Overlord and the Seraphim

『Names』

Rhome and Driskel stood in front of the mirror of the rest room. Their eyes glued on the white chief's uniforms with deep red handkerchiefs that they were wearing, before looking to one another.

They were brothers, two slaves which had been bought by a tall man and a young woman who healed them, shielded them from humiliation and dressed them. Their eyes were a silvery grey, their hair dirty blonde with patches of brown near the center of their scalps. Rhome was about five foot nine inches, whilst Driskel was five foot seven inches.

"My brother... This is a bit strange, isn't it?" Drisket spoke in a quiet voice, a lisp evident in his speech patterns, as he rubbed his forearm nervously

"You're not wrong... These clothes are high quality, most slaves don't wear these," Rhome gestured towards their uniforms, "Though I have no idea how he figured we were good with food... And I would've never known that the squirt that sized us with those weird instruments was so skilled..." Looking to the door, he watched as the knob turned. "Hm?"

That's when a short adult figure appeared, thin yet long pointed ears twitching slightly at the sight of the two men. It was an elf, a rather short one to be exact. She had wavy black hair and sickly white skin, with mystically elegant green eyes.

She was wrapped tightly in a fluffy white and blue towel, a dry change of clothes tucked under one of her arms.

"Oi, this is the ladies room!"

Both of the men's eyes lit up in confusion, "What?" Their voices overlapped at a high pitch.

Keeping her arms her arms loosely, her right hand hanging from the left elbow limply. "Did you not see the sign that was pinned to the door?" The elf didn't seem at all fearful of the two human males.

If anything her voice carried arrogance and a heavy sense of self-confidence.

"No.. We didn't..." Truth be told, neither of the men could read! Yet, they weren't going to say anything about it and hurried for the door and stepped out.

Taking a deep breath, the oldest brother let out a heavy sigh.

"Rhome, I don't see a sign." Driskel's eyes were staring at the wooden door of the restroom, his index finger pointing right at it.

Rhome glared at the blank door before shrugging, "Women," he almost immediately calmed down before he could get worked up. "Lets go to the Kitchen. We're supposed to meet the Master."

"Do you think he's actually nice?" Driskel bit into the interior of his upper lip, lightly tearing at the skin, getting a small taste of copper in his mouth. Oddly enough, it seemed to calm and his nerves a bit, even though he didn't just stop after he started.

"I'm sure he's a good man... Otherwise he wouldn't have given us these clothes to wear." Even though neither of these grown men could read, at least Rhome could recognize the worth of the clothes from how the fabric felt on his skin and how it was presented.

Driskel stared at the sleeve of his right arm before nodded slowly, letting his hands fall to his sides. "Why do you think he bought so many of us though...?"

Rhome just looked over at his brother with this dull looking, definitely judging him for not taking note of how big the place actually was.

Driskel tensed slightly at the judgemental look he was getting. "Alright... Dammit. I'll stop worrying!"

"Good, because it was getting worrisome," the little female elf scoffed as she walked on passed the two of them. She was dressed in a similar chief outfit, but her handkerchief was a pastel blue.