Chapter 3:

By means of something gently shaking his shoulder, Mitchell slowly awoke from what could be called an exhaustion-induced brain-dead deep sleep. He inhaled and exhaled deeply as he rose, drowsy as could be. The blanket that haphazardly covered him fell off of his shirtless form, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from… someone.

"Whut?" The American mumbled, opening his bleary eyes. He was very surprised to see Arriet staring wide-eyed and slightly red faced at him, frozen, though, he wasn't currently cognizant enough of himself or his surroundings to understand the meaning behind her large eyes and flushed cheeks.

"Ah, f-forgive me Mitchell," Arriet stuttered. She swallowed as she tore her eyes from the American's half-naked body. "But the morning drill is about to start. I don't want you to get in trouble, so I came to wake you."

When comprehension came to him, Mitchell's wake-up fatigue obliterated itself from existence. At the same time, he finally understood the meaning behind Arriet's red cheeks and incessant ogling, and he flushed as he got up from his bed and retrieved his dirtied shirt, equipping it without a word. How embarrassing...yet satisfying.

"No problem. Thanks for the heads-up," he replied as smoothly as he could. He gestured towards the unseen armory. "Wanna come with? You look like you wanna say somethin'."

The girl nodded, and they departed. When they arrived and Mitchell began equipping his armor, Arriet spoke. "I heard from the captain that you encountered a werewolf from the Fourth Born's forces yesterday. I'm glad to see you're unharmed."

Mitchell gave her a look. "I told ya I'd be back didn't I? It's gonna take a whole lot more than some horny wolf woman to bring me down. Besides, I promised ya."

Arriet hummed, a smile on her lips. "That you did. I must say I'm curious as to what happened though. Care to share?"

The American gave her the full rundown of his encounter with Velvet, excluding nothing. Arriet listened with rapt attention, committing any important information to memory. When Mitchell was finished, she hummed thoughtfully. "I see. So she has a grudge against the Fourth Born despite being forced to do her bidding. And she was able to dodge a shot from your crossbow at such close range?"

"Yeah," Mitchell replied, frowning. "She's a clever one, I'll give her that."

"Indeed," Arriet agreed, frowning as well. "Velvet Crowe... I'll remember her. She's definitely one to watch out for."

"Mhm," was the American's only response. Once he finished equipping his armor, they left for the courtyard.

Along their trek, Arriet remembered something. "Ah, yes, before I forget, I spoke with Miss Springfield yesterday. We've come to an agreement on a schedule. I've cleared this with the captain for you as well. He's only giving you morning guard duty at the front gate today. She should be free to tutor you at midday."

Mitchell nodded gratefully. "I appreciate that. Seriously. I'll head over there the moment my shift ends. Does that mean we can train later this evening?" He gave her a hopeful look.

Arriet gave the American a happy smile. "I'm happy to help! But I won't be available to train you this evening, sadly..."

Mitchell sagged a bit in disappointment. He was hoping to continue where they had left off. She was a better teacher than she gave herself credit for.

Noticing the American's dejection, the girl continued with an amused twinkle in her eyes, a mischievous smile on her face. "Because I'm planning on performing in the town square this evening! What do you think? Shall I see you there?"

The American, realizing he'd been bamboozled, chuckled and nudged her with his elbow. "C'mon now, don't do that to me. But yeah, I'll be there. I guess you could also say that's… music to my ears."

The girl laughed, batting him playfully on the arm. "That was terrible."

"Made ya laugh though," Mitchell grinned cheekily. "My mission has been accomplished."

Arriet giggled as they approached the courtyard. The entirety of the town's guard was already standing at attention. Thankfully, Iosef wasn't there yet. Mitchell and Arriet reluctantly split off to take their respective positions, and soon the aforementioned guard captain arrived.

The man took his place at the head of the formation, a noticeably grave look on his face. "Well, men, I'm sure you have all heard of Rondell's fate." The gathered guards shifted uneasily. Iosef continued his briefing. "I've just gotten word from the alderman that King Castor has ordered the retaking of Rondell. We can expect to see the retaliation force come through our town today. Mind yourselves around them." He gave them all a warning look. "The sooner we accommodate them, the sooner they move on."

Mitchell frowned at the way Iosef spoke, and at the reactions of the other guards. They seemed to despair at the mention of the Order, as if the soldiers of said force were an occupying force instead of the actual military of the town. The American caught sight of Arriet's conflicted expression for just a moment, then her face settled into a neutral stare.

Once the briefing was finished, the guards began their morning PT and finished with little issue. They were quickly dismissed and Mitchell was glad that Iosef didn't have some special task in mind for him. He could use the monotony after what happened yesterday.

When Mitchell said he wanted some monotony, that didn't mean he wanted to share that monotony with Jarrod, damnit. Apparently, Mikhail was paired with Donnel for morning patrol today. The American wondered if he somehow pissed Iosef off to be paired with this idiot. Not to mention, the guy never seemed to shut up.

"—and I heard you encountered a werewolf on your reconnaissance mission yesterday. Be honest, you wanted some of that, didn't you?"

Case in point.

Mitchell looked away from the scenery. The American had been attempting to drown out his companion's incessant babbling, but his patience had worn thin. He gave his colleague a flat, exasperated look. "Bruh, what the fuck are you talkin' about?"

His fellow guard gave him an irritated look. "I'm asking you if you wanted to have sex with her, you dolt. What do you think I'm asking?"

"A stupid question," was the American's flat retort.

Jarrod rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Fine. Don't answer, then. But we both know you did."

Mitchell suppressed a sigh. Thank God their shift was nearly over. He looked back towards the road to tune Jarrod out again when he noticed a lone figure approaching the town, crossing the stone bridge.

The American nudged his fellow guard. "Hey. We got a loner comin'."

Jarrod narrowed his eyes at the approaching figure. "Yeah, I see 'em. Let me handle this."

As the figure grew closer, Mitchell studied them. If their clothing of choice wasn't evidence enough, then the shape of their body gave away that they were female. Whoever she was, she wore a shoulderless white and purple dress, the sleeves of which draped from her arms and were adorned with a gold bird design. Her legs were protected by thigh-high white boots over purple thigh-high tights. Her head was concealed by a white hood that hid most of their face—only her mouth was visible. There was an elegant sabre sheathed at her waist.

When the unknown got within fifteen meters of the gate, Jarrod called out to them. "That's close enough, stranger! State your business here!"

The person halted, looking up at them. "Um, I heard that this is a place where one could start anew?"

Mitchell blinked. Whatever he was expecting, a light, sweet voice was not it. To him, the girl's voice sounded like the chime of a bell.

Understandably, this worsened Jarrod's suspicion. "A lone lady traveler? With mamano prowling about? How stupid do you think we are? Lower your hood, stranger. Or do you have something to hide?" He narrowed his eyes at the girl.

The American thought his colleague was coming on a little strong, but his suspicion was justified. The girl paused, then hesitantly reached up and pulled back her hood. What met both guards' eyes stunned them.

This girl was beyond beautiful. Her long silver hair framed a young, pretty face with shining amethyst eyes, a white flower placed carefully in her hair above her right ear. Mitchell was struck by how pure the girl's beauty was, but he was even more shocked by the fact that she had pointed ears. This girl was an elf! No wonder she was so ethereally beautiful. The American stared in wonder, blinking to make sure this wasn't some freak mirage.

Jarrod, however, scoffed, much to Mitchell's surprise. The man gave her a look of disdain. "Alright, now it makes sense. Of course a half-elf vagabond would come here. Do you even have anything to offer our town, halfie?"

When the girl winced, Mitchell felt a flare of anger. He could understand the suspicion if she was a mamano, but racism? No sir, he was shutting this shit down before it went any further.

"Oh, for fucks sake. Let me do the talkin'," the American growled, glaring at the man as he pulled him back. He softened his gaze on the girl as he spoke politely. "Hello, miss. Sorry about him. Are you sayin' you wanna start over here in town?"

The girl seemed surprised, but she answered quickly. "Oh, uh, yes! No other towns would take me in, sadly. With the mamano about, I fear I have nowhere else to go." She wilted as she finished.

Mitchell evaluated her. Of course, there was the chance all of this was a ploy of sorts, but he didn't think that was the case here. Velvet didn't seem to know the town was nearby and she was supposedly an advance scout for that Fourth Born lady—Velvet hadn't followed him to the town either, considering that she'd had pepper spray messing up her eyes and sense of smell. So the chances of the mamano knowing about the town were probably pretty low, but there was always the chance of being wrong. This girl, however, seemed genuine. He had a gut feeling she was telling the truth.

"Okay then, miss. You seem like an honest girl. Just hold on a sec, aight?" He told her, to which she gained a look of hopeful surprise and quickly nodded. He turned and called down to the gate guards. "Open up!" They nodded and pushed the doors open, letting her through.

Jarrod didn't seem to appreciate what he was hearing. "What are you doing? She could be a mamano infiltrator!" He growled, pointing at the girl.

Mitchell gave him a flat look. "Does she look like a mamano to you? I don't see any monster appendages."

"Wha—? Mamano can disguise themselves, you daft idiot!" Jarrod exclaimed in irritated disbelief. "You can't deny that she's suspicious!"

Mitchell noticed the guards—Morden and Klaus—approaching to take over their shift. He gave Jarrod a narrow eyed look. "While that may be, there's also the possibility she's tellin' the truth. You ever think about that, Mister Halfie? Even if she is a monster, are you tellin' me all of y'all can't handle one girl?"

"You—!"

"What's the problem here?" Morden asked as he and Klaus arrived. They had hurried over at the sight of the two arguing.

"This man let a potential infiltrator through, that's what," Jarrod spat, glaring at the American. He turned and descended the stairs. "The captain will be hearing about this. Soft-hearted fool." And with that, he stormed off.

"Close-minded bigot," Mitchell growled, glaring at the back of Jarrod's head. He turned back to see both guards giving him raised brows.

"He made it quite clear where his priorities lay when she revealed herself as a half-elf," the American explained, scowling. "Whatever."

The guards' eyes lit up in understanding. "Ah, I see what happened now. Still, I'm sure you know that if anything happens from this, it will be on your shoulders, right?" Klaus asked.

"Yeah, I know," Mitchell said simply as he descended the stairs. He was surprised to see the girl waiting near the stairs. Now that he could see her up close, he noticed that distance had done her looks no favors—she had an astonishingly pretty face, and her amethyst eyes had cyan pupils that were vaguely cat-like. They were easily the most beautiful and exotic eyes he had ever seen. He struggled not to stare at them.

"Ah, hello again, miss," he greeted, discarding his irritation as he gave a small smile.

The girl gave him a sheepish smile. "Hello. I came to say thank you for letting me in. It's…rare when someone doesn't judge at first glance."

"Don't mention it," Mitchell replied with a shrug. "He's an ass anyways so don't pay any mind to 'im." He gave her a curious look. "Do you know what you're gonna do here?"

She shook her head, a bit downtrodden. "Not really. I'm thinking of maybe doing odd jobs around the town, but considering who I am…"

The American shook his head and wagged his finger at her. "Nope. Don't start with that—I won't have it. It won't help ya at all." The girl looked surprised at his sudden reprimand. He continued. "Tell ya what, since you're new here, I'll give ya a little tour to maybe help ya figure out what ya wanna do."

"Oh! Um, okay! But are you sure…? You could get in trouble if you're seen with me." The girl asked. She was unusually worried for a stranger. "I don't want you to get in trouble because of me."

"Hate ta break it to ya, miss, but I'm probably already in trouble for lettin' ya in anyway," Mitchell said with a lidded, flat look. He shrugged and gave her his devil-may-care smirk. "But honestly? Who cares."

The girl blinked, staring at him as if he were some unfathomable phenomenon. "Uh, okay then. If you're sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Now c'mon, I gotta show ya around." With that, he turned and started walking into town, the girl following after him. He hoped Melissa didn't mind if he showed up later than intended.

As the duo walked, the girl gave the American curious glances until she finally gathered the nerve to speak up.

"Um...I heard your argument with the other guard at the gate. It sounded quite heated. I hope you don't mind me asking, but...does it really bother you that much?" She asked hesitantly.

"You don't hafta feel like you need to walk on eggshells around me, miss. I don't mind," Mitchell assured her. "But yeah, racism like what happened back there is a very good way to piss me off, as you've heard. But that reminds me. You wouldn't happen to be a mamano in disguise, would you, miss?" He playfully leaned forward with a good-natured smirk.

The girl giggled. It sounded delightfully like chiming bells. To his surprise, she gave a slight teasing smile. "No, I'm not. Otherwise, I would've already made my move."

"Fair enough, you got me there," he said as he cracked a smile. Then he remembered. "Oh yeah, what's your name, miss? I'm Mitchell Marlowe."

The girl smiled beautifully. The sight was so heartwarming it pulled at the American's heartstrings. "I'm Emilia. Just Emilia."

"Well then, nice to meet ya, Emilia," Mitchell said. He wondered how anyone could hate this girl.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mitchell," Emilia returned with a smile. He decided he liked that smile.

The duo continued their tour, but Emilia drew both wary and curious looks as Mitchell showed her around the town. Sadly, wherever she introduced herself she was met with a scoff or a slammed door. He quickly came to hate how much Emilia seemed to expect such cold treatment, but at the moment, he couldn't really do much—he needed to head to the library eventually. Luckily, he saved that destination for last.

"And here we have the library," Mitchell said with a grandiose gesture, much to Emilia's amusement. He suddenly had a thought. He knew Melissa was a very kind-hearted person, so maybe she could do something about Emilia's situation? Only one way to find out.

"You wanna head in? I got some stuff to do here," he asked, gesturing inside. Emilia quickly nodded.

Mitchell walked in with Emilia trailing behind, looking around the room. The American noticed the librarian behind her counter, a book in her hand. "Sorry I'm late, Melissa. I had to show someone around." He said, gesturing towards the half-elf.

The librarian noticed the duo and put down her book with an understanding smile. "Ah, helping out another newcomer are we? Did she remind you of someone?" she asked with a mischievous smirk.

Emilia gave Mitchell a curious look. "Uh, if you wanna think that, I won't stop ya," he replied.

Melissa hummed at that, turning to the half-elf. She gave the girl a welcoming smile. "Hello. Welcome to Toulouse. How may I help you?"

The half-elf had an excited air about her, and she gave a surprisingly elegant curtsy. "Hello! I'm Emilia. Do you have any fantasy adventure stories?"

"Why, I certainly do. They're on the left wall, fourth shelf to the right, third row," Melissa replied, pointing them out from where she stood.

"Thank you very much!" With that, Emilia quickly made her way to the aforementioned shelf.

Mitchell shook his head, amused at the girl's enthusiasm. He turned to Melissa. "Wanna get started?"

The librarian smiled. "Of course. I have a place all set up for you."

She led him over to the back of the room, where a table with two chairs sat. On the table were a small stack of books, blank paper, inkwells, and writing quills. She gestured for him to sit and he complied. As they got ready for the session, Mitchell felt it was time to see if his idea would work.

"Hey, uh, before we begin, do you mind hearin' me out on something?" the American inquired. Melissa blinked, tilting her head curiously.

Omitting nothing, Mitchell told Melissa everything that had happened at the gate, his tour with Emilia, and her situation. He hoped that she'd be the lifeline the girl sorely needed.

"Poor girl…" Melissa gave the girl a sympathetic look, frowning. "I've heard about how half-elves are treated and it never gets any easier to hear. She seems so sweet too. Hmm."

"She does seem to wanna earn her keep. I can tell that much," the American emphasized. "The other places here weren't exactly... accommodating."

The librarian sighed. "Well, that's disappointing, but not exactly surprising. Oh, well. It looks like it's up to me, huh?" She smiled knowingly at the American. He smiled back sheepishly, rubbing his neck.

"I'll see what I can do for her. I have an extra bedroom upstairs she could stay in." She looked up in thought. "But I must say, do you have a weakness for beautiful girls who are down on their luck?" She smirked at him.

Mitchell chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah. After seein' what all she has to put up with, I figured she deserved some good comin' her way. You're a saint, Melissa. Seriously."

She laughed. "Oh, hush with that. You showed her kindness first. You merely convinced me to take her in, you big softie."

The American flushed and decided that it was time to move on. "Anyway, wanna get started? Let's get started."

The woman merely smiled, but relented as they got started.

A couple of hours passed in which Melissa taught Mitchell about the separate characters of the written language of the land. It wasn't much, as you could expect of only a couple of hours of study, but he felt like he was finally making tangible progress. At the rate he was going, he might actually have an acceptable understanding of the language within a couple of weeks or so—of course, that was if he was being unrealistically optimistic.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, Mitchell recalled that Arriet was going to perform soon. He did not want to miss that.

"Well, Melissa, it looks like I gotta head out," the American said, getting up from his seat. "I don't wanna be late to Arriet's performance."

Melissa's eyes widened. "Ah! I forgot that was happening. Go on ahead, then. I'll talk to Miss Emilia in the meantime." She smiled. "You can expect to see us there."

"Aight then. See ya both there," Mitchell nodded. He strode towards the exit. "Later on, Emilia!"

"Ah, yes! Um, later on?" The half-elf called back.

Mitchell smirked in amusement as he left the building. He made his way towards the town square with enthusiastic steps. He would admit this was something he was very much looking forward to.

When he arrived at the town square, he found that a large crowd had gathered. Before he could head over, however…

"I'm glad you made it. You are just in time."

When Mitchell turned to confront the harpist, his eyes were blessed by an extraordinary sight. Arriet stood there, a warm smile on her visage and a teasing glint in her rose-red eyes. A beautiful white one-piece short skirt dress with feathered blue endings adorned her wonderful body, showing off her perfect thighs, the legs of which were concealed by knee-high boots of matching color, each with their own gold embellishments. Elbow-length white gloves with similar decorations emphasized the fair skin of her upper-arms and shoulders, as well as what was shown of her gentle mammaries. The gloves ended with an ocean of feathered designs that draped around her angelically—ethereally. She wore her usual gold headpiece but with gold links clipped in her hair. To top the ethereal image off, she held a shining gold harp in her arms. In layman's terms, she was gorgeous.

Mitchell openly gawked at her in amazement. He blinked. "Okay, so, whoever designed that amazing dress deserves some credit and you deserve all the rest for wearin' it so good. You're not bein' fair to us guys, Arriet."

Arriet flushed at the heartfelt praise. "Ah, I'm happy you like it. Is it strange to say I was hoping you would?"

The American shook his head. "Nah, it ain't. But let me correct you on somethin'. I don't like it—I love it. Please wear it more."

The girl giggled, her blush intensifying. "Well then! I'll keep that in mind! Shall we?" With that, she walked over towards the fountain with a hurried gait.

Mitchell smirked as he followed her. Looks like she was regretting her words a few days ago.

As he made his way to the front of the crowd, Mitchell noticed Melissa and Emilia arriving at the town square. He stood up front along with a group of kids—the very same from the day before—who stared at Arriet in adoration and excitement.

The harpist made herself comfortable on the lawn near the fountain, splaying out her dress as a makeshift blanket to lay on. She scanned the surrounding crowd until her eyes landed on the American's. In a sudden bout of boldness, he winked at her. She smiled warmly and started to play.

Mitchell had been expecting her to be good, but he didn't expect her to be damn near magical. This girl had talent, let that be said. He was just as enthralled as the children next to him, no small amount of thanks to her stunning performance.

Her music played into the evening, and pedestrians mingled, enjoying a moment where they could briefly forget about their problems. Mitchell had a weird feeling that this was what Arriet had wanted when she started to play. He even noticed that, thanks to the relaxed atmosphere, people were slowly warming up to Emilia, who looked a bit overwhelmed by it all.

Feeling weirdly bold, the American lay down near Arriet as she played. She gave him an amused look as she continued to strum her harp.

'I couldn't ask for a better relaxing moment,' Mitchell thought contentedly with a sigh.

Suddenly, Arriet's gentle ministrations were cut short by the loud, cacophonous sound of a horse's whine. Everyone in the crowd turned to the unwanted commotion to see an armored man riding a horse, leading a column of soldiers into the town square. Iosef and Markus appeared to greet the man on the horse.

The man's eyes swept over the crowd, scowling as he noticed Emilia and, to Mitchell's surprise, Arriet. He felt a flare of anger at the man's ruinous arrival. He saw that while Emilia avoided the man's gaze, and Arriet met his scowl with a stoic look. There was tension and discomfort in her, though.

Thankfully, the man looked away to speak to the captain and the alderman.

"Who are they?" Mitchell asked Arriet, staring the armored man down.

"If I were to guess, it is likely they are the Order soldiers tasked with retaking Rondell," the harpist answered. She gave the armored man a rare distasteful look. "I am in disbelief at the King's choice of leadership, however. I'm not usually one to question the King, but what is he thinking—sending him?"

The American looked over at her, brow raised. "You know 'im?"

"Unfortunately," she sighed. She looked over at Mitchell, giving a strangely apologetic smile. "He was a colleague of mine a couple of years ago. He hasn't changed a bit."

"He looks like a self-important manchild," Mitchell said flatly.

Arriet barked a laugh, quickly covering her mouth with a hand to hide an amused smile. "You aren't wrong, actually. That's the quickest I've seen a person judge someone's character so accurately. Well done."

The American snorted. "I'd be proud of that if it weren't so obvious. Look at 'im! If he wasn't on his horse, he'd probably strut around like a peacock."

She only hummed in agreement, a much more relaxed smile on her face.

"Um, may I join you two?"

The harpist and the hunter looked over to see Emilia, curiously leaning forward with her hands interlocked behind her.

Mitchell merely shrugged. "Go right ahead."

"Certainly. I don't mind," Arriet replied, eyeing the half-elf with a curious look. "I don't believe we've met? I am Arriet Archaletta. Are you a newcomer?"

Emilia nodded. "Yes, I'm new here. My name is Emilia. Mitchell helped me settle in." She gave him a grateful smile. "Miss Melissa told me what you did. Thank you for that."

Arriet was immediately interested. "Oh? Do tell, Emilia—what did our dear hunter do?" She gave the American a mischievous look.

Mitchell was instantly uncomfortable when Emilia gave him the same look. Apparently, there was some kind of mutual agreement to bully him going on.

"Well, he argued on my behalf to let me into town, and convinced Miss Melissa to take me in when I had nowhere to go," the half-elf said. She smirked at his flushed face. "She's right, you know. You really are a big softie."

"I absolutely agree," the harpist concurred with a teasing look. The enjoyment in her eyes was palpable.

The American quickly hit his embarrassment threshold. He waved his hands in surrender. "Aight, now. I think y'all had your fun. Please stop bullying me."

Both girls giggled and relented, showing him mercy.

The evening went on, thankfully without any further interruptions. As the soldiers passed through the town, the unlikely trio continued to chat with one another, Mitchell sharing his own story of how he arrived in Toulouse with Emilia as Arriet began playing again. Soon enough, it grew dark, and people began returning to their homes.

Reluctantly, the trio parted ways, returning to their respective abodes.

After a thorough dressing down by Iosef for letting in a potential threat, Mitchell went straight to bed. But even after such a reprimand, Mitchell's mood could not be dampened from the great time he had that evening.

'I could get used to more days like this one,' Mitchell smiled as he slipped into bed. Little did he know, reality would soon break down his door.

When Mitchell woke up the next day, he realized something crucial. He still had yet to show Arriet his phone. He had honestly forgotten about it amidst the chaos that was these last few days. He remembered her performance the day before and wondered what kind of ideas they could have if he shared his music with her. Melissa had told him the previous evening that she would be focusing on helping Emilia settle in and help out around the library, so studying was out for the day.

Well, he knew what he was doing after his guard duties. But first he was going to buy some clothes with the money he'd earned. He could only wash his clothes in the wash bin so many times before enough was enough.

Morning PT came and went in a blur to the American as he thought about what songs he could introduce to Arriet. Blessedly, he was back with Mikhail on guard duty today.

"I heard you and Jarrod got into it over the half-elf girl yesterday," Mikhail said as they patrolled. He waved Mitchell off when the American opened his mouth to reply. "You don't need to explain. Personally, I think you did the right thing. Leaving someone for the mamano to ravage doesn't sit well with me."

"Thanks," Mitchell replied, giving him a grateful look. "It wasn't even about that with him though. It was all about her bein' a half-elf. He just tried to act like it was for the "good of the town" that we turn her away."

"Ah," his fellow guard grimaced. "That does sound like something Jarrod would do."

As they made their rounds in the town square, they both noticed Melissa and Emilia at one of the open stalls.

"Is that her?" Mikhail inquired, staring at the half-elf. The hunter nodded in reply. Mikhail hummed. "Well, I see why you let her in now."

"Bruh, you try sayin' no to that face," Mitchell said, rolling his eyes. He saw Emilia notice him, waving with a smile. He gave her a two finger wave.

"Just making an observation," his fellow guard replied, shrugging.

Their patrol went on uneventfully until they were relieved of their duties for the hour break. Deciding to get his clothes shopping out of the way, he headed to the tailor's shop to get fitted.

It cost him two work days worth of his pay but damn if it wasn't worth it. They told him to come back in a few hours when they finished weaving his clothes. He spent the rest of his hour break sitting at the fountain in the town square, eating his freshly cooked meal he bought from a nearby food stall.

He was watching the people go about their business to pass the time when he noticed Arriet at an open stall some distance away. Deciding there was no better time to share his idea, he got up and made his way over. He noticed she went back to her usual outfit as he approached. That was unfortunate, but her harpist dress wasn't exactly made for combat.

Since she had yet to notice him, he figured it was the perfect opportunity to pull a ninja appearance. As quietly as possible, he walked up to her. The hunter watched her thank the stall owner, then he struck.

"Howdy!"

Arriet jumped and turned to see Mitchell smirking at her. She pouted. "Really, Mitchell. You shouldn't scare a girl like that."

"Sorry, Arriet," Mitchell grinned, not at all sorry. "I just couldn't help myself when I saw ya."

The harpist huffed before finally smiling. "Oh well then. Seems I can't stay mad at you. Do you need something? I have to get back to my patrol soon."

"I just wanted to run somethin' by ya, real quick," the American replied. "After hearin' your performance yesterday, I had an idea. I've got something from back home I wanna show ya later, if you're interested."

"Something from your home? Oh, I am quite interested," the girl hummed, a curious look on her face.

"Awesome. So, uh, here's the thing," Mitchell said, trying not to be awkward. "Can you meet me by the front gate later? I was thinking we could just, y'know, find a nice place to talk and stuff."

Arriet smiled happily. "Of course! I look forward to it."

"Well that's what I like to see!" Mitchell grinned. "I'll see ya there, then."

"Yes. Until then," she nodded, smiling. She gave him a wave as she strode away with a slight sashay.

The American felt excitement coarse through him. He walked with noticeable pep to his post at the front gate. Mikhail gave him a raised brow at seeing him so chipper, but said nothing.

More hours of standing guard passed with nothing of note happening. The boredom was mitigated by the fact that he was going to hang out with Arriet later. There was also the fact that Mikhail was very good at I spy, the smug bastard.

But there was one thing that caught both guards' attention. One of the merchants and their entourage had shared some fairly worrying news. They had heard nothing from the force sent to retake Rondell since they passed through town yesterday. That was strange, considering Rondell was at least three days away on horseback. Mitchell remembered only the leader had a horse so they were forced to march on foot. So why did they lose contact so fast?

Aside from that ominous piece of news, their shift ended without issue yet again. The American knew he was pretty lucky so far.

Finally, the time came to meet up with Arriet. Mitchell noticed her approaching from the main street and descended the stairs to meet her.

"Hey there," Mitchell greeted. "Your day go smoothly?"

Arriet hummed. "I managed to get through my dull day, thanks to a certain someone stirring my curiosity over this mystery item they wanted to show me."

"Well, if that's the case, why don't we head out then?" The hunter replied, gesturing to the gate. "I noticed that there's a nice spot near the lakeside we could use. To be honest, I think you'll like what I have to show ya."

"Then by all means! Let's go!"

With that, the guards let them through, warning them to be inside by sundown. The duo walked a few minutes alongside the lake in companionable silence to the spot Mitchell selected. It was a simple, grassy spot under an oak tree in front of the sprawling lake. To their right was the river that fed into the lake.

Arriet made her appreciation known. "This is a lovely spot to relax. Nice choice."

"That's the thing about huntin'." Mitchell replied, a good-natured smile on his face. "You find some beautiful areas while you're out and about lookin' for the right place to set up."

They sat down under the tree, looking out over the lake where the sun dipped toward the horizon.

After a moment, Arriet turned to him. "So what is this item you wanted to show me? Come now, don't keep me waiting!"

The American smirked. "Well, since you're so eager…" he pulled out his phone from his back pocket, performing an ostentatiously grandiose gesture. "Behold! My Motorola G8 plus! 'Tis a wonderful device that can do damn near everythin'. Take a good look, Arriet. This is the only one of its kind here."

The girl gave the phone a very curious look, then looked back at the American in askance. Mitchell could almost see the question mark above her head.

The hunter launched into explaining what the phone does and how it works, savoring Arriet's shock at such a wondrous device. When he mentioned that he had music on it, the girl's eyes lit up.

"This small device plays music?" Arriet wondered. "Could you play some? Oh, I simply must hear music from your homeland!"

"Already ahead of ya," Mitchell said, accessing his downloaded music playlist. "I got a whole list of songs for ya."

The American showed her a broad range of songs. From Bleeding Me and No Leaf Clover by Metallica, I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston, Take Me Home Country Roads by John Denver, and his personal favorite, Big Iron by Marty Robbins.

Needless to say, Arriet was absolutely enthralled. She was blown away by the sheer range of music from his homeland.

"So... whaddya think?" Mitchell asked, enjoying the awestruck look on the girl's face. He put away his phone, considering that his battery wouldn't last forever. "I've been meanin' on showing ya this for awhile, but I forgot with all the stuff that's been happenin'."

The harpist smiled beautifully. "What do I think? I think it's wonderful! There is so much range to your music I don't even know where to begin! In fact, this has given me so many ideas for new songs! Thank you so much for showing me this!"

The American shrugged, blushing slightly. "No problem. I was kinda hopin' you'd get some inspiration from it, so there ya go."

"I most certainly have gotten inspiration. Oh, I can't wait to play again," Arriet smiled happily.

With that, their thoughts drifted as a comfortable silence overtook the duo. Mitchell was quite satisfied that he had helped inspire Arriet in this way. As they mused silently, the American had a sudden odd, yet curious thought.

"Hey Arriet," Mitchell said suddenly. The girl looked over curiously. "You said you knew that puffed up peacock from yesterday. Is there a story there?"

The girl grew a bit sober at that. "Yes, there is. It goes back years."

"You don't have to answer, y'know. I understand if this is personal to ya."

"No, no, you've shared so much about yourself so it's only fair I do the same," Arriet said thoughtfully. She turned and gave him a warm smile. "Besides, I feel like I can call you a friend. I don't mind at all."

Mitchell was struck hard by such sincerity. He could only nod in agreement. The harpist gathered her thoughts as she began.

"I was once a Hero of the Order of the Ice Flower," she revealed with a nostalgic look. "I have always been proficient with the blade, since even my childhood. Despite music being my utmost passion, the art of the sword—a tool of death—came so naturally to me that it was almost a joke. It was this proficiency that the Order was interested in, so when I came of age, they came to give me my training to become a Hero blessed by the Chief God." She took a breath, sighing. "I was taken to Castle City Salvarision, where I was trained and raised under knighthood until my sixteenth birthday."

Mitchell watched, listening with rapt attention as she looked out over the lake, reminiscing.

"I served with honor and distinction for years," Arriet continued, shaking her head at something. "I took lives in the name of humanity and the Chief God. Both human and mamano. I did so with great pride and faith in my heart—all of my friends in the Order of the Ice Flower did. It was the year I turned twenty years old that my faith was tested. A good friend of mine, Lady Fullmoon, had returned from a mission one day stricken and traumatized. Naturally, I was worried, so I went down to visit her in her orphanage in the city proper."

She frowned, as if recalling an unwanted memory. "I had never visited the city proper. I only ever lived in the upper districts, so you can imagine my shock to see my fellow countrymen living in such squalor. For the first time, it opened my eyes to the truth of how the world truly was. But of course it didn't register for me, because I knew what was best for others." She had a scowl of self-reproach. "How arrogant I was… At any rate, when I asked Lady Fullmoon what had happened, she broke down right there in front of me. She confessed everything. Confessed how she was ordered to purge an entire village of innocents for their affiliation with the resident mamano. Confessed how this mission was the breaking point for her in a long line of transgressions. She revealed that she had been disillusioned with the Order for a long while and seeing the corruption and greed in the nobility and church had left her bitter and tired. What I heard that day shook my entire worldview. I left her there with nary a word. How could I say anything to comfort her? What could I say?"

She looked over to see Mitchell looking out over the lake with a thoughtful frown on his face, eyes narrowed.

"Doubt plagued me after that day. My faith and resolve for the cause was shaken, and to be quite honest, I was scared. Had I been lied to? Instead of a noble cause, had I been killing and serving in the name of greed and self-interest for all those years? I didn't know and that terrified me. I continued to aimlessly serve regardless, for what else could I do?"

Arriet sighed, a hint of sorrow on her visage. "Three months after my visit with Lady Fullmoon, I received a mission to track down a traitor to the cause. I've never received a mission like this one before so I didn't know what to expect. Whatever I was expecting, I certainly did not expect my target to be a former Hero, now a Salamander. Her name was Millabeth Amiria. My task was to deal with her. While my faith was shaken, I still followed my orders like a good girl. We fought to the death right there in a field of white flowers under a bright full moon. As we crossed swords, she revealed everything they made her do as a "Hero". Assassinations, blackmail, extortion, bribery, the list went on. My resolve faltered with every word, but I thought she would kill me if I relented so I continued the duel against my heart's wishes. I saw my chance to finish it when she overextended with a wide strike and I quickly dealt the killing blow. It turned out to be a feint of course—she managed to wound me as she died. And when she died, so did my faith."

She continued, a look of sobriety on her face. "As I lay there bleeding in that field awaiting my death filled with regrets, a banshee approached me. Against all my expectations, she healed me instead of carrying my soul to Hel's realm. I asked her why. Why would she heal me, a notorious monster slayer, instead of getting rid of me? I remember her words even now. She told me, 'We merely follow our instincts. We love, We mourn. It is not your time yet.' She took Millabeth's soul and departed without another word."

Arriet gave a bit of a resolved look. "It made me wonder, why couldn't I follow my own heart like that banshee? My instincts told me what I was doing was wrong yet I was content to ignore it. Well, no longer. I made a decision that night to always follow my heart no matter what. I returned to my superiors and told them all exactly what I thought of them, consequences be damned. No longer would I work for the self-indulgent, the corrupt, the greedy."

The harpist gave Mitchell a sheepish smile. "Of course, this would have dire consequences for myself. I was publicly shamed, stripped of my Hero title, excommunicated from the Order of the Ice Flower, and declared an apostate. My friends in the Order wanted nothing more to do with me. My name is spoken of with disdain in many Order cities and I am no longer welcome. My only option left for any sort of life was the frontier. Thankfully, Lady Fullmoon mentioned this town to me as I was leaving Salvarision. When I arrived, they welcomed me with open arms. I've been here ever since."

When Arriet finished her story, she noticed Mitchell still looking out at the lake with a blank, solemn look. She watched as he got to his feet and strode forward, stopping a few feet away with his hands on his hips.

Mitchell sighed deeply. That was quite a lot to take in. He turned around to face Arriet, running a hand over his quarter-inch hair.

"Lemme say somethin' real quick, 'cause I feel like this needs to be said," he began slowly. "You served these people for years, gettin' blood on your hands, and this is what you get? Just...gettin' tossed aside? Yeah, no, pardon my language, but fuck that and fuck them. You don't have a single goddamn thing to feel bad about. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that what you just told me cements one thing in my mind. You're a wonderful girl. A girl who didn't let this world change her—didn't let them change her. You stuck to your guns and stayed true to yourself and damn if you aren't a better person than everyone else around here, me included. These people look up to ya. You can see it plain as day." He gestured to her. "Even with your distaste for fightin', you still offered those skills to protect them. I think that says more about you than any words can."

Mitchell looked the girl dead in the eyes. "You have my respect, Ettie, and I'm glad I can call you my friend."

Arriet stared wide-eyed for a long moment, then slowly smiled as her eyes watered. "Thank you. You as well, Mitch."

The heartfelt moment lasted a moment longer before they both heard galloping. The duo looked over to see an Order soldier riding furiously towards the town. That wasn't the worrying part, however.

They could see a small group of various winged mamano chasing the man. They halted in the skies at the sight of the town. After a long, ominous moment, they quickly swooped back towards the wilderness.

The harpist and the hunter looked at each other worriedly.

"Oh no…"

"Oh dear…"

They quickly gathered their things and headed to the gate, the guards opening it without prompting.

The mamano had found Toulouse.

A/N: Holy shit, I'm getting more attention for this than I was expecting. Hope y'all like it, 'cause I've been burning the midnight oil on this one.Obligatory thanks for my Beta/Editor Sir Yeetus Deletus. You're the fucking man.Y'all check his shit out. He's got the best Doom/DxD crossover on this site, no joke.Anyways, enjoy. Later on.