A Journey Unwanted

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Heart Kingdom]

[Pulchritudo]

"Hm..."

Mikoto watched the scene through half-lidded red eyes, his expression betraying little beyond mild disappointment. The veil of magic cloaking both him and Robert remained perfectly intact, rendering them nothing more than spectators inside the old church.

"They’ve really accepted this as part of their lives." His voice was quiet.

He folded his heavy gauntleted arms across his chest, the alloy scraping together.

"They aren’t arguing anymore. They aren’t even trying to stand their ground. They’re just enduring it." His gaze lingered on Nicholas as the elderly pastor carefully ladled more soup into another bowl. "That’s the look of people who’ve realised resistance only makes the future worse."

The three Heart Kingdom soldiers had thoroughly made themselves comfortable.

One lounged lazily across an entire pew, boots resting atop wood without the slightest concern for the sacred building. Another tore apart chunks of fresh bread with gloved hands while greedily helping himself to soup Nicholas had reluctantly served. The bald soldier spoke casually between mouthfuls, as though this were nothing more than an afternoon visit between acquaintances rather than extortion carried out beneath a church roof.

Nicholas moved between them with some composure.

Catherine quietly followed besides him.

Neither complained nor protested.

The atmosphere had settled into open hostility.

Robert’s brows slowly drew together.

"I suppose..." he began quietly, never taking his eyes from the soldiers, "...it is always easier for ordinary people to endure humiliation than to invite greater suffering upon themselves."

A tired sigh escaped him.

"Power has a habit of teaching that lesson rather quickly." His emerald eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "But these men, they’re far too comfortable." His gaze shifted towards the bald soldier. "They don’t carry themselves like common guards abusing a little authority while they can."

Robert folded his own arms.

"They act as though they’re untouchable. As though nobody above them would ever question what they’re doing here." He shook his head slightly. "Considering a baron openly funds this church, they’re either part of an unusually influential platoon or they’re protected by someone far more powerful than themselves."

Mikoto gave an absent hum.

"Either explanation’s annoying." His attention drifted away from the soldiers. "There isn’t much left to watch." His tone became almost bored. "They’ve already shown us everything worth seeing."

He uncrossed his arms.

"We can always come back later."

Robert frowned slightly, his lips parted. He had intended to ask whether they were simply leaving; the question never escaped.

The world folded; there was no flash of light or any sensation of movement.

One moment...

The scent of old wood, stale incense, and warm bread filled the air; the next the church vanished.

Instead, the bustling streets of Pulchritudo stretched around them once more.

Dark stone buildings towered overhead beneath the overcast sky. Well-dressed citizens passed by without sparing the pair more than a passing glance. Carriages rolled over smooth roads while distant conversations rang out.

It was as though the church had never existed.

Robert blinked; his mind took considerably longer to arrive than his body. He instinctively looked down; his hands had regained their solidity. No longer translucent, the magic had already faded.

His stomach lurched unpleasantly; he pressed two fingers briefly against his forehead before releasing a weary breath.

"A little warning would’ve been appreciated." His voice carried the exhausted tone of someone who already knew complaining was pointless. "I’ve noticed you have an unfortunate habit of relocating people without so much as a word."

Mikoto glanced sideways; his expression remained perfectly innocent.

His voice, however, dripped with sarcasm.

"What?" He tilted his head ever so slightly. "You want me to hold your hand first?" His rosy lips curved into a small smile. "Maybe whisper something reassuring?" He pretended to consider it. "Or perhaps sing you a nice little lullaby while we’re at it?" His smile disappeared immediately. "Stop being such a baby."

Robert slowly closed his eyes; he felt another sigh threatening to escape. He suppressed it, probably for the best.

He had enough wrinkles already.

Opening his eyes once more, he looked ahead.

A broad stone avenue stretched before them before splitting into narrower streets, weaving between towering buildings. Crowds drifted through the intersections while merchants called to passing customers beneath storefronts.

Normally he would’ve admired the city.

Instead...

His thoughts remained inside the church.

"What now?" he finally asked. "I assumed we’d question Father Nicholas about Albion and Ddraig before leaving. " His gaze returned to Mikoto. "That interruption rather ruined the opportunity."

Mikoto began walking without the slightest indication that he actually knew where he was going.

Robert, having long accepted this strange leadership style, simply followed.

"The old priest..." Mikoto spoke after a brief silence. "...and the nun." He shrugged lightly beneath his armor. "They probably don’t know anything worth chasing. They’re kind and sincere. But neither of those qualities suddenly makes someone informed." His red eyes wandered idly across the passing streets. "If they knew anything substantial about the dragons, I’d be genuinely surprised."

Robert considered that.

"I suppose that’s fair." He nodded once. "Then why return at all? If they aren’t useful to your search, what reason do we have to walk back into that church?"

Mikoto answered without hesitation.

"My curiosity." His voice remained calm. "I still haven’t figured out how that faith ended up existing in this world." His brows knitted together ever so slightly. "A church like that shouldn’t be here, a Bible shouldn’t be here, and a painting of Michael definitely shouldn’t be here."

His gaze briefly lowered.

"And yet it all exists."

Robert watched him for a moment.

A thoughtful smile appeared.

"You know, you really don’t strike me as someone who chases answers simply because something interests you. But hearing you admit you’re acting out of curiosity..." He chuckled softly. "...is honestly the biggest surprise I’ve had all day."

Mikoto looked at him flatly.

"You’ve known me for what, a few weeks?" His rosy lips twitched upward into a small, almost unbearably cute snort. "And you’ve already decided exactly what kind of person I am?"

He raised a brow.

"What, you think I’m some one-dimensional character whose entire existence revolves around one personality trait?" His smile lingered for only a moment. "Bit arrogant, don’t you think?"

Robert rubbed the back of his neck. "When you put it like that, I suppose it does sound rather presumptuous."

Mikoto gave a satisfied hum.

"Glad we’re in agreement."

"But then..." Robert spoke up again. "How exactly are we supposed to gather information on those dragons now?" His emerald eyes drifted toward Mikoto. "That was the entire reason we came here in the first place, wasn’t it? From everything I’ve seen of you, that objective seemed to outweigh almost everything else. Surely you’re not content to simply leave empty-handed after coming this far."

Mikoto pondered about it for another moment before lazily shrugging beneath his armor.

"Maybe we’re lucky." His answer came with indifference. "The girls might’ve had better luck than we did." He glanced toward the open streets. "Between Gretel, the oni, and the monster, somebody might’ve stumbled across something useful while we ended up listening to a sermon and watching a shakedown."

He clicked his tongue.

"And if not..." His shoulders rose and fell once. "...this city’s huge." His red eyes wandered absentmindedly toward the various buildings before returning to Robert. "A place this size doesn’t run out of people who know things. Information doesn’t just disappear because one lead dries up." His lips curled into the smallest smirk. "It might get more expensive."

Robert slowly nodded.

"I suppose that’s true." He rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. "But doesn’t that leave you with another problem?"

Mikoto raised an eyebrow.

"What problem?"

"You," Robert answered almost immediately. "You and Gretel aren’t exactly anonymous travelers anymore."

His gaze settled on the young boy.

"You robbed the Heart Kingdom and, by extension, the Retorta Guild." A dry laugh escaped him. "Those aren’t the sort of organizations that simply let such things go." He folded his arms. "Surely every guard station within the city has some description of the two of you by now. If they’re even remotely competent, they’ll be keeping an eye out."

Mikoto looked entirely unconcerned.

"So?" The single word carried almost insulting confidence. "I just don’t go near the guards." He spoke as though avoiding an entire city’s security force required no more effort than walking around a puddle. "They can stare at sketches all day if they want. They’re only useful if they actually find me."

A brief pause followed.

"And if things somehow go south..." He shrugged again. "I’ll just use transmogrification magic. Again."

Robert blinked.

"You say that like changing your appearance is the same as changing a coat."

"It practically is," Mikoto answered without hesitation.

Robert frowned thoughtfully. "I’ll admit..." He glanced over the white-haired youth once more. "...I’m hardly an authority on magic. But..." He searched for the words. "Transforming an entire body..." His brows knit together. "...that can’t possibly be simple. It sounds uncomfortable. I imagine it’s the sort of spell most mages would struggle to cast even once." His gaze lingered on Mikoto. "Doesn’t it bother you at all?"

For the briefest instant...

Mikoto’s expression shifted.

("Guess it would unsettle a normal person.") His thoughts surfaced quietly within his own mind. ("Feeling your bones, muscles, and skin rewritten isn’t exactly pleasant, but illusions won’t cut it, and again.") His red eyes lowered toward one gauntlet. ("I’m not exactly normal anymore.")

There had been a time, not all that long ago, when the idea would’ve horrified him. Now, it barely registered beyond mild irritation. He almost laughed at that realization.

Instead, he lifted his head again.

He had already prepared another dismissive remark.

Something that would end the conversation before Robert began asking questions Mikoto had no interest in answering.

His lips parted—

—and then he stopped.

Completely.

His footsteps came to an abrupt halt; Robert nearly walked another pace before realizing Mikoto was no longer moving.

He turned back with a puzzled look.

"...What?"

Mikoto’s nose twitched.

Once.

Then again.

It was subtle, so subtle Robert might’ve imagined it had he not been staring directly at him. The white-haired youth slowly turned his head. His red eyes swept across the street with unusual focus. It was like someone catching the trail of something familiar.

The countless scents of the city drifted through the air.

His eyes suddenly stopped.

Across the street, tucked almost shyly between two far larger buildings of dark stone and brick, stood a much smaller storefront. Unlike the surrounding architecture, it embraced soft colors. Its windows were trimmed in pale white, flower boxes rested beneath the glass, and above the entrance hung an elegantly painted wooden sign.

Sweet Retreat.

For the first time in quite a while...

Something very close to genuine interest crossed Mikoto’s face.

"...Is that..." His voice came out quieter than before, almost disbelieving. "...Chocolate?"