Ersia: Raven Dawn

Lisabelle, Viena, and their guardian Gwen strolled home at an easy pace, their errand long since finished. Unwittingly, they had taken countless detours, their conversations meandering just as freely. Gwen was, by far, the most affable knight the girls had ever known. She spoke with a disarming casualness, as though she had long forgotten everything tied to Lisabelle's fraught history—or perhaps she simply never cared much for the weight of it in the first place.

Before long, the town hall bell tolled sixteen times. Autumn's breath had begun to shorten the days, and twilight crept closer with each passing hour. The three continued walking, savoring the mellow hush of late afternoon, until Gwen’s gait abruptly halted. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she ushered Lisabelle and Viena into a narrow alley.

“Good afternoon, Captain Rocco! A fine sight to see you in good health!” Gwen called out brightly, stepping back into the street.

An older man, his long mustache drooping like the whiskers of an aged cat and his eyes narrowed to slits, turned at the sound of her voice.

“Hm? Gwen? What in the devil’s name are you doing here? Weren’t you assigned to watch over the girl with Jangir’s lackey?”

“Sir, yes sir! I’m presently on duty alongside Knight Alan of Captain Jangir’s second platoon,” Gwen snapped to attention, her smile taut.

“You don’t look much on duty to me, standing here in town.”

“T-That’s not—” Gwen swallowed hard, her stance faltering. “My deepest apologies, Captain, but I swear I’ve not strayed from duty or honor!”

“Oh? Let’s hear your excuse then,” Captain Rocco grunted, folding his arms.

With the theatrical flair of a street performer, Gwen launched into an elaborate tale. She wove a story of scouring the market for cinnamon—an urgent errand for Eleanor, who wished dearly to cook a cherished family dish to welcome her only kin. Gwen’s voice cracked artfully, her eyes shimmering with false tears as she painted a picture of Eleanor’s frail health and fading joys, tugging shamelessly at the heartstrings.

“W-Well then... where’s the cinnamon?” Captain Rocco asked, his gruffness softening under her performance.

“That’s precisely the trouble, sir! Hours I’ve wandered, and not a stick of cinnamon in sight. I could name every boutique and jeweler in Fleurin, but cinnamon? Sir, I haven’t the faintest clue what it even looks like.”

As Gwen spun her yarn, Lisabelle and Viena peered cautiously from the alley’s edge. Lisabelle tugged Viena’s bunny-ear headband lower, flattening it against her scalp to keep it from poking into view.

“Wow. She’s really good,” Viena murmured.

“Y-Yeah…” Lisabelle agreed under her breath.

Just then, a faint clatter of pebbles echoed behind them.

“Finally! Found you!”

Both girls spun around. A boy, roughly Lisabelle’s age, emerged from the deeper shadows and strode toward them. His skin bore the warm hue of sun-baked mocha, and his black eyes were round and unblinking under absurdly thick eyebrows that made Viena bite back a giggle. His shoulder-length hair tangled at the ends, and his ragged clothes and oversized shoes hinted clearly at his lack of privilege.

“Theo?” Lisabelle blinked.

“Bella! What the hell is going on?! The newspapers—the court—the whole bloody mess with the military lady—what’ve you done?!” His voice came fast and sharp, his words tumbling one over the next.

“Bella?” Viena echoed, bewildered, glancing sidelong at Lisabelle.

The boy’s insistent voice, rising and falling in agitation, cut through the murky air. Without another word, Lisabelle seized both Theo’s and Viena’s hands and dragged them deeper into the alley. Only when they had put ample distance between themselves and the street did she release them, her breath tight in her chest.

“Bel! Explain!” Theo demanded, his dark brows furrowed.

Lisabelle exhaled heavily. “There’s... far too much to explain, and not nearly enough time. I’m not even sure where to begin.”

"About the accusation, Bel! Did you really do it?!" Theo’s voice cracked sharp in the narrow alley.

"Yes, Theo. I did." Lisabelle’s reply came steady, yet low. "It was a mess—a big misunderstanding—but I’ve no one to blame but myself."

“Damn it! How could you let it come to this? What about our plan?!”

Lisabelle fell silent. Her gaze dropped, her thoughts knotting behind her furrowed brow. Theo clenched his fists but said nothing more. Even Viena, sensing the heaviness in the air, kept quiet. After a long breath, Lisabelle slid back her dark brown hood and scrubbed her fingers through her hair, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“First things first. Let me introduce you two,” she said. Her voice steadied again. “This is Viena—my sister. And Vivi, this is Theo. He’s a friend of mine.”

“Bel—dammit! Why are we wasting time with introductions?! We’ve got bigger things to—”

“Theo,” Lisabelle cut in, her tone flattening, grave. Her gaze pinned him cold and clear. “This is the most important thing you need to know.”

Theo faltered. His scowl softened as he cast a brief glance toward Viena, studying her properly this time.

"What are you talking about? What's with her?"

"Remember her well. If you ever find her in trouble, help her. Even if you found me trapped in a house fire, you should find her instead of helping me out."

"That's fucking nonsense. Why would I-"

"Theo, please."It was the first time he had ever heard Lisabelle plead. Not bark orders, not snap sarcasm—but plead. There was a rawness in her voice, a helpless, hollow note that caught him off guard. He pressed his lips together and turned to Viena again, slower this time, scrutinizing her small frame, her cobalt blue eyes, the sharp black bob of her hair.

"I would - a hundred percent - lose her in the crowd in mere seconds," Theo crossed his arms.

"I know, right? That's why I made those bunny ears for her. You should look out for that. That's an original design, and no one would wear the same thing - unless somehow it gets popular. After all, uninspired bastards are everywhere, and they are always on the lookout for ideas to steal and claim," Lisabelle nodded and crossed her arms also.

A glint caught her eye—broken glass near the alley wall, jagged and carelessly discarded. Through its reflection, Lisabelle glimpsed Gwen weaving closer, her brow furrowed in uncertainty as she scanned the surrounding shadows. The knightess was drawing near; they were out of time.

“So? What about my question, Bel? You still haven’t—”

“Theo, listen carefully.” Lisabelle grabbed his wrist, her grip urgent. “I’ll answer everything. Two weeks from now. Tell the others I’m alright—especially the twins.”

Before he could protest, she seized Viena’s hand and tugged her toward the alley’s mouth where Gwen was approaching.

“I’ll meet you at our place. I’ll bring cookies, so grab some milk if you can, alright? Bye!”

“Wait—!”

As he watches Lisabelle and Viena turning to the alley where they came from, Theo lets out a sigh. He really couldn't handle the girl. To think that there are now two of a kind, he couldn't imagine what would happen next. Yet, he is now full of relief after seeing Lisabelle doing okay. Now, he can return with a piece of good news and a much much lighter heart.

Meanwhile, Lisabelle and Viena emerged to rejoin Gwen. The knightess shot them both a sharp look.

“Where’ve you two been? Don’t vanish on me like that again,” she scolded. But when Lisabelle explained they had ducked deeper into the alley to avoid Captain Rocco’s men, Gwen’s brow eased. With a huff and a muttered “Fair enough,” she let the matter drop.