Zethir sat on the toilet seat. The toilet cover was down, and his legs were crossed while his eyes were shut. Quietly, he focused energy on his ears.

  Countless whispers entered his mind, as well as the clattering of pans and plates. He could even hear things from outside. The stimulus made him furrow his brows, his brain feeling like it was about to pop.

  But alas, he found his targets of eavesdropping.

  “...whatever,” a woman's voice trickled into his ears, along with the company of many others.

  “...Valentina…” a man's voice called out to the woman, but the next moment, a torrent of noises blocked his hearing.

  “Tch,” Zethir gritted his teeth, channeling more energy to his ears. Faintly, he could feel warm blood trickling down the sides of his face.

  However, the noise continued for a few minutes, before he managed to focus on the voices again.

  “Vhiere, I'm glad you enjoyed today's meal…” the chef, he assumed, said.

  Afterward, the man and the chef chatted for a while, and his face slowly went rigid. But soon, the spying had to end.

  “Vhiere… Valentina… who's the chef?” Zethir focused hard, but the three didn't speak much else. By the time Vhiere and Valentina left, it had already been half an hour.

  “Ha…” Zethir opened his eyes and stood up, only to wobble. His body leaned forward, and he hurriedly planted his hands on the door, keeping himself from losing balance.

  “Damn it, arh,” he covered his ears, trying to ward off the persitent ringing. “Earleon better be able to fix this,” mumbling, he took a deep breath.

  Then, opening the door, he washed his hands and left the restroom. He didn't even do what he came there for—he already spent enough time and didn't want to spend more.

  “Where’ve you been?” Julien lifted an eyebrow as Zethir approached their seats. Him and Hans had already finished eating, while Earleon still had half of his steak untouched.

  Meanwhile, Zethir's steak was barely eaten.

  “To the restroom,” Zethir shook his head. “Earleon, I don't feel well.”

  “I'll try to treat it,” he smiled. “Will you keep eating?”

  “No,” Zethir curtly replied.

  “Alright. Then, let's leave,” Earleon stood up, much to the surprise of the other two.

  “Hey, what about the desert?” Hans grumbled. Julien looked reluctant too.

  “It's a specialty here, something about an exotic red jelly—”

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  “No,” Zethir cut off Julien's words. “We are not eating any of the specialties in this place.”

  “Why not?” Julien frowned, displeased at Zethir.

  “Just listen,” Zethir glanced at him before turning around to leave.

  Earleon rubbed his throbbing forehead. “Julien, don't mind him. I'll explain later,” he smiled at the man. When Julien nodded he followed after Earleon.

  “Well, I guess we'll leave now,” Hans sighed, standing up and following the duo. Julien also stood, but his eyes narrowed at Zethir's back.

  “Pompous…”

  After paying, the quartet was captured by a poet telling a tale of a long forgotten god. They weren't alone, and a crowd gathered around the poet in one corner of the street.

  “...in pursuit of love, the god of…”

  “Will you explain what that was about, Earl?” Julien nudged Earleon's shoulded, who looked at him.

  “It's about our… goal in this place,” he whispered, discreetly glancing around. “I'll tell you more later. But, that place was rather dubious.”

  “I see,” Julien lowered his head. “But I've been curious, since when did you start following that guy around?”

  Earleon raised an eyebrow. “Zethir?”

  Julien nodded.

  “Well, I'm not—”

  “Then BAM! The god of…”

  “...” Earleon glanced at the poet, who was pouring his heart out. Clearing his throat, he turned back at Julien. “I'm not following Zethir, who told you that?”

  “It looked like it,” Julien grinned. “You're a strict man, and if I may be rude, quite anti-social. But then came Zethir, and you became a different person.”

  Earleon's lips flattened.

  In his silence, the poet's words trickled between them.

  “...in pursuit of love, the god of love threw everything away, even his divinity. But alas, the goddess of karma wasn't one to be grounded. In the end, the god of love was betrayed over and over again, until…”

  “I have my reasons, Julien.”

  Julien sneered, crossing his arms and turning his gaze toward the poet. Seeing him listening to the poet, Earleon inwardly sighed, before looking at Zethir. The man had closed his eyes the moment the poet started talking.

  ‘God of love… he had his reasons, and so do I. Though, it's not as pure as something like love,’ he thought, before looking at the cloudless sky.

  He couldn't help but frown.

  “Oi, what're you two chatting about?” Hans butted in. Earleon looked at him, and saw the man holding a bucket of fried chicken.

  However, the chicken was a bit on the “extra” crispy side, to the point it was nearly black.

  “Nothing. When did you leave?” He asked, bewildered. All four of them gathered around the poet a few minutes ago, and he didn't notice Hans leaving.

  “Huh? Didn't I say I was going to buy some snacks? Hey, Zethir, vouch for me, man.”

  “He did,” Zethir stated.

  "I didn't hear," Earleon shrugged. “Come, let's go back to the inn.”

  “What?” Hans nearly dropped the bucket. “I haven't even listened to the poet—heck, we barely stayed here for ten minutes! We're already leaving?”

  “You can stay if you want,” Zethir looked at him, as if looking at an idiot.

  “Nevermind,” Hans groaned, his shoulders drooping down.

  “I'll stay for a bit longer,” Julien said, not turning his gaze away from the performing poet. Hans was surprised, before a grin wiped the pout on his face.

  “Sweet! Like, you really know how to save my ass, man!” He laughed, patting Julien's back playfully.

  Earlen looked at them, watching as Julien remained frozen like a statue. On the other hand, Zethir couldn't care less. He was already on his way back to the inn.

  “Julien…” Earleon narrowed his eyes, before turning around to follow after Zethir.

  “Say, Hans,” Julien spoke, startling Hans who just bit into a fried chicken leg. “Do you believe that people can change?”

  “Huh? Of course. People change all the time,” he said, chewing loudly. Meanwhile, the poet began telling his second tale.

  “Why'd you ask?” Hans glanced at Julien, who was watching the show unblinkingly.

  “If people can change, what about gods?”

  “Gods?” Hans suddenly felt that the chicken in his mouth lost texture. “Man. You're like, acting weird. What's up? Are you okay?”

  “If not gods,” Julien continued, ignoring Hans, who was slowly putting down his bucket of chicken.

  “Then what about angels?”

  Suddenly, a round of applause filled the area. Julien shook his head, his eyes glowing a gentle shade of magenta.

  Hans licked his lips, not knowing what to do. “Julien?”

  “Zethir, did you find anything at the restaurant?” Earleon watched Zethir, who was wiping a kitchen knife clean. He seemed to have found one of Zethir's hobbies.

  Zethir bought the knife on their way to the inn; and while small, it was well-made. The edges could slice and dice, and the tip could pierce.

  “There's a man and a woman… a noble and a royalty. They were being served by a chef making an exotic dish,” Zethir's eyes squinted.

  “It's human flesh, I'm sure of it. And that chef must've been the man from my dream—unless… Anyhow, Vhiere should be the noble, and Valentina should be the royalty. However, I couldn't get the chef's name,” he sighed.

  Earleon blinked. “Wait. Valentina Yve Targia? The princess?”

  “You know her?” Zethir cast a doubtful look at Earleon, who was even more perplexed.

  “You don't know her?” he couldn't help but laugh in disbelief. “Valentina Yve Targia is the eight princess of the kingdom. Her history is quite a mess… her original name was Valentina Solien Yve.”

  ~~~

  Meanwhile…

  “...yes, they plan to kill you.”

  A distorted voice echoed out in one of Nea City’s dark alleys. Nothing could be seen, not even a silhouette. Only the voice was the proof of the person's existence.

  “...no, they have not made a move yet.”

  “...yes, they are here.”

  Then, there was a long pause.

  “...yes, I am here with them…”

  The voice said, before disappearing as if it was a mere phantom