"Who are you?"
The repeated question and shaking woke Bell at last. His last few days had been especially exhausting, and despite Goddess Hestia's insistence, he had not taken any time off to rest. He couldn't, they didn't have enough money for him to take a break.
"I don't want to ask again, who are you?"
Light slowly filled his vision. He felt heavy and sore. His surroundings were also strange. Or, at the very least, not his usual route through Orario proper. A large building behind him cast a shadow over where he sat, and other buildings of various questionable conditions sat off to his left and right. The stone floor below him was also in pretty bad shape. Directly in front of him was...
Bell froze.
There he was again. That adventurer garbed in feathers. Blood was all over him, and the strange helmet seemed even more eerie when soaked as it was. He was a lot less terrifying in the light of the sun, thankfully.
"T-thank you for saving me! I'm B-Bell Crane-"
"Yes, yes, I read your nametag! Who are you really, and how did you come across this?"
The man had a badge dangling from his hand. Red, gold, lions...
Wait a minute...
Bell frantically checked around his neck and pockets. It wasn't there. That meant that-
"Child, don't test my patience. Who are you really? There is no House Cranel,"
"Please give that badge bac-"
The feather-clad adventurer very quickly took a step forward with a hand wrapping around the handle of his sword, startling Bell.
"I will ask this one last time. Who are you really?"
"That badge is Dad's!"
. . . What?
Jack took another look at the worn badge. The gold still gleamed dimly. The red was still vibrant. The engraved words on the back, meant for identifying a knight if they were too torn apart to be recognized, that he had purposefully ignored still glared at him.
Adrian Invana.
No no no no no no no no. I saw him vanish off that cliff edge. It must be... A coincidence! Yes, a large, odd, coincidence!
Jack steeled his expression, even though his face was still covered, and turned back to Bell.
"This badge bears the royal sigil of her majesty Queen Annalise and belongs to a Vileblooded knight of Cainhurst," he tossed it back to Bell, "Where is its owner?"
"Grandpa said Dad died before I was born."
Bell's voice suddenly dropped the intensity from moments earlier.
Jack's shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and he removed his hand from the handle of his precious Chikage. Almost hesitantly, he asked, "Did he leave anything else? Tools, metal parts, or a weapon perchance?"
"That... isn't your business. I thank you for saving me, but I really need to go." Bell's tone was almost sullen, and the child began turning around to leave.
I need to find out.
Jack's hand reached up to his neck and undid the clasp of the black leather cord. The other hand went to the dagger in his belt.
Great. First a minotaur, then his rescuer had brought him to some odd street of Orario and hounded him about his dead father's badge after spouting something that made no sense. His mood had gone from happy to live to irritated and sad in but a few minutes.
"Wait."
Bell kept walking, even if he was sort of lost. And then a hand seized him by the shoulder and spun him around.
His savior was... taking off the unsettling helmet.
Red eyes surrounded by long, white hair in a ponytail, looked at Bell. Familiar facial structures stared back. In his savior's outstretched hand was a blood-red, no, a blade that looked as if it was made of blood! It really didn't feel too out of place though. It smelled very noticeably sickly sweet.
It feels. . . familiar?
Hanging from the point was a spade-shaped badge. A gleaming, well-polished and maintained gold made up the lions, body, and border. A rich, blood-red pigment colored the backdrop of the face. Exactly like... his father's badge.
"Answer my question. I need to know."
He quickly compared the two badges. Aside from one being more polished, the only difference was the foreign writing on the back. When he offered it back, the feather-clad stranger quickly grabbed it.
"I am also a knight of Cainhurst. Tell me if he left anything else behind. Especially a sword like this," the man drew his golden-hilted sword.
A strange feeling welled up inside Bell at the sight of it drawn.
"Did you know him?"
"I don't know. What was his name?"
"I. . . Grandpa never mentioned his name."
Maybe... Could he open it?, "I don't know about any sword, but there's a locked box Grandpa said was from him. It had the same pattern as the badge."
The stranger twitched.
"Show me."
. . . I'll have to see.
"Okay. But I first have to stop by the Guild and talk to and exchange m-"
The stranger very suddenly cut him off, "That can wait. I want to see this box you speak of." Bell opened his mouth to speak but stopped and just nodded. And then he opened his mouth again.
"But... Where are we right now? I've been in Orario for less than a month and I've never been here."
The stranger paused for a moment and looked around.
". . . To the rooftops, then."
"What do you mean 'to the rooft'-AAAAAAAHHHH!"
What am I doing? Why am I being so... informal with him? It makes no sense! I don't know this child. He's weak and slow. Why am I so... concerned about him?
Many thoughts raced through Jack's mind as he threw Bell over his shoulder and jumped up the beams of another nearby unfinished house and onto the rooftop of questionable structural stability. The materials of this one creaked and swayed a lot more than the previous houses he had scaled, probably as a result of the above average building height.
After being set down, Bell had almost immediately looked down over the edge and backed up in a panic.
Jack started looking around, idly noticing an eagle screeching as it flew by before speaking, "Where are your headquarters located, Bell?" Hearing no reply, Jack peered over his shoulder at the panicked boy and sighed, "We'll just go to the plaza."
Jack slid down the one tiled side of the perch he had been on and landed on the rooftop level most flush with the other buildings on the street.
I hope he has a fitting place to stay. I wouldn't dare let any Vileblood live in some dilapidated slum, or blood-forbid, on the street.
"We'll travel on the roofs till we get to the tower, then we'll go to wherever you are located. Keep up; I won't wait for you," Jack took off at what he thought was a relatively slow pace.
Only to realize that Bell was still a few roofs back.
So, Jack stopped and waited for some reason.
I am definitely not acting normal. What is it about this child that's making me be so... considerate? Hes just another Vileblood, and given his inactive blood, clearly born with a human parent!
Bell, panting with exhaustion, landed beside him and spoke, "Please give... Please give a little warning before you do that,"
"I did. I said, 'to the rooftops', did I not?" Bell didn't respond, only focusing on catching his breath. Jack took off again, this time at a walking pace that Bell could keep up with.
General silence reigned for a few minutes, only for Bell to pose a question.
"What is Vileblood? Is it some sort of condition?"
That took Jack by surprise.
"Do you not know what Vileblood is?"
"No, not really. Grandpa taught me a lot, but I've never heard of Vileblood."
Really? Even those blasted Yharnamites knew about the Vilebloods.
"Vileblood is the heritage and birthright of the nobles of Cainhurst. It originally came from the body of a powerful creature and was bound to 13 bloodlines. Her Majesty, the immortal Queen Annalise, is the current inheritor of the first, and most powerful, Vileblood. In me lies the second Vileblood. As a whole, it grants us greater physical abilities than humans, among other things" Jack stopped as he lept from one roof to another. "And in you is a line of Vileblood, but which one, I'm not sure of
I'm not lying, I'm not lying! There is no way this is his kid! I saw him go over that cliff!
"Really? How can you tell? I've never noticed any 'Vileblood', and Grandpa never said anything eithe-" Bell said with a puzzled expression, only for him to land short on a jump, slip, and begin falling back.
Quickly turning on his heel and grabbing Bell by the wrist, Jack answered, "Your scent,"
"My what?"
"Vilebloods smell different than humans. Normally we stick out like a sore thumb, but you seem to have one human parent, so your blood is inactive and your scent weaker. I can fix that."
Starting their movement towards the plaza once more, Jack spoke again, "But for now we should just get a move on."
It was only a couple hours till sunset when Jack and Bell made it to the church where Bell was staying.
The doors were lopsided, and water damaged. The walls and general structure were riddled with cracks and showed a very distinctive lack of care. A few of the windows were shattered and covered with wooden boards. Many of the red roof shingles were in poor condition or simply missing.
It was a slum candidate.
And Jack was very much not impressed.
"This entire building looks as though it could collapse at any moment. Why have you not repaired it?"
"Well, money's pretty tight right now," Bell said while scratching his head, "and the Goddess thinks it's charming."
"It's a safety hazard. A particularly bad storm, blood-forbid an attacking force, could collapse the roof and bury you in rubble without much trouble." Jack returned with a disappointed look. "Now then, the box you spoke of?"
"Oh, right! Right over here," Bell went over to a wall to the right of the altar and pushed it open. "Right down this way."
Oh. That was actually quite well hidden.
Beyond it was a spiraling staircase of wood leading downwards into a medium-sized, rectangular room. A bed was pushed against the far wall on the left, and a sofa was pushed against the wall directly in front of Bell and Jack. A few small chairs were scattered about, and a small table stood in the middle of the room. A few lamps bearing monster crystals were placed in the corners. None of the furniture was very good.
A bed leg was missing, and a stack of books took its place. The few rugs on the stone floor were worn and thin. Sunlight peaked through more holes in the ceiling.
Average for a peasant at best. Downright insulting for a Vileblood!
Switching on a few of the lamps, Bell reached under the couch and dragged out a box. Upon seeing it, Jack narrowed his eyes and took off his helmet.
Heavy, hard wood stained red with metal edges. Emblazoned upon its face was a double lion within a rune used by the Queen to mark high-ranking knights.
Opposite side to the hinges was a clasp with what looked like a small, sheathed dagger attached.
"So. . . Do you know how to open it? I've tried for a while, but haven't figured it out," Bell asked.
Instead of responding with words, Jack took off his left glove and removed the dagger sheath.
Then he cut his thumb on the blade. As the bead of blood trickled down, the lock clicked and came undone. The unoiled hinges squeaked and groaned in protest as Jack lifted the lid.
Held by several small mounts attached to the box itself, a few tools resided, covered in a decent amount of rust. Three small bags filled with unknown contents were held in a corner.
Most noticeable was the sword. It was in pieces, with the silvery, paper-wrapped blade and gray scabbard, which had a curious, trigger-like structure near the top, oriented diagonally across the box. The brown, wood covered handle and red guard were separated and stored in different corners of the box. A piece of rolled up parchment was tucked away under the handle.
The sword looked strange, but... familiar to Bell. It had some similar features to Mister Jack's sword, including the guard's structure, but not many, and the familiarity didn't feel that shallow.
Odd. And why was the lock like that?
"Are those sorts of locks common where you came from Mister Jack? Why did you need to cut your hand?"
Only, Mister Jack didn't respond, retrieving the parts of the sword, as well as one of the tools. A few moments later, he had the thing together. Despite the rusted state of the other metal objects in the box, the sword and scabbard were shiny as if new. If not for the nicks and scratches littering them, Bell would've thought they were new.
"Mister Jack? Hello?"
He still didn't respond, merely staring at the sword for a moment longer before reaching back into the box and grabbing a small bag. From within it, he took out a small metal cylinder. Then he pulled out and back on a lever on the side of the scabbard, which exposed a cavity just the right size for the cylinder.
Then he pulled the lever back into a neutral position and turned away from Bell.
What is that about?
"Mister Jack? What are yo-"
Bell jumped mid-sentence as a harsh bang blasted out from the sword. He fell on his behind and his ears started ringing.
Mister Jack now was holding the sword at the end of a slash. Some traces of a strange, black powder were on the floor, and a pungent smell filled the room.
This. . . This was definitely his. No room for doubt.
But it could've just ended up here somehow and been claimed as a souvenir! Yes, that must've been the case! Only. . .
"Bell."
It took a moment for Bell to realize he had been addressed due to the pain of being next to a loud explosion in a small, enclosed space.
"Bell, take off your gloves and hold out a hand with your palm towards me."
Still dazed from the sudden noise, Bell complied and never noticed the blade swinging towards his hand. It only cut through the top few layers and drew some blood.
But that blood was enough, and a symbol at the base of the blade lit up. Blood flew from Bell's hand and coated the sword edge but didn't extend the blade properly.
Feeling a sudden strain, Bell fell to his knees, breathing heavily in an attempt to gain back strength.
Jack felt his grip on the sword tighten and, strangely, a singular pair of tears out of his eyes managed to escape.
He was here! That buffoon came here somehow, and he had a kid!
Quickly flicking the blade to dismiss the rite, Jack replaced the sword in its scabbard and helped a worn-out Bell to his feet. Memories played through his head as he considered what had been forcefully revealed to him. Just as he was about to hand back the sheathed sword and speak, the door violently burst open.
A girl stood there, her long, black hair swaying as she panted from what was likely exhaustion from running. It took her a moment to complete a sentence.
"What is going on here!?"