ALISTER (Tales of evolution)

Green hills

As Elian swung open the door and stepped into the bar, the dim lighting enveloped him. Neon signs cast a colorful glow on the walls, while the air was thick with the smell of beer, whiskey, and smoke. The sounds of clinking glasses, laughter, and the hum of conversation filled the background.

The patrons were a rough-looking bunch, with leather jackets, tattoos, and scars. Some looked like hardened bikers, while others resembled street thugs. They were engaged in various activities - some were drinking shots, others were playing pool, while a few were huddled around the bar, watching a game on TV.

As soon as Elian walked in, the room fell silent. All eyes turned towards him, filled with a mixture of hostility and curiosity. The patrons' gazes lingered on Elian's unfamiliar face, his clean clothes, and his refined features.

Elian, however, pretended not to notice the glares. He walked calmly to the bar, his eyes scanning the room with a mixture of caution and confidence. Taking a seat on one of the stools, he caught the bartender's attention.

"What can I get you?" the bartender growled, eyeing Elian warily.

Elian smiled politely. "I'm looking for a man, he goes by the name Iroh. Can you tell me if he's here?"

The bartender a gruff-looking man with a thick beard crossed his arms, his expression unyielding. “You want to know about Iroh? First, you gotta order a drink. That’s how we do things here.”

Elian hesitated, unsure if he wanted to play along. But his curiosity about Iroh got the better of him. “Fine. I’ll have a glass of whiskey.”

The bartender nodded, his movements swift and efficient as he poured a generous shot of amber liquid into a glass. He added a single ice cube, which clinked against the glass as he slid it down the bar to Elian.

Elian picked up the glass, his eyes locked on the bartender as he tossed back the whiskey. His expression changed from curiosity to shock as the liquid burned its way down his throat. He coughed, his eyes watering.

“Ah, good stuff, huh?” the bartender said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Elian nodded, still coughing. “Yeah…great. Now, about Iroh…”

The bartender’s expression turned serious. “You gotta pay for that drink first, friend.”

Elian reached into his back pocket and pulled out a crumpled 200-yen note. He slapped it onto the bar, saying, “Here, this should cover it.”

The bartender picked up the note, his expression skeptical. He turned it over, examining it carefully before looking up at Elian. “This isn’t Aethers,” he said, his voice firm. “We don’t take foreign currency here.”

The bartender’s face turned red with anger. “What is this, some kind of joke?” he yelled, slamming his fist on the counter. “You think you can just walk in here and pay with foreign currency? Do you know how many times I’ve had to deal with people like you, trying to scam me?”

The patrons of the bar began to take notice of the commotion, turning to stare at Elian with a mixture of curiosity and hostility.

Elian held up his hands, trying to calm the bartender down. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll try to find another way to pay.”

But the bartender was having none of it. “You should have thought of that before you came in here,” he shouted. “Now you’re just trying to waste my time. Well, let me tell you something, friend. We don’t take kindly to strangers around here. Especially not ones who try to cheat us.”

The atmospheree in the bar was growing increasingly tense, with the patrons beginning to murmur and nod in agreement with the bartender. Elian realized that he needed to defuse the situation quickly, before things got out of hand.

As the patrons rose from their seats, their faces twisted with hostility, Elian’s heart sank. He had never been in a situation like this before, and he didn’t know how to defend himself.

The patrons began to pull out an assortment of crude weapons – knives, clubs, and even a few rusty swords. They advanced on Elian, their eyes blazing with a mix of anger and curiosity.

Elian’s instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs felt rooted to the spot. He was trapped, surrounded by a gang of rough-looking men who seemed determined to teach him a lesson.

The patrons charged towards Elian, their weapons at the ready. Elian’s instincts kicked in, and he reached for his gun, only to realize it wasn’t there. Panic set in as he scrambled to defend himself.

Elian had some basic self-defense training from his detective days, and he used it to try and fend off the attackers. He dodged a swinging club and delivered a quick jab to the attacker’s face, sending him stumbling back.

However, there were too many of them, and soon Elian found himself surrounded. A knife flashed in the dim light, and Elian barely avoided the blade by twisting to the side, leaving his shoulder grazed. He grabbed the attacker’s wrist and used his momentum to slam him into the bar.

But the others kept coming, their blows raining down on Elian. He blocked a few punches, but soon his arms began to ache, and his vision started to blur. He stumbled back, desperately trying to create some space between himself and the attackers.

Just when it seemed like all was lost, a figure burst into the fray, sending patrons flying left and right.

Elian’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of his rescuer. The young man was probably in his early twenties, with silky crimson-red hair and a thick strand of black hair that ran down to his face. His athletic build was evident even under his tailored black suit. But what caught Elian’s attention were his eyes – black cortex with piercing red irises that seemed to gleam with an inner intensity.

“Good to see you, master,” the young man said, smiling, his voice low and smooth, as he caught Elian’s arm and pulled him closer.

Before Elian could respond, the young man charged into the fray, his movements a blur as he took down the patrons one by one. His fighting style was unlike anything Elian had ever seen – a fluid combination of martial arts and swordplay that left his opponents reeling.

With a swift kick, the young man sent a burly patron crashing into the bar. He followed up with a slash of his sword, the blade slicing through the air with a deadly whoosh. The patrons tried to defend themselves, but the young man was too fast, too strong.

He disarmed a patron with a swift twist of his wrist, sending the knife flying across the room. He delivered a series of rapid-fire punches to another patron’s face, sending him stumbling back. And through it all, he seemed to be enjoying himself, a fierce grin spreading across his face.

Elian watched in awe, his mind struggling to keep up with the young man’s incredible display of skill and strength. Who was this person, and what’s his relation with Elian?

As the young man continued to take down the patrons, Elian’s eyes remained fixed on him, trying to process what he was seeing. The young man’s movements were almost dance-like, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision.

Just when it seemed like the fight was over, a large patron emerged from the shadows, a cruel grin spreading across his face. He was easily the biggest man in the room, with thick, muscular arms and a chest like a barrel.

The young man didn't flinch, his eyes locked on the patron as he charged forward. The two clashed in a flurry of punches and kicks, the patron’s massive fists swinging wildly as the young man dodged and weaved around him.

For a moment, it seemed like the patron’s brute strength might overwhelm the young man. But then, in a flash of movement, the young man delivered a devastating kick to the patron’s stomach, sending him crashing to the floor.

The room fell silent, the patrons either unconscious or cowering in fear. The young man stood tall, his chest heaving with exertion, as he turned to face Elian.

“Good to see you again…Master!,” he said, his voice low and respectful. “I see you’re still getting into trouble.”

Elian’s eyes narrowed, “Master?” His mind racing with questions. “Who are you?” he demanded. “And how do you know me?”

The young man smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “My name is Tharros,” he said. “…… And I’m a Devil!”

Tharros effortlessly dispatched the patrons, his devilish powers on full display. The commotion inside the bar didn’t go unnoticed, as the crowd outside grew restless. Soon, a chorus of shouts and challenges erupted, with several brave (or foolhardy) souls stepping forward to take on Tharros and Elian.

Tharros turned to Elian, his expression a mixture of amusement and concern. “I think it’s time we departed, don’t you?” He stretched out his hand, and a shimmering purple portal materialized before them.

Elian hesitated, eyeing the portal warily. Tharros, however, was insistent. “Come, Alister. We can’t stay here. This portal will take us to a safer location… one where we can discuss our next move.”

Tharros’ persuasive words, combined with the growing chaos outside, eventually won Elian over. With a deep breath, Elian sprinted through the portal, Tharros close behind.

As they vanished into the swirling purple energies, the crowd outside was left staring at the empty space, wondering what had just happened.

…

…

…

As they emerged from the portal, Elian stumbled, his eyes adjusting to the soft, warm glow of the evening sun. The sky above was painted with hues of pink, orange, and purple, a breathtaking sunset unfolding before them.

Tharros, however, seemed entirely at ease, his gaze sweeping across the picturesque landscape of Green Hills. The air was filled with the sweet, heady scent of blooming cherry blossoms, and the soft, gentle rustle of petals in the evening breeze.

Elian’s eyes widened as he took in the serene scenery. “Where…where have you brought me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tharros smiled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Welcome to Green Hills,” he replied, his voice low and soothing.

As they walked, Elian’s gaze roamed across the rolling hills, taking in the vibrant pink cherry blossom trees, their delicate petals swaying gently in the evening breeze. The charming house nestled among the trees seemed to glow with a warm, golden light, as if inviting them to enter.

Elian’s eyes wandered to the house, noticing the intricate details of the wooden beams, the polished stone floors, and the rustic wooden furniture. The room was filled with the warm, comforting scent of baking bread and the soft, golden light of candles.

Elian’s gaze returned to Tharros, his eyes searching for answers. “Why have you brought me here?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

Tharros’ smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with a knowing light. “ Welcome home Alister,” he replied, his voice bold and excited. “You’ve kept me waiting for quite a while.”

As Tharros spoke, the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the landscape. Elian felt a sense of Dumbfounded, his mind racing with questions about this enchanting realm and what he had just heard.

What is going on?

What is Tharros’s relationship with Elian?

And who is Alister?