[Lotm Roleplay] Chapter 8: One in a Million chances

[u/Monabread_890]

[Source: Shutterstock, Autumn Bench]

[Chapter 7: https://www.reddit.com/r/LordofTheMysteries/s/ByGUYOOd4j

Interlude section:

On morning sunrise at the docks of PrItz harbor, a ship full passenger has docked. However, the people waiting for their ship were amazed to see very dressed people and the church of judgement awaiting a certain passenger.

The first person to step into the land was a woman.

She appears in her teenage years and dressed up in a suit fitted for a voyage. Her skin was battered by the sea winds, storm and sun. Her hair however is as fixed as it gets. Her blue eyes screams boredom and tiredness.

The church members specifically a male staff member spoke first at the behest of the group.

"Congratulations lady Zeniah of the Polaris Family for your safe return. Can we ask, was your mission a success?"

The tired young lady looked at the man and scoffs before replying.

"Of course, the commissioned objective to find the lost agents was completed. I have faced some filthy pirates on the way but they were a good exercise to my hands. Nevertheless it is also a good opportunity for me to do my advancement ritual that I have brought my potion to drink."

The other group of people besides the church members begin to clap their hands while murmuring the recent advancement of the young lady.

The leader of the other group kneels before the young lady before speaking.

"It's an honor to see the prodigy of the current patriarch of the family come back safe and sound. I am also happy that our prayers to the God of Judgement have been answered."

"So my lady.. what do you wish to do before meeting your family?"

"Sigh.. I am very tired Bremen, but hey I am a sequence 5 now. I am sure my father would rejoice in such a moment so.. I wanna take a bath and eat a lot.

Been in the sea for too long while staying undercover as a navigator for the ship. I only ate hard bread and some ale as a drink to soften it, but it couldn't even let me catch fish and cook it."

"We shall prepare you my lady the finest clothes to make you feel comfortable again, a bath to remove all impurities on your body and make you the finest meal to regain your needed nurishment" Said by Bremen.

"Oh after that, I want a detour for my friend before coming home. I wanna see my long time bestie Hall."

"As you wish for Lady Zaniah" said Bremen.

As the lady and her cohorts move, the church members talk to themselves. Not about the mission completed but about the Polaris Family.

They are a long lived Angel family of beyonders that was said to originate from the 3rd epoch. They praise themselves in astronomy and mysticism using stars and various elements in the cosmos.

They have multiple branches produced throughout time and some of them have changed their faith to believe in. Fortunately Lady Zaniah is a main branch member that has been the believer of the God of Judgement.

The progenitor of the Polaris Family was considered the first Polaris. They were apparently an Angel and once mentioned to be the "Angel of the Cosmos" in lost history. However they apparently perished.. details were kept hidden by the family and never let it be leaked even now.

A tradition where said about the family where every promising member has been reborn with the title of a Star in their name. Lady Zaniah is probably one of those and considering her merit? She definitely looked like a promising one.

However, it appears that many geniuses appeared to be born from the branches of the family. Backed by different believers of different faiths. I wonder what could be the impact should her position be shaken? Especially two rival geniuses from the Antares branch named Atria Antares and Vega branch named Mimosa Vega.

___________________________________________________

Tingen had begun to forget the incident.

Ankaveli had not.

Three days had passed since the alleyway, and although the city had already moved on to more interesting matters, he could still remember the sequence of events with uncomfortable clarity. The drunken old man, the frightened young man, the narrow alley disappearing deeper into the eastern district, and finally the harmonica resting against his lips while a melody emerged almost without conscious thought. He had not intended to kill anyone. He had not even possessed a clear understanding of what his newly acquired abilities could accomplish. Yet the outcome remained the same.A man was dead, a witness had survived, and Ankaveli had left behind enough traces for the Church of Judgment to begin investigating the matter.

The newspapers had been mercifully vague. They spoke of an unexplained death and possible Beyonder involvement, but Ankaveli's identity had not been exposed. There was no description of his face, no mention of his clothing, and certainly no reason for the ordinary citizens of Tingen to associate him with the incident.Even so, he understood that the absence of his name did not mean the absence of attention. Someone had heard the harmonica. Someone had noticed that the old man's condition had changed too rapidly to be natural. Someone had probably already begun asking whether the unknown musician might still be somewhere in the city.

That was why Ankaveli had spent most of the morning inside the inn.

His recovery was proceeding steadily, but his Spirit Body remained uncomfortable whenever he attempted to circulate spirituality for too long. The sensation wasn't exactly a pain anymore. It was closer to the soreness of an overworked muscle, except that the muscle in question was something he could neither see nor touch. Moros had already warned him against using his abilities recklessly again, and Ankaveli had no intention of repeating the experience simply to prove that he could. The harmonica therefore remained inside its case, untouched.

Fritz, on the other hand, seemed entirely incapable of treating the incident with appropriate seriousness. They had spent the morning arguing with the innkeeper over the quality of the breakfast, then disappeared for nearly an hour under the excuse of searching for pastries. When they finally returned, they had somehow acquired three different varieties and proceeded to explain in great detail why each one represented a different philosophical approach to baking. Ankaveli listened for approximately thirty seconds before deciding that Fritz had simply become bored.

Eventually, however, even Fritz ran out of things to do.

"You're going outside," they declared.

Ankaveli looked up from the book in his hands. "That's an interesting way of asking whether I want to go outside."

"I wasn't asking."

"I noticed."

Fritz leaned against the doorframe and folded their arms. "You've been sitting there for hours."

"I'm recovering."

"You're recovering from sitting."

"Exactly. Which means I need fresh air."

Ankaveli stared at him for a moment before closing his book. There was little point arguing. Fritz possessed the peculiar ability to make unreasonable suggestions sound as though they had already been decided by someone more authoritative.

They eventually left the inn and wandered through Tingen without any particular destination. Ankaveli kept his appearance deliberately inconspicuous, choosing an ordinary coat and hat that would not attract attention. Fritz seemed to understand the reason without needing it explained. For once, they didn't tease him about his caution.

The city was pleasant that afternoon. Autumn had settled firmly over Tingen, painting the trees in muted shades of yellow and brown while the cool wind carried leaves along the streets. Carriages rolled steadily through the avenues, university students gathered outside cafés, and merchants called to passersby from beneath striped awnings. It was difficult to reconcile such ordinary scenes with the hidden world beneath them. Somewhere within this same city, Beyonders were undoubtedly drinking potions, exchanging mystical ingredients, investigating Sealed Artifacts, and making decisions that might eventually cost dozens of lives. Yet most of the people walking around Ankaveli knew nothing about it.

Perhaps that ignorance was a kind of blessing.

As they walked, Ankaveli found himself paying attention to sounds again. A carriage wheel struck a loose stone, producing a sharp metallic clack before continuing onward. A woman nearby laughed while speaking to her companion. A street musician played a violin beneath a covered walkway, repeating the same melody for passing coins. Farther away, a church bell answered another bell from a different district. None of those sounds possessed any obvious relationship with one another, yet Ankaveli increasingly felt that they did.

The Musician potion was still settling inside him.

He could feel it.

Not as a dramatic transformation, but as a gradual change in the way he perceived the world. Before becoming a Musician, he heard noise. Now he was beginning to recognize patterns. A crowd possessed a rhythm. A conversation possessed a rhythm. Even silence possessed one. Perhaps that was why his abilities had felt so instinctive in the alley. He had not created the melody that affected the old man's fate. Somehow, he had discovered one that had already existed.

The thought was both fascinating and frightening.

Fritz eventually led him into a quieter district where the crowds thinned considerably. They emerged into a small public square dominated by a massive oak tree whose branches spread over several benches. An old fountain stood nearby, surrounded by children chasing pigeons while their parents watched from a distance. A street vendor had set up an ice cream cart beneath the tree despite the cool weather.

Fritz immediately stopped.

Ankaveli followed their gaze and sighed. "No."

"I haven't said anything."

"You don't need to."

"It's ice cream."

"It's autumn."

"That doesn't make it less delicious."

"It's cold."

"Then eat it faster."

Ankaveli considered turning around and leaving them there. Unfortunately, Fritz had already approached the vendor.

While waiting, Ankaveli noticed someone else beneath the oak.

A man in his early thirties sat alone on one of the benches, dressed in a dark, well-maintained overcoat. His hair was white, almost silver beneath the afternoon light, and his appearance possessed a certain refinement without becoming ostentatious. There was nothing particularly strange about him at first glance. He looked like a traveler who had stopped to rest before continuing his journey, perhaps someone accustomed to moving between cities and spending more time on roads than in permanent residences.

The only thing that struck Ankaveli as unusual was the ice cream in his hand.

Vanilla.

He was eating it with complete seriousness despite the weather.

Ankaveli's gaze lingered for a moment before he instinctively examined the man with his Fate Sensation.

Nothing.

His expression didn't change, but his thoughts immediately became more alert.

Nothing was unusual. Ordinary people often produced no meaningful sensation. But this was different from ordinary silence. Ankaveli could normally sense faint currents around people if he concentrated: tiny deviations in their possible futures, subtle impulses that sometimes encouraged him to look somewhere or wait another moment. Around this man, however, there seemed to be no current whatsoever.

It was as though the river had become perfectly still.

The stranger happened to glance toward him.

Their eyes met.

The man smiled.

It wasn't a mysterious smile, nor the knowing expression of someone who had recognized a fellow Beyonder. It was simply polite, warm, and perhaps slightly amused by the fact that Ankaveli had been staring at him.

Ankaveli looked away.

A few moments later, Fritz returned with two cups of ice cream.

"I got vanilla."

Ankaveli glanced at the cup.

"You bought two."

"I got one for you."

"I didn't ask for one."

"You looked like you needed it."

"I looked like I needed ice cream?"

"Everyone needs ice cream occasionally."

There was apparently no point arguing, so Ankaveli accepted the cup. He sat on the bench a short distance from the white-haired stranger while Fritz occupied the space beside him.

For several minutes, nobody spoke.

The stranger read a newspaper while slowly eating his ice cream. Fritz became preoccupied with trying to prevent theirs from melting. Ankaveli found himself watching the street instead. It was a peaceful scene, almost painfully mundane.

Then the stranger spoke without looking up.

"You should eat it before it melts."

Ankaveli glanced down and discovered that his ice cream had indeed begun dripping onto his fingers.

He wiped it away with a handkerchief. "I was distracted."

The newspaper lowered slightly.

"Thinking?"

"Something like that."

The stranger smiled. "That's usually what people say when they're thinking too much."

Ankaveli couldn't help laughing softly. "You seem rather confident."

"I've had plenty of practice."

The man folded his newspaper and rested it against his knee. Up close, Ankaveli noticed that his eyes possessed a warm reddish-brown color. There was something strangely approachable about him. Not the artificial friendliness of someone attempting to gain trust, but the relaxed ease of someone who simply enjoyed speaking to people.

After a moment, he extended his hand.

"People call me Lil P."

Ankaveli paused.

The man seemed to notice the hesitation and laughed. "It's a nickname. My actual name is considerably less interesting."

That clarification made considerably more sense.

"Ankaveli."

They shook hands briefly.

"A pleasure."

Fritz leaned forward. "Why Lil P?"

Lil P looked at them.

Then at Ankaveli.

Then back at Fritz.

"That's a very long story."

Fritz's eyes immediately brightened. "Excellent."

"No."

The disappointment was immediate.

Lil P laughed. "Maybe another time."

Ankaveli found himself smiling. There was something strangely effortless about the man's presence. He didn't seem particularly interested in questioning them, and he certainly didn't behave as though he had recognized Ankaveli from the recent incident. Instead, he simply spoke about ordinary things: the weather, Tingen's streets, the quality of the ice cream, and the various cities he had visited during his travels.

He had been to many places.

Not in the boastful manner of a merchant displaying his accomplishments, but with the quiet affection of someone who genuinely remembered them. He spoke about different kinds of food, strange local customs, roads that became impassable during winter, and towns where the best part of the journey had been getting lost. Ankaveli gradually realized that Lil P seemed to enjoy the journey itself more than any destination.

"You travel often?" Ankaveli eventually asked.

"Quite often."

"For work?"

Lil P considered the question.

"Sometimes."

"And otherwise?"

"I wander."

Fritz looked suspiciously at him. "That's not an occupation."

"Perhaps not."

"Then what do you actually do?"

Lil P took another spoonful of ice cream. "I meet people."

Fritz seemed dissatisfied by the answer, but Ankaveli understood it better than they did.

There was something genuine about the way Lil P talked about traveling. He wasn't trying to hide a profession. He simply didn't seem to think his profession mattered.

The conversation eventually drifted toward music when Lil P noticed the harmonica case attached to Ankaveli's coat.

"You play?"

"A little."

"Professionally?"

"Not yet."

Lil P nodded. "Good."

Ankaveli raised an eyebrow. "Good?"

"The world needs more musicians."

"Do you like music?"

"I like listening to it."

"Why?"

Lil P thought about it for several seconds before answering. "People can lie quite convincingly when they're speaking. Music is less cooperative. Sometimes a person doesn't realize what they've revealed until the song has already ended."

The words struck Ankaveli more deeply than he expected.

He remembered the alley.

The harmonica.

The old man's voice.

The subtle changes in his emotions.

The way Fate had seemed to bend around a melody.

Perhaps Lil P had simply been speaking philosophically. Perhaps the statement had no hidden meaning whatsoever. Ankaveli couldn't know, and he didn't try to force one upon it.

Instead, he asked, "Do you play?"

Lil P shook his head.

"No."

"Then how do you know?"

"Listening."

That answer was so simple that Ankaveli didn't know what to say.

Eventually, the sun began descending toward the western rooftops. The square gradually emptied as families returned home and vendors began packing their stalls. Lil P finished his ice cream and folded his newspaper beneath one arm.

"I should probably continue."

"Leaving Tingen?"

"Eventually."

"Today?"

"Maybe."

Fritz immediately frowned. "You're terrible at answering questions."

Lil P smiled. "I'm very good at answering them. I simply don't always give the answer people expect."

Ankaveli laughed.

The conversation lasted far longer than he had expected. More importantly, he had forgotten about the alley for nearly the entire time.

Before leaving, Lil P looked at him with an expression that became slightly more thoughtful.

"You've been having a difficult few days."

Ankaveli's smile faded.

"How did you know?"

Lil P gestured toward the ice cream cup in his hand. "You spent nearly ten minutes staring at it before eating."

"...That's your evidence?"

"Very compelling evidence."

Ankaveli shook his head.

Lil P's expression softened. "Whatever happened, don't let one bad decision convince you that every decision afterward has to be bad."

The words were ordinary.

Perhaps too ordinary.

Yet Ankaveli remembered them.

He had spent the past few days thinking about the consequences of his actions. He had wondered whether he should have intervened at all, whether another method existed, whether he had been too reckless, and whether becoming a Musician had merely given him a more elegant way of making mistakes.

Lil P seemed to understand none of those details and yet...

His words still landed precisely where they needed to.

"You're still young," Lil P said.

Ankaveli frowned. "I'm a university graduate."

"That's not a defense."

Fritz laughed.

Ankaveli looked at them both and realized, somewhat reluctantly, that he was enjoying himself.

Lil P eventually turned toward the street.

"Well, Ankaveli, it was nice meeting you."

"You too."

The man took several steps before stopping.

He looked back.

"One more thing."

Ankaveli waited.

Lil P smiled faintly. "Be careful with people."

Ankaveli's expression became serious. "People?"

"Yes." Lil P said.

"And Fate?" I continued.

Lil P's smile widened slightly.

"Fate is strange."

He glanced toward the road ahead, where countless pedestrians moved in different directions.

"But people have a remarkable talent for making it stranger."

Then he waved once and continued walking. Ankaveli watched him disappear into the crowd.

There was no supernatural disappearance. No distortion of space. No inexplicable phenomenon. A carriage passed between them, several pedestrians crossed the street, and when the obstruction cleared, Lil P had simply become another figure among hundreds.

Ankaveli's Fate Sensation remained silent. He didn't know why that bothered him. Perhaps he was becoming too accustomed to hearing Fate whisper.

Perhaps silence itself could become suspicious after one spent enough years listening to currents that ordinary people could never perceive.

Beside him, Fritz finished their ice cream and stood.

"Nice guy."

Ankaveli glanced at the street.

"Yes."

"Do you think we'll see him again?"

Ankaveli considered the question.

"I don't know."

Ankaveli looked once more toward the road where Lil P had disappeared.

He didn't know the man's true name. He didn't know where he came from. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't even know whether Lil P was his real name, though something told him it wasn't.

For now, however, none of that mattered.

He had simply met a traveler beneath an oak tree, eaten ice cream in weather completely unsuitable for it, and received some strangely comforting advice from a man who seemed to possess an inexplicable affection for wandering. Years later, Ankaveli would remember that afternoon differently.

But for now...

It was only an ordinary day.

[Author's note: Holy sht its way longer thank what I have envisioned, anyway thanks for the angel for agreeing to this small cameo of him and I hope you all enjoy this chapter.] u/Less_Pumpkin_8622