Core

First Meeting (The First Turn)

"Monsieur Gunter," He smiled at the old man as he placed the heavy box filled with metal weapon made by his father on the table. The old man, Gunter, returned the smile as he limped over to the box and opened it with care. He reached in and pulled out one of the many weapons arranged properly and with care, inspected the dagger. He whistled in amazement at the craftsmanship, running his finger gingerly at the sharp blade.

"As skilled as always, your father." Satisfied, Gunter placed back the dagger and reached to his back pocket to pull out a small pouch of silver coins and handed it to the ginger. Caelum took it and opened the pouch. He nodded and tilted the tattered cap down. "Merci. I must get going now." Just as he gave his farewell, he noticed a slightly crumpled letter on the ground as he turned. He picked it up and asked whether it was the old man's, to which it wasn't.

He turned the letter to see an address on it but there was no name, however. "Would you mind sending the letter, young man? It must have been one of my customers." While Caelum wasn't one to do something this troublesome, he wasn't going to say no. Besides, his instinct told him to do send the letter for something big might happen.

For good, or for the worst, he didn't know. It didn't matter, because his dear uncle had told him to always follow his instinct no matter what.

"I'll do it. Good day." With that, he ducked out the weapon dealer's stall, tucking the letter into his pocket with care. He pulled his cap lower as he swiftly weaved his way through the crowd, keeping his eyes from staring at anyone for a second too long. There were merchants and killers all around him after all, armed and definitely could kill him with ease. He still wanted to live.

Once he was out of the market and in a more secluded area, he took a look at the address once and nodded to himself. The house right at the edge of the village, the cold, big house which was said to be the cursed house for the incident many years back. Caelum honestly didn't believe that there was such thing as cursed house, no matter how true the rumours and housewives tales were.

But the house owner was always travelling, or so he had heard. It was because of that he didn't particularly liked going near that area. The house gave a lifeless, cold and dead vibe whenever the owner wasn't around. He huffed and pulled his cap up to ruffle his ginger hair before wearing the cap again.

And so, he walked to the house, memories serving him well as always because it didn't take him too long to find the house. Granted, it was one of the largest house around, but their village had one of the most confusing roads that could potentially be a labyrinth.

He blinked in surprise that the house had lost the vibe. Granted, it was still cold looking, but less dead. He took a deep breath and went to knock the door when a voice of a man, smooth and pleasant to Caelum's ears, was heard.

"What are you doing?"

He jumped and whirled around to come face-to-face with a beige-haired man, half a head taller than him. His icy blue eyes narrowed dangerously at him. Caelum blinked thrice and stammered slightly. "O-oh, uh. I'm looking for the owner of this house."

"That's me."

The ginger immediately pulled the letter out of his pocket and handed it to the man. "Um, I found this in the weapon dealer, Monsieur Gunter's stall." If possible, the man's eyes narrowed even more. He screamed internally, couldn't understand how that could happen. "How do I know that you didn't steal it?" That? That Caelum didn't know how to answer. He had no proof that he didn't steal that letter.

"You don't." He slowly said, carefully as he mentally arranged his words. "I've no proof that I didn't steal it, but I didn't. If you can't believe me, I can't do anything as well. However, the seal was still intact." He held his gaze, not backing down. His late uncle had said before that to make a point, he should square his shoulders and stand tall, eyes never wavering. He had also said that these methods should only be used to those whom he was sure that wouldn't potentially kill him, since it was the period where killers were everywhere.