"I'm tired... I just want to go home and sleep forever," Hundred muttered, his voice low and cracked. "Today's been rough."
He leaned his head back against the wall of the knights' headquarters reception hall. He had been beaten by some random criminal… and Damian. . . well, Damian was moving ahead, leaving him behind.
"Am I even cut out to be a knight?" he whispered, not really expecting an answer.
Trying to lift his own spirits, he straightened up a little.
"Hmph. I'm Hundred, from District 14. I'll become a knight… make money… help my parents." A faint, bitter smile tugged at his lips. "What a funny dream…"
He had already given his statement about the incident. He was free to go, but the red-haired girl had asked him to wait. she wanted to thank him properly.
"Well, maybe I'll at least get a decent reward out of this," he thought, closing his eyes as he lay down on the bench, hoping to get a moment of rest.
Minutes passed. People came and went, and his patience wore thinner with each passing second. He let out a long sigh.
"I'm leaving. I'm too tired for this," he muttered, slowly getting to his feet.
"Hey, mister! Thanks for waiting!" called the red-haired girl as she stepped out of the main hall.
She walked over with a soft smile and sat beside him.
"I haven't properly introduced myself yet. And... you're probably still a bit confused about everything that happened, right? My name's Vanabelle."
"Hundred. Nice to meet you, Vanabelle."
"The pleasure's all mine, Hundred. My hero."
"Don't say that… I didn't do anything. All I did was get beat up until we were rescued."
"What matters to me is that it worked. If it weren't for you… I might not even be here right now."
"Okay, okay, I get it. But please, stop thanking me or calling me a hero. It's embarrassing."
Vanabelle let out a quiet laugh.
"You're a strange one, Hundred. A boy who's shy about being called a hero. that's rare."
"I just don't think I deserve the title."
"Alright then," she said, her tone softening again. "Hundred… could you help me find Donovan Street? I was heading there with my group to do some shopping, but I got separated in the crowd. That's when I ran into that man… and, well, you know the rest."
"No problem. I can take you there—it's on my way home, and not too far from here."
"When we get there, I'll give you a reward. You saved me and now you're helping me get home too… thank you so much, really."
Hundred left the knights' headquarters alongside Vanabelle, heading toward Donovan Street, a place well-known for its inns. Many travelers passing through District 14 chose to spend the night there before continuing their journey the next day. The street had everything one could want: food, drink, revelry… and women. It was a lively place, to say the least.
"Hey, Hundred," Vanabelle said, glancing sideways at him, "aren't you the least bit curious that I can use magic?"
"I guess I am," he replied with a shrug. "But it didn't really concern me, so I didn't ask."
She smiled mischievously. "Wanna know my little secret? I'm an Ascendant. My power is healing."
"That's really cool. But… what's an Ascendant?"
I've read this term in some of my father's books, but I never really understood what it meant.
"You don't know what Ascendants are? Seriously? That's stuff they teach in school, like, elementary level."
"Hmm… I never went to school," Hundred said, his tone dropping slightly. "My family never had the money for it."
Vanabelle's expression softened. "Sorry… I didn't mean to offend you."
"It's okay," he replied, trying to stay cheerful.
"Ascendants are people who can acquire and manipulate Charma. It's a kind of energy that connects mortals to the gods who created this world. Every being here has it. It's shaped by our inspiration, desires, triumphs, sorrows, joys, even our traumas. It can take many forms… or sometimes lose its form completely."
She paused and looked at him more seriously.
"Which is what's happening to you right now."
"What do you mean… happening to me?"
"Some people are highly sensitive to Charma. They can feel it in others. And yours… yours feels fragmented. Like it's slowly falling apart… fading more and more."
"Is something bothering you, Hundred?" Vanabelle asked softly, watching him. "Judging by the state of your Charma… I'd say you're not doing very well."
"No, it's nothing," he replied quickly. "Maybe your senses are off this time."
"Ah, I see..." she said with a knowing look, letting the topic rest, for now.
"Can you tell me more about Charma? Or how I can learn to use it?"
"I don't know exactly how it all works," she admitted. "But to even begin manipulating Charma, you need to bathe in a special kind of water. If you're compatible with it… you'll be able to control Charma. And that's when the Paths of the Gods come in."
"Paths of the Gods?" he echoed.
"It's really complicated… I'm still learning how it all fits together."
Just then, Vanabelle's eyes widened. She'd spotted an older woman in the crowd ahead as they arrived on Donovan Street.
"Aunt Dalia!!" Vanabelle shouted and ran toward her. The woman turned, startled—then her eyes welled up with tears.
Dalia's eyes widened, then instantly filled with tears. She ran, stumbling slightly, arms outstretched. "Vanabelle!" she gasped, voice cracking.
"Where have you been, child? All the sisters have been searching for you! Adelayde and Robert even went to see if the knights could help. We were so worried!"
I don't know what I would do if I lost you, it's all my fault, I should have paid more attention to you.
"I'm fine now, Auntie. Really. Thanks to this guy." She gestured back at Hundred.
"Really?" Dalia turned to Hundred, eyes wide. "Oh, my dear boy… thank you! My name's Dalia. May I ask yours, kind stranger?"
"I'm Hundred," he said quietly.
"Hundred, you're a good Boy. Peaple like you are so rare these days."
"People around here seem nice," he replied, a little awkwardly.
"Yes, I can see that," she said, holding his shoulders gently, her face warm and motherly.
Hundred also found himself wondering why Vanabelle hadn't mentioned the man who had tried to abduct her.
But as he watched the way she spoke to her aunt, he understood.
Maybe it was better that way. Maybe she didn't want to worry Miss Dalia and the others any more than they already had been. Some wounds, he thought, are easier to bear when kept in silence.
"I need to go tell the others you're back," she said to Vanabelle. "They're still out looking."
"Aunt Dalia, before that, could you give me that storybook you promised me? The one you wanted me to read?"
"Oh! Yes, it's in my bag, back at the inn, in our room. Come, we'll go fetch it," she said, taking Vanabelle by the hand and leading her inside.
"Hundred! Don't just stand there, come with us!" Vanabelle called back.
Hundred followed slowly, his mind drifting.
What a strange family, he thought. They trust strangers so easily…
There was something surreal about them. their innocence, their warmth. It felt… out of place. As if they belonged to another world entirely.
Hundred, Vanabelle, and Dalia made their way to the inn where Vanabelle's group would spend the night. The rooms were upstairs on the first floor, but out of respect, Hundred chose to remain below. He was dirty, and the place seemed too refined for someone in his state, even if it was located in one of the city's more modest districts.
Not long after going up, Vanabelle descended the stairs again, holding a book in her hands. It looked expensive, its cover was silver and gleaming, adorned with small gemstones around the edges. As she reached him, Vanabelle spoke softly.
"This is for you. A gift."
Hundred looked at her, surprised.
"I noticed you like to read, back when we were talking," she said. "You mentioned reading your father's books when we spoke about Ascendants, remember?"
"I do," Hundred nodded, smiling faintly.
"This one's a tale about the First Ascendant. It's not a true story, but it has some insights about the subject."
"Thank you. I'll really enjoy reading it."
Vanabelle wrapped her arms around him and leaned close, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered:
"There are a few more surprises hidden inside. I'm sure you'll like them."
She kissed him gently on the cheek.
His skin burned where her lips touched. He froze, unsure if he should speak, or even breathe.
"Hundred, you're so insecure," she said, smiling. "You try to act tough, but deep down you're just a kitten whose courage is louder than his strength. You're… interesting. I'm glad I met you."
"I'm glad I met you too, Vanabelle," Hundred replied, his voice trembling with embarrassment.
"Will you be around tomorrow?" he asked. "I wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine, he uses magic too. Maybe he could learn something from you."
"Oh? A friend who uses magic? That's interesting... but I don't think I'll be here. We're leaving early tomorrow for District 7. My group and I need to reach Theria's capital as soon as possible."
"Ah… okay. I understand," Hundred said, his tone laced with quiet disappointment as they walked toward the inn's entrance.
"I'd like to stay longer too," she added, "but this mission is urgent. Maybe someday we'll meet again in the capital."
"Yeah, maybe. My friend and I dream of going there—to become knights. We've been training for it."
"I hope your dream comes true, Hundred. Becoming a knight suits you. Don't let that dream fade. Be more optimistic, I'm sure you'll make it."
She paused, looking at his face."And… sorry. I healed your wounds, but I couldn't get rid of the scar on your lip."
"It's alright. When I see it in the mirror, I'll remember today."
A short silence. Embarrassed smiles.
"Well… hmm… goodbye, then."
"Goodbye. And thank you again, Hundred—my hero."
"I told you to stop calling me that!"