As soon as Felix gave up hope on finding his lost purse, he and Al went back to the inn.

The only guard they could find in the market had simply shrugged and said that perhaps Felix had just dropped his purse, and there was nothing they could do about it if someone was lucky enough to find it.

Felix then thought it wise to get back to the inn when he saw the murderous expression on Al's usually good humored face.

"They should be ashamed to call themselves guards," Al told Ida and Leon when he joined them in the inn's reception hall, which also served as a dining area. He relayed the morning's happenings and the guard's reaction. "I would've loved nothing more than to bash the idiot's nose into his head."

"That wouldn't have achieved anything. Besides, it's hardly the sole responsibility of the guards. They're the bottom of the structure. The problem comes from the higher ups. The magistrate, the local lord, the governor, everyone is responsible," Ida said coolly. "Where's Felix?"

"He went up to his room."

Al leaned closer to his two companions. The three of them sat side by side at a table with their backs to the wall, their attention seemingly on their food but nothing in the room escaped their notice. "Things are really bad in this town. How did it get this far?"

"It's isolated," Ida said, "which makes it much harder to monitor regularly. The problem is that some parts of town are in good shape, while the vast majority is obviously struggling to live. The sorry sights Leon and I have seen this morning in some neighborhoods did not bode well."

Leon and Ida had taken a tour early in the morning. The only parts of town that were decent were the market street and one particular neighborhood.

Everywhere else, sickness and poverty hung in the air like thick fog. Dilapidated houses and half starved children, half dressed women with dead eyes and stooped shoulders struggling to even stand. The social discrimination was as glaring as the summer sun.

"It's rotten," Leon said, cutting a burnt part of his roasted beef with careful precision. "The rotten parts have to be cut out, otherwise it'll spread, and it won't be just one town that suffers."

Leon never thought a place like this existed in the kingdom. It only went to show how little he and people in the capital truly knew about the farthest corners of their land.

Leon scanned the room as he ate. The hall was sparsely occupied by a couple of merchants. Maids scurried around, cleaning tables for the upcoming wave of diners, no doubt.

Al popped a piece of bread in his mouth as a group of men walked into the inn. "Ah, the mystery of the local guards is finally solved."

The dozen men were all dressed in the formal attire of a town guard. A dark blue uniform with red edged sleeves and collar, golden buttons, knee-high boots and a sword strapped to the hip.

"You made sure no one knows who we are?" Leon asked. Ida and Al both nodded. "Good. Keep it that way for now."

Leon kept his head down, he didn't believe anyone would recognize him this far south. He also looked vastly different than he usually did in the capital, with his heavy beard and longer hair. But one could never be too careful. And people tended to talk when they didn't know his identity.

The guards proved no exception. They barely glanced at the three of them as they took seats in groups around the hall. Their tongues loosened easily enough.

"Hey, new guy!" One of the guards called out to Al. "Did your friend find his coin bag?"

"No," Al said with an easy smile. Leon knew his friend enough to see past the friendly facade to the calculation in his gaze. "I guess he dropped it, like you said. I take it you don't have thieves in this small town."

"Very rarely," the guard said. "People know how we run things around here."

That simple statement told Leon more than the guard would expect. In places with this much poverty, the crime rate would expectedly be quite high. The near absence of crimes meant that things were run with fists and blood. He wouldn't be surprised if guards were cutting heads for a stolen loaf of bread.

"Well, tell that to old Freddy!" another guard chimed in from the other side of the hall. "He said someone stole his purse yesterday!"

"He must have dropped it," said the guard who liked to assume no pickpockets live in this town.

"You know what I think?" another injected, banging his hand on the table. "I think that wild girl with the odd eyes is the one who keeps stirring trouble."

"You've been saying that since you laid eyes on her, man! You've no proof. And if she's stealing, she sure isn't doing much with it. She looks like a half starved bitch whenever I catch a glimpse of her."

"Who's that?" Al asked.

The guard waved his hand dismissively. "Just a girl who lives in the woods. She's got wind in her head, you know."

"She's no girl anymore. The last I saw her she was a fine piece of woman. Don't you agree, Hunter?"

For some reason, all the guards found that hilarious. Their cackles rose in the hall.

A guard with a jagged scar running from his temple across his cheek, barely missing his eye, thumped his fist down the table, making a maid who was putting a glass of ale on his table jump.

"You laugh! You try getting anywhere near her, if you call yourself a man! And we'll see what happens then. I'm telling you, she's wicked."

Leon didn't have to wonder long about whom the guards were speaking because Al's recent acquaintance explained with a twisted grin, "Hunter here tried to make Rotten Summer a woman, but that didn't work out too well for him."

"Rotten Summer?" Al raised his brow. Ida and Leon exchanged a glance, they'd heard that name before from Blue, the stable boy.

"That's what everyone calls her. Her name's Summer, but she's got rotten luck. Everyone knows it. Hunter here is a living proof of it."

Leon thought Hunter only got what he deserved, but he kept his peace. The more these guards talked, the more Leon understood the severity of the situation in this forsaken town.

"I would've arrested her-" Hunter said.

"If you could catch her."

"But the magistrate said we don't need her in the cells, they'd probably crumble to dust if she's in there."

The guards broke into multiple conversations as maids arrived with their lunch. Al's guard friend was chugging down ale like water. It was the middle of the day and they already looked half drunk.

"I haven't seen much of the magistrate," Al noted casually.

"Why would you?" the guard said, his cheeks turning red already. "He comes to town when he needs to collect."

"Collect?"

"Yeah." He burped loud and long. "People pay, we split with the magistrate, and we uphold the law. A guard's pay doesn't buy much ale, I tell you."

"Not if one drinks it like water," Ida murmured in disgust.

Leon knew she was more irritated by the men's earlier comments about the girl than anything else. Being one of the few females in the military had opened her eyes to some men's twisted views on women. She was prejudiced against all men until they proved worthy in her estimation.

"Where'd you come from, again?" the guard asked, narrowing his eyes at their heavy shirts and fur edged cloaks. "You don't look like you're from around these parts of the kingdom."

"Just across the mountain," Al said vaguely. Fortunately, a maid chose that moment to bring the guard more ale. Forgetting his question, he grinned, gaze already hazy. "Thanks, doll."

The maid winked and sashayed away.

"I'll go check on Felix." Ida stood up.

Leon hadn't missed how some gazes strayed her way more than once. She strode through the busy hall purposefully. Until Hunter, the scarred guard, grinned at her with stained teeth. "Hey, pretty thing! Won't you grace us with your company?"

Al and Leon stiffened. The men at Hunter's table snickered. Ida didn't spare him a glance as she walked past. The brainless Hunter, however, must've had horse dung for brains.

He slapped Ida's behind.

Leon and Al froze. Ida stopped and slowly turned as the tables surrounding her hooted with laughter. She stared straight at Hunter.

"Do you want to die?" she asked, her demeanor serious. The men still hadn't grasped the gravity of the situation.

Leon and Al had left their swords in their rooms to keep the guards heedless. Leon quietly slipped a knife from his boot, pulling Al down when he tried to stand. "Sit still. She'll wring both our necks if we intervene here."

"Damn it, I wanted to be the one to kick his lousy behind," Al whined, but no one could mistake the concern in his eyes.

"It's just a little friendly tap, doll," Hunter said.

Ida smiled. Oh, no. Leon and Al cringed. They both knew what was coming. "Let me return the favor."

Hunter nose made a cracking nose as Ida's fist crashed against it. Her elbow on the side of his head knocked him out. He tumbled down to the floor, a limp mass of flesh.

Stunned silence.

It lasted only a couple of seconds before the guards erupted to life. Two reached for Ida, she handled them like school children. Al jumped on the tables towards her with his blade drawn out. The rest of the guards converged towards them, swords drawn. Leon cut through the mass of bodies, careful not to inflect fatal wounds. The guards were a joke, they didn't even provide an entertaining fight. But they did have longer-reaching weapons.

Al, Leon and Ida were standing back to back when Leon decided that this was enough. "Enough!"

He drew the golden badge of Royal Guards from his pocket and held it up.

It worked like magic. All the guards stopped short, surprise and shock flickering across their faces. Some stepped back while others dropped their swords. The weapons clattered on the floor, echoing in the sudden quiet.

"A ro-royal gu-" one of the guards stuttered, then stood straight as a beam with his hands to his sides, the picture perfect soldier. Soon everyone else followed suit.

Ida brushed a cut on her cloak. "Damn it. This is my favourite cloak."

"Sew it close," Al said, sheathing his knife. Ida jabbed her elbow in his side.

Leon gave him a nod to take the lead. Leon had no patience to deal with the following.

"Alright, friends," Al clapped his hands. If possible, the guards stood straighter. "You, go get the magistrate right now. Drag him here if you have to. The rest of you will straighten this place up and sit still. Are we clear?"

The guards moved like clock work.

The magistrate arrived exactly half an hour later. Pompous and paunchy with a florid complexion, he was harder to intimidate than the guards. But all his arguments and explanations came to a halt when the words 'capital' and 'palace' were uttered. Color drained from his face, he sat limp in a chair in the dining hall.

The guards were all ordered to wait outside. By now, news of what happened had travelled all over town.

"You will remain in your residence until the investigative committee arrives," Al told the magistrate. "A missive has already been sent for them. They'll be here in a matter of days. Meanwhile, have your men act like proper guards, for goodness sake."

The magistrate nodded, his eyes haunted, and dragged his feet out of the inn.

Now that the change wheel was put in motion, it would simply be a matter of time before this town functioned as it was supposed to.

The committee would arrive in the days ahead, and Leon would be able to put the town in their capable hands. All he had to worry about now was the original mission that had led him here. The artifact that had been stolen was of utmost importance to the kingdom.

Leon didn't believe much of what was thought to be the history of the item. He did believe, however, that it had a historical and cultural value to the Springwood kingdom.

The fact that someone had broken into a well protected royal facility and stolen the artifact was enough to have him agree to his brother's suggestion that he personally go after the thieves and retrieve the stolen item.

It had been easier said than done. Their search had been futile so far. All they managed was a few leads and trails that led them here.

Leon wouldn't regret the time lost here, however. The lives of regular people were more valuable than a historical relic, and his presence here had opened his eyes on how the system could easily be broken in isolated parts of the kingdom.

***

Later in the afternoon, Leon, Ida and Al took a stroll through the market street.

The merchants were closing up. News must travel fast in such a small town, for all its citizens looked at the three outsiders with warier and more curious eyes.

The guards were finally acting like guards. They patrolled the streets in organized groups, and a few were stationed in the roads leading in and out of town.

"You know what would be nice?" Al asked.

"I'm sure you'll tell us," Ida replied.

"If we could just find the damn artifact," he said, checking out what the remaining stalls offered in passing. "It'll be perfect."

"Maybe we'll get lucky after leaving this place," Ida said.

Leon certainly hoped so. He was anxious to get back. Leaving his son again, no matter if this was his duty, was making greater the guilt with which he was living for years now.

"Right." Al scoffed. "Maybe we'll find it in one of the market stalls."

Al stopped dead in his tracks. Ida and Leon looked at him questioningly. He stared wide eyed at a stall behind them.

"The artifact...in a market stall," he mumbled, his eyes wide.

"Right, we get your point." Ida rolled her eyes. Leon sighed. Al had joked too many times for Leon and Ida to fall for his antiques.

Al pushed past them to a jewelry stall and pointed.

Leon blinked. He couldn't believe his eyes.

Right there, in the midst of cheap, used jewelry and nicknacks, lay the very thing they had been on the trail for for weeks now. The bluish metal glimmered under the bright sun rays, and the white gemstone seemed to absorb the light instead of reflecting it.

"Is that-" Ida said.

Al quickly pulled a document from his pocket. The worn sheet of paper had a detailed drawing of the artifact. But Leon had looked at it so many times he didn't need to check. He grabbed the item off the table.

"Would you like to buy, sir?" the seller rubbed his hands together, looking between the three of them. "That just came in this morning."

"Where did you get this item, sir?" Al asked.

"Where I get all my items, they're pawned," the man said, looking less eager and more uncomfortable. "If you're not interested in buying, I'd appreciate it if you put the thing down, mister."

Leon stared at the man. The pawnshop owner paled when he saw the glint in Leon's dark gaze.

"Where did you get this?" Leon asked, his low voice holding a hint of threat.

"It-it came in this morning," the merchant said. "Why? I didn't do anything illegal, I tell you. I only pawn things."

"This was stolen," Leon said. "Where did you get it?"

The seller fisted his hair. "Damn it! I knew I shouldn't have let that whore into my shop. She only brings trouble!"

"Who?"

"That damn girl, Rotten Summer! She came in this morning with it."

The seller's loud voice was attracting attention. A small crowd formed around them. Leon put the item in his pocket.

Rotten Summer once again. At this point, Leon was curious about the girl.

"Wait, you can't just take it! I paid good money for it." The pawnshop owner looked at one of the guards in the gathering crowd. "Do something!"

The guard raised his hands. "You're on your own, Billie."

"Billie," Leon said. "Why don't you come with us for a chat."