Chapter 7. The wooden chest

Standing in front of his house, Darth was about to take a stride, but something inexpressible inside coerced him to halt. He swiveled around, drifting his gaze to the residence where Hera lived with her family. Her face kept flickering through his mind, and he couldn't fathom why he had kept seeing her image since they had met.

Sighing heavily, Darth shook off the bizarre sensation which was consuming him. Maybe, he just needed some time to divert his concentration until he could rub out every trace of whatever weirdness was taking hold of him.

He started to walk away afterward and ceased when he saw the familiar sight of a person from a distance. His body froze upon seeing the woman holding a maple wood. His eyes were fixated on a specific spot as he took a deep breath. They stared intensely at each other.

For another time, his heartbeat accelerated, especially when he recognized who it was.

It was Hera.

Robust courage is what Darth had been carrying as he walked nonchalantly without any intent to approach her. Nevertheless, the closer he was coming, the more he seemed to stare into her very soul.

"Hey? Are you looking for me?" Hera asked suddenly, smiling as if waiting for his response with the word "yes."

"Why would I?" Darth denied it while avoiding eye contact.

"I don't know. Why are you so grumpy?" she teased him with a soft grin plastered on her face.

Hera's smile faded but never entirely disappeared as she continued staring at him.

Darth didn't articulate anything but sighed, skeptical of what he should express next until he decided to start with a simple inquiry instead. "What is that?"

"Ops, you wanna see my work?" Hera queried with excitement glimmering in her eyes.

"Isn't that what you pledge? To show me your works?" Darth inquired as he recalled her promise the first time they met. He did want to leave at that moment and not entertain her anymore, but he found himself unable to.

After a few seconds, Hera smiled and was excited to divulge it. "You're right. I pledge to show you my works." she then showed him her work. The painting of red wolgan stood beside the tree, which honestly gave him a goosebump.

"Do you still doubt my disclosure? Do you think the fire you see in me was a trick?" Darth asked her, feeling somewhat awkward under her piercing gaze that seemed to bore through his soul.

"Of course, I want to believe in you. But that's not pretty factual evidence that words can prove," Hera replied softly after thinking about it for a second. "Though I am curious how it will come out in the end. Did you seriously study how to use fire?"

Silence lingered for a moment.

Darth couldn't decipher how this woman could be impetuous in front of him, although he had unbosomed himself to her. He saved her from those greedy werewolves, but Hera seemed unbothered by the fact that their last encounter was odd, that he was not just an ordinary creature but a peculiar one.

Was the revelation inadequate in some way?

Was there any need to explain his identity when they were already evident?

He wanted her to understand the truth of his words, but the root of his eagerness was inexpressible. Instead of coercing this woman to believe his words, Darth agreed, not pushing things further. At least not today. For now, he needs to get rid of these unwanted feelings.

"Why don't you show me your fire now? And if you're truly the red wolgan, show me your true form. Can you do that?"

With a deep sigh, Darth shook his head slowly. "I don't need to show you anything. If my words weren't enough to make you believe me, then find your answers on your own."

Then before she had a chance to respond, he had already swiveled around. Without sparing another glance at her, he strode away and headed towards his direction, leaving a perplexed Hera alone.

But before he could walk far, Hera called him out. "Hey, wait! This is actually for you!"

He stopped midway through his walk and slowly curved his head back. When he faced her again, however, the lively expression on her face made him uneasy. This woman always had a high spirit, and her smile was too bright for him to handle. He hated that smile. It gave him a strange feeling, something that almost melted his heart.

"This is for you." Hera smiled and handed something over in his direction; however, the smile on her face suddenly vanished upon hearing Darth's remarks.

"Pardon me. I do not accept presents. Just take it back."

The atmosphere became bleak as to what Hera heard. She couldn't believe this man's demeanor. He rejected her gift so cruelly without hesitation.

"B-but I woke up early to paint this for you," Hera reasoned out in desperation.

"I gladly accepted your promise but never asked you to give me anything. So please, don't disturb me," Darth conveyed with the same tone, yet Hera felt his words sting her heart. It seemed that his response was meant to be harsh, but it felt more disappointed than angry. Hera didn't bother to push herself further.

In contrast, Darth resumed walking away again, with an inexplicable ache piercing inside him. Saying such rude wasn't his intention at all. However, he had to. There was no reason that Hera could have much effect on him. The fact that she was a stranger was enough to make it easy for him to evade her. Unfortunately, it was difficult because of the sentiments he felt whenever they crossed paths.

PLUMA was located northwest of the City of Renenxia. It is what they called Art Residence, where all the painters worked together as one group. The place had a reputation for having the best artists in the City. Some lived nearby, while others came from a far distance to attend their practices. However, they had different styles of painting depending on their forte.

It has been five years since Greco Berio, the Prime Minister in the City of Renenxia, established Pluma. This was developed to offer endless opportunities to those painters to showcase their art skills while earning money.

Aside from earning, painting has been Hera's passion ever since she was young. Currently, she was occupied painting a portrait of a wolgan, the black wolgan, but she abruptly stopped when she heard footsteps near her location. She knew this sound and instantly looked up. Upon seeing Scarlett, her face brightened as a smile twitched at the corner of her lips.

Setting aside the paintbrush, she approached her with the same joyful expression. "Scarlett, I thought you weren't coming today?"

"Well, I changed my plans," Scarlett stated matter-of-factly before extending her hand to give her a wooden chest. "I bought this for you."

Without reluctance, Hera grabbed the box and opened it eagerly, and she was delighted to see a complete setup of dry powder pigments, linseed oil, and inkwell.

There are also two types of brushes, the bleached hog bristle brushes and the red sable.

"Hey! Thank you for this, Scarlett!" Hera stated with a cheery voice. As soon as she put down the box, she hugged Scarlett, who smiled widely at glimpsing her reaction. "

"As I promised you."

The two agreed to leave the Pluma, and Hera was determined to finish her work tomorrow and just spend this day with her friend.

"How's your training?" Hera inquired as they walked on a mosaic carpet-covered floor.

"It's always fantastic; you know that."

"That's good! I'm pretty sure you're going to be amazing one day," Hera spoke earnestly.

"Thanks. Maybe one day, I'll show you what I can accomplish." Scarlett winked playfully as the other girls passed them with smiles on their faces, admiring each piece of painting that caught their eyes. "You too, Hera! Your artwork will be the most famous artist in the City."

"Really? What makes you think that?"

"Because you're amazing. I admire your creativity! Everyone does, you know that."

Hearing those words from her friend always warmed her heart, and being praised by someone she truly cared about was beyond the galaxy.

The two reached the exit, and someone grabbed their interest which compelled them to halt.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you, but can I borrow your time, Hera?" the woman wearing a red linen kirtle named Margaret asked with a warm smile.

"Certainly. May I know what I can do for you, Mrs. Margaret?" she asked politely.

"I've come to call your attention. Sorry for barging in."

Uncertainty, she nodded and followed Margaret into a private room behind the large painting while Scarlett agreed to wait for her outside.

"Someone wants to exhibit all of your works and promote them to the City. And this is a luxury chance, Hera!" Margaret announced. "Numerous people are looking forward to it. You know, for several weeks now, the City has seen an upsurge in visitor numbers. Not only from all corners of the City but from the neighboring towns as well."

"That's great news indeed, Mrs. Margaret!"

"And someone from an affluent family wants to discuss this matter with you."

Hera's mouth fell open as she was curious about who it was. "Could you lead me to whoever it is?"

"Follow me. He's waiting for you outside."

And with that, Hera followed Margaret through the door. There were many people outside, but only one person caught her interest.

She could see the tall man standing there, waiting for her patiently. He appeared to be wearing a black steampunk frock coat decorated with tiny silver embroidery; he had a bouquet in his hand. He also had dark hair, and it was evident in his features that he came from an affluent family; his face was smooth and handsome, but his aura gave off annoying vibes to her.

Her heartbeat quickened as she got closer to him, especially when she recognized that this was the man she'd been trying to avoid.