The next morning, he sets out from that backstreet inn with Lili in tow. The air is nicer as winter bleeds into spring and it would be a shame to waste the opportunity. He stretches his neck as soon as they step outside, smiling as his cheeks warm beneath the light of the open sky.
He turns to his left, finding his companion still held prisoner by the shadows that the tall roofs cast. That would not do. He sweeps them away with a smile and, when she is still reluctant to come closer, a little bit of force.
"H–Hey!"
Grabbing her by the shoulder of her cloak, he drags her out of the drear and beneath his arm. "Quit being so glum." He gestures to the blue skies and warm sun. "It's a beautiful day, relax a little!"
She glares at him, but—to her credit—makes an attempt to lower her shoulders from her ears. "That's easy for Bell to say. Lili didn't want to ever come back to this city. It's a foul place from which she has no fond memories."
"All the more reason to make some while we're here! It's just like you always say, 'when in Orario, do as the Orarians do!'"
She pulls her hood back to frown at him. "Lili has never said this before in her life."
"Haruhime then."
"Bell should not be saying her name so lightly. The walls have ears," Lili scolds him, but her expression quickly grows more dubious, "And it doesn't really sound like her, either."
His nose scrunches up and he scratches his jaw. "Really?" He thought about it for a moment, but quickly comes to the conclusion that she is probably right. Unfortunately for her, he also realizes something else: "It doesn't matter who said it. The point is we're here, we can't leave just quite yet, so we might as well enjoy the sights. And, lucky for a tourist like me, I've got a local to give me a tour!"
Lili doesn't object to the good natured pat he gives her back, though she did sigh. It's long, possibly annoyed, but mostly defeated. With a short spoken incantation, she calls upon her magic—and long before they emerge onto the main thoroughfare with all its shops and its storefronts and its civilians, a light engulfs her. Then, when it dims, Lili has taken on a new appearance.
White of hair and eyes of green like the lichen which grows upon the oldest and sagest of trees. Both shades are identical to his own. Her cheeks are chubbier and ruddier, however, so she appears more like a young, human girl. Perhaps about five or six years of age.
"Come then, brother," she tells him, flatly, and begins pulling him by his wrist, "We have much to see. Lili wants this done quickly."
Chuckling, he lets her drag him around the city. Together they see the city's adventurer's guild headquarters (the Pantheon, Lili tells him it is called); the colosseum (Amphitheatron); the Twilight Manor (home to the Loki familia, including Aria's daughter); and ending at the city's most famous landmark—the tower of Babel.
The monolith at the city's heart is the tallest structure Bell has ever seen. Mountainous and awful. It dwarfs the substantial plaza that surrounds it by several magnitudes, and himself by a hundred more. A pillar of stone higher than he can see. He tries squinting to spy the top, but it disappears somewhere amidst the sky and sun. Clouds bracket it on every side and it cuts through them like a dagger through flesh, leaving a gouge as they are pushed across the tower's blade.
His breath leaves him as they passed beneath one of the many arched gateways at its foot. He's never seen a thing like it. The sheer exuberance displayed is one thing, but the use of magic stones feels especially exhaustive and extravagant.
Lili, seeing the overwhelmed expression on his face, chooses to take him to the stairs. He wouldn't learn until much later that there is such a thing as an elevator—the power of flight ripped down from the gods and greedily held by the hands of man. It is tremendous and a bit heretical.
"There's nothing like this anywhere else in the world." He's seen much of it already, but nothing has been harder to wrap his mind around than this place.
Lili spares him a glance. "In Altena, perhaps. Or the royal forest. But Bell has very little chance to visit either."
The shops that filled the first several floors are as impressive as anything else he has seen. While there are certainly skilled craftsmen outside these walls, the quality of materials is not something so easily remedied. But here, in the city at the center of it all, there is no such thing as a material embargo. The markets flourish, flush with impressive armaments that beat out his own equipment in both quality and price.
"Lili," he whispers as he eyes a window display case, "Lili, can I see our coin purse?"
She gives a mock display of feeling around beneath her cloak for it before feigning chagrin. "It seems Lili forgot our valis in the inn. She is very sorry." If the little grin she fails to hide is any sign, she's most certainly not. She glances at the item on display and gives him a pitiful look. "Nor does Bell have any use for daggers any more."
"Figures," he mutters, somewhat bitterly. He might have said more, too, if not for the new voice that calls out to them.
"Bell!" He turns, finding Aria smiling and approaching. At only a pace behind her follows her sweet daughter. Even after a year spent traveling across the continent at her mother's side, one of the world's forefront beauties: Ais Waldstein was ethereal enough to strike Bell stupid. "It is good to see you again," she says, dipping around his companion to greet him with a proper hug. Then, as if noticing her for the first time, she turns to Lili with a little gasp. "You didn't tell me you had a younger sister here!"
Seeing said 'younger' sister's eye twitch, Bell quickly intervenes on her behalf. Still, there is no helping the chuckle that escapes him as he informs her, "Aria, this is Lili."
"Truly?" Her eyes widen as she takes her in, holding her at an arm's breadth. "I know you told me she had transformation magic, but to see it with mine own eyes … Liliruca, it really is something spectacular. I'd have thought you were his daughter had I not known any better."
Lili, hating that, kicks Bell's foot in displaced anger and shakes her head. He yelps suddenly at the impact, drawing Aria's daughter's attention; she tilts her head to the side, causing her hair to slip and cascade down over her shoulder. Somewhere across the way, a distracted man ran straight into a shop's sign out front, tumbling heel over head into the stone floor. Bell couldn't even blame him.
Aria's laughter is like the wind. Soft and quiet and beautiful. "Never change, Liliruca," she says through it. And it lasts until she releases Lili's shoulders with a soft, affectionate squeeze. "Ah, Ais." She pulls the young woman forward until she stands before her mother. Aria quickly fixes the hairs that went astray, tucking half the mass behind Ais's ears, before gesturing to himself then his companion. "These two are Bell and Liliruca, they were the ones who—"
Lili cuts in before Aria could say anything they weren't ready to have revealed. She jumps up and down and seamlessly plays the part of an excitable little sister. There's no doubt he'd be getting hell for this later. "Big brother Bell was the one who helped her find her way around the city! Miss Aria was getting all kinds of turned around and we were finishing up our lunch, so Bell showed her the way to your home!" Privately, he winces. In an attempt to spare Aria the embarassment, he'd neglected to tell Lili about what happened the night before. He prays he does not regret it now.
Ais's eyes flick between his face and her mother's over her shoulder: Aria is gracious enough to smoothly nod her head in agreement with the lie, even if she doesn't quite understand the reason for it. "Yes. They were a great help. True and honest Orario natives." Then, simply because she can't help it, she tacks on a quick, "They were like heroes to me."
Ais turns her head to look at them both, as if sizing each one up, before offering up a single nod. "Thank you." Her face is largely inexpressive, but her tone hopelessly earnest. Bell finds himself smiling softly at her even as he murmurs the 'of course' that naturally follows. More than anything, he is grateful she chooses not to question why she found Aria at a tavern rather than their manor.
"Say," Aria calls their attention away from the sparkling daughter, "Bell, Liliruca? Ais and I were just headed to a cafe here for some brunch, would you care to join us? We'd love the company."
He glances to Lili, who'd evidently named herself their master of moneys, and receives her approval in the form of a solitary nod. She has almost certainly lied about the coin purse, and this is all the proof he needs. Ais, too, seems hardly opposed to the idea; but she could simply be hiding her reservations better.
"Sure," he smiles at Aria, "That sounds like a great idea."
They circle around the shops at the center of the tower to the opposite side and find a table in the gardens. Although Ais leads the charge, it is Lili who choses a seat first—one with a clear view of the patio around them. Bell goes to sit down beside his friend, but is suddenly body-checked out of the way by Aria's hip. Only by his own honed reflexes is he barely able to save himself from tripping over his own feet and crashing to the floor. He blows some hair out of his eyes and shoots the older woman a bizarre look that she deliberately ignores.
Ais doesn't seem to think anything of the exchange at all and chooses the seat across from her mother, leaving Bell to fill the only one remaining: the seat directly beside Ais. The other two engage one another in quiet conversation, shooting sly looks toward them as often as they're able. Bell doesn't quite understand what's happening; it's not malicious, though, so he runs with it.
"It's a lovely day to be out," he says first, before immediately turning away to wince in private. Idle conversation is not a strength he can claim, a fault of only having a few friends. Something Lili liked to remind him of, frequently and often.
The floor they are on is not entirely enclosed. In place of large windows, there stands considerable arches and fine stone balustrades. Old runes are carved into their surfaces, just as they are carved into that of every other surface in the building. Ancient magics are at work in the tower, you can feel it in the air.
Ais hums an agreement and flutters her eyes to a close as winds curl gently around their group, embracing their party like a mother would her child. "It is."
He racks his brain for a question to follow. The only one he can find is just as uninventive as the one before. "What do you like to do on days like these?"
Her head cocks to the side as she considers him, chin in palm, and some of her golden hair slides across her cheek, tickling it. She takes it and tucks it behind her ear as her lips lift in the faintest of smiles. Her eyes flicker to the pair across the table. He knows she isn't looking at Lili. "I wouldn't know. I haven't had a day like this since I was a girl."
He can hardly act as if he knows what she means; could hardly say how he understands, how he knows the plot of the story she's suffered alone. He can imagine the relief she must feel having her mother at her side once more; not when he knows the alternative like a monster knows a sword.
And so, instead, he agrees. Offering a simple, yet suitably vague, "They come too rarely."
A waiter arrives, taking each of their orders politely whilst depositing several teacups before them. Another soft breeze sweeps through the air as they leave, tumbling softly through Bell's hair and sending it every which way. He gathers it off to the side with his hand, draping it over one of his shoulders. It's getting too long. Across the table, he thinks he sees Aria nod approvingly, but quickly becomes distracted by a nearby bird's song.
"And you?"
He blinks and turns to face Ais, not quite following the question. "What about me?"
"On your rare days. What do you like to do?"
Humming, he considers. "Reading, I suppose. Stories of heroism or histories, mostly." There is a snort from across the table that he's choosing to ignore; Ais glances over at Lili with a furrow to her brow, but she blessedly doesn't question the interruption too deeply. He shrugs his shoulders to regather her attention. "Nothing more interesting than that, really. I've been told it's quite juvenile."
Ais is quick to shake her head. "I wouldn't say it's juvenile in the least. One of the sisters in my familia is a fan of similar stories, I think you'd get along well with her."
Across the table, Aria perks up. Bell's brow raises as her farse of a conversation with Lili is abandoned without pretext. "Which one was that?"
"Tiona," is the answer. "She's the one you said needed to eat more, mom."
Bell tries to place a reputation to the name. She must be one of the Hiryute twins, he thinks, a pair of famous amazon sisters of the Loki familia, but he can't make a determination past that. The stories of first class adventurers frequently make their rounds across the continent, yet they are always cloaked in a healthy dose of skepticism that is impossible to see the truth behind. He'd heard that one of the twins had recently leveled up, momentarily leaving their sibling behind after scoring the final and critical blow to a Monster Rex of the deep floors.
"In my defense, she's quite slight. How was I supposed to know she could put food down like that?" Then, for the sake of Bell and Lili's understanding, Aria breaks into a tale from the previous night. After he had slipped from the tavern, her reunion with her daughter had taken place away from prying eyes. Then, with their tears replaced by smiles, Aria integrated smoothly with the rest of the party. They told her stories of a younger Ais—stories which she quickly became distracted reiterating, much to her daughter's constant dismay—and enjoyed good food and drink.
At one point or another, she'd noticed Tiona refraining from the festivities and made a thoughtless, offhand comment about how the girl should be enjoying herself more.
"She proved me wrong quite quickly," she confesses, "I don't think I've ever seen a person eat that much food at once. Truly, I hadn't even thought it possible. It was quite impressive." She releases a heavy breath. "And rather frightening, if I'm honest."
Ais nods her head in agreement as her mother speaks, and once the older woman finishes she gave them her own two cents on the matter. "The restaurant we were at was quite expensive." Bell nods his head, ignoring Lili's pointedly raised eyebrow, there's simply no way a person could see the bill and leave the building ignorant of that. "Tiona has been scolded by our familia's leadership for how much she raises the bill, so now they make her pay for her own food. She's a lot more conscious of it now."
Aria winces. "I hope I didn't make things too difficult on your friend." She genuinely looks quite upset at the thought; though she couldn't have known any different.
"I spoke with her this morning," Ais says with an easy smile to her mother, "She seemed quite pleased with herself. She'd been nervous that she wouldn't leave a great first impression on you, so she's glad she was able to wow you before the night was over."
"Oh, do let her know she has nothing to fear from me. I found all of your friends to be quite lovely. Tiona was very charming."
Ais says nothing in response to that, but nods her head all the same. Bell doesn't know her well enough to make much from her expression alone, but he thinks she seems deeply pleased by her mother's approval.
Their food arrives not long after, and they spend the remainder of their time together talking about general nonsense things. Aria took the reins on the conversation, dragging them from one topic to the next. Bell thinks she has this air about her—an aura, perhaps; he can't say if it is because she's a great spirit, the closest the gods have to a daughter, or if it is something else entirely. All he knows is that when she speaks, people listen. Spellbound, almost.
For whatever reason, every storied word she utters leads back to things he had told her himself—about himself. Tales of the world and his experiences in it; those which he had shared with her as he escorted her to the city. It's clear to everybody at the table that if any single person in this wide world of theirs had left a good impression on Aria Waldstein, it was him. She seems quite taken, honestly, almost to an embarrassing degree.
She's very careful not to mention anything incriminating—all stories of their adventures and battles outside the city's walls were strictly off limits. Not a single word is breathed about the legendary black dragon of myth and poem that he'd ferried her safely from. And yet, despite the chains that limit her, she still makes him sound far more impressive than he knows himself to be. Where most might puff their chests out in pride, Bell finds himself wilting and his shoulders drooping the longer Aria's tirade goes uninterrupted. And he most certainly could not look the woman beside him in the eyes ever again, lest he shrivel into nothingness. Never to be seen nor spoken of again.
When enough becomes enough, Bell reprimands her with a gentle and quiet utterance of 'Aria.' She glances over and sees his expression, notices the grimace his lips are set in, and blinks, halting her latest tale.
"Ah. Apologies, I've been quite the tyrant, no?" She laughs at herself, seemingly as a way of shaving away at some of her own embarrassment, but Bell thinks the look in her eyes is disturbingly similar to triumph. Her smile slides from him to Ais then back again, growing with each face she sees. "I'll let you two get back to your conversation."
The apples of Bell's cheeks rise as he squints at the woman, entirely confused by her strange behavior; beside him Ais tilts her head to the side and says, "You know a lot about one another." It's almost a condemnation, an accusation. From anybody else it might have been, but from Ais it feels like little more than an innocent question.
Knowing this, Aria just laughs. "For how excited I was to see you again, dear, our walk through the city felt more like a year long voyage across the continent. I needed something to distract me, else I'd go mad with worry; Bell here was just kind enough to oblige with many stories of his life."
As Bell coughs, Ais reassures her mother. "You shouldn't feel nervous around me."
"I know, dear," Aria's reply is gentle. Soft and warm. She reaches across the table and takes the hand Ais offers to her, brushing her thumb across the back of it. The frown her daughter bore eases. "I know. But, I didn't then, and I was worried. It'd been a long time since I last saw you and you were so young then. I feared you might have forgotten me."
"I wouldn't. I couldn't."
Her eyes crinkle at their corners and she pulls her hand back to brush her knuckles over the tears that might gather there. "Bell told me the same." They both glance in his direction and he quickly has to figure out what to do with his face. Aria gives him a sweet smile as her daughter murmurs another thankful sentiment. In response, he offers an uncomfortable half-smile of his own before his eyes flee to a nearby flower pot.
Whatever else might have been said, would never be. A moment after Aria begins to speak again sirens break out across the city. They echo in from the north first, then east and west. Each one sounds and resounds out of sync from one another, one by one falling further apart until the city is drowned in a blanket of noise. Then, with a final wave of wails they filter out and a feminine voice takes charge of the silence.
Ais stands as the announcement begins, not even needing to hear the words to know her service would be required. It must not be the first time.
She turns to apologize to her mother. "They need me," is all she says, but any one of those at their table could hear how much she regrets it, see how little she wishes to go.
"What's happening, Ais?"
"Monsters," she declares, bouncing on her feet as she prepares to bolt as soon as their conversation ends. "Rivira of the Under Resort has been struck several times this year already. There have been rumors of intelligent monsters within the dungeon. They've been attempting to rout adventurers from the settlement."
Bell can't help but frown. "Intelligent?"
Ais glances his way and, though he did not expect her to, nods her head. "There are rumors that they are capable of speech."
It chills his blood and sets his shoulder alight in equal measure. He feels himself swallow something heavy as his heart pounds in his ears. His voice couldn't be trusted, so he says nothing as Ais runs and jumps from the railing with only a single backward glance. A malicious, damnable, and metaphorical smoke settles descends upon his head to choke out his thoughts. He tries to clear it away, tries to wave his right arm through to disperse it, but his body refuses to head his call.
"They're probably unrelated, Bell," he makes out through the fog. Across the table, both his companions seem similarly troubled, but Aria is putting on a brave face. There are cracks along its fragile edges, but it only makes Bell admire it more. "In fact, I am certain they are. We have nothing to worry about. The city's adventurers are strong."
But they had been stronger before. Back beyond the time when Loki and Freya reigned supreme within the labyrinthian city. They were stronger, and even they fell to the Black Dragon, powerless to stop it. For all their efforts, for all they had slain other legendary beasts, they had failed to even dim its scales. It was a beast of yore, cruel and vain. A relic from the age of heroes, just as Aria is, though the dragon made for far worse company. And it, too, held a certain intelligence about it. It, too, could speak, though not in a tongue any of these three knew.
Aria stands, dusting her skirts, and his eyes follow as she holds a hand out to each of them. "Nothing will be solved here, with you two stewing in your fears and memories. I, for one, have no desire to reflect on my time imprisoned by that fell creature, so I would appreciate it if you would wipe those grim expressions from your faces."
"You're right," Bell sighs and takes her hand in his, allowing her to pull him out of his seat, "We'll escort you back." He adjusts his cloak where it rests and drapes from his shoulders, fiddling with the clasp and strap which held it secure. Briefly, when neither woman is looking, his hand goes to his shoulder and the pads of his fingers dig harshly into the flesh beneath the fabric.