Yes, he's my little brother. — I placed my hand on the boy's shoulders, who sweetly hugged his sketchbook. His features were hidden by the hood, but he looked as innocent as ever. The guard eyed him with a suspicious expression, as if doubting something about two small children.
— Why isn't he talking? — The guard stepped away from the wall and approached us, his heavy armor clanking with each step on the stone-paved ground.
With his spear in his right hand, he reached out with his left toward the boy, trying to abruptly lift his hood. Terrified, I instinctively grabbed the soldier's hand without a second thought.
— He's sick. His skin is sensitive to the sun, and he's also mute. Our parents are already inside; they own a market stall. — I spoke bluntly and sharply. The gruff man with messy brown hair clicked his tongue, looking away from me as if hoping to find a reason to stop us from entering.
I was already ready to kick his unprotected shins and push past him, but unfortunately, he stopped asking stupid questions before that could happen.
He shouted to his fellow guards at the entrance:
— Let them through. It's just a little girl and her crippled brother. — The knight walked back to his post without even glancing at us again.
"What an idiot, calling my boy crippled just because he doesn't speak. I hope he gets fired for being a clueless fool."
I walked through the gate with the boy by my side, clutching his sketchbook, while glaring at the jerk who stayed behind, my eyes burning with anger. Walking forward, I stuck out my tongue sneakily as revenge, and the boy, who caught me off guard, started laughing.
[...]
Earlier, I had been anxious in case things didn't go as I expected, but everything seemed perfectly human and normal so far. The market stalls lining the streets, the carts passing by, and people shopping and enjoying themselves.
I walked along the sidewalk, holding the boy's hand on one side and the basket on the other, listening to human voices (after hours of talking to myself in that mansion) that mingled like an orchestra of various symphonies.
I noticed that every time someone approached us, the boy hid behind me, clutching my cloak and burying his face in my back. He must have never been in an environment like this, full of human beings.
A large, hooded man appeared a few feet away from us, speaking in a foreign language with the owner of one of the fruit stalls and handing her a heavy pouch. Who was I to say this was suspicious? Even though, in exchange for the bag of coins, he didn't receive a single fruit.
There were several stalls all on the left side, while on the right were the doors of houses and the carts of merchants passing by.
I approached the same stall where I had seen the man and got closer to the lady who hadn't noticed me.
— Hello! Do you still accept trades? — I said to the woman in front of me, whose face was wrinkled like a dried plum and whose hair was white with age.
— Good morning, children! Shopping so early? — The woman squinted as if she couldn't see a hand's length in front of her. With her hands on her back, she leaned closer, her face near mine, and when she was about to look at the boy, I pulled him behind me, shielding him.
— I accept both trades and coins. What do you want to trade with me?
I reached into the basket, almost pulling out some of the jewels I had, but then I thought better of it.
It wouldn't be normal for a child to have jewels like these, and even if it happened, trading jewels for mere apples and oranges would disrupt the local market and draw too much attention to us in the middle of the day.
— Actually… I remembered my brother is allergic to citrus fruits! — I took a few steps back and bid farewell to the stall lady, embarrassed for wasting her time.
I sighed, placing my hand on my chest, for almost making a mistake that would cost us our peace.
[...]
Far from the market, we were in an empty area with a few establishments still open and streets paved with sidewalks. Few people were passing through, but those who were there consisted mainly of travelers or seemingly nobles out for a stroll.
"I'm so happy society exists!"
I jumped for joy, holding the boy's hands, who, not understanding my excitement, started jumping with me too. The only thing that could ruin my happiness was being chased during my stroll.
As I walked through the streets of this village, looking at the shops and searching for a place with few people where I could buy food without drawing attention, I noticed suspicious movement behind us. No matter where we were, the same two redheads were in my sight.
Footsteps echoed in my ears, even in environments where it was just the two of us.
I grabbed the boy by the arm and asked him to put his sketchbook in the basket. At the end of the street, there was an alley that seemed like a dead end, but if you looked closely in the right corner, you'd see an opening that led around the back.
— When I say 'Go!', we'll run there. — I pointed discreetly to the alley. The boy nodded up and down, his neutral expression turning into an eager smile, as if he were enjoying the situation.
— Go! — At the signal, it seemed like he ran much faster than me, even pulling me along with our arms linked.
At the end of the dark alley, going through the opening and coming out the other side, we looped behind our redheaded pursuers, slipping into the first open place we found. It resembled a humble inn and restaurant.
The moment they lost sight of us, they searched the alley but didn't have the courage to enter the darkness and discover the opening we had escaped through.
Looking through the window of the place where we were hiding, I saw what they looked like: a girl and a boy, teenagers, twins, and definitely nobles. The clothes they wore were unlike the "common" ones I had seen in the village. They were clean and decorated, especially the redheaded girl's dress, which was completely adorned and eye-catching.
It was strange to see two hooded children like us wandering the streets, but it wasn't a reason for such behavior from these two!
Not finding us or any clues about where we had gone, they left, kicking stones on the ground, angry at not getting what they wanted.
[...]
Looking more closely at the place where we were, it was simple, with tables, chairs, and wooden floors, enough to accommodate a small number of people. The staircase at the back leading to the second floor was likely where the guests went up to their rooms.
In front was a counter, and behind it, a plump lady in an apron drying freshly washed glasses.
— Oh, two little children. What would you like? — The lady had noticed us enter, thanks to the bell that rang when we opened the door. She smiled sweetly at us, placing the glasses back on the shelves behind her.
— Do you still accept trades? — I asked, stepping forward in front of the boy. This place seemed perfect for using the jewels.
— Of course, dear! — Coming out from behind the counter and grabbing an illustrated menu from it, she approached us calmly.
— Sit anywhere and choose anything from here. — She handed us the pamphlet, which had only drawings and simple words composing the food list, with their prices beside them.
We sat further back in the place, avoiding being seen through the window; the boy needed my help to climb onto his high seat, and I had to lean on the table to sit down.
Calling the lady who was standing beside us, I looked around and whispered in her ear while subtly pulling the gemstone accessories from the basket:
— Will you accept these as payment? They belonged to my late mother. But now that our father has abandoned us, we have no other way to pay for food. — The time I had spent looking for a place that would accept them was also the time I had to come up with a story for the precious jewels. I used a bit of my truth and the script I had previously agreed on with the boy.
I put on a melancholic face, like a child who had just been abandoned.
"Cry, cry! Let the tears flow!"
I tried to make my eyes as watery as possible.
— Oh my… — The lady said, startled, her hand covering her mouth and her eyes teary.
— My brother was born sick and mute, and my father couldn't handle the grief of the loss. I don't blame him; At least my little brother has me. — The lady handed me the handkerchief she kept in the front pocket of her apron so I could wipe my eyes.
— What do you plan to do now, little one? Do you have a place to stay? — With teary eyes, the lady leaned closer, holding my hands between hers like a sandwich.
— We're traveling to my maternal grandfather's house so he can take care of us.
— I can't accept the accessories, little one. I recently lost my elderly mother to an illness too, and I know how important it is to have something to remember them by. — At that moment, my stomach growled loudly, interrupting the emotional moment, and my face flushed with embarrassment. — Oh my… We've been talking for too long, and you must be hungry. Don't worry miss, it's on the house. — The hurried and concerned woman went to get us food.
The boy swung his legs and kept moving his hands, stretched out on the table while he lay on his stomach. I couldn't give him back the sketchbook, or his hands would get dirty with charcoal, so I just intertwined my fingers with his as a way to calm him down. He, who had seemed distracted earlier, turned his attention to my face, looking deeply into my eyes beneath that hood, and smiled back at my gesture.
After some waiting, the lady brought us plates of vegetable soup, which, according to her:
— Vegetables are good for your health, so eat up!
The set also came with bread, just the way I liked it.
As the woman left our table to attend to other matters in the kitchen, I noticed the boy hadn't touched the soup or even the bread.
— What's wrong? Don't you like this? — I thought it might just be a child's tantrum about not liking vegetables, but when he looked at me anxiously and opened his mouth, I saw it was something else preventing him from eating.
I whispered to him while glancing back to check if the lady had seen.
— What is this… why didn't you tell me earlier that you don't have teeth?! — His mouth was just gums and a straw-like proboscis instead of a human tongue. It wasn't a pretty sight, especially considering how strange he already was.
— Don't show this to others… I'll see if I can get you some honey. — I was startled for a few seconds, but remembering his gentle and dependent nature kept me calm. However, with this, it became even harder to find something we could both eat together.
Even after finishing my soup, I still had room for the boy's portion, and I cleaned our plates.
I got up from the chair and headed to the counter where the woman was, but I got no response. Instead, I overheard a quiet conversation in her kitchen with an older man who called her "love."
— If the crown prince really comes here, do you think there's a chance he'll eat at our inn? — This was the lady's voice, worried about something as she discussed it with the man.
— Of course, my love! We should seize the opportunity and grow the family business! In this merchant village, ours is the only restaurant.
— But why do you think he'd come to this small village? Could it be because of the demon in Duke Vespertino's tower? — They fell silent for a moment until the man came out of the kitchen with the woman.
— Oh, little one! Finished your soup? — She made it clear on her face that she hoped I hadn't overheard anything. — Let me take the plates!
— I actually came to ask for a glass of juice… please. — It felt like I was taking advantage of her kindness, but what could I do if the boy couldn't eat?
The bearded, burly man looked at me with an expression that made it seem like my presence wasn't welcome.
— Ah, little one… May I know your name? — The lady asked before heading back into the kitchen.
— Lucia, and yours? — I asked, trying to sound at least somewhat interested.
— Sophia. Thank you miss, for telling me your name. Now I'll go get the juice. — She smiled upon receiving the answer and went in, leaving me alone with the man.
— You remind me of our daughter when she was younger. Now that she's grown, she's living in the capital. — The robust man came out from behind the counter and crouched to my height.
— Nice to meet you, Lucia. I'm Gather, the owner of the restaurant and Sophia's husband. I'm usually in the kitchen preparing the food. — It wasn't that he didn't find me pleasant; it was just that his face always looked that way.
— You're not from here, are you? — He said, scratching his beard.
— How do you know?!
— By the way you and your brother stand out wearing these cloaks. — He laughed loudly, giving me strong pats on the back, like an old man would. Startled, the boy, who had been sitting in the chair earlier, appeared behind me, protecting my back with his own hands.
He must have thought Gather was hurting me.
"Is he imitating when I stopped the guard from lifting his hood?"
— Look, we have a little knight among us. — Gather placed his heavy hand on the boy's head, ruffling his hair, while I held the cloak's strings to keep the hood in place.
— Want to hear a cool story while we wait for the juice? — Gather stood up and pulled a chair to sit at a table.
I didn't know if I could say "yes," because the story he seemed to want to tell was likely related to the demon living under the same roof as us.