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Side Story 1. Last Day in Oblon
🕑 Added 2025-08-29 19:07:59 +0000 UTCI let out a sigh of relief as I finally reached the main door of the estate.
Today, I am finally leaving this accursed place. A single bag in hand, I slowly crossed the marble hallway. After a lengthy and excruciating exit interview, I had finally handed my keys to the head maid and graciously received the pension she had fought so hard to withhold from me.
Not that I truly needed it after my sister’s ‘generous’ bribe, but 15 years of accumulated service would normally afford one enough to start a small business or buy a farm.
It wasn't an amount to be scoffed at.
As to why it had taken me almost a month since receiving my sister's "gift" to leave the Everest household… Well, it can be boiled down to bureaucracy. Had I left any time earlier, I could have been prosecuted for breach of contract. The madam probably would have at least tried to dismiss the matter, but Marquess Everest’s attitude toward me had not warmed up after my house arrest. It’s a miracle I hadn't been disposed of in some way.
I guess I can thank their gods-forsaken cult for at least valuing the lives of individuals more than it valued punishing them.
I quietly walked down the stairs of the main hall and headed for the exit.
“Jace, wait!” I heard a high-pitched voice call my name.
I turned around in time to see my youngest nephew run towards me.
“Young master Dalton.” I said as I politely curtsied.
Something I was now expected to do as a landed gentry… How awkward. In another life, I might have greeted him more warmly, but in this one, he was my superior in every way.
“What seems to be the matter?” I asked as I glanced around the room quickly.
Surprisingly, no one else was here with him. After the 'incident' that befell Silika, all children had been kept on much closer watch than before. Perhaps he had somehow sneaked away from the other servants?
Either way, it wouldn’t be good for either of us to be seen talking to each other, but under these circumstances, I could afford a few precious seconds with a nephew who knew nothing of his aunt.
“Here.” He said as he extended a small closed fist. “It’s for her.”
Her? He couldn't mean…
He opened his hand and let a small object fall into my palm before running along as fast as he had appeared.
How did he…?
I shook my head.
That's not important right now. If he had planned to tell anyone else, he would have already done so.
I looked at the content of my palm, but hid it.
It was an Everest family stamp.
The initial S and E, now etched into my mind, had been visible on top of the family insignia.
Why? How? It should have been buried in that empty casket with the rest of her belongings in the family crypt.
I quickly slipped it inside my bag before walking through the door.
My luggage, which had felt light until now, felt heavy.
If someone were to catch me with this, I might end up facing the gallows.
A stamp was used to identify a noble either in contracts, correspondence, or even as physical evidence. Although not a proof of title on its own, this stamp, in the hands of someone who matched the description of Silika as per the family records, could easily claim her name, titles, dowry and properties.
A dangerous tool, especially outside of the hands of its rightful owner.
Did the young lord wish for Silika to return? Or perhaps he was more afraid of what it could do if it stayed within the household…
Outside, I walked quickly down the stone path and through the estate’s metal gate, which the doorman promptly closed behind me.
I looked back through the iron bars, but all I could see was a shell. The shell of a family that, in another life, I could have called dear to me.
I let out a sigh and started walking down the wide dirt path, which would lead me to the town down the valley.
I gazed at the rolling hills and breathed in the air. It would be the last time, perhaps for the rest of my life, that I laid eyes on this place.
It seemed peaceful.
And that made me angry.
I looked away and continued to make my way to the town just down the hillside. As I went through the threshold of the wooden gate, I crossed paths with a farmhand on his way back to the field.
When he noticed me, he stopped, crumpled his nose in disgust and scoffed.
“The nasty witch‘s still around, parently.” He spat at my feet before walking off.
“Scorn’s whores should stick to where they belong.” He muttered.
A nearby passerby snickered as he looked me up and down. I simply stared back at him for a whole three seconds, and that was enough to send him scampering.
Honestly… A witch? Had they ever even met a feral?
I have, and I hope I never do so again.
The rumours regarding me had long grown beyond the household. But even before I was known as a witch, I had been looked upon with disdain anytime I had come into town for my heritage.
Since the last non-Orthodox Meiriem church had been driven out of the region ten years back, anyone who didn’t look pink, blue or at least silver enough had been considered an outcast.
Foreigners had always been frowned upon in the countryside, but Oblon wasn’t the countryside. It was the second most populated county in the duchy, and the city of Oblon itself, only a 2-hour horse ride from here, was home to over 20,000 souls.
20,000 religious fanatics in a single city.
It had always been a hostile environment, but now it had gotten so bad that it felt like I would get lynched at any misstep.
After walking a few more minutes, I finally reached my destination, the town’s coach station.
For the last 15 years, this place has been a sort of haven for me. Travellers from all over the continent would stop here. They would tell me all types of stories and news about the world, drink with me and sometimes, they would even deliver letters to other traveller friends I had made over the years…
But the most important thing they gave me was camaraderie.
“So today’s the day, ‘init?” A voice said from my side.
I turned to meet with a now familiar face.
Evelyn.
If there was one person who was more despised than I was in this town, it was her.
Most people’s heritage and eventual blessings were only of mild inconvenience, but she was a kin to Istifh, the god of ‘Misappropriation’... More commonly known as the god of theft.
Was it not enough that she would be related to such a… Misunderstood deity… But the traits one received from it, even through generations of dilution, were unmistakable.
Shorter than most with soft features, an Istifh-kin could easily be mistaken for a child even late into Adulthood. The irises of their eyes were overdeveloped, taking nearly the entirety of their cornea. If that wasn’t enough, a recessive trait could cause two stumps to grow from their forehead in their adulthood, even if the rest of their traits were somehow erased through the generations.
Needless to say, even if one were to look past their god’s presumptions, the effect of any of these traits on their physical appeal, or lack thereof, could be considered the nail in the coffin for a normal social life… And Evelyn had all of them.
She watched me patiently with her marble-like eyes as I walked over to her.
I took off my hat and gently placed it on the table before letting out a long and tired sigh.
I dropped into the chair and let myself sink as my exhaustion noisily escaped my throat.
“I’ll drink to that!” She responded mockingly, while motioning to a server for two drinks.
“I need you…” I mumbled as I slowly straightened myself out.
“Now? After all these years? Well, if I’d known, I would have worn something nicer, but I’m sure I can get us a room some…” She started saying with a teasing smirk on her lips, but I cut her off.
“I need your services. One last time… Before I leave.”
She wiped off the smirk from her face and replaced it with a serious smile just as the waiter finally put down two large tankards of ale in front of us.
“Alright, let's go somewhere a little quieter.”
She picked up both our drinks and walked off toward the other side of the bar. I picked up my hat and followed her.
While walking side by side, she barely reached my chest, but I knew she was not to be trifled with.
It is unfortunate to say that the stereotype fits, but Evelyn, like a true follower of Istifh, was the local liaison to the Grey Market. A network of informants, tradesmen and merchants dealing in less-than-reputable businesses.
It was with her help that I had managed to sneak Silika to the other side of the kingdom so easily. It came at a cost, of course, but the results spoke for themselves, and Evelyn knew how to keep people quiet.
“So what can I do for you, friend?” She asked as she sat down in one of the booths by the window
She took a long sip from her drink while inviting me to do the same.
Here we could talk undisturbed.
I took a sip before I directed my hand toward the pocket of my bag, but stopped halfway and opted to use words instead.
After all, voices could be muffled, but not eyes.
“I was– Handed– A specific object from the Everest household.”
“Handed?”
She raised an eyebrow, and I nodded.
There was a very fine line between the Grey Market and the black market of the underworld.
And that line, even for me, Evelyn wouldn’t cross.
“Yes. In the name of Seeir, it was handed to me. I cannot speak for the one from whom I got it, but I didn’t ask for it either. So...”
I motioned my hand implicitly.
The tension in her face softened, and she took another sip of ale.
“I’m all ears then. Well, figuratively speaking!” She said pleasantly, chuckling at her own joke.
“It’s a stamp. I need it authenticated, but no one else can know I have it.” I said in a quick and dry voice.
I looked around. Luckily, it seemed no one had heard. Evelyn’s expression sobered up, and she straightened herself in the seat.
“Is it…Is it hers?” She asked with a worried expression.
I nodded almost imperceptibly before taking a sip from my drink.
She leaned back on the bench and rubbed the right protrusion on her forehead pensively before looking back up at me.
“I can’t help you, but I know someone who can.”
She motioned once more at the server before turning back to me.
“I’ll refer you, but… You do know the risks of holding on to this type of thing, right? Even if it was... handed to you?”
I nodded seriously.
In a flash, the waiter came back with a quill and an envelope.
She dexterously scribbled down an introduction letter before sealing it with a nearby candle’s wax and her thumb.
Inelegant, but effective.
“You’re heading for Evergreen, right?” She said with a motion toward a large coach that I recognised as the one I had a ticket for.
I nodded.
“You’re going to take a detour. Of course, you could find a thousand people who could authenticate it for you once in the big city, but you don’t want a thousand people to know, right?”
I nodded yet again. Explaining the reasoning and liabilities was part of her business, and this was already my second rodeo.
“At Lake Point, you’re going to switch carriage and head to Sunvale. Look for the green-headed man with four fingers on each hand at the coach station and give him this letter, sealed. He’ll know what to do.”
She handed me the letter, but as I grabbed it, she gripped my wrist.
“Be careful. I’m serious.” She said while looking me in the eyes, “You’re no good to that girl if you end up in a ditch.”
I smiled at the comment and put a hand on her wrist.
“I’ll be careful, I swear.” I heard a bell outside. “That’s my call.” I said as I stood up from my seat.
She grunted and cleared her throat before extending her open palm expectantly.
“Ah!” I exclaimed, realising my mistake.
I dug out four silver coins from my pocket and handed them to her. She looked at the content and nodded affirmatively.
“I’ll see you again.” She declared as she slipped the coins into her breast pocket.
“I doubt I’ll ever come back to this dump.” I commented dubiously as I looked around the place.
“That’s why I’m saying I’ll see you again. Take care!”
I put my hat back on and, with a last nod, headed out toward the carriage.
Comments
1v1 Me, No Items, Fox only, Final Destination
I truly feel so bad for Dalton, having to deal with such a nightmare of a familial situation. Also, Meiriem, get ahold of your following. What the hell has the deities of love and connection so preoccupied that they're missing hate-crimes being done in their name?
