Chapter 6. Fight Or Flight
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El stepped out of the door. And just like any other day when he ventured outside, he instinctively glanced toward the side where the steel barbed wire fence stood silently, its surface adorned with patches of rust that cast a haunting shadow over the area. The ambiance was harrowing for anyone who dared to look.
Beyond the fence, the alleyway presented a grim and distant sight. Puddles of stagnant water dotted the path, and on particularly fine days, El would spot rats scurrying about—large yet bony, with matted, dirty fur. Their squeaks echoed in the still air.
Sunlight rarely reached this part of the alley, making it feel even more foreboding than it already was. After taking a moment to absorb the unsettling view, El turned away.
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Before El could fully step outside the alley, he heard a commotion rising from the street.
'What happened?' he wondered to himself, frowning. He had been cooped up in the house for three days, reading books and writing in his notebook, which had turned into a sort of diary by that point, leaving him unaware of the events unfolding in the city.
He quickened his pace; the clamor swelled even louder, a cacophony that surged toward his ears. Finally, he emerged onto the street, where rows of people moved in unison, all heading in the same direction.
What struck El as particularly peculiar was the sea of black button-down shirts and long-sleeved garments paired with dark trousers. It was as if an unspoken agreement had swept through the crowd, compelling them to don this somber attire, creating a striking tableau of shared purpose and muted sorrow.
A murmur of voices rose above the oppressive silence. El felt a peculiar mix of fortune and misfortune—his 'inscrutable senses' seemed heightened, reminiscent of the time he spent with 'that man.'
The somber atmosphere enveloped him like an unseen, heavy shroud. He could detect the simmering anger beneath the surface of the crowd, a collective indignation about something he could not quite grasp.
What was the situation, exactly? He didn't know. Yet, he understood that the weight of their shared emotions was potent enough to leave him rather breathless.
Approaching one of the middle-aged men who walked with knitted eyebrows, El politely tugged his hand and asked, "Excuse me, sir, can you tell me what is happening? Where are people heading to?"
Carefully inspecting El, uncle solemnly replied, "Go back to your home, little boy! This isn't for a kid like you."
Swiftly contemplating the best course of action, El raised his question again. His eyes pleaded, eager for more information. "Please, sir, I want to know. My parents didn't tell me anything…"
"No… go back to your home! Listen to your parents, kid…"
The uncle was firm, refusing to be swayed by the pitiful boy with his pretty emerald eyes that somehow still gleamed in the daylight, reminding him of his own daughter and son at home.
"Please, sir, please!" El begged, this time clasping his palms together.
"No…" the uncle replied curtly.
"Alright then…" El's pitiable expression swiftly melted away, replaced by a blank, unreadable mask. His gaze dropped; the faintest shadow of discontent flickering across his face.
Without another word, he turned on his heel, leaving the uncle staring after him, bewildered. He, who had never once witnessed such a swift and deliberate shift in demeanor, stood frozen-rooted to the spot.
El, however, moved on quietly, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on a young woman—a striking figure with a kind, approachable air. Without hesitation, he made his way toward her.
"Excuse me, big sis?" El said, tapping the woman's shoulder respectfully.
"Yes?" she replied, turning to face him, his head barely reaching her shoulder.
"Can you tell me what is actually happening? Where is everyone walking to?"
The woman's expression fell. Her shoulders drooped slightly upon hearing the question. "It was..." She murmured. After a pause, he softly added. "Do you know that famous restaurant called Merriment, Little Brother?"
El's heart raced as he replied, "Ah, what happened to them?"
It felt as though a jolt of electricity surged from the top of his head to the rest of his body. Merriment Restaurant—of course, he knew that place.
It was the very same eatery where he had dined in this city for the first time with that mystery uncle, and where he had met kids from the underside. Today, he even wanted to revisit that restaurant.
The woman lowered her head, eyes brimming with tears, while she kept walking to follow the throngs of people. "They… all of them who work there will be executed today…"
"What???" El exclaimed, his voice rising in volume, causing the woman to flinch in surprise at his outburst. A few pedestrians around them turned their eyes toward him, startled by his cry of shock.
In that instant, El's heart sank.
"So, you know that place too? I guess that restaurant will always be the most famous in this city after all, heh heh…" the woman dejectedly said.
She wanted to chuckle woefully at the end, but ended up with an awkward, ugly smile. However, even that smile didn't last long; she couldn't bring herself to lift the edges of her lips, as the terrible tragedy of the day was too much for her.
"W-what? What is actually happening? You're joking, right? Hahahaha, yes, you're joking. Maybe I heard it wrong earlier…" El let out a mirthless laugh, still unable to believe what he had heard from the woman. In fact, it felt more like he was refusing to accept what she had said.
"Kid, what did I tell you earlier? Go back home!!!"
It was the uncle whom El had asked first about the situation.
He had followed El here and placed a hand on his shoulder. Though his words were harsh, the hand on El's shoulder was gentle, nudging him away from the crowd and hoping he would go back toward his "supposed parents."
"No, sir. I'm sorry. I want to know more," El said, his voice steady yet resolute. He turned to face both the uncle and the young woman, his emerald eyes locking onto theirs with an intensity that was both fierce and unyielding.
The uncle began to waver, and the woman pushed the final nail into the coffin of his resolve. "It'll be known throughout the entire city tomorrow anyway, sir. Might as well tell him. The kid seems to know the restaurant too…"
Closing his eyes and contemplating for a few seconds, the uncle eventually stared at El, whose gaze remained stubborn.
"The restaurant was visited by important guests of the mayor three days ago. I heard they offended one of them, someone of noble lineage. It's still not confirmed, just vague words of mouth. But today is the day they are to be executed in the front yard of the mayor's office…"
The young woman interjected from the side. "But I've also heard different versions. They said it was because the mayor purposely investigated the owner's background and discovered his lineage," she hesitated before continuing. "They mentioned that he comes from the underside. His parents, they said. I'm not too sure myself."
"Nonsense…" the uncle retorted, struggling to contain his frustration and anger as he allowed the young woman to finish. "Everyone's registered from their birth in this city. There's no way old Tigo could have built the restaurant if he were from the underside. You know what? I'm sure it was those pompous noble bast—" He halted his words upon noticing El, who remained in place, listening attentively.
"I've heard another version, though," a voice chimed in from behind El. Turning around, he met the eyes of a petite young woman.
She wore a grayish-blue formal uniform adorned with a golden badge on her upper arm; a shield motif on her chest. A short metal rod hung at her waist. A hat and gloves completed her attire.
She resumed, "I heard it's because the owner was proven to be connected with a thief who stole something from the mayor's office. It was important enough that even a Vanguard like me was dispatched here to investigate it."
"Ah, you are. I apologize, ma'am. I didn't mean to speak so rashly about the nobility," the uncle's voice trembling. His body bent in an awkward bow; trepidation was evident in the slight quiver of his movements.
The young woman beside him also stepped back in fright, equally intimidated.
"Relax, uncle, sister," the young Vanguard woman said, a reassuring smile softening her features. "I'm not like the nobles from the capital. I was born as a commoner here in Mirthwater, just like you." Her words were calm, her tone deliberately comforting as she tried to dispel their apprehension.
"Oh, I see. That's good then," the uncle gulped down, hesitating and still not fully believing her.
"Wait, where is the boy?" the young woman asked, realizing El was no longer with them.
"I saw him going that way. It's fine. It's better if the kid goes back to his parents," the Vanguard woman stated, pointing behind her in the direction where El was currently running back to the alley from which he had emerged earlier.
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