36: Interrogation
“Boy,” A gruff voice rang out behind Tom, causing his expression to tighten. His hand wrapped tighter around his [Blade Manifestation] card but a few seconds later he bit down on his lips, calming himself.
The street he was on was far less crowded than the Town Square had been, but there were still a couple individuals and what looked to be two families milling about. Although [Blade Manifestation’s] Energy Sword skill was generally something he wouldn’t consider using on another person, as long as he focused his instincts told him that blunting the sword’s edge was a definite possibility—- or perhaps his Deck Card also had a way of impressing upon his intuition like his [Soul Card] did.
In its blunt form [Blade Manifestation] should easily be able to stun his pursuer long enough for him to escape but….. he had been exploring the Academic City, Renovia for half an hour now, trying to piece together the fragmented recollections he’d received from Zenakris into a plausible cover story— long enough to know that there were enough powerful guards in the city that could subdue him with relative ease.
“Boy, I’m talking to you,” A firm hand landed upon Tom’s shoulder, making him bite his lip to the point that a drop of blood dribbled down his chin. Ultimately though, Tom concealed the card he had been holding deeper into his robes, choosing not to pick a fight that he could not win.
It felt so frustrating to yield after the painstaking lengths he had gone to obtain his power, but even his Ephemeral card couldn’t fight an entire city.
Plastering a mildly annoyed expression on his face, Tom slowly turned around.
“What do you want?” he asked, with all the confidence of an aggrieved party.
Confronting him was a middle aged man dressed in an unassuming grey livery, his piercing brown eyes scoured Tom’s visage with unexpected intensity. The unknown man’s sharp jawline set into a stern expression, his faded black hair and well built physique exuding a mature grace that could not be diminished by the stress lines running across his forehead.
“What house do you pledge your allegiance to, lad?” The man asked in a lowered tone, his gaze flickering over to the pedestrians walking down the street.
Raising his eyebrows in mock astonishment, Tom, seeing the merit in keeping his verbal altercation to the down-low, matched the pitch of his voice, “What’s it to you?”
Letting out a weary sigh, the man reached for his pockets. Startled, Tom tried to step away from the man, only to realise that he couldn’t budge from the spot.
‘So… strong.’
Sweat began to bead on his forehead as he struggled against the man’s iron grip, only to cease resisting a few seconds later. He was thoroughly outclassed in the physical stat and he wasn’t willing to let their interaction blow up into full-blown combat yet.
A glint of metal caught his attention as Tom turned to see what the man had withdrawn from his chest pocket, ready for the worst if there was a card clenched in his hands.
Instead, Tom found a silver medallion embellished with ruby red highlights, depicting what seemed to him like a ferocious beast. He was familiar with that medallion— having seen it pinned to the chest of every guard he had spotted in the city. Heart lurching, Tom thought back on his memories— certain that they had all been clothed in the same majestic cerulean blue and pearl white liveries. Why was this guard different? Was he impersonating an officer? In broad daylight? That sounded too unlikely to be true.
Batting away the hesitation he was feeling, Tom replied, “I have pledged my allegiance to House Renain. Please unhand me now,”
“Oh?” The guardsman replied, expression placid. “What year was the Noble House of Renain formed?” he followed through with a question.
‘So that’s where he’s going with this. Damn it!’
“Five hundred and sixteen cycles ago,” he replied a few seconds later, intentionally letting a little anger seep into his voice.
“Who was the fifth lord of the Renain Family?”
“Nakris Renain,” Tom shot back, his tone rising an octave.
“Huh,” The guard replied, blinking as he relaxed his grip around Tom’s arm. “I suppose I was mistaken.”
“You were,” Tom arrogantly replied, clearly affronted by the crass treatment he was offered. Or rather, he had no option but to act affronted—- even willing to go as far as to raise a fuss about the purported mistreatment he was facing.
“Kid, you know, you’re really quite talented,” The guard let out a wry laugh. “Really, if I wasn’t pledged to the Renain family myself, you really would’ve pulled a fast one over me.”
Shit. Shit shit shi-
Tom was seconds away from firing off [Blade Manifestation] as the panic he felt threatened to overwhelm him.
“Now, now, I wouldn’t do anything stupid, brat. Wipe that grimace off your face, I’m not a noble— just a humble former serf from the Nameless district,” he replied, his gaze hardening in clear warning.
“The Nameless District?” Tom asked, his tone genuinely confused. Nothing in Zenakris’ memories had referred or even vaguely alluded to this ominous sounding district, though that wasn’t unreasonable he supposed— it was impossible to explore Zenakris’ every memory with Maya, let alone memorise everything.
“Still refusing to drop the act?” The guard muttered under his breath, his expression confused— as if he was unsure whether to be angry or impressed. “Look, son, I know the allure of the Noble District but… you’re lucky I found you on my off-duty day. Keeping an eye on the guards, gawking at commonplace sights and being dressed in crest-less combat robes but having no armour beneath them and no party in sight…. I’d give it another hour, maybe two, before they caught you and tossed you in the brig for a cycle for your insolence.”
A cycle….. Isn’t that….more than a year? The fuck?
“Is there a way out?” Tom asked, his expression grim.
“Walk with me.” The guard offered, nonchalantly walking past him as if he was sure Tom wouldn’t try to escape.
Well…. he wasn’t wrong. Roughly six hundred and seventy nine days in earth days— imprisoned— wasn’t something he was willing to risk. Not if there was a better alternative.
A few winding twists and turns later, Tom found himself in a deserted alleyway that was impeccably well maintained despite containing nothing but defunct storefronts that were boarded down with wooden planks. He couldn’t help but wonder if ‘magic’ had a role to play in the city’s maintenance, but that was the least of his worries in the moment— it wasn’t like he particularly liked following complete strangers down forlorn streets but the guard had already established that he could offer little resistance if it came down to a contest of physicality.
Considering he was willing to expose his unguarded back to him, he wasn’t scared of Tom’s [Deck Cards], either.
“What are you doing?” Tom asked, confused.
The guard stood before one of the boarded storefronts, his expression relaxed as he pulled out a card from a Deckholder clipped to his belt, pressing it against the part of the door that was still visible behind the planks.
A crinkling sound, akin to that of a glass vial being crushed in one’s hands, rang out as the illusion layering the storefront shattered, revealing a much smaller, rickety wooden door. Tom blinked to make sure he wasn’t just imagining it as the guard walked inside.
Peering inside from a safe distance, Tom didn’t find any hint of the danger he was expecting— instead met with a strong aroma of spices wafting out of what looked more like a small cellar than a defunct shop.
“Well,” An amused voice rang out from inside. “Aren’t you going to come inside? You look like you haven’t eaten a proper meal in weeks.”