The bell attached to the ceiling rang when someone opened the door. It notified everyone inside that a new guest had arrived. Then again, most of them were already busy with their own shenanigans, leaving them with no care nor attention towards that. It was just an addition to the warm and cozy ambiance within this particular inn.

However, it was a different case for the owner of the inn. Garam was his name.

He had put that bell with one purpose in mind.

His old ears, as sharp as they could be at his age, would catch the echoing sound while standing (or sometimes sitting down) behind the counter. Then, with both eyes–hidden under the thick eyebrows that had whitened two decades ago–he looked at the visitors that entered his establishment. He assessed their walk, clothes, and the unspoken reasons for being there. 

He had a policy of accepting all of them, though there was one bitter exception. 

Garam hated soldiers. 

He would take bandits any day. At least those vile and corrupted bastards laid bare their animalistic fangs for everyone to judge. They were animals, and they knew it themselves. If the situation demanded it, Garam had no remorse in dealing that kind of evil with his own hands. 

Soldiers, however, were a different breed. Hiding behind their polished armor and lofty causes, they killed in the name of glory. Even death became something noble in their eyes. In a world drowning in violence, he despised all of it. 

So, when his gaze fell on a one-armed young man and a golden-haired girl who had welcomed their presence in his inn, Garam grew suspicious. The young man’s lack of limbs seemed to hide a story. The young girl’s unnatural hair color also stole the spotlight. Even the other visitors who sat at many tables couldn’t help but stare. 

“They are staring at us, aren’t they?” Helena asked. 

Since they entered the inn, she always stood and walked beside Pierrot. Being around so many people was an unfamiliar feeling. It posed a challenge for her, and Pierrot couldn’t blame her for that. Instead, he took the utmost care to shorten his steps and always hover his arm near her just like how a shield would work. 

They walked between two tables set side by side. Within a few steps, they arrived at the counter where an old man stood. He hunched over, making his already small stature look even shorter. Also, it might be because of Pierrot’s sharp intuition, but he felt an intense stare behind the old man’s thick white eyebrows. 

He tensed up. Whoever the old man was, Pierrot felt the need to be cautious. 

“Excuse me,” Pierrot said. “Do you have two empty rooms?”

Garam let that question linger in the air for a while–almost for a minute, in fact. During that silence, Pierrot swallowed his spit. Helena, still standing next to him, sensed the intensifying air around them. Strangely enough, it didn’t come from Garam. Someone was staring at her, and she didn’t know where that person was–or that something.

At last, one of them uttered something. 

“Coins or paper?” Garam said. 

It must be about the payment, Pierrot thought. But paper? Is there even paper money?

He wasn’t aware of the latter. The fact that Garam had even mentioned it piqued his curiosity about the existence of this so-called paper money. But at the same time, it wasn’t the most important part to think about right now.

“Coins,” he answered. 

“Four silver coins then. Direct payment at full price now.”

Not too expensive nor too cheap. Pierrot felt that was a fair price. He glanced at Helena who understood the assignment. From a pocket on her skirt, she pulled out a pouch containing tens of coins–bronze, silver, and gold–cluttered together. 

At first, it didn’t sit right with Pierrot that Helena had to bear both of their burdens at the same time. But he had no other choice. His pockets were empty, and he didn’t have anything to sell nor barter. Feeling ashamed, he made a promise to himself. The moment he got his hands on some coins, the first thing he would do was treat Helena. 

Four coins fell onto Garam’s palm. He checked them for a while before giving his customers two keys. 

“The two rooms in the far right corner of the second floor.”

“Thank you,” both of them said simultaneously. 

Once the transaction met its end, Pierrot and Helena walked away. Each step brought them further, away from the old man whose stare had only intensified. The reason for that was unknown, for Pierrot had done nothing in his vicinity as well. After all, it had barely been five minutes since his first step inside.

An assumption was all the crippled man could do, but that alone was enough to disrupt his passing thoughts.

And that led his attention to shift towards Helena, his companion.

That Helena was a Witch, and somehow, that old man realized it as well.

Could it be because of her golden hair?

Or how she evaded other people—other humans—that existed in close to her proximity?

He had no way of knowing, but being careful never hurt.

“Hey, do you feel something staring at you?” Helena asked.

“You feel it as well?”

“Yeah….”

After a moment, they found an empty table to rendezvous together. Others could still see them, of course, not to mention Garam with eyes that had never let them go.

“He is still looking at us,” Pierrot said, lowering his head and voice.

Following his line of sight, Helena noticed that the owner of this inn was the individual Pierrot had meant. “Oh, the owner is the one who has been staring at you?”

“At us, actually.” His hands were flat on the table. “That’s not the case with you?”

“I don’t think so….It’s just back at home, there were many small animals that come and go. Sometimes they stopped near the cottage and just stared at me. Before I know it, I’ve developed a keen sense towards them.”

“Especially since you’re surrounded by forest.”

“Totally! There was this squirrel who kept coming back to the cottage. I named her ‘Snappy,’ and she—”

Her face flared red when the embarrassment for having blabbered settled in. In a heartbeat, Helena closed her mouth, both lips pressed as secured as a lock.

“So, someone else is staring at you now?”

“O-or something….”

“Something like?”

“….”

Both of them shuddered together. In silence, they had agreed not to let another word. They might think of something different, but in such a situation, not knowing was a blessing.

“L-let’s just rest, shall we?” Pierrot offered. “You must be tired.”

“A-and you too! Resting is always important, yup!”

Once their exchange ended, the two of them approached the stairs and scaled the steps one by one. Pierrot made a quick glance at the desk. The old man was still there, though he no longer stared at him. With the weight of his gaze, one blurred with pressure, melted into the background, the young man sighed.

A few steps afterward, they arrived at their designated rooms. As Pierrot was about to push the handle down, Helena turned and looked at him. She had a smile on her face.

“Seems like our rooms are side by side again,” Helena said. 

Pierrot had just noticed that too. Things might not be too different, after all.

“Then, have a nice dream.”

“You too, Pierrot.”

***

Pierrot woke up with a headache. He rolled around, changing his position until the mattress beneath him didn’t feel as hard as before. His effort was futile, however, and after realizing that, he gave up trying to slumber again into another sleep. 

He sat on the edge of the bed. Both legs were already on the floor. The clock’s hands he had seen before sleeping had moved further a few hours. It was 8 PM now–he had slept for the entire day. Without even looking outside–besides the lack of a window in this room–he knew how dark the sky had turned.

Surprisingly, those nightmares didn’t return. He might have been so tired that the world spared him for now. It would be quite laughable if that were the case. Either way, he just felt some kind of relief to be liberated from those haunting dreams even for a single day. 

Still, he was worried about something else. Those lost hours could be the invitation for Malin and his men to chase them sooner than expected. But sleeping was necessary. Helena and he had been on the brink of collapsing from fatigue. Of course he couldn’t have risked it. Also, it wasn’t as if he could turn back time, too.

What mattered most was the next action they should take. The route they should take, what could be the obstacles waiting on their path too–both became his priority.

“Damn it.”

Pierrot palmed his temple. The more he thought about it, escaping one time from a Witch Hunter didn’t mean both of them were safer. Instead, that they ran away could seal them with a more devastating fate.

This closed place made him paranoid. The more he stared at the walls, the more it felt they were getting close to him. Some spots had darkened as well. This moody atmosphere only made him more agitated, and this damp smell his nose had been subjected to since he first stepped into this room tried to suffocate him.

“I need to go outside.”

Thus Pierrot took off, leaving the captivity of his own mind. Once he left his room, he was confronted by the empty inn. Different from this afternoon, he saw no one sitting or chatting at the tables that the owner had set. Not even a single murmur could be heard, just the growling silence that soon enough buzzed in his ears. 

It wasn’t a surprise. The night had fallen, so people must be in need of sleep. Helena was one of them, and he only hoped she was sleeping soundly. 

Pierrot walked down the stairs, trying to muffle his steps as much as possible. Feeling uncomfortable with his dry mouth and throat, he planned to ask for a glass of water. He hoped it wouldn’t cost an additional coin since the pouch, all safe and sound, was still in Helena’s hands. 

He made his way towards the counter. 

“Excuse–”

Pierrot stopped his voice halfway. That old man was still there to greet him while sitting behind the counter. What stopped Pierrot from talking was the old man’s face, with both eyes shut and relaxed facial muscles. He swore he heard soft snores at a relatively consistent tempo. 

There’s no need to wake him up, then.

For now, he could kill time by walking outdoors. The air should be cold enough to bite into his bones, giving that well-needed jolt to awake him completely. But before he made a single step toward the front door, someone spoke. 

“What do you need?”

Pierrot turned around and saw that same old man awake. Those eyes were peeking under his thick eyebrows. It felt the same as before–intense and pressuring him down onto the floor. 

“I wonder if the lodging fee already includes some food and drink,” Pierrot said. 

“Only water.”

“Okay. And may I ask where I can get it?”

“....Wait on the table. I’ll bring it to you.”

“O-oh, thank you.”

Garam got out of the wooden chair and walked towards the door behind him. Being left alone, Pierrot had nothing to do besides sit down similar to what he was told to do. The wooden bench creaked under his weight, telling him to go easy on it. 

One minute later, Garam returned to the main hall. He carried two cups; one he put in front of Pierrot while the other one was for himself. It was the moment when Pierrot realized that the old man had been planning to sit beside him this entire time. Of course, he couldn’t possibly ask the owner of this inn to sit on the other empty benches. Still, that intense pressure behind the gaze he had felt the first time they had met froze him a little. 

So at the end, he just said, “Thank you.”

The old man didn’t answer. He preferred to freshen his throat rather than humoring Pierrot’s simple gratitude. Minutes had passed, and eventually, the silence between them made Pierrot uncomfortable. As the younger person here, not to mention as a patron as well, he wanted no altercation with the owner, so he warmed the atmosphere by breaking this looming quietness.

“May I know your name, Sir?” Pierrot asked right after taking a sip, which rejuvenated his whole body instantly. 

“Garam,” he answered. The way his thick white beard moved following his mouth flaps looked funny to Pierrot, though he didn’t mention it of course. 

“I see. Mr. Garam, it’s quite a unique name. Have you always lived here?”

“I moved here from Ciprus Kingdom.”

Ciprus Kingdom–another kingdom which lived on the Altia Continent. On the map, it was located down south from the Aethel Kingdom, only separated by mountains that stood tall amidst mists.

“Ohh!” Pierrot knew no one from Ciprus Kingdom, so he was intrigued to hear more. “If you don’t mind answering, what was the reason you moved here, Mr. Garam?”

Instead of answering, however, Garam let his silence speak for itself. Such a personal question, Pierrot understood Garam’s decision of not answering, though he also felt a bit disappointed. 

They took another sip at the same time. 

“Tell me, kid,” Garam said. The sudden topic change stunned Pierrot a little, but he still listened intently. “A soldier, aren’t you?”

It took a while for Pierrot to answer. Garam had no reason to know about it. 

“....I used to.“

“Why is that?”

Pierrot remembered the interrogation that Malin had done to him. It felt quite different this time. Instead of the sensation being laid bare, Garam’s question attempted to understand him. Like a wise old man told in many fairy tales often read as children’s bedtime stories, his presence both soothed and unsettled him.

I don’t think he had any bad intentions, though….

And following the voice inside Pierrot’s own mind was a question; what could an old man like him do?

Ego thought on Pierrot’s behalf, a question which appeared to belittle the old man. Although he meant no harm with it, with a bit of consciousness, he apologized with a murmur inside his head, one that the owner couldn’t hear.

Therefore, he expanded on the nightmares that the battlefield had instilled in him, and later on his meeting with Helena. Still, Pierrot kept some words within himself, leaving the crucial details for Garam to fill in.

“....So that’s why I stopped. I don’t think my hand can handle another weight of life. I know that to a certain degree, I’m a coward for thinking that. But I can’t betray the truth that I really fear the future where I have to kill and be killed. 

“And honestly, if possible, I want to focus on travelling with my partner.”

After uttering the last word, Pierrot took another sip. His mouth was reinvigorated now, ready to speak more. 

“How did you know, Sir?”

“Not many people walk around one-armed nowadays unless they are on the battlefield. Besides, I won’t mistake those eyes, for I also had the same look once.”

“Were you a soldier too?”

Garam nodded. “So I understand your point. You’re a fortunate person. The curse hasn’t swallowed you yet. Once it did, you would spiral down until there was no sight. You were lucky to have understood that early on. 

“I see….”

“And do you care about her?”

“Yes.” Pierrot didn’t hesitate.

At that moment, Garam turned to look at Pierrot. Although having to look down a little, the latter now saw the reflection in the old man’s eyes. They hold a faint, distant hue staring at nowhere.

“Then, please forgive this old man for such an insensitive question,” he said. “But will you ever leave her?”