Tironde Inn (1)
"Hold it—look at this."
Cloud thrust out one foot with no small amount of pride. An iron shackle, chained to the cell bars, was locked snugly around his ankle.
"Undo this one too. Otherwise I can't get out."
"Serves you right indeed. To think that I, of all people, must suffer the company of such a wretch...!"
Sylvia glared at him, irritation written all over her face, but before long she clicked her tongue, pulled a disgruntled expression, and stepped into the cell.
Clank, clank. She bent down—stooping low enough that it cost her dignity—to undo the shackle around his ankle, and only then did Cloud light up with a smug, devil-may-care grin, as though he had finally been allowed to live again.
"Thanks."
"Should you wish to avoid suffering further indignities, you will never so much as think of escaping again."
Sylvia straightened up and fixed him with an icy stare.
"Yeah, yeah. Though being chained up this whole time has left my ankle a little stiff."
He bent down quite naturally and began rubbing his ankle.
And then—clank.
Feeling something heavy settle around her own ankle, Sylvia flinched and hastily looked down. To her utter disbelief, the iron shackle was locked around her ankle.
"Your problem, Sylvia, is that you trust people far too easily—can't tell whether you're naive or simply dim."
Cloud was already darting out of the cell. What's more, the ring of keys she'd been carrying was now clutched in his hand.
He gave it a jingle.
"Not that I even needed this to walk out of here on my own, right?"
"Cloud, you bastard!"
"Farewell, Sylvia. Sorry—and I loved you."
With those parting words, the bars swung shut, and Cloud sauntered out of the cave wearing a foxlike grin. Thor, who had been quietly watching the whole spectacle, let out a hearty laugh, scratched his head in mild embarrassment, and followed right along after him.
"That wretch—I will kill him! I swear I shall kill him!"
The thought that she had been fooled yet again sent Sylvia's temper boiling over. Rage surged to the very tips of her hair. She seized the hilt at her waist and drew her sword on the spot. Swept up in an agitation she could not contain, she found blue Sword Qi flaring to life along the blade without her willing it. Picturing Cloud's skull splintering to pieces, she raised the sword high and brought it down upon the shackle with everything she had. There was a sharp clang! and light flashed—the shackle's chain was sheared cleanly in two.
Next she swung her blade in a zigzag at the cell bars, and they too parted with ease before her sword. Bursting through the gap, she sprinted out of the cave—only to find the broad-shouldered Thor planted at its mouth, blocking the way like an immovable bear.
"I know not what grudge lies between you and my brother, my lady, but as of this day I have sworn to protect the brother who saved my life. Aiding his safe escape is my duty now. I beg your forgiveness for the discourtesy."
The moment the words left his mouth, Thor drove his fist into the wall with all his might.
The cave entrance came crashing down in a thunderous roar.
Sylvia, too slow to slip out in time, found herself sealed inside the cave.
Several dozen minutes passed. Then the ground of the tightly sealed cave began to tremble, and with a tremendous racket, rock burst apart in every direction. A moment later, Sylvia emerged into the open world once more, her pure-white armor caked in dust. She spat the grit from her mouth and ground her teeth.
"There is nothing left to say to you, Cloud! The instant I lay eyes on you, I shall cut you down!"
Three days had passed since his escape from the cave.
Having scrambled out of that cave in a desperate bid to flee Sylvia, Cloud had set off down the road at speed without so much as a backward glance. It meant he'd parted with Thor without even a goodbye, but he pressed on with his travels free of any particular regret—and at long last, he was drawing near the destination he had yearned for all this time.
"Wahahaha! Valois! Let every citizen—the lord himself included—come forth beyond the walls and grovel in welcome of this most venerable countenance!"
He was rambling all this to himself as he trudged alone across the plain. The deep gray sky exuded an ominous air, and a wind so fierce it made standing upright a struggle came howling in from the far edge of the endless grassland. The weather was sullen enough that a bolt of lightning out of nowhere would have surprised no one.
Cloud's pace quickened. The thought that he might end up soaked in the middle of this vast empty plain, with nowhere to shelter for miles, sent him hurrying toward Valois. A few more hours along the endless road and he would be there.
He would have nowhere to stay even once he reached the city, but he harbored a faint hope all the same—that Valois would grant him a life unlike anything he had known until now. It was a wealthy metropolis teeming with people; surely, he figured, there would be something for him to do in a place like that.
"I'm gonna make it big in this city! Live the high life, fat and happy!"
Just then, the darkened sky abruptly brightened.
Had the weather cleared? He tilted his head back without thinking to look up—and his eyes flew wide open. A massive fireball, blazing and roiling, tore across the sky and plummeted down a few dozen meters ahead of him, slamming into the field.
BOOM!
The enormous shockwave set off a minor earthquake. Cloud barely steadied his staggering body and clutched at his chest, heart hammering.
"Wh-where the hell did that come from?"
Then, all at once, the sky grew brighter still. An inexplicable dread washed over him, and when he whirled around, he saw dozens upon dozens of fireballs—the very same size as the one that had just fallen—stitching the heavens.
They weren't aimed at Cloud so much as simply raining in from every direction, tracing lazy arcs through the air before slamming into the ground wherever they pleased.
BANG! BANG!
BANG!
It was like a battery of cannons firing in succession on a battlefield.
"WaaAAAH! What the hell IS that?!"
Panic seized Cloud, and squeezing out every last ounce of strength, he broke into a frenzied sprint. The fireballs came down all across the plain, burning the planted crops and wild weeds to ash. Even as he weaved in desperate zigzags, barely dodging the ones that fell in his path, more kept streaking down from behind without pause. From behind him, beside him, ahead of him, the mysterious fireballs flew without rest and hammered into the earth.
"Save meeeeeEEE!"
Just as Cloud was running himself ragged with everything he had, a rider burst into view behind him. The figure galloped up like a bolt of lightning and flung out a hand toward Cloud, who was tearing ahead with eyes only for the road.
"Brother! Quickly—take my hand!"
A familiar voice. He glanced sideways to find Thor reaching out to him, reins clutched in his other fist.
"Thor!"
Cloud beamed. And the instant their hands clasped, Thor put his monstrous strength to work, hauling Cloud up onto the horse in a single motion and plopping him down behind the saddle.
"Wahahaha! Parting without so much as a farewell left me sorely bereft, brother! Who could have dreamed we'd cross paths again in a place like this!"
"Thor! What in the hell are these things falling out of the sky?!"
"That would be the Witch, throwing one of her little tantrums!"
"The Witch?"
"A Witch appeared in these parts not long ago. Lamenting how hideously she has aged, and seething with envy toward all the young women about, she works off her spite in tantrums like this one! Wahahaha!"
The horse the two of them rode tore across the burning plain without hesitation, mane whipping in the wind. Such was the ferocity of their charge that the fireballs plummeting from the sky like meteors seemed utterly incapable of barring their path to Valois.
The moment they passed through Valois's gates, they made straight for an inn that Thor recommended as the cheapest in the city with the finest service to boot.
The whole city was in a fever of festival preparations. On every street they walked, the excitement and heat of crowds anticipating the coming celebration all but brushed against their cheeks. Overhead, flowers folded from five-colored paper dangled on fine threads strung between neighboring rooftops, and on the open-air stage erected in the city plaza, two male actors costumed as nobles dueled over a commoner woman—each clash of their swords drawing a fresh roar of cheers from the spectators.
Not to be outdone by the din, bands lined up here and there around the plaza played their instruments at full tilt, drilling for the festival to come, while artists of every stripe threw open their homes for private exhibitions, stoking the festive mood in advance.
"Incredible!"
Cloud's mouth hung open. It was the first time in his life he had set foot in a great city, and he couldn't help feeling quietly daunted by the thronging streets and the grandeur of buildings raised like works of art.
"Hey—what festival is this, that you're going all out like this?"
Cloud, walking along beside Thor, grabbed a street vendor in the middle of frying chicken and asked.
"Hehe! You from out of town, friend? The whole city's run off its feet right now, preparing to welcome home the Young Lady—first time in years she's come back to us!"
"The Young Lady?"
"The daughter of Lord Aaron, the lord who governs this very land!"
"Ahh."
Cloud resumed walking, muttering under his breath.
"Whoever she is, I'm jealous. Her daddy throws whole festivals for her. You really do have to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth."
"Well, so long as the rest of us get to enjoy the spoils, all's well that ends well, no? Wahaha!"
The inn they arrived at before long had a truly one-of-a-kind exterior. A building raised from white brick, crowned with a brown roof shaped exactly like a mushroom cap. In plain terms, the building looked like a mushroom. A rest stop for travelers in pursuit of romance and dreams, it gave off the air of having leapt straight out of a storybook.
Hoping to snatch a moment's respite from a city crowded enough to bring on vertigo, Cloud hurriedly pushed open the inn's door.
What greeted his eyes was a rollicking drinking scene already in full swing despite the broad daylight. The place was bedlam—dancing, singing, laughing, shouting. Much like the streets outside, the interior showed no sign of slowing down either.
He had hoped to get a meal somewhere quiet; deprived of even that, Cloud let out a sigh. Then, slowing his steps, he ceded the lead and let Thor walk ahead.
"OI! Sophia! I've come! It's Thor, I've come! Wahahaha!"
No sooner had he taken the lead than Thor bellowed for the innkeeper at the top of his lungs. So thunderous was the bellow that the patrons, mid-laugh and mid-drink, all turned to squint at him.
Before long, a woman came hurrying out from the kitchen in back, drying her hands on a towel.
"Oh my, Thor! How long has it been!"
Thor strode right up and clamped a hand firmly around one of her buttocks.
"I've missed this springy ass of yours! Wahahaha!"
"Hoh, Thor, still as forward as ever, I see!"
Sophia's voice was soft and lilting, a pleasure to the ear—feminine to the bone, one might say. She looked to be in her late thirties, her long brown hair gathered at the middle and tied off snugly with a butterfly-shaped ribbon.
"Thor, and who might this young man be?"