Alexander, Daron, and William, along with an old horse trudging heavily behind them, finally reached the city of Scarbi. The moment they entered, Alexander felt the scent of civilization creeping into his nose after days of nothing but dirt and forest.
The buildings were far more developed than anything he’d seen along the road; most were built of stone this time instead of wood, their gray surfaces polished smooth by the years, and people moved about in clean, neatly kept gray and brown clothing, wooden carts creaking softly over the cobbled streets.
As they made their way through the streets, several people began calling out to Daron, congratulating him on the birth of his child, their voices overlapping with the noise of the nearby market, and he answered them with clear joy and happiness, the smile never leaving his face.
William gestured toward a wide, pale open arena, ringed by stone stands that could seat hundreds of spectators, and said:
"This is where you’ll be fighting, boy."
Alexander had already realized as much. Looking at the arena’s size and the height of its currently empty stands, the place did seem fit for combat, and he felt a faint shiver run down his back at the thought of it filled with screaming crowds.
At that moment, he heard a woman’s scream, sharp and trembling, cutting through the market noise like a knife. He turned quickly to find a man beating her mercilessly, his hand coming down on her without hesitation, while she could only try to shield herself with her arms.
Alexander looked at his father and Daron, expecting them to move at once to save her. But they did nothing. They kept walking at the same steady pace, as though what was happening were just another ordinary part of the market’s noise.
(What are they doing? How can a man beat a woman in front of everyone like this, and how can Father and Daron just ignore it so easily?)
"Aren’t we going to do something?"
Daron answered simply, as if discussing some everyday matter:
"Why would we? That’s Arthur. He’s always beating his wife — I think she actually likes it."
Alexander felt something boiling in his chest, an anger he hadn’t expected from himself. This world was nothing like his own in almost any way, but he wasn’t prepared to accept this particular thing. He stepped toward the man without thinking, his voice quiet but clearly audible:
"Stop that. Now."
Arthur looked at his face and paused mid-strike, then said:
"Something wrong here, son of William?"
The woman’s eyes, red from crying, avoided looking at anyone — as though she were used to having her misery ignored, day after day.
Arthur had looked short while bent over his wife, but once he straightened up, he looked like the tallest man in the city. His face didn’t help him appear intimidating, though; he was missing several teeth, and his gap-toothed grin made him look more like a joke than a threat.
Alexander replied:
"Yes. I told you to stop hitting this woman."
"She’s my wife. Why would I stop hitting her?"
Alexander figured this era probably didn’t think much of respecting women, but he didn’t want to be like them, or to mimic their ways in everything.
So he repeated himself:
"Just get away from her."
At that, Daron stepped forward, his voice suddenly sharp, every trace of humor gone from it:
"Don’t you hear what my brother is saying, Arthur? Step away from your wife. Now."
Arthur took two steps back and raised his hand, saying:
"Alright, alright... but tell your brother to stay out of things that don’t concern him."
Daron took his brother by the arm and pulled him away from Arthur, then said in a calmer voice:
"What are you doing? It doesn’t matter. He’ll go right back to hitting her later. They’re a strange family."
Then he looked at Alexander and said with a smile returning to his face:
"Still, that was brave of you back there, boy."
Alexander looked at his brother. He realized Daron wasn’t a weak man at all; a single word from him, in that sharp tone, had been enough to make someone like Arthur back off despite his height and bulk. He began feeling genuine curiosity about this family’s history in this city.
They finally arrived at the physician’s house, in a narrow alley thick with the scent of dried herbs. Daron had explained along the way that he’d brought his wife to her because he was too jealous to let another man near her, and that this physician wasn’t exactly pleasant, so they’d just have to endure her manner.
Daron knocked on the old wooden door and waited.
The first thing Alexander heard was a curse coming from inside the house, dry and sharp. That’s when he knew everything Daron had said was true.
The physician opened the door with a harsh look on her face. Her hair was almost entirely white, her face wrinkled like an old sheet of paper. Yes, she was elderly, but there was something strangely beautiful about her to Alexander.
Daron raised his hand and said with obvious cheer:
"Alexandra, my beautiful physician... how’s my child and my wife?"
She looked at him with disgust, then opened the door wider and said flatly:
"Get in."
The men stepped inside, and the place looked genuinely wretched, dust dancing in a single beam of light. Alexander could barely breathe comfortably, and the barking of her dog was unbearably loud, echoing between the cramped walls.
He couldn’t imagine how this place could possibly be suitable for a childbirth, but no one else seemed to mind.
Daron pulled back the curtain to reveal his wife, waiting for him with a tired smile, their son sleeping peacefully in her arms.
The baby was truly beautiful, small, with hair as white as snow, standing out sharply against everyone around him.
Daron approached his wife, then carefully lifted the baby and handed him to his father William, saying proudly:
"Told you so... he’s beautiful, and his hair’s white."
William lifted the child with pure joy, his rough hands cradling him with unexpected gentleness, then traced the sign of the cross on his chest with his finger and said quietly:
"I hope he receives the same Blessing as his grandfather... the Strength Blessing."
Then the father handed the baby back to his mother, and the two exchanged a silent smile, before Daron said:
"Time to head out."
The old physician looked at him with sudden anger and said:
"You there... it’s time to pay up."
Daron looked at her and said:
"But I already paid you what you’re owed."
She spat into a cup in front of her with contempt, then looked at him and said:
"That was the fee for delivering the child. Not for keeping her here."
"Old woman, you’re the one who told me to leave her here for a while!"
"And didn’t I tell you every hour costs a gold coin?"
Daron shoved his hand into his pocket quickly and angrily, pulling out three gold coins that jingled in his palm. He handed one to the physician and said tightly:
"You’re a thief, old woman."
She started laughing as she looked at the money, a dry, rough laugh, then replied:
"No one cares, so long as the money’s in my hand."
Alexander laughed behind them, watching the old woman rob his brother right in front of his eyes with total confidence.
But suddenly, he felt something rushing toward him from behind, light footsteps quickening across the dirt floor.
He turned around to find some strange creature with the very same bark he’d been hearing.
Alexander tried to defend himself, but the creature was faster than him. It clamped down on his head with powerful jaws, and Alexander began thrashing violently, trying to tear it off, until he stumbled out of the house without knowing what he was doing, screaming in a voice mixed between pain and panic.
The creature had no intention of letting go.
William rushed forward trying to help him in front of everyone who had quickly gathered to watch, while Daron stood behind them laughing without a shred of mercy.
The creature kept biting down on Alexander’s head with all its strength, deepening his pain. Alexander grabbed it with his left hand and started pulling with everything he had.
The physician stepped forward, screaming furiously:
"Don’t you dare hurt my animal, boy!"
Alexander wasn’t listening to her, and he didn’t care what she had to say. All that mattered was getting this creature off of him.
(Damn this thing! It’s biting me... if I had a sword I’d kill it!)
William grabbed the creature firmly with his right hand and said a single dry word:
"Darkness."
And in an instant, the creature let go of Alexander.
But the creature collapsed to the ground unconscious, amid the physician’s screaming, which suddenly rose in pitch:
"What did you do to my animal, Roger? You man! If it dies, you’ll pay for it! That was a good animal!"
William said with total calm, as though nothing had happened:
"Nothing happened to it, old woman. It’s just asleep."
Alexander caught his breath, his face covered in scratches, bite marks bleeding slightly. The injuries weren’t serious, but they were enough to leave a burning pain.
"Curse your animal, and curse you too, old woman... if I had a sword I would’ve cut that hideous creature’s head clean off!"
The creature was covered in thick fur, plump, with small lumps instead of ears, breathing slowly as it lay unconscious on the ground.
The old woman snapped back:
"I really don’t know what got into him. He knows the scent of every visitor to this city — he usually only attacks strangers."
William said:
"It’s fine, Alexander. It’s just an animal."
"Do you not see my face? It bit me hard!"
Then Alexander fell silent, realizing he’d lost his temper even with his own father, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at himself.
This was something that happened to him even in his real world; he’d always been quick to anger, never fully in control of himself when he got worked up.
William didn’t respond.
But from behind him, all Alexander could hear was his brother Daron laughing.
"Did you see that, William? Alexander’s started getting angry too now."
William said quietly, studying his son closely:
"Yes. I noticed that."
Alexander looked at the two of them, realizing he was making a mistake every single second and minute, and that eventually something would come along and expose everything he was doing.
(He’s starting to suspect something, this father... he knows I’m not really his son. I need to get out of here before he cuts off my head, right here, in this city.)
Then he began hearing the sound of a group of men running behind him, heavy, hurried footsteps.
He turned to find they were Templars — though it seemed these were the city’s own local branch, their armor lighter than that of the knights from the first battle.
Three of them reached William, their breathing ragged from running, while the rest kept charging past, shouting:
"Don’t let her get away, that cursed woman!"
One of the knights spoke to William quickly, urgency clear in his voice:
"My lord, we need your help... we’ve found a witch using black magic in this city again."
Daron stepped forward to speak on his father’s behalf, his tone suddenly serious:
"He just came from a battle. I don’t think he’s fit for this."
One of the knights insisted:
"Truly, my lord, we need the help. There may be more than one witch out there — or a warlock."
William looked into his son Daron’s eyes for a long, silent moment, then said firmly:
"I’ll go. This could turn dangerous and hurt the city down the line... you take your wife and head home. I’ll take Alexander with me."
"But he’s not ready."
"He’s already fought against ordinary practitioners... perhaps now it’s time he faces black-magic witches too."