Fallen General's Omega (BL)

Noelle wakes early, the first light of dawn barely touching the horizon. He quietly slips out of bed, careful not to disturb the steady rhythm of Thorne's breathing. The room is dim, but Noelle's eyes have adjusted to the low light. On the table beside his bed, he counts out five gold coins, the last of their savings. It's not much, but it should be enough for what he needs.

His hands tremble slightly as he picks up a thick black metal collar made of sturdy metal. He had never worn one in his village, where alphas were rare, but here, even in this small town, the risk was too great. The collar is cold and heavy, a reminder of the dangers that lurk beyond their little home. As a final precaution, he wraps a faded scarf around his face, leaving only his eyes exposed. The memory of that lecherous merchant from three years ago is still fresh in his mind, a scar he refuses to reopen.

Noelle glances back at Thorne, lying motionless on the bed, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Noelle's gaze softens as he watches him sleep. The sound of Thorne's breathing is a small comfort, a sign that he's still here, still alive. He places a glass of water on the table within easy reach for when Thorne wakes.

With a final look at the lightening sky, Noelle gathers his things—a blunt dagger, the coins, and his resolve—and heads out the door. The journey down the hill is rough; the path overrun with weeds and loose stones. It takes him nearly twenty minutes to reach the bottom, and he knows the walk to town will take at least another hour. Every step feels like a small battle, but he pushes forward, determined to get what they need and return before the sun sets.

As he trudges down the overgrown road, the morning mist clings to him like a shroud. 

The town of Bischel lay nestled among rolling hills and dense forests, five hours by carriage east of the kingdom's capital. Modest in appearance, with worn cobblestones and weathered buildings, the town buzzed with life. Merchants shouted their wares, the scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the tang of smoke from blacksmiths' forges, and townsfolk bustled about, busy with their day. Noelle walked through the streets, his eyes scanning for a particular group—the children. They knew every corner, every secret of the town. It didn't take long before he spotted a cluster of them playing near an old oak tree.

Lowering himself to their eye level, Noelle approached with a friendly smile. His presence was met with wary stares, especially from a little girl who stepped forward, placing herself protectively between him and the others. Her fierce determination was almost amusing, considering her small size.

"What do you want?" she demanded, her voice sharp and filled with suspicion. She eyed him carefully, clearly ready to bolt or fight if needed.

"I can scream really loud, and my brother is Big Ben, the hunter. I wouldn't try anything if I were you," she declared, puffing out her chest in a display of defiance. Noelle had to stifle a chuckle—she was tiny, but her spirit was immense.

The mention of Big Ben piqued Noelle's interest. That was precisely who he needed. A local guide(guard) who could help him navigate the town without getting scammed or worse. Reaching into his pocket, Noelle produced a copper coin, holding it up for the girl to see. The hostility in her eyes disappeared in an instant, replaced by eager curiosity. When she reached for the coin, Noelle pulled it back teasingly, watching as she pouted before quickly agreeing to his request.

"How about you and Big Ben go on an adventure with me?" he suggested. After a brief hesitation, the girl nodded, her suspicion forgotten.

The girl, whose name was Mona, led Noelle through narrow alleyways and winding streets until they arrived at a small, dilapidated house on the outskirts of town. Animal heads, trophies of past hunts, hung outside, giving the place an intimidating air. "Brother!" Mona yelled, her voice cutting through the stillness. A deep grunt answered from within, followed by the creak of a door.

A hulking man with a scarred face stepped out, wearing a stained apron and holding a large butcher's knife. His size and demeanor were imposing, but there was a softness in his eyes when he looked at his sister. This was Big Ben—the exact kind of ally Noelle needed.

It took some convincing, but eventually, Big Ben agreed to help. With Mona perched on his broad shoulders, they made their way back into town. The imposing man's presence parted the crowds with ease, and Mona chattered away the entire time, her brunette hair bouncing as she pointed out different sights. At just ten years old, she was a bundle of energy, her freckled face full of mischief.

As they navigated the market, Noelle felt more confident with Big Ben by his side. They gathered everything on his list: fabric for new clothes, a few sturdy lamps, pots and pans, sacks of wheat and flour, salt, sugar—everything the house might need. The pile grew larger with each stop, and eventually, Big Ben fetched a cart to carry it all. Mona, perched atop the cart now, continued her endless chatter. According to her, Big Ben was more than just a hunter; he took on any job that required muscle—escort work, digging, heavy lifting. She proudly listed all the things her brother could do, acting as his one-person advertisement.

Among the supplies, Noelle made sure to pick up some salted meat. A magic storage box would have been ideal, but those cost thousands of gold coins—far beyond his current budget. Practical methods of preservation would have to suffice for now.

By the time they headed back, the cart was heavy with goods, and Noelle was thoroughly exhausted. Mona, finally worn out, had fallen asleep atop the cart, her earlier energy spent. To his surprise, Big Ben, despite the occasional bead of sweat on his brow, pulled the cart without complaint, even up the steep hill leading to the house.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the trees, they arrived back at the house. Noelle quickly dashed inside to check on Thorne. The general was still asleep, his breathing steady, and Noelle felt a wave of relief. He rushed back outside to help with the unloading, but Big Ben had already handled most of it himself, moving with quiet efficiency despite the long day.

Noelle pulled out two coins and pressed them into Big Ben's large, calloused hand. The man tried to refuse, shaking his head firmly, but Noelle cut him off before he could utter a word.

"Please don't refuse," Noelle said, his voice soft and trembling as he let tears well up in his eyes. "I'm new here, and my husband… he's not in the best of health. I really need someone to help us." He added a small sniffle, his expression full of desperation. "I can't keep walking down that hill every day. I need to be here with him."

Noelle watched as the hunter's rough exterior began to crack. The man hesitated, clearly torn, before letting out a heavy sigh. With a reluctant grunt, Big Ben finally nodded in agreement. It was clear that he wasn't a man of many words, but Noelle was quickly learning to read the signs.

Sensing an opportunity, Noelle decided to push a little further. "Since you'll already be coming by with the meat, could you also bring some firewood? Maybe some milk and eggs too? Just a few small things."

Big Ben's face flinched slightly as Noelle listed the additional chores. Noelle could almost see the man calculating the extra work and likely feeling a bit scammed. But after a moment, Big Ben gave another grunt of agreement. Noelle hid his relief behind a polite smile as he watched the man turn and trudge back down the hill, his broad shoulders slightly slumped.

As Big Ben disappeared from view, Noelle allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. He had successfully secured the extra help he needed, and with a smile still lingering on his lips, he turned back toward the house, ready to prepare for the long days ahead.