Samsara's POV
I reached the capital at dusk.
The sky was red and gold, and the wind carried the scent of old stone and burning oil. The streets were filled with voices, footsteps, and the clatter of horses.
I sighed heavily. Now that I had arrived, I didn't know where to begin. They say if you're lost, start at the bulletin board.
Hmm. Let's see...
The number of missing children near Mount Bellows is worse than I thought. What could be the reason behind it?
"Watch your path, old hag!"
I turned my head toward the commotion in the central area. An elderly woman lay helpless on the ground, scolded by a furious bystander.
"You bumped into me," the woman said, her voice trembling.
"What did you say?!"
A crowd began to gather. I pushed through as a loud cry pierced the air. Forcing my way to the front, I finally saw what was happening.
The man was kicking the old woman.
"Why don't you just die already? You're old and useless!" he shouted, his voice full of rage.
I stepped forward, fury bubbling under my skin.
"Hey!" My voice rang out sharp, cutting through the crowd's murmurs. The man paused mid-kick, turning toward me, startled. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
He sneered, his fists clenched. "Stay out of this. She's the one who—"
"I don't care what you think she did," I snapped. "She's an elder."
He glanced at my bow and walked toward me, a smirk tugging at his lips. "A mercenary, huh?" he muttered, grabbing the collar of my cloak and yanking it down, letting my hood fall.
His eyes lit up, and his smile widened. "That pretty face of yours could be put to good use. Why don't you and I head somewhere... more private, huh?"
My grip tightened as his fingers dug into my cloak, but I kept my voice level.
"You should let go," I said calmly, eyes locked on his.
He chuckled—low, condescending. "Or what? You'll shoot me in front of all these people?"
The crowd had grown tense. Some watched with wide eyes, others turned away, pretending not to see. The old woman lay forgotten behind him, groaning softly.
"I won't need an arrow," I replied, stepping forward so the tip of my boot touched his.
Something flickered in his eyes—hesitation, maybe. Then he sneered and raised his hand.
But he never finished the motion.
With a swift twist, I broke his grip and shoved him back. He stumbled, arms flailing, crashing into the murmuring crowd like a toppled drunk.
I raised my voice, not for him—but for the watchers. "This is what you stood by for?"
No one answered. I didn't come here to cause any commotion but people keep giving me a reason to.
The man scrambled to his feet, wiping blood from his split lip. His earlier bravado had curdled into something more uncertain, more brittle.
"You'll pay for that," he spat, backing away. "You mercs think you can act above the law?"
I didn't flinch. "Funny. I was about to say the same to you."
The crowd began to scatter, pulled apart by the weight of silence and the unease of bearing witness. Some glanced at me with wariness, others with a flicker of quiet respect. None approached.
I turned to the old woman. She winced as I knelt beside her, but her eyes—clouded with age—held fire.
"Are you hurt?" I asked.
She shook her head slowly, one hand tightening around mine. "Not as much as I am tired."
I helped her to her feet and noticed a wound on her head. "You've got a wound," I said, guiding her to one of the benches.
I eased her down onto the bench, careful not to jostle her head. Her breath came in shallow draws, and a thin trail of blood traced down her temple, disappearing into a mess of silver hair and grit.
She winced but didn't complain. "They don't see us anymore," she murmured. "The old. We're ghosts that still eat."
I crouched beside her, pulling a clean cloth from my satchel. "You're not invisible to me," I said, pressing the fabric gently to the wound.
Her eyes lifted to mine—steady, sharp despite the pain. "Then you're different from the rest."
Behind us, the square had emptied. The man who struck her was long gone.
"Thank you, lady. Are you alone?" She asked. I nod and give her a small smile.
"Mother!" a boy shouted, running toward us. I stood and turned to face him.
"What happened to you? Who did this?!" he asked, his voice rising in panic.
"Arthur, I'm okay," she said gently. "This lady saved me."
Arthur dropped to his knees beside her, cupping her face with trembling hands. His eyes darted to the cloth pressed against her temple, the faint streak of blood now drying on her skin.
"I should've been here," he whispered. "I should've walked with you."
His guilt hung in the air, raw and unfiltered.
She reached up, brushing her fingers against his cheek. "You were working. Making an honest life. Don't carry shame that isn't yours."
I stepped back, giving them space, though my presence lingered like a question unanswered. There was something painfully familiar in Arthur's expression—something I'd buried under years of contracts and coin.
He looked up, eyes locking on mine.
"Thank you," he said, voice thick with emotion.
I nodded once. "She's strong. You're lucky."
He helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm carefully around her shoulders.
"I don't know how to repay you, but come with us and join us for dinner," he offered.
"Ah, it's okay—" The old woman took my hand. I bit my lip and tagged along.
We ate together in the quiet room, just the three of us. The stew was simple—warm, with bits of fish and soft root vegetables. I took small bites.
After we ate, the old woman went to her room to rest. She didn't speak much, but her eyes watched kindly.
"Sorry for the late introduction, I'm Arthur and my mother's name is Synthia." he said after helping his mother.
Oh? A teenage boy knows how to formally held a conversation.
"I'm Samsara."
"You live far from here?"
I nodded. "I just arrived."
"Did you come all the way to the capital to join the Order of Fatui?"
I paused and looked at him. "Are they hiring?"
He nodded. "That's what I heard. A lot of mercenaries are starting to gather at their headquarters to apply."
Well, that's unexpected. The Order of Fatui doesn't usually accept open applications—unless it has something to do with what's happening at Mount Bellows.
"Ever since the number of missing children started rising after what happened at Mount Bellows, the commoners have been living in fear," Arthur said, a sad expression on his face.
"You probably don't know this, but the nobles have been demanding the Argent Sigils for protection—and we're being excluded from them," he continued.
I frowned. I wasn't shocked; nobles like them are known for their selfishness and greed.
Out of the five factions, the Order of Fatui is responsible for protecting the citizens of Aetheria, since the Yashiro Knights under the Riyuka Commissioner are focused on expeditions.
There must be something only the Harbingers know—something they're keeping from the public.
"Do you know how I can join?" I asked seriously. He looked at me, stunned.
"Are you seriously planning to? Y-you should be thinking about your safety!" he exclaimed.
But safety isn't my concern anymore. My hands are full of objectives, and the first step is gathering intel.
I need to know how I ended up in this world, how I can return from it, and why I'm stuck in a loop.
I chuckled. "Even if I'm just a girl, I've managed to survive this long."
"B-but I heard that Sigbins are the reason the children are disappearing—and the citizens are in an uproar. They're taking the children to Mount Bellows," he said.
I sighed and gave him a pitiful look. He probably doesn't understand how this world works. He must've been stuck caring for his mother all this time.
"Hey, kid," I said, locking eyes with him. "Don't let fear crawl into your head. How will you protect your mother if you're scared?"
He lowered his gaze and pressed his lips together. I could tell he wanted to help her, but fear was crushing his confidence.
I noticed it when I first arrived—how this house was surrounded by plants. He's an aspiring botanist, like Nira, the girl I met before reaching the capital.
"Then…" I looked at him as he began to speak. He met my eyes, filled with determination.
"Will you help me?" he asked.
I leaned back and crossed my arms. "Why would you need my help? I'm just a mercenary," I replied, raising a brow.
"I know… but you helped my mother," he said.
"I just happened to pass by, so I helped your mother," I said bluntly. "And I don't know how I'm supposed to help you either."
His expression fell into hopelessness. I knew what he was seeking from me—but I couldn't give it. I didn't even know how to help myself.
I sighed deeply. Being empathetic isn't exactly my forte, but...
"I assume you have some knowledge of plants," I began.
"A-ah, yes. Since my mother's immune system is weak, I started studying plants to make medicine on my own," he said, fidgeting with his hands. "B-but I only know the basics."
"Why don't you try applying for a scholarship at Miravell? They're well known for supporting those with potential, like you," I suggested.
"Plus, once you've passed, they'll provide you with a home and everything you need. You can even bring your mother there," I added.
"I-I wanted to..." He paused, glancing toward his mother's room. "But there's no one to take care of my mother if I apply for Miravell."
The world is surely unfair.
"Fine."
"Pardon?" He looked at me, confused.
I averted my eyes. "I'll help you… but only until you become a scholar."
Silence filled the house. I glanced at him—and flinched when I saw his eyes welling with tears.
"W-why are you crying?"
"Thank you… Y-you're a blessing from heaven," he muttered between sobs.
He's just a kid who wants to live a happy life with his mother.
He kind of reminds me of Anastasius. I met him when he was helpless and offered him support.
Now that he's with the Riyuka Commissioner, I think he'll live a better life.
"But I'm a mercenary," I said playfully.
"I-I don't have any money to pay you yet," he replied.
I stood up and patted his head. "Pay me back once you've earned a title at Miravell."
His eyes lit up. "T-then, can I call you Master?!"
I paused mid-pat. "Master is a bit exaggerated, don't you think? Just call me Samsara."
"No can do! Let me call you Master!" he insisted.
I sighed. Arguing with a kid wouldn't help. "Fine. Suit yourself," I said, grabbing my dagger.
"I'll head out for a bit. It's still early."
"Then I'll prepare your room, Master!"
After I left at home, I hadn't gone far when I stopped.
"I'm not in the mood to play hide and seek. Why don't you come out?" I said irritably, glancing toward the dark alley on the right.
A tall man in a robe stepped out, a sword strapped to his waist.
I'd sensed someone tailing me ever since I left the Riyuka Estate.
"Did Aizen Riyuka order you to follow me?" I asked, my voice laced with annoyance.
I didn't expect him to resort to this. Is he suspicious of me?
The knight didn't respond.
"Go back and tell him where I was. But let him know—if I catch someone following me again…" I paused and dragged my thumb across my neck.
"...I'll kill whoever it is." His body flinched. He bowed and left without a word.
I'm not planning to cross paths with him, but it seems unavoidable now—I've likely piqued his interest, especially with Anastasius becoming one of the Yashiro Knights.
The chatter grew louder as I reached the central district. Since I've already gathered intel from Arthur, I might as well head toward the mercenaries' den.