A lone traveler steps off a recently arrived train onto the deserted platform of Clairforet, the town slumbering peacefully beneath the moon's gentle light. His worn travel bag hangs precariously over one shoulder, its straps creaking softly as he moves, while his tattered trench coat drapes around him like a dark cloak, the tip of a sword's sheath emerging from beneath its frayed edges.
As the stranger navigates the moonlit streets of Clairforet, the whispers of the summer breeze rustle softly through the leaves and carry the distant chirping of crickets. The sounds blend together in a soothing melody that mutes his footsteps as he moves silently through the sleeping town.
While the morning's golden light creeps over a vast forest, Clairforet slowly wakes from its slumber, nestled within its embrace. The stone homes and narrow paved streets gradually release their chill, warmed by the sun's gentle rays that dance across the town's rooftops.
At the heart of Clairforet lies its central passenger train station, a pivotal landmark that separates the town's residential area on the east from expansive warehouses on the west. The railway itself acts as both a divider and a unifying artery, linking Clairforet with distant locales while defining the town's layout.
A short stroll from the station leads to the main town square, where clusters of closed shops and restaurants line the perimeter, their empty facades lending a quiet solitude to the scene, an unexpected stillness in a town that should be bustling with life. Only one restaurant stands defiantly open, its outdoor seating barely filled with customers savoring the morning's tranquility.
Dominating the square is the town hall, perched on an elevated plot of land that gives the building an air of grandeur. A set of steps ascend gracefully from the main square toward this dignified structure. The two-story building, adorned with intricate carvings and ornate details, stands as a testament to the town's storied past. Atop, a clock tower rises with regal grace, its hands moving steadily over the day's hours, casting long shadows in the rising sun.
In the serene embrace of Clairforet's main square, Mayor Elizabeth Granger finds herself seated in the tranquility of the town's only open restaurant at dawn. Seated alone at an outdoor table, she cradles her cup of steaming coffee, its rich aroma mingling with the crisp morning air. The newspaper, freshly acquired from the train station, is firmly held in her left hand as she calmly reads through its pages.
Dressed in attire reminiscent of the military, Elizabeth's ensemble is both elegant and practical: a crisply ironed blouse paired with tailored pants, enveloped by a sleek, slim coat. The gentle breeze rustles her well-kept neck-long blond hair as the hot coffee warms her ruddy face, its steamy mist dancing in front of her. Elizabeth's gaze rises from the newspaper's pages, and she peers out at the town square with her bright, light-blue eyes, taking in the slow stirrings of the day. Around her, the rhythm of Clairforet is slowly beginning its daily symphony - residents moving with purposeful intent as they prepare for the day ahead. The distant rare hum of work instruments reaches her ears, a comforting and almost melodic backdrop to which she has grown accustomed over the years.
As Elizabeth takes one last sip of her coffee, savoring its rich warmth on a cool morning breeze, a familiar figure catches her attention. An old man, with his black hair streaked with hints of grey, his warm brown eyes clouded by age, and his pale complexion illuminated by the gentle morning light, approaches her with deliberate slowness, his worn cane grasped firmly in his hand. His attire, though well-maintained, betrays its original colors, now muted by time and faded to a faint, grey sheen. A soft sigh escapes Elizabeth's lips as she recognizes the familiar figure of old man Emil. This was not the first time his sudden appearance had disrupted her peaceful breakfast, and she senses that it would not be the last.
"Good morrow, Miss Granger," Emil greets her with his customary polite tone, his voice carrying the weight of both concern and hope. "Have you received any word on Felix's whereabouts?"
Elizabeth's response is measured; her tone tinged with a hint of displeasure. "No… Officer Bleyer hasn't shared any new updates on your grandson yet."
"Is there anything else you can do?" Emil presses, his voice laced with a sense of urgency. "My dear Agnes will be worried sick if she learns that her precious kid has been missing for so long. I cannot send her and Paul a letter with this news—not when they are so far from home." His tone takes on a hint of desperation. "I have been asking the kids around and none of them have seen Felix for more than 4 days. Something about this doesn't sit right with me."
Olga, elegantly dressed in her Victorian-style waitress dress, glides over to collect the empty plates from the mayor's table. As she bends down, her dark-brown eyes shoot a stern look at Emil.
"This is the fifth day you're bothering the mayor," Olga says, her voice firm but controlled. "What's got you so worked up about the kid? Clairforet is a peaceful town, with no strangers in sight. The only issue we have are those rascally delinquents roaming around. And I heard Felix is one of their big shots. It's not unusual for them to vanish for days, or even weeks. I bet he's up to no good somewhere."
Emil's face tightens with frustration as he defends his grandson. "My grandson has come home every night at 9, without fail! Not once did he miss curfew. Those rumors about my grandson are nothing but nonsense."
Olga's sigh is tinged with surprise and amusement as she gazes at Emil's steadfast expression. Her tone is laced with a hint of sarcasm as she speaks, her words dripping with skepticism. "Oh, don't be so gullible, Emil! Even the nicest kids have secrets hidden beneath their smiles."
Emil's face remains unyielding, his hand clenching the cane with all its might, his knuckles white with tension. "My grandson would never!" Olga continues, her voice laced with a hint of warning. "Please. There's not enough oversight in this town anyway. Once a kid turns delinquent, they're bound to get into trouble. My boy Wil, for instance—"
Emil's face reddens as he cuts Olga off mid-sentence, his eyes flashing with indignation. "Don't even compare my grandson to your... failure of a child!" He spits out the words, his voice rising in a crescendo of irritation. Olga's eyes flash with anger, her voice escalating like a pot about to boil over, the air thickening with tension. "Huh?! Say it again, old man?"
Just as things were about to escalate, Elizabeth calmly finishes her coffee, sets the newspaper aside, and rises from her seat. Her movements are as smooth as silk as she inserts herself between Olga and Emil. "That's quite enough," she says firmly. "Olga, thank you for the breakfast. Please go easy on Emil."
Olga picks up the dishes and walks out in irritation. Elizabeth turns to face Emil; her eyes filled with compassion. "I should have some free time today. I'll see what I can do to help with the search."
Without waiting for Emil's response, the mayor strides across the main town square towards the town hall, her footsteps echoing through the morning air. Emil's words full of gratefulness follow her off - " Thank you kindly, Miss Granger. Truly."
Elizabeth enters the grand lobby of the town hall, which stretches two stories tall and boasts a gallery on the second floor that overlooks the space below. The interior exudes elegance, adorned with ornate furniture and lamps that cast a warm glow. A majestic chandelier hangs suspended above her, its crystals refracting the light in a kaleidoscope of colors. On the other side of the lobby, a teenage girl sits behind the reception desk, her blonde hair and porcelain skin illuminated by the soft lighting as she works intently. Her bright blue eyes glance up to see who has arrived. Recognizing the mayor, she rises gracefully and greets her with a voice filled with affection. "Good morning, Mother."
Elizabeth's expression softens for a moment upon seeing her daughter Anne. "Good morning… Do I have any openings in my schedule today?" Anne consults the calendar on the desk, her fingers moving swiftly over it. "You have almost two hours available right before lunch."
"Reserve that time. I will help search for Emil's grandson," Elizabeth replies firmly while heading towards her office, which lies behind the reception desk. Anne nods, writing down the appointment on the calendar.
"Did Hugo leave any update?" The mayor inquires as she got closer to the reception desk. Anne pauses; her expression thoughtful. "I haven't received anything yet."
Moments later, a slight concern reflects in Anne's eyes. "Did Emil bother you again today?" She asks, frowning slightly. "I don't understand why he is so concerned about Felix. He's probably slacking off with other delinquents somewhere."
Elizabeth's tone remains steady, but a hint of frustration flickers in her eyes. "Yea. That is the general consensus. I'll check around. At least then Emil won't have to worry his daughter when writing to her."
Anne's crosses her arms and looks at Elizabeth with an air of knowing. "You just want him to stop bothering you in the mornings, right?" Elizabeth stops at the door to her office, her expression faltering for a moment before recovering. "Ahem... That too. You know I prefer my mornings to be nice and quiet." With that, she turns the doorknob, stepping into the solitude of her office space.
After completing her scheduled morning activities, Elizabeth heads out into town to begin her search for Felix. Upon exiting the grand doors of the town hall, she is immediately drawn to a lively gathering in the main square. A crowd of children has formed around a stranger who seems to captivate them effortlessly, their laughter and chatter filling the air. With curiosity piqued, Elizabeth approaches the scene, her steps light and unhurried as she joins the small crowd encircling the entertainer.
At the center stands a young man, his average height and thin complexion momentarily forgotten in the face of his infectious enthusiasm. His rugged clothing and disheveled brown hair fit perfectly with the tales he weaves. A black crown-like mark circles his head, visible through his hair as if defying the natural order, adding an air of mystique to his performance.
As Elizabeth watches, mesmerized by the stranger's charisma, she notices the gleam in his bright silver eyes - an otherworldly intensity that adds a touch of magic and adventure to every word. His voice is like honey, smooth and rich, drawing her in with its warmth and sincerity. The children around him seem entranced, their faces aglow with wonder and excitement, as if they've stumbled into a world of pure fantasy. "Ah… A Storyteller," Elizabeth thinks to herself, her thoughts carried away by the stranger's enchanting words as she surrenders to the whimsical world he weaves around her.
The Storyteller finishes his latest tale to a chorus of applause from the children. They urge him on, demanding another story. He leans forward slightly, appearing almost breathless from recounting such an epic tale, but his demeanor brightens as a daring smile crosses his face.
"Alright then," the Storyteller says, his voice upbeat. "Have any of you heard the Legend of the Greatest Huntsman?" The children's faces light up in unison, their voices chiming in perfect harmony: "Yes!" The Storyteller's grin grows wider. "Would you like to hear it once more?" The kids' eager cries are all the answer he needs, and with a flourish, he begins his tale, his words painting vivid pictures in the minds of his entranced audience.
"There once lived the Greatest Huntsman, renowned for his might and beauty. His eyes shimmered with an ethereal silver glow."
One curious child speaks up, "Like yours?" The Storyteller smiles, his gaze twinkling. "Indeed, just like mine," he replies kindly, while gracefully moving across the makeshift stage, vividly bringing the story to life for both children and adults.
"The Huntsman was cherished by all who knew him. He journeyed far across the land of Remnant, bringing light to a world ensnared in darkness. During this bleak age, formidable and terrifying Grimm cast an oppressive shadow over the land. The Huntsman's radiance pierced through this gloom with such brilliance that no malevolence could withstand his presence.
On one of his journeys, the Huntsman encountered a Maiden, young and fearful, who hid herself in the tower crafted by her father, the Lord of the realm. From behind closed windows, she conversed with him, enchanted by tales of distant lands and heroic deeds. Though eager to explore these realms herself, her dread of the Grimm proved too overwhelming. Touched by her timidity and gentle spirit, the Huntsman vowed to vanquish all Grimm and reveal the world's splendor.
Thus began his quest, a pursuit for the very heart of Grimm darkness. Seeking guidance, he consulted the venerable Wizard King. The sage imparted grim counsel: To rid the world of Grimm, the Huntsman must vanquish the immortal Grimm Queen—a feat that had claimed the lives of many valiant heroes before him. Despair was etched upon the King's visage.
Undeterred, the Huntsman set forth with unwavering resolve. His heart ablaze with undying hope, he journeyed toward the formidable castle of the Grimm Queen. Along his path, he overcame countless perils and battled against fearsome adversaries until he finally arrived at his destination.
The Grimm Queen herself praised the Huntsman's extraordinary bravery and offered him a coveted place in her court. Unyielding, the Huntsman brandished his sword instead—determined to sacrifice everything for the Maiden who had inspired this quest.
The battle raged on, lasting hours as the Huntsman repeatedly bested the Grimm Queen. Yet each time she fell, she rose again from the dead, rendering their encounters seemingly futile. Exhaustion began to take its toll on the Huntsman. His strength waned until her blade finally struck true, piercing his heart.
On the brink of death, the Huntsman's spirit remained undaunted. His final breaths were filled with determination to honor his vow. As his soul drifted toward the afterlife, he was graced with a visitation by the brother gods of Remnant. Struck by his unwavering courage and indomitable will, they bestowed upon him the power to fulfill his vow.
Revived from death, the Huntsman rose anew to confront darkness once more. With newfound might, he unleashed an overwhelming radiance that illuminated the world. The Grimm Queen met her end, and with her demise, all creatures of shadow dissolved into oblivion, heralding a new era of radiant dawn.
The people of Remnant erupted in joyous celebration. Laughter and dance filled the air as they embraced their reclaimed world—a realm free from fear and brimming with promise.
Returning to fulfill his pledge, the Huntsman's love for the Maiden flourished anew. United by vows of eternal devotion, they embarked on a journey together, spreading light and happiness wherever they roamed."
As the Storyteller bows, the entire audience bursts into applause, captivated by his skillful narration. Elizabeth finds herself swept up in the excitement, thoroughly enjoying every moment of the spectacle. She walks up to the Storyteller, offering heartfelt praise for his enchanting retelling of the tale.
"What a truly enchanting performance!" Elizabeth exclaims, her eyes sparkling with delight. "It's been far too long since a Storyteller graced our town with their presence. We're truly fortunate to have you here. I'm Elizabeth Granger, Mayor of this humble town." She extends a welcoming hand to the stranger.
The Storyteller grasps her hand gently, his face lighting up with a warm smile. "Ah, thank you, Miss Granger! My name is Lleuad Sulienson, and I'm humbled by your kind words. The radiant smiles on the faces of these little ones are more than enough reward for me."
Elziabeth turns towards the children, her eyes scanning the crowd with a hint of authority. "Have you seen Felix Holzmann around?" she inquires them, her tone gentle yet firm.
The older kids begin murmuring among themselves, their faces lighting up with excitement. Most shake their heads, but one boy speaks up. "I heard that Babaroga took him because he was naughty," he says, his voice filled with a mixture of fascination and unease.
Elizabeth's eyes narrow as she turns her attention to the boy who spoke up. She reaches out and gently pulls him closer, her tone firm but controlled. "Have you seen the delinquents today?" The mayor asks, her eyes locked onto the boy's.
The boy shakes his head and points at his friend. Elizabeth's gaze shifts to that boy and gives him a stern look, which makes him quickly spill everything he knows. "I saw them walking down Woodsmith street past the dry fountain today."
The mayor releases the first boy, her eyes scanning the crowd once more. "Alright, everyone!" Elizabeth says with gentle authority. "Lunchtime is approaching soon. You should get back to your caretakers."
As the crowd thins out, Elizabeth glances back at Lleuad, who remains nearby, a warm smile on his face. "What brought you to Clairforet?" She asks with a friendly tone that carries a hint of concern.
Lleuad answers with the same warm smile, seemingly unfazed by the chill in the mayor's tone. "I'm here to entertain the town." Elizabeth's brows lift slightly as her questions grow more direct. "When did you arrive and how long do you plan on staying?" she presses.
Lleuad's gaze drifts upward, as if lost in thought. "I arrived just past midnight last night." His eyes meet hers, filled with a hint of compassion. "And, to be honest, I'm not sure how long I will stay. The audience here seems more receptive than in other places... considering the noticeable lack of adults around." His tone takes on a subtle note of concern.
Elizabeth drops her guarded demeanor, sensing no hostility from the Storyteller. "It's fine. This is the fallow year. Most adults are currently serving in Vale's military." Lleuad's eyes widen slightly at this revelation. "In the military?" Elizabeth nods. "This is standard practice in our country. Have you never heard about it?" Her gaze lingers on him with a hint of intrigue.
Lleuad gives an apologetic nod, rubbing the back of his neck. "I actually haven't stayed in Vale for too long." Elizabeth's expression turns thoughtful. "I would love to give you more details... but it's a bit of a long story and I'm currently in a hurry..." She thinks for a moment, then a smile spreads across her face. "Tell you what – I'll treat you to lunch later today, and we can talk more. Does that sound good?" Lleuad, delighted by the offer, humbly responds. "Yes, it does. I will be patiently waiting."
With a quick nod, Elizabeth turns from Lleuad, her thoughts already racing ahead to the search for the delinquents.
The mayor meanders through the north-eastern quarter of Clairforet, her gentle footsteps resonating off the imposing facades that line the deserted streets. This tranquil neighborhood, with its tree-canopied avenues and ornate townhouses, holds a peculiar allure for the towns' mischievous youth, despite being one of the most esteemed areas in Clairforet. The grand houses, with their intricate stonework and shuttered windows, seem to be holding their collective breath as they await the return of their absent residents, who have departed for a season.
As she walks, Elizabeth's gaze wanders over the scene before her, taking in the subtle signs of life that linger despite the empty streets. The scent of grass wafts through the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of blooming flowers, while the distant chirping of birds provides a soothing accompaniment to her thoughts.
During her walk through the neighborhood, the mayor notices an elderly woman tending a porch, dressed in simple, graceful garments, her long white hair swept into a tidy bun. She instantly recognizes her as Ms. Huter - one of the few remaining residents from this area. Despite her advanced age, Ms. Huter diligently sweeps away leaves and dust with a broom, her movements deliberate yet graceful. Elizabeth's face brightens into a warm smile as she approaches her.
"Good morning, Ms. Huter," the mayor says warmly. The elderly woman slowly turns around, her dark green eyes squinting slightly in the sunlight as she takes a moment to recognize the mayor standing before her. A hint of surprise gives way to warmth as she recognizes Elizabeth.
"Ahh… Eli…" she responds in kind; her voice tinged with nostalgia. "It's rare to see you roaming these parts. How's the town holding up?"
"Very well," Elizabeth replies with a smile. "I see you're keeping your daughter's home in excellent condition."
"Just keeping myself occupied, as always," Ms. Huter says with a wistful smile, her gaze lingering on the welcoming house.
As she refocuses on her quest, Elizabeth's expression shifts from cordial warmth to a more determined seriousness, her eyes scanning the deserted streets as she asks, "Has there been any recent activity or youthful presence around this area that I should be aware of?"
Ms. Huter chuckles softly, shaking her head. "Heh, so the boys got themselves into trouble again." Her eyes narrow slightly as she thinks. "Nobody's passed by here recently. But I'd wager they're hanging out inside late Helga's place. I caught some noises coming from there. Seems they've found a way inside. I sent a letter to the office on the matter a few days ago. Did you manage to get to it? "
"I haven't yet," Elizabeth admits, her tone thoughtful. "I'll inform Hugo about it right away. He should be able to secure the house properly." She pauses for a moment, grateful for the information. "Thank you for the tip. I really must be on my way." Ms. Huter continues reminiscing about late Helga, seemingly unaware of Elizabeth's departure.
As Elizabeth takes a shortcut through a shadowy alleyway en route to Helga's home, she notices a boy darting across the dimly lit path in a rush. Her curiosity piqued; she follows him afar off. Just as she suspected, the boy leads her directly to Helga's house and vanishes inside through the front door.
While approaching the property, Elizabeth hears muffled voices drifting from within. She draws closer, edging toward cover, her ears tuned to the conversation unfolding inside. Hiding discreetly by the window, she catches glimpses of three children huddled in the living room. One of them, a boy perched atop a table, exudes an air of authority, his features unmistakable - it's Edmund, the notorious troublemaker of town. As Elizabeth watches, Edmund addresses the fourth and newest arrival who looks worn out, his shoulders slumped.
Edmund's tone is laced with anticipation as he asks, "Yo, Bruno, got anythin'?" Bruno's response is sluggish, his voice weary. "No... it's like he vanished into thin air. Same thing happened to the other three." The room falls silent.
One of the kids seated on the couch looks up at Edmund, his voice trembling. "What do we do now?" Elizabeth's expression turns grave as she takes in the scene before her. She emerges from the shadows; her eyes fixed on the group and her voice firm but calm. "First, you should come with me."
Edmund's eyes flicker with alarm, and he shoots a warning glance at his friends. " Yikes! It's the mayor! Everyone scram!"