Disclaimer: See the prologue, people.

Chapter 3: Friends

The blue-haired boy felt his insides flip over as he gazed down into the turbulent inhabitants down below. The people looked no larger than his fingernails from his watery view, running wildly through the streets in frenzy. The hunters and archers swiftly dashed about, falcons following them faithfully. The populace didn't let the long-ranged specialists handle all the action though – most are wielding crude clubs, pitchforks, spades and knives, brandishing them riotously. Murderously. There were frenzied shouts, feverish screams and chaotic battle cries from one end of the town to the other. Nobody noticed a young boy standing hazardously at a windowsill high above them.

A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the scene, the roaring thunder making the young boy jump from his perilous place. He had fortunately grabbed the window frames when he felt his bare feet leave the windowsill. He gave a fearful look behind him. The decrepit room had disappeared into an impenetrable wall of fire. He set his frightened blue eyes back at the scene many feet below him. He had always hated heights. But jumping down from a window has better chances of survival than being burned to death, isn't it?

After all, he has nothing to lose.

As another sheet of lightning streaked through the overcast skies, he felt his fingers loosen its grip from the rickety wood.

It was unusually dark even if his eyes were closed. His body ached terribly, his mind still numb. His lethargic eyes refused to open. But the pain didn't come from what it is supposed to come from. It didn't come from plummeting down a window. It was something like of being knocked out. He tried to move his legs, but he found out that he cannot even feel them anymore. Wake up, you crazy fool, he told himself blearily, now look what happened to you…

His brilliant ultramarine blue eyes gradually opened. It wasn't wholly different from having eyes closed. The place was dark and has a strangely heavy air of…negativity. It didn't certainly felt like the town. This is too quiet to be the place where he grew up.

'Now what…?' His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as the aching fully woke him up. The only thing he could do is breathe. The stone floor was cold and rough and littered with rough and uneven stones. He could feel them under his hands and head, jabbing his skin. He could finally make out blurry, indistinct outlines of ancient stonework. Raising his head to look around, he realized that a large boulder had fallen across his legs, effectively trapping them. He looked at it with disbelief for a split-second before he dropped his head back to the cold rough pavement. How come he's here? What happened?

What…?

"Fiel…hey, buddy…"

Fiel stirred and slowly shook his head to remove the drowsiness. 'One of those dreams again…' he mentally remarked as he opened his eyes. He occasionally had them from time to time, but he never really cared about it.

"Come on, if you're sleepy, don't sleep while sitting…"

Groaning weakly, the priest fully opened his stunning ultramarine blue eyes. The altar first came into view, bathed in dim light from the flickering candles. The rows of shiny wooden pews ahead were empty. Looking around, he finally faced a slightly irked young woman with dark brown hair and reddish blue-violet eyes.

"What's up with you, sleeping around inside chapels!" she hissed intensely, glaring at him. Fiel mentally winced at her expression. She looks ready to eat him. "And to think you're a priest…"

"Fine, so it was absolutely lame of me," he hastily said in apology. "But what's with the holiness in you today…it certainly doesn't fit you…" He promptly silenced as Franzes gave him a weak bout on the head.

"So Arvin isn't back from Morocc yet?"

The hallways of the Darkhaven castle were bathed in golden afternoon light. Bright rays filtered through the crystal clear windows, illuminating the large dignified portraits hanging on the wall. Yet even with the apparent sunny glow, everyone knows that the estate still has its enigmatic and furtive quality. Visitors were often 'intimidated' with its splendor and forbidding ambience, making them hesitant to return. Maybe it was in the way how the shadows still retain their dominance even with the sunlight present or how every piece of furniture is shrouded with mystery. But for Fiel and Franzes, a couple of visits were enough to dispel all apprehension.

"Yep, and Khal's going there to search for him," Franzes replied, looking at a large picture of an ancient and stern looking sage at her right. 'Man, it's hard to imagine that people like these were Khal and Rived's ancestors…' Save for the prominent red hair, the sage had nothing in common with her friends. She immediately shook the thought off.

"I suppose she got a bit hesitant to wake you up in the chapel, so she ran off to find Feid instead." She glared at him again. "It's supposed to be meditation, not a sleeping session. And don't try telling me again that sanctity looks ghastly on me, because I do have a faith, thanks to you and Jelan's holy influences."

"Fine, so I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the priest repeated with a repentant tone. "But you made me work worse than a pecopeco last night, I was so tired. It's partly your fault, you know-"

"Well, if you haven't returned the books back at the shelves yesterday, we wouldn't spend the whole night relocating them and the documents between their pages!" Franzes fired back at him, pulling his waist-long ponytail. Fiel let out a pained 'ouch'. It's always a plaything for her. "Get my point?"

"I get it." He mumbled weakly. Franzes finally let go of her vice grip on his ponytail. To prevent any more yanking of his hair, which always brought pain, he untied the thin strip of cloth tying it. The silky silvery blue hair freely cascaded down his back, accentuating his fair skin and attractive face. He looked feminine and masculine all at once, with his refinement and slim form.

"Khallian even had my deviruchi with her." Franzes told him casually, trying her best to ignore the chilling looks of the portraits of ancient Darkhavens and the cold austerity of the busts lined along the hallway. She always thought that the artists and sculptors commissioned by the family were sort of disturbed people to create 'art' the arctic way. "Even though Morocc looks worse than Glastheim, it's still labyrinthine. The high wizard could blow half of the damn city's population if she's going to search for him like a hair strand in a sand dune."

"Implausible. Arvin would've already killed more than half of the city by now, or it's already blown off the map."

"Nah, I don't think so. The guy is still bound by some manners."

"I feel a bit of regret of warping him there."

"You feel like an instrument of murder? Yeah, right."

"Not that one. Knowing Arvin, he could've already fainted from the desert sun. I bet he forgot a butterfly wing."

"Exactly. And I thought I was the only one suffering from absent-mindedness."

"Don't worry, it wasn't as worse as before. I still remember the times when you accidentally use my-"

A murderous glare from her quickly silenced him. A single word isn't worth the risk.

"Thankfully, we almost have the same waistline, so it wasn't that loose." She remarked through gritted teeth.

"Okay, that thing's cogs are loose!"

Eleris Oranir carefully aimed the silver-tipped arrow at the alarm's mask. Licking her lips, she let go of the projectile and watched it zip through the heavy air. The arrow hit the target with such force that it completely shattered the mask. The alarm ambled sluggishly for a moment before it finally fell with a crash.

"Rai! How are things?" She called out boisterously, automatically taking another silver arrow from her quiver. The engaged answer came from her far right.

"A bit fine, thanks!"

Raian Gaviel clenched his teeth as he ducked to avoid a deathblow from his alarm. Several gashes marked the monster's bizarre body, but it still deals its punches effectively. With his slight physique, a few blows could render him unconscious. Gripping his trusty two-hand axe tighter, he forcefully swung the heavy weapon towards the slash-riddled body of the alarm. He felt the powerful blade splintering the wood and crushing the mechanisms inside it. He kicked the monstrosity away with all his strength to free his axe. It doesn't look anywhere near collapsing into a heap though.

"Want some help?" Eleris offered with a sneering laugh, aiming at the alarm. Raian snorted at her proposal.

"Thanks for the concern, but it is hideous coming from you!"

The huntress looked incredibly insulted – almost ridiculously insulted – at the statement. The alchemist grinned at himself and launched another attack at the alarm before it assaults him first. His hits had started to take effect – the alarm could barely stand straight. But its wildly swinging arms could still knock the air out of him. Evading them yet again, Raian raised the two-hand axe high above him and brought it down with crushing force. The blow struck the alarm near its mask and lacerated it downward, exposing its broken mechanic interior. At that moment, a silver-tipped arrow whizzed through the air and struck the alarm's immaculate mask. Raian frowned at the intrusion and looked at Eleris menacingly over his shoulder.

"Well, it's basically over, so it doesn't do anything, right?" she stated innocently, shrugging. Raian rolled his eyes.

"Whatever."

The alarm collapsed in a dramatic manner after his word.

Clock Tower, although notorious for its labyrinthine passageways and scary interior of clocks and cogwheels, never failed to attract a lot of 'tourists'. Actually, 'tourists' are either the adventurers who sought the thrill of the tower or the sages who try to find out more of its secrets. Although it was everyday plagued with overzealous spellcasters accidentally hitting mechanisms instead of monsters and warriors with poor aims, the tower has amazingly endured all ill-treatment humans had gave it.

"They're not here." Eleris said, looking slightly crestfallen and biting her lip. "Anyone there, Rai?"

Raian emerged from the shadows and shook his head. "All I saw were skeleton bones. Unless decomposition goes here at a faster rate, it's not them."

"What's up with kids nowadays, going to places way beyond their capabilities!" the huntress said anxiously. "Raian, at least you could've warned them as someone older and wiser!"

The alchemist merely frowned at her as he dusted himself. "I did. They didn't listen. Is that still my fault?" He coolly walked past her, deliberately ignoring her blazing orange eyes. "Besides, back when we're also 'kids' we considered the pyramids of Morocc to be a playground."

Eleris stormily trailed after him, her naturally loud voice reverberating back eerily. "We had Fiel, Feid, Khal, Zes and Jelan – two acolyte prodigies, a suicidal swordsman, a trigger-happy wizard and a merchant who could swing an axe faster than a lumberjack. With those people around, the pyramids looked safer than Prontera at night-"

"You forgot another merchant who could concoct acids ever since novicehood and an archer with a four-eyed aim."

The huntress rolled her eyes. "Whatever. And I normally don't wear glasses. It was for fashion reasons."

"First time I knew you had one."

Eleris seriously looked murderous for a split-second. Huffing loudly, she quickly snatched Raian's glasses from the bridge of his nose.

"Of course I have one, you moron!"

Raian consciously ignored her again. It didn't seem to matter to him whether he has his glasses or not.

"If you call your hairstyle a fashion, then I might as well call rags as the latest fad."

The huntress flushed at the reference, but she decided not to answer. The longer this argument drags on, the more she'll get irritated. Raian is the best annoyer in their little group – and his favorite subject is Eleris. Their fights could range from a short exchange of taunts to a week-long indifference. It was often a source for entertainment for their other friends, who often serve as mediators if they ever get into a more serious fight.

"Raian Gaviel, you're going to regret the day you met me." Eleris hissed venomously, pocketing Raian's glasses. Her mind began to devise convoluted plans of revenge, ranging from making him a target practice up to pushing him from the tower's ledges. Raian simply disregarded her threat and continued to walk superlatively unconcerned.

"Ah well, am I so afraid." Inside though, Raian could barely control himself from laughing out loud. Eleris is the best person in the world to infuriate, and he has succeeded in doing so. Jelan was simply to saintly to get mad, while Zes could either ignore him completely or chop him to pieces. Fiel 'good-naturedly' snubs every word. Eleris, on the other hand, would surely get barmy and shout her head off, but she never resorts to violence to settle matters.

"I'll just take further notice of your little threat outside, when we've found our little friends."

The huntress scowled heavily, but realized that a party of acolytes and mages weigh more than an argument about fashion sense.

"And you'll see how little my threat is."

"Any luck finding anything on A Treatise on the Supremacy of Magic?"

Franzes grunted as she stood on her toes, trying to return a thick tome with a ridiculously long title. The bookshelves are three feet taller than she is, and since she dislikes resorting to high heels to improve her mediocre height, it often presents a problem.

Fiel rolled his eyes. Franzes always tries to do things by herself, even if she looks quite absurd doing so. Standing up from his plush sofa and setting aside his moth-eaten book, he wordlessly took the tome from her hands and effortlessly returned it back to its proper place. The blacksmith secretly glared at him but dropped it soon enough to go unnoticed.

"Sadly, there's nothing in that one." He answered, going back to his seat. He grabbed another book from a nearby table and began flicking through the pages, looking for unusual pieces of parchment between them. "Are you sure that's the same bookshelf we scanned yesterday?"

"Dead sure." She said absentmindedly, pulling a random book from a lower shelf. "Okay…so out of thirty papers, we already had…"

"Twenty-five."

Franzes gave a little smile. "Okay, five more to go."

Looking at the young blacksmith beyond his A Genealogy of the Wizard and Sage Clans of Juno, Fiel thought Franzes must've been such a dedicated daughter to actually find the writings her father discovered and treasured.

"What do you plan with the documents your dad had hidden?"

He saw Franzes lift an eyebrow in thought. "Maybe I'll study it."

"You'll return to forging?"

Franzes closed the book with a sharp snap. The shimmering red depths of her multicolored eyes glimmered with an unknown edge. "I said 'study'."

Fiel decided not to follow the topic further. He had always known her better than anyone, being her constant unofficial 'partner'. Forging had always been a sensitive subject for her. Lowering his eyes to the barely legible text, he reminded himself that it would probably take a long time before she becomes interested in forging again. But there's a good chance she would never forge again, after all the mess she's been through in the name of the 'noble art.' There are those who just put too much value in forging that they forget people around them…

"Ah well…enough forging stuff," Franzes murmured, returning her present book and attempting to reach another volume at a higher shelf. She grasped the tip of the spine. "I think I remember this book from yesterday." Pulling it by the lower spine, the book came free, but she lost her hold on it. Fiel instantly put down his weighty digest as he heard a restrained 'ouch'.

"Zes?" he said concernedly, quickly coming towards her. A hefty book was on the carpeted floor, lying on its pages. Franzes was right beside it, a hand over her forehead. She was biting her lower lip as she replied.

"Aw, it's nothing…a book just hit me on the head." She said in a casual voice, but it didn't stopped Fiel from approaching her. Man, he is sure my personal nurse.

"You never learn, do you?" The priest chastised mildly, gently taking off her hand over the spot where the book hit her. The blacksmith was almost reluctant to do so, but consented. He laid a hand over the nasty-looking bruise and Franzes felt the warm energy closing the wound. She thought in enjoyment that she is sure lucky not only to have a best friend and a personal nurse, but a handsome best friend and personal nurse at that. Many women in Prontera would do anything to be in her shoes. Sorry ladies, I know his tastes. And it certainly doesn't include women who publicly give him smoldering looks or seek all sorts of elaborate ways to get his attention. It's a form of entertainment for her to watch girls fawning over him, and his funny reactions when they start doing so.

"Next time, if you want to pick anything beyond your height, please call me," he told her, ruffling her hair. Franzes let out a cry and before she could hit his hand, he had withdrawn it, laughing. If there's one thing she hates to get messed up, it's her hair. She could get a bit rough and unladylike, but she beats hairstylists when it comes to hair consciousness.

"Fiel, I'll seriously give you a hair torture if I do get my hands on you!" she declared heatedly, trying to flatten the wild strands.

"Well, if you're really going to get your hands on me, why not?"

"Fiel Esteven, are you challenging me?"

Fiel grinned sneeringly. Franzes wickedly glared.

Neither of them noticed that the old book on the floor had an old yellowed piece of parchment between the whiter pages of the tome.

"Where are Eliria and Vailtren when you need them?"

Raian obviously meant it to annoy Eleris. The latter stoically ignored it. The clump of acolytes and mages behind them looked at them with interest. The moment they came to 'take them out' up to now, they had been exchanging short bouts of taunts every now and then. The words range from minor jeers up to loud curse words that make them flinch. One still has to show signs of giving up though, and neither of them looks ready to admit defeat.

"Well, yeah…where is Eliria and Vailtren?" a blonde acolyte quietly asked the orange-haired mage besides him. Eliria, Vailtren and Raian are 'patrons' of the Clock Tower and have befriended many people in their escapades, including the younger ones who venture inside. Sometimes the trio accompanies these 'children' inside, just for the sake of fun.

"Haven't you heard? A few close friends of the two had been killed here a few days ago."

"Well, the only friend I know Miss Sage and Wiz guy had is Acid Man."

"But we didn't know that Acid Man had a new girlfriend-"

"Girlfriend? More like a wife, judging from the way they talk-"

"If Rai's Acid Man, then she's-"

"Curse Arrow, yeah…she's streaming out curse words faster than a soul strike anyway."

They giggled. A bit too loudly.

A piercing glare from 'Curse Arrow' made them bite their tongues.

'Children! Those kids are totally out of their minds!' The huntress thought resignedly, returning her gaze back at the gloomy path ahead. They must've forgotten she has keen hearing and had heard every single word – every damn word. 'Girlfriend? Wife? For the sake of my dignity, that's impossible.' She has no intention to be included in his girlfriend collection. 'Not with Acid Man! Never!'

'But…well, he has the looks to support that ridiculous collection of his,' she mused, shooting a furtive glance at the alchemist. He had a youthful, smooth face and prominent spiky black hair that stood up at all directions. Pale lightning blue eyes were charming behind black-rimmed glasses.

'Get off it. He always looks like that.'

Giving her head a little shake, she again disregarded the bee-like whispers behind her and the terribly upsetting presence of Raian nearby. 'Don't get hypnotized by his damn looks! You wouldn't want to be the twenty-third girl, right, Elle?'

The small, tapering light ahead made her fiery orange eyes squint. 'Oh good…we're nearly outside. I could finally vent my anger on him unrestrained.' She fingered the slim frame of the glasses inside her pocket. 'I have something good against him. Rai couldn't possibly identify a person more than three feet away without his glasses.' Eleris had to suppress a wicked grin. The image of Raian – the calm and composed one – looking all too confused and bumping into lampposts was quite amusing. 'Don't worry Raian; you're going eat everything you said.'

Eleris couldn't help giving a glare at the blonde acolyte as the latter waved a goodbye outside the tower.

"Well Raian," she said coolly, facing the alchemist with an unflappable face. "We have found our little friends, and our threat is now over."

Raian looked at her with the same irritatingly serene expression. Eleris couldn't help feeling irked at his face. "So?"

"Payback."

The alchemist looked thoughtfully innocent for a second. "Ah, alright. I remember. What are you going to do anyway? Use me for target practice?"

Eleris brought out his black-rimmed glasses and waved it in front of his face. Her countenance was smugly triumphant. "I'll make you wish things would become clearer."

Much to her secret dismay though, he doesn't look at the very least worried. He simply gazed at the pair of glasses with mild interest. "Oh, that." He put on another irritatingly innocent face. Eleris is sure he is doing it on purpose, just to annoy her. "That's why I could barely recognize that face of yours."

"Acting superior won't do you any good, honey," the huntress said, the aggravation in her tone barely hidden. "Just a nice apology would do, and these glasses are all yours."

Raian gave an audible snort. "In your dreams, love." Apology? To you? Raian never loses an argument to Eleris. Well…maybe once or twice, but he always emerges out as the winner in most of their wrangles. It takes more to force me to apologize, Elle. Dream on, sweetie.

Eleris was about to retort when Raian extracted something from a small bag on his belt. She gave an irate gasp. The moron! He's ready for every situation!

"It pays to be ready all the time," the alchemist said airily, pushing the black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. They were identical to the ones Eleris had in her hand. "Sorry Elle. Glasses aren't exactly that expensive." He gave a restrained chuckle. "Anything more?"

The outrage in Eleris' voice helped to catch the attention of passers-by. Many turned their heads towards the commotion while a few raised their eyebrows in disapproval. Raian could feel their derogatory glances boring down on them, but he paid no heed. It doesn't really matter much.

"You freaking damn win for today, Raian Gaviel!"

"You forgot 'again'."

The huntress bit her lip in order to contain her overflowing frustration. Rain Gaviel wins…again!

"Aw, shut up, you womanizing moron! I have enough of your freaking face! Go find some god-damngirlfriend for the night!"

She crossly left, her face resembling a full-fledged storm. People stepped back as she passed, throwing critical looks at her back, but no one had the guts to openly tell her. A handful glanced questioningly at the dark-haired alchemist whom the huntress had shouted upon. They were surprised to see him calm and composed as though nothing happened.

"Ah, women," he whispered to himself resignedly. It seems like he overestimated her patience. "I guess she's going to drown herself in whiskey again." And a drunken Eleris is going to be a real pain to get along with. I'd better find her before she begins a frenzied target practice.

The customers quite liked the 'new look' of their young bartender.

"Those glasses fit, Rai."

Raille grinned in appreciation at the comment as he filled the glass to the brim with champagne. His youthful face was reflected in the sparkling liquor, his charismatic amber eyes framed with simplistic yet stylish black-rimmed glasses.

"I just thought of a small change in appearance," he explained amiably, replacing the bottle to its proper place. "I guess you people are getting bored with my face."

"Nah, you're a nice chap," an elderly townsman commented with a hiccup. "You get along with all kinds of people."

"Well, almost all," interrupted another with a playful beam. "Except for women."

The young hunter gave a small but sheepish smirk. "Aw, come on. Not on that topic again."

"Yeah Raille…look at yourself! You're young and good-looking; you could've had a dozen girlfriends already! But we haven't seen a trace of any girl around you."

"Don't tell me you practice abstinence! I know some priests who have hordes of girlfriends-"

"Come on people," Raille said evenly, twiddling the cap of an empty bottle. "Women aren't my line. I'm incredibly bad with them."

"Try going out more and see how many girls would be groveling at your feet."

Raille tried to imagine, but he couldn't seem to do so. Just a few years more and I could already forget how a woman looks like. Females do not frequent his bar often – that brown-haired lord knight a few days ago was the most recent he could remember. Raille Novensiles, you could become a hermit.

The violent banging of the door brought an end to the conversation. Everyone looked in silence as a young huntress with long blonde hair in braids and ponytails thundered in and directly took the seat in front of Raille. Judging from the way she made an entrance and the way she walked, even a blind man could tell how irritated she is. Nobody dared to ask though – she looked ready to make a pincushion out of anyone.

"Aldebaran whiskey! Roll it!" Eleris snarled at the blonde-haired hunter behind the counter. The customers winced at the hostility in her voice. Raille merely stared at her for a split-second before he complied with her order. Moments later, he gently placed a bottle of Aldebaran whiskey and a tall glass in front of her.

"Here's your order – the famed whiskey." He said with a slightly cheerful voice. She looked up at him with a glare. A few customers feared for the young bartender's life.

Raille wasn't frightened though. The calm and cool countenance was still there, his amber eyes unyielding to fear. "I'll give you a few tips though," he edged closed to her good-heartedly. "If you want to forget something, Payon spirits are better. Aldebaran whiskey doesn't pack the spirits' one-two punch."

There was a second of silence before she replied. "Payon spirits is beyond my tolerance," she answered in a stiff voice. The bartender gave her an easy smile.

"Well then, enjoy the whiskey. I hope it helps."

He walked away from her to chat with the other clients. Eleris couldn't help observing him.

He looks a bit familiar…

Taking a sip of her whiskey, she began to survey the bartender. His shiny blonde hair reached down past his shoulders and tied in a ponytail. Serene amber eyes were bordered with black-rimmed glasses, making him a bit more mature-looking. His youthful, fair face always keeps a pleasing smile which he readily gives to everyone. His every move was easygoing and relaxed, giving him an air of friendliness. Eleris felt the anger slowly slipping away as she gazed longer at him. The bartender was too immersed with his conversations to notice.

I know he looks like someone…I swear I do…

"…can I have another bottle here, Raille?" said a wrinkled old man seated on a corner. "Albertan champagne."

"Sure, just wait a second…I think the ones here are all empty. I'll look at the back."

"Make it quick, Rai. I haven't said the climax of that story!"

The bartender quickly slipped away as the other patrons talked among themselves. Somehow, Eleris felt a little left out. She wasn't used to be alone in bars.

Damn it, I wish I have someone here…

Most of the time, 'someone' meant 'Raian', but due to the traces of aggravation left inside her, she doesn't want to admit it to herself. The alchemist has to say an apology first – nothing less than that, or else he's going back alone and would have to face the interrogations of Jelan and Zes.

And those two employ torture as a means of extracting truth.

But could she last Aldebaran without company? The town isn't exactly her favorite place. The truth is she barely knows it. The only thing to do is go home alone – which is something she doesn't like to do too. It means hiking through the marshes and Mt. Mjollnir alone – not that she couldn't take care of herself, but it would be a long dreary trip, not to mention tiring. That means…she has to approach Acid Man herself.

But if I give up, that means another victory for that idiot. His head is already too inflated.

"Hey Rai! You're taking a lifetime in there!"

Rai? Well, it fits…Raille is Rai…

"Sorry guys! Wait for just a moment."

The door banged open again and everyone's heads turned. A young man with spiky black hair and black-rimmed glasses hastily stepped inside. Eleris felt herself groaning.

Oh great, there's the other Rai now…

"There you are, honey," he said with a faint chastisement, briskly walking towards her. "I've been searching this city upside down for you!"

"Oh suuuuure." Eleris said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Cost you a lot, isn't it? Did it kill you by any chance?"

Raian looked submissive as he gazed directly at her eyes and held her gently at the shoulders. The bar's patrons, who had been whispering among themselves ever since Raille left to fetch the Albertan champagne, suddenly turned silent. Eleris' defenses greatly gave way, but she knew better than to show it to him.

"I'm only going to say this once, and I want a clear answer," Eleris knitted her eyebrows at the alchemist's statement. But before she could react, he had already spoken up.

"Eleris Oranir," Raian said slowly and clearly, as though he wants every single word to have great impact to everyone present. "I'm sorry."

The whole bar was quiet for a few seconds.

Raian actually gave an apology? That's rare.

Eleris sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. At least he had deflated a bit.

"You're forgiven."

Aw man…I wish this could've been longer.

Raian grinned happily at her as he removed his hands from her shoulders. "Good. Now where are my glasses?"

"What's up with your glasses? You're wearing one," she replied with a raised eyebrow. She slipped from her seat and hurriedly walked past him. He briskly followed suite.

"It's none of your business. Just give it back."

She opened the door as she looked over her shoulder to glare at him.

"If you want it back, talk to me nicely. And what's the use? You have glasses!"

"Well…well…" Raian hesitated for a moment. "The glasses I'm wearing right now are the ones I used a couple of years back…and you know my myopia is progressing…"

Eleris beamed at herself. Payback time.

"Where's the huntress here?"

Raille returned from the back room with an armful of Albertan champagne, looking a little pained from the effort.

"Some alchemist guy apologized to her and they just left," piped the elderly man who ordered the champagne. "I think they're lovers, from the way the lad said his apology."

"That explains her long face earlier," Raille grunted as he placed the bottles on a table behind the counter.

"Strange thing is…" said another thoughtfully. "You know what Raille, that alchemist dude looks a little bit like you."

The hunter greatly frowned at the comment, but no one saw it since he was facing away from them, arranging the bottles to their proper shelves. "How come?"

"Well, at first glance, you two are really similar. You even have the same glasses."

Someone who looks like me…

Raille couldn't help smirking.

Interesting.

He again faced his customers, the frown and the smirk absent from his face. The usual warm ambience was there.

"Maybe it's just a bit of coincidence."

"Well, maybe."

He shot a glance at the empty glass and the partly drained Aldebaran whiskey bottle.

"You know Raille, that huntress there was quite a looker," mused another townsman. "She was just in a bad mood."

"I guess so," the bartender said absent-mindedly. Something in the bottle and the empty glass was telling him that something's not right – that something is missing. But what?

"I guess you'll look good -"

A sharp and troubled 'uh-oh' from the hunter disrupted his statement.

"What about it Rai?"

Raille Novensiles looked sheepishly at his customers as he put away the Aldebaran whiskey bottle and the empty glass.

"That huntress forgot to pay."

FINALLY! Chapter 3! I know it was annoyingly long before I had an update, but I swear I was busy! Please bear with me! This chapter still has lots of mistakes, as this was rushed, and so expect some changes.

Chao!

Aizhen