Trapped in hatred & lies

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redblood

Anxious Tomato Will Bite You!
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Afternoons, evenings and nights.
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  1. Male
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Historical, fantasy, magic, horror, supernatural, survival, vampires, demons, pirates, mutants, ghosts, romance (FxF, MxM, MxF) (Romance should be part of the plot and not the whole plot in itself), etc.
(one x one between Etãnaru Fureimu & Redblood)

Lonavan Phendin felt a faint taste of blood in his mouth, he was at his breaking point. He stumbled over his own feet and fell towards the ground. Luckily he caught a branch and could get his balance back, but that did not help regain his energy. He sat down, leaning against a tree, just concentrating on his breathing. The young man had been on the run from the law for weeks, but he hadn't done anything wrong. No one would listen to a criminal though.

It all began in his family home where he had lived with his mother, Sylvia, father Archimedes, his two brothers, Filivious and Atlas, and his two sisters, Amia and Ceral. They had lived in a rather pompous mansion, some would say, and money had never been much of an issue. Their house was placed quite a bit away from any other, as his father enjoyed the privacy and his mother was a nature lover. Even so they had strong connections to the nearby city. His father was a well respected man and had accepted many missions from the palace. Archimedes didn't work directly under the king at that point, though he had been doing so in the far past.

One night, everything changed. Lonavan woke up in the middle of the night because of a strange noise. Voices seemed to be arguing a few rooms away from his own, both male. Odd. No one had been visiting them that day, and who in their right mind would come to their home in the middle of the night? The curious boy left his bed and followed the voices. He didn't get the chance to figure out what they were arguing about though as a scream came from the room.

Lonavan threw up the door and was met by the sight of his father gasping for air on the floor. His chest was pierced with a sword which was soon pulled out of the body by non other than the king's most trusted general, Alberon Linovahle. The man had been visiting them many times before, even stayed for dinner at times. So why? Why would he had called friend?

The teen hadn't been able to move at first. "Well this was certainly an unfortunate turn of events." The general mumbled, stepping towards Lonavan. That certainly got him to react. The boy turned and started to run. He didn't think about his action, he just acted on his instincts. First when he had stopped outside, hiding in the dark with the trees as shelter, he thought about what he had done. He had escaped, but he had also left his family with a dangerous man. He tried to rationalize it. Alberon was probably only out after his father, and now when Lonavan had seen him commit the crime, he would only be out after him. His family was probably safe as long as they didn't know what had happened.

He took comfort in those thoughts while laying low, and trying to see and hear if the general was trying to find him, but he didn't see nor hear anyone. Was he still in the house? Minutes past and nothing happened. Then, suddenly, a small light shone in a window. Had his mother woken up? Was she going to go down to Archimedes study and find his lifeless body? Was Alberon still inside or not? Then the light grew, and soon it was clear that it wasn't just a few candles being lit. Flames started to appear in the windows. The house was on fire. Outside he could finally see moving shapes in the dark.

Three or four horses and their masters assembled not far from the house. He couldn't get to it without being seen. They did nothing about the growing fire, obviously they wished for it to continue. Part of Lonavan wanted to rush into the house and save his family, but how would that help if he got killed in the process? He just hoped his mother and siblings were alive and could get out of a window without being seen. Unfortunately, they wouldn't be that lucky.

Instead of lingering, the teen started to run. He had to get into town and tell everyone what had happened. What Alberon had done. Maybe if he hurried, he could get there fast enough for them to gather a rescue team that could take to their horses and get back to the mansion before it was too late for his family. Maybe he could make it. Maybe they could be saved.

But once he got into town he realized how futile his attempt was. Luckily he spotted a familiar horse, which he was certain belonged to the general. He didn't have to wait long before his suspicions were confirmed. The man came out of the inn he had visited, an inn Lonavan had come to many times with his family. The general thanked the inn keeper for understanding. "It's truly unfortunate when these kind of things happens, but you never know when people will snap. No one would have been able to suspect this of such a young man. If the boy happens to come to you, report to us immediately."

Were Alberon speaking of him? It soon became clear to the boy that everyone would believe he was the criminal. No one would believe him. No one would listen. Not before he had gotten evidence for his innocence.

Thus Lonavan left town. Now, weeks later, he was frozen and alone. Just hours earlier, the young man had been attacked by thieves and had barely been able to escape. The little food he had been able to collect had been taken and now he didn't have any energy to hunt, nor had he been able to find any eatable plants for a while. How would he be able to survive this on his own? How would he be able to convince people of his innocence?

For now he did not care to answer all the important questions that flew around in his head. Instead he let the darkness consume him as he fell asleep because of exhaustion.

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Horace could over hear sounds of agression from inside the house as he kept his head on the door. "I told you to have it by today, so where is it!!!! Where is my money!!!" A male voiced yelled angrily. "I'm sorry but I was layed off again. I'll try and have the money next we-" Objects could be heard breaking which caused Horace to knock hard on the door.

Suddenly, all of the commotion stopped, with a man opening up right after. The man was decently fit, looked to be in his early twenties and had pulled back sleek hair that would make one question if he put camel spit in it. "We're busy right now. Come back later." Just as the man was about to close the door, Horace forced it all the way open with ease. "I've some important business with the owner of this residence that cannot be discussed at a later. Now, if you'll excuse me..." He said camly before casually walking past the man who wore an agitated expression.

After walking a little further into the house, Horace had found a woman in her mid thirties, trying her best to fix a torn portrait painting. "I apologize for the intrusion ma'am but may I have a word with you for a moment? It is rather important." He didn't bother asking to see if she was the owner or not because it felt a bit obvious based on what she was doing. Not to mention, the woman had matched the small description of her that he was given which also played a part into his justifiable assumption.

The woman turned to face Horace with a forced graceful greeting. "It's alright. It's not like you're the first one that made it inside my house without permission. What is it?" The woman asked. "Does the name Bertrand Tercrest ring a bell?" The middle aged female took a step back before responding. "Uhhh, yes! Bertrand was my husband at one point in time but we divorced a few years back. Why are you asking?" Horace gave her a serious look. "Because there's reason to believe that he's out to kill you which is why I was sent here to act as your bodyguard until further notice." He pulled out a rolled up sheet of paper before handing the woman it shortly after.

"What's this?" The woman questioned while skimming through the handwritten ink placed on the paper. "It's a conditional note basically saying that you agree to me being by your side until you're no longer in danger; so long as you adhere to the conditions required on it. And as you may have noticed, it also needs your signature." Horace pointed out as the greesy haired man from before walked in. "Have my money by next week Helen or else!!" The man noted before making his way out while glaring at Horace.

He didn't pay much mind to the man's angry eye stare since it was normal for people to respond to his brash behavior in that type of manner. Helen quickly put her signature on it before handing the paper back to Horace. It wasn't of no surprise to him that she would make up her mind so quickly after being motivated by the camel spit haired man's threatening words because he witnessed others crack under the pressure for less. At least by making up her decision, allowed the temporary bodyguard to start doing his job.

"So what now?" Helen asked curiously. "Now I become your shadow. Everywhere you go, I go with only bathroom areas being the only exceptions. You go about your life just as you would on any other. Any fights will be left to me until I'm no longer needed but I sincerely hope you don't abuse the armor that has been given to you. And if anyone asks, I'm your cousin Alexander who'll be staying with you for awhile." Horace explained.

The woman began walking around him while examining his attire with apparently more questions formulating in her head. "I hope you're great at blending in because I don't want to feel as though I'm stuck to a tree if you get my meaning. And based on the contract, you're supposed to be a guard of some sort right? If so, why do you look like you barely came prepared?" Helen asked in a tone that made her seem even more curious than ever. As Horace prepared to respond, all of his surroundings started to become hazy. Eventually, all of his vision faded before it returned back to him seconds later.

However, the woman that he was hired to protect was nowhere in sight once it returned. Horace began rushing around the house in search of Helen before leaving out of the front door. The man pushed through crowds and crowds of people hanging around the streets only to stumble upon an alleyway which happened to attract his attention for some reason. He didn't know why it peaked his interest but he figured that he would find the answer to that soon enough.

Horace proceeded into the alley with great haste, while keeping his guard up for anything. He began hearing sounds echoing from the other end of the narrow path as he got closer and they only became louder with every additional step taken. Figures started to come into eye's view as well the closer the man was to the opposing end of the alleyway. Once Horace made it to the other side, his eyes widened before he shot up from out of his slumber.

He lived in a decently sized cabin stationed right outside of town. Horace has been living there ever since an event occurred in his past that has caused him to become distant from the world. However, he has managed to maintain his job as a guard until just recently when he was put on temporary leave in order to allow the man time to reevaluate himself. This was only due to his skills being sighted as highly valuable by a percentage of the higher - ups, otherwise, he would've been relieved of his position upon failing to live up to what was expected of him.

Horace began getting dressed soon after rising from out of his bed. After he was well clothed, the man grabbed some hunting equipment before heading outside. The second the door opened, he could notice the chilly temperature but it wasn't cold enough to force him back inside. His eye quickly caught the attention of what appeared to be the sounds of abeast traversing through the nearby forest, causing him to pursue after it as quiet as possible.

Eventually, the beast made a sudden stop which allowed Horace enough time to get close enough to see what it was. "Ahh, a boy instead of a deer huh? Well that's just great." The man muttered to himself as he moved over to the knocked out teen. The blond boy appeared to be rather dirty, a bit malnourished as well as on the verge of death which caused Horace to sigh before tossing the unconscious boy onto his back and head back to his cabin right after.

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Lonavan slowly regained consciousness. How much time had passed? At least half a day he assumed, because he were no longer cold. The sun must have been very strong to be able to get through the thick leaves and all those trees. Though it was rather odd. It didn't feel like he was lying in a forest at all. The ground beneath him was too even. That wasn't the only thing that felt wrong though. The sounds of nature were completely gone, and so was most of the smell.

It didn't take him long to realize he wasn't lying outside on the ground. The young man opened his eyes, and sat up in a far too fast motion for his condition, terrified that he might be kidnapped or in a prison already. Only seconds later he fell back again, as he got a temporary blackout because of his sudden movement. As he slowly got back his vision again, he forced himself to stay calm and then he examined his surrounding.

It looked like a house, though it seemed much smaller than what he was used to. He slowly moved and sat himself up. No chains or rope to keep him in place, that was a good sign. Did that mean a decent person had stumbled upon him? It was quite hard to believe after the weeks he had been through. People had tried to trick him, beat him up and steal from him. Though considering the places he had to escape to, it wasn't a big surprise. He couldn't show himself in places people would recognize him, and he couldn't speak to people he trusted as they might not trust him any longer.

While Lonavan didn't wish to think badly of his friends, some people would rather trust the law than what a supposed murderer said. He wouldn't have been better himself if he had been on the other side of the fence. If someone he trusted came to him and told him that someone close to him had done something unforgiving, he would most likely report them at first sight. Even he would have believed the general if he had been the one hearing the news without being involved.

"Where am I?" He asked the air, as he hadn't gotten a good enough look around the room to see if anyone was in there. For now he felt rather safe. There were no guards there to drag him away, nor anyone who tried to force him to stay until a guard came to get him. As far as he knew, he could leave at any time. At least if his body would allow it. Walking didn't seem like a possibility, at least not for now. His body was too weak, and he had no food to refill his energy with. It seemed as if he would be at the mercy of whoever had taken him in. Hopefully they hadn't been in town recently to see those damn wanted posters that were circulating.
 
The boy was a breeze to bring in but Horace couldn't stop staring at the knocked out guest in his house. Why was he out in the woods? What happened to his parents? Despite being off duty at the moment, he was still a guard and stray teens like this one needed to be returned to their family.

However, Horace had no intentions of going back into town today. Even with this unexpected visitor taking refuge in his home, his mindset was unchanged. The time it would take to bring the boy to town and back would cost him the entire day. Not to mention that the teen was in no condition to be traveling. Plus, the teen was near dead in the woods for a reason, and Horace wanted to know why. It was the least the boy could do for being saved from the wolves.

As time went on, the middle aged man decided that a fruit was next in line to be eaten. He walked out the room before nonchalantly snatching an apple from off his table. After getting his desired fruit, he casually strolled back into the room to find the teen still laying there. I guess the kid really is tired. Horace said lowly, feeling a bit disappointed that the boy was actually knocked out.

Being a guard, Horace was used to hearing reports about thieves raiding people houses. When the house owners were questioned, a huge percentage of them noted that an orphan youngster came by their respective houses and convinced them to stay with them for a short time. The weird thing was, the orphan children had left before the first day was over, only for each of their households to be deprived of its valuables days after the kid's departure. After hearing stuff like that, it was best to be a little cautious of any stranger taking shelter with him. Though the bedridden teen seemed to not be faking his exhausted condition, he wasn't off the hook yet.

Horace sunk his teeth into the apple right before the teen suddenly rose up with great speed. His eyes tilted toward the teen as the teen fell back down, just to rise back up again. The teen seemed pretty quick to move for a person who just became conscious which was a mix between normal and suspicious for an average person to do. However, the middle aged man thought nothing of it since his mind was too focused on finishing his apple rather than keeping his attention on a blonde haired teen who was probably going to pass out again.

The teen finally spoke, causing Horace to swallow another piece of the apple before responding. "Not up high, I can tell you that much. Seems like you've been out for quite some time boy. But, I suppose you didn't wake up randomly for nothing. Might some food interest you?" The middle aged man offered. Horace was sure that the teen would ask sooner or later, so he felt that it was best to get the question out the way now.
 
A voice startled the boy and as he turned around he saw an older man, seemingly around his father's age. It did make him slightly nervous. If he worked or had worked with the city guards, then he would most likely be loyal to them and immediately report him once finding out who the boy was. Though at the same time, he could just be a random old man living in the woods. Just because he had quite the scar, didn't mean it had to come from the battlefield.

"Uhm... You don't have to.." Lonavan started before his stomach started to object. Refusing food was apparently not allowed at the moment, and after just a few moments, he realized it would be foolish, if not deadly, to refuse the offer. That didn't mean that he liked it though. Asking for food like a simple beggar was quite embarrassing. Never had he thought that his life would turn in such a direction.

"If it... Wouldn't be too much of a bother... Could I please get something to eat." It was his first time asking such a question. It had always been obvious that he would be able to get some food whenever he felt hungry, and even during the past few weeks he had at the very least been able to find enough to keep him alive, but now he had to resort to begging. What would his father think if he saw him now?

"I don't mean for free of course." Lonavan then continued. He would have a hard time looking at himself in the mirror if he accepted charity so easily. "I don't have any money on me, but if you have anything that has to be done, I might be able to help." He then mentioned. He hadn't really done chores before, nor done very much physical work, so he might have to ask some questions, but at the very least he could try his best. It was better than just accepting help and then leaving. He had his and his family's honor to think about, even when no one knew who he was, or when everyone thought of him as a cruel murderer.
 
Horace couldn't help but chuckle at the boy's response. The kid couldn't make up his mind so his stomach made the choice for him. Not to mention that when he finally asked, he made it seem as if asking for something the man already offered was hard to do. Almost as if the child was the offspring of a noble family.


"Well if you wish to help, you can start by keeping yourself alive. And if you want to help in any other way, then you best get your strength back before offering your assistance. There's no point in trying to assist with anything when you have trouble moving. As for the food, I'll get right on it." Horace noted before taking his leave from the room.

The man walked over to the kitchen side of his cabin after exiting the room while wearing a questioning look. It was rare for him to have guests and cooking was never his strong point. The only thing Horace knew how to cook properly was beef stew. Fortunately, that was exactly what the boy needed.

Horace pulled out a large cooking pot and filled it with cold water. Afterwards, he placed the pot on top of a spit before lighting a fire underneath. While the water within the pot increased in temperature, he started chopping up some vegetables. The vegetables chosen were composed of mostly carrots and potatoes, with the rest being chosen at random. Once the vegetables had been nicely split into chunks, he tossed them in the pot before pulling out a large see -throughable jar from one of the kitchen's cabinets. The jar held an adequate amount of beef chunks salted down to preserve their individual freshness.
 
Lonavan nodded in response and watched the man leave the room. How odd. Shouldn't he be somewhat worried over having a stranger in his home? The teen was certainly no threat to the man's property or life, but that wasn't something the old man could know for sure. He wouldn't complain though. If the older male decided that the risk was too big and kicked him out, he might not make it. It was better if he just stayed oblivious and un-suspicious until Lonavan was up on his feet again.

The young man sat still for a bit, but eventually his curiosity got the best of him and he started to move towards the kitchen. It didn't move particularly fast since any hasty movements made him quite dizzy at the moment. Hopefully a decent meal would fix that. Though a decent meal hadn't really been what he had expected. He figured the old man would just go fetch him a fruit or a sandwich, but as the minutes had ticked by, he figured something else, more complicated, had been on his mind.

Looking into the kitchen, the first thing Lonavan noticed was the large cooking pot. It hadn't cooked for long, but even so, he was sure he felt the scent coming from it already. That definitely set his stomach off, and it started making all kinds of noises. If it had been able to speak any actual words, it would probably have said something in style with, 'give me that food, I don't care that it isn't ready yet.'

Laying eyes on the older man, Lonavan was reminded of the bad manners he was currently showing. "Uhm.. Excuse me for intruding mister.." He stopped. Had the older man told him his name yet? He was fairly certain he hadn't heard any name being spoken out loud, but considering how tired he was, he might just not remember it.
 
Horace opened up the jar before releasing a couple of the beef chunks into the pot. Afterwards, he sealed the jar and proceeded to store it back into the cabinet. Now with that finished and done with, all the food needed now was time to be cooked. However, the man wasn't prepared to step from out of the kitchen just yet.

Even though the food part of the meal was pretty much done with, a fitting beverage needed to go with it. Horace pulled out two glass mugs and proceeded down to his cellar. Upon entering the underground area, two large barrels could be seen. One of the barrels were filled to the brim with wine while the other being filled with non - alcoholic apple cider.

The man walked over toward the barrel that held apple cider in it before filling up both mugs with it simultaneously. He would've indulged in wine had it been any other day but it wasn't wise to get drunk in front of a guest who could easily take advantage of his weakened state. Well at least one who couldn't be trusted just yet. After the mugs were filled, Horace began making his way out of the cellar. Even though the food probably wasn't fully cooked yet, he wasn't the type to leave food unattended for long.

A couple minutes later and the man had made it out of the cellar. He placed the two mugs on the kitchen counter as words mysteriously traveled through the kitchen. Horace quickly turned to the source of the words, only to see the blond boy standing before him. It was a bit surprising to see the kid's sudden appearance but it wasn't enough to startle him. "Yes?" The man asksd casually, being somewhat curious of what the youngster had on his mind.
 
Lonavan's eyes went back and forward between the old man and the stew a few times before he finally replied. "I uhm... Just wondered if you need help with anything." He said even though he felt his stomach's protests. It just wanted to know if they could dig in on the food already. "I didn't mean to be such an inconvenience for you, something simple would have sufficed." He then added while looking embarrassed towards the stew.

Making something like that for a stranger, it definitely made the young man feel slightly ashamed for some reason. It felt as if he was intruding even more, even though it hadn't been him who had asked for the old man to make him something so complicated. Was it complicated though? Lonavan wasn't sure since he hadn't really cooked anything before, but it must be harder than just getting a piece of bread and putting on some cheese.

"What's your name? If you don't mind me asking." He then asked. It felt odd to think old man all the time. The question immediately made him realize that the man probably would want his name as well. What would he say? If he gave him his real name, the man might realize who he was. It wasn't always that people remembered the faces from the wanted posters, but names weren't easily forgotten. He needed something he wouldn't forget. Something that was close enough to his own name that he could easily react on it if someone called him, and at the same time far enough away from his real name for people not to be suspicious when they heard it.
 
Horace looked at the boy with a calm expression. "Well maybe a good minute ago but not at the moment. Why don't you take a seat instead?" The man offered. He could tell that the blonde haired boy seemed very eager to help as if as starving out in the woods happened two weeks ago. However, if the boy was anymore fixated on helping in his weak condition, the man would surely stuff him with something to do.

Horace's eyebrow soon raised in response to the boy's comment on being an inconvenience for the man cooking something apparently commplex for him. All he was really doing was throwing a bunch of chopped up vegetables and meat chunks into a pot so that it could cook. Then again, the middle aged man wasn't a trained cook so maybe that was something hard to put together on a daily basis but it didn't matter. Anything that contributed to him staying in shape was a good thing.

"Aww, don't worry about it boy. This is nothing, and you'll probably come to find out that I tend to make this often." Horace noted as the blonde boy proceeded to ask him for his name. "The name's Horace Alexander and I wouldn't suppose you'd tell me your name as well?" He responded in that of a questioning tone. The man didn't mind if the boy wasn't open to tell him his name just yet since he did wake up in a stranger's house. However, he would at least want for the boy to give him a name of some kind to call him by other than "boy".
 
Lonavan nodded and sat down on an empty chair. It definitely felt strange to be alone in a room with a complete stranger who was cooking food for them. His mother and father had never let him be alone with a stranger before. Even when it had come to friends of their family or people his father had worked with, they rarely let Lonavan go too far away from their sight. Overprotective was definitely one way of describing them. Funnily enough that behavior had only been directed towards him. his siblings could run into the forest for hours without them ever freaking out, but if he disappeared for ten minutes without their knowledge, chaos was assured to break out. Their behavior just became stranger when considering that he was the middle child. Not the oldest who would become the heir to most of their belongings. Not the youngest who could be seen as the most fragile. He was just the middle child, that one most families didn't pay much attention to. His parents were certainly odd.

Horace Alexander. He didn't recognize the name. Not because he had expected to recognize it, but maybe he had unconsciously felt slightly anxious about it. After all, his father had known and spoken to a lot of generals and high ranked guards. If he had fallen into the cave of one of his father's old friends, and that friend believed the stories of him being a murderer, then he would be done for. Luckily most of his father's friends had never even met the boy before as he rarely invited people to his home, with some exceptions. Though his father did love to speak about his past and the people he used to work with, so a lot of names floated around in the boy's head. There still was a possibility that the man might know his father, but even so, the chance of him recognizing the boy as Archimedes son was very slim, as he didn't look much like his father. Lonavan didn't look much like his mother either. Apparently he had gotten most of his appearance from his grandfather, but he wasn't too sure if that was true as he never had met his grandfather. He died long before the young man had been born.

"Lo.. Leon. My name's Leon." Lonavan stuttered slightly. The name was close enough to his own for him to react on it, but far enough from his own to not be recognize if Horace knew of the boy that had supposedly murdered his family. He didn't give a surname though. Hopefully the man wouldn't mind that. Once he had come up with something that he thought he could remember easily, he would tell it to Horace if he asked again. Until then he would just give the excuse that it was a bit uncomfortable giving his full name to a complete stranger.

"Do you live here alone?" The boy asked as he looked around a bit. He hadn't seen anyone else, and he hadn't heard anyone else. A man of his age should have children and a wife, at least if he lived as most other people did. Wouldn't most people get lonely if they lived all alone in a cabin?
 
"Leon huh? You don't look like a Leon to me. Then again, I've only just met you so I suppose time will tell whether or not the name fits you." Horace said casually as he chose to take a seat as well. To him, Leon was a name given to a child that would sprout with much wisdom and courage. However, this boy didn't seem to be exhibiting any of those qualities. Still, at the end of the day, it was just a name that could've been given to anyone so he shouldn't expect more from the name than any other one that could've been given to the boy.Horace eyes widened a bit as the blonde hair boy asked if he lived alone. Despite what one would expect, that was a bit of a hard question to answer. Technically, the man lived alone but he had guests that came around on occasion that stayed over for months at a time.

The question is, why would it matter? Was the kid actually planning on robbing him after all or was this his way of conducting simple conversation? It could just be the fact that he looked old because he hadn't shaved his beard in awhile. Either way, Horace would answer honestly since he knew that he was more than capable of taking care of any intruders. "Yeah, outside of a few guests who come to stay for a bit every now and then." The middle aged man answered as he tilted his head toward the pot. The food smelled like it was cooking well and it could be done soon, unless it was done already.Still, a few extra minutes cooking wouldn't hurt the meal in the end. On the other hand, if the food was finished already, then Horace and Leon could use that time eating instead of waiting unnecessarily. At the same time, if the food turned out to be uncooked when Horace checked prematurely, then it would've been a wasteful trip to get up in the first place. With that being noted, the distance between his seat and the pot wasn't very far off so it was pretty much a question of whether he would be lazy for a few more minutes or not.

As expected, the middle aged man chose to wait rather than checking up on the bulky meal right then and there. "So, Leon, just how old are you?" Horace asked as he leaned back in his chair. The question regarding the boy's age sort of bugged him the entire time since he looked pretty old but his mannerisms made him seem young. Maybe it was because the kids that looked Leon's age were known to cause trouble on average. At least they were while Horace was on patrol but the crimes the boys' committed were usually overlooked or minimized unlike their older counterparts. If he had to judge the boy's age though, he would say that Leon was about 14 or 15.
 
If Lonavan got to decide, time wouldn't tell the old man anything about him. As fast as he had gotten his powers back and re-payed his debt, he would be leaving again. If he stayed too long in one place, the guards would certainly find him. They probably knew by now that the boy had been hiding in the forest as the town would be far too dangerous for him.

The teen found himself quite relieved over the fact that the main lived alone. It was fair to assume that the old man had no clue that the boy was a suspected criminal at this point, but if anyone else had lived there, they might have remembered him from a wanted poster. Though the guest thing was slightly troubling. If he expected anyone or if anyone came over unannounced, Lonavan might get into trouble. If anyone came over, he would have to stay out of the way, make himself invisible and maybe jump out of a window if the situation required it.

"I'm 17." He replied without thinking. Immediately he realized his mistake. The wanted posters would probably state his age together with things that they easily can recognize him on, like height, the hair and eye color. Now there were more reasons for the old man to be suspicious of him if he found one of those posters in town. Hopefully he was the type to just walk past those and leave the work to the guards like most citizens did.

"How long have you lived out here? Doesn't it get lonely to be living so far from town? It seems a bit isolated." It might not have been that far away, but the house definitely felt a bit isolated where it stood in the forest. In town one could walk out of the door and meet a friendly face immediately at the doorstep. No matter where one turned there were always people one could try and converse with. He doubted anyone would randomly pass by this little house though. Except for invited guests and maybe a few thieves.
 
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