The rain had subsided, but the sound of droplets sliding down the rocks still persisted in the darkness. The shelter remained silent. Hans slept deeply, his breathing steady, unaware of the world around him. Lysandra, on the other hand, remained awake, lost in her thoughts.


    Then, a sound broke the stillness of the night.


    A faint creak.


    A footstep.


    Lysandra didn’t move immediately. Her body tensed, her senses sharpened. It wasn’t an animal. Someone was outside.


    With the caution of someone who had lived through too many dangerous nights, she slid a hand toward the dagger within reach. Her fingers gripped the hilt firmly, the cold metal providing her with a familiar sensation: control.


    Knock, knock.


    A sharp, precise knock on the wooden door.


    A pause.


    Another knock.


    Lysandra perked up, expectant. It wasn’t an attempt to force the door open—it was a code.


    A code she knew well.


    She kept her breathing steady, but her mind was already at work. If it was who she thought it was, it meant trouble.


    She pressed her lips together, hesitating for a moment. Finally, she stood up silently and approached the entrance. Her dagger remained firm in her hand, hidden beneath the folds of her clothing. With the other hand, she cracked the door open slightly, letting the darkness of the forest seep into the refuge.


    Standing before her, under the dim light of the moon filtering through the clouds, was a hooded man.


    His boots were caked in dried mud, his cloak soaked, and his breathing was slow yet intense. A resilient man, hardened by a life on the road. His dark eyes examined her with severity.


    Lysandra felt a slight shiver run down her spine.


    Geronimus.


    A loyal companion from her guild.


    She hadn''t expected to see him. If he had found her, it meant something had gone wrong—against her.


    He stared at her in silence for a moment before letting out a deep sigh, full of exhaustion.


    —"Five days. Five damned nights looking for you."


    Lysandra tensed internally, but her face remained expressionless.


    —"And that tells me something went wrong."


    Geronimus let out a dry chuckle.


    —"More effort, you say? I’ve tracked footprints, followed rumors, and left bodies in my wake. And all because of your damned habit of vanishing when you''re needed the most."


    Lysandra gestured for him to enter the cabin and closed the door behind him in silence. She glanced at Hans, ensuring he was still asleep. His breathing was steady; he didn’t seem to have heard anything.


    With a swift motion, she lowered the oil lamp slightly, shrouding the cabin in deeper shadows.


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    —"How did you find me?" —she whispered.


    Geronimus shook his head, still tired.


    —"I had a rough idea of where you were last seen and estimated where you might have gone. But I didn’t expect you to hide in a Smell."


    Lysandra frowned.


    —"It’s not an obvious place."


    —"I know. That’s why it took me so long."


    Lysandra crossed her arms.


    —"If you found me, others could too."


    Geronimus fixed his gaze on her.


    —"The guild is already looking for you."


    Lysandra felt a cold sensation creeping up her spine, but she didn’t let her expression change.


    —"I know the task never returned."


    Geronimus raised an eyebrow.


    —"Then what the hell happened?"


    Lysandra clenched her jaw for a second before replying.


    —"I couldn''t complete it."


    Geronimus narrowed his eyes.


    —"I figured that much when the wagon never arrived. What I want to know is why."


    Lysandra sighed, crossing her arms. She knew she would have to explain things at some point, but she hadn’t expected it to be this soon.


    —"The chaos of the race changed everything. There was too much movement, too many eyes looking in the wrong direction… My escape route was blocked."


    —"And the loot?"


    Lysandra kept her face impassive.


    —"I couldn’t deliver it."


    Geronimus let out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face in frustration.


    —"Tell me at least you didn’t lose it."


    Lysandra didn’t respond immediately, which was enough for Geronimus to click his tongue in irritation.


    —"Damn it, Lysandra…"


    She lifted her hand, cutting off any further reprimand.


    —"It’s not lost. It’s just… out of reach for now."


    Geronimus looked at her with a mix of incredulity and frustration.


    —"You have no idea how much pressure is on the guild right now. They think you ran off with the gold."


    Lysandra met his gaze, unwavering.


    —"Give me two days. I’ll fix it."


    Geronimus shook his head.


    —"You don’t have two days. I can’t go back empty-handed."


    —"If I go back now, I won’t be able to complete the task."


    Geronimus stared at her.


    —"If you show up now, at least you can explain yourself and negotiate. If you wait, two days might be too late."


    Lysandra remained firm.


    —"If I return without finishing the task, there will be no negotiation. Only accusations."


    Geronimus sighed heavily.


    —"I can’t promise things will be fine when you return."


    Lysandra nodded slowly.


    —"I appreciate it."


    There was a tense silence between them. Finally, Geronimus grunted:


    —"Do what you have to do, but don’t take too long. I’ll do what I can to buy you time."


    —"I appreciate it." —Lysandra repeated firmly.


    Geronimus gave her one last look before turning away.


    —"Just make sure it’s worth it."


    Just before stepping out the door, Geronimus turned back and took a glance at Hans, who was still deeply asleep, completely unaware of what was happening.


    —"Sleeps like a log."


    Lysandra exhaled lightly, unsurprised.


    —"Not surprising. He took quite the beating before I found him."


    Geronimus raised an eyebrow with curiosity.


    —"You found him? I thought it was the other way around."


    Lysandra shook her head.


    —"The task got more complicated than expected. Just when things were turning difficult, I crossed paths with him."


    Geronimus gave her a knowing look.


    —"And what? Did you decide to save him out of kindness?"


    Lysandra shrugged indifferently.


    —"I saved his life, yes. But he helped me too, even if he didn’t realize it."


    Geronimus gave her a skeptical glance.


    —"Don’t tell me he’s useful."


    —"Not in the traditional sense," Lysandra replied with a faint smile. "But trust me, he has a peculiar talent for twisting situations in his favor… or at least for surviving them."


    Geronimus let out a short laugh.


    —"Well, with how loud he snores, he doesn’t seem too concerned."


    —"Not yet," Lysandra corrected, her eyes glinting.


    Geronimus gave the cabin one last look before stepping outside and vanishing into the night.


    Lysandra sighed and let silence settle once more in the shelter.


    Two days.


    That was all she had.


    She glanced at Hans, who muttered something in his sleep before shifting under the blanket.


    Shaking her head, she crossed her arms and silently extinguished the oil lamp, letting darkness claim the refuge once more.


    Dawn would bring new problems.