5:04 PM, 23rd of December, 1728.
The shop was closed for the day, Alexander having helped dozens of customers, logging down their requests or checking if their commissions were finished. It was a rather easy job, though he dreaded the thought that there were six more days before he would be getting paid.
Leonard opened the door to the front room, the heat rushing in from the difference in temperature, bathing Alexander’s side, who was sitting at the front desk, his legs crossed and his head held up by the palm of his hand. “You go on ahead back to the inn. I’ll be here for a few more hours finishing up the rest of my work for the day.”
Alexander stood, “If you say so, don't go burning yourself out.”
Slowly closing the door, he stuck his head through the crack and spoke before shutting it entirely. “I love my work far too much for that to ever happen - you’ll come to realize that soon enough.”
Now alone, Alexander sighed. He had almost revealed that he could see despite the blindfold, and was exhausted at the idea of needing to keep up the charade. He would need to reveal it soon, at least to the people he regularly interacted with.
Opening the door of the shop, Alexander took in his surroundings. The street was dark, and the sun had set, but people still filled it, nearly to the brim. It was the weekend afterall. Some were walking, arms locked, heads resting on each other's shoulders, while others talked loudly, their faces red and their steps unsteady. It was the first time since arriving at this new city that he didn’t have something he needed to do, though he had no plans to join the nightlife.
Was this what it meant to be free? He never felt like his life was under someone else's control, and yet in that moment, he felt like a heavy weight fell from his shoulders, and fog had cleared from his mind.
Though one small thing was still nagging at him, one small thought he couldn’t rid from his mind. He needed his question answered. He wanted to know why Aisha was killed and if it was Jensen who was truly responsible.
He felt free, but he also felt lost.
The only meaning to his life right now was survival, and that wouldn’t change until he had his answers.
So that would be his goal.
He would not stop until he could have his question answered, no matter what it took.
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-
The inn was lively, packed full of even more people than the night before. Laughter exited, and food entered almost every mouth in the building, all of them drunk save for Anissa, who was actively serving their meals and drinks.
She turned her head as Alexander entered, a slight look of disappointment crossing her face for a moment as she realized he was alone. “Is he staying late tonight?”
“For a few more hours, he said.”
“That’s not too bad, alright.” Warmth returned to her face. “Want me to heat up some more of that pig for you?”
His stomach rumbled at just the thought of the food, and he nodded in response.
He ate downstairs this time, sitting in an unoccupied corner, and hoping that he could get used to the constant doubling of nearly every sense he had, though as he ate his plate, the dizzying feeling didn’t seem to get any better.
He turned his head as a shout was heard to his right, towards the direction of the front counter.
“If I can’t pay, then I can’t pay! There’s nothing you can do about that!”
Alexander's chest burned, leading him to worry about the situation more than he usually would. He wasn’t going to hesitate. He stood up and quickly made his way over to the other side of the dining room, bumping into a few people on his way.
Anissa stood just behind the front counter, and standing across from her was an oddly familiar man.
“Raymond, this isn’t some charity you can come and go from whenever you like. You ordered your food and drinks, and now you need to pay for them.”
It was Raymond, the man who had called out to him the night before as he brought the boar in.
Raymond stepped forward, his hand lashing out and grabbing at Anissa's wrist. “If you don’t learn to listen, I can pay you in cuts and bruises, y’know.”
Without wasting a moment, Alexander stepped forward, grabbing Raymond’s arm, his tone commanding and firm, “Let go of her arm.”
Raymond's eyes narrowed before he let out a snicker, “The blind boy wants a fight, are we serious?”
He let go of Anissa’s arm before bringing it back and striking directly at Alexander’s face.
Alexander stepped to the side, barely managing to dodge despite seeing the strike before it came, feeling the wind fly by his face. Raymond's fist struck a wooden post atop the front desk, spreading cracks throughout it upon contact.
If the man wasn’t heavily inebriated, and if Alexander couldn’t see the future, the strike could’ve caused some serious problems.
“Hey, how’d you dodge that?”
He stepped forward, throwing out another strike at Alexander, who again stepped to the side.
This time, though, he grabbed at the outstretched arm and yanked it over, attempting to throw the drunk man on his back.
He landed hard, spit flying out of his mouth as his back made contact with the floor, knocking the wind out of him. He lay there for only a moment, though, before trying to stand up again.
The situation had changed drastically in that single moment.
His hand was at his waist, struggling to unsheath the sword he had hanging from his side.
The crowd that was previously watching, enjoying the scene before them, started moving.
Dozens of men moved towards Raymond, grabbing at his arms and removing his hands from his blade.
“Don’t go ruining your life now, you drunk idiot.”
He squirmed in their grasps, trying to break free, before yelling, his words slurred and his face red, his veins looking as if they would pop out of his head, “How are you going to try to tell me what to do? I’m part of the Knights of Origin, don’t you know? I could have all of you arrested!”
Alexander worried for a moment before hearing one of the restrainers' responses.
“This is the City of Truth. What are you talking about, you buffoon?”
