"Hello," she greeted, a warm smile gracing her enchanting face.
She had narrow, dark eyes, a soft, kind face, and raven black hair tied into an elegant bun.
"What can I get for you, sir?"
Elyas, unfortunately, was frozen, body, mind and tongue.
But who could blame him?
He grew up in a desert...
'Say something, you fool!'
The Barista frowned at him, growing concerned at his silence.
"Are you alright, sir?"
'Oh, her voice, too, goddammit! Okay, Elyas, apologise and ask for water. Those prices are outlandish!'
"I er... I uh water please. Ah, yes."
'No!'
The Barista chuckled, then tilted her head at him curiously.
"Water then? But can I ask, that's some strange fashion sense there, could you perhaps be from the Southern Kingdoms Union?"
She didn't sound nosy, nor derisive, only intrigued.
Elyas was going to say something, but settled on a simple nod.
"I see," she beamed. "Well, I'll quit my rambling then. Just water, right?"
Another nod.
'Yes. Good job, Elyas.'
A few moments later, the Barista returned with a glass of water, and Elyas finally mustered the courage to ask his question.
"Uh, ma'am. Can I ask about your-"
He pointed at her badge, and she choked out an involuntary laugh.
'Huh?! Did I say something wrong?! Why'd she laugh? Why'd she laugh goddammit?!'
"Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh, it was just that I didn't think you could talk at all."
'Oh... that's even worse.'
"Anyway, as for your question," she tilted to her badge, "Yes, I am a student at Rosendale. A third year, to be precise."
Elyas was gawking once again.
"Are you interested in Rosendale, uh-"
"Elyas. My name is Elyas, and yes." He paused, considered, then added, "Actually, I'm here for Induction day. I hear it's tomorrow, but I haven't a clue where to go and all the specifics."
The cafe fell into silence.
'Huh? Why'd everyone go quiet?'
Even the Barista's smile faltered, staring at him blankly.
Elyas looked to his sides nervously and saw the other customers staring at him with stunned frowns.
One specific young customer with glasses almost rose from his seat.
"Did I... Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry if I did," he muttered.
The Barista flinched back to herself and shook her head ardently.
"No," she asserted. "No, nothing is wrong, it's just Rosendale students tend to have a... certain type of image, to say the least."
Her eyes then shifted to his shirt, and Elyas tilted down at it too in confusion.
'What? Do I have a smudge or something... oh.'
His shirt's questionable design...
It was a bear winking provocatively, and scribbled below it was:
'You're the only honey I need...'
When Elyas finally realised, he felt his heart sink to his stomach and blood rushing to his face.
"Ah..." was all he could muster as a response.
But at some point, it seemed, the Barista had broken into a bout of laughter so hard that she was clutching her stomach and crouching behind the counter.
The young man with the glasses finally set down his tome, adjusted his glasses and approached him.
"Is it to my understanding that you will be studying at Rosendale starting this year?" he asked, sounding incredulous yet formal.
The nerdy fella was a bit shorter than Elyas and was dressed in a white buttoned shirt topped with a crimson cardigan.
Elyas once again felt incredibly self-conscious over his ...
"Uh, I guess so, yes," he said.
He looked down at his shirt shamefully and added, "I would like to apologise for my poor... uhm... choice of fashion. It's circumstances, you see."
The nerdy fella regarded his shirt once more before shaking his head and sighing.
"Here." He removed his cardigan and handed it to him.
"Wait, what?"
"I insist you take it," he said.
Elyas hesitated, flicked his eyes between the cardigan and the nerdy fella, then conceded and took it.
"Thank you."
"No need. Anyhow, er... the name is Cenric. Cenric Kerkley. You can return it when you've changed out of your... uh." He awkwardly trailed off, as if losing the courage to continue and returned to his table.
With a glass of water in one hand and his suitcase in the other, Elyas watched him go in absolute bewilderment.
'Would you look at that, Pops! Rich people can be kind!'
"Care to sit?" Cenric asked, gesturing to the seat across from him.
"Oh!"
Elyas jolted back to himself, turned to the Barista who was tending to another customer, then shrugged and joined Cenric.
***
"So you're from the south?" Cenric started.
"Yes."
"SKU?"
Elyas hesitated, then gave a half-hearted nod.
Cenric tilted his head at that.
"Why do you not seem so certain about your origin?"
Elyas held his gaze for a few seconds, considering his answers.
Then, conscious of his surroundings this time, he leaned in and whispered, "Actually, I lied. I'm from the Anarchist Desert, you see. Yeah, so no Unions there. None at all."
'What are they gonna do? Snitch on me? Rosendale knows where I'm from anyway.'
Cenric took a deep breath that said very clearly: 'Oh boy.'
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the Barista was near them.
"The Anarchist Desert? How'd you manage that?"
"What can I say, I'm a hard worker."
It didn't take long after that for her to glimpse his suitcase, prompting Cenric to do the same.
They both frowned.
"Say, Elyas," she said. "Did you perhaps just arrive from..."
"Oh yes, just a few hours ago, actually. Left the Amber Sea the day before yesterday."
He was getting used to her beauty by now, so words were flowing quite naturally.
The Barista once again hunched over in hysteria while Cenric stared at him unblinkingly.
"You cannot be serious," he said. "Induction day is tomorrow morning, you do know that, right?"
"Yes, yes, very much so. The Pops is quite the planner, heh heh. Always so precise."
The barista was trying to say something, but couldn't from laughter. "And... and your shirt... Oh, everything... he's..."
Cenric leaned back, thoughtful.
"Say, Elyas, are you perhaps playing a joke on us? Are you not taking this matter seriously?"
The Barista finally stood up, regaining her professional composure.
Elyas reeled back in offence.
"Oh, I'm very serious", he protested. "You think I enjoyed nosediving into the sea?! Antonio, that bugger, carrying that plane around like he knew what he was doing."
She was on the floor once more, and Cenric seemed even more offended by what he thought was Elyas mocking him.
***
It took a good thirty minutes for Elyas to clear the air and explain his circumstances. Cenric surprisingly came around and even bought him a coffee as a token of apology.
The Barista, meanwhile, was beyond herself. She complained that her cheek muscles were hurting from too much laughter, which Elyas considered a win.
The cafe had cleared plenty by then, so she excused herself and sat with them.
Apparently, she and Cenric are acquaintances since he was a regular customer and had been an aspiring Rosendale student for a long time.
Oh, and her name was Clara.
"Well, you see, the air in the desert is dry, and so ventilation is important. When I, uh, borrowed this shirt, I didn't care much for the design and only appreciated its size."
Cenric and Clara nodded understandingly.
"Well, I'm glad you found us before tomorrow, Elyas," Cenric said. "You seem to be unaware of a few things that might land you in peril with the other... students."
He spat the last word.
The guy surprisingly had some heat in him.
"Really? I mean, I wasn't going to wear this shirt tomorrow anyway. The Pops said they'd give me a suit, so I'm good."
Cenric paused, then looked at him as if he was about to deliver some bad news.
"What?"
Cenric cleared his throat.
"Elyas, my friend, um... the uniforms aren't assigned until the day before first term begins. That's a week from now. It's the dormitories that are tonight, the uniforms are next week."
"Ah..."
Elyas's head slumped to the table with a Thump!, startling the few customers left.
"Of course they are," he muttered defeatedly under his breath.
Cenric placed a hand on his shoulder consolingly.
"Don't worry too much-"
But then, the glass doors opened.
Unusual.
It was late.
Suddenly, Cenric was overcome with trepidation.
Clara stood and approached the customers with a forced smile.
"I'm sorry, but we're closed for the night-"
The customers moved past her as if she didn't exist, smiling at Cenric.
'What's their deal?'
There were three of them.
One was a tall blonde, handsome fella with a sardonic smile on his face, and an outstandingly fashionable attire.
The other two flanked him, similarly smiling, and looking like twins. They shared the same short, tapered hair and conventionally attractive faces.
"Cenric?! Can it be?!" The blonde guy called endearingly, sounding purposefully provocative. "My my, right before induction day, what a coincidence!"
Elyas flicked his head between them, and when he saw Cenric, he frowned.
Cenric was looking down nervously at his tome, pretending poorly not to perceive them. But Elyas saw him mouth a curse right before sipping on his coffee.
The trio reached their table, completely ignoring Elyas, and the blonde guy leaned over, intimately close to Cenric.
"I must say, when they told me fancy little Cenric got accepted, I was incredibly surprised myself."
He turned to his sidekick-looking friends, and added, "I mean, who could possibly in their right mind bequeath him Blood, am I right? That very much compels a question."
Then, the blonde guy's whole demeanour changed, and his face dulled to a seething glower, and when he spoke, his voice was low and cold.
"That blood was for Will... That blood was for Will, and you know that. You will regret it. I promise you, you will. You will regret taking what isn't yours, you destitute bastard."
Cenric pursed his lips, trying to stop his mouth from quivering.
But the blonde guy was close.
Too close.
"It is how it is," muttered Cenric.
The annoying guy scoffed, clenched his jaw in what seemed to be suppressed rage, then pulled back, and when he did, he finally noticed Elyas sitting there watching him with perplexed eyes.
But his eyes didn't linger on Elyas for too long; they instead narrowed at his shirt, poorly concealed by the cardigan.
"You're... the only honey I need?" he read.
The blonde guy didn't smile.
He looked him up and down and scrutinised every single aspect of Elyas, from his complexion to his bearing.
And after a few seconds too long, he eventually asked with a hint of hostility:
"Sitting with Cenric? And who might you be?"
'Goodness, I can't stand this bastard.'
Elyas shrugged.
"I'll be honest, I don't feel like giving you my name."
The annoying bastard stared and then chuckled.
"'Don't feel like giving me your name?' Feeling has nothing to do with anything. It is only proper that when someone asks you a question, you respond."
He then tilted his head at him, blinked at his shirt and poor attire, then added with a sneer, "And you clearly don't have the luxury to refuse. Say, from what family do you hail?"
'What is this guy, a king?! Who the hell does he think he is?!'
"Family? Well, I only got the Pops, but if I'm considering a few close family chums, I'd say Franky and Ms Henriette are up there too. But see, this one guy, Keppa, may refuse and all, but we know him well and have been around that fella enough that I might say he's almost there. Oh, and Antonio was there too, but he kinda lost that privilege in my eyes not too long ago. Ah, but for your question, just my good ol' Pops."
The annoying bastard's temple vein bulged, and he gritted his teeth.
Then, he leaned in closer.
"You're a southerner, aren't you?" he said softly. "Don't ramble like a wind-up toy, and please answer succinctly, alright?"
Elyas reeled back, revolted.
Goddammit, he could smell the mint in his poor-mannered mouth.
"'Succinctly?' I have no clue what that means, buddy?"
The blonde guy straightened, smirked derisively-
'There's that smile again.'
But then said something that damned this whole night.
He said something that made Elyas go blind for one ugly second.
"This 'Pops' of yours sounds like a hapless dolt, raising a son so..."
Elyas didn't hear him, then. He didn't hear or see anything at all.
Blood rushing to his fist and without thinking-
THWAK!
Elyas's arm swung and struck the bastard in the cheek, thrashing him to the table and spilling the coffee all over.
And not a split second later, standing with a trembling hand, Elyas's stomach dropped, and he mumbled every curse he could remember.
Because everything screamed with hot regret.
He messed up.
He messed up badly.
'Damnit, Elyas! No, no, no, no! What did you do?!'
But then, something else happened.
Something within him gushed with soothing heat, tantalising his every sense.
It jarred his thoughts more than anything.
'Wha-'
And then, scrambling everything in his mind, and fixing him still like a statue, the Crimson spoke eloquently in his mind for the first time:
< ... Blood Potency Enhanced ... >