Knights of Mischief

Rainy afternoon.

Dark grey clouds loomed over the Limelight city, casting an eerie shadow across the entire city. As the shadow reach one of the cities many towers, it alerted a nearby guard stationed in the area, drawing his attention to the approaching storm.

The guard, dressed in leather armor carved with the emblem of Limelight City Guard, tilted his head up to watch the dark grey clouds looming overhead. A light sprinkle of water brushed against his face, and he instantly realized that the rain was imminent.

Without hesitation, he stepped into the tower and emerged moments later with a large, slim drum in hand. Walking to the edge of the wall overlooking 17th Street in Limelight City, he raised the drum high and began striking it rhythmically with his hand.

Dumm Dumm Dumm Dumm

The sound of the drum spurred the townsfolk into action, their pace quickening as they prepared for the coming rain. But just moments after the drum rang out, A sudden torrent of heavy rain unleashed its fury upon the crowd, sending people scrambling even faster to find shelter in nearby buildings.

Merchants hurriedly pushed their stalls closer to the walls and alleyways, desperately trying to shield their goods from the relentless downpour. Others gathered their belongings, muttering about the unexpected storm.

The once-bustling road now a laid open and clear, free of any obstacles.

Amidst the chaos, a lone hooded figure dashed urgently through the rain, drawing curious glances from onlookers.

The figure pressed onward, moving down the empty road where none dared to stay, braving the relentless deluge of rain. With every step, the rain-soaked robe grew heavier, its weight dragging them down as it absorbed more and more water.

Eventually, their steps faltered, slowing until they stopped altogether, their chest heaving with effort.

Huff Huff Huff Huff

The effect of drawing air made harder by the suffocating wetness of their robe and skin.

With a weary motion, they brought their hands to their face, attempting to block out the rain and steady their breathing. Through the gaps in their fingers, green eyes gleamed, unwavering locked on the far-off goal that beckoned them forward.

The figure kept their resolve firm and continued pushing onward.

The figure darting through the rain was Catherine Anne Gustmill. She had tried to return home as quickly as possible upon seeing the telltale signs of an approaching storm.

However, the crowded streets slowed her progress, and she failed to reach home before the rain began to fall. By then, she was already very late.

Catherine had just completed a commission order for a client and need to deliver the goods near the town gate and meet their agent to finalize the transaction. The distance between her house and the town gate was quite significant, requiring her to rent a wooden cart to transport the goods. To do so, she needed to leave the house early in the morning, before the markets opened and the street became crowded, to avoid causing unnecessary logjams.

Catherine lived on the 17th Street, one of the few largest commercial districts in Limelight City. Located in the cities left wing and within the protection of the First Wall, the street was originally planned as a residential area.

However, as the cities population grew, a Second Wall was built, and most residential homes were relocated beyond the First Wall. Over time, 17th Street was transformed into a bustling commercial district, driven by the demands of merchants and nobles alike.

This shift was prompted by the opening of a new trade route from the north, near the city left wing wall. As a result, a new gate was built in the Second Wall, creating a third entrance to Limelight City and significantly increasing the influx of people coming in and out of the city.

Built along a long road that connected both the cities gate and the city warehouse, 17th Street saw a constant fluctuation of people.

According to Limelight City law, resident was barred from residing or constructing a house on plots designated solely for commercial use, except perhaps for tavern or Inn.

However, since much of the lots is owned by the middle-class residents, evicting them would risk igniting tensions with the common people and the city's nobility. To mitigate this, a compromise was reached. Residents now operate businesses on their properties to maintain residency rights. This regulation, combined with the heavy flood traffic, made 17th Street a unique and vibrant area of the city.

As Light of Sheen grows so bright, so does its peril might.

Trouble child

Catherine left her only child, Kimmi, alone in the house, which caused her to deeply worry. She had never once left her daughter alone without supervision, but after the passing of her husband, Catherine had to manage all the goods shipment that her husband once handled.

She hoped to hire a housekeeper for her daughter weeks before the day she had to leave the house. However, she couldn't find anyone willing to care of her daughter.

Rumours about her child being difficult may have caused potential candidates to stay away.

Desperate, she even considered asking neighbours for help, but their sympathetic glances suggested they had already heard the whispers and were reluctant to get involved.

As Catherine mind ponder on how to solve her predicament, an unfamiliar person calling her by her nickname.

"Cane! Is that you?" The voice was rough, with a slight distortion.

Catherine slowed her pace when she heard her name called. She turned her head toward the direction of the voice and realized it was someone she knew.

The person was a dwarf—short, yet heavy and strong. His hands bore multiple scars, not from battle, but from working the hazardous forge he owned. He wore a metal faceplate with black mirror like crystal on it eyes socket, and in his hand was a hammer as large as his head, paired with simple blacksmith attire.

He stood before a towering, wide metal door that led into a peculiar two-story building. A huge, smoke-belching chimney loomed over the roof. Clinging to the sides of the building were an array of haphazardly connected metal pipes, snaking their way from the upper walls down to the earth below. The first floor was an open smithy, with an unusual abundance of big and small windows, setting it apart from the surrounding building.

Inside, the forge was in disarray—a thick, black cloud of smoke swirled and built up, deterring passersby and forcing onlookers to keep their distance, fearful that building might erupt at any moment.

Catherine watched the building in smoke billowing out from the building, wondering if the person in front of her had even noticed yet.

"Why are you in such a rush?" the dwarf asked, noticing Catherine dash down the middle of the road in the midst of the storm.

"Didn't you see it raining out there?" the man sighed. "Is the madness finally catching up with you too?" He joked with a hearty laugh.

As Catherine heard the man joke, her face turned awkward, as if it felt personal to her.

"Mr. Goran, I must return home at once… My daughter—" Before she could finish, the man cut her off with a hearty chuckle.

"Ah, don't bother! Come here, I've got something for you!" The dwarf flipped up his faceplate, revealing an elderly man with a rough beard shadowing his face.

He led her into his workshop, which was filled with think smoke reaching all the way to the ceiling. Two workers, likely apprentices, coughing and waving makeshift fans, desperately trying to drive the smoke out through narrow windows.

The source of the smoke was clear. Rainwater had found its way into the chimney, hissing and spitting as it clashed with the roaring flames of the furnace, sending up plumes of acrid smoke.

Unfazed by the scene, the dwarf rummaged through his cluttered workbench. With deft hands, he grabbed a small rope line and a handful of nails, tying them together as though nothing around him was amiss.

"Here are the nails you asked for," the dwarf said. "Now, why the rush? With this heavy rain, you could slip and fall," he added, his concern shown.

"Thank you, Mr Goran…" Catherine said gracefully, accepting the nails, tucking them into the pocket of her damp robe. She hesitated for a moment before continuing, her voice soft but weary. "I must confess… I left my daughter at home. Alone."

A faint, apologetic smile graced her lips, though her eyes betrayed a hint of unease.

Goran expression turned serious, his eyes narrowing. "Are you telling me you left your troublesome daughter alone?!" His voice raised, clearly concerned.

Catherine winced at his tone, but before she could respond, Goran continued, crossing his arms. "Do you have any idea how much trouble that child could get into? Your house might be on fire right now!"

Catherine winced, drawing a steady breath to compose herself. "I understand, Mr. Goran…," her tone measured yet laced with weariness. Pressing her finger lightly to her temple, she added. "But—Kimmi… She's showing progress." She firmly believes her daughter would not cause any trouble at home.

"Progress?" Goran raised an eyebrow. Clearly puzzled "What do you mean by that?"

"We had a conversation!" Catherine tone become more animated, her voice carrying an elegant enthusiasm. "We had a proper conversation! She finally opened up to me!"

Goran furrowed his brow, perplexed as he listened to Catherine speak about her daughter. As far as he recalled, Kimmi had never struggled to converse with him—perhaps with others, but certainly not with him.

The little girl he remembered, though often prone to mischief if left unwatched, possessed a remarkable focus when something piqued her interest. She would immerse herself for hours, driven by an insatiable curiosity. To Goran, this relentless pursuit of understanding was not mere childish behaviour but a hallmark of a hardworking and determined spirit.

Goran scratched his beard, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "Oh? I talked to your daughter for an entire day once," He reminiscing, thinking about the little girl who watching him work and listened to his teaching for hours on end without batting an eye.

"No! It's different this time!" Catherine insisted, her voice rising just a bit.

Catherine had never once seen her daughter Kimmi as a very talkative child, even when she was still a baby. Kimmi always stayed quiet, often doing her own thing, sometimes dangerously, which was why she required the utmost attention.

Whenever Catherine tried to engage her in conversation, Kimmi eyes would darting away, her attention fleeting as though she couldn't bear to be present. It was as though her daughter was locked in a space that Catherine couldn't reach.

But after her husband passed, something changes. For the first time in Catherine life, she saw Kimmi show emotion—a fragile, heartbreaking glimpse of something real, something raw. It was the first sign that her daughter was still there, reaching for her.

"Hah! No matter, you should bring your daughter back here—she could be a fine blacksmith one day," Goran mused, remembering the little girl hammering iron ore for hours without stopping. "Not like these two so-called apprentices of mine…" He gestured to the two teen boys who were now arguing about smoke in the workshop.

Catherine grinned at the sight of them and then turned serious. "I really should be heading off now, Mr. Goran."

"Right, right…" Goran waved her off. "Go! Go! Just don't start running off in a rainstorm. We don't want your daughter to be the least of your worries!"

Catherine chuckled and nodded, making her way quickly out the door. As soon as she hit the road, she rushed straight down the middle, pushing forward with determination as she sprinted toward home.

Goran stared after her, shaking his head in disbelief. "That stubborn woman! What did I say about running in the rain?" He shouted after her, exasperated. "And she actually dares to ignore me!"

As time passes, so does the rain, leaving behind a peaceful refrain.

Deep Slumber

Catherine finally arrived at the Weaving Twig and Sculpt Store, a quaint shop offering various non-essential wooden tools and trinkets. It also served as a home for her daughter, Kimmi. The house was a modest structure with two floors and a basement.

The ground floor functioned as the shop, the first floor served as their living quarters, and the basement was used for additional storage. All levels were connected by a single staircase, except for the basement, which could only be accessed through a cellar door beneath the stairs.

Drenched from the rain, Catherine stepped inside and immediately scanned the room for her daughter. Her eyes instinctively landed on the small stool near the entrance—a favourite spot where Kimmi would sit and watch the comings and goings of customers.

Finding it empty, Catherine sighed and hung her soaked robe over the back of the stool, her gaze drifting uneasily around the shop before settling on the staircase.

Each step she took left a muddy footprint on the floor. The unnerving silence of the house, combined with its uncharacteristic tidiness, sent a pang of worry through her. Could Kimmi be playing in the storage room? The thought quickened her pulse. She glanced at the cellar door beneath the stairs—it was still locked and shut tightly, a small relief.

Knowing her daughter mischievous tendencies, Catherine had half-expected to find the ground floor in disarray.

Kimmi had a habit of sneaking items from the shop to her room upstairs and leaving other things scattered on the floor whenever she lost interest in them.

However, as she grew older, her interests had shifted to quietly observing people from her small stool by the entrance. Catherine could not help but smile faintly at the memory, but her concern remained. Where could Kimmi be?

Tap- Tap- Tap-

Catherine ascended to the first floor. As she moved through the quiet hallway, the clattering of rain against the windows created a soothing, calming noise in the background. Her eyes swept over the corridor leading to Kimmi room, noticing that most of the doors were half-closed, except for the door to her workshop.

Approaching the workshop door, she grasped the doorknob and gave it a firm twist, relieved to find it still locked. With a small sigh, she continued checking each door until she finally reached her daughter room.

As she hummed softly, Catherine strolled towards her daughter room, hoping that her child would hear her coming. But realizing that she received no response, she continues approaching the door, now hoping to surprise her daughter.

Pushing the door gently, she expected to find scattered toys, or her daughter engrossed in one of her handmade figurines she had made just for her. Instead, she was startled to see her daughter lying on the floor beside a chair.

The window was wide open, allowing the cold, damp breeze to filter into the room. Raindrops occasionally splashed through the window, sprinkling her unaware daughter below.

Her heart pounded fast as she feared the worst. Catherine rushed forward, her mind racing, only to breathe a sigh of relief when she realized her daughter was peacefully asleep.

Catherine swiftly closed the window. She then turned to her daughter, voice trembling with concern as she gently whispered, "Kimmi, dear, wake up."

Kimmi curled her body, her voice groggy with sleep. "Cane you back?"

Catherine annoyed when she heard her daughter used her nicknames. "What are you doing sleeping of the floor, dear? Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, I was just…. well…. bored," Kimmi murmured.

Catherine eyes softened as she took in the sight before her. "Let's get you up into bed, okey? Come on, let's get you comfy," Catherine said gently, helping Kimmi to her feet.

Kimmi leaning on her mother as they walked over to the bed.

Catherine tucked Kimmi in, softly caressing her hair. "Sleep tight, dear. Tomorrow, we're going to the park!" she whispered, kissing her forehead before quietly leaving the room, her worries finally eased.

Next morning

Kimmi daily life in her new frontier was unbearably dull. She struggled to adapt to a life devoid of entertainment. The only thing that captivated her now was watching her mother skilfully carve a wooden block with incredible precision. Sometimes, Kimmi would eagerly report every minuscule detail that happened around her, like the mysterious loud thump that echoed through the house ceiling that occurred from time to time.

Thump- Thump- Thump-

Kimmi tiptoed into her mother workshop, a habit of hers whenever she wanted to avoid the creaks of the floorboards. As she entered, she continued tiptoeing, now carefully stepping around dust and scattered planks of wood on the floor. The light in the room in dim, and the air was hazy, filled with dust particles floating in the stagnant air, as the window remained closed.

Kimmi navigated her way around the blunt and pointy objects scattered across the floor before reaching the window and opening it. As fresh air filled the workshop, the room seemed to come alive, and Kimmi was finally able to see more clearly.

Her eyes wandered around, mesmerized by the number of tools and machinery inside the workshop. She could instantly understand how each tool and machine worked, simply by observing their inner mechanisms.

Kimmi continued exploring until she found Catherine. Her eyes lit up at the sight of her mother, who was meticulously carving at the table. She dragged a chair beside her mother, wiped it clean from the dust, and then sat down, her curious eyes gleaming as she watched mother graceful movement, carving the wooden sculpture.

Thump- Thump- Thump- Thump-

Kimmi glanced up at the ceiling, her eyes wide curiosity, her voice full of mischief. "Cane, did you hear that thump on the ceiling again?

Catherine paused her carving, a delicate frown forming on her brow as she shifted her attention to her daughter. "Kimmi, my dear, it's Mother, not Cane. And yes, I did hear it." She sighed, the weight of the situation pressing on her mind. "It seems to be happening more and more often, doesn't it?" Her tone was calm, but the slight furrow of her brow betrayed her thoughts.

Kimmi shrugged nonchalantly, her finger idly tracing the edge of the table as she leaned closer. "Maybe it's something in town causing it…"

Catherine raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a knowing smile, as she watched Kimmi fixed on her hand as she skilfully shaped the wood.

"Uhh… Mom, what are you making today?" Kimmi asked, pointing to the shape of the carved wood.

As she takes a closer look, she realizes that her mother is carving a small, sharp, pointy piece of wood reminiscent of a knife

"Mom, is that a knife?" Kimmi asking her mother.

Catherine smiled warmly at her daughter curiosity. "Very perceptive, Kimmi. Yes and no." She watches her daughter warmly and corrected her. "It's a Strife, one of the Ranger throwing weapons" she felt a surge of pride as she finished carving the wooden weapon. "Here, takes this," she said, handing the wooden Strife to her daughter.

Kimmi took the wooden knife and twirled it in her hands before tossing it into the air, catching it neatly as it fell.

"Mom… I don't think it's a good idea to give me a weapon," she said hesitantly, her expression clouded with concern. "What if I hurt someone?" The thought of losing control to the urges lingered uneasily in her mind.

Catherine eyes softened, shaking her head at her daughter worried face. "Oh, Kimmi," she said, her voice warm and reassuring, "You won't harm anyone, I'm sure of that." She added with a slight smile, trying to ease her daughter tension. "Think of how much fun it will be to show it to your friends."

Kimmi paused, her small finger stilling in her lap. The word 'friends' echoed in her mind, she shifted uneasily in her seat, glancing at her mother with mixture of confusion and doubt.

"Mom… do I even have a friend?" she asked quietly, her voice soft but laced with underlying curiosity, as though she were unsure whether the word truly had meaning for her.

Kimmi had spent days and weeks within confined to the house, never seeing anyone outside save for the occasional uncle—people she did not know well enough to even consider as a friend.

Catherine was taken aback, momentarily lost for words. Kimmi, her precious daughter, had rarely left the house due to her mysterious behaviour. Catherine remembered that her child never acted like any normal children, she had a tendency to cause harm to herself or those around her. Even the doctor had declared that Kimmi suffered from some kind of developmental disorder. Though Catherine never fully grasped the meaning, she raised her child all the same.

Catherine quickly regained her composure, her lips curving into a warm, practiced smile. "Why, of course you do, my dear," she said with a light, melodic laugh, though the faintest trace of unease flickered in her eyes. "Ha-ha, How could you think otherwise?" She glanced away for a moment, as though pondering something, before returning her gaze to Kimmi with renewed grace.

Kimmi narrowed her eyes, watching her mother intently. The forced laugh and shifty glance spoke volumes. Despite her mother reassurance, Kimmi could sense the truth. She knew she did not have any friends.

'Another secret?' Kimmi thought. The idea of a child without a friend intrigued her, especially because she herself believed she had extremely playful traits. It baffled her that she could lack any friends.

Perhaps her overprotective parents shielded her from the world and limited her social interactions or perhaps she was a menace to the children around her, with an overbearing behaviour that made it hard for others to connect with her.

Catherine tried to reassure her daughter. "Didn't I promise we'd go to the park today? You can find all your friends there," she said with a smile. "I mean, last time, you had so much fun that you didn't even want to go home, remember?" Catherine fondly recalled their previous visit to the park with her daughter.

Even though Kimmi does not have any memories of the so-called friend that her mother talking about, but she wished to learn more about herself through this friend of her.

Nevertheless, venturing outside the house still brings concerns for her.

She knew very little about the world outside the house, and information was crucial tool for her survival. Venturing into an unfamiliar area without sufficient information is a dangerous proposition.

Kimmi tried talking to her mother, Catherine, about the house and its surroundings without raising suspicion. Fortunately, she managed to gather useful bits of information that could help her make decisions if she faced any difficulties.

"Kimmi, what's wrong, dear?" Catherine voice was tinged with concern as she looked deeply into her daughter distant gaze. She felt worried that her daughter might not be feeling well.

"Huh? Ahh!," Kimmi exclaimed, suddenly realizing her mistake. Without missing a beat, she switched into cheerful demeanour to dispel her mother worries. "I can't wait any longer, Mom. Let's go! Now!" Kimmi rushed her mother to move faster. Kimmi extended her hand to help her mother stand up from her chair and then started to push her out of the workshop.

Catherine lets her daughter take a lead, and they left the workshop, heading down the hallway and gathering their belongings and preparing to venture out to the park.

From midday blazing bright, to afternoon softly light.

Moment later

Just as Catherine was about to step out of the house, she caught sight of Kimmi standing stiff as a post, her gaze locked on the main entrance door. The girl tiny fists were clenched so tightly, like she's worried about something.

"What's troubling you, Kimmi?" Catherine asked gently, sensing her daughter unease.

Kimmi hesitated, her eyes darting from the door to her mother, then back again. "Oh, um, it's nothing, mom," she mumbled with a strained smile, though the way she shuffled her feet said otherwise.

Kimmi glanced down at her outfit—a bright red with flowery patterns that looked more like a jumpsuit than a dress. Leather patches adorned her knees and elbows, making her look less like a child and more like a miniature construction worker. The outfit was so durable, it was clearly designed for hard labour, not hopscotch.

Her shoes were made entirely from wood with fabric laces and padded inside, the perfect hybrid of her mother practicality and dubious comfort. To top it all off, she wore think cotton gloves that stretched up to her elbows, the kind only a particularly dedicated gardener.

Kimmi felt like her mother Catherine trying to make her battle ready.

Catherine frowned slightly, concerned by Kimmi sudden hesitation. Concerned, She moved closer, placing a reassuring hand on her daughter shoulder. "I Know you're lying to me, dear. so, tell me," She smirk playfully at her daughter.

Kimmi was dumbfounded. 'Was she being threaten by her own mother?' she wondered. The uneasy feeling persisted, fuelled by the menacing smirk she had just seen, which only grew more terrifying the longer she looked at her. Knowing she still could not trust her mother only deepened Kimmi sense of unease and mistrust.

Despite Catherine caring gestures, Kimmi couldn't ignore the persistent doubt about her mother mysterious side, a side she felt wary of.

Catherine Anne Gustmill was someone who gave off a dangerous aura. To everyone around her, she radiated a cheerful and engaging vibe. However, when she was alone, her presence turns into silent, cold, and even unsettling.

Kimmi took a deep breath, steeling herself. "I…. I'm not sure about going outside," she admitted finally, her voice wavering slightly as a nervous laugh escaped her lips. "I mean, what if I get snatch by a squirrel or something?" she added with a chuckle, trying to make light of hear worries.

Catherine face lit up with a smile as she looked at her daughter. She found it cute and funny how Kimmi was actually afraid of something of something not to be troubled by. Walking towards the main entrance, Catherine opened the door and scanned the area for any animals, beasts, or critters that might be lurking nearby.

The street and market looked peaceful, with only a few pedestrians passing by the house. "See, my dear, there is nothing to fear," she said reassuringly, stepping outside the door to show her daughter that it was safe.

Kimmi stood in awe, watching and looking over the street scenery from the safety of her house without stepping outside. She felt a mixture of curiosity and hesitation as she observed the world beyond her familiar boundaries.

Suddenly, Catherine turned back, her smile widening. She grabs and hugged Kimmi tightly, lifting her off the ground and carrying her outside. Kimmi heart raced as her mother put her down gently on the street. "There, now you're really outside," Catherine said with a warm laugh, holding her hand firmly to reassure her.

Momentarily, Kimmi felt like her world was about to end just as she landed on the ground. She trembled as if the ground around her was about to collapse, feeling overwhelmed by the stress. Kimmi fell to one knee, struggling to regain her composure.

Catherine gently lifted Kimmi up, her hands supporting her daughter waist, and then carefully set her down on her feet.

"Oh dear, are you okay?" she asked worriedly, helping Kimmi to stand and gently brushing the dirt off her knee.

As Kimmi stood, she looked around and realized something crucial. "Oh wow, my world just got bigger," she mumbled, mesmerized by her surroundings. She glanced up at her mother, noticing the concern in her eyes.

Catherine smiled gently and said, "You scared me there for a moment. Now, let's get going, or we'll be late."

After ensuring the house was secure and lock tight, Catherine clasped Kimmi hand with a comforting grip, and together they embarked on their walk, stepping onto the bustling street.

Kimmi eyes widened with wonder. The long, straight road stretched out before them, flanked by lively market stalls, shops and buildings. The vendors proudly displayed their goods for eyes to see and the air was filled with a mixture of aromas, from the sweet scent of fruit and freshly baked bread to the savory spices wafting from a nearby food stand.

The building lining the long, straight road all shared a similar construction and design, with their timber-framed facades and sturdy stone bases. Each building rose to two floors and the street stretched towards the city's imposing gate.

Kimmi notice person walking on a small narrow pathway connecting the rooftops, just wide enough for a person to walk through. The elevated walkway offered a strategic vantage point over the entire street below, adding a sense of security as watchful eyes monitored the district. Perhaps, the person she just seen was a guard on duty, stationed to oversee the street below.

Catherine looked down at her daughter, her eyes softening with pride. "See, isn't this exciting?" she said.

Kimmi nodded, her initial fear gradually fading away as it was replaced with curiosity and excitement.

As they continue their walk the lively sights and sounds of the bustling market enveloped them. She placed her free hand on her chest, noticing her heartbeat racing, knowing the familiar urge that could stir anytime to cause her problems.

With one last glance back at her mother, Kimmi steadied herself, ready to embark on a new journey brimming with wonder and possibility.