Snippet #1798524

"Master Jesfahlt!"

"Out of the way! I saw him first!"

"Mr. Jesfahlt! Please! Just one painting!"

"My leg!"

"Pardon me, sorry. Hey! C'mon now! Can't you see he's had enough! He-" "Move!" "Ow!"

Sevrannis was getting tired. Being pushed around by a crowd of people he didn't know with almost all of them yelling at him for some reason or another coupled with his already weak constitution sapped away at his strength to the point where he could barely stand. No, wait, he stopped standing quite a while ago. He's actually being held up by crowd's squeezing, and Sevrannis was pretty sure that constant squeezing upon the body wasn't good for it. He could barely breathe, much less yell out to try to at least calm the crowd. All he could do was keep his painting raised high above his head, but his strength was already on its last ropes. The painter could barely think, his consciousness fading fast.

'Someone! P-please help!' The painter thought desperately, tightly closing his eyes as he hoped for a miracle.

"Let me through! He shall paint for- hrm! How dare you! Unhand me- Argh!"

"What in the? Who are- Ah!"

"Huh? Whoa!"

"Gah!"

"Remove yourselves from my path or I shall make you!" someone yelled in a piercing loud voice.

The crowd, almost as one, looked at the owner of the voice and stepped back. However, the people that were holding up the red head stepped back with the group, causing the red head to stumble face-first. Luckily, a man from the crowd rushed in and caught the painter before he hit the ground.

"Mr. Jesfalt, are you alright?!" the man said, shaking the painter lightly.

Dazed, the painter looked at the man. "Y-yes, I'm fine, now. Thank you," he replied as he tried to stand, but only succeeded in righting himself before falling into a seating position on the grass. Sevrannis looked around for a moment, and then gasped. "M- my painting! Where-"

"Here," said a voice behind him.

'That voice…' Sevrannis thought, mind muddled from lack of oxygen, 'Could it be?'

Sevrannis turned his body to face the owner of the voice and gasped in a mixture of surprise and happiness. Standing before him was a tall woman, taller than most of the male Inish Hymas in the crowd by about a full head, holding his painting in one hand, the other on the hilt of a sword on her back. Her face was quite pretty, but was set in a stern look, piercing blue eyes directed at the painter and the man, a slight frown upon her features. Red hair flowed from her head, stopping just below her neck and cut straight in the front, most likely to keep her hair out of her eyes, and was a shade darker than the painter's.

She was dressed in what appeared to be treated ironwood armor, though not completely; gauntlets and vambraces protected her hands and arms, her ankles to her feet covered by greaves and leather boots, and to complete it, her upper body up to her neck covered in a cuirass with the image of the sun emblazed on its front in gold paint, with faulds covering her waist and thighs. If one looked close enough, there were numerous scars along the armor and some parts of the steel showed that it had been repaired several times. Marks of her trials and experiences. She wore a red long-sleeved shirt under her armor along with equally red shorts that ended just above her knees. A sheathed claymore was strapped over her back, a single hand on its hilt, ready to be drawn.

All in all, the woman looked very intimidating, many frozen in place, staring at her with a slight fear.

The only person who did not seem to be intimidated by her was Sevrannis, who in fact, looked incredibly happy to see her.

"Clochette!"

The intimidating woman, Clochette, smiled, her face filling with warmth. "Hello, Sev." She turned her attention to the man next to him, smile gone and warmth gone, the frown once again on her face.

"Your name?" she asked in a clipped tone, her voice as cold as ice.

"Cedric Altresta, ma'am." he said, gulping. He couldn't help but add the 'ma'am' at the end.

"An Altresta?" At that, she gave Cedric a slight bow, arm crossing her shoulder in a formal salute. "I thank you for trying to aid my baby brother, Sir Altresta. I am Clochette Jesfahlt, Sev's elder sister and watchman of Haubenor."

'Elder sister?' the crowd thought as one. Sevrannis was related to such a scary woman? And to top it off, a watchman? Watchmen were known to defend the city from nixae on the nights when they are most active, in addition to defending against criminals and such, and are always the first line of defense when the dark season of Rumiaury comes around.

She was definitely someone not to cross.

Clochette kneeled beside her brother, cupping his cheek with an armored hand while placing the painting on the ground next to her. "Are you alright, Sev?" she asked.

Sevrannis nodded. "I'm fine now. A little winded, but fine."

His sister frowned. "You almost pass out and you say you’re 'a little winded?' You can barely stand up."

"That's not true! Look!" The painter, once more, tried to stand, but only got as far as getting on his knees before falling again, Cedric and Clochette catching him. The painter chuckled weakly. "Okay… maybe not."

The armored woman sighed as she removed Sevrannis's things before looping an arm under his and lifting him up into her arms… like a husband carrying his wife, much to the amusement of the people.

"Clo!" Sevrannis yelped, an embarrassed blush on his face. "This is- I'm a grown man! You don't have to carry me like this!"

Clochette merely gave him a blank look. "This is the most comfortable way to carry someone," she replied simply. The beginnings of a smirk tugged at her lips. "And teasing my baby brother is the job of the elder sister."

"Clo!"

The elder Jesfahlt turned her head towards Cedric, ignoring her brother's whine.

"Sir Altresta. Carry my brother's things, would you?" she asked. Her commanding tone, however, made it sound like an order more than anything.

Cedric nodded quickly. "Understood, ma'am." he said, moving to collect Sevrannis's bags. He awkwardly lifted them onto his shoulders, but it wasn't too heavy a burden, if a little uncomfortable.

"Oh!" Sevrannis suddenly spoke up, his sister turning to him. " About the painting… I was going to place it under the tree there. See?" He pointed to the tree in question, where the painting he had done before breakfast leaned on its trunk.

Clochette nodded. She turned her head toward a random man in the crowd, a wealthy man, judging by his clothes and gait, fixing him a slight glare. "Take this painting," she gestured her head to the painting on the floor, "and put it next to the other one."

"M-me?" the wealthy man gulped, pointing to himself. Clochette raised a delicate eyebrow that said 'Are you really asking such a stupid question?'. After a moment, the man nervously stepped forward, trying not to meet the woman's gaze, and picked up the painting.

"Try not to damage it," the female watchman said. "My brother would have a heart attack."

The man complied, fully aware that the elder Jesfahlt was watching him like a hawk. He carefully picked up the painting by the sides, walked over to the tree, and set it down gently next to the other one. With a satisfied nod, Clochette turned to Sevrannis.

"Where are you lodging, Sev?"

"Um… I can take you, if you put me down…"

"No."

Sevrannis sighed. "…It's that way," he said in a resigned voice as he pointed his hand toward a direction.

The watchman nodded. "Come along, Sir Altresta," she called out as she began to walk.

"Right…" Cedric replied, following the woman.

The crowd stared at them as they left the area, one thought going through their minds.

'What just happened?'

…Today was a weird day.