Chapter 51: A goal to be a Destroyer.
Tobias leans back in the small, dimly lit room, pulling a worn pipe from his coat pocket. He frowns as he notices it’s covered in dust, then wipes it off with a deliberate, unhurried motion. His hands, despite the roughness of his work, handle the pipe with a certain care.
He strikes a match and lights the pipe, puffing a few times until a soft ember glows in the bowl. The familiar aroma of tobacco fills the air, and Tobias exhales a plume of smoke, his eyes never leaving the boy. The child remains frozen in place, clutching his book tightly against his chest.
"Now, listen here, kid," Tobias begins, his voice calm but firm. He gestures loosely with the pipe in hand. "I ain’t here to hurt you, or your folks. You keep quiet, and I’ll be gone ’fore you even notice I was here. Fair enough?"
The boy nods hesitantly, his wide eyes glistening with fear. Tobias leans forward slightly, his tone softening.
"Look, all I need is a place to lay low for a few hours. Nothin’ more. Maybe some new clothes, and, if you can swing it, a bit of help with this here scratch." He gestures toward the injury on his side, the blood seeping through his shirt now dark and sticky. "It don’t look too bad, but I figure it’d heal faster with a little fixin’ up."
The boy swallows hard, his voice barely audible. "I... I don’t know if I can help."
"You can," Tobias assures him, his expression serious yet oddly reassuring. "A smart kid like you? You can handle this. Now, go fetch me somethin’ for this wound—and maybe somethin’ I can wear that don’t scream ’outlaw.’ No tricks, though, you hear me?"
The boy hesitates, but the weight of Tobias’s calm yet commanding presence compels him to comply. He sets his book down and scurries off to gather what was requested.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the village, Fjorn and Rurik stride purposefully through the streets, their faces etched with determination. The night air is thick with tension as they encounter a group of castle guards fanning out across the area.
"Any sign of him?" Fjorn asks the nearest guard, who shakes his head grimly.
"Not yet," the guard replies. "But we’re certain he’s still within the village walls. No one gets in or out without us knowing. We’re checking every building, every house. He can’t hide forever."
Rurik crosses his arms, his sharp eyes scanning the darkened streets. "He’s desperate, no doubt. That makes him dangerous—and clever. We need to be thorough. Leave no stone unturned."