thief of fate-Chapter 73: Keep monitoring 2
People flowed through the streets like restless waves. Food stalls exhaled warm aromas, laughter rose in broken bursts, and horses’ hooves struck the stones with a steady rhythm.
Amidst this crowd... walked Irkalos.
He didn’t seem part of the scene, despite his desperate attempts. His steps were measured, cold, lacking the spontaneous rush of humans.
His eyes swept over faces methodically, but inside, he was measuring everything: the slant of shoulders, the tension in fingers, the shift in a laugh’s rhythm, the choking of a word behind a smile.
Why is that man smiling while looking at the other that way?
The thought crossed his mind, heavy and sharp like a small stone beneath his skin.
He slowed his walk, observing a scene: two men exchanging words, one laughing with an open mouth... while his body was tense like a drawn bowstring.
Fear? No... perhaps flattery.
He stared longer, trying to dissect the scene... and suddenly stopped.
"Hey, get out of the way!"
A street vendor pushing a cart full of red apples shouted at him.
Irkalos blinked slowly, took a step back, without uttering a word.
The vendor passed by, muttering faint curses.
Irkalos watched him walk away, then whispered to himself:
"Defensive behavior... covering inner anxiety."
He was gathering puzzle pieces, without a clear knowledge of the final picture.
He continued wandering.
He observed children shouting atop rickety carts, women bargaining with cloth sellers, soldiers exchanging insults in a joking tone...
Everything appeared – at first glance – simple, natural.
But he felt... something else.
All this liveliness... was nothing but a shell.
The feeling gnawed at him, like a cold wind creeping under his skin.
He stopped near a street corner, where an old beggar stood, shaking a metal cup with a trembling hand.
His eyes were empty, and his body leaned as if about to collapse.
A young woman approached, dropped a coin into the cup, and smiled at him.
The old man smiled back... but his eyes remained dead.
A lifeless smile. Gratitude without meaning.
He watched her walk away.
He felt a strange prickling in his chest.
Something like... anger?
"They are acting even to themselves."
He muttered the words without realizing.
A woman passing by glanced at him, thinking he was speaking to her, but he paid her no attention.
He stepped into a side alley.
In this narrow space, where rot mixed with the stench of urine, he felt something strange: a familiar solitude.
He leaned his back against a cracked wall and closed his eyes.
Every smile... every laugh... every word... tainted with lies.
His mind screamed inside him.
And for a moment... he felt as if the whole world was one giant, heavy mask.
He opened his eyes suddenly.
It was there.
That feeling.
As if other eyes... were watching him.
He stared at the alley’s edges, at the abandoned windows.
Nothing.
But the feeling didn’t fade.
It grew heavier, as if the air around him became sticky.
Who?
He clenched his fist tightly.
The sound of light footsteps.
A whisper of cloth brushing against the wall.
A muffled cough.
He turned swiftly...
No one.
"Hallucinations."
He whispered, trying to calm himself.
But he did not believe his own words.
He continued walking, more cautiously.
He tried focusing on the crowds, but every face now looked like a mask, every gaze suspicious.
He entered a small tavern, seeking temporary refuge.
The place was thick with smoke, heavy laughter, and mixed smells.
He sat in a dark corner, observing.
A young waiter approached him:
"What will you drink, sir?"
Irkalos stared at him for a moment, then said in a calm tone:
"Water."
The waiter raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
He moved away, bantering with other customers.
Irkalos placed his hands on the wooden table and closed his eyes again.
They hide behind their noise. Like someone afraid to hear the sound of his own loneliness.
He couldn’t suppress another thought:
And me? Isn’t suppressing my instinct just another mask?
He opened his eyes slowly.
He saw her.
A small girl, barely ten years old, staring at him from afar.
She wasn’t afraid, she didn’t smile, she didn’t turn her face away like the others.
She simply... looked.
A raw, innocent look... filled with something he couldn’t understand.
He faltered.
He glanced around quickly... no one was paying attention.
He turned back to her... but she had vanished.
When he left the tavern, night had drawn its heavy curtains.
And the feeling... that feeling of being watched, had grown.
Two young men passed by, laughing loudly.
A woman hurried past, carrying a basket of greens.
An old man coughed harshly, bending over his cane.
Everything seemed normal.
And yet...
His steps quickened without him noticing.
His heartbeat became louder in his ears.
"Who are you?"
He whispered the words into the wind.
He wasn’t speaking to anyone.
It was a scattered question.
He entered a wide plaza, where a battered fountain stood in the center.
He sat on the fountain’s edge, his breathing slightly troubled.
He glimpsed his reflection in the water.
His face... the strange face... his predatory face.
He touched the surface with his fingertips, and the image wavered.
The sound of footsteps echoed.
He didn’t lift his head but closed his eyes, surrendering to his senses.
Footsteps... stopping behind him.
Charged silence.
Then a soft voice, closer to a whisper:
"Why do you pretend to be one of them... when you are not?"
The words froze him.
He turned slowly.
He saw no one.
"Who are you?!"
He raised his voice this time, angry.
A faint laugh, scattered by the wind, answered him.
He stood up suddenly, his eyes shining with anger and suspicion.
"Show yourself!"
He roared.
No response.
He stood there for a long time, staring into the void.
Then... the tension suddenly eased.
As if whoever was watching him... had left.
Or maybe he was simply too tired of the chase?
He slumped back down, his head between his hands.
What is happening to me?
He didn’t know.
All he knew was that something had changed.
He no longer saw humans the same way.
He no longer saw himself the same way.
And something, something dark and deep, had begun to awaken inside him.
He slowly raised his head, gazing at the faint stars.
And his soul whispered:
Maybe... I wasn’t watching them.
Maybe... I was learning about myself.
After what felt like an eternity, Irkalos rose from his seat at the fountain.
The feeling of danger had lessened but hadn’t disappeared.
It had become deeper, more hidden, like a scorpion crawling under his skin, silent and deadly.
No point staying here.
He thought, casting one last look at the empty plaza.
With long, quick steps, he left the city.
He walked through back alleys, across silent fields, until he reached a barren land, covered in withered grass remnants, surrounded by dark hills.
No lights, no human sounds.
Only the wind... and his own breathing.
He stood in the middle of the wasteland, closed his eyes, and inhaled the air.
Then he said in a low, cutting voice:
"You’ve followed me long enough... come out."
Silence wrapped around him for a moment, as if the earth itself held its breath.
Then, slowly... a man emerged from the shadows.
His long blond hair, his eyes the color of the sea on a clear night, and a strange stillness surrounding him.
Raphael.
He advanced with steady steps, every movement carrying a quiet strength that needed no display.
He said, in a calm voice:
"I didn’t want to disturb you among the people."
He stopped at a not-too-far distance, watching Irkalos like a hunter watching a wounded wolf.
"I saw that you were... learning." Raphael continued, without raising his voice. "And I didn’t want to spoil that."
Irkalos did not answer.
He stood still, his head tilted slightly, as if the words did not concern him... or as if they had never reached him at all.
Raphael asked, in a less formal tone, with a hint of curiosity:
"Why?"
No response.
He didn’t close his eyes, didn’t move.
But inside... he was boiling.
Why?... The echo of the word whispered within him.
He did not know the answer.
Or maybe he did... but he refused to speak it.
Raphael waited.
Without threat, without worry.
And then... something broke inside Irkalos.
Something that had been holding him back all along.
Suddenly... his body lowered, taking on a posture more beast than man, his long claws gleaming under the moonlight.
An inner howl exploded through his veins. He had suppressed his instinct for a long time... but now, he no longer wanted to.
He growled in a low voice, as if the whole world trembled with him.
And he lunged.
Like a dark arrow, he attacked Raphael.
His sharp claws tore through the air.
Raphael didn’t budge.
He simply raised his arm to receive the blow.
Irkalos’s claws struck his chest.
A moment of silence. Then... an explosion.
A muffled boom scattered around them, the ground shaking, dust bursting like a cloud.
Irkalos leapt backward, his eyes glowing with a deadly glint.
As for Raphael... He remained standing.
Not even a scratch marked his skin.
Irkalos stared at him, his breathing quickened.
Impossible...
He attacked again, and again, and hundreds of times in the blink of an eye.
Swift, merciless strikes.
Each one enough to tear through a wall of steel.
And each one... met with silence.
Raphael did not retreat. He did not sway. He did not flinch.
He was like an eternal wall... solid... endless. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚
In the end, they found themselves in a closed path No escape... and no need for it.
They stood facing each other, their breaths clashing.
Raphael slowly lowered his arms and said, in a tone not without sorrow:
"There’s no point."
Irkalos was panting, his limbs trembling, but he did not back down.
His eyes gleamed with a suppressed madness, something wild, primitive, that was tearing him apart from within.
And then...
The air was split by a familiar sound.
Steady footsteps... a light tone of lazy whistling.
From among the shadows... Axel appeared.
With his loose black clothes, and indifferent eyes, as if the whole scene mattered to him no more than a wildflower by the roadside.
He approached until he stood beside Raphael, looked at Irkalos and said with a lazy smile:
"Your little stroll is over, predator."
He raised his hand, as if picking a flower... And suddenly, a black rift formed in the air behind Irkalos.
A gate to the Abyss.
Irkalos gasped, his body trying to resist.
But he was tired, torn inside between anger and confusion.
And without another word... The darkness swallowed him.
Axel stood, dusting off his hands as if finishing a boring task.
He said to Raphael, while yawning:
"You could have ended it faster."
Raphael replied, in a low voice:
"I didn’t want to kill him."
Axel let out a short laugh:
"Kill him? Impossible. Not yet."
The two of them looked at the empty spot where Irkalos had stood moments before.
And silence returned.
A silence filled with sadness... and anticipation.
In another place, where the abyss stretched endlessly... Irkalos opened his eyes.
He was lying among his people.
And between his ribs... a new feeling was forming.
Not anger.
Nor the desire to fight.
But... hunger.
