Wherever it takes us.

A Guilty Conscience Needs No Accuser

"I need some evidence of identification," I tell her in a monotonous tone with my arm outstretched.

How my day went from waking up to train with my Uncle to demanding identification from this female merchant is beyond me.

I don't think I can ever get used to this. I thought the woman in question looked towards me with a troubled expression.

The sky was a nice orange color; as the sun was about to set.

I could feel some breeze rush around us, reminding me of the last time such happened around me. "Why should I show evidence to a stranger again?" She responds sarcastically, to which I sigh in response.

Of course, her reasoning made a lot of sense, but here's the problem.

My social skills are incredibly rusty; the only person I've conversed with these past few years was my Uncle Ben.

I could hear CX's obnoxious laugh at the back of my head, "Where did your social skills go to die again?" He asks.

Shut it. I thought in response.

I heaved a heavy sigh. "Look, do you by any chance know Benjamin Hart?" She stared at me with a look that held pure bewilderment, "You know, for a customer, this seems a bit too personal." She tells me, her voice laced with uncertainty.

"Hold on, let me show you something," I respond before lowering myself to search through my bag. "Here," I said as I pulled out a small coin, which was bronze in color; on the surface was a carved insignia. "H-h-how do you have that?" She asks me with her eyes wide.

"How else?" I respond sternly. In the middle of the coin was the sign of the Hart family. A capital letter H was written, similar to the one on my bathrobe three years ago.

She glances at me before abruptly stealing the coin out of my palm.

Her eyes stared at it with wonders of amazement; as her fingers played with the coin for a moment. "The Royal Seal?" She asks cautiously, "Are you the one Ben was talking about?" She requests her aura, becoming somewhat timid. I took a breath to ponder my choice of words; I didn't want to cause too much trouble.

"Listen, all I want is some answers, yeah?" I start calmly, keeping my voice smooth. "Could you please help me? Uncle Ben said I could trust you."

"Well, Jason Hart, I do know your Uncle." She informs me with a quiet smile, "And I also know that's it is about time for supper, so let's be on our way shall we."

In a few minutes, we were walking down the lonely path of the town.

The air around us slowly got chilly as the moon crept higher into the sky.

Last time I checked, Lancer market square was a place of business and shelter.

My eyes quickly scour the houses around us. On both sides were lines of wooden houses. They all had the same look: a wooden frame, walls of plaited branches covered with clay, and a straw-thatched roof, which seemed odd to me. Records of revenue and overall income, this place was one of the highest in the kingdom back then.

"It's not what it looks like." She tells me without glancing back, "We used to be prosperous and wealthy; it all vanished with the arrival of the Revolutionists. The greedy pigs they are." She rounds up before making a sharp turn to the left. In front of us stood another house.

"Here's my place, shall we?" She asks, to which I nod calmly. As she opened the door, the first thing that hit me: this place was surprisingly neat. They were wax candles placed around the living room, giving off a nice warm feeling about the place. Towards my left was a wooden set of chairs surrounding a brown wooden table, while what was in front of me seemed to be two average-sized mattresses stuffed with wool.