Dreams, Distress, and Unexpected Bonds

Artorian, fueled by an amended bloodlust, flashed a smile that could terrify even the devil himself at the bewildered slave traders. The young wolf girl couldn't help but wonder, "Who is he?" With swift agility, Artorian dashed left and right, executing a sinister dance. Slashing on of the man's hand through the air, he quickly chopped off half of the next man's head, leaving a gruesome scene in his wake.

The splatter of the man's blood painted the young girl's face, her initial hope shattered into terror. What seemed like a savior now wore the mask of a merciless assailant, and she realized she might become another victim in his relentless slaughter.

"Die, you bastard!" shouted one of the remaining men, drawing his sword and lunging at Art. With a powerful swing of his great sword, Art sent the man hurtling into a tree, blood splattering over the snow. The five remaining men trembled in fear.

"Just what type of monster is this kid?" the leader thought, dropping his sword and falling to his knees. "We beg for your forgiveness." Without hesitation, Art cleaved the man in two. Fearing for their lives, three of the remaining men fled, knowing that staying meant certain death.

As Art approached the terrified man, blood dripping from his sword, the last survivor closed his eyes, awaiting his inevitable demise. However, Art's actions took a twisted turn. He began to ruthlessly bash the man repeatedly, instilling terror in the young girl who desperately struggled to loosen her bonds, yearning for life.

The sound of metal breaking pierced the air, and the girl turned to witness Art's great sword blade shattering. As if awakening from a trance, Art dropped the broken sword, realizing the massacre he had wrought. Gazing at the tearful young girl, he fell to his knees, vomiting blood, overwhelmed by the consequences of his bloodlust-driven actions.

As Art rose, he approached the still-scared young girl, who hesitantly allowed him closer. "I'm going to loosen them up," he said softly. With a nod, the girl permitted him to cut the ropes binding her. As the last strands fell away, she gazed at Art, offering a weak but grateful smile. In that moment, she recognized him as her savior amid the massacre.

Rosalind

Liz and I, running in the direction Art had disappeared, were met with the sight of Art walking towards us. In his arms, he held a young wolf girl, aged around 4 or 5, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. The unexpected encounter painted a surreal picture against the backdrop of the recent turmoil.

"Art, who is that?" Liz asked curiously.

"She was the one screaming for help," Art replied. Right then, we remembered the distant cries for help, and the young girl, still asleep in his arms, bore traces of tears in her eyes.

"Aww, she's adorable," Liz remarked in a sweet voice, noting her and Art both drenched in water

As we walked to the adventure guild, Art explained that she had been sold to slave traders by her own parents. He clarified that the blood on her was from one of the men and emphasized that he had defended himself without resorting to killing them.

"Art, where is your sword?" I questioned.

"Lost it," he replied. It was a shame; his great sword was a chunk of iron, so it cost a lot.

By now, as we walking the wolf girl was burying her face on Art's shoulder, occasionally peering over to look at me and Liz. Her trust and curiosity painted a poignant picture against the backdrop of the recent events.

It's heartbreaking to see her so tense. The cruelty of her parents, selling her into slavery, is truly reprehensible.

As we arrived at the adventure guild, the young girl had fallen asleep in Art's arms. After collecting the reward for our quest, we decided to take her to Art's place, providing a temporary refuge from the shadows of her recent ordeal.

With Art holding the girl, I approached the door and knocked. We heard steps approaching, and Sophia, Art's sister, opened the door. She had green hair and eyes with shades of yellow, much like Art's, creating a striking similarity between them.

Sophia observed Art holding the nuzzling girl in his arms. "Brother, who's that?" she inquired. Without a word, Art placed the girl in my arms and walked past his sister, leaving the explanation for a later moment.

Art has a tendency to avoid certain questions.

"Bastard," I whispered to myself.

"Come in, Rose, Liz," Sophia invited us. Inside, I gently placed the girl on the bed, and Lilith began to clean and heal her wounds. Glancing out the window, I noticed Arthur practicing magic. His hair and eyes resembled Sophia's, adding another layer to the intricate web of family resemblances.

It's interesting how their features are inherited. And I think Art got his black hair from his father. Sophia and Arthur inherited green hair from their mother, but they all share the same eye color from they mother if i remember, it creates a unique blend of family traits.

Some questions linger, untouched and unasked, such as the mysteries surrounding their parents or the reason behind Art's missing eye. The eye patch has been a constant since childhood, a silent enigma that remains unexplored.

"So, she's still asleep?" Art entered the room, and Lilith, standing up, walked up to him with a glare. "Master, who is this girl?" she inquired.

Before Art could respond, Liz stepped in, saying, "He saved her."

"From what?" Lilith questioned.

"Slave traders," Liz replied, shedding light on the recent ordeal.

"Well, Master, she's your responsibility now," Lilith declared to Art. The manner in which she phrased it conveyed a sense of ownership, almost as if the girl were a possession rather than a person.

I asked Lilith if Liz and I could stay the night. She agreed and sent Art to inform our parents about our temporary stay. Liz and I shared the same room as the young girl, per Lilith's request. The room had three beds, providing enough space for all of us.

As I reflected, I realized we never learned the girl's name. Perhaps, when she wakes up, we can inquire. Liz and I took a bath, and after drying our hair, Liz yawned, expressing concern about the sleeping girl.

"She'll be fine; Lilith used a healing spell on her," I reassured Liz, and she sighed in relief. As we lay on the beds, fatigue enveloped us, and we drifted off into slumber.

Artorian

In my dream, I found myself in a town that bore the appearance of brick buildings. However, some of the walls were replaced with expansive glass sections. The road beneath me, while reminiscent of gravel, was distinctly black. Curious, I kicked at it, but no pebbles scattered. It seemed seamlessly fused into the road, adorned with yellow lines for reasons unknown. Glancing around, I noticed tree trunks with objects resembling strings on top of them, casting an air of mystery over the dream landscape.

In this dream, unlike the last one, I found myself able to move. I walked through the town, passing by signs that displayed the same language as in the previous dream. "What is this place?" I pondered to myself.

As I continued walking, screams echoed in the air, and suddenly, the sky transformed into a haunting shade of blood red. The dream took a unsettling turn, adding a layer of disquiet to the mysterious surroundings.In this dream, unlike the last one, I found myself able to move. I walked through the town, passing by signs that displayed the same language as in the previous dream. "What is this place?" I pondered to myself.

As I continued walking, screams echoed in the air, and suddenly, the sky transformed into a haunting shade of blood red. The dream took a unsettling turn, adding a layer of disquiet to the mysterious surroundings.

Waking abruptly, my head throbbing, I heard crying emanating from the room where Liz, Rose, and the young girl were.

"What the hell?" I muttered, a sense of urgency driving me to investigate the source of the distress.

Rosalind

I slowly woke up to the sound of birds chirping. Glancing to my left, I saw Liz observing the young girl.

"Is she still asleep?" I inquired.

"Yes, and she looks peaceful sleeping, so I guess that's a good sign," Liz replied.

After a while, the girl stirred awake, sitting on the bed and rubbing her eyes.

"Good morning," Liz greeted her in a soft voice.

Upon seeing Liz, the girl began sobbing and crying. Liz tried to reassure her, saying, "Hey, don't cry."

Lilith and Arthur walked into the room. "Keep it down," Arthur said in an annoyed tone. The girl rushed to hug Arthur's leg, momentarily ceasing her tears. However, as she looked up at him, she resumed crying even harder.

"What's up with her?" Arthur looked confused.

Sophia entered the room, attempting to comfort the crying girl. "There, there, it's okay," she reassured, but the girl continued to cry, seemingly inconsolable despite the comforting words. The mystery behind her distress remained elusive.

"Who the hell is crying?" Art entered the room. The girl looked at Art and ran up to him, hugging his leg. Art picked her up and asked, "Why is she crying?"

Before anyone could respond, the girl said, "hic Big brother, I was scared," her sobs subsiding. The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air.

"HUH?!" echoed through the room as the unexpected revelation of the girl referring to Art as her big brother left everyone in surprise.