Chapter 157: Sherry’s Past (4)
Sebastian gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes, usually so full of gentle deference, now held an iron resolve.
"The point, my lady," he said, his voice firm but kind, "is that you are alive. Your parents fought for that. They accepted their fate so that you could escape it. For you to give up now would render their sacrifice meaningless."
He squeezed her shoulder gently. "As long as we live, there is hope. That is what your mother and father would have wished for you above all else. We must honor that wish."
He helped her to her feet. "We have to have faith, my lady. We are alive. That is the only victory that matters today."
After their exile, they started moving.
They walked for what felt like days. Their dark, formal attire, suited for the cool, shadowed halls of Nocturne, was heavy and impractical under the foreign sun. They finally stumbled upon a small town, but it was a place of quiet desperation.
The streets were dusty, the buildings weathered. Gaunt-faced townsfolk eyed them with suspicion. A long queue of people waited near a nearly dry well, arguing over the last dregs of muddy water.
Sebastian approached a baker’s stall. The baker was a thin, wiry man, his face grim. The few loaves of flat, hard-looking bread he had for sale were clearly precious.
"Sir," Sebastian said politely, holding out a gold coin. "We are weary travelers. May we purchase some food?"
The baker’s eyes widened at the sight of the gold, but his suspicion only deepened. He looked at their strange, dark clothes. "Outsiders," he spat, his voice a low growl. "Where did you come from?"
Before Sebastian could answer, a woman in the water queue pointed a trembling finger at them. "Dark Mages.....Them! It’s them! Strangers! They are the ones bringing us misfortune!"