Chapter Text
Nom De la Ville was a small town. It was hidden away in the countryside, far away from the politics and stress of modern-day France. The town had been around longer than anyone could remember and no real date at any time had ever been recorded for the founding of Nom De la Ville.
The houses were all old, well-kept of course, but still old. The pathways were made of dirt, with small plants daring to try and grow, only to be crushed under the weight of the residents' feet as they traversed to their jobs, and trough the market. And many of the homes lacked the things that truly marked the modern age they lived in. Hardly anyone ever came to visit and yet, even less people dared to leave the village, despite the opportunities that presented themselves in a bigger city, such as Paris. It was almost as if the town was trapped in a small bubble of time, perfectly preserved, as the rest of the world moved on in a slow, steady march…
Now, obviously, this town was not without problems. Most of the people were incredibly small minded and paranoid, mistreating and staying far away from any of those who dared challenge their sense of normalcy. And that fear of the unknown, of anything different, was only heightened by the presence of Arbres Effrayants- the large and incredibly old forest that began on the outskirts of Nom De la Villle.
There were many myths and legends and superstitions surrounding this particular wood. Old sayings of a creature with a humanlike head and torso but a snake-like lower half. They said its head was adored with the horns of something akin to a dragon, that its talons were sharp enough to slash through any knight's armor. The tail it had instead of legs was tipped with poisonous spikes...and the local Mother’s warned their children that anyone who wandered to far in the woods would become a victim of its devilish torments.
This, of course, was complete and utter poppycock, in Idia’s humble opinion. And often, his opinion was factually correct.
Sighing, the man pulled his cloak tighter around himself. The marketplace was loud, too loud. A deafening concoction of animal bleats, the shouts of the merchants, the high-pitched laughter of the local children, and just the sound of the populous going about their days, chatting about whatever mind-numbingly dull topics that everyone seemed to favor. The noise was almost enough to make one’s ears bleed purely from the overwhelming amount of input.
Almost enough, simply because Idia’s ears were not quite bleeding…well, not yet anyway. Although, given the fact that he had to run two errands today and avoid very specific people, who seemed to be almost everywhere at once; it may very well happen, which would not be the worst thing. Perhaps then the Greek wouldn’t have to hear anything or anyone anymore. That would be nice.
Pulling his cloak tighter still -almost as if the fabric could make him invisible and protect him from the scrutiny that the man constantly seemed to be subject to- he continued his trek. The woven basket he held in the crook of his elbow was filled with bits and pieces of metal and screws. Old things, of course, as Idia could not truly afford new, perfect metals, and scraps managed just as well. But the metal bits made the basket rather heavy, and it bounced uncomfortably against his side. It would most likely cause some sort of bruise, but Idia just couldn’t find it within himself to care that much. Besides, stopping to adjust the basket meant standing still in the middle of the crowded streets, then taking the time to actually find a position that wouldn’t give him some sort of bodily harm- it would just take far too long to be justifiable.
And it increased the possibility of running into Azul…and that was certainly not a risk Idia wanted to increase in any manner.
Daring a glance up, Idia let his gaze travel over the stalls. There wasn’t many, in all honesty. A few local farmers selling their produce, or meats from their slaughtered animals or even just the animals themselves, some wool- just all things of that nature. It was all local of course, things from outside the town were sold in the handful of shops that littered the edge of the marketplace. And the manor of objects that those shops held were incredibly expensive. Having goods that could not be sourced locally and having no one else to compete with, they were able to raise prices significantly on truly insignificant and sometimes poorly made goods.
Sometimes, these increased prices did prove to be somewhat of a problem. Yet, Idia needed the medication for Ortho and there was simply no other place here in Nom de La Ville to acquire things such had that. And the medication, in itself, was absolutely nessecary. His brother’s legs had been broken as a chid and, without proper access to medical equipment or any sort of treatment, the boy was left with mangled legs. Luckily, he could still walk, but his gaiety was permanently changed, it had become very wobbly and, although the teenager would never admit it, caused significant pain in the legs. The medicine provided a necessary pain-relief, allowing Ortho to enjoy life to some degree.
To cope with these prices with the money Idia certainly didn’t have, he tended to perform odd jobs around the town. He had a certain…knack for mechanics, so it was a fast and simple way to make some money. The Greek would fix people’s broken clocks, or perhaps even water mills if he was truly desperate for things. On occasion, he would fashion small animals that, thanks to a mess of gears, moved on their own. Those often managed to get him quite a fair amount of medication or other necessities.
Turning his gaze back to the road in front of him, Idia let out a strangled gasp of panic and desperately tried to slow his pace down. This effort, however valiant, was completely and utterly useless, almost pathetic in any attempt at how futile it was, as the blue-haired man crashed directly into the local baker. The impact sent Idia sprawling to the hard ground below, hitting his head directly on the ground and his basket was knocked from his arm as a result. The spare screws and metals seemed to stay in fairly well, which was quite lucky, because if they had fallen out here, there would have been little to no hope of finding them again…
Groaning slightly, the Greek pushed himself up into a sitting position, clutching the back of his head. Great, wonderfully, just downright lovely…of course he had to deal with this today. The man could already feel the pastime slowing down, inevitably gawking at the klutz of a freak currently sitting on the dusty ground. They would be snickering and making snide comments, weathering in his already abysmal reputation being tarnished even more than he though possible. Oh, great Seven, why was he even alive anymore? His life may as well be over at this point an-
“Oh my- Idia, are you alright?”
The British-accented voice startled Idia slightly, yet it quite effectively drew the man from his thoughts. Eyes wide with a slight panic, the man quickly looked up. Trey - the baker of the town – was staring down at him with slight concern, his dark yellow eyes were filled with a sort of pity that always made Idia’s stomach lurch. It was the type of look that a hunter gave a corned piece of prey that was only prolonging its death by trashing and trying to escape.
“Uhm…T-Trey…I-…” his voice faltered as he diverted his eyes again. People like Trey always terrified Idia more than others usually did. Other people tended to wear their hearts on their sleeves, metaphorically speaking. Their facial expressions often gave away their emotions, or, at least, their actions did. But people like Trey? One could never tell what they were thinking or feeling or plotting. The baker was someone who Idia had little to no desire to every interact with. Forcing himself to look up again, Idia took a breath, trying to calm his growing nerves and forced himself to stop rubbing the back of his head, “I’m fine…’m fine…”
Dear seven, that didn’t even sound believable to his own ears. And clearly, Trey didn’t either. His eyebrows furrowed and his concerned smile seemed to shrink. The green haired man seemed to lean down slightly, stretching out his arm and offering a hand. “Are you sure? You seemed to hit your head pretty hard on the ground there. That couldn’t have been pleasant. If you want, you could always come by the bakery and just…sit down and rest for a bit. Perhaps I could get you some bread as well? Free of charge of course.”
“No, no, no…it’s fine. I’m fine, Trey, r-really…” Idia mumbled, pushing himself up off the ground, peephole ignoring Trey’s hand. He certainly had no need for the help, and even if he had needed it, there would have been no way the Greek would have accepted the offer. He knew that the town saw him as the weak, socially stunted freak that lived at the edge of the woods…there was no reason to give more credit to their view.
Sighing, the Brit straightened up and returned his hand to the side. “Alright…Alright…” Trey sighed, clearly wanting to push the subject more but knowing it would have been a waste of time and effort. “I ought to be going then. I left Deuce in charge while I was gone, he’s a sweet kid…but I do fear for the safety of my shop if I leave him alone for too long.” The man chuckled, clearly attempting to lighten the mood with a poor excuse for humor.
“Uh-huh…you-…you should probably get to that,” Idia responded, leaning down to pick up his fallen basket off the floor. As he straightened back up, he watched for a moment as the green-haired man slowly made his way into the crowd and disappeared from view. As soon as Trey was gone from his vision, the Greek let out a small breath of relief. Thank the Seven that was over…
Sterling himself and brushing some of the dirt off his vest, he began his trek again, his long blue hair trailing behind him. Simply put, the mess of blue locks was a nuisance, but the man had never found the time or energy to cut it. And normally, he would just tie it up in a half-hearted attempt at a bun – anything to just keep it out of his eyes, really – but today he had been in far too much of a rush to even think about it, in fact, his hair had only crossed his mind after he had already left the house for the day…when it had gotten caught in one of the old fence posts he had the misfortune of walking past…
Luckily though, Idia didn’t have much further to walk. Pomefiore - the local apothecary and the only place that carried Ortho’s medication – was very close to where he had fallen. It was a fancy place, far to fancy for this little town, with its cold, cream-colored walls and the stain-glass it sported in the top window, it looked like a place a King may lounge…certainly not a place for commoners to buy remedies for their ailments
Pushing the door open, the tiny bell jingling a small, shrill tune, the man stepped inside. The air was thick with the smell of something sweet – flowers, perhaps? Or maybe apples? – almost too thick, actually. It almost made him gag. Idia was in no way opposed to a sweet smell…but Pomefiore just overdid it to the extreme. It wasn’t even natural this point, it smelled so fake.
Scrunching his nose slightly, the Greek made his way towards the counter, where the owner, a man named Rook Hunt, was watching him intently. Rook had a way if doing that…of staring at people long enough to unnerve them, but not long enough that they would become genuinely concerned. He knew everything about everyone, but it was unclear how, as most people seemed to be unnerved by his demeanor to genuinely share any facts of value with him…
“Ah, bonjour, roi de chambre!” The man exclaimed as Idia neared the counter, his mouth breaking out into a wide grin. “Your hair is looking rather striking today, no? It is not often that moi gets to see its full, natural beauty! What may I get for you today, hmm? Just the traitement habituel?”
Idia just nodded in response, eyes drifting away from Rook as the blond quickly disappeared into the back of the shop. He leaned against the counter slightly, hand going up to rub his head as the bell chirped again, but the Greek paid no heed to it. His head still hurt, and then man was sure there would be some welt on the back of his head by tomorrow morning. Perhaps he should get a bit of medicine for himself as well? No, he only had enough money for this one bottle. It was somewhat a miracle that he had managed to even scrape together enough for this…but somehow, he did.
“Here it is, roi de chambre!” Rook exclaimed as he practically materialized behind the counter again, placing the small, clear vial onto the counter.
“Th-thanks…” Idia mumbled, reaching into his basket, his hand fishing around for his money bag. He paused for a second, frown deepening as he felt nothing but the cold metals. Grabbing the basket off the counter, he looked inside, panic starting to rise in his chest. No, nonononononono- where was the money bag? He had put it right in here, Ortho had watched him do it and the man had double checked take it was there twice before he left! There was no way the bag could’ve been anywhere else-…unless…
The fall.
Idia felt his breath catch in his throat. He was such an idiot! He had never thought to check that everything was still in there after he had run into Trey! Now, Ortho wouldn’t be able to get his medication and would be in unbearable pain all because the older brother he looked up to so much was an incompetent, idiotic fool!
“Is everything alright?” Rook asked, raising his eyebrow slightly as he studied Idia. “You seem like you are rather…peiné…are you, perhaps, missing the payment?”
“I-…” Idia looked up, hand still fishing around in the basket, as if hoping he had somehow missed something. He wanted to offer something else, to perhaps fix something of Rook’s, but he knew it would be futile. It was clear nothing was broken here and even if something was broken, and if Idia was able to fix it, it would take time. And he couldn’t collect the medication until his end of the bargain was kept. “I-“
“Oh, my dear friend is never missing his payment,” a smooth, Italian-accented voice said, effectively cutting the man off. “Here,” a few coins were slid across the table. “I believe that is enough, no? Of course, I have more if nessecary!”
Idia went completely and utterly still, effectively tuning out their continued conversation. Why was he here? Was the universe trying to punish him for something? Why else would this day have gone like this? First the fall and having to talk to Trey and then losing the money and now him! Why oh why did the Seven hate him so much?! Had he done something?! Or perhaps his entire existence was just too much of a blemish on the perfect society that had been crafted here?
“Here you go, Idia,” he hummed as Rook disappeared too the back of the shop again, moving the vial and placing it in Idia’s hand. His fingers lingered for just a fraction of a second too long, hinting at something more than just a simple desire to help someone in need. A twisted way of asserting control over an asset, though to everyone else, it would look like a benefactor helping a poor, unfortunate soul.
Trying to swallow the lump in his throat, Idia finally looked up, some of his hair falling in his face as he met the eyes of the man who had once been a close friend, but has since made his personal life a living hell for the past ten years and turned into a personal torment…
Azul Ashengrotto.