ã€ŠAwakeningã€‹


 1. The day after the night before

    Have you ever had one of those days?

    Del often had "those days" ¡ª they seemed to happen all too often for him. Endless nights where sleep refused to come, filled with frustration and pain. This night was no different.

    He sighed as he grabbed a coffee and turned on his laptop. Distraction, he often found, was the best way to take his mind off life¡¯s annoyances.

    Del had always considered himself a nobody, just an average man worn down by hypocrisy, age, and a misspent youth. In truth, it hadn¡¯t been overly wild but had left its mark. Once, he¡¯d been more than the wreck he was now. He could walk without a stick. He had real friends, not the superficial connections cluttering his inbox and social media profiles. There was a time when his days weren¡¯t dominated by the struggle to choose which painkiller might slightly dull the ever-present ache in his legs.

    ¡®Stop it, Del,¡¯ the voice he kept in his head berated him. Del had once thought this inner self was his check on sanity, keeping him from the stupid. Maybe it was but then again, it more concerned him when he got into arguments, with his other, more antagonistic self¡ªand lost.

    Life could undeniably be difficult, but he¡¯d always believed it wasn¡¯t the shit you were dealt but how you handled the mess you were dealt that mattered in making the man.

    His laptop screen blinked to life. Emails held nothing of interest ¡ª some Nigerian prince wanted to be very kind and offered him a large wedge in exchange for help with diamonds. Social media wasn¡¯t much better. His local pub advertised an upcoming karaoke night that might be worth attending if only to torture a few eardrums. A distant relative had posted a picture of their newborn.

    ¡®Ugly little bugger,¡¯ Del thought as he posted a smiley face and a heart emoji

    One post caught his eye briefly: a free life-skills course. Curious, he clicked the link. The page loaded, but it wasn¡¯t for him. It was cluttered with ads and banners, a maze of distractions that left little actual content. He moved on, clicking through random links. Scammers, ads for cars he couldn¡¯t afford, dating sites he had no interest in. He lingered a moment on an image. ¡®Nice tits, though,¡¯ he considered wryly before moving on.

    The internet was a deep, dark hole filled with dreams and nightmares, promises and platitudes. It offered everything and nothing in equal measure, pandering to desires only to whip them away. Del sipped his coffee and grimaced. It was cold now, bitter and unappealing, much like a frigid January morning.

    Another click, another dead end. A ¡°404 error¡± greeted him. He muttered under his breath. Then, a new banner appeared: ¡°Are You Good Enough?¡±

    ¡°Good enough to waste my nights on mindless clickbait,¡± he muttered but clicked anyway. Anything to pass the time and distract from the throbbing pain in his legs.

    The site loaded quickly, revealing a retro design with soft background music that struck a faint chord of nostalgia. Unlike most pages he encountered, this one held his attention. It was a mix of quizzes, IQ tests, pattern recognition games, and riddles with moral dilemmas. The questions were engaging, the sort he hadn¡¯t encountered in years. One puzzle asked him to make an impossible choice, reminiscent of the classic ¡°trolley problem¡± but with a unique twist.

    The experience was oddly fun, a rare feeling for Del. Yet beneath the amusement, something gnawed at his gut. It wasn¡¯t hunger ¡ª the dried crusts of a sandwich beside him were the only remains of his supper. No, this was something deeper. The kind of disquiet one felt during a horror movie when some guy made the inevitable bad decision to go look in the basement.

    The questions and puzzles felt intrusive, almost as if they were peeling back layers of his psyche to understand him. It unnerved him even as it fascinated him. What was this site trying to determine? Was it truly about being ¡°good enough¡± for something? His instincts told him it was leading to a scam or a sales pitch, but he¡¯d played along anyway. It had whiled away the darkest hours and in the end, been fun.

    As dawn¡¯s light began to filter through his window, he closed the laptop with reluctance. Sleep called to him, and for once, it came easily. Del settled into bed, the familiar thump of his cat Misty landing beside him providing a comforting end to the night.

    Del awoke with his body stiff but functional, reluctant to open his eyes. He knew it was well into the morning, perhaps later. The sound of scratching at the door signalled Misty¡¯s impatience to be let out. His mouth felt dry, with a tongue that felt like a fur rug stuck to the back of his teeth.

    With a groan, he smacked his lips and tasted the air. ¡®Must be Tuesday.¡¯ Mondays had a sour, bitter tang to them, and this wasn¡¯t it. Rubbing his eyes open, he glanced at the clock. Its flashing green dashes betrayed a recent power flicker. The radio had mentioned solar storms, after all. ¡®At least it didn¡¯t fry my computer,¡¯ he thought. Frying chips was only good for a fish supper.

    After handling the necessities in the bathroom and scrubbing his teeth to a tolerable state, Del headed for the kitchen. Coffee was the priority; his day wouldn¡¯t properly begin until his second cup.

    In the back of his mind, something nagged at him. He checked the cupboard and fridge. Bread and milk were accounted for, so it wasn¡¯t that. Whatever it was would come to him eventually, no sense worrying over it now. Coffee in hand, he settled into his favourite chair, only to sigh and get back up to let the cat out.

    ¡®OK mate, so what are the plans for today?¡¯ Same as always, he supposed. Catch up on the news, shake his head at the sheer stupidity of the world. He¡¯d once thought about having kids, but life hadn¡¯t gone that way, and now, in his fifties, he was grateful it hadn¡¯t. He¡¯d be long gone soon enough. It was the youth he felt sorry for. What a damn sad, dangerous, and spoiled world they¡¯re inheriting,¡¯ he considered, not for the first time. Now, his own youth hadn¡¯t been perfect¡ªfar from it. Life had always been a series of struggles, just ones tailored to the times. But today¡¯s kids didn''t realise what a fucked up place the world was rapidly becoming

    Del picked up his phone. No signal. Odd, but not unheard of. He wondered if the internet was down too. Shrugging on his shoes and grabbing his coat and stick, he decided to head to the shop and pick up something for dinner.

    As he opened the door, Misty shot back in, moving faster than usual. The neighbour¡¯s dog must have been tormenting her again. Del would have to say something if it continued. Stepping outside, he headed up the street. Something felt off, though he couldn¡¯t quite place it. He lived in a quiet part of town, but not this quiet. The usual background noise of distant traffic was absent. No birdsong greeted him, nor even the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

    He stopped. This wasn¡¯t right. Unease began to build in his gut. ¡®What the fuck is going on?¡¯ he thought, the only sound now the clack of his stick against the pavement and the tread of his feet.

    Determined to shake off the feeling, he pressed on toward the corner shop. Ishmael, the owner, was a hard worker and rarely closed. A chat with him might help restore some normality.

    ¡°Del, you really are losing the plot, my old mate,¡± he muttered, shaking his head as he walked. A chuckle escaped him as he considered the peculiarities of his semi-hermit lifestyle and the onset of what he jokingly called ¡®his senility.¡¯

    Rounding the corner, the shop came into view. It had stood there since before his time, a cornerstone of the village. This place and the local pub had been the centre of village life until slowly being swallowed up by the expanding town along with the rest of the close-knit community. Ishmael had owned it for around two decades, transforming it into a compact haven of overpriced essentials.

    Del approached the door. Oddly, it was closed. The lights were on, but neither Ishmael nor his wife was in sight. He rattled the handle, but the door was locked tight. Knocking yielded no response. Concern crept in as he remembered Ishmael¡¯s hospital stay the previous year. Even then, the shop had remained open, run by his nephew. The prickling at the back of Del¡¯s neck intensified. This wasn¡¯t right. None of it.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Not one for conspiracy theories, Del nonetheless felt his unease deepening. He checked his phone again¡ªstill no signal. Resolved, he turned back toward home, moving as quickly as his stiff legs allowed. Fast wasn¡¯t the right word, he thought with grim amusement, but there was no denying the urgency in his step now.

    Del had often joked about encroaching senility, but as he turned the corner and saw his door ahead, a different sensation overtook him¡ªparanoia. He wasn¡¯t alone. Someone was waiting at his gate, standing patiently. As he drew closer, he realised it was a woman, youngish¡ªor so he thought, hard to tell these days¡ªdressed in a business suit and holding a briefcase.

    She turned to face him as he approached.

    ¡°Can I help you?¡± he asked, his tone wary.

    She smiled. ¡°Mr Axholm, I can certainly help you. May I come in?¡±

    Del¡¯s mind reeled. ¡®Who the hell is she? How does she know my name?¡¯ Nothing about this day was normal.

    ¡°No, you can¡¯t,¡± he snapped. ¡°Whoever the hell you are and whatever you¡¯re selling, I DON¡¯T WANT IT.¡±

    He moved to push past her and reach his door. It was an awkward manoeuvre; he really needed to get fitter. She didn¡¯t make it easy pretty much blocking the gate.

    ¡°Do you mind!¡± Del snapped. The woman took a step to the side allowing him to squeeze past, making sure to clip her shin with his stick as he did. The door slammed shut behind him with a satisfying thud.

    Leaning against the door, he closed his eyes and sighed.

    ¡®What a fucking godforsaken day this is turning out to be.¡¯

    Del¡¯s house wasn¡¯t large. To the left of the front door was his bathroom, which became his first stop. Cold water splashed against his face, grounding him slightly.

    ¡°Damn,¡± he muttered.

    Opposite the bathroom lay the kitchen. Down the corridor to the left was his bedroom; to the right, a small but functional sitting room. He¡¯d always described the house as compact, though an estate agent would undoubtedly label it ¡°bijou.¡±

    ¡®Right, coffee,¡¯ he thought. ¡®I knew I shouldn¡¯t have headed out before my second cup.¡¯ The kettle boiled as his thoughts began to untangle.

    ¡®This is ridiculous. It must have been that cheese sandwich last night. I¡¯m being irrational.¡¯

    His mind worked overtime to explain away the day¡¯s oddities. Surely Ishmael and his wife were fine. Tomorrow, they¡¯d have some outlandish story about why the shop had been closed.

    ¡®As for the rest,¡¯ he thought, ¡®the mind is well known for inventing absurdities to fill gaps. That woman can go fuck herself and you, Del, are a complete and total pillock.¡¯

    With a rueful smile, he picked up his coffee and wandered into the lounge.

    The mug slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor and splashing hot liquid across his foot.

    ¡°Fuck, damn¡­ You! What the actual hell?¡±

    Sitting primly on his desk chair was the woman from outside. Her smile lingered, though it didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes.

    Del¡¯s heart raced. ¡®OK, now I know I¡¯m going mad.¡¯ His foot throbbed, a mix of its usual pain and the fresh sting of the burn. She sat motionless, her gaze fixed on him, unnervingly calm. He felt like a specimen under observation.

    ¡°How the hell did you get in here? Actually, don¡¯t answer that. Get the hell out of my house, or I¡¯m calling the police.¡±

    He grabbed his phone. No signal. Frustrated, he hurled it across the room, where it landed unceremoniously on his chair.

    Del still had a landline, a relic of his old-fashioned ways. He stepped to the sideboard and lifted the receiver. No dial tone. His sense of isolation deepened, trapping him in a nightmare where reality frayed at the edges.

    ¡°Are you leaving, or do I have to throw you out?¡± he barked. Anger edged his voice, fuelled by frustration and unease.

    The woman remained unmoved. Her gaze held a hint of sadness as she crossed her legs and brushed an invisible speck from her suit jacket.

    Del had always been a realist. ¡®Who the fuck are you kidding mate, you could no more throw her out than wag your tail.¡¯

    He exhaled sharply and dropped into his chair, resigned. He removed his sodden shoe and steaming sock, examining the angry red of his foot. ¡®This had better not be a damn timeshare she¡¯s trying to sell,¡¯ he thought bitterly.

    ¡°OK, let¡¯s have it,¡± he said at last. ¡°Who the hell are you, what do you want, and how the hell did you get into my house?¡±

    Her calm gaze met his. ¡°As I said outside, Mr Axholm, I am here to help you.¡± Her voice carried an air of dignity, a quiet authority that commanded respect.

    ¡°I got that. Help me with what? I have no money, so whatever amazing gadget or lifestyle you¡¯re selling, I can¡¯t afford it. So if that¡¯s all, you might as well go.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not selling anything,¡± she replied with a measured smile. ¡°But I am here so you can fulfil your contract.¡±

    Confusion replaced anger.

    ¡®What? Contract? What contract?¡¯

    The tension in his body ebbed slightly, replaced by curiosity. The burning throb in his foot barely registered as he tried to make sense of her words.

    Del stared at the woman, her calm demeanour making his confusion deepen.

    ¡°Some months ago, we put out a job application. The criteria were strict, and although we¡¯ve had many applicants, you are the first¡ªand so far only¡ªapplicant to pass the initial selection process,¡± she said, her tone unwavering.

    ¡®Now I¡¯m really confused,¡¯ Del thought, his brow furrowing. He¡¯d been medically retired for five years, ever since the accident that had left him disabled. Work hadn¡¯t been a part of his life since then, nor had he been looking for it. The compensation he¡¯d received, while not vast, had been enough to clear his mortgage and sustain him with frugal living. His only real commitment now was Misty, and he¡¯d made peace with living out his days without the stress of a job.

    ¡®What application?¡¯ He wracked his memory. Surely he¡¯d remember applying for something. This situation was starting to feel more surreal by the second. ¡®Am I losing my mind? Is this just some delusional conversation with my cat?¡¯ He glanced over at Misty, who was curled up in her favourite cardboard box. ¡®Nope, the cat¡¯s there. And so is this woman. I shoved against her outside, so she¡¯s no mind-fucked illusion.¡¯

    The woman¡¯s gaze remained steady, almost as though she could follow every step of his internal monologue.

    ¡°Let¡¯s start over,¡± Del said finally. ¡°You know who I am, so how about, for politeness¡¯ sake, you tell me who you are.¡±

    She inclined her head slightly. ¡°Certainly, Mr Axholm. I am Menolly Swift,¡± she replied, her voice soft yet firm.

    ¡°Call me Del. This ¡®Mr¡¯ stuff is unnecessary and too formal for someone who breaks into my home.¡±

    A brief smile crossed her face, one that actually reached her eyes this time. ¡°Of course, Del.¡±

    ¡°Now,¡± he said, leaning back in his chair, ¡°I think I need some answers. For a start, I haven¡¯t applied for a job with anyone. The last time I signed a contract was for a new phone three years ago.¡±

    Menolly nodded, as if she¡¯d expected his reaction. ¡°Let me try to clear things up for you,¡± she began. ¡°Last night, you made an application and signed the contract for your initial role suitability assessment.¡± She smiled faintly. ¡°You passed.¡±

    Del¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°Hold on,¡± he interrupted, ¡°I never signed anything. Certainly not any job application or contract.¡±

    Menolly calmly lifted her briefcase from the floor, spun its combination lock, and opened it on the table. From his chair, Del couldn¡¯t see what it contained, but he figured she¡¯d show him whatever she deemed necessary. This whole damned encounter seemed very much her show.

    She removed a notepad and swiped through its pages before finding what she sought.

    ¡°Ah, here we are. At 03:18 this morning, you accessed the application and assessment room and accepted the contract.¡±

    ¡°The what?¡± Del asked, incredulous.

    ¡°You ticked the box to accept, Del,¡± she said, sighing quietly as though this were all too predictable. To herself, she added, ¡°You humans never bother to read the T¡¯s & C¡¯s.¡±

    ¡®What was that? Did she say humans?¡¯ Del¡¯s mind stumbled over the word, but he shook it off. ¡®Nah, I must be hearing things. With the way this day¡¯s gone, it¡¯s not surprising.¡¯

    ¡°So I ticked accept¡ªdoesn¡¯t everybody?¡± he said with a shrug. ¡°So what, do tell me, have I got myself into?¡±

    Menolly set aside the notepad and instead pulled out a stack of papers. They appeared to be printouts from last night¡¯s games and quizzes. She handed them to him.

    The top sheet made his breath catch. It was a summarised biography. His full name, date and place of birth, his mother¡¯s name¡­ and his ¡®father¡¯s¡¯ name. ¡®Damn. I never knew who he was.¡¯ He stared at the page. ¡®Well, there¡¯s a corker.¡¯ Mum had never told him, and she¡¯d been gone a long time now. She¡¯d probably turn in her grave if she knew he had this information.

    A chuckle escaped him. ¡®Who would have thought? My old schoolmaster, the dirty dog.¡¯

    ¡®Stop getting distracted, Del.¡¯ He focused back on the sheet, which was packed with personal details: jobs he¡¯d held, places he¡¯d lived, even a library fine for a book he¡¯d lost years ago.

    Well, I have to give them credit for a background check,¡¯ he thought, ¡®but it¡¯s also bloody creepy. Who are these people?¡¯

    They knew too much for this to be a scam or sales pitch. And it didn¡¯t feel like a hallucination; if anything, everything felt more vivid and real than usual. They knew things he¡¯d never shared, and even things he hadn¡¯t known himself. The accuracy of the details he did know, lent weight to the ones he hadn¡¯t been aware of.

    Del¡¯s thoughts wandered briefly. ¡®I wonder if Mr Willhelm ever knew I was his bastard son. Sharing a class with his daughter while he crammed Geography into our heads¡­¡¯ He almost laughed. ¡®I nearly asked her out once. Then she met the guy she married. Last I heard, they¡¯d moved to New Zealand.¡¯

    He shook his head, refocusing. The rest of the papers were from the website: evaluations, scores, graphs, and charts. It was an unsettlingly thorough dossier.

    ¡°So I had some fun passing a sleepless night on your website,¡± Del said finally, his tone sharp. ¡°Your information on me is disturbingly scary, and you¡¯re saying I¡¯m now in some sort of selection process?¡±

    He glanced at the shards of his broken mug on the floor. ¡®I need coffee¡­ preferably in my mouth, not on my foot.¡¯

    ¡°Do you want one?¡± he asked curtly gathering the broken mug and heading for the door. ¡°Then you can skip the BS and tell me what I¡¯ve got myself into. Let¡¯s cut the crap and get down to it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m good, thank you,¡± Menolly replied smoothly. ¡°And yes, we can now ¡®cut the crap,¡¯ as you say.¡±

 Chapter 2 â€“ I like my life simple.

    Del grimaced at his sodden carpet, another mess to make his life harder than it needed to be.

    ¡°I liked that mug,¡± he grumbled under his breath. It had been just the right size for a satisfying drink. With a sigh, he tossed the shards into the bin and headed to the kitchen.

    A couple of minutes later, he returned with a fresh mug of coffee, carefully setting it on the table before sinking back into his chair.

    ¡°Right then, Menolly, how about you tell me what you think I¡¯ve got myself into.¡±

    He tried to keep his tone level, but his mind bristled with scepticism. Whatever half-truths or outright lies she was about to throw his way, he reserved the right to doubt them all. Sure, the bizarre bio she¡¯d spouted about him earlier was unsettling, but his paranoia about ¡®Big Brother¡¯ had long since convinced him that hidden government powers could dig up anything they wanted.

    ¡®Probably with MI5 or 6 or bloody 99 with all that shit she had dug up¡¯

    His gaze flicked back to her. She was too perfect in her portrayal of an anonymous suit¡ªso meticulously right that it felt wrong.

    She looked to be around five-six or seven, slim, with short, collar-length blonde hair and blue eyes that seemed to flicker grey at times. Everything about her screamed precision. The kind of person who probably ironed their socks. Her cream suit was immaculate, devoid of even a single wrinkle, as if she¡¯d stepped straight out of a high-end department store catalogue.

    But it was her eyes that bothered him most. That subtle flicker from blue to grey reminded him of an old television screen losing signal. It wasn¡¯t glaring, but it was enough to send an uneasy prickle down his spine.

    As she spoke, her calm tone drifted past his ears, but his brain had already checked out. He found himself staring at the way her hair stayed perfectly still, even as the breeze from the open window brushed past.

    Realising his mind had wandered, he forced himself to focus. He hadn¡¯t heard a word of what she¡¯d said. His brain was foggy, as if in some sort of waking dream.

    ¡®Am I still asleep? Maybe I¡¯ll wake soon, drool on my chin, and the cat snuggled in.¡¯ He briefly considered

    ¡°Sorry, what?¡± he asked, sighing. ¡°Could you start again?¡±

    She didn¡¯t seem fazed. ¡°I was just telling you about your test and what the scores revealed about you, Mr Axholm.¡±

    ¡°Del,¡± he corrected automatically.

    Her voice remained steady, unwavering. ¡°The application process and testing, Del, are designed to uncover various aspects of an applicant.¡±

    She held a notepad in her hand but didn¡¯t glance at it. Her piercing gaze remained fixed on him.

    ¡°We assessed how you handle pressure, solve problems, and your sense of right and wrong.¡±

    ¡°Pressure?¡± he scoffed. ¡°It was just an IQ test and some games. I do those all the time. Was yours different in some way? Because I sure couldn¡¯t tell.¡±

    This time, she didn¡¯t smile or look away. Her eyes, now distinctly grey, grew serious.

    ¡°Yes, Del. Very different, and far more so.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t say,¡± he shot back, sarcasm thick in his tone. Frustration bubbled up, and he held up a hand to cut her off.

    ¡°Look, lady...¡± He sighed, rubbing at his temples. ¡®Why does everything have to be so damned complicated?¡¯

    ¡°I didn¡¯t invite you here to give me test scores or tell me I¡¯ve got some A-class IQ. Actually, I didn¡¯t invite you in at all. I¡¯m no super genius, and even if I was, so what!¡±

    The start of a headache throbbed behind his eyes. He couldn¡¯t remember if there were any pills left in the drawer or just that super-strong prescription stuff he avoided using.

    ¡°I like my life simple¡ªcoffee, cat, peace and quiet. Not... whatever the hell this is.¡±

    She nodded, her expression unchanging.

    ¡°I thought it important you understood what you¡¯ve managed and why I¡¯m here because of it,¡± she replied calmly. ¡°But if you¡¯d prefer, I can provide a breakdown later for you to read¡ªor throw away¡ªas you wish.¡±

    Del closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. ¡®Count to ten, Del. Maybe she¡¯ll be gone when you open them.¡¯

    She wasn¡¯t.

    He took a deep breath. ¡°Fine. Go ahead and pile on the rest of the shit. Why not? This day¡¯s already off the rails.¡±

    Menolly¡¯s gaze shifted slightly, assessing. After a brief pause, she nodded.

    ¡°Things are much worse than most people realise. This planet faces a crisis, one that will affect every living creature here.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, global warming or some other crap,¡± Del replied dismissively. ¡°I¡¯ll be long dead before that becomes my problem. And while I like polar bears as much as the next guy...¡±

    He trailed off as her expression stopped him cold. Her eyes held a strange mix of sadness, determination, and something else he couldn¡¯t place.

    ¡°I¡¯m not talking about global warming or polar bears,¡± she said quietly. ¡°And I might remind you that humans are animals too.¡± One eyebrow arched briefly.

    ¡°Touche,¡± he grunted.

    Her voice softened as she continued, calm but insistent. ¡°Let me step back and give you a brief r¨¦sum¨¦ of who I am. Perhaps then you¡¯ll understand better.¡±

    She set down the notepad she hadn¡¯t used once since arriving.

    ¡°My correct designation is Menolly 14711. I am a construct employed by an organisation beyond this planet¡¯s parameters, part of the Sol monitoring collective.¡±

    Del froze, mug halfway to his lips. Slowly, he set it down. The last thing he needed was a lap full of hot coffee.

    ¡°The who-what now?¡± he said, scepticism dripping from his voice.

    This confirmed it¡ªDel was off with the fairies, and the men in white suits would be arriving to collect him soon.

    ¡®See, Del,¡¯ he thought derisively, ¡®this is what you get for constant jokes about going senile.¡¯

    ¡°Monitoring?¡± he snorted. ¡°Am I on some damned terror alert watchlist because of some website I randomly browsed?¡±

    Menolly¡¯s expression remained steady, her calm voice unwavering. ¡°I know it¡¯s a lot to take in, and I¡¯m sure you have many questions and doubts. But this is important. You are important, Del. Of the several hundred thousand people who found the site and completed the tests, you were the only one so far to meet the criteria.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Del stood abruptly, pacing the room as he started peering into corners, behind the curtains, and even out the window.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± she asked, her tone curious but unbothered.

    ¡°Looking for the cameras,¡± he muttered as he moved a picture frame and then examined the clock. ¡°This has to be some sort of elaborate hoax. I¡¯m not sure who the hell put you up to it, but you, my dear Menolly, have been rumbled.¡±

    For a moment, her face showed genuine confusion, but it quickly shifted into something stern¡ªalmost frightening.

    ¡°Sit down, Mr Axholm!¡±

    She didn¡¯t raise her voice, but there was a command in her tone that he couldn¡¯t ignore. Startled, he sank back into the chair, clasping his hands tightly to stop a slight tremble from showing.

    Her face softened as she resumed her more neutral expression.

    ¡°When you woke this morning,¡± she began, ¡°did you notice anything unusual?¡±

    Del¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Perhaps,¡± he replied cagily.

    ¡°No people about? No sounds? Nothing moving?¡± she pressed.

    His eyes widened. ¡®Hold it together, Del.¡¯

    His mind raced. She was right¡ªabout the strange silence, the eerie stillness. His thoughts began to replay fragments of their conversation, pulling at the oddities she¡¯d mentioned earlier.

    ¡®You humans.¡¯

    ¡®Construct.¡¯

    ¡®BEYOND THE DAMN PLANET!¡¯

    ¡°Are you some sort of bloody alien? Is everybody else dead or something? What is this? What the actual fuck is going on?¡± His voice rose with every word, his breath catching in his throat.

    ¡°Is this some kind of alien abduction?¡± he added, the sarcasm dripping. ¡°Want me to bend over so you can stick a probe up my arse?¡±

    She didn¡¯t flinch. His tirade might as well have been waves breaking on a rocky shore for all the effect it had.

    ¡°I know it¡¯s a lot to take in,¡± she said, her voice calm, a stark contrast to his ragged breathing.

    ¡®Hold it together, Del; having a heart attack won¡¯t exactly solve things,¡¯ he told himself, forcing a deep, shuddering breath.

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m okay.¡±

    ¡®Forget ten, just count to five and calm down,¡¯ he admonished himself. His heartbeat slowed, and he turned his gaze back to her.

    ¡°So, what was going on this morning?¡± he asked, his voice more even. ¡®Start with the simple stuff,¡¯ he thought, though nothing about the day had been simple.

    ¡°Put simply, imagine existing in a time between time,¡± she began. ¡°Well, we are¡ªyou and I, that is. In answer to your earlier question, no one is dead, at least not because of what you and I are part of.¡±

    She uncrossed her legs and leaned slightly forward.

    ¡°Everything you¡¯ve experienced since waking has existed in a space less than a nanosecond in time. No sound, as sound needs time to be heard. No wind, no moving cars, and no footsteps. Once we¡¯ve finished, this bubble will end, and your time will return to what you consider normal.¡±

    Del stared at her, feeling the beginnings of what he was sure would be the mother of all headaches.

    ¡°You stopped time?¡± His voice sounded hollow, defeated. The cascade of absurdities had worn him down. He felt drained, the anger and outrage replaced by a dull exhaustion.

    He patted his lap, and Misty, sensing the cue, looked up from her box with a small mew. She pranced over and hopped into his lap, her purr bringing a faint sense of normality back into his mind.

    ¡°No, Del,¡± Menolly said with a faint smile at the cat. ¡°Stopping time isn¡¯t possible. Let¡¯s just say your world has a limited grasp of the concept. Time can be,¡± she paused, as though searching for the right word, ¡°manipulated.¡±

    ¡°Manipulated?¡± He frowned. The word felt wrong, like it didn¡¯t quite fit.

    ¡°Rather than stopping time, we¡¯ve stepped outside its normal flow, just for a brief period.¡±

    Del closed his eyes, feeling as though he were strapped into a surreal nightmare. Every concept he thought he understood about reality was being upended.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get back on track,¡± Menolly said, her voice cutting through his swirling thoughts. ¡°I know it¡¯s a lot to take in, but try to stay with me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll try, lady,¡± he muttered, ¡°but I¡¯m not making promises.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a start.¡± She smiled faintly. ¡°The Sol monitoring collective is one part of a group that observes worlds where sapient life is developing or has the potential to develop. The purpose is to watch passively and, when the time is right, to intervene as deemed fit.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Del asked, leaning forward. ¡°Intervene?¡±

    ¡°Sometimes a species doesn¡¯t progress past certain developmental stages. In your past, the most successful genotype was the dinosaurs, yet they never developed true sentience. Long before them, another seedling species, very similar to your own, also failed.¡±

    Del¡¯s eyes widened. ¡®Ancient civilisation?¡¯ he thought. Could those crackpot conspiracy theorists have been onto something?

    ¡°By the time of a large asteroid impact, it had already been determined that the Saurons ¨C the dinosaurs, were not going to achieve true sapience. In fact, they were actively preventing other forms of higher intelligence from developing on the planet.¡±

    She paused, her expression unreadable.

    ¡°We did not intervene.¡±

    That simple statement hit Del harder than anything else he¡¯d heard that day, no matter how outrageous.

    ¡°At the moment,¡± Menolly continued, her tone calm but unyielding, ¡°your astronomical observers are unaware that another, even larger asteroid will strike the planet in five years. The rock is already known but is currently considered in a safe near-Earth orbit. Six days before it is expected to pass harmlessly, it will be struck by another smaller, unobserved asteroid and diverted into Earth¡¯s path.¡±

    Del stared at her, dumbfounded. His mouth was dry, and his thoughts tangled in a boiling mess.

    ¡°It will be a massive extinction-level event,¡± she added.

    He tried to respond, opening his mouth, but no sound came out. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as his brain struggled to process the enormity of her words.

    ¡°But¡ª¡± he managed to croak, the single syllable breaking through.

    ¡°You have to do something,¡± he said finally, the words tumbling out in a rush. ¡°You said before you didn¡¯t intervene.¡± He knew he was babbling, his words tripping over themselves, desperate to be expressed.

    ¡°Why tell me? Why not NASA or someone who can do something? I¡¯m just a man, feeling older than my years, wasting away in a shitty little house.¡±

    His voice cracked as the sting of tears rose in his eyes¡ªtears of frustration, worry, and sheer disbelief.

    ¡®Five years?¡¯ Del¡¯s mind almost froze at the enormity of that sentence.

    ¡°Mr Axholm,¡± Menolly said gently. Her eyes, now a deep grey, seemed to carry sadness. ¡°You are not a nobody. As I said before, you are important.¡±

    She moved her chair closer, her voice soft but steady as she placed a hand on his where it gripped the arm of his chair with a force that turned his knuckles white.

    ¡°Intervention is not something undertaken lightly. Mistakes have been made in the past and cannot be repeated.¡±

    She sat back once more and clasped her hands in her lap, a surprisingly human gesture for what she claimed to be.

    ¡°In order for it to be considered, certain criteria must be met.¡± She lifted one finger.

    ¡°First, the race must demonstrate the ability to colonise more than their home world. Humanity is progressing towards this, but it is still years away.¡±

    A second finger rose.

    ¡°Through innovation and invention, the species must prove it can sustain itself without destroying its home planet in the process.¡± She sighed.

    ¡°Humanity is a long way off from this.¡±

    A third finger joined the others.

    ¡°The species must pass through its time of conflict and find ways to co-exist peacefully. In recent history, humanity has come dangerously close to self-destruction on multiple occasions. Had this occurred, no intervention would have taken place. A race determined to destroy itself is simply too dangerous to release into the wider galaxy.¡±

    Finally, the fourth finger lifted.

    ¡°There must be cultural development that includes an understanding of morality. While not every decision will be the right one, they must be made with a sense of what is morally just.¡±

    Del let out a long breath, his head dropping into his hands.

    ¡°So, I guess we¡¯re totally fucked, then,¡± he muttered. ¡°We have nearly made it to Mars¡ªYee bloody hah. But the rest of it? We¡¯re royally buggered.¡±

    He shook his head, raising his gaze to meet her unblinking grey eyes.

    ¡°Why tell me?¡± His voice almost cracked and his eyes glistened with moisture. ¡°I could have gone on happily, enjoying my next five years, then¡ªpoof!¡ªwithout ever knowing or caring that shit was about to get real.¡±

    He reached for his coffee. It was cold again, but it was wet, and his throat was dry. Caffeine wasn¡¯t going to help much, but he needed something. He gulped it down with a small wince at the taste.

    The room was silent for a moment as he processed her words. Menolly waited patiently, understanding his need for time.

    ¡°Mr Axho¡­ Del,¡± she corrected herself. Her voice softened. ¡°As I said, you met the criteria. And that matters more than you know.¡±

    Del wasn¡¯t sure he was really listening anymore. His hand moved absently to stroke Misty, her soft ginger fur a grounding presence against his palm. Her rhythmic purring soothed him in a way he felt he didn¡¯t deserve.

    ¡°How?¡± he asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

    ¡°You are correct in assuming the majority decision was for no intervention.¡±

    He shrugged, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. ¡®Figures.¡¯

    ¡°There was, however, a moderation put in place,¡± she continued. ¡°A chance to prove humanity¡¯s purpose in the future of the Galactic Collective. A specification was devised to find a person¡ªor persons¡ªwho could represent the planet¡¯s potential. So far, you¡ªsingular¡ªhave passed the mark for the first phase.¡±

    A chuckle began to bubble up in Del¡¯s chest, rising uncontrollably until it burst into a full laugh. He struggled to get a grip on himself, his words tumbling out between gasps.

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me,¡± he spluttered, ¡°that of all the arses on this planet, you¡¯re relying on a broken old fart like me?¡±

    His laughter bordered on hysteria, but he managed to rein it in with a deep breath.

    ¡°My dear God,¡± he murmured, the smile slipping from his face. ¡°We really are well and truly fucked.¡±

 Chapter 3 â€“ Problems of reality

    Menolly sat there, quiet and refined, her posture composed as she patiently waited for Del to gather his thoughts and regain control of himself.

    Del had never experienced a panic attack before, and he wasn¡¯t one for hysteria. Drama had always seemed excessive to him, but this?

    Taking hold of that idea, he considered what he really knew about such things. A friend he had once had a mutually convenient relationship with used to suffer from panic attacks. She would start hyperventilating and sweating¡ªprofusely.

    She had told him it felt like her heart was trying to leap out of her throat in those moments, beating faster than an express train. To him, it all seemed a bit, well, melodramatic and, if he was honest, a weak form of attention-seeking when she didn¡¯t want to do something. Over time, it had led to them deciding the relationship wasn¡¯t working. Of course, they had promised to remain friends. He hadn¡¯t seen or spoken to her in over five years.

    This though, was entirely new territory. If Del had his way he would wake up again to a normal Tuesday. Surely, given the circumstances, he deserved a bit of leeway. After all, days like this couldn¡¯t exactly be called typical. ¡®At least I¡¯m holding on better than most would,¡¯ he thought grimly.

    ¡°OK, Del, you¡¯ve got this,¡± he muttered under his breath as he stood, lifting Misty and placing her unceremoniously on the floor. The cat shot him a withering look before stalking off in indignation. Without sparing Menolly a word, he grabbed his mug and strode into the kitchen. He needed to restore some semblance of normalcy. Switching on the kettle, he tossed a slice of bread into the toaster and leaned on the counter, staring blankly ahead as the kettle boiled.

    Minutes later, he returned to his chair with toast in one hand and coffee in the other. Taking a bite, he locked eyes with his uninvited guest.

    ¡°Right, Menolly 90210, or whoever you are,¡± he began through a mouthful of crumbs. ¡°The world is ending, and apparently, I¡¯m some kind of superhero messiah who¡¯s supposed to save humanity.¡±

    She offered a wry smile but remained silent.

    ¡°So, how in hell am I supposed to do that?¡± he pressed.

    Menolly inclined her head slightly, as though recognising he¡¯d passed some unspoken milestone. ¡°The universe as you understand it is far more complex than humanity has yet comprehended,¡± she began. ¡°The Galactic Collective is just one of many overwatch bodies, each responsible for observing and eventually integrating new sapient species into the Overmind.¡±

    Del leaned back, deciding to treat this like a movie¡ªone with a convoluted plot that just so happened to cast him as the protagonist. ¡®Just another twist,¡¯ he thought dryly. ¡®Might as well roll with it until the reel changes.¡¯

    ¡°The Overmind?¡± he asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Is that some kind of high-and-mighty being lording over us and deciding our planet¡¯s fate?¡±

    Menolly¡¯s eyes shimmered faintly, an effect that only added to her otherworldly air. ¡°Something like that, but not quite. The Overmind can be thought of as the creator and keeper of the rules that govern every aspect of existence. The laws of physics, the principles of life¡ªthese are but shadows of the infinite possibilities it manages.¡±

    Del paused mid-chew, then swallowed audibly. ¡°So, it¡¯s some kind of superbeing? Or a god?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°No, Del. Gods are something else entirely.¡±

    ¡®Gods are something else? And she said gods¡ªplural. That¡¯s bound to ruffle a few feathers.¡¯

    ¡°Never had much time for religion myself,¡± he remarked, taking a sip of his coffee.

    ¡°Think of the Overmind as a consciousness,¡± Menolly continued, ¡°one that encompasses and interacts with every integrated and evolved sapient race in subtle yet tangible ways. It is both a tool and a repository of knowledge. It provides commonality and a bridge between species while allowing complete freedom of thought and action within the natural laws it governs.¡±

    Del¡¯s focus began to waver under the weight of her words. Setting his plate aside, he watched idly as Misty darted over to lick the butter from the remnants of his toast.

    ¡°OK,¡± he said at last, ¡°so the galaxy¡¯s full of super-advanced people who¡¯ve passed your tests, and if we manage to do the same, we get tossed into this melting pot? Honestly, it sounds like we¡¯d be better off avoiding the whole thing.¡±

    The thought gnawed at him, dragging his mood down further. ¡®Damn it, with the state the world¡¯s in and all the crap we¡¯ve done¡­ why would anyone want this planet?¡¯

    ¡°Why the hell would the Overmind want to bother with our crap planet anyway?¡± he asked bluntly.

    Menolly tilted her head slightly, her gaze softening in a way that seemed almost human. It left him wondering if there was anything human about her at all. ¡°The Overmind doesn¡¯t judge in terms of good or bad,¡± she replied. ¡°It evaluates potential¡ªwhat a species can become, not what it currently is. Earth¡¯s society is complex, yes. Chaotic, often. But Earth¡¯s humanity possesses a remarkable capacity for adaptation, creativity, and endurance. That is what the Overmind values.¡±

    Del snorted. ¡°Endurance? Sure. Just look at us¡ªbarely surviving, polluting the planet, teetering on the edge of disaster every other day. If we¡¯re so great, why do we keep screwing everything up?¡±

    For a moment, it seemed as though Menolly might agree with him. But when she spoke, her tone was as calm and patient as ever. ¡°It¡¯s not about perfection, Del. It¡¯s about growth. Struggle is part of growth. The Galactic Collective is no utopia. Every civilisation within it has faced its own trials and self-destructive tendencies. Those who evolve beyond those struggles bring something invaluable to the Collective.¡±

    He raised an eyebrow. ¡°And what¡¯s Earth¡¯s contribution? Reality TV and social media addiction?¡±

    Menolly¡¯s faint smile was the first sign of amusement he¡¯d seen from her. ¡°Earth¡¯s creativity, resourcefulness, and resilience. Your culture is vibrant, even if it appears chaotic at times. The Overmind recognises that growth often stems from conflict. Your world may seem broken now, but it is on the cusp of transformation. It just needs a catalyst.¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°And that¡¯s me? A catalyst?¡± Del¡¯s mind flicked back to school science experiments and the chaos they¡¯d often entailed.

    ¡°In a way,¡± she replied, ¡°but more than that. You are a representative. Your actions, not only during the online tests but also in how you¡¯ve handled today¡¯s events, have shown adaptability and resilience. Those traits will be vital if the Collective is to intervene.¡±

    ¡°There are always these ifs, buts, and maybes hanging over everything,¡± Del retorted. ¡°You¡¯re shoving a whole lot of pressure onto my shoulders, and I still don¡¯t think you¡¯ve got the right person.¡±

    ¡°We are confident,¡± Menolly replied, her voice calm. ¡°And we do think you are the right choice.¡±

    ¡°Why, though? I¡¯m a beaten-up man with buggered legs. I saw fifty pass me by some years back, while away my days wasting time and wallowing in nostalgia. What do I bring to the table that some fit, athletic, intelligent youngster couldn¡¯t do better?¡±

    She regarded him steadily, her expression composed. ¡°You are adaptable, free from any unbending dogma, with an open mind showing flexibility and a remarkable strength of will. You also have the willingness to take on board totally alien and new concepts and have shown you can handle pressure.¡±

    Del stared at her, the weight of her words settling uncomfortably on his shoulders. ¡®Me, flexible? Adaptable?¡¯ he thought, a flicker of self-deprecation surfacing. ¡®If she¡¯d seen how long it took me to switch from VHS to DVD, she might reconsider.¡¯

    ¡°Well,¡± he said finally, feeling the sarcasm rise within him, ¡°I guess it¡¯s good to know I¡¯m humanity¡¯s best shot, based on my ability to¡­ what? Wing it?¡±

    Menolly didn¡¯t miss a beat. ¡°Winging it has worked remarkably well for humans so far.¡±

    Del chuckled despite himself. ¡®She got you there, Del,¡¯ he mused.

    ¡°So what happens now? I have to sit some sort of cosmic test? An entrance exam?¡±

    ¡°Not quite, but it is a test,¡± she answered. ¡°It won¡¯t be easy; I¡¯ll be honest with you about that. But as part of the Galactic Collective, I can do a few things to aid you where I can.¡±

    ¡°So, not left completely high and dry, then,¡± he shot back with a sardonic edge.

    Her gaze was unreadable as she replied, ¡°No. That was never the plan. Any test is only valid if the one taking it is provided with at least rudimentary tools to ensure they start on an even playing field.¡±

    ¡°Not quite thrown to the wolves, then¡ªjust almost,¡± Del muttered, shaking his head. ¡°Do I have a chance? Does humanity? Does Earth?¡± A wave of dread rose in his chest, heavy and nauseating. He lowered his head into his hand, closing his eyes briefly. ¡®Make this go away, please,¡¯ he pleaded silently. When he looked back up, Menolly¡¯s gaze pierced his, steady and unyielding, as though she could see straight into his soul.

    ¡°That¡¯s up to you, Del,¡± she said. ¡°If you didn¡¯t have a chance, I wouldn¡¯t be here. Today would never have happened, and in five years¡­ you would have been consigned to the same fate as the rest of your species as your planet played host to the approaching mountain.¡±

    She sighed, and for a moment, Del thought she might actually be human. The illusion was unsettling in its persistence. ¡®If this all turns out to be some twisted nightmare after all¡­ Quit it, Del. This is too damn real for that.¡¯

    ¡°If there was another way, or more candidates had met the criteria, then we would have taken a different path,¡± she continued. ¡°There is also still the chance that others may pass, and you could be joined at a later point. This is by no means impossible.¡±

    ¡°There might be others who pass, then?¡± Del asked hopefully. ¡°How likely is that in reality?¡±

    She was always watching him, studying his every reaction. It was unnerving and strangely comforting at the same time. ¡°Without getting too deep into probability calculations the Collective has undertaken¡­ You are the one person to pass in just over a million who have found the site. Most just passed the page by. Some didn¡¯t. With Earth¡¯s present internet usage, we expect another seven to eight million to find the page over the next three years. After that, the page will be closed, as that will be the point where the final decision will be made. So, there is a slim possibility other representatives will be found.¡±

    Del¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°But why? Why three years? Why didn¡¯t you just make your decision already and either save us or let the cards land where they fall? This still doesn¡¯t really make sense.¡±

    They were the questions he couldn¡¯t let go of. Why interfere? What made it worth doing and why him? Not in a self-pitying way, but in sheer bewilderment at what made him the right choice out of billions.

    ¡°While it¡¯s true,¡± Menolly said, ¡°the Collective monitoring party could well have packed up and left in place automatic systems to record for the archives the end of another potential addition to the universal whole¡­ Most times that would have been the case, as only a small number make it to integration.¡±

    ¡°So why not us?¡± he asked.

    ¡°The majority thought that should be the case,¡± she responded bluntly. ¡°But there was a significant enough minority who felt the potential should not be wasted out of hand, but instead, a slender lifeline offered.¡±

    ¡°Which brings you to me, I suppose.¡± Del shook his head, almost laughing at the absurdity of it all. Earth¡¯s slim lifeline was a broken up grumpy old man.

    ¡°Which brings us to you,¡± she agreed.

    For a while, neither spoke. Menolly¡¯s eyes flickered between blue and grey, the transition so fast it was nearly imperceptible. Del watched the changes with a growing sense of fascination mixed with confusion, the kind that crept up on him when he knew he was out of his depth. He found himself wondering how her mind worked, unable to shake the notion that it was far different from anything he could even conceive.

    The thought brought back memories of his younger years¡ªwhen computers were hulking machines locked away in glass-walled rooms, tended by technicians in white coats. Back then, the idea of a machine that could think, let alone mimic a person, belonged firmly in the realm of science fiction.

    He remembered watching 2001: A Space Odyssey as a boy, the unsettling calm of HAL 9000¡¯s voice as it made life-and-death decisions with chilling indifference. He couldn¡¯t help thinking of Data, he loved Star Trek and that man''s struggle to find his place among a crew of humans stuck in his memory. These stories had once seemed so far removed from reality, yet here he was, in a conversation that felt like the next chapter in their evolution.

    What had started as speculative entertainment had, in his lifetime, edged closer to truth. The laptop on his desk, though a marvel compared to those early mainframes, couldn¡¯t hold a candle to what Menolly might be. Her gaze seemed to pierce through him as though she were analysing more than his words¡ªprocessing his doubts, his fears, even the questions he didn¡¯t dare ask.

    ¡°Are you an android?¡± he asked abruptly, the words escaping before he could stop them. ¡°Are you an android?¡± he asked abruptly.

    She tilted her head, her expression faintly amused by the unexpected question. ¡°I suppose I am close to what you might expect an android to be, but no. I am a construct of the Systarni. We are a race that developed from a civilisation that gradually adapted more and more to mechanical enhancements until, after many millennia, we became what we are now. So, while not an android¡ªthat is to say, an unliving machine¡ªI am more of a cyborg. A melding of the biological and mechanical.¡±

    Del shrugged, his thoughts wandering. ¡®I guess the universe is full of all sorts.¡¯

    ¡°Indeed it is,¡± Menolly replied as if reading his mind. ¡°Although it is surprising how many times striking similarities arise on disparate evolutionary paths.¡± She gestured towards him. ¡°Humans have developed multiple varieties across the universe. I, for example, am part of an offshoot branch of human evolution. This means that the base human form is one of the most widespread.¡±

    Del raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°So why bother with all this? Trying to save one more human species?¡± Del asked, then quickly took a mental step back. ¡°Not that I don¡¯t want that, of course,¡± he added with a half-smile.

    ¡°Because no matter how many differing types of human or other species are inducted into the realm of the Overmind, each brings something unique that adds to the whole. But¡±¡ªshe raised a hand¡ª ¡°we are getting distracted. I need to give you what information I can about your task and integrate you into the Overmind so you can do what you must.¡±

    Although her tone was even, her words carried a sense of finality that settled heavily on Del. There was no mistaking it now. The stakes were high¡ªfar beyond anything he could truly grasp¡ªand yet it was him who had to carry the weight of it all.

    ¡°OK,¡± he said, resignation clear in his voice. ¡°What do I do?¡±

    ¡°For now,¡± she instructed, ¡°sit comfortably and pass me your hand.¡±

 Chapter 4 â€“ The Overmind

    Del opened his eyes, uncertain how much time had passed. Minutes? Hours? It didn¡¯t seem to matter, given the strange, time-warped reality he was apparently in. Menolly was still there, sitting silently, watching him, her gaze steady and inscrutable.

    Then he noticed it¡ªseveral things, in fact. The first, and most glaring, was the absence of pain. At first, it was just a vague awareness, a sense that something was off. But as he shifted slightly, it hit him fully.

    The constant throbbing ache in his legs was gone.

    He flexed his knees cautiously, expecting the usual sharp twinge to remind him of his limits, but there was nothing. He straightened his back¡ªno stiffness, no resistance. For the first time in what felt like years, his joints moved without complaint. The dull throb behind his temples that had been threatening to burst into a migraine? Gone. He ran his tongue over his teeth, noticing that the persistent tenderness of the molar that had been bothering him for months had disappeared.

    Tentatively, he pressed his palms against his thighs, his hands moving to his ribs, his shoulders, even his neck, as if trying to provoke the familiar reminders of age and wear. But no matter how he twisted or prodded, there was only smooth movement, no discomfort.

    The absence of pain was almost unsettling. He had grown so accustomed to its presence, like an old, unwelcome companion, that its sudden departure left a void. It wasn¡¯t just the physical relief¡ªit was the silence it left behind. The constant hum of discomfort that had underscored every moment of his waking life had vanished, leaving him unsure how to react.

    ¡®Bloody hell,¡¯ he thought, shaking his head in disbelief. ¡®What is this, a miracle cure or a hallucination?¡¯

    Rising quickly, Del headed to the bathroom, a growing sense of urgency pushing him forward. As he flicked on the light, the stark brightness flooded the small space, illuminating the familiar figure in the mirror.

    At first glance, it was him¡ªsame grey hair, same weathered face etched with lines that told stories he rarely wanted to revisit. His reflection stared back, unremarkable and utterly ordinary. But as he leaned in closer, scrutinising every detail, unease crept in.

    He looked the same, yet¡­ didn¡¯t.

    The sag in his shoulders that he¡¯d long since stopped trying to correct seemed less pronounced. The dark shadows that had claimed permanent residence under his eyes were softer, less menacing. His skin, though still marked by age, seemed to hold a faint, unfamiliar vitality.

    ¡®Still the same ugly old bastard,¡¯ he thought, the ghost of a wry smile tugging at his lips. Yet, even as he made the joke, a strange sense of detachment clung to him. How could he feel so different¡ªso alive¡ªwhen the face in the mirror insisted nothing had changed?

    He ran a hand through his hair, fingers pausing at his temple as the thought hit him: ¡®This isn¡¯t just feeling better. This is¡­ something else.¡¯

    The silence of the bathroom seemed oppressive, heavy with his unanswered questions. It wasn¡¯t just the absence of pain or the sudden ease in his movements¡ªit was the buzzing at the edge of his awareness, faint but constant, like the low hum of machinery you didn¡¯t notice until it stopped.

    Del tilted his head, straining to listen, though he knew the sound wasn¡¯t external. It was inside him, deep and insistent, like a whisper he couldn¡¯t quite catch. His pulse quickened, a sharp contrast to the calm his body seemed determined to maintain.

    ¡°What the hell is going on?¡± he muttered, his voice hoarse in the quiet. Without waiting for an answer¡ªbecause who the hell would give him one?¡ªhe turned and strode back to the lounge, his unease bubbling into something close to panic.

    As Del returned to the lounge, the faint buzzing persisted, teasing at the edge of his awareness. It wasn¡¯t loud, not in the way an alarm or a siren might demand attention, but it was insistent, like a low hum that refused to be ignored. The more he focused on it, the more distinct it became, a rhythmic pulse just outside the reach of understanding.

    He stopped in his tracks, rubbing his temples as though that might quiet it. It didn¡¯t. If anything, it seemed to grow sharper, almost purposeful, as though it were reacting to his thoughts.

    ¡°What the hell is this?¡± he muttered, the words tinged with irritation and a creeping sense of dread. ¡°Menolly!¡±

    She turned her head slowly, her expression calm, even serene, as though she hadn¡¯t noticed the growing storm in his voice.

    ¡°Menolly, whatever the Overmind¡ªor you¡ªdid, I feel better than I have in years,¡± he said, his tone unsteady. ¡°But there¡¯s this weird buzzing in my head. Did something go wrong when you patched me up? I get fixed up, but now my brain¡¯s fizzling?¡±

    The words spilled out faster than he intended, his unease betraying him. The buzzing wasn¡¯t just in his head anymore; it felt like it was crawling under his skin, alive and sentient.

    ¡®Del,¡¯ he thought bitterly, ¡®master of always managing to fuck things up.¡¯

    ¡°It¡¯s alright, Del,¡± Menolly said, her voice steady and reassuring. ¡°That¡¯s the Overmind. You¡¯ve been integrated into it, and that is its way of notifying you that information is available.¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Her explanation should have been comforting, but it wasn¡¯t. The buzzing still hummed, and the idea of being "integrated" into something he barely understood made his skin crawl. He sat down heavily, his frown deepening.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he said slowly, dragging the word out as though it might stretch his understanding with it. ¡°So, what do you mean by ¡®information¡¯?¡±

    Menolly offered a slight nod, as though she had been waiting for this question. ¡°Let me give you a brief outline of how things work,¡± she said, her tone almost business-like. ¡°The rest you¡¯ll discover as you go along, depending on the choices you make.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Del said, leaning back in his chair, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed his unease. ¡°Hit me.¡±

    Menolly tilted her head slightly, her expression briefly puzzled. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea, Del. I am far stronger than you, and¡ª¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he interrupted, waving a hand. ¡°Not literally. ¡®Hit me¡¯ with the information. It¡¯s just a saying.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± She nodded slightly. ¡°I shall add that to our database.¡± For a moment, her posture shifted, her hands clasping neatly in her lap, and she assumed an air of patient authority, like a teacher preparing to lecture an unruly student. ¡°I told you that the Overmind acts as both a tool and a database of knowledge.¡±

    ¡°As a tool,¡± she continued, ¡°it can monitor your progress, help you analyse situations, and guide you in what you need to do to meet the criteria of your task.¡±

    Del narrowed his eyes slightly. ¡°And how exactly does it do that? Are we talking pop-up messages or... what?¡±

    ¡°It can provide information through mental commands. Simple ones. For instance, think ¡®status,¡¯ and it will display relevant data.¡±

    Del gave her a sceptical look, his brow furrowing. ¡°You¡¯re telling me I¡¯ve got some kind of HUD in my head? That¡¯s ridiculous.¡±

    ¡°Try it,¡± Menolly said, her calm tone unfazed by his scepticism.

    Rolling his eyes, Del decided to humour her. He focused and thought the word status.

    The result was instantaneous. A semi-transparent screen materialised in front of him, floating just within his field of vision. His first instinct was to recoil, his chair scraping against the floor as he jumped back.

    ¡°Holy hells, what the actual¡ª!¡± He waved his hands frantically in front of his face, as if trying to swat away an invisible fly, but the screen remained fixed in place, steady and unyielding no matter which way he turned his head.

    ¡°What the fuck is this?¡± he shouted, his voice climbing an octave.

    ¡°Take a breath, Del,¡± Menolly said, her tone firm but calm. ¡°It¡¯s not dangerous. What you¡¯re seeing is a projection created in your mind¡¯s eye. Your brain is interpreting data from the Overmind and presenting it in a way you can easily understand.¡±

    Del blinked rapidly, the screen still stubbornly present. ¡°Easily understand? It¡¯s like having a bloody spreadsheet stapled to my face!¡±

    ¡°Focus,¡± she instructed. ¡°Think the word ¡®end,¡¯ or whatever command feels natural to you for closing something. Try it.¡±

    Grumbling under his breath, Del thought end. To his relief, the screen vanished. He exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping as the tension began to ebb. Experimenting, he opened and closed it a few more times, growing more confident with each attempt.

    It wasn¡¯t until the novelty began to wear off that he remembered he hadn¡¯t actually read anything on the screen yet. ¡®Probably just says ¡°scared shitless¡± in big letters anyway,¡¯ he thought dryly.

    Satisfied with his control over the feature, he looked back at Menolly. ¡°Alright, what else can it do?¡±

    ¡°There are several common commands,¡± she said, slipping back into her instructive tone. ¡°For example, ¡®log¡¯ will update you on your recent actions and progress. ¡®Status¡¯ can also provide details on your physical condition, your possessions, and even equipment. It helps you monitor for wear and tear, ensuring nothing critical fails at an inconvenient time. There is also ¡®identify¡¯ to give you any available information on people and objects¡±

    He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Convenient. I can see ¡®identify¡¯ being useful. I think I get the gist, but walk me through it.¡±

    ¡°Identify allows you to analyse objects, creatures, or even individuals,¡± Menolly explained. ¡°It pulls data from the Overmind¡¯s vast database and presents what is known. However, it has limits. It won¡¯t provide much information about anything significantly more powerful than you. That data will remain obscured.¡±

    Del scratched his chin thoughtfully, his mind already racing with possibilities. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s give it a go.¡±

    Glancing at Misty, now curled up in her box, Del thought, Identify.

    Words appeared in front of him:

    Cat: Misty, your companion.

    Level: 1

    Agile and stealthy.

    Strengths: Dexterity, agility.

    Weaknesses: Intelligence, wisdom.

    Attacks: Pounce, bite, rake.

    Skill: Charm person.

    Satisfied, he turned his gaze to Menolly and tried again.

    Systarni Bipedal Construct: Menolly 14711

    Affiliation: Galactic Collective.

    Level: ???

    Strengths: Unknown.

    Weaknesses: Unknown.

    Attacks: Unknown.

    Skills: Unknown.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s not very helpful,¡± Del muttered, eyeing the vague profile the system had provided for Menolly. ¡°So, you¡¯re a bit of a mystery woman, then?¡±

    ¡°As I said, Del,¡± Menolly replied with calm precision, ¡°identify won¡¯t reveal much about anything significantly stronger than you. The more powerful something is, the less you¡¯ll know.¡±

    ¡°Convenient,¡± he said dryly, leaning back in his chair. ¡°Alright, what else?¡±

    Menolly¡¯s posture straightened, her movements almost imperceptibly mechanical, as though gearing up for the final phase of a well-rehearsed presentation. ¡°We are almost done.¡±

    Del crossed his arms, his weariness leaking into a sardonic mutter. ¡°I sure am.¡±

    Her sharp gaze pinned him in place. ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°Nothing, nothing,¡± Del said quickly, waving a hand dismissively. He felt like a schoolboy caught passing notes in class. ¡°So, what now?¡±

    Menolly¡¯s expression shifted subtly, her features hardening as she spoke. ¡°A straightforward decision,¡± she began, her tone steady and deliberate. Her piercing eyes seemed to look straight through him, as though assessing more than just his words.

    ¡°In order for a full assessment to be made regarding your species,¡± she continued, ¡°you need to prove its merits in a number of ways¡ªadaptability, initiative, morality, and so on.¡±

    Del frowned, her words pressing against him like the weight of an invisible judgment. ¡°And how do I do that?¡± he asked, his voice tinged with irritation.

    Her expression didn¡¯t waver, her eyes locking with his in a moment of unnerving stillness. Then, with almost clinical detachment, she delivered her answer:

    ¡°Simple, really, Del.¡±

    The pause that followed felt deliberate, heavy with unspoken implications. It stretched between them, the silence amplifying the impact of what was to come.

    ¡°Survive.¡±

 Chapter 5 â€“ Choices

    ¡°Survive.¡±

    The single word hung in the air like a thunderclap.

    Del blinked, caught off guard by its stark simplicity. His brain scrambled for meaning, trying to parse the layers of ambiguity behind the command. ¡°Survive? That¡¯s it?¡± he asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and frustration.

    Menolly inclined her head slightly, her calm demeanour unshaken. ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± she confirmed.

    Del leaned forward, the weight of her words pressing him down. ¡°And what happens if I don¡¯t?¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer immediately. Instead, her gaze softened¡ªjust slightly¡ªthough the edge of her composure remained razor-sharp. ¡°If you don¡¯t survive,¡± she said quietly, ¡°there will be no further need for assessment.¡±

    The cold finality of her statement sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn¡¯t a threat. It was a fact.

    ¡°Well,¡± Del said finally, his voice tight with forced humour, ¡°nothing like a bit of pressure to get me motivated, eh?¡± He managed a shaky laugh, though it felt hollow, even to him.

    Menolly didn¡¯t respond. She simply watched, her silence heavier than any words she might have spoken.

    ¡°Care to elaborate? Like, survive what? About my only survival ability centres on getting successfully through the monthly trip to the supermarket.¡±

    That actually drew a small laugh from Menolly, a sound both unexpected and disarming.

    ¡°I can assure you that you are unlikely to face a shopping trolley challenge,¡± she responded. Her tone shifted back to business as she continued, ¡°First, you need to make a decision, and that will determine the first part of your assessment trial. Then things can begin. You¡¯ll be sent to a place where it will take place.¡±

    ¡°Hold on,¡± Del interrupted. ¡°What place? If I¡¯m going somewhere, then how long? I have a cat, in case you hadn¡¯t noticed.¡±

    As if on cue, Misty stretched languidly and wandered over to her bowl, her movements perfectly timed to underscore her importance.

    ¡°I can¡¯t leave her for more than a couple of hours, or she gets feisty,¡± Del added, watching his cat with fond exasperation.

    Menolly glanced at Misty before tilting her head slightly upward. Her eyes flickered rapidly for a few seconds, an unsettling display that hinted at some internal calculation.

    ¡°We can accommodate Misty so she can go with you,¡± Menolly said. ¡°It will only require a small adjustment to the parameters, and she may be of use in aiding your task.¡±

    Del turned to look at his cat. Normally, Misty¡¯s greatest contribution to his life involved devouring anything remotely edible and shedding an impressive amount of ginger fur.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s my task, then?¡± he asked, redirecting his attention to Menolly.

    ¡°As I said, Del, you have a choice to make. One of a selection of three possible locations. Depending on the search for other representatives, you may only need to visit one location, or you may need to go to others.¡± She shrugged, a surprisingly human gesture that caught him off guard.

    ¡°At this time, we can¡¯t know. But until the Collective either decides you have proved or failed to prove the suitability of your species, the assessment shall go on.¡±

    ¡®No pressure, then, Del. Surely someone else is better than me for this shit,¡¯ he thought, the weight of his inadequacy settling heavily on his shoulders.

    ¡°Go on,¡± he said dryly.

    ¡°You need to choose one of either past, present, or future.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Del asked. ¡°A bit more to go on might be nice.¡± The sarcasm in his voice rose, competing with his growing irritation and confusion.

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you much or what the Overmind will be looking for specifically,¡± Menolly replied, her eyes softening with what looked like compassion. ¡°We just don¡¯t know. What I can tell you is that you will, from time to time, be notified of a cuvat.¡±

    ¡®A what now?¡¯ Del¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Pardon?¡± he asked aloud. ¡°What the hell is that?¡±

    ¡°Think of it as a path, a direction. Sometimes it may be direct, such as ¡®go here and do this.¡¯ Other times, it may be more cryptic or obscure,¡± she explained.

    ¡°Once you begin, you will be able to find and review cuvats in your log.¡±

    ¡°So, a quest,¡± Del said. ¡°Why not just say that?¡±

    Menolly smiled faintly. ¡°Similar, yes, but not quite. A cuvat is a direction from the Overmind. You may well find yourself given jobs or tasks to do as you interact with the people around you. These, you may think of as quests. Sometimes one or more quests may be important in completing a cuvat.¡± She shrugged again. ¡°Other times, not.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll figure it out,¡± Del said, patting his lap to call Misty. The cat obliged, curling into his lap with a low purr. Fur and purrs were always a good relaxant, helping him keep his head straight.

    ¡°A simple way to think of it is that a cuvat, though it may not be obvious in what way, will directly provide information to the Overmind and further the assessment one way or another. But not all cuvats will necessarily move your case closer to intervention. Some may even have the opposite effect. Their purpose is to allow the Overmind to directly understand the complexity of a species¡ªall of it, good and bad.¡±

    ¡®As if my life wasn¡¯t complicated enough,¡¯ Del thought bitterly.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s this past, present, future BS all about?¡± he asked.

    ¡°That is the choice you need to make,¡± Menolly answered. ¡°I can provide you with some limited information to help, but most will be for you to discover as you go along.¡±

    She flicked her hand, and an image appeared beside her in thin air.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    Del startled. ¡°What the fuck!¡±

    The image floated, clear and semi-translucent, with no visible screen or projection source. It depicted a grassy hill rolling down towards a stream. The scene rotated as though a camera was panning, revealing the edge of a wood and a herd of unusual deer grazing nearby.

    ¡°Some people of your species have theorised that, before recorded history, another ancient civilisation existed. They were right¡ªsort of,¡± Menolly said, her tone carrying a hint of amusement.

    ¡°I have told you that your scientists do not yet understand correctly how time works. This, in some way, relates to the period you see depicted.¡±

    With a motion, she directed the image to glide over the landscape, the perspective shifting as though guided by a drone.

    ¡°This is your planet''s past, before the Saurons¡ªdinosaurs, you call them¡ªrose. And it will be the time you will have to negotiate and survive if you choose past.¡±

    As the image continued to glide over the landscape, a small village came into view in the distance.

    ¡°The people are very similar to your species during what you might think of as the early Saxon period,¡± Menolly explained. ¡°However, they have existed for over three millennia, so expect some inconsistencies with your knowledge of history. Myth and legend always have an essence of truth to them¡ªa genetic memory, if you like. Your species has a fount of myth and legend, much of it rooted in this distant past.¡±

    Del laughed. ¡°My knowledge of history is what I had for breakfast yesterday and maybe some addled memories of punk rock and the miners¡¯ strikes. To be fair, I spent most of that time pretty hammered.¡±

    ¡°Then you won¡¯t have any preconceived ideas,¡± she replied with a small smile.

    The image shifted, now showing a sprawling city. It wasn¡¯t a place Del recognised, though his limited travel experience hardly made him an expert. At first glance, it could have been any typical urban sprawl¡ªovercrowded, chaotic, and layered with a veneer of grime that seemed universal to cities.

    ¡°This is your planet now, and yet not,¡± Menolly said. ¡°Timelines split and branch, and this is one of those branches. It experiences many of the same controversies and complexities as your own society, but in ways that differ significantly. The path their civilisation has taken leads to some disconcerting differences cloaked in a veneer of familiarity.¡±

    Before Del could comment, the screen flickered again, this time revealing something far more unsettling.

    ¡®What the bejesus¡ª¡¯ Del jumped in his seat, startling Misty, whose claws sank into his leg.

    The new image was bleak¡ªa city of towering ruins collapsed into desolation. The sky churned with an angry reddish-brown hue, flashes of lightning illuminating the rain that pelted the wreckage. Scattered among the debris were ragged shanty-style tents, barely holding together against the wind and rain. A handful of people scurried cautiously through the ruins, while others sat listlessly under the tattered remains of their shelters.

    ¡°Is that really Earth?¡± Del asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

    ¡°An alternate timeline,¡± Menolly confirmed. ¡°But yes. Your own timeline ends in five years without intervention. This is from a timeline where the asteroid strike never happened and there was, no need for us to become involved.¡±

    ¡°So you are saying, that if it wasn¡¯t for the potential of a big fuck off rock to destroy Earth,¡± I take a breath. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t be having this conversation, and we would still manage to completely bugger our planet anyway?¡±

    ¡°You are correct.¡± Was her simple, blunt response.

    ¡®Hmph, blunt but¡­ damn. OK, decision time, Del.¡¯

    ¡°So those are my choices, then,¡± Del sighed, running a hand through his hair. ¡°To be honest, Menolly, the choice makes itself. I¡¯ve had enough of the shit our world is in just now to not want to face another version that might even be worse.¡±

    Menolly¡¯s lips curved into a faint smile. ¡°I didn¡¯t say worse; I said different.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, semantics, lass. And as for that last one¡ªno, just one big ¡®fuck off¡¯ nope.¡±

    ¡°Bear in mind, Del,¡± she reminded him, her tone measured, ¡°you may well end up facing those other two at a later point¡ªor even other challenges I don¡¯t yet have information on. I can tell you that the decision you make now forms the basis of your first cuvat. The Overmind is already assessing you and refining its data on your species.¡±

    ¡°Big Brother is watching me, then. Damn Orwell for poking his nose into things,¡± Del muttered with a half-smile.

    ¡°My only reservation with choosing the past is I have no idea how to survive without a supermarket or freezer.¡±

    With a flick of her hand, the horror show of the ruined future disappeared.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Del,¡± Menolly said. ¡°In the same way the Overmind dealt with your injuries and health issues during integration, prior to entering a phase, you will be given the basic tools you need to make a start. It¡¯s hard to explain without showing you, but it will become clear when you begin.¡±

    ¡°What happens here when I¡¯m gone?¡± Del asked, his tone softening. ¡°I don¡¯t have family, but I do have a few friends who might wonder¡ªor worry. And my house?¡±

    Menolly¡¯s expression turned reassuring. ¡°Social media, Del,¡± she said. ¡°We will create some posts saying how, feeling bored, you¡¯ve gone travelling for a while, and follow up with occasional pictures. I am sure you will enjoy touring the world¡ªvicariously, at least.¡±

    Del chuckled. ¡°Never did make a bucket list, but there are definitely places I wish I¡¯d got to see. I might even get jealous of myself.¡±

    ¡°And we shall secure your home,¡± Menolly continued, ¡°so you don¡¯t have to worry about anything back here.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s it, then?¡± Del asked, exhaling slowly, the weight of the moment settling heavily on his chest. ¡°Three years to persuade Big Brother this sorry cesspit is worth saving. It¡¯s a really messed-up place with some total arseholes making up a large chunk of it. But it¡¯s ours, and I¡¯d rather it not get cracked like an egg.¡±

    The words lingered in the air, raw and unvarnished, but they rang true. Del leaned back, his thoughts churning like the storm clouds he could almost see gathering in the corners of his mind. The world wasn¡¯t perfect¡ªfar from it. The daily grind of it could be maddening, but it was still his world.

    He thought about his quiet neighbourhood, the unremarkable streets he walked every day. The familiar faces of the old couple from number seven, always out pruning their garden. The boy who delivered the local paper, even if it was only once a week. It was a small, predictable bubble of life, but even there, humanity¡¯s contradictions showed themselves. Sure, you¡¯d get someone who left their bins out for days or blared their music late at night, but you¡¯d also see neighbours pitching in when someone¡¯s fence blew down in a storm or offering a kind word when things got rough.

    ¡®Three years to prove we¡¯re worth saving,¡¯ he thought, the enormity of it pressing down on him like a lead weight. Could he, one man, really convince some all-powerful entity that humanity deserved another chance?

    His stomach churned, that uncomfortable tingle racing up his spine as his pulse quickened. Fear clawed at the edges of his resolve, but it wasn¡¯t alone. Beneath the dread, a strange excitement buzzed, sharp and electric. It wasn¡¯t just adrenaline¡ªthough that played its part. It was something deeper: the possibility of doing something that mattered.

    He chuckled softly, shaking his head. The sheer absurdity of it was almost laughable. Him, Del, the guy who¡¯d spent the better part of the last decade plodding along, surviving from day to day, suddenly thrust into the centre of humanity¡¯s last-ditch effort at survival.

    A life of dull monotony, and now¡ªthis.

    ¡°Bloody hell,¡± he murmured, running a hand through his hair. ¡°I always wanted to make a difference¡­ just didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be the bloody poster boy for the species.¡±

    ¡®Tuesdays are never normally this exciting, mate,¡¯ Del mused. ¡®Or is it Thursday? Thursdays are fun.¡¯

    ¡°That¡¯s the final thing to explain to you, Del,¡± Menolly said, standing and stepping toward his chair. Her calm, measured voice seemed at odds with the storm of thoughts in his mind. ¡°Time¡ªit works differently for this. Three years here could feel far longer in your experience. Certainly, you have a deadline, but I can¡¯t tell you exactly when that deadline is. So be smart and stick to task, whatever that may be.¡±

    Del nodded absently, his gaze drifting to the floor. The thought of time stretching unpredictably was unnerving, but it was just one more thing in a rapidly growing list of unknowns. ¡®No point overthinking it now,¡¯ he thought. ¡®I¡¯ll figure it out when I get there¡­ or I won¡¯t.¡¯

    Menolly crouched, scooping Misty up from where she had been sprawled out on the floor. The cat protested with a half-hearted meow before settling into Del¡¯s lap, her warmth grounding him in the moment. He scratched absently behind her ears, drawing a contented purr that somehow made the whole situation feel both surreal and oddly mundane.

    Menolly¡¯s hand reached toward him, her movement slow and deliberate, and touched his forehead.

 Chapter 6 â€“ Itâ€™s better not being dead

    The darkness enveloped him.

    Not black, but a deep greenish-brown, like the murky depths of a brackish lake at night. Del tried to look around, to move, to turn. The signals he sent from his mind to his body met with nothing. No response.

    ¡®What the hell is going on?¡¯ he thought, frustration prickling his awareness.

    Had he died? The question lingered, unbidden. He didn¡¯t remember dying, but something felt¡­ off. He was fairly certain he was sitting. It felt like sitting, though he had no actual awareness of a body. Normally, the sensation of existence was constant: skin against fabric, feet on the ground, or the firm press of a chair. But here, there was nothing.

    No ground beneath him. No fabric brushing his skin. Just absence.

    Except¡­

    ¡®What the heck is that?¡¯ he mused.

    There was a pressure¡ªslight, but distinct¡ªresting on what should have been his lap. A lap he wasn¡¯t even sure existed anymore. The anomaly stood out in the void, a solitary disruption in the nothingness.

    ¡®So, Del, has the grim reaper finally got your sorry arse?¡¯ he wondered, surprised by the absence of panic. It was odd. Shouldn¡¯t he be panicking? He tried to conjure the feeling, but nothing came.

    It was strange to contemplate death without the burden of emotion. The idea of being dead should have been terrifying¡ªshouldn¡¯t it? A primal part of him ought to be screaming, ¡®This is it, Del! Game over!¡¯ But instead, there was¡­ nothing. No fear, no sadness, no regrets. Just an empty space where panic might once have lived.

    ¡®Maybe that¡¯s the perk of the long sleep,¡¯ he thought, his tone wry even in his head. ¡®No baggage, no emotional hangover. Just a nice, clean void. How thoughtful.¡¯

    Still, the concept lingered, dry and clinical. What does being dead even mean? Was this all there was? An endless, featureless void until some cosmic janitor came to sweep him away? Would he unravel bit by bit, fading into the nothingness, like some existential old sock left too long in the wash? Or was there something more? A journey to some grand afterlife? Maybe even a rebirth?

    ¡®Or maybe the grim reaper just has a terrible sense of direction and left me here by accident.¡¯ The thought brought a twitch of humour, though he couldn¡¯t tell if he was grinning. Without a face, could you even grin?

    ¡®Would I care if I knew?¡¯ he wondered, bemused by his detachment. ¡®No fear, no guilt, no anger. Is this peace, or just the universe¡¯s way of saying ¡°Don¡¯t call us; we¡¯ll call you¡±?¡¯

    Time ebbed and flowed, intangible and meaningless in the void. Was it a moment? An hour? A lifetime?

    ¡®Am I breathing?¡¯ The question was practical. Logical, even. He tried to take a breath. Nothing. No movement. No air. No body to perform the task.

    ¡®Figures,¡¯ he thought wryly. ¡®No body, no breathing. Well done, Del, sharp as ever.¡¯

    Ahead, the darkness began to brighten. A soft, expanding light crept into the void, persistent and slow.

    ¡®So, is it ¡°walk to the light¡± or ¡°don¡¯t go into the light¡±?¡¯ The familiar phrase brought a chuckle, surprising him with its clarity. He didn¡¯t think dead people were supposed to chuckle, but apparently, rules didn¡¯t apply here.

    Walking wasn¡¯t an option. Without a body, he wasn¡¯t going anywhere. The light grew steadily until, with a sudden whoosh, it filled the space around him. His heart hammered in his chest, and adrenaline surged through his veins.

    ¡®Heart¡ªyup, heart¡¯s good,¡¯ he thought, his mind ticking through a checklist of basic functionality. ¡®Breathing? Breathing is definitely back on the table. OK, Del, not dead. Not dead is absolutely the best thing.¡¯

    A soft mew broke his concentration. He glanced down¡ªor what passed for down¡ªand felt a nudge against his hand. Misty. Her nose bumped him, grounding him in a way he hadn¡¯t realised he needed. Absently, he stroked her head, the movement comforting them both.

    Now it clicked¡ªthe slight pressure he¡¯d felt in the darkness, the only tangible part of the void. ¡®So that was you, eh, furball?¡¯ he thought, lips quirking in a faint smile. ¡®I¡¯m glad you came along for the ride.¡¯

    Menolly¡¯s words came rushing back, and a scowl crossed his face. ¡°Damnit, lady. You could have warned me,¡± he muttered.

    He glanced around. A chair supported him, but the surrounding space was¡­ odd. There were no walls, no windows, no floor. It wasn¡¯t a room in the traditional sense, just an expanse that felt vaguely room-like.

    ¡°Hello?¡± he called, his voice uncertain.

    For a moment, there was silence. Then an androgynous voice responded, ¡°Choose your path.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Three-dimensional images¡ªholograms, perhaps¡ªmaterialised before him. They began to rotate, shifting and moving with a hypnotic grace.

    ¡®OK, Del, let¡¯s try logic,¡¯ he thought, then scoffed. ¡®Yeah, like that¡¯s ever been my thing.¡¯

    ¡°What path?¡± he asked aloud. ¡°A bit more explanation might be nice.¡±

    ¡°Your path will be the guiding approach you choose to use in interacting with this world,¡± the voice replied.

    ¡°What if I choose wrong?¡±

    ¡°There is no incorrect choice. All choices are valid and differ only in their approach to unfolding events.¡±

    ¡®Why does it sound so much like a damned machine?¡¯ Del thought, irritation prickling. Menolly, whatever she had been, had felt human. This voice felt hollow.

    ¡°Would it be too much trouble to explain my choices in a little more detail?¡± he quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

    An image appeared¡ªa warrior, armed with sword and shield. The figure demonstrated fluid, practised movements: swings of the blade, precise blocks, intricate footwork.

    ¡°The fighter,¡± the voice intoned. ¡°Capable with multiple weapon types or none at all.¡± The image shifted to a brawler, fists swinging. ¡°Able to use most armour types and can specialise in particular styles as experience grows.¡±

    Del watched, unimpressed. ¡®Up front and getting bashed¡ªand that looks far too energetic,¡¯ he mused, shaking his head. ¡®My back aches just thinking about it.¡¯

    The image dissolved, replaced by a figure in lighter clothing holding a bow. It nocked an arrow, releasing it with precision. Quickly, it drew a knife, crouching low to move stealthily.

    ¡°The archer, also sometimes known as a ranger, is adept at attacking from a distance but also skilled in stealth. They can sneak up on targets or extract themselves from dangerous situations. Some variations specialise in finding and disarming traps. Rogues excel in discovering secrets and navigating hidden depths.¡±

    ¡®Sneaky little bastard. Now that, Del, could be fun.¡¯

    The figure faded, and another took its place¡ªa robed figure wielding a staff. Lightning erupted from an orb atop the staff as it thrust forward.

    ¡°Mages, wizards, warlocks. All are terms for those who wield elemental forces. While all paths interact with nature¡¯s forces to some degree, mages are their masters. They begin weak, their path slow and fraught with challenges, but those who survive wield great power.¡±

    Del tilted his head. ¡®What is it they say about power and responsibility?¡¯ He shrugged. ¡®Then again, zapping things could be fun.¡¯

    ¡°You say there¡¯s no wrong path,¡± Del said, his tone edging on sardonic, ¡°but at the same time, I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m supposed to be doing.¡±

    The voice hesitated, as if processing. Could a disembodied machine sound puzzled? If so, this one was giving it a good shot.

    ¡°Menolly 14711 informed you of this prior to transferring you.¡±

    ¡°She did?¡± he asked, frowning.

    ¡°You are to survive,¡± it said bluntly. ¡°As you live and experience events in this place, you will be monitored. Your decisions and actions will be observed, analysed, and used in the Overmind¡¯s assessment of the potential place your species may have within the greater whole.¡±

    ¡®Del, have you ever wondered what a lab rat feels like?¡¯

    ¡°So, no great quest to slay a dragon or rescue a princess, then?¡± he asked dryly, tilting his head as if to mockingly await a dramatic revelation.

    ¡°Why would you want to slay a dragon?¡± the voice asked, now definitely puzzled. ¡°I would not recommend this action, as it would likely result in you failing the primary task: to survive.¡±

    There was a pause, as though the voice were recalibrating.

    ¡°I am also unaware of any royalty in need of rescuing at this moment in time. This may, however, change, as world events are ever dynamic in nature.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so just survive,¡± Del stated flatly. ¡°How long for? A week, a month, a year? We¡¯ve got a bit of a deadline going on back on Earth, you know.¡±

    ¡°The Overmind will determine the length of time required, depending on how it proceeds in its assessment. Time for your trial runs differently, and you may be there for a short or long time. However, time in your home world stream will not exceed one year in total.¡±

    One year. He mulled that over, running his tongue along his teeth as if it would help him digest the information. ¡®Right. Simple enough, Del¡ªjust survive. What could possibly go wrong?¡¯

    He shifted his thoughts to the choices at hand. The fighter option was an easy no. He wasn¡¯t keen on being the one up close and personal with big, bitey monsters and only a bit of metal between him and their teeth. Too much effort. Too much sweat. And far too many ways to end up dead.

    That left shooting things¡ªeither with arrows or spells. From a distance.

    ¡®That¡¯s the main thing, Del. Distance is your friend.¡¯ He considered this for a moment, then amended his thought. ¡®Of course, nothing says they can¡¯t throw rocks a long way or shoot arrows back.¡¯

    The more he thought about it, the clearer it became that he was entirely out of his depth. What did he know about rangers or mages? Sweet bugger all, he realised. He¡¯d never been much of a gamer. He¡¯d tried archery once as a teenager and remembered it mostly involved missing the target. He¡¯d watched Lord of the Rings years ago and vaguely recalled getting angry at the final season of Game of Thrones, but none of that qualified him to wield mayhem and magic.

    ¡°What happens once I¡¯ve made my decision?¡± he asked, trying to steer himself away from the mental spiral of inadequacy.

    ¡°Menolly 14711 gave you basic information on how to interact with the Overmind,¡± it said. ¡°If you accessed your status, you would have seen a basic flat set of values across the board.¡±

    ¡®Status.¡¯ The word prompted a flicker of memory. He focused, and an image popped up in his mind¡ªa status screen showing his name, that he was a level 1 human, and that he had no skills. ¡®Nice to see I¡¯m so talented,¡¯ he thought wryly, noting the row of 10s across all attributes. He dismissed it with a thought.

    ¡°Choosing your path will cause the status to adjust to fit the role you have chosen,¡± the voice continued. ¡°I will then also give you a basic run-through of how it works in relation to you and what you can do.¡±

    ¡°So, not quite hitting the ground screaming, then,¡± he quipped.

    ¡°Alright then¡ªwhat do I call you?¡± he asked after a moment. It suddenly felt important. Having a disembodied voice floating around was one thing, but if he was going to have it in his head for however long, it needed a name.

    ¡®Not that I am a stranger to annoying voices filling my damned head¡¯

    ¡®Quit complaining, Del. You enjoy the voices in your head! If you didn¡¯t talk to yourself, you¡¯d have nobody to argue with.¡¯

    The voice responded with typical neutrality. ¡°I have no specific moniker. I am simply the tutor bot assigned to your trial. If it will aid you, you may give me a reference that you prefer.¡±

    ¡°In which case, you are now ¡®Teach,¡¯¡± Del said with a faint smile. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was better than nothing.

 Chapter 7 â€“ Teach does teaching

    Del studied the three rotating holograms carefully as if they could hold the answers to this problem. He was out of luck there, unfortunately.

    ¡°Alright, Teach, the fighter guy is out. I really can¡¯t see myself doing that swordy stuff,¡± Del said, shaking his head.

    ¡°Now, while being a bit of a Gandalf could be fun, it strikes me as very loud and attention-grabbing,¡± he continued, his fingers tapping absently on his leg. ¡°And I really want to avoid attention if I can. Better survival prospects, I think.¡± He nodded to himself. ¡°Decision made, Teach, my old chum.¡±

    He looked up at one of the images floating in front of him, the figure holding a bow.

    ¡°Just call me Robin Hood,¡± he laughed, the joke easing the tension in his chest.

    There was a pause.

    ¡°Your name is Del Axholm. Would you like to change the status of your name to Robin Hood?¡± Teach asked.

    Del let out another laugh. ¡°No, Teach, leave my name. That was a joke¡ªnever mind, it¡¯s not important, and jokes never work if they need explaining.¡±

    ¡°In which case, Del, I shall update your status to reflect your path choice.¡±

    For a moment, something felt off. It wasn¡¯t pain exactly, but his body felt¡­ strange, like it wasn¡¯t entirely his. A twist in his gut, a faint tingling in his limbs. Then it passed, leaving him feeling subtly different. Stronger, maybe? More flexible?

    ¡°Um, Teach,¡± he said cautiously, ¡°are things supposed to be going on in my body? It feels damned weird.¡±

    ¡°Adjustments are being made,¡± the voice intoned. ¡°Adjustments complete.¡±

    ¡®I miss Menolly; at least she didn¡¯t sound so mechanical,¡¯ he thought with a faint grumble. ¡°I guess that¡¯s a yes, then,¡± he said aloud. ¡°Alright, Teach, teach me.¡±

    ¡°A status is unique to every being within the purview of the Overmind,¡± Teach explained. ¡°You can only call up and see your own status and, as you have a companion, that of your feline.¡±

    ¡®Status.¡¯ He focused, and the screen appeared before his mind¡¯s eye again. His name, level, and path were listed at the top: Level 1 Human, no skills beyond the basics. ¡®Nice to see I¡¯m so talented,¡¯ he thought, smirking at the row of numbers, no longer 10''s all-round. He decided to examine the screen properly later and dismissed the screen with a thought, bracing for more of Teach¡¯s explanation. ¡°Your name, level, and path are at the top,¡± Teach continued. ¡°If you are currently using an alias or hidden identity, it would also be shown here.¡±

    ¡°Hold up,¡± Del interrupted. ¡°Level? What¡¯s that all about?¡±

    ¡°Have you ever played games¡ªcomputer type or role-playing style?¡± Teach asked.

    Del thought for a moment. ¡°Nope, can¡¯t say it was ever something that appealed to me. I had a guy at work who kept inviting me to games nights, but not my type of thing, so I never went. Why?¡±

    ¡°When a species is undergoing monitoring for potential integration, various mechanisms are introduced gradually. Often these will be in the form of games and activities that embody systems used by the Overmind. These are designed to add basic concepts to the subconscious knowledge base of the species, making integration, should it happen, smoother and less disruptive.¡±

    ¡®Hmph, makes sense, I guess,¡¯ Del mused. ¡®Closest I ever got to one of those games was ignoring ads on social media.¡¯

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± he said aloud. ¡°Consider me a complete idiot in terms of my knowledge.¡±

    ¡°Levels 0 to 3 are basic beings, which make up the largest number of sentients in the Overmind. Level 4 would be the equivalent of somebody with a well-honed body, such as a sportsman or combat specialist. Level 5 would generally be the elites of any unintegrated world.¡± Teach explained. ¡°The primary way to increase level is through interaction with the environment. Often, this involves besting opponents, whether animal or sentient. This gains experience, and as thresholds are reached, your level will increase.¡±

    ¡°Are you telling me it¡¯s truly a dog-eat-dog cosmos full of conflict?¡± Del asked, taken aback. He hadn¡¯t expected harmony and light, but neither had he envisioned a galaxy running on unbridled killing.

    ¡°Not necessarily, Del,¡± Teach replied. ¡°While rising through strength is a fundamental truth of all sentient life, there are other paths. A crafter can advance through creation, a diplomat through successful negotiation. The key is to advance by finding and following your own path.¡±

    ¡°Why wasn¡¯t I given those options?¡± he asked, irritation creeping into his voice. ¡°Everything you offered me was a path of combat and conflict.¡±

    There was a pause, as if Teach were considering its answer. ¡°You led a sedentary life¡ªfirst in an office, then limited by disability and pain. Yours was not a life of conflict or real challenge.¡±

    ¡°Had you been given the option of a role as a shopkeeper or crafter¡ªor any of a myriad of other sedentary jobs¡ªwhat would the Overmind have been able to infer from that?¡±

    ¡®I guess it makes sense, but even so,¡¯ Del thought. ¡®All you can do, Del, is give it your best and bugger the consequences.¡¯

    ¡°OK, I assume gaining levels will help me, then?¡± he asked.

    ¡°You are correct. Each level will affect your status. You¡¯ll discover exactly how as you progress.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s next?¡±

    ¡°The status is divided into various fields, all based on your race, path, and level,¡± Teach explained. ¡°Health is exactly what it sounds like¡ªI¡¯d advise against letting this get to zero.¡±

    ¡®Damn, was Teach attempting humour?¡¯

    ¡°Mana powers spells and special attacks, and Spirit is similar, providing energy for resistance-type effects. Healers also rely on Spirit for their work.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡®Healers? I guess that¡¯s like a doctor path.¡¯ His head began to feel foggy. ¡®Damn, there¡¯s a lot to learn, and I¡¯m struggling.¡¯

    ¡°Stamina, Dexterity, and Agility are linked,¡± Teach continued. ¡°The simplest way to think of it is: Stamina affects how long you can run, Dexterity helps you not trip while running, and Agility allows you to turn that trip into a neat roll back onto your feet.¡±

    ¡®Or, in my case, puff-puff, oops-oof,¡¯ Del thought, chuckling to himself.

    ¡°Intelligence is not just how smart you are but also affects how fast you can learn new skills, special moves, or, eventually, spells. With a companion, it¡¯s especially important for communication.¡±

    ¡°Hold up,¡± Del interrupted. ¡°I can talk to my cat like some sort of Dr. Dolittle?¡±

    ¡°I do not know this term, ¡®DoLittle,¡¯¡± Teach responded, ¡°but you will be able to communicate mentally. At first, it will be more about conveying feelings and simple thoughts over short distances. However, as your Intelligence¡ªand especially Misty¡¯s¡ªrises, communication will improve.¡±

    ¡®Well, I¡¯ll be damned,¡¯ he thought, a smile spreading across his face. ¡®I always wondered what that bloody cat was thinking.¡¯

    ¡°If Intelligence is understanding that a thing can be done, Wisdom is understanding if it should be done and anticipating the potential results, for good or ill. Finally, Presence is the impact you have on the world around you. It determines if you¡¯re liked, feared, respected, or mistrusted¡ªbasically, how you¡¯re perceived.¡±

    ¡°Is that all of it?¡± Del asked, feeling his brain start to fog again.

    ¡°Apart from skills, yes,¡± Teach replied. ¡°Skills work in their own tiers or levels. As you use a skill and improve, it may level up. With higher levels, more difficult special skills may become available. You have the basic skills needed to start your path, and you¡¯ll find ways to learn more as you explore.¡±

    I feel the air around me shifting, the space I¡¯m in becoming less tangible, as though reality itself is slipping through my fingers.

    ¡°I will now transport you to Gondowa,¡± Teach announces, its tone as neutral as ever. ¡°This is the land where you shall start your path on the planet known locally as Terras.¡±

    Gondowa. The name sounded strange and foreign. Yet there was something about it¡ªan allure, a promise of the unknown.

    I glance down at Misty, her small frame tucked safely against me. I stroke her fur, letting its softness ground me. ¡°So, Teach,¡± I begin, trying to keep my voice steady, ¡°what am I supposed to expect in Gondowa? Any pointers for a clueless guy trying not to die on his first day?¡±

    Teach hesitates¡ªif such a thing is possible for a disembodied voice. ¡°The land of Gondowa is diverse, with regions of varying climates, cultures, and challenges. Your starting location has been chosen for its suitability to your current level and skills. As an archer, you will begin in a region known as the High Hills. The nearest major town, Hybern and its surroundings will provide ample opportunity for you to develop your abilities.¡±

    ¡°Hybern, huh?¡± I nod, chewing on the name. ¡°Sounds quaint. What are the people like? Should I expect warm welcomes or pitchforks?¡±

    ¡°Hybern¡¯s population is largely human, though other sapient and sentient species can be found throughout the land. Interaction will depend on your actions and choices.¡±

    ¡°Ah, the old ¡®make your choices and live with the consequences¡¯,¡± I note. ¡°But seriously, Teach, if this place has people, creatures, politics, and who knows what else, surely there¡¯s more I should know before being dropped into the deep end.¡±

    ¡°There are limits to what I can reveal, Del,¡± Teach replies. ¡°However, I can assure you that Gondowa is a living world. Events will unfold with or without your intervention, and your choices may influence outcomes. Your primary task remains survival. Everything else is secondary.¡±

    Survival. It always came back to that. I couldn¡¯t help but wonder what kind of life this world offered if merely staying alive was considered an accomplishment.

    ¡°Alright,¡± I say after a moment of silence. ¡°Survival it is. But let me ask you something, Teach. Do people ever¡­ fail?¡±

    There¡¯s a pause before it responds. ¡°Yes, Del. Many do not complete their trials. Some succumb to physical dangers, others to the psychological strain of adaptation. For many, the transition is simply too much.¡±

    I tighten my hold on Misty, her warmth a small comfort in the growing uncertainty. ¡°Comforting,¡± I mutter.

    ¡°However,¡± Teach continues, ¡°your selection was not random. The Overmind evaluates potential candidates based on resilience, adaptability, and untapped potential. You have been deemed capable of succeeding.¡±

    I snort. ¡°You sure you¡¯ve got the right guy? Last I checked, ¡®untapped potential¡¯ wasn¡¯t on my r¨¦sum¨¦.¡±

    ¡°You underestimate yourself,¡± Teach says matter-of-factly.

    I glance at the screen still floating in my mind¡¯s eye. My stats and skills are all there, neatly laid out, quantified like the specs on a cheap smartphone. It¡¯s surreal to think that my life, my survival, could boil down to numbers and levels.

    ¡°So, I¡¯ve got some basic skills¡ªenough to scrape by, I guess,¡± I say, scanning the list again. ¡°But Misty¡­¡± I pause, eyeing her stats with a raised brow. ¡°She¡¯s got more health than I do. Should I be worried that my cat might outlive me?¡±

    Misty mewls softly in response, licking my finger as if to say, Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve got this.

    ¡°Your feline companion has been adjusted to complement your path,¡± Teach explains. ¡°Misty¡¯s skills and attributes are tailored to provide support and defence, ensuring your survival.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± I say, smiling down at her. ¡°Looks like you and I are going on an adventure, girl.¡± She responds with another small mewl, her whiskers twitching.

    The screen fades as I let out a long breath, my mind churning with questions I¡¯m not sure I want answers to. I glance around at the fading space, the light dimming like the slow close of a curtain.

    ¡°Teach,¡± I say softly, ¡°if this is all about survival, then why give me a companion? Why not let me go it alone?¡±

    There¡¯s a faint hum before it responds. ¡°Companionship fosters resilience, Del. The bonds you form may be as critical to your success as your skills. Misty¡¯s presence is not merely functional¡ªit is essential.¡±

    I nod, understanding the logic even as a knot of anxiety tightens in my chest.

    As the darkness begins to envelop me, I think, ¡®Status.¡¯

    The screen lights up one last time, the details scrolling across my mind like a preview of the challenges ahead:

    Name : Del Axholm

    Level : 1

    Path : Archer

    Health : 12

    Strength : 15

    Dexterity : 16

    Stamina : 15

    Intelligence : 11

    Wisdom : 12

    Mana : 5

    Spirit : 6

    Agility : 16

    Presence : 10

    Animal companion: Misty; feline

    Skills:

    Archery lvl 1 ¨C Able to use all manner of handheld bow and crossbow

    Woodcraft lvl 1 ¨C Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.

    Tracking lvl 1 ¨C Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.

    Traps lvl 1 ¨C can make basic snares and pit traps

    Sneak lvl 1 ¨C Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.

    Attacks:

    Bow lvl 1 ¨C Simple Shot

    Dagger lvl 1 ¨C Stab, Slash

    Special Attacks:

    Bow:

    Sneak attack Lvl 1 ¨C Doubles damage

    Dagger:

    Backstab lvl 1 ¨C Double damage

    Name : Misty

    Level : 1

    Path : Feline companion

    Health : 22

    Strength : 8

    Dexterity : 15

    Stamina : 11

    Intelligence : 4

    Wisdom : 6

    Mana : 2

    Spirit : 3

    Agility : 18

    Presence : 12

    Skills:

    Charm lvl 1 ¨C can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.

    Attacks :

    Claw lvl 1 ¨C Attacks with front claws.

    Rake lvl 1 ¨C Double rear leg attack.

    Bite lvl 1 ¨C It¡¯s teeth all the way.

    Special attacks :

    Pounce lvl 1 ¨C Can be used with any or all of the standard attacks. Double damage.

    Sneak Pounce lvl 1 ¨C As above; Triple damage

 Chapter 8 â€“ Goblin

    Del lingered in the hazy state between waking and sleeping, dappled light filtering through his closed eyelids and a gentle breeze brushing against his skin. He could sense the shift in the air. ¡®Must have left the window open,¡¯ he mused. ¡®I hope the damn cat didn¡¯t go out.¡¯

    As he stretched, his arm brushed against soft fur, and gentle snores met his ears. Relief washed over him. He opened his eyes.

    ¡°What the fuck!¡± he exclaimed, a jolt of panic shooting through him.

    Above him wasn¡¯t the familiar ceiling of his room but a canopy of branches and leaves, with the early dawn sky peeking through. Beneath him, a carpet of soft grass replaced his bed, damp with morning dew. Memories came rushing back¡ªMenolly, Teach, the Overmind.

    ¡®So not a dream then, Del,¡¯ he thought as his heartbeat began to steady. ¡®Explains why the damn mattress felt lumpy, I guess.¡¯

    Sitting up, he took in his surroundings. He was in a wooded clearing. Birds sang in the trees, and somewhere in the distance, water rushed over rocks. The grass around him was dotted with flowers, though guessing what they were was beyond him; every houseplant he¡¯d ever owned had suffered a slow, miserable death. The trees loomed tall, their thick trunks supporting branches heavy with broad leaves. The scene felt peaceful, the air scented with spring.

    A prickle on the back of his neck drew his gaze to his side. Misty lay curled up, peering at him through lidded eyes.

    ¡°Hey, girl,¡± he said, reaching out to stroke her fur. She purred softly, and he almost jumped at the faint nudge against his mind. Instinctively, he reached for the sensation, recognising it as Misty¡¯s thought.

    He received a vague impression of hunger and a lazy longing for more sleep. Chuckling, he muttered, ¡®Pretty much what I always imagined her priorities to be.¡¯

    Near his feet lay a small pile of items. He got up and crouched beside them, inspecting what he¡¯d been left with.

    On top of a knapsack rested a bow and a quiver of arrows, both of which seemed rough-hewn to his untrained eye. A belt lay nearby, fitted with one large and one small knife, both in leather scabbards. A coarse rope rounded out the pile.

    Recalling some lessons, he picked up the bow. ¡®Status.¡¯ Nothing happened. ¡®Hmm, details, info, what is it?¡¯ He frowned. Frustration bubbled up. ¡®Dammit, Overmind, all I want to do is identify what this damn bow can do!¡¯

    A screen flickered into view.

    Crude bow: A bow made by an amateur hand. Good for hunting small game as long as it doesn¡¯t move too fast. Keep string dry or replace frequently.

    ¡®I can see you and I are going to need to learn to work together better, Mr Big Brother,¡¯ he groused internally. ¡®Could have at least given me a manual.¡¯ He paused and then laughed aloud.

    ¡®Really, Del? When was the last time you actually read a bloody manual?¡¯ He answered sarcastically.

    Now that he had the knack, he swiftly identified the rest of the items.

    Quiver: Can hold 20 arrows.

    Arrow: Rough-made, with leaf tip and goose feather fletching. Range up to 20 yards. Accurate to 10.

    Hunting knife: Rough steel, heavy hunting knife.

    Skinning knife: Also good for shaving; try not to skin your face.

    ¡®Bloody BB has a sense of humour at least,¡¯ he noted with a wry smile. ¡®BB, hmph, good name for that Big Brother Overmind.¡¯

    He opened the knapsack, rooting through its contents. Inside, he found a water bottle, a bowl for Misty, and food supplies: bread, cheese, and smoked sausage wrapped in greased paper. A couple of apples and a bundle of seeds and nuts were tucked in a cloth. Tools included a leather strop, feathers, half a dozen arrowheads, and a tin containing wood shavings and flint.

    ¡®I guess that¡¯s for fire-making 101 class.¡¯

    Looking down at himself, he realised his clothing had changed too. ¡®Identify.¡¯

    Leather jerkin: Light armour. Gives minimal protection against slashing and piercing damage. Ineffective against concussive damage.

    Leather breeches: Light armour. Gives minimal protection against slashing and piercing damage. Ineffective against concussive damage.

    Basic boots: Light unarmoured footwear. Not too good if you stub your toe.

    Underneath, he wore a crude linen shirt, woollen socks, and something resembling rather itchy undergarments.

    ¡®Right then, Del, better get the day started.¡¯ He packed most of the items into the knapsack, sliced a chunk of bread and cheese, and added a few thin pieces of sausage.

    ¡°Breakfast time, Misty¡ªwakey-wakey, girl,¡± he called. Misty eyed him suspiciously but eventually got up and ambled over.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    Pouring water into her bowl, he added some cheese and sausage to her meal before tucking into his own. The bread, nutty and slightly sweet, paired well with the cheese and meat. He finished with a long drink of water.

    Once Misty had finished, he grabbed her bowl and scanned the area once more, ensuring he¡¯d missed nothing. Turning towards the sound of running water, he set off, Misty trailing behind at her own pace.

    As he walked, Del was starting to notice something. ¡®I feel good,¡¯ he realised, the thought catching him by surprise. ¡®I¡¯m not aching. I¡¯m yomping along, and my body isn¡¯t screaming at me to sit down and swallow some pills.¡¯ A broad smile spread across his face as he noticed a distinct spring in his step.

    ¡°What a glorious mor¡ª¡± His words were cut off by a sharp thunk! A shaft¡ªan arrow¡ªembedded itself in the tree beside him. Instinctively, he dropped to the ground.

    ¡®Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.¡¯ Panic surged through him before he forced himself to focus. Mentally slapping himself, he took a deep breath, calmed his nerves, and carefully scanned the area, pulling his bow from his back.

    A nudge brushed against his mind¡ªMisty. Looking in the direction of the sensation, he spotted her perched on a tree branch above. Her gaze was fixed downward, where a small, rat-faced, green-skinned creature skulked below.

    ¡®Identify.¡¯

    Goblin Scout

    Level: 1

    Aggressive hunters and scavengers.

    Strengths: Dexterity, Stealthy.

    Weaknesses: Being hit with pointy objects.

    Attacks: Bow, short sword, dagger.

    Skill: Hide in Shadows.

    Lore: Usually found in small to medium-sized groups, often family-based. Known to be cowardly in nature; they prefer to run from a fight unless confident in having a distinct advantage.

    Drawing his bow, Del held his breath, aimed, and released. He watched in dismay as the arrow wobbled through the air before burying itself in a bush several feet from the goblin.

    ¡®C¡¯mon, Del, you need to do better than that,¡¯ he muttered, his heart hammering and his palms damp with sweat. ¡®What the hell do I do if I can¡¯t hit him? I¡¯m bloody sure he can hit me.¡¯

    The goblin didn¡¯t waste any time in returning fire. Del threw himself flat as a small arrow whistled through the space his head had occupied moments before. The sudden motion ended in a sickening crack beneath him. Groaning, he looked down to see his bow, snapped cleanly in two, lying in the dirt.

    ¡®Perfect,¡¯ he thought bitterly. ¡®Just fucking perfect.¡¯

    A distinct wave of pity registered from Misty. Del glanced up to see her arching her back, bum high in the air, before she gave it a slight wiggle and leapt from her perch. She landed squarely on the goblin below, taking it by surprise. Scrambling to his feet, Del yanked out his knife and dashed forward to assist.

    [Misty has performed a Sneak Pounce attack on goblin scout.]

    The voice echoed in his head, surprising him. ¡®Does BB do commentary now?¡¯

    [Misty has caused critical damage to goblin scout.]

    Reaching the goblin just as Misty leapt off it, Del took in the sight of its bloodied back and neck. Crimson oozed from several jagged slashes. The creature groaned, struggling to push itself off the ground. Without hesitation, Del plunged his knife into its back.

    The goblin exhaled a soft breath as its body collapsed lifelessly to the forest floor.

    [You have killed goblin scout. Experience gained.]

    Del stumbled backward, his legs buckling beneath him until his back thudded against the rough bark of a tree. He slid down to the ground, his body trembling as though the very act of standing had become impossible. He pressed his head into his hands, trying to block out the image of what he¡¯d done, but it clung to him with a brutal clarity.

    ¡®I killed him. I killed him.¡¯ The thought echoed in his mind, relentless and unyielding. He tried to tell himself it was necessary, that it was self-defence. But no reasoning could erase the vivid memory of the moment his blade plunged into flesh.

    The goblin¡¯s body lay face-down in the dirt where it had fallen, its limbs splayed awkwardly. The bloodied tear in its tunic revealed the deep wound he¡¯d made. The knife still protruding from his back, crimson blood seeping from the wound headed for the dirt he lay on. The creature¡¯s clawed hand was outstretched, as if it had been reaching for something¡ªor perhaps trying to pull itself away from him.

    His stomach twisted. He turned his head, gagging, but nothing came up. The acrid taste of bile burned his throat regardless, mingling with the metallic tang of fear still lingering on his tongue.

    It wasn¡¯t just the sight of the goblin that haunted him¡ªit was the feeling. The weight of the knife as it pressed into the goblin¡¯s back, the sudden give as the blade pierced through. The shudder of the creature¡¯s body beneath his hand, its strained, a last shallow breath before it collapsed into stillness.

    His hands shook violently as he stared down at them, half expecting to see blood smeared across his skin. They were clean, of course¡ªhe¡¯d held the knife, not the wound¡ªbut that didn¡¯t make the sensation any less real.

    A sound broke through the thick haze of his thoughts, sharp and unfamiliar. It took him several moments to realise it was coming from him¡ªa low, keening whimper that grew louder with every unsteady breath. His face felt wet. Reaching up, he touched his cheek and found it slick with tears. He was crying.

    The sobs started small, choked and ragged, but they quickly grew. His chest heaved as the weight of the act crashed down on him, raw and unrelenting. He felt fractured, torn between the horror of what he¡¯d done and the sickening relief that he was still alive to feel it.

    He had killed. Not from a distance, not in some abstract way. He had driven the knife in himself, watched as the life drained from the creature, and heard its final exhalation. The memory was a weight in his chest, pressing down on him until he could hardly breathe.

    ¡®What kind of person does that make me?¡¯ he wondered, the question twisting in his gut. He wasn¡¯t a soldier or a hunter. He¡¯d never so much as punched someone in anger, let alone ended their life. The goblin hadn¡¯t even looked human, but that didn¡¯t make its death feel any less real.

    The forest around him felt eerily still, as if it were holding its breath in the wake of what had happened. The birdsong, the rustling leaves¡ªall of it seemed distant and wrong, like it belonged to a different world entirely. A world where he hadn¡¯t just crossed a line he never thought he¡¯d approach, let alone breach.

    For the first time in his adult life, Del felt a storm of grief, fear, and self-recrimination crash over him. Sobs wracked his body, uncontainable and unrelenting. He cried for what he¡¯d done, for what it meant, and for the person he would never quite be again.

 Chapter 9 â€“ Ginger Ninja

    Del¡¯s sobs eventually subsided into quiet shudders, his breath coming in shallow, uneven gulps. The storm of emotion that had wracked him left an aching emptiness in its wake. His limbs felt heavy, almost unresponsive, as if his body were reluctant to rise and face what had just happened.

    He lifted his head slowly, reluctant to look. But he couldn¡¯t avoid it forever. The goblin¡¯s lifeless form lay mere feet away, face-down in the dirt. The knife still protruded from its back, the hilt gleaming faintly in the muted light. Dark streaks of drying blood spread across the creature¡¯s torn tunic, seeping into the earth beneath it. The rich crimson had already begun to blacken, stark against the soft greens and browns of the forest floor.

    Del swallowed hard, forcing down another wave of nausea. He didn¡¯t want to move closer, didn¡¯t want to touch it¡ªbut the thought of just leaving the body there, untouched and unexamined, filled him with a strange, gnawing unease. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

    ¡®What am I supposed to do now?¡¯ The question lingered in his mind, the answer stubbornly elusive. He felt adrift, like a man suddenly cast into a sea with no idea which way to swim.

    Misty¡¯s soft nudge against his mind brought him out of his spiral. He turned his head to find her sitting a short distance away, her golden eyes fixed on him. There was no judgment in her gaze, only quiet patience and a faint undercurrent of concern.

    ¡°Hey, girl,¡± he croaked, his voice hoarse and brittle. The sound felt strange in the stillness, almost out of place. Misty blinked at him slowly, her tail twitching.

    Del exhaled a shuddering breath and pushed himself up onto unsteady feet. His knees wobbled, threatening to give way, but he steadied himself against the tree. His eyes flicked back to the goblin, and he forced himself to take a step toward it.

    The creature¡¯s body looked smaller now, its stillness robbing it of the menace it had carried in life. Its clawed hand, outstretched as if in some last act of defiance or desperation, made his stomach twist again. The knife in its back seemed almost too large for the frail frame, its presence grotesquely final. He crouched hesitantly, grimacing as the faint, metallic tang of blood mixed with the earthy smell of disturbed dirt.

    ¡°I... I didn¡¯t want to do this,¡± he whispered, the words falling into the silence like stones into a deep well. It felt absurd to speak to the dead, but the alternative¡ªto say nothing, to do nothing¡ªfelt worse. ¡°I didn¡¯t have a choice. You were going to kill me.¡±

    The justification sounded hollow even to his own ears. He wasn¡¯t sure who he was trying to convince¡ªthe goblin, himself, or the quiet, listening forest.

    Shaking his head, Del leaned back on his heels, wiping clammy hands on his trousers. He couldn¡¯t sit here forever. The world wasn¡¯t going to stop for him to process what had happened. But the weight in his chest refused to lift.

    Misty padded over, brushing against his leg as if to anchor him in the present. He reached down to touch her fur, grateful for her presence.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Misty,¡± Del murmured, his hand moving instinctively to stroke her soft fur. The rhythm of the motion calmed him slightly, grounding him in the here and now. ¡°I¡¯ll be okay; that just hit me harder than I thought. You did great, though, girl.¡± Misty rolled onto her back, grappling his hand playfully as he tickled her belly, her purring a steady counterpoint to the chaotic thrum of his thoughts.

    ¡°My little ginger ninja,¡± he said with a faint smile, his voice still raw. The words felt strange in the aftermath of everything, but they helped. He took a long, deep breath, the shudder in it betraying the storm still roiling inside, and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

    ¡®So survival¡¯s not all sweet treats and roses,¡¯ he realised bitterly. ¡®Del, my old son, I think we¡¯re going to find this more challenging than I imagined.¡¯ The enormity of his situation began to settle over him, a weight pressing on his chest and refusing to lift. He wasn¡¯t naive enough to believe this was the last time he¡¯d have to fight, the last time he¡¯d have to kill. The word¡ªkill¡ªsent a chill racing down his spine. He clenched and unclenched his fists, as though he could release the tension by sheer force of will.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    This was the reality now. He had to adapt or he wouldn¡¯t make it.

    ¡°What do you think we should do now?¡± he asked Misty, his voice breaking the heavy silence.

    Misty glanced at him, then disdainfully at the goblin¡¯s body. She padded over, sniffed it once, and then turned her back with a flick of her tail. A few purposeful scrapes of her paws sent dirt scattering over the creature¡¯s head and neck, her disdain as clear as if she¡¯d spoken aloud.

    ¡°Well, I guess that settles your opinion,¡± Del muttered. ¡°Alright, I suppose we should clear up here and move on before scavengers come to gnaw on its bones.¡±

    Standing, he approached the goblin¡¯s body. The knife was still embedded in its back, and he grimaced as he reached for it. The hilt felt cold and slick in his hand, and when he pulled, the blade came free with a nauseating squelch. The sound turned his stomach, and he swallowed hard against the rising bile. He quickly wiped the blade on the goblin¡¯s ragged shirt, the dried blood smearing rather than coming off cleanly.

    Rolling the body over, he couldn¡¯t suppress a muttered, ¡°Damn, you¡¯re one ugly little mofo.¡± The goblin¡¯s lifeless features were grotesque¡ªits beady eyes rolled back, a hooked nose dominating its face, and sharp, uneven teeth set in a mouth far too large.

    Del¡¯s gaze lingered on the creature for a moment longer. ¡®This was someone¡¯s life,¡¯ he thought, an uncomfortable prick of guilt rising in him. ¡®Not human, but still¡­¡¯ He shook his head, trying to push the thought away.

    He crouched and began gathering anything useful. With his own bow broken, the goblin¡¯s crude weapon would have to do. He slung the quiver of mismatched arrows over his shoulder and picked up a small knife and a crude sword, the blade pitted and poorly balanced but serviceable. A quick search of the goblin¡¯s pouch revealed a few round copper tokens¡ªlikely currency.

    ¡®Waste not, want not, Del,¡¯ he told himself, though the action made him feel like a grave robber. ¡®No different than digging for change down the back of the sofa.¡¯ The attempt at levity fell flat, and the weight of his actions pressed on him again. This wasn¡¯t just survival¡ªit was responsibility. For himself. For Misty. For everyone back at home and everything that lay ahead.

    The air around him felt thick, the faint earthy scent of the forest mixed with the metallic tang of blood. It clung to his nostrils, making it impossible to forget what had just happened. A distant birdcall pierced the quiet, and for a moment, Del found himself envying its freedom.

    ¡°I really don¡¯t like this,¡± he muttered aloud, the words barely audible. ¡°The reason I¡¯m here, the responsibility of it all¡ªit¡¯s just too much. I wasn¡¯t built for this kind of pressure.¡±

    But there was no choice. He had to carry on, adapt, and ultimately survive.

    Del turned to his broken bow, hoping for some way to repair it. A quick inspection confirmed what he already suspected¡ªit was beyond saving. Still, he carefully removed the string. Spares were something he couldn¡¯t afford to waste, especially when he had no idea when he¡¯d find more.

    He started toward the sound of running water, detouring briefly to retrieve the arrow he¡¯d fired earlier. Pulling it from the bush, a thought struck him: ¡®If Mr. Green was a scout, who was he scouting for?¡¯

    It was possible the goblin had simply been hunting, but he couldn¡¯t assume that. If it was part of a group, others might be nearby. And if it didn¡¯t return, someone might come looking for it.

    Del crouched, sending a mental nudge to Misty. He pictured the stream they were heading toward, then imagined more goblins lurking between them and the water. Misty tilted her head, watching him with a look that bordered on bemusement. Then, with a small meep, she disappeared into the undergrowth, her movements silent and swift.

    Del adjusted his gear, ensuring nothing would rattle or clink, and moved carefully through the woods. His senses sharpened with every step¡ªthe rustle of leaves overhead, the distant trill of a bird, the faint snapping of twigs underfoot. The tension in his body coiled tighter with each passing moment.

    He kept up a whispered mantra to himself as he moved. ¡®Keep low, mind that twig, loose stone¡ªcareful, Del. No tripping. Pause, listen. Okay, carry on.¡¯ The rhythm steadied his nerves, a small comfort in the oppressive quiet.

    The faint scent of damp earth grew stronger as the woods sloped downward, the sound of rushing water growing louder. His muscles ached from the tension of moving so cautiously, and his breath came heavier than he¡¯d like.

    Finally, he reached the stream. Misty sat on a flat rock nearby, gnawing contentedly on a fish. She looked up at him with a quizzical expression as if to ask what had taken him so long.

    ¡°I¡¯m not as fast or as sneaky as you,¡± Del said indignantly, shrugging off his pack. ¡°Of course you got here first.¡±

    He knelt by the stream, splashing the cold, refreshing water over his face before filling his bottle and taking a long drink. The chill seeped into his hands and face, calming the lingering adrenaline coursing through him.

    With a groan, he settled back onto a smooth slab of rock, placing his pack beneath his head. ¡°Wake me if you hear or see anything, girl,¡± he told Misty, his voice softer now. ¡°I need a small nap to get rid of this tension.¡±

    Misty gave a short mewl of assent before returning to her fish. Del closed his eyes, the weight of exhaustion and lingering unease pressing him into the rock.

 Chapter 10 â€“ A fishy repast

    The smell of smoke was thick, the heat of the flames making Del¡¯s skin tighten painfully.

    Desperately, he looked around, his vision obscured by a suffocating haze. Where was the door? The oily smoke coiled and swirled around him, clinging to his throat and lungs like an unwelcome guest. Ash coated his tongue, a bitter taste that made him gag and cough as he fought for breath.

    Dropping into a crouch, he scrambled forward blindly, searching for breathable air, his hand outstretched and groping for something¡ªanything¡ªsolid. A wall. A door. A window. His head pounded with the urgency of escape. Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes and mingling with the tears that evaporated almost as quickly as they fell, leaving his eyes raw and dry.

    His hand collided with something metal¡ªhot, blisteringly so¡ªbut he gripped it anyway. Pain flared, but his desperation overrode it as he twisted and yanked the handle. The door gave way, and he fell forward, collapsing onto the ground outside.

    The air, though tainted with smoke and the acrid tang of burning, filled his lungs with a welcome coolness. Gasping, he tried to steady himself, but his reprieve was short-lived.

    Chaos erupted around him. Screams tore through the air, mingling with the roar of flames and the violent pops and bangs of structures succumbing to the inferno. Everywhere he looked, fire raged, consuming everything in its path. Figures darted through the flames¡ªmen, women, children¡ªsome engulfed, others desperately fleeing the encroaching disaster.

    Del¡¯s breath hitched as he watched helplessly. The few who tried to fight the flames with buckets of water were outmatched, their efforts swallowed by the consuming fire. The cries of the injured and dying stabbed at his ears, an unrelenting cacophony that made his chest tighten.

    He fell to his knees, powerless, as the world burned around him.

    A weight suddenly pressed down on his face, smothering him, stealing what little air he had left. He clawed at it, panicked, unable to breathe¡ª

    With a jerk, Del sat bolt upright, neatly flinging Misty from his chest. She landed on the ground with a startled meep, glaring at him with clear reproach.

    He blinked rapidly, disoriented, as his heart thundered in his chest. The stream burbled nearby, its tranquil sound a stark contrast to the chaos still echoing in his mind. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze whispered that he was safe, yet his body remained drenched in sweat, and his hands trembled as he clutched his knees.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± he muttered hoarsely, running a hand through his damp hair. On shaky legs, he stumbled to the stream, sinking to his knees by the water¡¯s edge. The cold shock as he plunged his head beneath the surface helped chase away the lingering images of fire and screams.

    Stripping off his sweat-soaked garments, Del laid them out on a rock to dry in the warm sunlight. He waded into the stream, the icy water biting at his skin as he sat in the shallows, letting the current wash over him.

    ¡®Damn nightmare. Can¡¯t remember the last time I had one of those¡ªand too damn real for my liking.¡¯ The memory lingered, sharper than it should have been, as though the fire and destruction had been etched into his mind. For a moment, he wondered if it was more than a nightmare. A warning, perhaps.

    ¡®Not really surprising, dreaming batshit crazy stuff,¡¯ he thought, chewing on a piece of bread after drying off. ¡®Damn, Del, you should be screaming and banging your head on a wall with all that¡¯s happened.¡¯ He tilted his head, considering. ¡®Then again, maybe you have gone mad, and this is what the inside of a padded cell looks like through psycho eyes.¡¯

    Misty, perched midstream on a small rock, flicked her tail and gave him a disdainful glare. She batted a fish out of the water, sending it flying so close that it almost hit him.

    ¡°Alright, alright, cat,¡± Del said with a rueful smile. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t drag you into my crazy. So I guess that means we¡¯re not in some cuckoo land after all.¡± He gestured to the stream. ¡°Now see if you can grab a few more of those tiddlers, and we¡¯ll make a supper of them later.¡±

    Once dressed, Del headed back into the woods. He moved carefully, keeping his steps light and watching his surroundings with a wariness that he hoped would soon be an easier and more natural thing for him. The trees here weren¡¯t dense, their thick trunks reaching upward in grand displays of strength. Their large, deep-green leaves created a dappled canopy that painted the ground in shifting patterns of light and shadow.

    The air smelled of fresh greenery, with hints of wildflowers and damp earth. Birds called to one another in melodies that fell silent as he passed, only to resume moments later when they sensed he wasn¡¯t a threat.

    [Sneak has improved slightly. Try not to get caught.]

    BB¡¯s sudden intrusion made Del jump, and he glanced around reflexively before letting out a shaky laugh. ¡°One day, BB. One day I¡¯ll get used to you.¡±

    Making a rough circle around the stream, Del moved cautiously, his eyes scanning the forest for any sign of movement. The light dappled through the canopy above, casting shifting shadows that danced across the ground. Each step was deliberate, his boots crunching softly against the carpet of leaves and twigs.

    The forest around him felt alive, every sound amplified in the stillness¡ªthe distant chatter of birds, the occasional rustle of undergrowth, and the faint hum of insects darting through shafts of sunlight. The air carried a subtle mix of scents¡ªearthy and fresh, tinged with the faint sweetness of distant blooms.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Pausing, he knelt by a patch of soft earth where faint impressions marred the soil. Leaning closer, he studied the tracks, their delicate shape unmistakable. They seemed to belong to a rabbit. Nearby, slightly deeper prints hinted at a hoofed creature, likely a small deer that had passed through earlier.

    ¡®Sooner or later, I¡¯ll need fresh meat,¡¯ he thought, his stomach already growling faintly at the idea. ¡®Or consign myself to a diet of Misty¡¯s tiddlers. Not the most enticing option.¡¯

    The idea of tracking and hunting seemed daunting, but the practicality of it loomed large in his mind. As his gaze swept the forest once more, his eyes lingered on every flicker of movement, the thought of goblins lurking nearby refusing to leave entirely. Still, the lack of tracks or disturbances reassured him¡ªfor now.

    A faint herbal scent caught his attention, carried on a light breeze. Turning toward it, Del sniffed the air, curiosity piqued. After a few moments of searching, he found the source: a small plant nestled in the shadow of a bush. Its tiny green leaves and subtle fragrance were unlike anything he recognised.

    ¡°Identify,¡± he murmured softly.

    Feldspar: A medicinal plant useful in tinctures and poultices to ease bruising and reduce pain.

    He crouched carefully, plucking the plant and tucking it into a pouch. ¡®Useful,¡¯ he thought, rolling the word over in his mind. ¡®Damn it, Del, I wonder how many other useful things I¡¯ve idly walked past.¡¯

    With a renewed sense of purpose, he began scanning the undergrowth more closely as he continued back toward the stream. The rich, loamy scent of the forest floor grew stronger as he sifted through leaves and soil, uncovering a surprising array of mushrooms hidden among the damp shadows.

    Most were the basic, edible sort¡ªnothing special, but something to note for later. Two others, however, caught his eye.

    ¡°Identify,¡± he said again.

    Spintofore: A hallucinogenic fungus. Don¡¯t sniff the spores, and definitely don¡¯t eat the cap.

    Sombercap: Toxic. Can be used to make a mild paralytic poison. Can be used to coat weapons.

    The warnings were stark, but their potential usefulness was clear. Del pulled a rag from his pack, carefully gathering the fungi without letting them touch his skin. Their vivid colours¡ªbright oranges and deep, shadowy purples¡ªstood out starkly against the muted greens and browns of the forest.

    [You have learned the skill: Herbalism. Identify and gather more plants and fungi to expand this skill further.]

    A grin tugged at his lips despite the gravity of the day. ¡®Nice one, Del,¡¯ he thought, the message buoying his spirits. ¡®Seems I can pick up skills by trial and error. Now I just need to figure out what earns them or upgrades them.¡¯

    As he approached his earlier campsite, he paused to gather fallen branches and brush, his arms quickly filling with dry, brittle sticks. The faint scent of pine resin clung to the wood as he carried it back, the weight oddly comforting in its tangibility.

    Building a fire brought a small but significant comfort in a world that felt increasingly unpredictable. The snapping and crackling of flames as they caught and grew was a welcome sound, and the warmth was a steady presence against the cool forest air.

    By the time Misty returned with her catch¡ªa small pile of fish¡ªDel¡¯s stomach was growling in earnest. Gutting and cleaning the fish was a messy but necessary task, the slippery scales glinting faintly in the firelight. Soon, the aroma of roasting fish filled the air, mingling with the wood smoke and making his mouth water.

    A couple of hours and a small pile of fishbones later, Del leaned back with a comfortably full stomach, staring into the glowing embers of the fire. The warmth seeped into his skin, soothing the lingering tension from the day¡¯s events.

    ¡®What¡¯s next?¡¯ he wondered, his mind spinning with possibilities. He¡¯d survived another day, but that wasn¡¯t enough. He needed a plan¡ªa way to secure food, shelter, and safety beyond the fleeting security of a campfire. The thought was daunting, but not impossible.

    One thing Del knew for certain¡ªhe needed to practice using the bow. His single shot during the goblin fight had gone so wildly off target that he might as well have been aiming at the moon. The memory made him grimace. Accuracy wasn¡¯t just a matter of pride now¡ªit was a matter of survival. If he couldn¡¯t hit a moving target, the next encounter might not end so favourably.

    More importantly, he needed to come to terms with the fact that he was no longer the person he used to be. The old Del, the one who had spent his days in comfort and convenience, was gone. This version of himself had to buckle up and grow a stronger stomach. The goblin had been the first, but it wouldn¡¯t be the last creature he¡¯d face that wanted to kill him¡ªor worse still, eat him.

    ¡®Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s kill, then eat,¡¯ he thought grimly. ¡®I really don¡¯t fancy it being the other way around.¡¯ The idea sent a shiver racing down his spine, and he shook his head to dispel the gruesome image.

    The bow he¡¯d salvaged from the goblin was crude and small, but functional. The original twenty arrows he had were slightly oversized for it, but they¡¯d work in a pinch. The goblin¡¯s quiver added another fourteen smaller arrows to his supply, giving him a decent reserve¡ªfor now. But arrows broke or got lost far too easily, and while his basic archery skill provided some knowledge on repair, it didn¡¯t cover crafting new ones. That was something he¡¯d have to figure out sooner rather than later.

    Del crouched by the stream, his gaze flicking toward Misty as she sat on a rock midstream, methodically grooming her fur. ¡°Misty,¡± he said aloud, drawing her attention. Her ears twitched, and she tilted her head, fixing him with her quizzical golden gaze.

    ¡°We need a plan,¡± he continued, gesturing toward the forest. ¡°We need a few things: a place to train, better food, and, ideally, a settlement of some kind. I think we¡¯ll find what we¡¯re looking for if we can locate people¡ªor at least signs of them. What do you think?¡±

    Misty paused her grooming, glancing up and downstream as if weighing the options. After a moment, she fixed her gaze on the flowing water, her tail flicking lazily.

    Del felt the familiar nudge against his mind¡ªher silent way of agreeing.

    ¡°I think you¡¯re right,¡± he said with a small smile. Misty¡¯s quiet companionship had been invaluable. Despite everything, she kept him grounded in the moment. ¡°In the meantime, we¡¯ll keep an eye out for anything that might want to eat us¡ªand maybe something a bit more satisfying for dinner than fishbones.¡±

    Misty gave him a long, languid blink before leaping from her perch, her lithe form disappearing into the undergrowth. Del watched her go, a faint grin tugging at his lips. Her simplicity, her focus on the here and now, was something he envied.

    He adjusted his gear, slinging the bow over his shoulder. The forest around him felt vast and unpredictable, the shadows between the trees shifting in the fading light. The path ahead was uncertain, filled with risks and challenges he could only begin to imagine.

    Still, step by step, he would figure it out.

    As the distant sound of Misty¡¯s paws faded, Del set off after her, his resolve hardening. Survival wasn¡¯t just about reacting¡ªit was about preparing. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, he was content to focus on the simple, immediate goals: keep moving, keep learning, and keep surviving.

 Chapter 11 â€“ Pigginess

    It didn¡¯t take Del long to gather their meagre belongings. Misty waited patiently as he slung his pack over his shoulder and adjusted the makeshift quiver. With everything in place, they set off along the stream, Misty ranging ahead to scout the way. Her movements were fluid and precise, her ginger fur blending into the dappled light of the forest as she disappeared into the undergrowth.

    The trek was slow and steady. Del estimated they¡¯d been walking for about half an hour, though it was hard to be sure. Without a watch, tracking time was guesswork at best. He grimaced, remembering how his knack for misjudging time had earned him a reputation for burning dinners.

    The faint nudge of a mental image drifted into his mind¡ªa vague impression of a pig-like creature.

    ¡®Well done, girl,¡¯ he thought back to Misty, the connection between them sparking faintly. ¡®Looks like you¡¯ve found our dinner.¡¯

    Crouching low, Del moved carefully, keeping to the solid rock along the stream¡¯s edges wherever possible. Each step was deliberate, his boots avoiding loose stones and twigs that might give him away. As he rounded a bend, the forest opened into a small glade, twenty to thirty yards across. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, painting the grassy clearing in warm, golden hues. Del¡¯s gaze flicked across the area, noting the clusters of small flowers that dotted the glade.

    Across the clearing, rooting at the base of a large tree, was the creature Misty had shown him. But it wasn¡¯t a pig.

    The animal was massive, its powerfully built shoulders rising a good five feet off the ground. A thick mat of coarse, dark hair flowed down its sloping back toward equally muscular haunches. Its head was broad, almost grotesque, with small, squinting eyes and a tapered snout that ended in two enormous tusks jutting from its lower jaw. The tusks gleamed faintly in the light, their sharp edges unmistakable.

    Del¡¯s breath caught as he watched the beast use its snout and tusks to dig through the roots of the tree. The raw strength in its movements was enough to make his stomach twist.

    ¡®Oh dear god, its head,¡¯ he thought, barely suppressing a shudder. ¡®Those tusks... I really don¡¯t want to play with those.¡¯

    He took a steadying breath and thought, ¡®Identify.¡¯

    Forest Boar ¨C Beast, male

    Level: 1

    Aggressive, territorial

    Strengths: Strength, toughness

    Weaknesses: Short-sighted

    Attacks: Tusks, trample

    Skill: Charge

    Lore: Boars are highly aggressive beasts that startle easily and will attack if they feel threatened. Males are solitary except when breeding. Females move in family groups of mixed-age adult females and piglets.

    The description was far from comforting. The boar¡¯s strengths far outweighed its weaknesses, and its aggressive nature made it a significant threat. But Del¡¯s options were limited. He needed food, and the boar, terrifying as it was, could provide enough meat to last for days.

    Moving as quietly as possible, Del slipped his bow from his shoulder. He notched an arrow, his fingers trembling slightly as he drew the string back. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, forcing himself to focus. His breathing slowed, his heartbeat steadying as he whispered a silent mantra.

    ¡®Misty, distract it if you can¡ªbut be careful. Wait for my shot.¡¯

    He wasn¡¯t entirely sure where she was, but the faint pulse of understanding that rippled through their link reassured him. He scanned the area quickly, searching for anything that might help¡ªor hinder¡ªhis plan. The glade was mostly open, but the tall grass and flowers provided Misty with plenty of cover.

    Taking aim, Del exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on the beast¡¯s broad shoulder. He held his breath, steadied his hand, and released.

    The arrow flew true, striking the boar with a satisfying thunk as it embedded itself in the beast¡¯s shoulder. For a moment, the clearing seemed to hold its breath. Then came the squeal¡ªa piercing, guttural sound that echoed across the glade.

    The boar¡¯s head jerked up, its small eyes narrowing as it sniffed the air. It turned slowly, its snout flaring as it zeroed in on the source of the attack.

    Del¡¯s stomach dropped as the beast¡¯s gaze locked onto him.

    Then, it charged.

    The ground shook beneath Del¡¯s feet as the boar thundered toward him, its head lowered, those wicked tusks gleaming in the dappled sunlight. Every instinct screamed at him to move, but his body felt leaden, frozen for a split second as the sheer size and speed of the beast bore down on him.

    At the last possible moment, he threw himself to the side, rolling awkwardly over the rocky ground. His bow clattered from his hand as he tossed it aside to hopefully keep it safe. The boar¡¯s bulk tore past him, the rush of air carrying the heavy stench of musk and sweat. Del scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from his chest.

    The boar skidded to a halt, its hooves digging into the soft earth and sending clods of dirt flying. It twisted sharply, more agile than he expected, and fixed its beady, furious eyes on him again. The beast snorted, its breath steaming in the cool air, before charging once more.

    Del drew the pilfered sword, gripping it tightly as he crouched. His muscles ached, every nerve in his body screaming at him to run, but there was no escape. The boar was too fast, its movements too relentless.

    ¡®If those tusks hit me, I¡¯m dead,¡¯ he thought grimly, his mind racing for a strategy.

    As the boar barreled toward him, Del darted to the side, slashing downward with the blade as it passed. The sword struck the creature¡¯s thick hide but glanced off, barely leaving a mark. Before he could react, the boar twisted its head, its tusk catching him in the side with brutal force.

    Pain exploded in his ribs as he was thrown to the ground, the wind knocked from his lungs in a harsh gasp. Del¡¯s vision blurred as he hit the rocky earth hard, his sword slipping from his grasp.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The boar let out an enraged squeal, skidding to a stop a few feet away. Del struggled to rise, his ribs screaming in protest. His vision cleared just in time to see Misty streak out of the undergrowth, leaping onto the boar¡¯s broad back.

    She clung to the beast with her claws, raking its side with feral precision. The boar screamed again, thrashing wildly to dislodge her. Its powerful muscles rippled as it bucked, and with one violent shake, Misty was flung off. She twisted midair, landing with a yowl and tumbling into the tall grass.

    Del barely had time to register her fall before the boar turned on him again. Its charge was relentless, the ground trembling under its hooves. He reached frantically for his sword, fingers closing around the hilt just as the beast loomed over him.

    The boar¡¯s massive foot stomped down on his thigh, pinning him in place. White-hot pain lanced through his leg, ripping a strangled cry from his throat. Its tiny, malevolent eyes locked onto his, its snout curling as it prepared to drive its tusks into his unprotected chest.

    ¡®This is it,¡¯ he thought, panic surging through him. ¡®I¡¯m dead.¡¯

    In pure desperation, Del thrust upward with the sword, putting all his strength behind the move. The blade pierced the boar¡¯s throat, sinking deep with a sickening squelch. The beast froze, its squeal turning into a choked gurgle as blood sprayed across Del¡¯s arm and chest.

    The boar staggered, its massive frame trembling as it tried to stay upright. Del pushed harder, the sword driving upward into its brain. With a final, pitiful groan, the boar collapsed, its full weight crashing down on him.

    Del gasped as the air was forced from his lungs, his ribs flaring with pain. The beast¡¯s body was heavy, the thick mat of its hair coarse and damp against his skin. Summoning what strength he had left, Del shoved and wriggled, finally managing to crawl out from under the boar¡¯s corpse.

    His thigh throbbed, the pain sharp and unrelenting. He collapsed onto his back, tears stinging his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath.

    ¡°Shit,¡± he muttered hoarsely. ¡°That hurts.¡± Turning his head, he called out weakly, ¡°Misty? You alright, girl?¡±

    From the corner of his eye, he saw her slinking cautiously toward the dead boar. Her golden eyes gleamed as she sniffed the body, letting out a low, disapproving growl before stepping away.

    ¡°Good girl,¡± he murmured, relief flooding him as he saw her uninjured.

    Del forced himself to sit up, wincing as he examined his injured thigh. Blood stained his leather breeches, but as he carefully eased them down, he saw that the skin was only broken in a few places. Bruising was already spreading, deep and dark, but there was no major bleeding.

    ¡°Got off lightly,¡± he muttered to himself.

    Hobbling to the stream, Del found a pair of small, flat rocks. He crushed a few leaves of Feldspar he had collected earlier, mixing them with water until they formed a thick paste. The process was clumsy and awkward, but he managed. Slathering the paste onto his thigh, he sighed as a warm, soothing sensation spread through the injury, dulling the pain.

    Checking under his jerkin he found the same bruising running down his side and deep breaths caused a sharp pain to radiate from the site of impact. With a wince, he smoothed more of the paste there.

    For a moment, he simply sat by the stream, staring at the dead boar. The fight had been far too close for comfort. His heart still pounded, the adrenaline coursing through him making his hands tremble.

    ¡®Still managed to stick it with that arrow, though, Del,¡¯ he thought, a faint grin tugging at his lips. ¡®Not too bad at all for an amateur.¡¯

    A quiet beeping sound interrupted his thoughts. Notifications. He blinked, realising he hadn¡¯t even noticed them during the fight.

    [Your sneak ability has slightly improved.]

    [Forest boar hits you for 3 points of damage. Agility compromised.]

    [You have killed Forest boar. Experience earned.]

    [Herbalism has improved slightly.]

    [You have progressed on your primary Cuvat: Survive. Points added.]

    The last message brought a genuine smile to his face.

    ¡°Well, Del,¡± he muttered, chuckling softly. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re doing something right.¡±

    He pushed himself to his feet, limping toward the boar. ¡°Now,¡± he said to Misty, who watched him with mild disinterest, ¡°let¡¯s deal with this pig and figure out supper.¡±

    Del tore a some strips of cloth from the hem of his shirt, wincing slightly as he wrapped it snugly around his injured thigh and strapped his chest. The makeshift bandage would have to do for now. Once secured, he pulled up his breeches and limped toward the boar. On the way, he made a quick detour to retrieve his bow, relieved to find it undamaged. Slinging it over his shoulder, he turned back to the mess waiting for him.

    Stripping off his jerkin and bloodied shirt, Del set them aside, out of the way, and unsheathed the skinning knife from his belt. The blade gleamed faintly in the late afternoon light, sharp but unfamiliar in his hands.

    ¡®How the hell do I even start this?¡¯ he thought, staring at the boar¡¯s massive form. He couldn¡¯t help but mutter aloud, ¡°This was so much easier when all I had to do was pick it up from the supermarket meat counter.¡±

    The boar¡¯s sheer size was daunting. Its thick, bristled hide looked like it could repel cannon fire, and the sharp tang of blood hanging in the air only made the task seem more overwhelming. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Del knelt beside the beast, trying to remember anything useful from survival shows he¡¯d half-watched over the years.

    ¡°Right, Del,¡± he muttered to himself, gripping the knife tightly. ¡°Just remember... slow and steady.¡±

    With a resigned sigh, he stripped off his top and made his first tentative cut near the belly, the blade biting into the tough hide. The resistance surprised him, the coarse texture far thicker and denser than he¡¯d imagined. Gritting his teeth, he worked the knife underneath the hide, sawing awkwardly to get a strip started.

    The effort was slow and clumsy, each motion requiring more force than he expected. Sweat dripped from his brow, mingling with the sticky blood on his hands as he pulled the hide back inch by inch. The smell hit him like a punch, far more intense and visceral than he¡¯d anticipated¡ªa mix of musk, iron, and raw animal. Del gagged, turning his head away briefly, but forced himself to push through.

    Misty sat a short distance away, her golden eyes fixed on him. She flicked her tail lazily, her expression one of faint disdain. If Del didn¡¯t know better, he¡¯d have sworn she was silently judging him.

    ¡°Yeah, I know,¡± he muttered. ¡°Amateur hour. Thanks for the vote of confidence.¡±

    Misty, apparently satisfied she¡¯d made her point, returned to grooming her paws, leaving him to muddle through on his own.

    Del continued cutting, working the meat free from the bone as best he could. The process was messy and exhausting, his arms aching from the effort of sawing through sinew and muscle. The blade slipped more than once, nicking his fingers and forcing him to pause to wipe away the blood.

    By the time he managed to carve off several manageable chunks of meat, his hands were sticky and his back screamed in protest from kneeling on the hard ground. He sat back with a groan, surveying his handiwork. The results were far from professional¡ªragged cuts and uneven pieces¡ªbut it was enough for a few meals.

    ¡°Guess it¡¯ll do, eh, Misty?¡± he said, holding up one of the chunks of meat for her inspection.

    The cat padded over, sniffing at the offering with mild interest before flicking her tail and walking away. Her unimpressed demeanour earned a weak laugh from Del, who shook his head.

    ¡°Fussy little thing, aren¡¯t you?¡± he said with a grin. Rising unsteadily to his feet, he gathered the meat into a rough bundle and wiped his knife clean on the grass. ¡°Alright, time to cook, girl. Let¡¯s see if you¡¯re still so picky with a hunk of bacon sizzling in front of you.¡±

    Misty glanced back at him briefly, her tail curling in what might have been amusement before she trotted ahead toward the stream. Del followed, the ache in his thigh and the sticky sensation of blood and sweat a constant reminder of how far he¡¯d come¡ªand how far he still had to go.

    As he approached the stream, the promise of food and a small fire lightened his mood. For the first time since the fight, he felt a flicker of satisfaction. He¡¯d survived. It hadn¡¯t been pretty, but he was still standing. And for now, that was enough.

 Chapter 12 â€“ Time of her life.

    Del stood at the stream''s edge, his gaze fixed on his gore-covered arms. Blood and viscera clung past his elbows, and was splattered haphazardly across his torso like a macabre painting. He crouched, plunging his hands into the cold, fast-running water. The icy sting bit at his skin, but he didn¡¯t flinch, scrubbing at the crimson stains until they began to swirl away in tendrils of red. It had been harder than he¡¯d imagined¡ªdragging that beast¡¯s bulk, carving it open, and wrestling with its innards. The weight alone had been daunting, but the process had laid bare something more profound. He had never truly considered how his steak arrived on a plate.

    This was different. Messier for sure, but also a lot more, real.

    When his arms and body were clean, he splashed water over his face, letting the chill sharpen his senses before taking a few deep gulps. The metallic taste of iron lingered faintly on his tongue¡ªa phantom of the blood that had slicked his hands moments before. Rising to his feet, he turned to survey his handiwork. The scene awaiting him wasn¡¯t one of triumph but grim pragmatism.

    ¡®Damn, Del,¡¯ he thought, a wry smile tugging at his lips. ¡®I can see why they call it butchery.¡¯

    Before him lay a chaotic heap of hacked and mangled meat¡ªhalf-joints and slabs, barely recognisable to anyone with a proper understanding of butchery. Beside it, a pile of guts, steaming faintly in the cool afternoon air, gave off a pungent, tang that made his nose wrinkle. Misty seemed unbothered, happily gnawing on a piece of dark, mahogany-red organ meat¡ªlikely the liver, judging by its size. The tattered remnants of the boar¡¯s skin were strewn nearby, shredded into three uneven strips with fleshy sides glistening. The Overmind had cheerfully notified him of a newfound skinning skill during the grim process. No such recognition had come for butchery, and as Del studied the mess, he wasn¡¯t surprised. In fact, he was surprised to have been given an acknowledgement for his attempt at skinning.

    The skinning skill had come with strings attached¡ªdetails on proper preparation and preservation if he wanted the hides to be usable. But that was a task for another day. For now, he was done.

    ¡°Right then, Misty,¡± he said aloud, the sound of his voice grounding him. ¡°Finish up. We¡¯ll grab the best bits and move on downstream before the night critters come out to claim this as their free dinner.¡±

    He selected a slab of fatty belly, some ribs and a large haunch, wrapping them tightly in the least damaged section of hide. The feel of the slick, sticky material made his stomach churn, but he pushed the discomfort aside. After securing his gear and checking that nothing had been forgotten, he hefted the bundle and set off downstream, Misty padding beside him.

    Roughly half an hour later, the pair came across a small, shallow cave nestled into the bank¡ªa natural hollow just deep enough to provide some semblance of shelter. Del dropped his pack and meat bundle just inside the entrance, stretching his arms until his shoulders popped. The ache in his back throbbed in protest, but it was a dull companion now, and small potatoes compared to what he had endured in the recent past. He crouched and began gathering dry wood for a fire.

    ¡°Misty, go sniff around,¡± he said, waving her off. ¡°See if there¡¯s anything nasty lurking nearby.¡±

    The cat gave a soft ¡°Meep¡± in reply before disappearing into the dusk. Del watched her go, a faint smirk playing on his lips. At the entrance of the little cave, he cleared the ground with his boot, making a hollow in the dirt for his fire. He placed a flat, palm-sized stone beside it¡ªa makeshift cooking surface if his memory of survival shows served him right.

    ¡®Let¡¯s see how much Bear Grylls really knows,¡¯ he thought, chuckling softly.

    Once the fire was crackling merrily, Del returned to the stream to fill his water bottle. He straightened after drinking, stretching until his spine gave a satisfying crack. The tension that had settled there earlier began to ease.

    ¡®You know, Del,¡¯ he mused, ¡®this could be a lot worse.¡¯

    Back at the fire, he sliced a piece of fatty pork belly and laid it on the heated rock. As the meat sizzled, filling the air with the rich aroma of rendering fat, he considered his next steps.

    ¡®Salt,¡¯ he thought. ¡®I need to find salt. Herbs, too. But salt first.¡¯ A grin crept across his face as a ridiculous notion surfaced. ¡®What¡¯s the plan, Del? Lick every rock you come across until you find the right one?¡¯

    The thought was laughable, but it wasn¡¯t as if he had a better idea. For now, the meal was enough.

    The cave smelled of earth and old leaves, its farthest reaches piled with wind-blown grass that would serve as a makeshift bed. The firelight flickered warmly against the stone walls, holding back the encroaching darkness. Misty returned, nudging at his mind with an all-clear feeling that brought a wave of relief.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°Alright, girl,¡± Del said, hacking off a morsel for her. ¡°Dinner and bed sound good?¡±

    The pair ate in companionable silence, the night settling around them like a thick, velvet curtain.

    Del stirred as the faint glow of pre-dawn light began to seep into the sky, painting the horizon in pale shades of grey and lavender. He blinked groggily, the earthy scent of the cave mingling with the faint tang of lingering smoke from the fire. Its embers, banked the night before, pulsed weakly in the cool air. A shiver ran through him as he shrugged off the makeshift bed of leaves, the night¡¯s chill still clinging to his skin.

    He crouched by the fire, nudging a couple of dry branches into the embers and prodding them gently with a stick. The sparks flared, catching the wood with a soft crackle, and the warmth began to spread. A sigh of relief escaped him as he rubbed his hands together, basking in the growing heat.

    At the back of the cave, Misty lay half-submerged in the scattered leaf litter, her tail flicking lazily. She cracked open one eye, fixing him with a look of vague disdain before promptly closing it again.

    ¡®Too early for cats, obviously,¡¯ Del thought, stifling a grumble.

    He busied himself with breaking his fast, chewing through the last of the bread and cheese he¡¯d stashed in his pack. The simple meal was dry but filling, and he chased it down with a few gulps of cool water from his flask. As he rose, the ache in his muscles reminded him of yesterday¡¯s exertions, but it was dull, easily manageable. He stretched, feeling a satisfying series of pops along his spine, before nudging Misty awake.

    ¡°Come on, girl. Time to move.¡±

    With an annoyed flick of her ears, Misty uncurled herself and padded to the cave¡¯s entrance. Together, they set off downstream, the woods around them gradually coming to life in the dawn¡¯s soft light.

    The morning air was crisp and carried the damp, clean scent of earth and dew. Del¡¯s boots crunched softly over the undergrowth, the rhythm punctuated by the chatter of birds hidden among the trees. High above, the canopy was dappled with fresh greens, the leaves whispering in the breeze. Insects buzzed faintly in the background, their droning blending with the occasional silver splash of fish breaking the river¡¯s surface.

    What had begun as a narrow, bubbling stream was now widening into a slow-flowing river. Its deep, rhythmic gurgle harmonised with the sounds of the forest, creating a symphony of nature that Del found strangely soothing.

    He paused occasionally, his curiosity drawn to plants growing along the riverbank or sprouting in clusters beneath the trees. The air carried hints of wood sap and wildflowers, mingling with the loamy scent of damp earth. Some plants were vaguely familiar¡ªsorrel with its arrow-shaped leaves, dandelions scattered like golden stars, and sage¡¯s soft, silvery foliage.

    ¡®These might make for a decent meal addition,¡¯ he mused, carefully plucking a few leaves and tucking them into his bag.

    Other plants were unfamiliar, their unusual shapes and colours catching his eye. One had slender silver petals that shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Another sported dark green leaves veined with red, the contrast stark against the soil.

    ¡°Identify,¡± he murmured, focusing on the first plant.

    Silverbloom: Medicinal plant. All parts are useful; the leaves and stems can be crushed and used in a poultice to encourage rapid healing of deep cuts and lacerations. The flowers, which give it its name, can be placed on the tongue to ease sore throats and coughs. The roots can be dried and ground to make a tea to fight infection and reduce fever.

    Del raised an eyebrow, impressed, before turning his attention to the red-veined plant.

    Bloodroot Fern: Medicinal plant. Named for the deep red veins running through its leaves. Soften the leaves in hot water. Use it to wrap a broken bone; acts as a temporary splint as it dries and accelerates bone healing.

    A small notification flickered across his vision:

    [Herbalism has increased slightly.]

    ¡®Useful, if I can remember it all,¡¯ Del thought, crouching to gather as much as he could carry. His efforts were clumsy¡ªhis fingers fumbling with the delicate stems and ruining more than he managed to collect¡ªbut he pressed on, feeling a growing sense of accomplishment with each successful harvest.

    Misty roamed ahead, her sleek form weaving between the undergrowth like a shadow. Occasionally, she pounced, returning with a mouse clamped in her jaws or crouching by the river to swipe at an unwary fish. Del watched her with a faint smile, her movements so effortless compared to his own.

    Del couldn¡¯t help but smile at Misty¡¯s antics, watching her stalk a hapless fish darting in the shallows. She was in her element out here, and her easy grace was a welcome distraction from the unease creeping through his mind. ¡®Damn cat¡¯s having the time of her life,¡¯ he thought, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. He was glad he¡¯d brought her along. ¡®I¡¯d be going mad by now if all I had to talk to was myself.¡¯

    The faint crunch of leaves made him glance up, and the smile faded as Misty froze mid-step. Her body sank to the ground, ears flattened, and a quiet hiss escaped her. Instinctively, Del stilled, his breath catching in his throat. His hand drifted to his bow, fumbling slightly as he unslung it and reached for an arrow. The familiar weight felt clumsy in his hands¡ªa reminder of how little practice he¡¯d had with the weapon.

    ¡®Why didn¡¯t I practise more?¡¯ he berated himself silently, checking his grip. The bowstring felt taut beneath his fingers, and he took a steadying breath. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears like a drum.

    Adjusting his belt to silence the clink of his sword and knives, Del crept forward, his movements awkward but quiet enough. Misty¡¯s unwavering focus drew his attention to a small clearing up ahead. Squinting through the dappled light, he caught sight of a flickering fire. Three hunched figures sat around it, their coarse, greenish skin glistening faintly in the firelight. Goblins.

    Del¡¯s pulse quickened as he took in the scene. The creatures were engrossed in their chatter, their guttural voices grating against the peaceful backdrop of the woods. At their feet lay a rough burlap sack, jerking and writhing as if whatever was inside was desperately trying to escape.

    ¡®What the hell is that?¡¯ Del wondered, his grip tightening on the bow. Misty¡¯s low growl vibrated through the air, a barely audible sound, but one that made goosebumps prickle his skin.

 Chapter 13 â€“ The lowest rung

    The goblins were small and rough-looking, their hunched forms bathed in the flickering glow of the firelight. Their coarse, greenish skin was marred with scars and grime, giving them a feral, almost diseased appearance. Del¡¯s breath caught as he studied them from the shadows, his fingers tightening around the bowstring. They reminded him of the scout he had encountered the other day, though these seemed even more savage.

    None of them appeared to carry bows, which was a small mercy. Each was armed with wicked-looking knives, their crude blades glinting in the fire¡¯s light, and one carried a rust-pitted sword that looked sharp enough to do real damage despite its crude craftsmanship. Their clothing was a mishmash of untanned skins and patchwork cloth, barely more than rags held together by fraying stitches and scavenged ties.

    Del considered his options. He could possibly sneak past them, but the thought made his gut churn. Leaving them at his back was a risk he couldn¡¯t afford. If they spotted him while he tried to slip by, the ensuing chaos would likely end with him overwhelmed before he could draw his weapon. He carefully scanned the trees around the clearing, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow, but there were no signs of other guards.

    Satisfied, Del exhaled slowly. ¡®Identify,¡¯ he thought, focusing on the nearest goblin.

    Goblin Grunt

    Level: 0

    Aggressive hunters and scavengers

    Strengths: Dexterity, Cunning

    Weaknesses: Being hit with pointy objects

    Attacks: Dagger

    Skill: None

    Lore: Usually found in small to medium-sized groups, often family-based. Known to be cowardly in nature, they prefer to run from a fight unless confident they have a distinct advantage.

    The text floated before his vision for a moment before fading. He shifted his gaze to the second goblin, then the third. The results were nearly identical¡ªtwo grunts, both level zero, and one larger goblin carrying the sword.

    Goblin

    Level: 1

    Aggressive hunters and scavengers

    Strengths: Dexterity, Cunning

    Weaknesses: Being hit with pointy objects

    Attacks: Sword, Dagger

    Skill: Unknown

    Lore: Usually found in small to medium-sized groups, often family-based. Known to be cowardly in nature, they prefer to run from a fight unless confident they have a distinct advantage.

    ¡®Alright, Del,¡¯ he thought grimly, ¡®grunts must be the lowest rung on the goblin food chain. The one with the sword is priority.¡¯

    The air seemed heavier as Del shifted his weight, the faint scent of smouldering wood and acrid smoke prickling his nose. The goblins were engrossed in their guttural chatter, the cadence of their voices harsh and alien. Every so often, a laugh¡ªgrating and cruel¡ªbroke through their words, as if they were sharing some grim joke. One of the grunts nudged the burlap sack with its foot, silencing the faint wriggle inside. The creature barked something at its companions and settled back down on its haunches, resting a clawed hand on its knife.

    Del clenched his teeth, his fingers twitching against the bowstring. He glanced at Misty, who was crouched low beside him, her golden eyes fixed intently on the clearing. The faint rustle of leaves in the breeze brushed against his ears, a sharp contrast to the rising tension in his chest. ¡®I wish I could talk to you properly,¡¯ he thought, frustration flickering through him. He reached out with his mind, nudging at her thoughts in the way that was becoming instinctive since their bond had formed. He focused on a tree between them and the goblins, projecting the idea of a pounce attack.

    Misty tilted her head, her ears flicking slightly as she stared at him. The look she gave him was pure feline disdain, as though she were humouring a child with an outlandish request. But something must have translated because a moment later, she slunk into the underbrush, her movements silent and deliberate. Del let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realised he was holding as she disappeared from sight, his heart hammering in his chest.

    The wind shifted, carrying with it a mix of damp earth, charred wood, and the sour tang of unwashed bodies. Del wrinkled his nose, steadying himself as he watched the clearing. Moments later, he caught a glimpse of Misty¡¯s sleek form scaling the tree he¡¯d indicated. She moved with a fluid grace that made him painfully aware of his own clumsy movements.

    He turned his attention back to the goblins, his fingers fumbling slightly as he reached for an arrow. The shaft felt foreign in his grip, awkward and unbalanced, and his hands trembled as he nocked it. One of the grunts threw a stick onto the fire, sending a spray of embers into the air. The larger goblin growled something low and guttural, its eyes scanning the edge of the clearing with a predator¡¯s wariness. Del felt the tension ratchet higher, every nerve in his body taut like the bowstring in his hands.

    Whether the tremor in his fingers was from fear or anticipation, he couldn¡¯t tell. His breath came shallow and fast, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. ¡®This is it,¡¯ he thought, forcing himself to steady his hands. ¡®No turning back now.¡¯This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    He crouched lower, the tension in his body coiling tighter as he waited for the right moment to act.

    Del steadied his breath, willing the tension in his body to flow into the taut bowstring. The world around him narrowed to the goblins clustered by the fire, their guttural chatter grating in his ears. He felt his heartbeat slow, each pulse resonating through his fingertips as he took aim.

    The arrow flew, slicing through the still air. He cursed under his breath as it sailed past the larger goblin he had targeted, his inexperience with the bow glaringly evident. The shaft, however, found an unintentional mark. It buried itself with a sickening thunk into the side of a grunt¡¯s head, just below its ear.

    The creature let out a high-pitched squeal, its body jerking violently before crumpling to the ground.

    [You have killed Goblin Grunt. Experience earned.]

    The remaining goblins shot to their feet, their startled cries echoing through the clearing. The larger one barked something unintelligible, its voice sharp with alarm. It pointed directly at Del¡¯s hiding spot, its yellowed eyes narrowing in rage as it drew its sword. The other grunt followed suit, clutching a knife in its clawed hand.

    Del¡¯s second arrow was already loosed before he had time to think, streaking toward the advancing pair. The larger goblin snarled as the arrow struck its arm, embedding deep into the flesh. With an enraged growl, it snapped the shaft off, casting the broken piece aside as if it were little more than an annoyance.

    [Archery has increased slightly.]

    ¡°Shit,¡± Del muttered, tossing the bow aside. He yanked his sword free, the blade catching the firelight as he rose to his feet. A primal yell tore from his throat¡ªa war cry meant to steel his own nerves as much as to intimidate the goblins.

    Whether it worked or not was irrelevant. They were coming.

    Misty launched from above, her lithe form a blur of ginger fur and sharp claws. She leapt with a ferocity that made Del¡¯s chest tighten, slamming into the second grunt¡¯s back. The goblin shrieked, its knife falling from its grip as it toppled forward, Misty tearing into its flesh with relentless ferocity.

    [Misty has used Pounce on Goblin Grunt. Sneak attack, Critical damage.]

    Del barely had time to register her success before the larger goblin was upon him, its sword slicing through the air. He jerked backward, the blade missing his chest by inches, and stumbled to regain his footing.

    ¡°Fucking hell!¡± he spat, adrenaline surging as he thrust his own sword forward. His attack was clumsy, driven more by desperation than technique, and the goblin batted it aside with contemptuous ease.

    The creature¡¯s counterstrike came fast¡ªa sharp, downward slash that grazed Del¡¯s upper arm. Pain flared as blood welled from the cut, staining his sleeve a dark red. He gritted his teeth, a hiss escaping as he adjusted his grip on the sword.

    Now, they were both injured. His wound bled freely, while the goblin¡¯s arm merely dripped around the embedded arrowhead.

    Del¡¯s mind raced. He hadn¡¯t planned for the intensity of this moment. Every scrape of steel and grunt of effort echoed like thunder in his ears. His eyes darted to Misty. She had finished goring the grunt, her fur matted with blood, and was already on the move once more.

    [Misty has killed Goblin Grunt. Experience earned.]

    The notification barely registered as Del caught sight of Misty bounding back into the fray, her maw slick with blood. ¡®At least one of us can fight,¡¯ he thought bitterly, anger bubbling beneath his fear. ¡®C¡¯mon, Del, sort this little bastard before he sorts you.¡¯

    The goblin swung again, its blade arcing toward Del¡¯s neck. He ducked low, the tip of the sword slicing through the air above him. With a grunt, he drove his own blade forward, aiming for its chest. The goblin twisted to avoid the strike so at the last second, he shifted the angle downward, slicing deep into the goblin¡¯s thigh.

    The goblin howled, its hobbling steps uneven as blood poured from the wound. Del backed away, his breathing ragged, his muscles burning with the effort of staying upright. The taste of copper clung to the back of his throat as he wiped sweat from his brow.

    Behind the goblin, Misty crouched low, her body tense and ready. Del¡¯s eyes flicked to her, and an unspoken understanding passed between them. He surged forward, feinting another strike that forced the goblin to step back¡ªright into Misty¡¯s waiting claws.

    She leapt, her full weight crashing onto the goblin¡¯s back as her teeth sank into its neck. It screeched in fury and pain, its sword flailing wildly as it tried to throw her off.

    Del seized the opening, plunging his sword into the goblin¡¯s chest. The creature froze, its yellowed eyes widening as it gasped for air. Slowly, it collapsed backward, sliding off the blade and hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

    [You have killed Goblin. Experience earned.]

    [Congratulations, you have enough experience to level up. Would you like to level up now?]

    Del staggered, wiping sweat from his brow with a bloodied arm. His chest heaved as the adrenaline began to fade, leaving exhaustion and pain in its wake. He glanced down at the goblin¡¯s lifeless body, his hands trembling as he sheathed his sword.

    ¡°Well then,¡± he muttered aloud, his voice hoarse. ¡°There¡¯s a thing.¡±

    Misty padded over, her fur matted with blood but her golden eyes sharp and alert. She gave him a satisfied look, her tail flicking as if to say, ¡®You¡¯re welcome.¡¯

    Del let out a breathless chuckle, his legs threatening to give way beneath him. ¡°Thanks, girl,¡± he said, crouching to scratch behind her ears. ¡°You earned that kill.¡±

    As he rose, his gaze shifted to the burlap sack still lying by the fire. Whatever was inside had gone eerily still during the fight, but its presence gnawed at him. The sack now felt like more than just an afterthought; it seemed to carry the weight of something more sinister.

    He bent down, retrieving his discarded bow and inspecting it briefly. The wood was scuffed but intact. He tucked it under his arm as he began gathering what he could from the bodies¡ªcrude knives, bits of cloth, and a handful of grimy coins that jingled faintly in his palm.

    ¡®Let¡¯s gather up what we can, Del, old boy,¡¯ he said to himself, limping toward the clearing. ¡®I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll be needing it now.¡¯

    His eyes lingered on the sack ¡®Then see what that¡¯s all about.¡¯

 Chapter 14 â€“ A right sackful

    Del stared down at the crumpled body of the goblin at his feet, its leathery, greenish-grey skin now dulled and smeared with grime and blood. The acrid scent of its lifeless form mingled unpleasantly with the earthy undertones of the forest floor. He still felt a pang of revulsion at the act of killing¡ªthis was no mindless beast, but a creature with at least some semblance of sentience. Yet the nausea and turmoil that had gripped him after his first kill had faded. The visceral horror of that scout¡¯s death felt distant now, as if it belonged to someone else.

    ¡®Must be true what they say, Del. You can get used to anything, given time,¡¯ he thought grimly, the words echoing like a bitter mantra.

    With a grimace, he crouched down, his knees cracking faintly, and grabbed the goblin¡¯s tattered shirt. The fabric was coarse and reeked of sweat and rot, but it served well enough to clean the gore from his blade. He wiped it methodically, the streaks of dark blood glistening momentarily before smearing into the already filthy cloth. Once satisfied, he slid the sword back into its sheath with a quiet metallic rasp.

    As the adrenaline ebbed, leaving his body heavy and sluggish, a sharp throb pulsed in his arm, breaking through his awareness. He glanced down at the slash wound, its jagged edges crusted with drying blood. In the heat of the fight, the pain had been distant, a faint note amidst the symphony of chaos. Now, it sang loud and clear. He flexed his fingers experimentally, relieved to find that his grip remained firm, though the ache travelled up to his shoulder.

    The wound itself, though ugly, was puzzling. The bleeding had already slowed to a trickle, a fact that both reassured and unnerved him. Digging into his pouch, he pulled out a sprig of silverbloom, its silvery leaves bruising easily under his fingers. Crushing it into a sticky paste, he pressed the concoction against the gash. A sharp sting lanced through him, drawing a hiss between clenched teeth.

    ¡°Stings,¡± he muttered aloud, watching the paste seep into the wound with a faint shimmer.

    ¡°Misty, are you okay, girl?¡± he called, glancing over at his feline companion. She was crouched low nearby, her golden eyes glowing like twin embers against the muted green backdrop of the forest. Each movement of her sleek body was deliberate, her tail flicking rhythmically as she watched the sack with predatory focus. She seemed unbothered by the aftermath of the fight, pausing only to swipe her paw over her whiskers before continuing her silent vigil.

    Del couldn¡¯t help but glance at her again as he rose, the sharp throb in his arm briefly forgotten. There was a strange elegance to her stillness, as though the violence of the goblins¡¯ ambush had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. He envied her composure. For all her calm, though, there was no mistaking the tension coiled in her muscles, ready to spring at the first hint of danger.

    He turned his attention back to the camp. It reeked of stale smoke and unwashed bodies, the kind of smell that clung to the back of the throat no matter how shallow the breath. A sour tang of rotten meat mingled with the acrid stench of stale piss, creating a nauseating cocktail that made Del¡¯s stomach churn. Flies buzzed in lazy, erratic circles around the remnants of meals long forgotten, their drone a faint but incessant backdrop to the oppressive silence of the camp.

    Bones littered the ground, some cracked open and hollowed out for their marrow, their jagged edges glinting in the firelight. The faint sheen of grease on a few suggested they had been chewed clean only recently. Each step brought an unpleasant crunch beneath his boots as he moved closer, the brittle remains snapping sharply in the quiet. He caught sight of a small skull¡ªits contours too strange to belong to anything natural¡ªand quickly averted his gaze, swallowing the bile that threatened to rise.

    The goblins¡¯ bedding, if it could be called that, was little more than rags and straw bundled haphazardly together, their damp surfaces mouldering and stained with filth. The fire pit in the centre smouldered weakly, its embers barely holding on against the damp air. A thin curl of smoke rose languidly into the canopy, carrying with it the acrid scent of burnt wood and something far less identifiable.

    A discarded waterskin lay nearby, its leather cracked and dry, while an overturned pot spilled its charred contents onto the dirt. Among the mess, Del noticed scraps of fur and a handful of broken arrows, their shafts snapped and useless. The crude remnants of a hunting kit lay abandoned in a corner, a testament to the goblins'' disorganised existence. None of it seemed worth taking. Still, Del prodded at the mess, his gaze lingering on the battered remnants of their crude lives, a quiet unease settling over him as the scene painted an uncomfortably vivid picture of desperation and savagery.

    His eyes eventually settled on the sack. Unlike the other refuse, it moved¡ªjerking violently, its contents thrashing as though it could sense his approach. A muffled sound escaped the fabric, sharp and desperate, neither a word nor a cry but something raw and animalistic. The noise sent a chill skittering down his spine, the fine hairs on his arms prickling with unease.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Del crouched beside it, the coarse weave of the fabric rough beneath his fingers as he inspected the bindings. Whatever was inside, it was strong enough to strain against the sack¡¯s seams. His gaze flicked briefly to Misty, who had shifted closer, her body low to the ground, tail twitching in sharp, measured movements. Her golden eyes, narrowed with intensity, stayed fixed on the sack as if she could see through its layers to the source of the frantic motion within. Her ears swivelled forward, capturing every faint sound. A low growl rumbled in her throat, quiet but tense, vibrating with readiness.

    ¡°Stay sharp, girl,¡± Del murmured, his voice just above a whisper. The words felt more like an invocation, a plea for composure in the face of the unknown. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, a steady rhythm that seemed louder in the still air. He adjusted his grip on the knife, the blade glinting faintly in the weak firelight.

    With a steadying breath, he slid the knife under the knot holding the sack closed. The coarse fibres strained under the blade before snapping with a sharp twang, the sound cutting through the uneasy silence. As if triggered by the release, the sack burst open with a sudden, violent motion. Something small and filthy hurtled out, a blur of limbs and snarls. The figure moved with startling speed, its claws bared and teeth flashing in the dim light.

    Del staggered under the unexpected weight, the impact driving the breath from his lungs. His boots scraped against the dirt as he fought for balance, arms raised instinctively to ward off the attack. Nails raked against his forearms, sharp enough to draw thin lines of blood, and he winced at the sting. Misty¡¯s growl deepened, a warning snarl that vibrated through the tense air, but she held her position, coiled and ready to spring if needed.

    The figure¡¯s strength was startling, far greater than its size suggested. It twisted and thrashed with a feral desperation, clawing at him with every ounce of energy it had. Del¡¯s larger frame eventually gave him the advantage, and he managed to shift his weight, using his arms to pin the writhing form to the ground. His breathing was ragged, the exertion leaving him winded, but he held firm, his gaze finally focusing on what he had subdued.

    It was a girl. Big, dark eyes stared up at him, wide with terror and glistening with unshed tears. Her tangled hair framed a face smudged with dirt and streaked with something darker¡ªblood, perhaps, though he couldn¡¯t tell whether it was hers. Her chest heaved beneath his grip, her breaths shallow and panicked, and her ribs pressed sharply against her skin, a testament to hunger or worse. Del¡¯s stomach tightened, guilt and disbelief warring within him as he forced himself to speak.

    ¡°Okay, calm down,¡± he said, his voice low and as steady as he could manage. ¡°I¡¯m not going to hurt you.¡± His words sounded hollow to his own ears, but he pressed on, glancing briefly at the goblin¡¯s corpse nearby. ¡°The goblins are dead. You¡¯re safe now.¡±

    Her gaze darted toward the body, her trembling slowing as she seemed to process his words. Del loosened his grip, raising his hands slightly in a show of peace. ¡°I¡¯m going to let you go,¡± he said slowly. ¡°Don¡¯t run. It¡¯s dangerous out there.¡±

    He shifted back, his movements deliberate and slow, watching her every reaction. The moment his hands left her, she scrambled to her feet and backed away, her bare feet barely making a sound against the forest floor. Del raised his palms outward, his posture open and unthreatening, and took a small step back. The log behind him pressed against his legs, and he lowered himself onto it carefully, motioning toward the fire.

    ¡°There, that¡¯s better,¡± he murmured, keeping his tone soft.

    She stayed where she was, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, though her wide eyes tracked his every movement. The tension in her frame didn¡¯t ease until Del shrugged off his jerkin and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it toward her in a careful arc. She flinched but caught the fabric, her gaze darting between him and the shirt as though expecting a trap.

    ¡°For you,¡± he said simply, gesturing for her to put it on.

    Hesitantly, she turned her back and pulled the oversized shirt over her head. It hung loosely on her small frame, brushing her knees like an ill-fitting smock, but it was enough to make her seem less vulnerable. Del retrieved a length of rope from his pack, cutting off a piece and holding it out to her.

    ¡°For a belt,¡± he offered, though he doubted she could understand him. To his surprise, she stepped forward cautiously and took the rope, tying it around her waist with fumbling fingers. When she looked up again, the terror in her eyes had dimmed slightly, replaced by something else¡ªrelief, perhaps, or gratitude.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said softly, her voice hoarse but clear.

    Del¡¯s eyes widened, startled not only that she spoke but that he understood her perfectly. His concern rose as he saw tears carving tracks through the grime on her cheeks.

    ¡°I thought I was dead,¡± she continued, her voice breaking slightly. ¡°They catch and eat young elves all too regularly.¡±

    Elf? The word struck him, heavy with implications. Quickly, his mind reeled toward the Overmind system. ¡®Identify.¡¯

    Elven youth

    Level: 1

    Naturally arcane

    Strengths: Wisdom, Dexterity

    Weaknesses: Unknown

    Attacks: Unknown

    Skill: Growth

    Lore: Shy and retiring, elves are often found in deep woods where they live in harmony with nature. Naturally skilled in arcane magics. They are seldom aggressive unless threatened.

    The words floated in his vision, stark and unyielding, confirming what she had said.

 Chapter 15 â€“ Crispy bacon and conversation

    The weight of the revelation lingered as Del took a slow, steadying breath. The girl¡ªElara¡ªwas an elf, a being he¡¯d heard of in stories but never expected to encounter. As the Overmind¡¯s glowing text faded from view, he shifted his focus back to her, taking in the faint shimmer of her skin where the firelight played against it. She was watching him cautiously, her dark eyes scanning his face for some unspoken judgement.

    ¡°I¡¯m Del,¡± he said, his voice gentler than before. He tried a small smile, hoping to reassure her. ¡°And I¡¯m glad I got here before they ate you.¡±

    She hesitated for a heartbeat, then gave a quiet reply. ¡°Elara,¡± she said, her voice soft but steady. ¡°As am I.¡±

    The tension in the air eased, and Del felt a flicker of relief. ¡°Well, Elara, I¡¯m a bit messy from the fight.¡± He glanced down at his blood-smeared arm and hands, grimacing at the crusted remnants of gore. ¡°So I¡¯m going to wash up, and then I think we might use the fire to cook up something more suitable for lunch.¡±

    A faint smile touched her lips, and she nodded in agreement. Together, they made their way toward the stream, the forest around them alive with the subtle rustling of leaves and the occasional distant chirp of birds. Del felt the weight of her presence beside him, a strange mixture of curiosity and unease bubbling in his chest. She walked quietly, her bare feet making barely a sound against the forest floor, her movements light and graceful despite her earlier ordeal.

    As they reached the stream, the soft burble of water offered a soothing contrast to the grim memory of the goblin camp. Del shrugged off his jerkin, laying it on a nearby rock, and knelt to sluice the blood and dirt from his arms. The cool water stung as it hit his healing wound, but he was pleased to see it was almost fully closed. The silverbloom paste had done its job.

    ¡®I like these herby medicines,¡¯ he thought with a faint smile. Rubbing at the stubborn patches of grime, he let out a low sigh, feeling the tension of the morning¡¯s events begin to dissipate. When he looked up, he caught sight of Elara fully immersed in the water. She ducked her head beneath the surface, scrubbing vigorously at her hair, the tangled mess slowly giving way to sleek, dark strands that caught the sunlight as she resurfaced.

    Del quickly averted his gaze, focusing instead on the task of gathering wood for the fire. The sound of water splashing behind him was a constant reminder of her presence, but he forced himself to concentrate. He selected a few sturdy branches, their dry bark rough under his hands, and carried them back to the camp. Misty greeted him with a soft mewl, weaving between his legs as he set about building a simple frame to hold the pork over the flames.

    The fire crackled softly, and the rich aroma of roasting meat began to fill the clearing. Del worked methodically, mashing sage and parsley together with dripping pork fat to create a crude basting mix. As he brushed the mixture over the meat with a makeshift twig brush, he heard light footsteps approaching. He looked up to see Elara, now dressed in his oversized shirt, her wet hair hanging in sleek waves down her back. She moved hesitantly, her eyes meeting his with a mix of curiosity and gratitude.

    ¡°Smells good,¡± she said, her smile tentative but genuine.

    Del couldn¡¯t help but return it. ¡°It should be ready soon.¡± He gestured to the log across the fire, and she sat down, her movements careful and deliberate. Now that she was clean, the delicate features of her face were more apparent¡ªher gently tapered ears and the slight tilt to her eyes gave her an almost ethereal quality.

    ¡°I have to admit,¡± he said after a moment, ¡°I don¡¯t know much about elves.¡± He shrugged. ¡°To be honest, you¡¯re the first I¡¯ve ever met.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± she asked, surprise flickering across her face. ¡°I thought we were quite widespread in Gondowa; most towns and cities have plenty of elven kind within.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not actually from here,¡± Del admitted, pausing as he turned the meat. ¡°It¡¯s difficult to explain, but I¡¯m definitely new to this land.¡±

    Elara tilted her head slightly, her curiosity growing. ¡°Wow, okay. Well, I am quite young for an elf. I turned 35 last year,¡± she said, her tone light. ¡°So I don¡¯t know much of this land myself. I left the woods of my Hometree a year ago to make my way and find my own path. I want to be a nature mage. I know it¡¯s a big ambition, but I think I can do it.¡± Her enthusiasm bubbled over, a stark contrast to her earlier wariness.

    Del blinked, taken aback. ¡°Thirty-five? I thought you were a teenager or something. I¡¯m sorry¡ªplease forgive my confusion.¡±

    She laughed, the sound light and musical, like wind through the leaves. ¡°If you don¡¯t know elves, then no forgiveness is necessary.¡± She smiled warmly as he carved up the meat and handed her a portion. Her expression softened as she accepted it, and for the first time, Del felt the weight of the day¡¯s tension begin to lift.

    ¡°Elves mature slowly. We reach physical maturity a bit like you humans, around 18 or so, but we are a long-lived people, longer even than dwarves.¡±The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡®Dwarves? Of course, there are dwarves. Do I meet Snow White next?¡¯ Del thought with a flicker of bemusement, though the absurdity of the situation refused to let him fully relax.

    ¡°So at 35 years, I am considered an elder youth approaching adulthood. But I will not be a fully adult member of elven society until I am at least 40.¡±

    Del blinked, chewing thoughtfully as he processed her words. The idea of living decades and still being considered ¡°young¡± was difficult to wrap his head around. To him, 35 years was half a lifetime. The concept of slowly maturing over such a span seemed alien, yet strangely logical when he looked at her. Elara carried herself with an ethereal grace, but there was a freshness to her that hinted at inexperience, as though the weight of centuries hadn¡¯t yet touched her.

    ¡°I see,¡± he said through a mouthful of warm pork, savouring the smoky richness of the meat. ¡°So what brings you out here? I take it you¡¯re a long way from your usual area.¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± she replied, her lips curving into a faint smile. She wiped a small dribble of fatty juice from her chin, her movements delicate yet unselfconscious. ¡°Once I knew my path was to be with nature, and I¡¯d learned my first casting, I decided to head to the more populated regions and seek a master of the craft to teach me.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it dangerous to travel alone?¡± Del asked, raising an eyebrow. He gestured faintly with his fork, his tone equal parts curiosity and concern. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t know much about this land yet, but goblins don¡¯t seem like the worst of what¡¯s out there.¡±

    ¡°Yes and no.¡± She tilted her head, her expression growing thoughtful. ¡°Normally, a goblin wouldn¡¯t have been able to catch me so unaware, but¡­I was stupid.¡± Her shoulders sagged as she let out a long sigh, a shadow of regret passing over her face.

    ¡°I spotted a plant I didn¡¯t recognize and got too absorbed, didn¡¯t pay attention. Next thing I knew, I stepped into a rope trap and was hauled into the air upside-down. That little green arse was leaping up and down in glee, poking me and prodding me as if weighing up a prize steer for market. I hung there for what seemed like ages; then there were four of them, chattering around me in their foul tongue. Well, they cut me down, and before I knew it, they¡¯d stripped me and shoved me in that damn sack. That was three or four days ago now. It was hard to keep track.¡±

    Her voice wavered slightly, and she gave an involuntary shudder, her hands curling into the fabric of Del¡¯s oversized shirt. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you how lucky I was that you turned up when you did.¡±

    Del paused, struck by the weight of her words. For all her composure, he could see the vulnerability in her now, the subtle tremble in her hands and the way her gaze drifted to the fire as if unwilling to meet his.

    ¡°My pleasure, Elara. You¡¯re too pretty to be someone¡¯s dinner,¡± he said, his attempt at lightness tinged with awkward sincerity.

    She blushed, dipping her head to hide her eyes, but a soft smile played at her lips. ¡°I mean, look, I¡ªalright, I¡¯m not necessarily the best with words, but you know what I mean,¡± he stammered, letting out a nervous half-laugh.

    Elara looked up, a glint of amusement in her eyes. ¡°Yes, Del, you mean you think I¡¯m pretty.¡± Then, to his surprise, she burst into a musical laugh and poked her tongue out at him, the sound lightening the air between them.

    Misty, who had been sitting attentively nearby, chose that moment to assert her presence. With an elegant stretch, she arched her back and flicked her tail, the very picture of feline superiority. Her golden eyes locked onto Del¡¯s plate, and as they watched, she sauntered over with deliberate grace. With a single deft motion, she hooked a piece of meat between her teeth and retreated triumphantly.

    Del blinked, half-indignant, half-amused, as she leapt effortlessly into Elara¡¯s lap, carrying her prize like a conquering queen. After a quick circle to set her spot, she curled herself up. Her sleek fur glinted faintly in the firelight as she began chewing with exaggerated satisfaction. A low, rumbling purr vibrated through her, her contentment filling the quiet space like a soft melody.

    ¡°Traitor,¡± Del muttered, narrowing his eyes at the cat. Misty ignored him entirely, her tail flicking dismissively as though to say, Your opinion is irrelevant.

    Elara¡¯s chuckle broke the moment, a warm, lilting sound that softened the edges of Del¡¯s irritation. She raised a hand, hesitating briefly, before stroking Misty¡¯s fur with tentative fingers. The cat leaned into the touch, her purring intensifying as Elara¡¯s confidence grew. Soon, her strokes became rhythmic, her hand gliding over the silky coat with obvious affection.

    ¡°She¡¯s beautiful,¡± Elara said softly, her voice filled with genuine admiration. Her fingers traced along Misty¡¯s spine, earning a satisfied chirp from the cat. ¡°And so confident. It¡¯s like she knows she¡¯s in charge.¡±

    ¡°Oh, she knows,¡± Del replied dryly, crossing his arms. ¡°She¡¯s been running the show since day one.¡±

    Elara laughed again, the sound carrying an ease that felt rare in the aftermath of what she¡¯d endured. Del found himself smiling despite his feigned annoyance. Misty, now thoroughly spoiled, shifted slightly to press her head into Elara¡¯s hand, her eyes closing in pure bliss.

    ¡°See?¡± Del said, gesturing toward the cat. ¡°Completely shameless. I clean up after her, feed her, nurture her, and this is the thanks I get.¡±

    Elara glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with humour. ¡°Maybe she just knows where the best company is,¡± she teased, her fingers scratching gently behind Misty¡¯s ears. The cat stretched luxuriously in response, her tail curling in a lazy arc.

    Del shook his head, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. ¡°You¡¯re encouraging her. This won¡¯t end well for either of us, you know.¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s ending perfectly,¡± Elara countered, her voice light as she continued to fuss over Misty. For a moment, the air between them seemed warmer, the shared amusement carving out a pocket of calm amidst the strangeness of their meeting.

    ¡°So, what about you? Where are you from? I know as little about you as you do about me.¡± Her tone shifted, curiosity sharpening her gaze. ¡°You said you weren¡¯t from around here.¡±

    Del hesitated, the question hitting him like a stone dropping into still water. How much could he tell her? How much could he say without sounding utterly insane?

    ¡®Well, Del, if you tell her a lie, it better be a damned good one, or tell her as much of the truth as you need without getting labelled a lunatic,¡¯ he thought, his mind racing through possible answers.

    Deciding to tell her his story, Del takes a breath...

    And the world froze.

 Chapter 16 â€“ A fine story

    One thing Del knew for certain about his life over the past few days¡ªit was never boring. Yet, as he surveyed the frozen world around him, unease curled in his chest.

    ¡®What the hell is going on now?¡¯

    He rose slowly, his joints stiff from sitting too long by the campfire. Elara sat perfectly still, her hand hovering mid-stroke over Misty¡¯s fur. The elf¡¯s face remained frozen in serene contemplation, her eyes locked on the ginger cat as though the moment had been plucked from time. Misty, however, was anything but frozen. The cat slipped from beneath Elara¡¯s hand with a flick of her tail, padding silently across the dirt before fixing Del with a quizzical gaze.

    ¡°What do you want me to say, girl?¡± he muttered, feeling the absurdity of talking to her. ¡°I¡¯ve got no idea either.¡±

    Misty¡¯s head tilted, as though she understood the words. She turned back to Elara, sniffed delicately at her motionless fingers, then settled a piercing look on Del. Before he could process the unsettling intelligence behind those amber eyes, a small cough from behind nearly scared him out of his skin.

    Del whirled around, instinctively drawing his sword, the sound sharp in the unnatural stillness. Standing there, immaculate in her crisp business suit as if she¡¯d just stepped out of a boardroom, was Menolly.

    ¡°What the goddamn hell are you doing here?¡± Del demanded, his voice sharp with tension. He waved his free hand toward the eerie tableau of the frozen campsite. ¡°And what is this?¡± His raised sword caught the light of the halted flames, glinting like a silent warning.

    Menolly leaned back slightly, eyeing the blade with a raised brow. Her composure remained infuriatingly intact.

    Del followed her gaze, realising he was still brandishing the weapon like an idiot. ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± he muttered, sliding the sword back into its sheath. ¡°You made me jump.¡±

    ¡°May I sit?¡± she asked, unperturbed. Before Del could respond, a plain wooden chair materialised behind her with a faint pop. She settled onto it gracefully, as if such conjurations were the most natural thing in the world.

    Del blinked at the chair, then at her.

    ¡®Sure, why not? The laws of reality are clearly on holiday today.

    He sighed and looked toward the log he¡¯d been sitting on moments ago, then at her chair.

    ¡°Go¡¯ ahead, sit. Do your thing.¡±

    Del lowered himself onto the log, his muscles stiff with tension, every instinct on high alert. His eyes darted to Elara, frozen mid-motion, her hand hovering in mid-air as though caught in the act of an unfinished thought. Looking like an eerily lifelike statue, carved in the middle of some mundane moment.

    Misty, ever curious, padded silently across the campsite, her tail twitching. For a moment, the ginger cat paused in front of Menolly, her sharp eyes narrowing as though appraising the woman. Menolly offered no reaction. Misty sniffed the air, then flicked her tail dismissively and settled on the ground a short distance away, grooming herself with deliberate disinterest.

    Del¡¯s gaze shifted, catching on the flies suspended above the goblin corpses, their tiny bodies frozen mid-buzz. The unnatural stillness of it all made his skin crawl, as if the entire world had been trapped in some cruel, glassy limbo. Everything about the scene felt wrong¡ªtoo sharp, too vivid, like a dream teetering on the edge of a nightmare.

    His breath hitched as he forced himself to look away. The tension in his chest loosened slightly when his eyes met Menolly¡¯s calm, steady gaze.

    ¡®At least she moves like a normal person,¡¯ he thought bitterly.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he said, breaking the silence and motioning toward her with an exaggerated sweep of his hand. ¡°What¡¯s all this about, then? You¡¯ve got my attention. Start explaining.¡±

    Menolly¡¯s gaze swept across the campsite, lingering briefly on the dead goblins and then on Elara. Her serene demeanour seemed incongruous with the bloodied, frozen reality surrounding them.

    ¡°This,¡± she said, her voice calm and even, ¡°is the beginning of your first major cuvat according to the Overmind. It was decided that delivering the details in person would be... clearer than a system message.¡± Her words carried that same unyielding authority he¡¯d heard before, though softened by an undercurrent of patience. ¡°And so, here I am.¡±

    Del raised a brow. ¡°Fair enough, but was the theatrical freezing of the world really necessary? I mean¡ª¡± he gestured again, sweeping toward the frozen tableau, ¡°¡ªthis is all a bit much, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Menolly¡¯s head tilted slightly, her expression remaining composed. ¡°You have been stepped outside time before, so the situation is not entirely unfamiliar to you. As for my appearance, it was deemed the most efficient means of avoiding disruption.¡±

    Del snorted. ¡°Efficient. Right.¡± His tone dripped with sarcasm. ¡°Fine, you¡¯ve stepped me outside time, dropped into my camp, and conjured up a chair. What¡¯s the big reveal? What¡¯s this new cuvat thing, and why drop it on me now?¡±Stolen story; please report.

    Menolly leaned forward, the air around her faintly shimmering with an indefinable energy. ¡°As you are aware,¡± she began, ¡°your primary task¡ªor cuvat¡ªis survival. The Overmind is continuously assessing your adaptability as a representative of your species as a whole.¡±

    Del¡¯s lips quirked into a sardonic smile. ¡°Yeah, BB¡¯s watching me.¡± He tapped his temple for effect.

    Her brows knitted briefly in a frown at the nickname but smoothed as quickly as it appeared. ¡°Indeed,¡± she replied crisply. ¡°And this new cuvat concerns Elara.¡± She glanced at the young elf before returning her gaze to Del. ¡°Terras is a world in flux, a place of evolving tensions and shifting dynamics. This is especially true here in Gondowa. Just as your own reality experienced eras of turmoil and change, so does this one.¡±

    Del shifted uncomfortably on the log. ¡°Right. And how does that tie into my primary cuvat?¡±

    Menolly¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, her tone firm. ¡°The main purpose of this intervention is to prevent you from making a critical error. You cannot, under any circumstances, tell Elara¡ªor anyone else¡ªabout where you¡¯re from or why you¡¯re here. Doing so would jeopardise your task and almost certainly cost you your life.¡±

    Her words landed like a blow. Del stared at her, stunned. ¡°What the hell am I supposed to say, then?¡± he demanded. ¡°It¡¯s not like I blend in here. Anyone with half a brain can tell I¡¯m not from around these parts.¡±

    Menolly¡¯s expression softened slightly. ¡°May I?¡± she asked, extending her hand toward him.

    Del hesitated, his instincts screaming against trusting her. But the weight of her words left him no real choice. With a reluctant nod, he allowed her to place a hand on his head.

    The rush of information that followed was overwhelming, a torrent of images and impressions that left him reeling. Del clutched at the edge of the log, his breath hitching as he tried to make sense of the flood pouring into his mind. Too fast to fully comprehend, yet somehow... it settled, imprinting itself deep in his thoughts.

    ¡°This is the Isle of Starnd,¡± Menolly said, her tone even as her eyes seemed to pierce right through him. ¡°The place doesn¡¯t exist, so you won¡¯t meet anyone else from there. But anyone you tell of it will have either heard of it or accept what you say as real.¡± She smiled faintly, the gesture disarming in its simplicity. ¡°This way, you have a background that cannot be checked or challenged but will also explain your lack of knowledge about the world at large.¡±

    Del blinked, letting her words sink in. An entire make-believe island, woven into the fabric of this world as if it had always existed. He tilted his head, considering the implications.

    ¡®Well, it¡¯s better than nothing,¡¯ he thought.

    Until now, he¡¯d had no explanation for the gaping holes in his understanding of Gondowa, no way to justify the questions that could paint him as a liability¡ªor worse, a threat.

    The name itself conjured an image in his mind, unbidden and vivid. Starnd. It sounded rugged, remote, like something pulled from a seafarer¡¯s tale. For a moment, Del closed his eyes, letting the details take shape in his imagination.

    It was an island that seemed to defy time. Jagged cliffs ringed its edges, battered endlessly by white-crested waves. The air was salt-laden, bracing and sharp, carrying the cries of seabirds that nested in the rocky crags. Inland, the land softened into rolling hills blanketed in emerald green. Patches of forest dotted the landscape, their trees ancient and gnarled, as though they had been witnesses to countless generations. A single mountain dominated the horizon, its peak shrouded in perpetual mist.

    The people of Starnd were a hardy lot, he imagined, their lives shaped by the island¡¯s isolation. They fished the bountiful waters, farmed the sparse but fertile soil, and carved out a quiet existence far from the politics and strife of the mainland. There were no elves, dwarves, or gnomes among their number¡ªjust humans, bound together by necessity and tradition. The village was small, their homes built of stone and timber, their roofs thatched to withstand the relentless sea winds.

    ¡®Not too much detail, Del,¡¯ he cautioned himself. ¡®You¡¯ll need enough to spin a convincing yarn if anyone asks, but don¡¯t overdo it.¡¯ His thoughts churned as he tried to balance plausibility with mystery.

    Menolly¡¯s gaze flicked to Elara, her expression unreadable. ¡°Your cuvat is to help her,¡± she said simply, her voice cutting through his reverie. ¡°How you do that is up to you, but she is in more danger than even she realises, and her story has yet to unfold. It is potentially something that could affect the entire dynamic of life in Gondowa¡ªor simply lead to a life of quiet reflection and magical experimentation.¡±

    Del followed her gaze, his eyes resting on the young elf. Elara sat motionless, her features serene, her hand still poised mid-stroke as though she had all the time in the world. Which, in this frozen moment, she did. Her vulnerability struck him anew. She might not realise the full scope of the dangers she faced, but Del had seen enough to know that this world didn¡¯t grant second chances lightly.

    He turned back to Menolly, frustration bubbling to the surface. ¡°And that¡¯s it?¡± he demanded. ¡°Nothing more? No hints or clues as to what the actual fuck I¡¯m supposed to do to help her?¡±

    Menolly¡¯s serene smile didn¡¯t falter. ¡°Good luck, Del. You¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Before he could say another word, the chair beneath her vanished, and with it, Menolly herself. One moment she was there, as solid as the ground beneath his feet, and the next, the space she¡¯d occupied was empty. The world around him shuddered, then spun back into motion like a clockwork toy wound too tightly.

    Elara blinked, her hand resuming its gentle stroke along Misty¡¯s fur. Misty gave a low, contented purr, casting a sidelong glance at Del as if to ask, What just happened?

    Del didn¡¯t answer. His mind was too full, the details of the Isle of Starnd swirling in his thoughts like the sea mist that he now imagined clinging to its shores. He glanced down at Misty, who had sidled up to him, brushing against his leg.

    ¡°Well, girl,¡± he murmured, scratching behind her ears, ¡°I guess we¡¯ve got ourselves a backstory. Rugged island life, salt in the air, isolation from the rest of the world. What do you think? Sound convincing enough?¡±

    Misty blinked at him, her amber eyes reflecting the flickering firelight. Del huffed a quiet laugh. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not sure either,¡± he muttered. ¡°But it¡¯s all we¡¯ve got.¡± He glanced toward Elara again, noting the faint crease of curiosity on her brow as she focused on Misty.

    ¡®I¡¯ll have to be careful,¡¯ he thought. ¡®Give just enough detail to satisfy her questions without digging myself into a hole I can¡¯t climb out of. Starnd will have to be real to me first if I¡¯m going to sell it to anyone else.¡¯

    He let out a long breath and pushed himself to his feet, brushing the dirt from his hands. The fire crackled softly, the rhythmic song of the river returning as if nothing had changed. But everything had. The weight of Menolly¡¯s words settled over him, heavy and unyielding. Whatever role he was meant to play in this world, it seemed to be growing more complex by the minute.

 Chapter 17 â€“ How not to hit a target

    Elara¡¯s brow furrowed for a moment, her puzzled expression lingering as though she were trying to piece together some unseen conundrum. Before Del could decide whether to comment, Misty leapt gracefully back into her lap, reclaiming her rightful place as the centre of attention. The elf¡¯s hand resumed its rhythmic strokes along the cat¡¯s sleek ginger fur, and Misty rewarded her with a low, contented purr.

    Del leaned back slightly, letting out a breath he hadn¡¯t realised he¡¯d been holding. ¡®This is damned weird,¡¯ he thought, his gaze flicking between the two. ¡®No time has passed for her, yet I just had a whole conversation with that damn cybo-whatever she is.¡¯ The surreal nature of it all hung heavy in his chest, but he pushed the thought aside for now. There was no point dwelling on things he couldn¡¯t change.

    ¡°I¡¯m a bit new here myself,¡± he said, picking up where the conversation had left off before Menolly¡¯s abrupt interruption. His voice was steady, casual, though his mind raced to keep his fabricated story straight. ¡°Like you, I¡¯m searching for my proper path, and this is my first time in Gondowa.¡± He shrugged, forcing a small smile. ¡°I¡¯m from a small island in the Western Sea. There aren¡¯t many of us there¡ªno elves, no dwarves, or anything else. Just a handful of human families living the quiet life. I wasn¡¯t happy and felt I needed more, so... here I am.¡±

    Elara¡¯s gaze softened, curiosity mingling with a hint of understanding. Del pressed on, trying to sound as natural as possible. ¡°I¡¯ve only been on the mainland a few days, and already I¡¯ve had quite a few things try to kill me. It¡¯s been... an adjustment.¡±

    A wry chuckle escaped him as he added, ¡°Before I came here, the most dangerous thing I had to deal with was an angry bee when I tried to steal its honey.¡±

    That earned a laugh from her, light and melodic. Her eyes drifted briefly to the nearest goblin corpse, the humour in her expression mingling with something darker. ¡°I¡¯m glad your pest control skills have improved,¡± she said dryly.

    ¡°So, what now, Elara?¡± Del asked, leaning forward slightly. ¡°What are your plans? I don¡¯t have much of a plan myself, so if you want some company, I¡¯m happy to tag along and see where the road takes us.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± She tilted her head thoughtfully, her fingers absently scratching behind Misty¡¯s ears as the cat nuzzled into her hand. ¡°I need to get to a city eventually if I¡¯m going to find a master mage. But I¡¯m not exactly sure where yet, since I¡¯m a bit like you.¡± Her lips quirked into a self-deprecating smile. ¡°Maybe I haven¡¯t been quite so isolated from the world¡¯s realities, but it¡¯s my first time leaving the protection of the Hometree.¡±

    ¡°The Hometree?¡± Del asked, intrigued despite himself. ¡°You make it sound like a prison.¡±

    She laughed softly, shaking her head. ¡°Not a prison, exactly, but parents and elders can be so... restricting. ¡®Don¡¯t do this, don¡¯t do that,¡¯¡± she said, her voice pitching in a light imitation of a stern authority figure. ¡°Maybe ¡®escape¡¯ is a bit strong, but it was certainly a relief to get out from under their constant gaze.¡±

    ¡°Fair comment,¡± Del said, nodding. ¡°I never had children, but I saw enough of my friends with theirs to know what you mean.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s never too late,¡± she replied, her tone laced with humour. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of challenge and amusement as she regarded him.

    Del couldn¡¯t help but laugh, though the sound was tinged with irony. ¡°I passed fifty a while back,¡± he said, spreading his hands. ¡°I doubt anyone would be fool enough to want to continue my line.¡±

    ¡°Fifty is not old,¡± Elara said matter-of-factly, though her tone carried an edge of teasing. ¡°Not even for you short-lived humans.¡±

    Her words sparked a rueful smile from Del.

    ¡®Ahh, the joys of youth,¡¯ he thought, leaning back slightly as her words settled over him. It wasn¡¯t a conversation he¡¯d expected to have, but there was something oddly comforting in the banter.

    Getting practical, Del began clearing the site, stamping out the embers of the dying fire and brushing away traces of their presence. The world around them felt oddly calm in the aftermath of recent chaos, the chirp of distant birds and the soft rustle of the trees slowly filling the silence. He glanced over at Elara, who sat cross-legged on the ground, absentmindedly scratching Misty¡¯s ears.

    ¡°It won¡¯t be safe to stay here too long,¡± he said, his tone pragmatic. ¡°Do you have any idea what they did with your gear after they caught you?¡±

    Elara sighed and shook her head, her expression shadowed by frustration. ¡°I wish,¡± she replied. ¡°They were on the move almost constantly. I couldn¡¯t see anything from in that sack where they had dumped me¡ªsometimes I could hear the river, but not always. It¡¯s probably long gone by now.¡±

    She gave a small shrug, the gesture heavy with resignation. Del frowned. He¡¯d seen firsthand how critical the right tools could be out here, and the loss of her belongings added another layer of vulnerability to their situation.

    ¡°Can you use a sword? A knife? A bow?¡± he asked, his mind already cataloguing what he had to spare. ¡°You said you¡¯re a mage. What combat spells do you know? I¡¯d like to have some idea of what we¡¯re working with if¡ªno, when¡ªwe run into trouble.¡±

    Elara tilted her head, considering. ¡°I can use a bow,¡± she said slowly. ¡°Elves tend to be good with bows¡ªit¡¯s in our blood, or so they say.¡± She hesitated, her voice dropping a little. ¡°And a knife, well enough. But as for spells... I can make a plant grow, a bit. That¡¯s about it.¡±

    Her gaze dropped to her hands, fingers curling slightly into her palms. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet, almost hesitant. ¡°I guess I¡¯m pretty useless, all things considered.¡±

    ¡°Hey,¡± Del said firmly, stepping closer. He crouched down, using a gentle finger to tilt her chin until their eyes met. ¡°You¡¯re not useless. Can you teach me to use a bow? I know the basics, but most of my hits have been more luck than skill. And as for your magic¡ªmaking a plant grow could be incredibly useful. What if we find something edible but it¡¯s not ripe? You could make it ready for us. That¡¯s a talent worth having.¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Elara¡¯s lips curved into a small smile, faint but genuine. Misty, as if sensing the mood, leaned into her hand with a soft purr, drawing a quiet laugh from the elf.

    ¡°Shall we head out, then?¡± Del asked, straightening. ¡°We¡¯ll keep an eye out for a good spot to practice with the bow.¡± He turned to Misty, giving a short, playful whistle. ¡°Go on, girl, scout ahead for us.¡±

    Misty flicked her tail, bounding off into the underbrush with a silent grace that Del envied. He handed Elara one of the spare knives and she slung the bow over her shoulder. For himself, he kept a knife and two swords¡ªa patchwork arsenal, but it would have to do.

    ¡®All you need now, Del, is a patch and a parrot, and you could be a pirate,¡¯ he thought, a grin tugging at his lips. ¡®Ooo arr, lad, pieces of fekkin¡¯ eight.¡¯

    The terrain was quiet as they moved, the forest dappled with sunlight and alive with the occasional rustle of small creatures. Now and then, Del caught sight of something rabbit-like darting between the trees, but the creatures¡¯ sharp teeth and unsettling stares made him think twice about calling them rabbits. ¡®Are rabbits supposed to have pointy teeth and eat mice?¡¯ he wondered grimly. He hoped not.

    After a couple of hours, Misty reappeared on the riverbank ahead, grooming herself in the sunlight with a casual nonchalance that suggested she¡¯d found something useful. Sure enough, Del spotted the mud bank opposite¡ªa tall, smooth wall rising above a small sand spit. It was ideal for archery practice, almost suspiciously so.

    ¡®Damn cat understands more than I give her credit for,¡¯ he thought, approaching her with a grin. He crouched down to scratch behind her ears. ¡°Good girl, Misty, you did good.¡±

    Misty blinked at him slowly, a loud purr rumbling from her chest, before returning to her grooming. Del kicked off his boots and waded across the river, the cold water biting at his skin. He grabbed a stick and began drawing in the mud¡ªa round target, rough and uneven, and beside it, a misshapen blob to represent a goblin.

    Returning to Elara, Del held out his hand for the bow with an exaggerated flourish. ¡°Now then,¡± he said, flashing a self-deprecating grin. ¡°Prepare to witness a masterclass in how not to use a bow.¡±

    Elara tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly. ¡°But you hit the goblins,¡± she said, sounding genuinely curious.

    ¡°That,¡± Del replied as he nocked an arrow, ¡°was less about skill and more about blind panic combined with a huge amount of luck. Watch and learn.¡±

    He drew back the string, taking aim at the crude circle in the mud. The arrow sailed wide, disappearing into the underbrush with a faint rustle. Del frowned but quickly nocked another arrow, determined to at least graze the target this time. Five more attempts followed, and by the end, the circle had suffered a single pitiful scratch while the surrounding mud bore the brunt of his enthusiasm.

    Elara watched the spectacle in silence, her lips twitching with suppressed laughter. As the last arrow thudded harmlessly into the mud far from its mark, she broke into a broad grin. ¡°I agree,¡± she said lightly, a teasing lilt in her voice. ¡°But I do thank you for having the luck to save my life. It¡¯s good to know your fear can be weaponised.¡±

    Del laughed, gesturing toward Misty, who had perched herself nearby and was watching the proceedings with the unmistakable air of a critic. ¡°Ah now, Elara, it wasn¡¯t just luck. I had my secret ginger weapon.¡±

    Misty¡¯s ears twitched, and she flicked her tail dismissively, her gaze sweeping over Del with a look that was nothing short of exasperated. It was almost as if she were thinking, I cannot believe I¡¯m stuck with this idiot.

    Del chuckled at her silent judgment, shaking his head. ¡°Yeah, I get it, girl. Don¡¯t start. I¡¯m working on it.¡±

    He collected the arrows and returned to Elara, who was now leaning casually against a tree, her arms crossed and the bow slung over one shoulder. She raised a brow as he approached.

    ¡°Alright,¡± she said, pushing off from the tree. ¡°Step aside. Let me show you how it¡¯s done.¡±

    Del handed her the bow, folding his arms as he stepped back to watch. ¡°Go on, Legolas. Impress me.¡±

    Elara smirked, raising the bow with effortless grace. She nocked an arrow and drew the string back smoothly, her movements fluid and precise. "Who''s Legolas?" She asked as she loosed the arrow, which struck the centre of the circle with a satisfying thunk. She followed it with two more shots in quick succession, both landing near the first, forming a neat cluster.

    Del whistled, clapping slowly. ¡°Some guy from my island''s history, supposed to be good with a bow." Looking across the river again he added. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll admit it¡ªthat was impressive. Now I feel bad for all those goblins. They didn¡¯t stand a chance, did they?¡±

    Elara lowered the bow, casting him a sly look. ¡°You know, it¡¯s not all in the blood,¡± she said. ¡°It takes practice. And patience.¡±

    ¡°Two things I¡¯m short on,¡± Del quipped. ¡°But I¡¯m a fast learner.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Elara replied, handing the bow back to him. ¡°Because right now, you couldn¡¯t hit a target the size of the Hometree.¡±

    Del placed a hand over his heart, mock wounded. ¡°Ouch. That was uncalled for.¡±

    Misty let out a soft chirrup, and Del glanced over at her to find her blinking slowly, the feline equivalent of rolling her eyes. He could practically hear her thinking, She¡¯s right, you know.

    Elara stepped closer, adjusting Del¡¯s grip on the bow and gently nudging his shoulder. ¡°Relax,¡± she said, her tone lighter now. ¡°Stop fighting the bow like it owes you money. Let it guide you.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Del muttered, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. He followed her instructions, relaxing his stance as she stepped beside him. ¡°How¡¯s this?¡±

    ¡°Better,¡± Elara said, her voice encouraging. ¡°Now, control your breathing. Slow, steady. In through your nose, out through your mouth.¡±

    Del inhaled deeply, exhaling in time with her instructions. He drew the string back, feeling less tension this time as the bow seemed to settle into his hands. When he released the arrow, it struck the outer ring of the circle¡ªnot perfect, but an improvement.

    ¡°See?¡± Elara said, smiling. ¡°You¡¯re getting there. Now do it again.¡±

    They continued for the next hour, Elara offering small adjustments and encouragement while Del gradually grew more comfortable. Each hit, even the small ones, sent a ripple of satisfaction through him, and he found himself enjoying the rhythm of it.

    Misty, meanwhile, stretched out on a sunny patch of grass, watching them with her usual mix of aloofness and amusement. Occasionally, she flicked her tail or chirped softly, as if offering her own unsolicited critique. When Del finally managed to strike the blob-goblin target dead centre, she gave him a slow blink that seemed almost approving.

    ¡°See, even Misty¡¯s impressed,¡± Del said, grinning as he retrieved the arrows.

    ¡°She¡¯s probably just relieved,¡± Elara teased. ¡°Less chance of you skewering her by accident.¡±

    Del laughed, shaking his head. ¡°Not fair. I¡¯m improving.¡±

    ¡°You are,¡± she conceded, handing him another arrow. ¡°But you¡¯ve still got a long way to go.¡±

    As the afternoon wore on, Del¡¯s confidence grew, his shots becoming more consistent. By the time the sun began to dip below the trees, he was regularly hitting the circle and occasionally even the blob-goblin. A soft chime echoed in his mind as he loosed his final arrow.

    [Archery Skill has Increased slightly]

    Del handed Elara the bow and grinned inwardly. ''Well, there¡¯s proof I¡¯m not completely hopeless.''

    Elara smiled, slinging the bow over her shoulder. ¡°Don''t worry to much Del. You¡¯re getting there.¡±

    Misty let out a final chirp, stretching luxuriously before padding over to Del. She brushed against his leg, her tail flicking against him in what he hoped was approval.

    ¡°All right, all right,¡± Del muttered, scratching behind her ears. ¡°Let¡¯s call it a day before my ego takes any more hits.¡±

 Chapter 18 â€“ Bramble-camp

    The decision to stop and find a camp for the night came as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees. The fading light gave the forest an almost spectral quality, the chirping of birds falling silent and replaced by the occasional rustle of leaves or distant calls of unseen creatures. Del waded back across the stream one last time, collecting his spent arrows. Mud clung stubbornly to the shafts, and the cold water bit at his skin as he worked to clean them. A stark reminder of how truly exposed they were.

    Ahead of him, Misty padded silently along the forest floor, her movements deliberate as she scouted for a suitable campsite. Her tail flicked in a rhythmic arc, her posture conveying a sense of purpose that Del couldn¡¯t help but admire.

    ¡°Find us something good, girl,¡± he muttered, watching the cat disappear into the undergrowth like a shadow.

    Elara walked quietly beside him, her gaze scanning the forest with a mix of wariness and curiosity. The weight of the day¡¯s events seemed to hang over her, her hands brushing absently against the bow slung over her shoulder. After a long silence, she spoke.

    ¡°I¡¯d feel better if I had my gear,¡± she said softly, her tone tinged with frustration.

    Del glanced at her, offering a faint smile meant to reassure. ¡°We¡¯ll find something to replace it,¡± he said. ¡°Misty¡¯s got a knack for this sort of thing.¡±

    True to form, Misty reappeared not long after, her tail held high as she led them toward a dense thicket of thorn bushes. The brambles were twisted and gnarled, forming a natural barrier that even the most determined predator would think twice about breaching. Misty paused at the edge, her head tilting back in a way that seemed to say, This will do.

    Elara stepped closer, studying the dense tangle of thorns with sharp, assessing eyes. ¡°There¡¯s a path,¡± she said, pointing to a narrow, almost hidden opening in the brush.

    They followed her lead, pushing through the tight entrance into a small clearing at the centre of the thicket. The ground was dry and soft, scattered with fallen leaves and free of any immediate dangers.

    Del surveyed the spot, his hands resting on his hips. ¡°Well,¡± he said, ¡°it¡¯s not a five-star inn, but it looks safe enough.¡± For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, taking in the relative safety of the space.

    ¡°We won¡¯t risk a fire,¡± Del said, his gaze sweeping the clearing. ¡°But it should be warm enough without one.¡±

    Elara nodded, moving toward the narrow entrance. Her fingers hovered just above the thorny stems on either side, her expression thoughtful. ¡°Let me try something,¡± she murmured.

    Del watched as she closed her eyes, her lips moving silently. Almost immediately, a strange sensation prickled at the edges of his awareness¡ªa warmth that seemed to radiate from her hands and pulse faintly in the air. Del wasn¡¯t sure, but it almost felt as if there was a resonating echo faintly within his own gut. The thorny branches began to shift, emitting a soft green glow as they twisted and wove together, sealing the entrance until it looked as though it had never existed.

    ¡°Wow,¡± Del breathed, the word escaping him unbidden.

    Despite everything he¡¯d experienced over the past few days¡ªMenolly¡¯s strange appearances, the frozen moments outside time¡ªthis felt different. This was magic in its purest, most tangible form, and it left him awestruck.

    Elara opened her eyes, a shy smile playing on her lips as she turned to face him. ¡°It¡¯s just a simple spell,¡± she said modestly. ¡°But it should keep us safe for the night.¡±

    ¡°That was incredible,¡± Del said, his voice hoarse with genuine wonder.

    She laughed softly, the sound light and musical. ¡°Anyone would think you¡¯d never seen a casting before.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t,¡± Del admitted, shaking his head. ¡°Where I¡¯m from, we have a few tricksters and illusionists, but no real magic. That was... something else.¡±

    Elara tilted her head, her expression turning curious. ¡°No magic? None at all?¡±

    ¡°None,¡± he said. ¡°Just smoke and mirrors. Nothing like this.¡± He gestured toward the glowing thorns, their light casting gentle shadows across the clearing.

    She seemed to ponder this for a moment, her gaze flicking between him and the sealed entrance. ¡°You must find it strange,¡± she said finally.

    ¡°Strange? Yeah.¡± He let out a short laugh. ¡°But in a good way. It¡¯s... refreshing, I guess. Feels real. If that makes sense.¡±

    Her smile deepened, and for a moment, the tension in her shoulders seemed to ease. Misty, who had settled herself in the middle of the clearing, stretched luxuriously before giving them both a look that seemed to say, Are you done being impressed yet?

    ¡°All right, all right,¡± Del muttered, crouching down to scratch behind her ears. ¡°You found the spot. You win. Don¡¯t let it go to your head.¡±

    Misty purred loudly, her tail flicking with what he could only interpret as smug satisfaction. Elara giggled softly, settling herself on the ground near the centre of the clearing.

    ¡°We should set up for the night,¡± she said, her tone practical again. ¡°Do you need help?¡±

    Del glanced around the confined space, noting the simplicity of their surroundings. ¡°Not much to do, really,¡± he said. ¡°Just a matter of getting comfortable.¡±

    As Del and Elara set about preparing the camp, the forest grew quieter, the day¡¯s light fading into twilight. The air cooled, and a faint breeze stirred the branches above, rustling the leaves with a soft, almost rhythmic sound. Their evening meal was simple¡ªcold pork leftover from earlier, a handful of berries Elara had gathered, and water from the stream. Elara, with a small flourish, created a faint orb of light that hovered between them, just bright enough to illuminate their immediate surroundings without drawing unwanted attention.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Del watched her as she worked the spell, fascinated by the way her fingers moved, precise yet delicate, as though weaving an invisible thread. The soft glow cast her features in a warm light, highlighting the slight curve of her smile.

    ¡°Handy,¡± Del said, gesturing to the orb. ¡°I¡¯d ask how it works, but I¡¯d probably need a few years and a lot more brain cells to understand.¡±

    Elara laughed, a gentle sound that carried easily in the stillness. ¡°It¡¯s not difficult,¡± she said modestly. ¡°At least not this one. It¡¯s just a light spell¡ªa first-year apprentice could manage it.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m impressed,¡± Del replied, tearing off a piece of pork. ¡°Where I¡¯m from, people would call that sorcery and run screaming. Or try to burn you at the stake.¡±

    Her smile faltered slightly, her gaze dropping to the food in her hands. ¡°There was a time when magic was feared here, too,¡± she said softly. ¡°Some still fear it. But in most places, people have come to accept it as part of life.¡±

    Del chewed thoughtfully, nodding. ¡°Sounds like a step up from where I¡¯m from. There, we just pretend it doesn¡¯t exist.¡±

    The conversation drifted to lighter topics as they ate, the initial awkwardness between them giving way to a more relaxed camaraderie. Elara began to speak of her childhood, and Del found himself listening with genuine interest. She described the Hometree in vivid detail, painting a picture of a place that seemed more dream than reality.

    ¡°It¡¯s not just one tree,¡± she explained, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke. ¡°The Hometree is... well, it¡¯s a forest unto itself. A massive tree with multiple trunks, all connected by walkways and paths that span the entire canopy. Homes are grown directly into the trunks, and some of the larger branches hold entire villages.¡±

    Del leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ¡°Grown into the trunks? How does that work?¡±

    ¡°Magic, of course,¡± she said with a teasing smile. ¡°The Hometree responds to the needs of its people. It provides shelter, food, and protection. It¡¯s alive in a way that most places aren¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°It sounds incredible,¡± Del admitted, picturing the towering tree with its sprawling network of interconnected homes. ¡°I can see why people wouldn¡¯t want to leave.¡±

    ¡°Most don¡¯t,¡± Elara said, her tone growing quieter. ¡°Those who stay live in harmony with the tree, tending to it and each other. But it can feel... suffocating, sometimes. The elders watch everything, always telling you what you can and can¡¯t do. Leaving wasn¡¯t easy, but I knew I had to.¡±

    Del nodded, understanding the pull of independence. ¡°And now you¡¯re out here, chasing your path.¡±

    She smiled, though it was tinged with melancholy. ¡°Something like that.¡±

    Misty, stretched out beside them, gave a loud yawn, as if bored by the sentimental turn in the conversation. She rolled onto her back, her paws kneading the air in slow, deliberate movements. Del reached over to scratch her belly, earning a contented purr.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got no appreciation for a good story, do you?¡± he teased. Misty¡¯s slow blink was answer enough.

    As the meal wound down, Del noticed Elara stifling a yawn. Her movements grew slower, her eyelids heavy. ¡°Time to call it a night,¡± he said gently.

    She nodded, rolling up as best she could in a tattered goblin cloak. ¡°Goodnight, Del.¡±

    ¡°Goodnight, Elara,¡± he replied, watching as she lay down and drifted quickly to sleep. Her soft snores soon blended with the ambient sounds of the forest, a comforting reminder that they were, at least for now, safe.

    Del leaned back against his pack, using it as a makeshift pillow. The green glow of the thorns still faintly lit the clearing, casting long shadows that danced with the swaying branches overhead. He stared at the canopy for a moment, his mind wandering through the events of the day. Then, almost as an afterthought, he called up his log.

    Sure enough, a blinking blue icon awaited him.

    [Congratulations, you have enough experience to level up. Would you like to level up now?]

    He blinked, surprised by how much he¡¯d forgotten in the chaos of the day. A small smile tugged at his lips. ¡®Yes,¡¯ he thought.

    The familiar overlay of his stat sheet appeared, the now-familiar interface somehow comforting in its predictability. A notice informed him he had two points to assign to his stats. Del considered his options carefully, thinking back on the moments that had tested him most. Strength and Dexterity had been crucial in every fight so far, and it made sense to bolster them further. He assigned one point to each.

    [Archery Skill has Increased slightly. Congratulations, Archery is now Level 3. You have gained a special attack: Archery Mastery.]

    ¡®Not bad,¡¯ Del thought, his chest swelling with a small sense of accomplishment. All the practice had paid off, and the system had seen fit to reward him for it. He tapped through the menus, curious to see what else had changed.

    Misty¡¯s stat sheet caught his eye, and he couldn¡¯t help but grin as he saw the update.

    [Companion Misty has Leveled Up. Intelligence increased by 2]

    ¡°Well, that explains why we¡¯ve started to understand each other better,¡± he murmured, glancing down at the cat. She cracked one eye open, giving him a look that could only be described as smug.

    ¡°I suppose you¡¯d say the problem of understanding was all me, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± he teased. Misty purred softly in response, leaning into his hand as he scratched behind her ears. ¡°Yeah, yeah. You¡¯re probably right.¡±

    For a while, he simply sat there, absently scrolling through his stats and reflecting on how far he¡¯d come in such a short time. The clearing felt peaceful, almost serene, and for the first time in days, he allowed himself to relax. As his eyes grew heavier, the soft sounds of the forest lulled him into a light, dreamless sleep.

    Name: Del Axholm

    Level: 2

    Path: Archer

    Health: 24

    Strength: 16

    Dexterity: 17

    Stamina: 16

    Intelligence: 11

    Wisdom: 12

    Mana: 11

    Spirit: 12

    Agility: 19

    Presence: 10

    Animal Companion: Misty; feline

    Skills:

    Archery lvl 3 ¨C Able to use all manner of handheld bows and crossbows

    Woodcraft lvl 2 ¨C Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.

    Tracking lvl 1 ¨C Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.

    Traps lvl 1 ¨C Can make basic snares and pit traps.

    Sneak lvl 2 ¨C Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.

    Herbalism lvl 2 ¨C Can identify and gather basic herbs.

    Skinning lvl 1 ¨C Can manage to crudely strip the skin from a carcass.

    Attacks:

    Bow lvl 3 ¨C Simple Shot.

    Sword lvl 1 ¨C Cut, thrust.

    Dagger lvl 1 ¨C Stab, Slash.

    Special Attacks:

    Bow:

    Sneak attack lvl 1 ¨C Doubles damage

    Master Archer lvl 1¨C Cost 1 Stamina: Increased damage and chance of critical hit.

    Dagger:

    Backstab lvl 1 ¨C Double damage.

    Name: Misty

    Level: 2

    Path: Feline Companion

    Health: 30

    Strength: 8

    Dexterity: 18

    Stamina: 13

    Intelligence: 6

    Wisdom: 6

    Mana: 6

    Spirit: 6

    Agility: 20

    Presence: 12

    Skills:

    Charm lvl 2 ¨C Can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.

    Attacks:

    Claw lvl 2 ¨C Attack with front claws.

    Rake lvl 2¨C Double rear leg attack.

    Bite lvl 1 ¨C Its teeth all the way.

    Special Attacks:

    Pounce lvl 2 ¨C Can be used with any or all of the standard attacks. Double damage, with a small chance to cause target to stumble.

    Sneak Pounce lvl 2 ¨C As above; Triple damage.

 Chapter 19 â€“ Magic and mayhem

    It was late into the morning, the golden light of the rising sun filtering through the dense canopy above. The river beside them carved its path through the forest, its gentle murmur providing a soothing backdrop as they followed its meandering course. Elara moved with an ease born of familiarity, her sharp eyes scanning the undergrowth as she pointed out clusters of edible plants. She identified wild carrots nestled among the grasses, their feathery tops swaying in the breeze, and clusters of berries glistening like tiny jewels in the dappled sunlight. A crooked apple tree caught their attention, its fruit still green and unripe but promising for the future.

    Their conversation was sporadic, careful to keep their voices low. The stillness of the forest seemed alive with the possibility of danger, every rustle of leaves or distant bird call a reminder that they weren¡¯t alone in these woods. Even so, the quiet exchanges brought a sense of camaraderie, a fragile connection in a world that often felt hostile.

    Del shared light-hearted stories from his youth¡ªcarefully chosen for their vagueness to keep his origins obscured. He described building a rope swing over a river and plunging into the water when the branch gave way, or hunting for bird eggs on precarious ledges. Misty¡¯s antics also featured heavily, her knack for mischief earning a genuine laugh from Elara.

    She reciprocated with tales of her own childhood, painting vivid pictures of life among the Hometree¡¯s soaring branches. ¡°I¡¯d wake to birdsong,¡± she said, her voice tinged with wistfulness. ¡°And we¡¯d race along the high walkways, chasing each other in endless games of tag. It felt like we could reach the clouds.¡±

    Her stories shifted to her early lessons with the bow, and though she downplayed her skill, the fondness in her tone told a different story. ¡°I¡¯m not that good,¡± she insisted with a small smile, ¡°but I can hit a target when it matters.¡±

    Most captivating, however, was her account of discovering her affinity for magic. Her eyes seemed to brighten as she spoke, a spark of wonder mingling with a touch of reverence. ¡°The first time I felt mana flow through me,¡± she began, her voice soft, as though she were sharing a treasured secret, ¡°it was like... waking up to a world I hadn¡¯t known existed. Colours seemed brighter, sounds sharper. I could feel everything¡ªthe trees, the earth, even the air around me¡ªlike they were all alive, all connected.¡±

    Del listened intently, caught in the vividness of her description. ¡°Was it frightening?¡± he asked, trying to imagine the sensation she described.

    ¡°Terrifying,¡± she admitted with a faint laugh. ¡°But also exhilarating. There¡¯s a rawness to it, like standing at the edge of a cliff and feeling the wind urging you to jump.¡± She paused, her gaze distant as though recalling a memory. ¡°My mentor, Aldara, told me that mana isn¡¯t something you control, not really. You guide it, coax it, like trying to redirect a river without damming it.¡±

    She shifted her weight slightly, avoiding a loose rock almost subconsciously. ¡°I remember the first real lesson she gave me. We were in a grove deep within the Hometree¡¯s roots, where the magic of the forest was strongest. Aldara placed a single leaf in my hands and told me to make it move without touching it.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± Del asked, captivated by the story.

    ¡°I failed,¡± she said with a self-deprecating chuckle. ¡°Over and over again. I stared at that stupid leaf until my eyes ached. I tried everything¡ªconcentration, frustration, even shouting at it. Nothing worked. Aldara just sat there watching, her face unreadable. It wasn¡¯t until I stopped trying to force it¡ªwhen I finally just... felt the mana¡ªthat the leaf stirred.¡±

    She gestured with her hand, as if the memory of the motion lingered in her muscles. ¡°It wasn¡¯t much. Just a tiny flutter, like a breeze had passed through. But Aldara smiled for the first time that day, and I knew I¡¯d done it.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a moment you don¡¯t forget,¡± Del said, picturing the scene as she described it.

    Her smile softened. ¡°I don¡¯t think I could if I tried. From that day on, everything changed. Magic became a part of me, not something separate or mysterious. It was as natural as breathing.¡± She tilted her head, her gaze meeting his. ¡°It¡¯s strange, though. For all the potential magic can give, it also demands respect. Aldara always warned me about losing myself in it, about forgetting the balance. ¡®The mana doesn¡¯t care about you,¡¯ she¡¯d say. ¡®It flows with or without your will.¡¯¡±

    The weight of her mentor¡¯s words lingered in the air, and Del found himself wondering what it would feel like to tap into something so immense and unyielding. ¡®Could I learn to do the same?¡¯ he thought, the idea filling him with both curiosity and doubt.

    Elara broke the silence with a rueful laugh. ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to ramble.¡±

    ¡°Not at all,¡± Del said, shaking his head. ¡°It¡¯s fascinating. I can¡¯t imagine having that kind of connection to something so... intangible.¡±

    She shrugged, her expression turning thoughtful. ¡°It¡¯s not so different from archery, really. Both require focus and trust¡ªtrust in yourself, trust in the flow. One just happens to have a bit more... spark.¡±

    The subject held Del spellbound, and he couldn¡¯t stop his thoughts from drifting. ¡®Who knows what may or may not be possible, Del,¡¯ he wondered, his mind lingering on the idea.

    Before he could ask more, Misty emerged from the undergrowth ahead, her tail swishing purposefully. Del felt her presence brush against his mind, a flicker of awareness rather than words. The message was clear¡ªthere were people ahead. Not green. Not elf. Other.

    He reached out to touch Elara¡¯s arm, motioning for silence as he crouched low. She mirrored his movement, her expression sharp and alert. Together, they moved as silently as possible, following Misty¡¯s lead as she guided them forward. The underbrush thickened, twigs and dry leaves threatening to betray their every step, but they pressed on, every sound deliberate and controlled.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    After about a hundred metres, the voices reached them¡ªlow and gruff, their words muffled by the gentle rustle of leaves and the constant babble of the river. Del caught fragments of tone¡ªanger and tension¡ªthough the words were indistinct.

    ¡®Watch, hide, be ready,¡¯ he sent the thought to Misty, and she vanished like a shadow, melting into the undergrowth. He turned to Elara, leaning in close to whisper.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go ahead. Stay hidden and keep the bow ready in case things go sideways.¡±

    She nodded, her lips pressed into a tight line, and shifted into position behind the cover of a broad tree trunk. With that, Del stood and made his approach.

    He didn¡¯t try to mask his presence entirely, allowing the occasional twig to snap or stone to crunch beneath his boots¡ªenough to signal his approach without alarming. As he stepped into a small clearing, two men came into view, their backs turned to him. They were engrossed in a heated argument, gesturing wildly over a body sprawled at their feet.

    ¡°Hey there,¡± Del called out, keeping his voice steady and friendly despite the tight coil of tension in his chest. His instincts screamed at him to tread carefully; the corpse was a warning that this encounter could turn deadly.

    ¡®Stay sharp, Del. Find out what¡¯s going on before jumping to conclusions,¡¯ he reminded himself.

    The men whirled to face him, their expressions a mixture of shock and irritation. It was clear they hadn¡¯t heard his approach, too consumed by their dispute to notice the world around them.

    The men were tall¡ªone perhaps six foot, the other taller, his broad shoulders giving him a menacing presence. Their weather-worn faces told stories of long, hard lives. Ripped clothing and dented armour hinted at rough encounters, and their grim expressions suggested they were far from strangers to violence. Despite their ragged appearance, there was a sharpness in their eyes, an alertness that spoke of experience. Del¡¯s own dishevelled state likely matched theirs, but it was the weapons that caught his attention. The larger man carried a pair of chipped swords at his belt, while the smaller one wore a bandolier of throwing knives crisscrossed over his chest like a badge of honour.

    With a thought, Del called up the system to identify them.

    ¡®Identify.¡¯

    Human Rogue

    Level: 2

    Scout and ambush hunter

    Strengths: Stealth

    Weaknesses: Unknown

    Attacks: Knife

    Skill: Unknown

    Lore: Rogues use stealth to sneak up on and gain an advantage in attacking an enemy. They are also experts at trap detection along with breaking and entering.

    Human Brigand

    Level: 2

    Brawler, fighter

    Strengths: Strength, stamina

    Weaknesses: Unknown

    Attacks: Scimitar, knife

    Skill: Unknown

    Lore: Brigands tend to gather in small to medium groups, living by ambushing and robbing unwary travellers.

    The information blinked away as quickly as it appeared, and Del gripped his weapons tighter. Whatever hopes he¡¯d had for a peaceful conversation evaporated when their hands went to their weapons. Without hesitation, the brigand charged forward, his scimitar gleaming in the dappled sunlight. The rogue followed a step behind but stumbled suddenly, a vine snapping taut around his boot. He fell heavily, cursing as he clawed at the ground to free himself.

    ¡®Good girl,¡¯ Del thought, silently praising Elara¡¯s quick work.

    The brigand closed the distance fast, his blade already swinging for Del. He drew his sword to meet the strike, the harsh clang of metal reverberating up his arm. The shock of the impact nearly jarred the blade from his grip, but he held firm. The man was strong¡ªtoo strong for Del to match blow for blow.

    They traded strikes in a deadly dance, Del¡¯s knife darting toward the brigand¡¯s ribs only to be deflected by the worn bracer on his forearm. The scimitar swung wide, slicing the air near Del¡¯s face as he ducked low and lunged for the man¡¯s unguarded side. The brigand twisted at the last moment, Del¡¯s blade skittering off the leather under-armour hidden beneath his shirt.

    From the corner of his eye, Del caught movement. The rogue had freed himself and was scrambling to his feet, only to stagger as an arrow struck him square in the shoulder. He let out a strangled cry, reaching for the shaft, but another arrow zipped through the air, embedding itself in his thigh. His knees buckled, and he fell again, writhing on the forest floor. As he tried to stand, a final shaft buried itself into his chest and he rose no more.

    The brigand roared, his anger seemingly fuelled by his companion¡¯s plight. He pressed his attack, wielding his scimitar with brutal efficiency. Del dodged and parried, his heart pounding as he struggled to keep up. Sweat dripped down his temple, stinging his eyes, and his breathing grew ragged with the effort. The brigand drew a curved knife with his off hand, the glint of its serrated edge sending a chill down Del¡¯s spine.

    The forest around them seemed to blur, the sounds of birds and the river fading beneath the clash of steel and the laboured rhythm of Del¡¯s breath. The brigand lunged suddenly, his blades flashing in a deadly arc. Del stepped back, narrowly avoiding the scimitar, but the knife found its mark, slicing a shallow gash along his flank. Pain flared, sharp and hot, as the coppery scent of blood filled the air.

    Stumbling, Del pressed his free hand against the wound as he circled warily. The brigand grinned, sensing an advantage, and advanced with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

    Del¡¯s heel caught on a root, and he realised too late that he¡¯d been backing toward a tree¡ªa plan he had hoped to control, now a trap of his own making. The brigand raised his scimitar for a killing blow, his lips curling into a snarl. Before he could strike, a blur of ginger fur launched from the branches above.

    Misty landed on the man¡¯s neck with the ferocity of a storm, claws digging into his flesh as her teeth found purchase on his ear. The brigand bellowed in pain, dropping his knife to grab at the screeching, biting ball of fury. Del didn¡¯t hesitate. While the brigand was distracted, he lunged forward, driving his sword toward the man¡¯s chest. The blade struck something hard beneath the shirt¡ªa hidden metal plate¡ªbut still hit hard enough to make the brigand stagger back, his roar of pain echoing through the trees.

    Misty was thrown off with a violent shake, landing nimbly a few feet away. She crouched low, her tail lashing as she prepared for another attack. The brigand regained his footing, his scimitar raised high as he advanced on Del again, his face twisted in rage.

    Del lifted his knife to block the next strike, but the force of it sent the blade flying from his hand. Now down to just his sword, he braced himself as the brigand came at him with renewed fury. Misty darted in again, this time leaping across the man¡¯s shoulder and tearing a chunk of his ear clean off before vaulting to safety. Blood spattered the ground, and the brigand howled, clutching at the ragged wound.

    An arrow struck him in the arm, then another in his chest. He staggered, his movements slowing as the life drained from him. Del seized the moment, stepping in to slash a deep line across his exposed arm. The scimitar clattered to the ground, and the brigand sank to his knees, a final arrow sprouting from his throat with a sickening thunk.

    The brigand¡¯s eyes widened in shock, the fight leaving him as he toppled forward and lay still.

    [You have killed Human Brigand. Experience gained.]

    [You have killed Human Rogue. Experience gained.]

 Chapter 20 â€“ A small chunk of ear

    Del dropped to the ground, his legs giving out beneath him as the adrenaline of the fight ebbed away, leaving exhaustion in its wake. His breathing was ragged, each inhale sharp against the ache in his chest. His sword rested at his side, its edge smeared with dark, drying blood. The metallic tang of it still lingered in the air, mixing with the loamy scent of disturbed earth.

    Misty padded over, her tail swishing idly as though nothing unusual had happened. Her golden fur was streaked with dirt and flecks of blood, and her ears twitched with every faint rustle from the forest around them. She nuzzled Del¡¯s hand, her purring soft and insistent, as if reminding him she was still there.

    ¡°Good girl,¡± he murmured, reaching out to scratch behind her ears. His voice was hoarse, the words coming out more as a croak than anything else.

    Misty coughed suddenly, her small body shuddering with the effort. Del frowned, his hand stilling as she hacked a few more times. With a wet splat, a chunk of flesh¡ªunmistakably part of the brigand¡¯s ear¡ªlanded at her feet. Misty sniffed it delicately, her nose crinkling, before swatting it aside with a casual flick of her paw. She began grooming herself with the air of a cat entirely unbothered by the day¡¯s events.

    Del huffed out a tired laugh, shaking his head. ¡°You really don¡¯t care, do you?¡± he muttered, watching as she licked her paws clean with meticulous precision.

    The underbrush to his right rustled, and his hand instinctively moved toward his sword before he recognised Elara emerging. Her bow was slung over her shoulder, though her hand lingered near it as her eyes darted between the bodies and Del.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± she asked, her voice tight with concern. She crouched beside him, her gaze raking over his blood-streaked arms and tattered clothes.

    Del regarded himself briefly, noting the various cuts and bruises. None were deep, but they throbbed with a persistent, stinging ache. ¡°I¡¯ll live,¡± he said with a faint shrug. ¡°Nothing too bad. Just stings like hell.¡±

    Elara didn¡¯t look convinced, her brow furrowed. ¡°That was... intense,¡± she said softly, her eyes flicking toward the nearest body. ¡°Do you think they were after something specific?¡±

    ¡°Doubt it,¡± Del replied, exhaling heavily. ¡°More likely just a couple of cut-throats looking for easy prey. That seems to be the theme around here.¡± He pointed toward the rogue¡¯s crumpled form, his body sprouting arrows like a macabre pincushion. ¡°From the argument when I arrived it looks like they couldn¡¯t agree on how to divide up the loot from their last victim.¡±

    Elara grimaced but didn¡¯t look away. ¡°Should we check them? See if there¡¯s anything useful?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Del said, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. ¡°Might as well. Never know what we¡¯ll find. If nothing else, at least we¡¯ll know what kind of scum we were dealing with.¡±

    Misty brushed against his leg, her tail curling around his calf. Del glanced down at her, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°You certainly seem pleased with yourself.¡± The cat responded with a slow blink, her expression, as always, maddeningly unreadable.

    With a small groan, Del rummaged through his pack, pulling out the small pot of feldspar paste he¡¯d taken from the goblin. He unscrewed the lid, the strong herbal smell of the ointment making his nose wrinkle, and dabbed it onto the worst of his cuts. The paste burned as it touched his skin, but the cooling relief that followed was worth the discomfort.

    Elara watched him in silence for a moment before speaking. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had to deal with most of that,¡± she said quietly. ¡°You make it look easy, but it¡¯s... it¡¯s not, is it?¡±

    Del glanced at her, a wry smile crossing his face. ¡°Not easy, no,¡± he admitted. ¡°But necessary. You quickly learn to do what you have to.¡± He chuckled. "You know, I brought a bow with me because I wanted to avoid messy hand to hand fighting. But, I can''t shoot for shit and I end up having to deal with things face to face anyway."

    The weight of his words hung in the air, unspoken thoughts passing between them. After a beat, he pushed himself to his feet, rolling his shoulders to shake off the stiffness. ¡°Alright,¡± he said, gesturing toward the brigand¡¯s body. ¡°Let¡¯s see what we¡¯ve got.¡±

    The man¡¯s armour was a patchwork of mismatched pieces, each one battered and poorly maintained. Del and Elara worked quickly, stripping the brigand of anything useful. A vambrace on his left arm and a pauldron on his right shoulder were salvageable, though neither was in great condition. Beneath his shirt, they found a tattered leather under-armour with some roughly stitched on metal plates. It was this that had likely saved him from an earlier thrust. The condition was so rough that it wasn¡¯t worth keeping.

    On his hand, the brigand wore a gaudy ring, its once-bright metal dulled with grime. Del slipped it off and tossed it into their growing pile of loot. The man¡¯s pouch held a handful of coins and a few trinkets¡ªa tarnished brooch, a chipped bracelet. Nothing remarkable, but better than nothing.

    Del retrieved the knife he¡¯d lost in the fight, wiping the blade clean on the brigand¡¯s shirt before tucking it back into its sheath. He straightened, stretching his back with a wince. ¡°One down,¡± he said. ¡°On to the next.¡± As he moves across, Elara quickly cut strips of cloth from the brigand''s shirt and made wraps to protect her feet from the forest floor litter.

    The rogue¡¯s body was less weathered, his clothing better cared for despite the bloodstains now ruining it. Del crouched beside him, inspecting the bandolier strapped across his chest. The throwing knives it held were finely crafted, their edges sharp and handles perfectly balanced.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°Looks like this guy took better care of his gear,¡± Del muttered, unclipping the bandolier and setting it aside.

    Elara knelt next to him, her expression softening as she reached for the rogue¡¯s pack. ¡°He even carried cleaning supplies,¡± she said, pulling out a small bundle of cloths and a whetstone.

    ¡°Practical,¡± Del remarked. ¡°Too bad he couldn¡¯t use them to save his own skin.¡±

    In addition to the knives, they found a sleek stiletto hidden in a wrist holster. Del tested its weight, nodding appreciatively before adding it to their haul. The rogue¡¯s pouch held more coins than the brigand¡¯s, as well as a couple of small gems.

    Del stood, brushing dirt from his knees as he surveyed the pile of loot. ¡°Not bad for a day¡¯s work,¡± he said. ¡°Still doesn¡¯t explain why they were arguing, though.¡±

    Elara looked toward the third body¡ªtheir victim. ¡°Maybe he has the answer.¡±

    The man on the ground lay sprawled on his side, his lifeless eyes staring at nothing. The stiletto wound in his back told a clear story¡ªa single, deep puncture that had ended his life instantly. Del crouched beside him, inspecting the area around the wound. The precision was chilling; the rogue obviously knew exactly where to strike. The man¡¯s clothes, though dirtied from the forest floor, were of decent quality. The stitching along the seams spoke of a modest life, likely that of a farmer or labourer. His boots, worn but sturdy, had seen many miles.

    Del tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied the man¡¯s face. ¡°Wonder if he lived nearby,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°Or if we¡¯re closer to civilisation than we thought.¡±

    Elara had been silent behind him, retrieving her arrows with mechanical precision. When he turned to her, she was yanking the one free from the rogue¡¯s chest, her knuckles white as she gripped the shaft. He managed a faint smile, attempting to ease the weight in the air. ¡°Now this,¡± he said lightly, motioning to her bow, ¡°is why you have that thing.¡±

    She looked up, her expression faltering. A single tear traced a glistening path down her cheek, catching the light as it fell. ¡°I¡¯ve never killed anyone before,¡± she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The words carried a tremor that tugged at something deep within him. ¡°But I had to, or you would be dead.¡±

    Her voice broke on the last word, and the arrow slipped from her fingers, landing softly on the forest floor. She took a step toward him, her arms trembling, before collapsing into his embrace. Her head buried itself against his shoulder, and her body shook with muffled sobs. Del wrapped his arms around her, his hold firm but gentle. He could feel the weight of her grief, her shock, and her guilt as though it were his own.

    He thought back to his own first kill, the way it had hollowed him out, left him feeling raw and exposed. He had been a different person then, someone less accustomed to this seeming constant fight for survival. Now, though, even though it was all so recent... now it felt uncomfortably like it was becoming part of the routine. ¡®Am I getting inured to this?¡¯ he wondered, the thought a bitter pill he couldn¡¯t swallow.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright, lass,¡± he murmured, stroking her back in slow, calming circles. His voice was low, steady, as if he could will her tears to subside through sheer force of will. ¡°You¡¯ll be okay.¡±

    At their feet, Misty wove between their legs, her fur brushing against them as if to lend her own brand of comfort. Her purring was loud, insistent, a reminder that not everything in the world was broken and brutal.

    Elara¡¯s sobs began to quiet, her breathing evening out into deep, shuddering gulps of air. She pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face lifting to meet his gaze. Her eyes were red, her lashes clumped together with moisture. ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered, her voice raw. She wiped at her cheeks with her sleeve, her movements clumsy. ¡°Can we just finish here and get out of this place, please?¡±

    Her tone was almost pleading, and Del nodded. ¡°Of course.¡± He gestured toward a patch of grass beneath a nearby tree. ¡°Go sit with Misty for a bit. I¡¯ll handle the rest.¡±

    Elara hesitated for a moment, then did as he suggested, settling onto the ground as Misty immediately curled into her lap. The cat¡¯s presence seemed to steady her, her hands moving almost automatically to stroke the soft fur. Del watched for a moment before turning his attention back to the third body.

    The dead man wore a small pendant around his neck, its design intricate and unusual. Del carefully removed it, holding it up to the light. The etching on the surface looked almost ceremonial, though its meaning was a mystery. He slipped it into his pouch, filing it away for later. ¡®Maybe someone will recognise it,¡¯ he thought. ¡®At least I can tell them what happened.¡¯

    The man¡¯s pack held only a few meagre items¡ªa piece of stale bread, some dried meat, and a tarnished coin purse containing a handful of coppers. It wasn¡¯t much, but it spoke of a simple life. The real mystery was why he¡¯d been targeted. Del glanced at the rogue¡¯s body, his mind turning over the possibilities. ¡°Wrong place, wrong time,¡± he muttered. ¡°Or maybe they thought he had more than he did.¡±

    After finishing his search, Del stood and stretched, his back protesting the movement. ¡°Alright,¡± he called to Elara. ¡°Let¡¯s move before this place gets even worse.¡± He offered her a hand, pulling her to her feet. Together, they set off downstream, Misty trotting ahead as usual.

    The afternoon passed in a haze of quiet conversation and long stretches of silence. Elara eventually broke the stillness, her voice hesitant. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said. ¡°For falling apart back there.¡±

    Del shook his head, his tone gentle. ¡°Don¡¯t apologise. It¡¯s your first time. It¡¯s normal.¡± He glanced at her, his expression softening. ¡°Trust me, I was worse.¡±

    Her lips curved into a faint smile, though her eyes still carried the weight of the day. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said simply.

    Misty¡¯s presence in his mind flickered, a familiar sensation that brought him back to the moment. ¡®Cave,¡¯ the image came, clear and direct. Del nodded to Elara, and they followed Misty¡¯s lead, veering slightly from the river¡¯s path. They reached a crumbling hill with a small hollow carved into its base. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was enough.

    Del set to work immediately, gathering what they¡¯d need to make camp. Elara helped where she could, her movements slow and deliberate. They worked in near silence, the only sounds the rustling of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig beneath their feet. By the time the fire was crackling, the sun had dipped below the treetops, casting the forest in shades of deep blue and grey.

    Dinner was simple¡ªwhat remained of their pork, paired with the bread taken from the dead man¡¯s pack. Del noticed Elara picking at her food, her appetite clearly diminished. He didn¡¯t press her, knowing the day had been more than enough for her to process. Instead, he kept the conversation light, studiously avoiding the subject of the fight.

    As the fire burned low, Elara finally excused herself, curling up at the back of the hollow with Misty nestled beside her. Del waited a while before checking on her, his footsteps quiet as he approached. Her breathing was soft and steady, but tears still glistened on her cheeks, slipping from beneath her closed eyelids. He watched her for a moment, a pang of sympathy tugging at his chest.

    With a sigh, he turned back to the fire, staring into the dying embers as the weight of the day settled heavily on his shoulders.

 Chapter 21 â€“ Focus on the water

    The next morning, Del woke early, stirred by the mingling sounds of birdsong and the soft, rhythmic purring of Misty beside him. The cat was curled up near the still-warm embers of their fire, her little body rising and falling with each snore. The campsite, however, lacked one key detail¡ªElara.

    Sitting up, Del scanned the hollow, noting their gear mostly remained in place. The bow was gone but the quiver rested against the base of a tree. That reassured him somewhat. She probably hadn¡¯t run off entirely, though a flicker of unease lingered.

    ¡®If she¡¯s left, she¡¯s her own person,¡¯ he reasoned, rubbing his eyes. ¡®As long as she¡¯s safe, that¡¯s all that matters.¡¯ Even as he thought it, his stomach tightened. She¡¯d seen so much in so little time. Maybe too much.

    He stoked the smouldering coals from last night, feeding them twigs and a few small branches. Soon, faint flames licked the wood, crackling softly as he set about preparing breakfast. Above, a blanket of grey clouds crept across the sky, dulling the light and thickening the air with the earthy tang of last night''s rain. A steady breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it the scent of damp soil.

    With a flat cooking stone placed carefully next to the fire, Del laid strips of pork to sizzle and began taking stock of their supplies. It wasn¡¯t much. The food would last another day, maybe two if Elara had indeed left. His gaze shifted to the hollow, where scattered remnants of their collected gear lay¡ªa mismatched assortment of scavenged weapons, the bandit¡¯s throwing knives, and his own sword.

    ¡®We¡¯re in desperate need of proper supplies,¡¯ Del admitted to himself with a sigh.

    ¡®Well, perhaps you should have demanded better shit to start with then numbnuts,¡¯ Dels more irritable side had been quiet too long and seemed all too happy to make a comeback in full sarcasm mode now.

    The thought of wandering through the wilderness understocked gnawed at the back of his mind. He was going to have to address the matter sooner rather than later.

    He reached for the pouch tied at his belt, the contents clinking faintly as he untied it. Elara¡¯s earlier explanation of the currency system came to mind as he counted: fifty-nine coppers, six tins, and a small collection of rings they¡¯d taken from the brigands. His fingers brushed against the cloth-wrapped ring Elara had warned him about, the one she believed held magical properties.

    ¡®Cursed items,¡¯ Del thought with a grimace. The idea of inadvertently shackling himself to some malevolent force made his skin crawl. The ring would stay wrapped and untouched until they could get it properly identified.

    ¡®We,¡¯ he thought again, pausing. His lips pressed into a thin line. ¡®There you go, making assumptions, Del. Yesterday might¡¯ve been too much for her. She¡¯s probably halfway back to her home by now.¡¯ Irritated, he kicked a small stone near the fire, sending it clattering against a tree.

    The sound startled Misty awake. She stretched luxuriously, her golden fur catching the early morning light, before blinking at him with curious eyes. She seemed to sense his unease, sending a warm pulse of reassurance through their link.

    ¡®Ah, for the wisdom of a cat,¡¯ Del mused with a faint smile. Her unshakable calm was both infuriating and oddly comforting.

    ¡®Any wisdom would be better than that idiocy you claim is common sense,¡¯ he snipped back.

    Draining the last of his waterskin, Del rose, the faint creak of stiff joints reminding him of how little rest he¡¯d truly had. The river wasn¡¯t far¡ªjust a short walk through the trees¡ªbut the effort of moving seemed heavier than usual. As he made his way, the soft burble of water grew clearer, mingling with the faint calls of birds flitting above the canopy. The air was cool and damp, carrying the subtle scent of wet stone and moss, a faint hint of rain still lingering from the night before.

    When the river came into view, he paused. A small pile of fish lay near the bank, neatly arranged alongside Elara¡¯s bow and, to his mild surprise, the carefully folded linen shirt he¡¯d given her. His gaze flicked toward the water, where pale hair fanned out like golden threads across the surface. Elara floated lazily, her eyes closed, her body following the gentle pull of the current.

    As if sensing his presence, she turned her head and opened her eyes, spotting him immediately. Her face lit up with a bright grin as she bobbed upright and waved. Without hesitation, she waded toward the bank, water streaming from her limbs, her movements effortless and unhurried.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t sleep,¡± she said lightly, brushing droplets of water from her arms. She seemed utterly at ease, her bare skin catching the soft light filtering through the trees.

    Del quickly crouched by the river, his eyes fixed firmly on the waterskin he was refilling. His mind raced, torn between propriety and the practical reality of their situation. ¡°No problem,¡± he replied gruffly, aiming for nonchalance and falling just short. ¡°We all have nights like that.¡±

    Elara reached for the shirt as he spoke, slipping it over her head in a single fluid motion. The fabric, still slightly damp from the previous day, clung to her form in a way that made Del¡¯s jaw tighten involuntarily. The makeshift dress¡ªheld together with a length of rope she¡¯d tied at her waist¡ªwas far from modest, though it was better than nothing.

    ¡®Focus on the water, Del,¡¯ he chided himself, clenching his jaw as he tightened the waterskin¡¯s cap. ¡®If she doesn¡¯t care, why should I?¡¯ He couldn¡¯t quite shake the thought, though. The ease with which she moved, the complete lack of self-consciousness¡ªit was foreign to him, another reminder of how different their worlds were.

    ¡®You shouldn¡¯t stare, you know,¡¯ came his inner voice, sharp and mocking. ¡®Or do you want her to think you¡¯re some kind of letch?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m not staring,¡¯ he snapped back internally. ¡®Just... noticing.¡¯

    ¡®Noticing? Sure, mate, let¡¯s go with that,¡¯ the voice replied, dripping with sarcasm.

    Elara didn¡¯t seem to notice his inner conflict. Instead, she lifted the pile of fish with a triumphant smile. ¡°I caught us breakfast,¡± she announced cheerfully. ¡°They¡¯re slow swimmers, so it wasn¡¯t too hard to shoot them. I figured Misty might appreciate something fresh.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    Del stood, brushing damp soil from his hands before taking the fish from her. ¡°This¡¯ll be a good change in diet,¡± he agreed, examining the catch. ¡°And Misty will definitely approve. But you¡¯re in luck¡ªwe¡¯ve still got bush bacon sizzling back at camp.¡±

    Elara¡¯s eyes lit up at the mention of food, though she made no comment, instead busying herself with securing her bow and tying strips of scavenged cloth into foot wrapping. Del couldn¡¯t help but notice how quickly she moved, her earlier carefree manner giving way to an almost mechanical efficiency. He studied her for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly.

    ¡°You¡¯re in a good mood,¡± he ventured, his tone light but probing.

    She paused, glancing up at him briefly before tying off the last of her makeshift shoes. ¡°It¡¯s just nice to be useful,¡± she said simply, though her voice held a faint undercurrent of something heavier.

    Del nodded, deciding not to press. Instead, he gestured toward her feet. ¡°We need to find some way to get you proper boots.¡± Taking a step up the path to the camp he added. ¡°Come on. Breakfast is waiting, and I¡¯m sure Misty¡¯s already plotting how to steal our share.¡±

    Elara chuckled softly as they began walking, the tension in her posture easing just a little. Del followed close behind, his thoughts a mix of concern and curiosity. Something was still weighing on her¡ªhe was sure of it. But for now, he let it lie, focusing instead on the smell of cooking pork drifting through the trees.

    ¡°I¡¯d say that means it¡¯s ready,¡± she said sniffing the air, her mood noticeably brighter.

    Del chuckled. ¡®Maybe things aren¡¯t as bad as I thought,¡¯ he mused, glancing at her. She seemed lighter somehow, though he suspected the strain of the previous day still lingered beneath her cheery fa?ade.

    Back at the camp, Misty greeted them with an inquisitive meow, her nose twitching as she sniffed the air. When Elara offered her a piece of fish, the cat promptly purred her approval, winding around the elf¡¯s legs in gratitude. Del watched the exchange, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

    ¡®Sometimes, it¡¯s the little things,¡¯ he thought, settling by the fire to divide up breakfast.

    The slabs of pork sizzled on the cooking rock, their edges crisping to a perfect golden brown. Fat dripped into the edge of the fire, sending up little bursts of flame and a mouthwatering aroma that made Del¡¯s stomach growl in anticipation. The few herbs they¡¯d managed to scavenge added a subtle depth to the flavour, but as he chewed the first bite, he couldn¡¯t help but feel something was missing.

    ¡®Carbs. Gods, what I wouldn¡¯t give for a proper loaf of bread or a plate of potatoes,¡¯ Del thought wistfully, glancing at the sorry lump of bread he¡¯d salvaged from the bandit¡¯s pack. Its surface was speckled with mould, the green patches glaring up at him as a reminder of how far he¡¯d fallen from his old life. He carefully sliced away the offending parts and held the rest over the coals, the heat hardening it into something vaguely toast-like.

    Misty, meanwhile, was crouched a few feet away with her own prize¡ªa fish she was savaging with great enthusiasm. The cat¡¯s sharp teeth tore through the flesh, her fur streaked with tiny flecks of juice. Del shook his head, amused by her single-minded focus.

    ¡°Well, at least someone¡¯s happy,¡± he muttered, earning a flick of her tail in reply.

    Beside him, Elara took a bite of her pork, chewing thoughtfully before nodding in satisfaction. ¡°This is good,¡± she said, her voice muffled around the food. ¡°Better than yesterday¡¯s, for sure.¡±

    Del smirked. ¡°High praise. I¡¯ll take it.¡±

    They ate in companionable quiet for a while, the sounds of the forest providing a soothing backdrop. Birds chirped in the canopy above, their songs mingling with the rustle of leaves and the soft crackle of the fire. When the food was mostly gone, Del leaned back, wiping his hands on his trousers.

    ¡°We need a plan for today,¡± he said, breaking the silence. ¡°Supplies are running low, and I don¡¯t fancy another night wondering if we¡¯ll stumble across something edible.¡±

    Elara nodded, brushing crumbs from her lap. ¡°Keep following the river?¡±

    ¡°Seems like our best bet,¡± Del agreed. ¡°It has to lead somewhere eventually. A settlement, maybe. And with any luck, one that¡¯s not overrun with goblins or brigands.¡±

    Her lips twitched at that, though the humour didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. The events of the last few days still weighed heavily on her, and Del didn¡¯t blame her.

    By the time they finished packing up, the earlier clouds had dispersed and the sun had climbed higher, its rays filtering through the trees in golden shafts. The air was cool but carried a hint of warmth that promised a pleasant day ahead. Del hefted his pack, the weight of it a constant reminder of how little they had.

    ¡®We¡¯ll manage,¡¯ he told himself.

    The morning passed uneventfully, the two of them walking in steady silence along the riverbank. Misty darted ahead as usual, her lean form weaving effortlessly through the underbrush. Occasionally, she sent faint flickers of reassurance through their link¡ªa subtle reminder that she was keeping watch.

    It wasn¡¯t until the afternoon that Del caught the first hint of something unusual. He stopped mid-step, his nose wrinkling as a faint scent drifted on the breeze. It was subtle at first, barely noticeable against the natural smells of earth and water, but it grew stronger as they walked.

    ¡°Woodsmoke,¡± he said aloud, glancing at Elara.

    She sniffed the air, her brows furrowing. ¡°You¡¯re right. It¡¯s coming from down the valley.¡±

    Misty, still ahead, hadn¡¯t given any signal of danger, but Del¡¯s instincts prickled nonetheless. He motioned for Elara to halt, scanning their surroundings for any signs of movement. The forest seemed unchanged¡ªquiet, peaceful even¡ªbut the scent of smoke added an edge of unease.

    Elara, without waiting for instruction, slung her bow over her shoulder and began climbing a nearby tree. Del watched as she moved with practised ease, her slender form disappearing into the foliage.

    A few moments later, she dropped lightly back to the ground, her expression thoughtful. ¡°It¡¯s about a mile away,¡± she said, brushing a stray leaf from her hair. ¡°I saw a chimney near the river, but the trees block most of the view. Whatever it is, it¡¯s at the edge of the wood. Beyond that... not many trees, from what I could see.¡±

    Del nodded, her report stirring a mix of emotions¡ªrelief at the possibility of civilisation and unease at the potential dangers it could bring. ¡°We¡¯ll approach carefully,¡± he said, adjusting the strap of his pack. ¡°But if it¡¯s a settlement, this could be what we¡¯ve been hoping for.¡±

    Elara¡¯s lips curved into a tentative smile, though she still stood closer to him than usual, her hand brushing against his arm as they resumed walking. Del noticed the subtle shift in her demeanour¡ªthe way her shoulders seemed a little tenser, her steps a little more cautious.

    ¡®She¡¯s worried,¡¯ he thought, a pang of guilt surfacing.

    ¡®And you¡¯re not?¡¯ his alter voice chimed in. ¡®Because, clearly, everything¡¯s gone so smoothly up to now.¡¯

    Del gritted his teeth, shoving the thought aside. ¡°Stick close,¡± he said to Elara, his voice softer than usual.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t planning on wandering off,¡± she replied lightly, though the slight edge in her tone betrayed her nerves.

    They continued following the riverbank, the forest growing quieter as the afternoon deepened. Misty reappeared up ahead, her tail flicking in a lazy arc as she padded toward them. Del and Elara stopped in their tracks, waiting as the cat approached.

    Misty sat down a few feet away, her amber eyes fixed on Del as if expecting him to understand some unspoken message. A faint pulse of reassurance flickered through their link, but it was tinged with something else¡ªanticipation, maybe.

    Del crouched, meeting her gaze. ¡°You found something?¡±

    Misty tilted her head, her expression maddeningly inscrutable.

    Elara crouched beside him, her eyes darting between Del and the cat. ¡°What¡¯s she trying to tell us?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not worried, which is a good sign,¡± Del said slowly, standing. ¡°But she¡¯s definitely leading us toward something.¡±

    Elara tightened her grip on her bow, her knuckles whitening slightly. ¡°Then let¡¯s hope it¡¯s friendly.¡±

    With that, they continued down the path, a mix of hope and trepidation weighing heavily on their steps as the scent of woodsmoke grew stronger in the air.

 Chapter 22 â€“ Two mans and a barker

    When Misty appeared ahead, Del and Elara instinctively slowed, waiting for her to reach them. She trotted toward them with her usual air of quiet confidence, but her sharp gaze and twitching ears hinted at something more significant this time.

    Del crouched slightly, meeting her amber eyes as he reached for their link. ¡®What have you found?¡¯ he asked, his thoughts projecting across the bond. A vision flickered back¡ªa small building nestled at the edge of the wood, smoke curling lazily from its chimney. Alongside the image came the distinct impressions of two figures and a large, bristling form near the door. ¡®Two mans and a barker,¡¯ Misty¡¯s message conveyed, simple and clear.

    He straightened, turning to Elara. ¡°Looks like at least two people up ahead, and they¡¯ve got a dog,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Misty didn¡¯t get too close¡ªprobably because of the animal¡ªso there might be more inside the building. We¡¯ll need to be careful.¡±

    Elara¡¯s brows knit together, and she glanced toward the tree line. ¡°What do we do?¡± she asked, her voice carrying a hint of unease.

    Del rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his fingers brushing the coarse stubble that was growing increasingly out of hand momentarily distracting him. ¡®I¡¯ll need to do something about this soon,¡¯ he thought absently, though the more pressing issue kept him focused.

    ¡°We¡¯ll approach cautiously,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°Especially after the last fight we had. No telling if these people are connected to the bandits, but we can¡¯t rule it out.¡± He shrugged, his gaze returning to Elara. ¡°You need to find a city to locate a mage trainer, and I need somewhere to resupply and figure out what the hell I¡¯m doing next. This is the first sign of civilisation we¡¯ve come across, so... yeah, we go say hello.¡±

    ¡°Unless you¡¯ve got a better idea?¡± he added, quirking a brow.

    Elara hesitated before shaking her head. ¡°No, you¡¯re right. Let¡¯s just hope they¡¯re friendly.¡±

    With the decision made, they checked their weapons, ensuring everything was secure but accessible, and resumed their journey. The sound of the river guided them, mingling with the faint murmur of distant voices and the rhythmic thunk of an axe striking wood.

    As they neared the edge of the forest, the trees thinned, revealing a modest scene nestled against the backdrop of open land. A sturdy cottage sat close to the wood, its walls weathered but well-maintained. Smoke drifted from a stone chimney, and a small shed leaned against one side, surrounded by neatly stacked piles of lumber. The resinous scent of freshly cut wood mingled with the acrid smell of chimney smoke, giving the air a homely, rustic feel.

    Near the woodpile, a broad-shouldered man swung an axe with practised efficiency, splitting a log cleanly into billets. Another man knelt nearby, stripping bark from larger logs with a simple but effective tool. The steady rhythm of their work and the peaceful scene sent a ripple of cautious relief through Del.

    Then the dog noticed them.

    The large black-and-brown mastiff¡¯s head shot up, its ears pinning forward as a low, menacing growl rumbled from its throat. Before Del could react, the animal surged forward, barking ferociously, only to be brought up short as the heavy chain attached to its collar snapped taut. The beast dug its claws into the dirt, snarling and straining against its restraint, its teeth bared in an intimidating display.

    The man with the axe turned toward them, his sharp gaze narrowing as he hefted the weapon onto his shoulder. The other man paused his work, his expression wary as he reached for a nearby tool¡ªa wood scraper, but still sharp enough to do damage in a pinch.

    ¡°Newt doesn¡¯t seem to like you,¡± the axe-wielder said gruffly, his voice carrying easily across the clearing. ¡°Why don¡¯t you come on real slow, hands where I can see them, and tell me who the hell you are and why you¡¯re sneaking out of the woods?¡±

    Del raised his hands slightly, keeping his movements deliberate. ¡°Easy, now. We¡¯re not sneaking,¡± he said, his tone calm but firm. ¡°We¡¯ve been lost in the woods for a few days, following the river and hoping to find a village¡ªor something like that.¡±

    The man¡¯s eyes narrowed further, his grip on the axe tightening. ¡°That right? Funny thing, though¡ªthere¡¯s been talk of bandits roaming these parts. How do I know you¡¯re not with them?¡±

    Elara stepped forward slightly, her hands raised in a similar gesture of peace. ¡°We ran into some robbers a couple of days ago,¡± she said, her voice steady but not without a hint of tension. ¡°They attacked us. There were only two of them, and we were lucky to get away.¡±

    Del nodded in agreement, keeping his posture relaxed but ready. ¡°Like she said¡ªjust the two of us. You¡¯ve got no reason to worry.¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    The dog¡¯s growls subsided into a low rumble as it sat back on its haunches, its chain stretched taut. The woodsman studied them for a long moment, his gaze flicking to the weapons at their sides before meeting Del¡¯s eyes again.

    ¡°What happened to them, then?¡± he asked, his tone neutral but sharp. ¡°The bandits. Where are they now?¡±

    Del met his gaze squarely. ¡°Feeding the worms about a dozen miles upstream,¡± he said evenly. ¡°We stumbled on them while they were arguing over a dead man. They attacked, we defended. End of story.¡±

    The tension in the air remained palpable, but a faint shift in the woodsman¡¯s expression suggested he was at least considering their words.

    The second man called out from the cottage, his voice carrying easily across the clearing. ¡°Newt, get back here!¡±

    The mastiff¡¯s ears flattened slightly, and with a reluctant whine, the dog turned and padded back toward the porch. Once there, he was rewarded with a scrap of meat, which he snapped up eagerly before settling back into his spot. The man on the porch leaned against the doorframe, his stance casual but his eyes sharp as they flicked between Del and Elara. ¡°Bring ¡¯em up, Bran,¡± he said. ¡°Easier to talk and sort out the whats and whys where it¡¯s more comfortable.¡±

    Bran, the axe-wielder, gave a half-shrug. ¡°You heard him. Leave the weapons where they belong, and let¡¯s head up to the house.¡± His tone was firm, though not unfriendly. ¡°Fair warning, though¡ªNewt can reach anywhere in or around the place. Don¡¯t give him a reason to get up.¡±

    Del glanced at Elara, catching the faint tension in her posture. She gave him a small nod, and together they followed Bran toward the cottage, keeping their hands visible and their steps measured. The smell of chimney smoke grew stronger as they approached, mingling with the crisp aroma of freshly cut wood.

    The cottage itself was modest but sturdy, its weathered stone walls and timber beams speaking of solid craftsmanship. A small porch extended from the front, where a roughly made table and chairs sat in the dappled shade of a nearby tree. Bran gestured for them to sit, his expression neutral but watchful.

    ¡°Wait here,¡± he said, disappearing inside the cottage. Moments later, he returned with a pitcher of water and several wooden mugs, setting them down on the table with a solid thunk.

    Once everyone was settled, Del took the lead. ¡°I¡¯m Del, and this is Elara,¡± he said, his tone measured. ¡°Thanks for taking the time to talk with us.¡±

    The man on the porch nodded. ¡°I¡¯m Seth, and this is my brother, Bran. We supply wood to the local farm and village about five miles down the valley.¡±

    The conversation turned quickly to the bandits, the brothers quizzing them with sharp, probing questions. Del and Elara answered as best they could, recounting their encounter in careful detail. The tension around the table gradually eased, especially after Elara¡¯s heritage came to light.

    ¡°Elves, eh?¡± Bran remarked, his tone shifting to one of grudging respect. ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve ever seen one around here. You don¡¯t exactly blend in with the local troublemakers.¡±

    Seth nodded in agreement. ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re more likely to slit their own throats than work with someone like you.¡±

    Elara¡¯s expression softened at the implied compliment, though she said nothing.

    ¡°That dead feller you said they killed¡ªthat¡¯s the real puzzle,¡± Seth continued, leaning back in his chair. ¡°I¡¯ve not heard of anyone going missing from around here, and there aren¡¯t many ways into the high woods without passing by us.¡±

    Bran frowned, resting his elbows on the table. ¡°Anything stand out about him? Scars, tattoos¡ªsomething like that?¡±

    Del shook his head. ¡°No, not really. He was pretty beat up. Covered in dirt and blood from where they¡¯d attacked him.¡±

    Elara chimed in, her tone thoughtful. ¡°He was in rough clothing. Looked like a farmer to me, though I can¡¯t say for sure.¡±

    A thought struck Del, and he reached for his pouch. ¡°He had this on him,¡± he said, pulling out the pendant he¡¯d taken from the body. ¡°I kept it in case someone recognised it.¡±

    For the first time, Del took a proper look at the pendant. It was small, maybe an inch across, with a design of three intersecting circles etched onto the front. The back bore faint marks¡ªletters, perhaps, though they weren¡¯t in any language he recognised. He passed it to the brothers, watching as they examined it in silence.

    After a long moment, Seth handed it back. ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve seen anything like it,¡± he admitted. ¡°Might be someone in the village would know, though.¡±

    Bran stood abruptly, brushing his hands on his trousers. ¡°Food¡¯s ready,¡± he announced. ¡°Will you join us?¡±

    Del and Elara exchanged a glance, the question unspoken but clear. At her small nod, Del turned back to Bran. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, that would be much appreciated.¡±

    A few minutes later, Bran returned with a large tray, setting it down on the table with practised ease. On it were bowls filled with a thick, steaming stew, the rich aroma of meat and vegetables rising into the air. Gravy pooled around chunks of root vegetables and tender pieces of meat, and the sight of it made Del¡¯s stomach rumble loudly.

    ¡®Now this is more like it,¡¯ Del thought, a flicker of genuine relief easing the tension in his chest.

    The mastiff, Newt, lifted his head briefly to sniff the air, but after a moment, he let out a snuffling sigh and lay back down.

    The food was warm and filling, the perfect antidote to the day¡¯s weariness. Seth brought out a jug of beer, its nutty flavour strong but smooth, and Del savoured the taste as he leaned back in his chair.

    The conversation turned lighter as the evening wore on, the four of them swapping stories and jokes. For the first time in days, Del felt a semblance of normality returning. Elara even smiled¡ªa genuine, unguarded smile that seemed to light up her entire face.

    When the night grew late and the beer jug empty, Bran led them to the shed, where blankets had been laid out on the ground. The space was simple but clean, with the faint smell of wood shavings lingering in the air.

    Del sank onto the blankets with a contented sigh, his head already spinning slightly from the beer. Elara lay nearby, her breathing soft and even.

    ¡®Not a bad end to the day,¡¯ he thought, his eyes closing as sleep claimed him.

 Chapter 23 â€“ Get a grip, Del.

    Sunlight filtered through the uneven slats of the shed, casting faint stripes of gold onto the dusty floor. The cool morning air carried the heavy dampness of dew, though it was tinged with an underlying mustiness that clung to Del¡¯s throat. His neck ached fiercely, his head thick and sluggish, as though stuffed with wool. As he shifted against the rough surface behind him, his whole body protested with sharp, unwelcome twinges.

    His arms were pinned awkwardly behind him, the coarse bite of rope digging into his wrists. As he shifted to roll onto his side for relief, he froze. The movement pulled sharply at the bindings, and the full weight of the situation crashed down on him. ¡®What the hell¡­?¡¯ Panic flared, his groggy mind wrestling against the remnants of sleep as clarity returned in a single, chilling wave. He was bound, half-sitting and half-slumped against one of the shed¡¯s wooden support beams. His breathing quickened, the sensation of rough rope against raw skin fueling the rising dread clawing at his thoughts.

    His gaze darted around the dimly lit shed, taking in the dusty floor and faint beams of light seeping through the slats. A second thought hit him, cold and visceral. ¡®Where the fuck is Elara?¡¯ The question cut through the fog clouding his mind, further sharpening his awareness with brutal precision.

    He sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to think as the acrid sharpness of aging wood and damp earth filled his nose. ¡®Shit. Shit. Shit.¡¯ A stream of colourful expletives poured through his mind, the panic teetering on the edge of control.

    A familiar, tentative sensation brushed against the storm of his thoughts¡ªa faint, steady push that was both grounding and urgent. Misty. The mental nudge steadied him, giving him something to cling to. ¡®Misty?¡¯ He reached out through their bond, gripping onto the awareness like a lifeline. The sensation forced his panic into a box, slamming the lid shut. Spiralling into meltdown wouldn¡¯t help Elara. It wouldn¡¯t help him either.

    ¡®Get a grip, Del. You¡¯ve been in worse scrapes than this.¡¯ The reassurance might¡¯ve been a lie, but it was better than letting his thoughts run wild. He glanced upward, toward the faint pull of awareness. Misty was perched on one of the roof beams, her tail flicking in tight, agitated arcs. The faint light caught the rich orange of her fur, though her narrowed amber eyes betrayed no comfort.

    ¡®Hey, girl,¡¯ he sent through the link, his thoughts tinged with equal parts desperation and hope. ¡®Any idea what¡¯s going on?¡¯ The absurdity of talking to his cat didn¡¯t even register anymore; it had become second nature, no matter how bizarre it seemed.

    Her response came in a jumble of impressions rather than clear images. A large figure, blurred at the edges, moving steadily with something¡ªor someone¡ªslung over their shoulder. A dog, large and imposing, loped alongside them as they moved away from the cabin.

    ¡®Great. So, one of them¡¯s taken Elara somewhere, and the other one¡¯s still around?¡¯ Del¡¯s thoughts pressed against the bond, trying to extract more from the blurry fragments. Misty responded with a soft, affirmative mew, her ears flicking back briefly. She was worried, though she hid it better than he ever could.

    Del flexed his fingers against the ropes. The coarse fibres scraped against raw, chafed skin, but he gritted his teeth and gave an experimental tug. ¡®No use. Not yet.¡¯

    ¡°Any help would be appreciated,¡± he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. Misty watched him intently for a moment before leaping down from the beam with a soft thud. The next thing he felt was the damp scrape of her tongue and the sharp nip of her teeth as she began gnawing at the bindings.

    The pounding in his head grew harder to ignore¡ªa relentless, pulsing thrum that blurred the edges of his vision. ¡®The bastards must have drugged me.¡¯ The thought sparked white-hot anger, cutting through the fog. He prided himself on being a light sleeper; the idea that they¡¯d dragged him across the floor and tied him up without waking him was both terrifying and infuriating.

    ¡®And what the hell do they want with Elara?¡¯ The question burned at him, but he shoved it aside, knowing he had no answer. Whatever it was, it couldn¡¯t be good. The knot in his stomach tightened as he kept a steady tension on the rope, giving Misty the leverage she needed. With a sudden snap, the bonds gave way, and his arms pulled forward. Pain flared as blood rushed back into his wrists, and he hissed through clenched teeth, shaking out the numbness.

    He staggered to his feet, wobbling slightly as the world tilted unnaturally. A deep breath steadied him enough to scan the room. The shed was sparsely furnished¡ªnothing but dust, tools, and shadows filling the space. His eyes flicked to the corner where their gear had been neatly stacked the night before. Gone. Not even a scrap left.

    ¡®Drugged, robbed, and probably about to be murdered,¡¯ he thought darkly, his jaw tightening. ¡®Wonderful. What the hell is wrong with everyone in this gods-forsaken place?¡¯ He took a cautious step toward the door, listening intently. The oppressive silence was broken only by the occasional creak of wood as the shed settled. No footsteps. No voices. No sign of life beyond the faint whisper of the wind.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    His eyes landed on a length of wood leaning against the wall¡ªsolid, and roughly the size of a cricket bat. Not ideal, but better than nothing. He picked it up, testing its weight in his hand. ¡®So, Del, no sword, but at least you¡¯re not entirely defenceless.¡¯

    ¡°Misty,¡± he whispered, glancing toward her as she prowled along the edges of the room. ¡°Is there another way out of here?¡± She paused, then padded over to a narrow gap near the base of the wall. The wood there had rotted, leaving just enough space for her to slip through. The air beyond carried fresher scents¡ªhints of the forest drifting in on the breeze.

    Sunlight filtered through the uneven slats of the shed, casting faint stripes of gold onto the dusty floor. The door creaked slightly as Del pressed against it, the wood shifting just enough to reveal it was barred or locked from the outside. A grim smile tugged at his lips. ¡®Of course they locked it. Wouldn¡¯t want their captive wandering off, now, would they?¡¯ He glanced upward, scanning the sloping beams and the gaps between the planks of the roof. It wasn¡¯t much of a plan, but it was all he had.

    Across the beams, stacks of planks and assorted bits of timber created a precarious storage system. A pulley contraption hung from a heavy chain above, its rusted metal faintly glinting in the light filtering through the slats. It looked like it was used to haul heavier items to a makeshift mezzanine shelf bolted into the far wall. A ladder leaned against the structure, its rungs unevenly worn. Del approached cautiously, testing each step before committing his weight. The longer the person left behind thought he was still unconscious, the better.

    The wood creaked softly under his boots as he climbed, every sound amplified in the oppressive stillness. His movements were slow and deliberate, each pause a chance to listen for any sign of approach. By the time he reached the upper platform, his shoulders were tight with tension, his jaw clenched against the nerves prickling under his skin. The shelf was sturdier than it looked from below, piled with offcuts, rusted tools, and the remains of a broken table and chair. Among the clutter, something caught his eye¡ªa small opening in the wall, hidden from view on the ground.

    He crouched, narrowing his eyes. The crawlspace was barely large enough for someone his size, but it seemed to lead to the attic of the adjoining house. His pulse quickened. If there was a hatch or even a staircase on the other side, he might have a way to slip past whoever was guarding the place.

    ¡®Misty, get up here,¡¯ he sent through the link, his thoughts sharp with urgency. The faint hum of her acknowledgment came almost instantly, and moments later, she was beside him. Her sleek form blended easily with the shadows as she approached the opening, her tail flicking in silent focus. Del gestured towards the crawlspace, and without hesitation, she slipped inside. Her movements were soundless and fluid, like water slipping through cracks. He could feel her curiosity through the bond, tinged with caution as she explored.

    As Del waited, he rubbed his sore wrists, wincing at the deep, angry grooves left by the ropes. The skin was raw and tender, a pulsing ache throbbing with each heartbeat as the blood coursed through the formerly restricted vessels. His thoughts drifted briefly, skimming over the last few hours. The fury bubbling beneath the surface threatened to spill over, but he pushed it down, forcing himself to focus.

    ¡®Tied up like some bloody animal,¡¯ he thought bitterly. ¡®Drugged, robbed, and for what? Whatever they¡¯re playing at, it¡¯s not going to end well for them.¡¯ His fingers curled into fists, nails biting into his palms as he fought to steady his thoughts.

    The faintest sound shattered his concentration¡ªa quiet thunk from below. His head snapped toward the ladder, every nerve in his body tightening like a drawn bowstring. The bar across the door had been removed.

    ¡®Oh, shit.¡¯ Instinctively, Del hunkered down, gripping the bat in both hands as his eyes locked on the shed¡¯s entrance. The door creaked open, spilling harsh daylight into the dim interior, and a hulking figure stepped inside.

    Bran.

    The glint of metal caught Del¡¯s eye¡ªa knife. His knife.

    ¡°What the hell¡¯s¡­?¡± Bran muttered, his voice low and rumbling as his gaze swept over the shed. When his eyes landed on the empty post and discarded ropes, his brow furrowed, confusion flickering into anger. ¡°Where the heck did you¡ª¡±

    Del didn¡¯t wait for him to finish. He leapt from the mezzanine, the makeshift club already swinging as he dropped. The crack as it met the back of Bran¡¯s head echoed through the shed, the impact reverberating painfully up his arms. Bran crumpled without a sound, collapsing in a heap at Del¡¯s feet.

    For a moment, Del stood there, chest heaving, the club still raised as though expecting Bran to rise. The tension drained slowly, replaced by a shaky wave of relief. ¡®Damn, that went better than expected,¡¯ he thought, lowering the weapon and exhaling deeply.

    He glanced up to see Misty perched on the edge of the mezzanine, her amber eyes gleaming with silent approval. ¡°Fancy having a nose outside? See if it¡¯s clear?¡± he whispered. She tilted her head, then hopped down gracefully, landing beside Bran¡¯s motionless body. Her tail flicked as she sniffed at him, then, seemingly satisfied, sauntered toward the open door.

    Del knelt beside Bran, inspecting him quickly. His chest rose and fell unevenly, each breath a wet, rasping gurgle. Blood trickled from his ears and nose, pooling beneath his head where the club had struck. A deep dent near his ear told Del just how close Bran was to death¡¯s door.

    ¡®Not waking up anytime soon,¡¯ Del thought grimly as he reclaimed his knife from Bran¡¯s slack grip. A quick search of the man¡¯s pockets produced a pouch of coins and an iron key, but nothing else of value. As Del finished, Bran shifted slightly, his head rolling to one side. His breathing became more laboured, the bubbling sound intensifying.

    For a brief moment, Del hesitated. The memory of a first-aid course flickered in his mind¡ªa lesson on how to position someone to keep their airway clear. The kind of thing he¡¯d have done without thinking in another life.

    He straightened, the knife in his hand feeling heavier than it should. ¡°Fuck him,¡± he muttered, the words cold and final. Whatever these bastards had planned, it wasn¡¯t good. If Bran choked on his own blood and vomit, it was no less than he deserved.

    A faint nudge through the link pulled Del back to the present. Misty¡¯s impatience was clear¡ªoutside was quiet, safe for now. Del spared Bran one last glance before stepping over him and heading for the door, the weight of the knife reassuring in his grip.

 Chapter 24 â€“ You look a mess

    The cat sat on the porch by the open front door, casually grooming herself with the air of serene indifference that only cats could manage. Her tail flicked lazily as she licked a paw, completely unconcerned with the chaos of recent events.

    Del watched her for a moment, his shoulders easing slightly. ¡®Best decision I ever made,¡¯ he thought, his lips curling into an ironic smile. ¡®Insisting you came along.¡¯ The thought lingered, heavy with gratitude. ¡®Del, it¡¯s as if you¡¯d known, you¡¯d be dead if it wasn¡¯t for that ginger furball.¡¯ He chuckled under his breath. ¡®Many times over in just a few days.¡¯

    The tension in his chest loosened further as he sat down beside her. For a few minutes, he indulged in playful tussling and belly scratches, her half-hearted swipes at his hand more show than aggression. Her purrs filled the quiet space, a calming rhythm that grounded him.

    ¡°All right, that¡¯s enough of that,¡± he said, standing reluctantly and brushing dirt from his trousers. ¡°Let¡¯s see if we can figure out what¡¯s going on and where they¡¯ve taken Elara.¡± Misty flicked her tail, offering no comment as he turned toward the house.

    Inside, the house was dim, the faint light from the open door barely penetrating the shadows. The musty scent of aged wood mingled with the pungent aroma of old sweat. It was a modest place¡ªfunctional, worn, but with a sense of use that spoke to its occupants¡¯ practicality. Del started in the main room, methodically opening drawers and cabinets, their contents spilling haphazardly onto the floor.

    Ledgers for the woodcutting business filled one drawer, along with old, yellowing letters written in a firm but unpolished hand. They held no interest for him. Most of the furniture was rudimentary¡ªsturdy but unadorned, the kind of thing built for purpose, not comfort. The only exception was a small, unfinished chair propped in a corner. Its legs were uneven, and the joints showed rough gaps where they hadn¡¯t been sanded flush. Still, the attempt at detail in the carving¡ªa leaf motif on the backrest¡ªhinted at something more. Del ran his fingers over the design, tracing the clumsy lines. ¡®Ambitious, rough but may have potential.¡¯ He filed the thought away, moving on.

    In the kitchen, their gear sat piled on the table where they¡¯d eaten the night before. Relief prickled at the edges of his nerves as he ran a hand over his bow and sword. His fingers lingered briefly on the familiar leather straps of his vambrace before he turned to the cupboards. A faint smile tugged at his lips when he found an almost-empty vial of something that reeked of Sombercap. The sour smell was tinged with something else he couldn¡¯t place. ¡®This is what they drugged us with,¡¯ he thought grimly, pocketing the vial. ¡®Never know when that might come in handy.¡¯

    As he continued rummaging, Misty padded into the room, her ears twitching. She sniffed at a cupboard door and pawed at the baseboard, drawing Del¡¯s attention. ¡°What is it, girl?¡± he asked, crouching to inspect the spot she¡¯d found. Hidden behind a loose panel was a small compartment, just large enough to hold a tin box. Inside were a few copper and tin coins, along with a battered silver piece. Del turned the coin over in his hand, noting the unfamiliar symbols etched into its surface. ¡®No idea what this is worth, but I¡¯ll find out soon enough,¡¯ he mused, slipping the box into his pack.

    Upstairs, the house¡¯s humble nature became even more evident. Two small bedrooms, each as unremarkable as the last, greeted him. He easily identified Bran¡¯s room from the discarded shirt he wore the previous day. The room was a chaotic jumble of dirty clothes, tools, and a bed that looked like it hadn¡¯t been made in months. The floor was littered with scuffed boots and splinters of wood¡ªevidence of hurried repair work or a project abandoned midway. A crude hunting knife sat on the nightstand, its blade dull and spotted with rust. Del left it where it lay, uninterested.

    Seth¡¯s room, by contrast, was neater, though still far from immaculate. A simple desk stood by the window, cluttered with wood shavings and half-finished carvings. The tools scattered across the surface were basic but cared for, their edges honed to precision. Del¡¯s gaze fell on a piece of paper pinned to the wall above the desk. It was a rough sketch of a cabinet, the lines wobbly but earnest. He stepped closer, taking in the attempt at embellishments on the drawers and handles. ¡®Dreaming big, aren¡¯t you?¡¯ he thought, a flicker of something almost like regret passing through him.

    The beds in both rooms were unappealing, the smell of sweat and stale air strong enough to make him wrinkle his nose. Del moved quickly, unwilling to linger in the cloying atmosphere.

    Back downstairs, he opened the pantry and began gathering supplies. Bread, dried meats, and a wedge of hard cheese went into his pack. A modest stockpile, but enough to last a few days. In the back of the pantry, a low door caught his attention. He crouched and opened it, revealing an iron-bound chest. Pulling Bran¡¯s key from his pocket, he tried the lock. It resisted briefly before giving way with a loud click. Inside, he found only a few more coins and a tarnished necklace with a small, chipped stone pendant. He pocketed the contents, closing the chest quietly.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    As Del settled at the kitchen table, his thoughts lingered on the contents he had gathered. The weight of his sword and bow offered a faint reassurance, grounding him in the moment. Slinging the quiver over his shoulder, he traced a finger along the leather strap of his vambrace. Familiar tools for an increasingly unfamiliar world. He glanced toward the open door, his eyes catching on the familiar silhouette of Misty lounging on the porch, her tail twitching idly.

    A sudden movement froze him. Misty¡¯s ears flicked back, her posture tensing as she turned her head sharply toward the shed. Del rose instinctively, following her gaze. A rasping, laboured wheeze drifted faintly through the air, cutting through the stillness like a blade. His muscles coiled, every sense sharpening.

    He stepped to the doorway, his hand already moving toward his bow. At the edge of the shed, Bran¡¯s hulking form appeared, gripping the doorframe for support. The man swayed on unsteady legs, his breath wet and ragged, each inhale a struggle against gravity. Blood streaked his face, and one of his eyes was swollen shut, a vivid reminder of the earlier confrontation.

    Del unslung his bow in a single fluid motion, the string taut beneath his fingers as he nocked an arrow. ¡°Man, you look a mess,¡± he called out, his voice low and steady, though his heart raced beneath the surface. ¡°Still, well done on being able to take a hit like that.¡±

    Bran¡¯s lips parted as if to reply, but the words never came. With a sharp twang, the arrow flew, covering the short distance in a heartbeat. It struck true, embedding itself squarely in Bran¡¯s chest. The man staggered, his legs buckling beneath him before he crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap.

    Del stood still, his breath shallow as he stared at the motionless form. The world seemed to shrink around him, the forest sounds fading into an oppressive quiet. His fingers tightened around the bowstring, the tension echoing the tight coil in his chest. He forced a slow exhale, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to steady himself.

    ¡®What sort of man am I becoming, that taking a life is so damn easy?¡¯ The thought came unbidden, sharp and cutting. He¡¯d acted without hesitation, without a second thought¡ªlike it was instinct. But wasn¡¯t it? Bran had been a threat, still dangerous even in his weakened state. The man would have killed him without remorse if their roles had been reversed.

    But the reasoning felt hollow, and Del knew it. The body lying crumpled in the dirt wasn¡¯t just a faceless enemy¡ªit was a man. A man with a brother, a life, and a past. Del¡¯s eyes flicked to the house behind him, the image of Seth¡¯s rough sketches and unfinished furniture intruding on his thoughts. He swallowed hard, his throat dry as the faint taste of bile rose.

    He clenched his jaw, willing the tide of doubt to recede. ¡®You didn¡¯t have a choice. You didn¡¯t.¡¯ The words were meant to reassure himself, but they sounded weak, even in the privacy of his own mind. Del dragged his gaze away from Bran¡¯s body, his grip on the bow tightening until his knuckles turned white.

    ¡°Damnit, Del, stay focused,¡± he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if to physically rid himself of the weight pressing down on his thoughts. He couldn¡¯t afford to dwell on this¡ªnot now. There were more important things at stake, and Elara was counting on him.

    He glanced back toward the porch, where Misty had crept to the edge, her body low and her tail flicking in agitation. A low hiss escaped her as she stared into the tree line, her posture tense.

    ¡°What is it, girl?¡± Del asked quietly, slinging his bow over his shoulder once more. His voice was steady now, but the knot in his stomach hadn¡¯t eased. Misty turned without a sound, slipping silently into the underbrush. Her sleek form disappeared like a shadow, her movements fluid and deliberate.

    Del lingered for a moment, his gaze drifting back to Bran¡¯s body. The gnawing unease in his chest threatened to resurface, but he shoved it down, swallowing against the bitter taste in his mouth. There was no time to mourn or second-guess. He pulled the house door closed behind him, the sound of the latch clicking faintly in the silence, and followed Misty into the trees.

    The forest greeted him with its usual symphony of rustling leaves and distant birdsong, though now it felt more oppressive than serene. He followed Misty¡¯s faint trail, her paw prints barely visible in the soft earth. The direction was clear enough¡ªdownstream, toward where Seth had taken Elara.

    Each step carried him deeper into the forest¡¯s embrace, the air thick with the mingling scents of moss and damp wood. The tension in his chest grew with every passing minute, a gnawing unease that kept his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword. The canopy above filtered the sunlight into fractured beams, casting shifting shadows across the forest floor. Every creak of a branch or rustle of leaves set his nerves on edge.

    Misty reappeared briefly, her amber eyes catching the light before she darted ahead once more. Del quickened his pace, his grip tightening on his weapon. ¡°You better not lead me into trouble, girl,¡± he murmured, though he knew the cat wouldn¡¯t respond.

    His mind wandered as he walked, unbidden memories rising to the surface. The modest headstones outside the house flashed in his thoughts. He¡¯d noticed them earlier, half-hidden in the overgrown grass. Two graves, simple and unmarked beyond the worn stone slabs. The thought lingered like an ache, a reminder of lives lost and the ones left behind to carry on.

    ¡®Doesn¡¯t take long for this world to grind people down, does it?¡¯ Del thought bitterly, shaking his head. The brothers hadn¡¯t been saints¡ªBran, least of all¡ªbut they¡¯d been human. Somewhere along the way, the lines had blurred, and Del wondered if he¡¯d even know where to draw them anymore.

    He pushed the thought aside as Misty came to an abrupt halt ahead, her body low and tail stiff. Del crouched instinctively, scanning the area for signs of movement. The sound of rushing water grew louder, and he realised they were nearing the river. The faint outline of footprints in the mud confirmed it¡ªSeth had passed this way.

    ¡°Stay close,¡± he whispered, his voice barely audible as he crept forward. Misty slinked beside him, her movements silent as they followed the trail deeper into the shadows.

 Chapter 25 â€“ Tracking

    Del crouched low, his hand brushing aside the dew-damp grass as he studied the faint marks in the earth. His tracking skills had never been stellar, but these prints practically shouted at him. Seth¡¯s heavy footfalls left deep indentations in the mud, their edges still soft and glistening in the early morning light. Beside them, lighter, more scattered paw prints marked the ground, but Del knew they wouldn¡¯t last long under the warming sun.

    Misty padded silently ahead, her ginger fur blending with the dappled shadows beneath the canopy. Her tail flicked, and she gave him a mental nudge, her thoughts laced with disdain. ¡®Dog. Strong smell.¡¯ Del wrinkled his nose, almost imagining the abusive whiff of wet fur and slobber.

    The trail wound downstream, following the gentle gurgle of the river. Del¡¯s mind churned as they walked, the questions gnawing at him like a blade pressed too close to the skin. Why had the brothers drugged them? Why take Elara? And more importantly, why leave him alive?

    He glanced at Misty, her sleek frame moving with a predator¡¯s grace. ¡°What do you think, furball?¡± he asked aloud, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Did I do the right thing with Bran?¡±

    Misty didn¡¯t even glance back. She exhaled a sharp huff, her tail twitching as if to say, ¡®Figure it out yourself.¡¯

    Del sighed. ¡°Yeah, maybe you¡¯re right,¡± he muttered. He shook his head, the weight of his actions pressing heavier with each step. The memory of Bran¡¯s lifeless body flashed in his mind, the arrow still protruding from his chest. ¡®He had a knife,¡¯ Del thought defensively. ¡®I didn¡¯t. He thought I was tied up. What choice did I have?¡¯

    ¡®Keep telling yourself that,¡¯ came the snide retort. ¡®Say it often enough and you can justify anything.¡¯

    ¡®And what would you do different?¡¯ He thoughts angry.

    ¡®Nothing, it was him or you, just don¡¯t overthink things.¡¯

    But the argument felt thin, the silence of the woods offering no absolution. His jaw tightened. ¡®If they wanted me dead, why not just slit my throat while I was unconscious?¡¯ The thought lingered, cold and uncomfortable.

    The trail veered sharply, splitting into two paths. One was well-worn, its muddy ruts catching the morning sun in gleaming streaks, and it continued downstream, hugging the riverbank¡¯s curve. The other was a narrow, almost hidden track, its entrance marked only by a faint break in the underbrush. Misty hesitated, her nose twitching as she stood at the fork. Her tail flicked, and she padded deliberately toward the smaller path, her movements measured and purposeful.

    Del followed her lead, crouching to inspect the ground. The earth here was firmer, its surface packed tight by the rising warmth of the day. The tracks were faint, almost ghostly compared to the clear impressions they had followed earlier. He frowned, running his fingers lightly over a shallow indent.

    ¡°Fewer tracks here,¡± he muttered to himself. But Misty¡¯s soft mewl drew his attention. Her head tilted, her ears swivelling as she confirmed it in her own way: Seth had crossed the river.

    Del chuckled, his tension easing slightly. Scooping Misty into his arms, he cradled her against his chest. ¡°You just can¡¯t stand getting wet, can you?¡± he teased, earning an indignant glare. Her whiskers twitched, and she wriggled free the moment they reached the other side, landing lightly and shaking herself as if insulted by the mere suggestion of dampness.

    Once free, Misty¡¯s nose went straight to the ground, her whiskers quivering as she sniffed the air. Her amber eyes flicked to Del, and she began weaving through the underbrush with renewed urgency.

    The terrain shifted as they pressed deeper into the forest. The ground hardened beneath their feet, the earlier dew fading under the strengthening sun. Here, the trees grew closer together, their branches knitting into a canopy that muted the light into fractured beams. Shafts of sunlight danced across the forest floor, illuminating patches of moss and fallen leaves that crunched softly under Del¡¯s boots.

    Misty¡¯s pace quickened, her tail held low as she darted ahead, then paused to glance back at him. The light caught her eyes, making them gleam with an almost knowing intensity.

    Del¡¯s chest tightened, his breath catching. ¡°She¡¯s close, isn¡¯t she?¡± he murmured, his voice barely audible. Misty¡¯s soft mewl was all the confirmation he needed.

    He straightened, his gaze sweeping the woods ahead. The air felt thicker here, heavy with the mingling scents of damp earth and decaying leaves. Beneath it all was a faint aroma that set his nerves on edge¡ªblood, or maybe sweat. He wasn¡¯t sure which he feared more.

    Del¡¯s steps grew more measured, each one carefully placed to avoid snapping twigs or disturbing the brittle underbrush. Despite his efforts, the occasional misstep betrayed him. A sharp crack echoed through the stillness as his boot snapped a hidden branch.

    Misty froze, her body low and her ears flattening against her head. She turned to him, her glare sharp enough to pierce armour, and her tail lashed once in disapproval.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Del whispered, raising his hands in mock surrender. ¡°Not all of us were born to be stealthy.¡±

    Misty blinked at him, slow and deliberate, as if weighing the worth of his apology before turning back to the trail.

    The wind shifted, carrying with it the faintest sound¡ªa whisper of movement, a rustle just beyond sight. Del stiffened, his senses straining. He crouched lower, the bow slung across his back pressing lightly against his shoulder blades.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    He scanned the area, his breath slowing as he focused. A faint, almost imperceptible glimmer of understanding crossed his mind. The placement of the tracks, the shifting breeze, the faint imprints that might have eluded him before¡ªit all fell into place like the pieces of a puzzle.

    [Tracking has improved slightly]

    A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Maybe he wasn¡¯t completely hopeless after all.

    Misty moved like a shadow through the underbrush, her ginger coat blending with the shifting patches of sunlight and shade. Del followed at a careful distance, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword as the trees around him seemed to close in.

    The trail wound upward, the incline gradual but steady. Del¡¯s legs burned with the effort, but he welcomed the strain¡ªit sharpened his focus, grounding him in the moment. Above, the canopy swayed in a gentle breeze, the rustling leaves masking the softer sounds of movement.

    Misty paused ahead, her body stiffening. Del mimicked her instinctively, crouching low. The air had changed again, and this time, it carried something unmistakable: voices.

    Del¡¯s jaw tightened, his grip on his sword hilt firming. The time for tracking was over.

    The incline grew steeper, the path winding uphill. Del felt the strain in his legs as he climbed, his breathing steady but shallow. The breeze shifted, carrying the faintest trace of voices. He froze, his ears straining.

    One voice was sharp, female, and unmistakably Elara¡¯s. The other was deeper, gruff, and filled with irritation. Seth. Del¡¯s stomach clenched.

    ¡®Good,¡¯ he thought, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. ¡®Keep yelling, Elara. Make him angry. Distracted.¡¯

    Misty stopped abruptly, her body low to the ground. Del knelt beside her, his fingers brushing her flank as he sent a thought her way. ¡®Find a good spot. I¡¯ll move closer on the path.¡¯

    The cat shot him a look, her golden eyes narrowing.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll stay quiet,¡± Del hissed, rolling his eyes. He watched as Misty disappeared into the underbrush, her movements silent and fluid.

    He rose slowly, each step forward deliberate and careful. The sound of voices grew louder. The forest seemed to close in around him, the shadows deepening, the air thick with anticipation.

    Del crouched low behind a thicket, the leaves brushing his face as he carefully parted them for a better view. The clearing ahead was a modest break in the dense forest, dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above and spilling uneven patches of light onto the grass. Seth and Elara had paused for a rest, though the tension between them was palpable even from this distance.

    Newt lay sprawled near Seth, his oversized frame relaxed but alert. His pointed ears twitched at every shift in the breeze, his eyes fixed intently on Elara. She sat on the ground, her posture rigid with indignation. Around her wrists, a glowing, intricate chain glowed faintly in the dappled light, its shifting hues casting subtle ripples onto the dirt below.

    Del winced at the sight of it. They must be some sort of magical restraints.

    Elara¡¯s voice broke through the silence, sharp and cutting. ¡°Get these damn chains off me, you fat, hairy ape!¡± she bellowed, her tone brimming with fury.

    Seth remained maddeningly calm, his voice steady as he replied, ¡°You know I can¡¯t do that.¡±

    Del couldn¡¯t help but feel a flicker of admiration for her spirit. Even bound and under Seth and the dogs watchful eyes, Elara didn¡¯t waver.

    ¡°I won¡¯t run¡ªNewt could catch me easy. Please, I need to go. You know, go?¡± Her voice took on a desperate edge, and she shifted uncomfortably, crossing and uncrossing her legs for effect.

    Seth sighed, waving a hand dismissively toward the tree line. ¡°Step behind that tree if you must. You don¡¯t need me to unchain your magic just to take a piss.¡±

    Del suppressed a chuckle, his lips quirking into a small smile. ¡®Keep pushing him, lass,¡¯ he thought. He stayed motionless, letting the scene play out. With any luck, Seth¡¯s guard would drop, and more useful details would emerge.

    ¡°But whyyy?¡± Elara whined, drawing out the word in a voice that teetered between plaintive and theatrical. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she looked up at Seth, her expression a masterclass in pitiful persuasion.

    ¡®Playing the emotion card now, huh?¡¯ Del mused, both impressed and amused.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t stop whining, I¡¯ll gag you as well,¡± Seth snapped, his calm exterior beginning to crack. His frustration leaked into his voice, his words clipped. ¡°Shut up and walk. We¡¯ll be there just after the midday sun.¡±

    Del¡¯s ears pricked at the mention of a destination. ¡®Be there? Be where?¡¯ he wondered, his mind racing. The details were maddeningly vague, but every word mattered.

    ¡°You complete and total moron, Seth,¡± Elara spat, her voice rising with fury. ¡°I¡¯m not the prize you think I am.¡± Her tone shifted, growing more desperate. ¡°Let me go!¡± she screamed, tears streaking her face as her anger boiled over into frustration.

    Del¡¯s heart ached at the sight, her raw emotion cutting through his detachment. But before he could dwell, the wind shifted, carrying his scent up the rise toward the clearing.

    Newt¡¯s head snapped up, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. His eyes locked onto the foliage where Del hid, and a low growl rumbled in his chest.

    ¡®Fuck.¡¯ Del froze, his breath catching as his pulse thundered in his ears. He felt his fingers tighten on the bowstring, his muscles coiling instinctively.

    Before Newt could react, a streak of orange erupted from the underbrush. Misty. She moved like a flash of fire, her claws extended as she launched herself onto the massive dog¡¯s back. A yelp tore through the clearing as she raked bloody trails across his haunches before leaping clear and vanishing into the shadows.

    Newt spun, his massive frame crashing through the underbrush as he gave chase. The sound of snapping branches and fading snarls echoed through the forest, leaving Seth and Elara momentarily stunned.

    Del stepped into the clearing, his bow drawn and the string taut, an arrow trained squarely on Seth¡¯s chest.

    ¡°Now,¡± he began, his voice low and steady, ¡°why don¡¯t you do what the lady says and untie her? Then we can all sit down and have a nice, friendly little chat.¡±

    Seth¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief. ¡°What the hell? How are you¡ª¡± His hand darted toward his belt, reaching for a knife.

    Del¡¯s arrow flew, a sharp whistle cutting through the air. It struck the ground at Seth¡¯s feet, embedding itself in the dirt.

    ¡®Fuckit, missed again,¡¯ Del thought angrily.

    Seth froze mid-step, his face a mix of anger and caution.

    ¡°That¡¯s the only warning shot you get,¡± Del said, already nocking another arrow. His voice held a dangerous calm. ¡°The next one goes in your leg. Then your arm.¡± He shrugged lightly, his bow unwavering. ¡°So why don¡¯t we have a civilised talk instead? I don¡¯t want a new dog, and I¡¯m not in the mood for killing animals.¡±

    He paused deliberately, letting the silence stretch as he held Seth¡¯s gaze. ¡°You, on the other hand, still have options. Do you want to live or not?¡±

    Seth¡¯s grip on the knife faltered, his knuckles whitening as his eyes darted between Del and Elara. The tension in the air was suffocating, every second stretching into an eternity.

    Del waited, his stance steady, his aim unflinching. Behind Seth, Elara¡¯s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, her defiance undimmed.

 Chapter 26 â€“ Extra fish tonight

    Del¡¯s gaze stayed fixed on Seth, analysing his every move. The man¡¯s stance confirmed what Del had suspected from the beginning: he wasn¡¯t a fighter. The way he shifted his weight uneasily, the slight tremor in his fingers as they hovered near his blade¡ªit all screamed of someone ill-prepared for a true confrontation. Seth might have been a skilled woodsman or even a decent trapper, but he was no warrior. His brother Bran, however, had been a different story.

    ¡®He ¡®Was¡¯ the fighter,¡¯ Del corrected himself grimly. The memory of Bran¡¯s lifeless body flashed briefly in his mind, but he shoved it aside. Now wasn¡¯t the time to dwell on it.

    Seth hesitated, his fingers twitching before slowly sheathing his blade. His hand moved to a small pouch at his side, and Del tensed, ready to react. But instead of drawing another weapon, Seth produced a simple iron key, his movements deliberate as he extended it toward Elara. She snatched it from him without a word, the anger in her eyes barely veiled.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Bran?¡± Seth asked, his voice low and cautious. ¡°How did you find us?¡±

    Del remained silent, his eyes narrowing as he watched Elara unlock the glowing chains around her wrists. The faint hum of magic dissipated with a soft crackle, leaving her rubbing her wrists and glaring daggers at Seth. Only when he was certain she was free did Del finally speak.

    ¡°Take a seat,¡± Del said evenly, gesturing toward a nearby log. ¡°And give the girl a drink. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re both¡ª¡±

    A piercing yelp erupted from the woods, cutting him off mid-sentence. The sound was raw and pained, carrying through the trees like a knife through taut fabric. Seth spun toward the noise, his face twisting with alarm.

    ¡°Newt!¡± he called out, his voice rising in pitch. The yelping grew louder, punctuated by the frantic rustling of underbrush.

    Del¡¯s grip on his bow tightened instinctively, his body coiled like a spring. He watched as the massive black dog burst through the undergrowth, its muzzle streaked with blood. Deep gashes ran along its flank, the crimson staining its dark fur and matting in thick, clumped streaks.

    Newt whimpered pitifully, his large frame trembling as he charged toward Seth and tried to wedge himself behind his master. The dog, normally imposing, now seemed small and vulnerable, its body shaking with pain and fear.

    ¡°What the¡ª¡± Seth began, his words faltering as his eyes darted from his dog¡¯s injuries to the source of the commotion.

    From the shadows, a sleek ginger figure emerged with the calm arrogance only she could muster. Misty strolled into the clearing, pausing to survey the scene with a satisfied look. Blood specked her fur, but she seemed entirely unbothered, pausing to lick a paw and wipe it daintily across her face.

    ¡°What in all the hells is that?¡± Seth exclaimed, his voice teetering between disbelief and horror.

    Del smirked. ¡°That¡¯s Misty,¡± he said simply, his tone tinged with amusement. ¡°Surely you know what a cat is?¡±

    ¡°I know what a cat is, but that thing is some kind of demon spawn,¡± Seth shot back, crouching beside Newt to inspect his wounds. His hands trembled as he pulled a small tin of salve from his pack, unscrewing the lid with jerky movements. ¡°Have you seen what it did to my dog?¡±

    ¡°She gets protective of Elara and me,¡± Del replied, his tone casual, as if discussing the weather.

    Seth muttered something under his breath, his focus shifting fully to Newt. He worked with surprising care, spreading the salve over the dog¡¯s wounds with gentle fingers. Newt whimpered softly but stayed still, his large eyes darting nervously toward Misty.

    The cat sat a few paces away, her amber gaze fixed on the dog. Her tail twitched rhythmically, the slow, deliberate movement sending a clear message: she wasn¡¯t done with him yet.

    ¡®Good girl,¡¯ Del thought, sending the mental nudge to Misty. ¡®Extra fish for you tonight.¡¯

    Once Seth finished tending to Newt, Del gestured toward the log again. ¡°Sit down,¡± he instructed firmly.

    Seth obeyed reluctantly, lowering himself onto the log with a weary sigh. Newt immediately climbed onto his lap, curling his massive frame as tightly as he could against his master. Seth grunted under the weight, his posture stiff but resigned.

    Del watched the scene, noting the way Seth¡¯s hands lingered on Newt¡¯s fur, offering comfort to the trembling animal. Despite the circumstances, there was something almost touching about the way the man cared for his dog, his rough exterior softened by genuine concern.

    Feeling the situation was now under control¡ªwith Elara free, Newt subdued, Seth pinned under what must have been at least 150 pounds of terrified dog, and Misty ever-watchful¡ªDel finally allowed himself to relax. Slinging his bow over his shoulder, he stepped fully into the camp, his boots crunching softly against the forest floor.

    ¡°All right,¡± he said, his voice steady but firm. ¡°Let¡¯s have that nice, friendly little chat I mentioned.¡±

    He crouched beside Misty, giving her a scratch behind her ears. The cat leaned into his hand for a moment before flicking her tail, clearly pleased with her handiwork and ready to bask in her victory.

    ¡°Now, isn¡¯t that better?¡± Del said, his tone lighter but still carrying an edge of wariness.

    Straightening, Del moved to Elara. She looked up at him, her expression a mix of exhaustion and fragile relief. Without hesitation, he pulled her into a gentle hug, feeling the slight tremor in her frame.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°I knew you would come,¡± she murmured, her voice soft and steady despite everything she¡¯d endured. A ghost of a smile crossed her lips, faint but genuine.

    Del smiled back. ¡°Of course,¡± he said simply, the words carrying a weight of reassurance that didn¡¯t need elaboration.

    His eyes flicked to Seth, who sat slumped on the log, his hands resting on the trembling bulk of Newt sprawled across his lap. Seth¡¯s face was a portrait of conflicted emotions: fear, resignation, and¡ªmuch to Del¡¯s surprise¡ªa hint of relief. It was clear he didn¡¯t want to fight. If anything, the man seemed to cling to the hope that there was still a way out of this mess that didn¡¯t involve violence.

    ¡°So, where is Bran?¡± Seth asked again, his voice faltering slightly as he forced the words out. ¡°How did you find us?¡±

    Del hesitated. Truth had its uses, but it could also be wielded like a blade. He didn¡¯t want to lie, but the full truth could do more harm than good. And he had no desire to fight Seth, especially when the outcome felt all too inevitable.

    ¡°Bran is back at the lumber yard,¡± Del answered, his tone measured. ¡°And you weren¡¯t that hard to track.¡±

    Del studied the man for a moment before continuing. ¡°Why did you drug us?¡± he asked, his voice quiet but firm. ¡°What was the plan with Elara and me?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a man¡ªa wizard, I think¡ªback a couple of days into the woods,¡± Seth began. His voice was low, almost a mumble. ¡°He came by a while ago and asked us to keep an eye out for an elf girl.¡±

    Del¡¯s gaze sharpened, and he caught Elara¡¯s slight intake of breath.

    Seth continued, his tone growing heavier with each word. ¡°Two days later, you both show up. I didn¡¯t want to do anything. Just¡­feed you, let you rest, and send you on your way in the morning.¡± His voice broke slightly, and he paused to collect himself.

    ¡°But Bran¡­¡± Seth trailed off, shaking his head. ¡°He¡¯s always looking for an edge. Always trying to make a quick coin. Next thing I know, he¡¯s got the beer laced, and you¡¯re both unconscious. I knew what he¡¯d done, but I didn¡¯t stop him.¡±

    Seth¡¯s eyes glistened as he glanced at Elara, then quickly looked away. ¡°I argued with him, but he didn¡¯t care. He said either I took you to the wizard, or he¡¯d just¡­kill you and sell her to the slavers.¡±

    The raw shame in his voice was palpable, and Del found himself momentarily taken aback by the honesty.

    ¡°What was his plan for me?¡± Del asked quietly.

    Seth¡¯s hands stilled on Newt¡¯s fur. He didn¡¯t look up. ¡°He said he¡¯d keep you another day or so and then let you go.¡±

    ¡°Did you believe him?¡± Del pressed, his voice hardening.

    ¡°No,¡± Seth admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He lifted his gaze briefly to meet Del¡¯s, then dropped it again, unable to hold the weight of the question.

    Del¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°He came at me with a knife,¡± he said flatly. ¡°But I was already free.¡±

    Seth finally looked up, his eyes searching Del¡¯s face. ¡°There was a fight,¡± Del added, his voice softening slightly. ¡°He didn¡¯t win.¡±

    The words hung in the air like a physical presence. Seth¡¯s chest rose and fell as he took a deep, steadying breath. ¡°Is he¡­?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Del replied gently.

    The tears came silently, rolling down Seth¡¯s face as he stared at the ground. ¡°Mum always said one day he¡¯d pick on the wrong person,¡± he murmured, his voice breaking.

    Del glanced at Elara, who stood a few paces away, her expression unreadable but tinged with sadness. Del was well aware of the turmoil in his own heart. He¡¯d been right to defend himself, to stop a man intent on harm. But in doing so, he¡¯d left Seth to bear the weight of a fractured family, alone in the aftermath of his brother¡¯s poor choices.

    Seth¡¯s shoulders sagged as Del¡¯s words settled over him. His hand drifted absently to Newt¡¯s head, stroking the dog¡¯s fur with a trembling touch. The large animal whined softly, pressing closer to his master, as if sensing the storm of emotions swirling within him.

    ¡°I should¡¯ve stopped him,¡± Seth muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes remained fixed on Newt, but they seemed distant, as though looking past the dog and into memories too heavy to bear. ¡°I knew Bran was dangerous. Always pushing too far, always looking for trouble. But he was my brother. How do you fight against blood?¡±

    Elara, who had been standing stiffly to the side, shifted her weight. Her arms crossed over her chest, and for a moment, she seemed ready to lash out again. But as she looked at Seth, her expression softened, her anger dimmed by the raw pain in his voice.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t stop him,¡± she said, her tone quieter now but still sharp enough to sting. ¡°And because of that, he nearly got us both killed. Do you realise that?¡±

    Seth flinched as though she¡¯d struck him, his hand stilling on Newt¡¯s fur. He opened his mouth to speak but faltered, his throat working as he tried to force the words out.

    ¡°I do,¡± he choked, his voice cracking. His free hand clenched into a fist against his thigh. ¡°I know I failed. You don¡¯t think I see it every time I look at him?¡± He gestured toward Del, his hand shaking. ¡°I knew Bran wasn¡¯t going to let him walk away. I knew it, and I still didn¡¯t stop him.¡±

    The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze and Newt¡¯s quiet wimpers.

    Elara took a hesitant step forward, her gaze lingering on Seth. Her lips pressed into a thin line as though she were waging an internal battle of her own. Finally, she crouched down beside him, her movements slow and deliberate.

    ¡°Look at me,¡± she said softly.

    Seth hesitated, his gaze still fixed downward.

    ¡°Look at me,¡± Elara repeated, her voice firmer now. When he finally lifted his head, his tear-streaked face was filled with shame and remorse.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t tie me up,¡± she said, her voice low but steady. ¡°You didn¡¯t threaten to hand me over to the slavers. That was Bran. And now¡­he¡¯s gone. Whatever he did, whatever he wanted, it¡¯s done. You have to decide what comes next. Are you going to carry on his mistakes, or are you going to do better?¡±

    Seth blinked at her, his lips parting as though to respond, but no sound came out. Instead, his head dipped again, and a tear slid down his cheek, glistening in the dappled sunlight.

    Del watched the exchange silently, his grip on his bow loosening as the tension in the clearing shifted.

    Seth¡¯s hand moved back to Newt, stroking the dog¡¯s ears with a gentleness that seemed at odds with his rugged appearance. His voice, when it came, was so soft Del almost missed it.

    ¡°I just wanted to keep us safe,¡± he murmured. ¡°Bran always thought he was the strong one, the smart one. I let him make the choices because I thought¡­I thought he knew better. I thought he¡¯d protect us both.¡±

    ¡°And now?¡± Del asked quietly, stepping closer.

    Seth¡¯s eyes met Del¡¯s, hollow and red-rimmed. ¡°Now I¡¯m not sure I even know what protecting someone means.¡±

    Elara reached out, her hand resting lightly on Seth¡¯s forearm. The gesture was subtle but deliberate. ¡°You don¡¯t have to figure it out alone,¡± she said softly. ¡°But it starts with doing the right thing now. No more wizards. No more slavers. No more running from the mess Bran made.¡±

    Seth nodded faintly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. Newt whined again, nuzzling against his master¡¯s chest, and Seth buried his face in the dog¡¯s fur for a moment, drawing a deep, shuddering breath.

    Del exchanged a glance with Elara, a silent understanding passing between them. Whatever came next, they¡¯d made it clear where Seth stood¡ªand where he didn¡¯t.

    The forest around them seemed unnaturally quiet, the usual symphony of rustling leaves and distant birdsong muted, as if the woods themselves were holding their breath.

    ¡®Menolly, I think you were right about moral ambiguity,¡¯ Del thought bitterly. The clarity he¡¯d sought in his actions was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a swirling mess of doubt and conflicting emotions.

 Chapter 27 â€“ Wizards Bounty

    Del found himself standing at the crossroads of too many problems, each one threatening to unravel the thin thread of control he was desperately clinging to. The weight of uncertainty pressed heavily on his shoulders. Elara stepped closer, looping her arm through his. Whether the gesture was for her own comfort or his, he couldn¡¯t tell, but he welcomed it. The warmth of her touch was a grounding force in the chaos.

    ¡®Well now, Del, this is a bit of a pickle,¡¯ he thought bitterly. He shook his head, his lips tightening into a grim line. Unslipping the bow and quiver from his back, he handed them to Elara.

    ¡°I need to think,¡± he said, his voice flat but determined. ¡°Keep an eye on Seth. Don¡¯t kill him unless you have to.¡±

    The faintest gulp escaped Seth, his Adam¡¯s apple bobbing visibly. Del almost laughed at the absurdity of the moment. ¡®So people really do gulp in fear¡ªgood to know.¡¯

    He stepped away, pacing just beyond Elara and Seth, his boots crunching against the uneven forest path. Each step seemed to amplify the thoughts racing through his mind.

    ¡®I am not a murderer,¡¯ he told himself firmly. The conviction steadied him for a moment. ¡®Killing him might be easy, but it¡¯s not an option. Not unless he gives us no choice.¡¯

    The forest around them seemed unusually quiet, the kind of stillness that made him feel watched. The usual chorus of birds had faded to a distant murmur, as if even the wildlife were wary of intruding. Del took another few paces, his hand brushing against the rough bark of a nearby tree. The faint scent of pine sap mingled with the subtle smell of moss, grounding him as his thoughts whirled.

    Finally, he turned back to Seth, his voice breaking the uneasy silence. ¡°Tell me about this wizard,¡± he said, his tone sharp with purpose.

    Seth, who had been partially hidden behind Newt¡¯s bulk, started at the question. He¡¯d been murmuring to the dog, his fingers absently stroking Newt¡¯s fur. Now, he looked up, his eyes wary.

    ¡°What do you want to know?¡±

    Del¡¯s hand made an impatient gesture. ¡°Everything. I know nothing about him, so start talking. Especially if he¡¯s after Elara.¡±

    Seth hesitated, his lips pressing together as though weighing what to share. Finally, he sighed, the tension in his shoulders visible.

    ¡°I don¡¯t really know much,¡± he admitted. ¡°He¡¯s lived up in the High Woods near the river spring for as long as I can remember.¡±

    ¡°What makes you say he¡¯s a wizard?¡± Del pressed.

    Seth¡¯s gaze flicked to the ground, his hand stilling on Newt¡¯s fur. ¡°It¡¯s just what people say. The kind of thing that gets passed around in taverns and villages. Maybe it¡¯s just to keep kids from wandering too far into the woods. But everyone says he¡¯s an old wizard who fought in the last heaving.¡±

    The word snagged Del¡¯s attention like a thorn. He narrowed his eyes. ¡°Heaving? What the hell is that supposed to mean?¡±

    Elara and Seth both looked at him as if he¡¯d just sprouted horns.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know the heavings?¡± Seth asked, incredulous. Even Elara tilted her head, her expression puzzled.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t,¡± Del snapped. ¡°I¡¯m not from around here, remember? Assume I don¡¯t know anything and explain.¡±

    Seth blinked, clearly thrown by the sharpness of Del¡¯s tone, but he began to speak.

    ¡°Every four hundred years or so, the creatures of the Underdark start to multiply. They push up to the surface in random places across Gondowa, destroying everything in their path. Towns, kingdoms¡ªgone in weeks if no one stops them. When it happens, the sapient races have to come together and fight them off before they overrun everything. That¡¯s what we call the heaving.¡±

    Del frowned, the pieces of this world¡¯s history slowly slotting into place. The concept of the Underdark was familiar from old stories back home, but hearing it spoken of as a real, recurring threat sent a chill down his spine.

    ¡°And this wizard fought in the last heaving?¡± he asked, his curiosity sharpening.

    Seth nodded. ¡°Yeah, at least, that¡¯s what people say. The last one was about 270 years ago.¡±

    Del¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°So he¡¯s what? A human who¡¯s lived for several centuries?¡±

    ¡°Seems human enough,¡± Seth said with a shrug. ¡°But magic does strange things to people. Who knows?¡±

    Elara, who had been quiet until now, leaned slightly toward Del, her expression thoughtful. ¡°You¡¯ve gone quiet,¡± she said softly. ¡°What are you thinking?¡±

    Del rubbed the back of his neck, his mind a whirlwind. ¡°That we have a potentially immortal wizard up in the hills who¡¯s interested in you, for reasons we don¡¯t understand. It¡¯s¡­a lot to process.¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    He turned back to Seth. ¡°Did he tell you anything else? Did he give a name?¡±

    Seth shook his head. ¡°No name. We just called him the wizard. He came by the yard a couple of days before you showed up. Said he was looking for an elf girl and offered a whole gold piece if we brought one to him.¡±

    ¡°A whole gold piece?¡± Del asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Seth said. ¡°Enough to make people greedy, but not enough to seem too desperate. That¡¯s how these types operate.¡±

    Elara¡¯s voice cut in, cool and sharp. ¡°Did he give you a description?¡±

    ¡°Not really,¡± Seth admitted. ¡°Just young and probably travelling alone. He didn¡¯t say why he wanted her, and I didn¡¯t ask. I don¡¯t mess with magic users¡ªthey¡¯re more trouble than they¡¯re worth.¡±

    Del exhaled slowly, the weight of their predicament settling heavily on him. The wizard wasn¡¯t just some vague figure lurking in the background anymore. He was a real, tangible threat.

    ¡°What about slavers?¡± Del asked abruptly. ¡°You mentioned them earlier. How big of a problem are they around here?¡±

    Seth shrugged. ¡°Not common, but they¡¯re around. You hear about them more than you see them. They trade mostly in the big cities¡ªrunaways, thieves, people no one will miss.¡±

    Del absorbed this new layer of danger, filing it away alongside the wizard and the Underdark. It was too much to take in all at once, but he couldn¡¯t afford to let it overwhelm him.

    He glanced at Elara. She was watching him with a mixture of concern and determination, her dirty blonde hair catching the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.

    ¡®I barely know her,¡¯ he thought, the realisation hitting him with an odd sense of guilt. ¡®And yet, I feel like I¡¯ve known her forever.¡¯

    Del nodded, Elara¡¯s quiet confidence steadying his own resolve. He turned to face Seth, who was still crouched next to Newt. The dog¡¯s rhythmic breathing was the only sound in the clearing, a counterpoint to the tension that hung thick in the air.

    Del¡¯s gaze lingered on Seth, and the weight of the decision pressed down on him. What am I going to do with you? The question felt heavier with each passing second. Seth might no longer be a direct threat, but he was an unknown quantity¡ªand unknowns had a way of turning dangerous.

    Seth seemed to sense the scrutiny, his shoulders shrinking under Del¡¯s hard stare. ¡°What happens to me now?¡± he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

    Del didn¡¯t answer right away. Instead, he paced a few steps, the soft footfalls on the leaves underfoot the only interruption to the silence. The forest around them was unnaturally still, as though the trees themselves held their breath, waiting for the moment to unfold.

    Finally, Del stopped and turned back to Seth. ¡°You acted badly toward us,¡± he said, his tone sharp and measured. ¡°You had no idea what fate you were leading Elara to. You might not have known Bran intended to kill me, but you must have suspected he wasn¡¯t above it.¡±

    Seth¡¯s face twisted in a grimace, and he looked away. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t think it would go that far,¡± he muttered. ¡°I just thought¡­¡± He trailed off, the words dying on his lips.

    Del watched him for a moment, noting the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead and the way his hands trembled slightly, even as he tried to hide it by stroking Newt¡¯s fur.

    ¡°Now Bran is dead,¡± Del continued, his voice quieter but no less firm. ¡°And you¡­ I don¡¯t know what to do about you.¡±

    Elara stepped forward, her expression unreadable. ¡°Do you think we should kill him?¡± she asked, her voice calm and measured.

    Seth flinched, his eyes widening in alarm. His breathing quickened, and his gaze darted between Del and Elara, as if searching for a way out that didn¡¯t exist.

    ¡°Please,¡± he rasped, his voice raw with desperation. ¡°Don¡¯t kill me. Please.¡±

    Del shook his head, though the doubt lingered in his mind. ¡°No,¡± he said slowly. ¡°I don¡¯t think we should. But that doesn¡¯t mean I can just let you walk away, either. You were part of this, Seth, and I can¡¯t pretend otherwise. Even if Bran was the driving force, you had a choice¡ªand you made it.¡±

    The silence that followed was deafening. Seth¡¯s head dropped, and he looked down at Newt, his fingers clutching the dog¡¯s fur like a lifeline.

    Elara broke the stillness. ¡°Seth, what would you do if we let you go?¡±

    The question seemed to catch him off guard. He hesitated, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye as he raised his head to look at her.

    ¡°Go back and bury Bran,¡± he said softly, his voice trembling. ¡°Then Newt and I would pack up what we could and move on.¡± He paused, as though the next words cost him something to say. ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to make furniture. Tables, chairs, things people need. Bran always said it wouldn¡¯t pay, but¡­ Well, he doesn¡¯t get a say anymore.¡±

    Del studied him, watching for any sign of deceit. All he saw was exhaustion and a faint, flickering hope.

    ¡°If that¡¯s what you¡¯re going to do,¡± Del said finally, ¡°then you¡¯d better do it. Maybe one day I¡¯ll find your shop and buy a chair from you.¡± His tone hardened, and his eyes locked onto Seth¡¯s. ¡°But if I ever see you again in a way that makes me feel threatened, you¡¯ll join your brother. Do you understand me?¡±

    Seth nodded quickly, his movements jerky. ¡°Yes. I understand.¡±

    Del exhaled, the weight of the decision settling on him like a lead cloak. ¡°All right. Get up. Go.¡±

    He turned to Misty, who had been observing the exchange. ¡°Keep an eye on him, girl. Make sure he doesn¡¯t try anything stupid.¡±

    The ginger cat stretched languidly, her green eyes narrowing as she fixed Seth with a piercing stare. Then, with a flick of her tail, she leapt up onto a branch, disappearing into the shadows.

    Del sent her a mental nudge. ¡®Follow them for a mile or so. Let them catch a glimpse of you here and there, but stay hidden. If they head back to the yard, catch up with us.¡¯

    Misty¡¯s reply came with a hint of amusement, as she acknowledged the ease of her task.

    Seth didn¡¯t wait to be told twice. He stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid to provoke an attack. Newt stayed close to his side, whining softly as they turned and began walking down the narrow trail.

    Del watched them go until the shadows of the trees swallowed them. Only then did he turn to Elara. She stood a few paces away, her arms wrapped around herself, her face streaked with silent tears.

    Before he could say anything, she stepped forward and threw her arms around him, her grip fierce. Her quiet sobs dampened his shoulder, and he rested a hand on her back, offering what comfort he could.

    ¡°I thought you were dead,¡± she whispered, her voice breaking. ¡°And I thought I was next.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re safe now,¡± Del murmured. ¡°We both are.¡±

    After a moment, she pulled back, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Del reached into his pack and handed her the waterskin, watching as she took a few gulps.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± she said, her voice steady once more. Without a backward glance, she started toward the river.

    Del followed, his thoughts heavy with everything that had transpired. He couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of their troubles.

 Chapter 28 â€“ A monkeyâ€™s uncl

    Misty prowled ahead, her ginger coat a bright contrast against the muted greens and browns of the undergrowth. She moved with practiced ease, her ears twitching at unseen sounds as she occasionally paused to sniff at something of interest. At one point, she crouched low, her tail flicking as though she¡¯d cornered invisible prey. Emerging moments later, she stopped to lick a paw and groom her face, the slight rise of her tail carrying an unmistakable air of satisfaction.

    Beside Del, Elara walked with quiet purpose, her keen gaze sweeping the forest. There was a watchfulness to her movements, as though she half-expected trouble to spring from the shadows. Her vigilance was interrupted when a flicker of motion caught her eye. She touched Del¡¯s arm lightly, halting his steps.

    ¡°Look,¡± she said softly, nodding toward a cluster of wildflowers swaying near the path. Hovering above them was a small insect, its translucent wings catching the light like fractured crystal.

    Del squinted, his head tilting slightly. ¡°It looks like a butterfly,¡± he murmured. Its wings, patterned with rich golds and muted crimsons, reminded him of something distant and half-forgotten. ¡°Like a Red Admiral¡­ at least it reminds me of one.¡± A frown crept across his face as the words left his mouth, a brief pang of nostalgia tugging at him. The comparison felt absurd in this place. He let the thought fade, replacing it with a rueful shake of his head.

    Elara¡¯s eyes lingered on the creature as it flitted away into the trees. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± she said, her tone thoughtful.

    They continued on, their steps quieter now, as if the forest demanded reverence. Del¡¯s attention drifted to the ground, where faint impressions marred the soft soil. He crouched, tracing the small, narrow prints with a gloved finger. ¡°Some kind of dog?¡± he guessed, uncertain.

    ¡°Maybe a fox,¡± Elara offered, kneeling beside him. Her voice carried the same note of curiosity as her gaze followed the trail.

    A little further along, they encountered larger tracks¡ªrounder, deeper, with faintly cloven edges. ¡°That looks like¡­ a deer, maybe?¡± Del ventured.

    ¡°Probably,¡± Elara said with a slight smile. ¡°Whatever it was, it hasn¡¯t been gone long.¡±

    The path carried them onward, the sound of the river weaving through their silence. After a time, Elara broke it. ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll go through with it?¡± she asked, her voice tentative. ¡°Seth, I mean. Bury Bran, start over somewhere far away?¡±

    Del hesitated, weighing the question. ¡°Maybe,¡± he said eventually. ¡°Losing everything changes people. He sounded sincere, but who knows how long that will last?¡±

    Elara nodded, though her brow furrowed faintly. ¡°He seemed¡­ afraid,¡± she murmured. ¡°Not just of us, but of what he might become.¡±

    ¡°That fear might be enough to save him,¡± Del said. ¡°It¡¯s a push in the right direction, at least. I couldn¡¯t see the point in killing him. Not when there¡¯s still a chance he could change.¡±

    For a moment, Elara said nothing, though the slight easing of her posture suggested she shared his hope¡ªor wanted to. Ahead of them, Misty reappeared, perched on a low branch with her tail flicking in an almost theatrical display of impatience. Del felt a subtle pressure at the edges of his mind¡ªfaint but insistent. The nudge was followed by an impression of movement: forward, faster.

    Del sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. ¡°We¡¯re coming,¡± he muttered under his breath. Elara glanced at him, puzzled, but said nothing as he waved her question off. ¡°Just Misty, being Misty.¡±

    The trees continued to thin, patches of open sky growing more frequent. The soft calls of birds mingled with the rustling of reeds along the riverbank, a quiet symphony of life. With every step, the world ahead seemed to grow a little closer.

    The river widened as they continued, its banks edged with reeds that swayed gently in the breeze. Birds flitted overhead, their calls a melodic counterpoint to the rhythmic crunch of their footsteps on the path mingled with the gentle babble of the river as Del and Elara made their way forward. The forest thinned further with each step, revealing glimpses of blue sky through the treetops. For the first time in days, the tension that had dogged their every move seemed to ease. The journey offered a fleeting sense of tranquillity, a welcome balm after the chaos of recent days.

    As they crested a shallow rise, the village came into view. It nestled in the valley below like a forgotten treasure, its sturdy wooden palisade encircling the settlement like a protective embrace. The timbers, aged and grey, stood firm against the elements. Inside, a patchwork of thatched roofs dotted the landscape, their golden straw glinting in the late afternoon sunlight. The buildings seemed haphazardly arranged, as if the village had grown organically rather than by design; their placement dictated by necessity rather than aesthetics.

    At the village¡¯s heart lay a communal square, its centre marked by a weathered stone pillar standing crooked with age. Around it, a small collection of market stalls added splashes of colour to the rustic scene. Beyond the square, the river meandered lazily, its course spanned by a narrow stone bridge softened at its edges by moss and ivy. Smoke rose from chimneys in slow spirals, carrying with it a tapestry of aromas¡ªroasting meat, fresh bread, and the faint tang of ash.

    As they descended towards the village, new scents joined the mix. The pungent musk of livestock mingled with the occasional sharpness of manure, grounding the idyllic scene with earthy reality. The lowing of cattle and grunts of pigs created a rustic symphony, blending with the faint creak of cartwheels and the occasional shout of a vendor. Beyond the palisade, fields stretched out in neat rows, vibrant crops swaying gently in the breeze. Some homes boasted vegetable gardens, their tidy plots evidence of a hardworking community.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Del paused for a moment, taking in the scene. His gaze lingered on the thatched roofs and the bustling square. ¡®Looks like a picture come to life,¡¯ he thought, the image of a pastoral painting springing to mind. ¡®A Constable; complete with hidden sharp knives.¡¯

    As they approached the outskirts of the village, the atmosphere shifted. Children playing outside the palisade noticed them, their laughter fading into cautious silence. Wide-eyed, they stood frozen for a moment before one broke away, bolting toward a building near the riverbank just outside the gates. The others quickly followed, darting into alleyways or slipping through the gates, their excitement replaced with the wariness of strangers.

    The building the child ran to stood out among the others. Its roof was tiled rather than thatched, the dark slate glinting faintly in the sunlight. A tall chimney jutted from the rear, belching thick plumes of smoke into the sky. The rhythmic hammering they had heard earlier ceased abruptly as the child disappeared inside.

    Moments later, a man emerged. Broad-shouldered and solid, his frame spoke of a life spent in physical labour. Soot smudged his skin, and sweat gleamed on his brow, catching the light. He wore a heavy leather apron, its surface scarred and worn, and carried a large hammer loosely in one hand. His sharp, calculating gaze fixed on them as they approached.

    Del took in the sight with a faint trace of wry amusement. ¡®Well,¡¯ Del, he mused, if that¡¯s not every storyteller¡¯s perfect depiction of a village smith, then I¡¯m a monkey¡¯s uncle.¡¯

    ¡°Afternoon,¡± the smith said, his voice low and deliberate. It carried a mix of curiosity and guardedness, a reminder that they were strangers here. ¡°Don¡¯t get many coming down from the hills.¡±

    Del returned his gaze evenly. ¡°We¡¯ve been travelling for a few days,¡± he replied. ¡°Exploring and hunting. Found the river and followed it down.¡±

    The smith nodded slowly, though his expression didn¡¯t soften. ¡°Can be dangerous up there,¡± he said. ¡°Lots of folks that have no good in mind for honest people.¡± His tone was calm but carried an unmistakable challenge, as though testing the truth of their story.

    ¡°I know,¡± Del said. ¡°Ran across a couple of bandits who tried to have at us. They¡¯d already gotten the better of some other poor soul.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± The smith straightened slightly, his grip on the hammer shifting just enough to draw attention to its weight. ¡°Can you describe them? What about this other fella?¡±

    Del recounted the encounter, describing the bandits as best he could. Elara added her own touches, weaving small details into the story with a storyteller¡¯s ease. When Del described the unfortunate victim they had found, something in the smith¡¯s stance changed. It was subtle¡ªa tightening of his jaw, a faint narrowing of his eyes¡ªbut it spoke of recognition.

    ¡°There was nothing on him that could help me identify him,¡± Del said, reaching into his pouch. ¡°Except this.¡±

    He pulled out the pendant, holding it up for the smith to see. The metal was worn smooth, its edges softened by time. The smith leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied the piece. A flicker of recognition passed over his soot-streaked face, though his expression remained guarded.

    ¡°Show this to Vita,¡± he said, straightening. ¡°She¡¯s the village bonesetter. If anyone¡¯s likely to know something about it, it¡¯s her.¡±

    Del nodded, slipping the pendant back into his pouch. ¡°Thanks, I will.¡± He hesitated briefly before continuing, ¡°Is there an inn or tavern where we can freshen up? Maybe get something to eat?¡±

    Merl gave the two of them a long, measuring look, his gaze flicking between Del¡¯s tired face and Elara¡¯s wary posture. His eyes narrowed slightly, as though weighing whether they might bring trouble to his quiet village. Finally, he nodded.

    ¡°Inn¡¯s just on the other side of the square. You can¡¯t miss it. Jake¡¯s a good man and a terrible cook, so here¡¯s hoping his wife¡¯s in the kitchen tonight. Tell him Merl sent you, and he¡¯ll see you right.¡±

    Del extended his hand, and Merl grasped it in a firm handshake, his grip rough with years of hard labour. ¡°Thank you, Merl. I¡¯m Del, and this is Elara,¡± Del said, gesturing to his companion. He glanced around, his eyes searching for a familiar flash of ginger fur but finding nothing. Misty was likely off doing whatever it was that Misty did.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll see you again before we leave,¡± Del added with a faint smile. ¡°We need supplies and probably some gear maintenance.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be here,¡± Merl replied. He stepped back into the forge doorway, his broad frame silhouetted against the glow of the hearth. Del could feel the smith¡¯s eyes lingering on them as they moved away, a silent guardian of his village. Moments later, the rhythmic clang of his hammer resumed, ringing out over the square.

    Del and Elara stepped further into the heart of the village. The dusty streets were alive with activity, bustling with the sounds and smells of a thriving community. Children darted between cottages, their laughter echoing through the narrow alleys. A group of them raced past, their bare feet kicking up little puffs of dust as they shouted and giggled in a language that was universal to all children.

    Older youths moved with more purpose, balancing bundles of firewood or hefting buckets of water as they completed errands. Women bustled between homes, some carrying baskets overflowing with vegetables or cloth, others lingering at garden gates to exchange gossip. Their chatter blended with the occasional peal of laughter, creating a lively hum that filled the air.

    Del¡¯s eyes roamed the scene, taking in the details. A carpenter¡¯s shop stood open to the street, where two men worked side by side, their tools moving in synchrony as they shaped wood into something he couldn¡¯t quite identify. Across the way, a cooper sat on a low stool outside his workshop, carefully tapping staves into place on a large barrel. The rhythmic sound of his mallet was a quieter echo of the smith¡¯s hammer.

    Further down the street, Del caught a glimpse through the open window of another cottage-turned-shop. Inside, a man was meticulously folding and arranging clothes on a series of low tables. The space was simple, but the garments were clearly cared for, their colours vibrant against the muted backdrop of the shop¡¯s stone walls.

    Most of the businesses appeared to be converted front rooms of cottages, their doors propped open to welcome customers. The village had a rustic charm that felt homely and unpretentious, as though it had grown organically over time rather than being carefully planned. Smoke drifted lazily from chimneys, carrying with it the rich scents of baked bread and spiced stews, mixed with the rustic smell of livestock from the nearby fields.

    Del slowed his pace, the atmosphere tugging at something deep inside him. The scene reminded him of a place he knew so well¡ªhis small-town home from what felt like another lifetime. The nostalgia hit him hard, a bittersweet pang that settled in his chest like a dull ache.

    ¡®Don¡¯t go getting daft now,¡¯ he chastised himself, the thought sharp but tinged with a hint of humour. ¡®Too much to do to get tied up in homesickness, you daft old bugger.¡¯

    Elara glanced at him, her expression curious but saying nothing. She seemed to sense his momentary lapse into introspection and allowed him his silence.

    Ahead, the square began to take shape, the central stone pillar standing crooked but proud at its heart. Del focused his thoughts forward. There was still much to do¡ªand questions to answer.

 Chapter 29 â€“ Cock and Ball

    Elara nudged Del¡¯s arm, her voice a low whisper. ¡°Do you notice anything?¡±

    He blinked, startled out of his reverie, and glanced at her. ¡°Sorry, I was miles away. What have you noticed?¡±

    ¡°Look at the people,¡± she replied cryptically, her words pulling his attention back to the bustling streets around them.

    Her observation drew him out of his daydreams, the warm ambience of the village dissolving as he forced himself to focus. At first, the activity around them seemed perfectly normal¡ªvillagers going about their daily routines, chatting and laughing in the sunlit square. But as Del began to pay closer attention, subtle details surfaced.

    Some of the locals barely spared them a glance, continuing their work without interruption. Others, however, cast curious looks their way, the kind reserved for strangers passing through a tight-knit community. Most of these glances were harmless, though there was an occasional edge of suspicion in their eyes. And then there were the hostile ones¡ªbrief but unmistakable glares that prickled at the edges of Del¡¯s awareness.

    Del¡¯s stomach tightened as he noticed a pattern. The individuals who regarded them with hostility didn¡¯t linger. Their gazes darted away as quickly as they appeared, and more than once, he saw them slip into narrow streets or disappear behind buildings.

    He leaned closer to Elara, lowering his voice. ¡°Well, Elara, I guess we stay friendly and stay on our toes. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll find out soon enough if something¡¯s going on.¡±

    She gave a small nod, her expression serious. ¡°They don¡¯t seem used to elves,¡± she murmured, her tone tinged with a faint unease.

    ¡®Or,¡¯ Del thought, feeling a flicker of trepidation, ¡®word of the wizard¡¯s bounty has reached here too.¡¯ The possibility sent a shiver up his spine.

    The central square opened up before them, bustling with life. On one side, a collection of carts and stalls stood under colourful awnings, each one offering an assortment of goods. A butcher proudly displayed an array of fresh cuts alongside a fishmonger whose wares dwarfed the river catch Misty had delivered earlier. Nearby, a baker¡¯s stall was piled high with golden loaves and pastries that glistened in the sunlight. The scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the saltiness of fish and the distinct smell of blood, creating a heady mix that hung heavy in the spring air.

    Other stalls showcased household items¡ªbrooms, pots, and tools that gleamed from careful polishing. The cheerful shouts of vendors calling out their wares blended with the hum of conversation, the occasional laughter of children, and the rustle of cloth as customers piled goods into bags.

    Behind the market stalls loomed a large building, its heavy double doors flanked by a wrought iron gate. The structure exuded an imposing air, as though its presence demanded respect. The villagers passing by it cast quick, deferential glances toward it before hurrying on their way.

    At the far end of the square stood a taller stone building, three storeys high and unmistakably one of the largest in the village. Its sign, painted with an image of a colourful bird bound to a heavy iron ball, swung gently in the breeze. The faded lettering beneath it declared the name: The Cock and Ball.

    Del pushed the door open, and the interior welcomed them with warmth and light. Despite the pleasant day outside, a large open hearth blazed cheerfully against one wall, its heat radiating across the room. The wooden floor was scattered with sawdust and straw, and a faint aroma of ale and stew hung in the air. Tables and chairs were scattered throughout, mostly unoccupied at this time of day. A few patrons sat in quiet conversation, their voices low and indistinct.

    Behind the bar stood a broad-shouldered man, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that hinted at years of hard work. He was wiping down the bar with a practised ease, and as they entered, he looked up, his face breaking into a polite smile.

    ¡°Afternoon, miss, sir,¡± he greeted. ¡°Welcome to the Cock and Ball. How can I help you?¡±

    Del returned the smile. ¡°You must be Jake. Merl sent us your way¡ªsaid you might be able to help us freshen up and get something to eat.¡±

    Jake¡¯s smile broadened, his features lighting up with good-natured humour. ¡°He would do at that,¡± he chuckled. ¡°And he¡¯s not wrong. I can get you food, and a bath if you¡¯re needing it. If it¡¯s just a wash-up, there¡¯s a trough out back to take the road off your face and hands.¡±

    Elara, who had been quiet beside Del, suddenly brightened, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. ¡°I could so manage a hot bath,¡± she said, her voice practically bouncing with excitement.

    Jake grinned at her enthusiasm. ¡°Bath¡¯s two copper¡ªor three for hot. Plus a copper for the boy.¡± He had barely finished speaking when Elara produced four coins from her pouch and dropped them on the bar with a satisfied smile.

    Jake¡¯s hand swept the coins into his palm with an ease that spoke of long practice. With a sharp whistle, he called out, and a moment later, a lanky boy emerged from a doorway at the far end of the bar. The lad looked to be in his early teens, his face marked by the awkwardness of adolescence. His skin bore the familiar signs of acne, and his shoulders were slightly hunched, as though he were trying to make himself smaller.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Hot bath, son,¡± Jake said, jerking his head toward the stairs. ¡°Room two¡¯s free.¡±

    The boy nodded briskly. ¡°Follow me,¡± he said, his voice cracking slightly as he addressed Elara. She beamed at him and followed eagerly, leaving Del standing by the bar.

    Jake leaned back against the counter, his gaze flicking toward the stairs where Elara had disappeared. ¡°She seems keen,¡± he remarked with a faint grin.

    ¡°She¡¯s had a rough few days,¡± Del replied. ¡°We both have.¡±

    ¡°You missed lunchtime,¡± Jake said as he wiped his hands on a towel slung over his shoulder. ¡°Dinner¡¯s at dusk, but I can rustle you up some bread and cheese in the meantime.¡±

    ¡°That would be very welcome,¡± Del replied with a tired smile. ¡°And a mug of ale too, if you could.¡± He paused, stretching his arms as if to shake off the weariness of the road. ¡°Meanwhile, I¡¯ll just use your facilities and freshen up a bit.¡±

    Jake grinned. ¡°Latrine¡¯s out back, by the fence¡ªcan¡¯t miss it if you¡¯ve got a nose,¡± he added with a chuckle.

    Del simply nodded, heading through the back door. Outside, the air was cooler, and the faint smell of damp earth mingled with the sharp, unmistakable odour Jake had warned about. He found the trough easily enough, its surface rippling slightly in the breeze. Kneeling, he splashed water over his face and hands, scrubbing away the grime of travel. The coolness was invigorating, and as he stood, he felt a little more human. After attending to the other matter, he returned inside, feeling lighter, if still watchful.

    As Del stepped back into the tavern, the low hum of conversation greeted him. Two men sat at a nearby table, their voices quiet but carrying just enough for him to catch a word that froze him mid-step: wizard.

    The men glanced up as he entered, their conversation halting abruptly. Their eyes lingered on him for a moment too long before one of them pushed his chair back with a scrape and strode toward the door, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor. Del tracked his movements, unease prickling at the back of his neck.

    ¡®Didn¡¯t I say I wanted uncomplicated?¡¯ Del thought, his lips tightening as he crossed to the bar. Jake handed him a plate and a mug, and he carried them to a table against the wall. Sitting down, he placed his back to the solid wood and positioned himself with a clear view of the stairs and the entrance.

    ¡®Paranoid, Del,¡¯ he chastised himself as he took a bite of bread. The warm, nutty flavour was satisfying, and the butter spread generously over it melted into rich decadence. The cheese was sharp and crumbly, a perfect contrast. Washing it down with a gulp of ale, he sighed. ¡®Better paranoid than dead¡ªor worse.¡¯

    The tavern was pleasant, he had to admit. Its warm, rustic charm and the quiet bustle of life outside gave it an inviting air, the kind of place where you might let your guard down. But Del couldn¡¯t afford to relax completely. He noted the absence of the man who had left the table earlier.

    ¡®Of course,¡¯ he muttered internally, loosening the knife at his hip. The blade rested reassuringly within easy reach. The ale, though, was another matter entirely¡ªrefreshing with a bright citrus note that lingered pleasantly on his tongue. For a moment, he allowed himself to savour it, the fleeting thought crossing his mind that it would be so easy to forget the weight of the world and simply enjoy the peace.

    Elara¡¯s arrival snapped him out of his reverie. She descended the stairs with a contented smile, her damp hair curling slightly as it framed her face. Her skin glowed, fresh from the bath, and her step seemed lighter.

    ¡°I needed that,¡± she said, settling into the chair across from him. Jake appeared moments later, setting down another plate of bread and cheese along with a mug of ale for her. He lingered for a moment, glancing around the room before sliding onto the bench beside them.

    ¡°Planning to stay long?¡± he asked, his tone friendly but with an undercurrent of caution.

    ¡°Just a night or two,¡± Del replied, watching Jake¡¯s expression carefully.

    The barkeep nodded, leaning forward slightly. ¡°I can put you up for a night, maybe two, but that¡¯s it. Folk around here can get¡­ leery about strangers. And begging pardon, miss,¡± he added, glancing at Elara, ¡°but some here still hold grudges against your kind.¡±

    Elara¡¯s expression softened, and she gave him a warm smile, her voice kind. ¡°Thank you for the warning, Jake. It¡¯s appreciated.¡±

    Jake shrugged, his gaze steady. ¡°I¡¯ve got no quarrel with any kind of folk. But some people here¡­ Well, they don¡¯t let go of old grudges easily.¡±

    ¡°Noted,¡± Del said. ¡°Thanks for your honesty.¡± He passed Jake a tin coin. ¡°Food and board for two days, possibly three. Keep the rest for your trouble¡ªand your candour.¡±

    Jake pocketed the coin with a nod, his smile returning. ¡°Room two¡¯s already yours,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll have the boy make it up for you. Dinner¡¯s at dusk.¡±

    As they finished their refreshments, Del stood, carrying their empty plates and mugs back to the bar. ¡°Thanks, Jake,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯re looking for someone called Vita. Can you point us in the right direction?¡±

    ¡°Old Vita?¡± Jake raised an eyebrow. ¡°Sure. Head out the south gate and cross the river at the bridge. Follow the path for about five minutes, and you¡¯ll see her cottage among the trees.¡±

    Del nodded his thanks, and the pair stepped back into the village streets. The activity had begun to ebb slightly as the afternoon wore on, though the occasional glance¡ªsome curious, others less so¡ªstill followed them. Del caught sight of a particularly sharp glare and shook his head.

    ¡®Nothing queer as folk,¡¯ he thought wryly.

    As they passed through the gate and back into the outskirts, Misty reappeared, weaving her way through the grass to join them. Del felt her familiar mental presence brush against his thoughts. ¡®Is everything all right?¡¯ he asked, his question tinged with the faintest flicker of concern.

    Her response was unexpected¡ªa jumble of emotions, images, and impressions that seemed disjointed at first. Confusion, wariness, flashes of faces, and the shifting energy of the village crowded his mind. Then, clearer than before, came something unmistakable: ¡®Confusing place. Good, bad, both.¡¯

    Del stopped abruptly, nearly tripping over his own feet. He stared down at Misty, his eyes wide with shock. Elara stopped too, looking at him in alarm.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Del?¡± she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

    He shook his head, a mixture of wonder and disbelief spreading across his face. His lips twitched into a faint smile as he glanced between Misty and Elara.

    ¡°Nothing, lass,¡± he said, his voice tinged with humour. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ my damn cat just spoke to me.¡±

 Chapter 30 â€“ Vita, I assume?

    Elara blinked at him, brows knitting together in confusion. "She what?" she asked, tilting her head. "How?"

    Del exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to put it into words. "I¡¯ve always been able to feel Misty¡¯s emotions," he explained, nodding toward the ginger cat, who sat grooming a paw with complete indifference. "As my companion, we¡¯ve got a sort of¡­ mind link over short distances."

    Elara¡¯s curiosity deepened, her gaze shifting between Del and the feline, waiting for more.

    "I normally see a sort of blurry image of what she¡¯s seen or is seeing, you know," he said, tapping his temple. "In here. I can also tell if she¡¯s happy, scared, or angry. Strong emotions come through the clearest¡­ and, well, a common one seems to be ¡®hungry.¡¯"

    He smiled down at Misty, who stretched lazily under the attention, her tail flicking with smug satisfaction.

    ''Not scared. Don¡¯t do scared,'' Misty¡¯s voice purred in his mind, her amusement unmistakable.

    On a whim, Del sent a silent thought skyward, directing it toward whatever unseen forces might be listening. Best to check something basic before he started running his mouth¡ªhe¡¯d already been pulled up on that once. No point in getting another telling-off.

    ''Menolly, Teach, or oh-great-BB¡­ do folks around here have access to your stuff? Levels and all that? Or is it just me?''

    For a moment, there was nothing but the rustle of the trees, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot as they walked. Then, a familiar robotic voice chimed in his head.

    "They have not been integrated into the Overmind. If they had, this test would not have been necessary."

    Then, silence.

    ''Alright, that answers that question. No confusing the natives with talk of levels and shit then, Del.''

    Shaking off the thought, he turned back to Elara. "So, because of this strong bond, I think she¡¯s picking up new tricks¡ªkind of learning more."

    Elara nodded thoughtfully, fingers absently tracing the strap of her bag. "I have heard tales," she said, weighing each word as if testing its truth. "Some rare mages bond with animals and create intelligent allies. Some even extend their power through the creature."

    "But I¡¯m not a mage," Del pointed out, frowning slightly.

    Elara only shrugged. "That is also true," she conceded, a smirk tugging at her lips. "But perhaps Misty doesn¡¯t think that¡¯s important." She chuckled, reaching down to stroke the ginger furball, who accepted the attention as her due.

    Del huffed a quiet laugh. "Right," he said with conviction. "Onwards to find the wicked witch of the West."

    Elara blinked at him. "What?"

    "Nothing," he grinned. "Just an old children¡¯s tale from back home."

    Still inwardly chuckling, he mused about leaving a trail of breadcrumbs as they ventured deeper into the woods. The path narrowed, winding between towering trees whose gnarled roots reached out like fingers, threatening to trip the unwary. Sunlight trickled through the thick canopy above, dappling the ground with shifting patches of gold and green. The further they walked, the richer the scent of the forest became¡ªearthy dampness mingling with the fresh spice of pine and the faint floral sweetness of unseen blooms.

    It didn¡¯t take long before they caught sight of a clearing ahead.

    The first thing Del noticed was the scent¡ªa rich, complex blend that seemed to reach out and pull him into the clearing before he had even taken a proper step forward. The air was thick with the perfume of blooming flowers, a mix of honeyed sweetness and citrus sharpness, undercut by the deeper, grounding aroma of damp earth and crushed leaves. Interwoven with these were sharper, almost medicinal undertones¡ªdried herbs, pungent resins, and something faintly peppery, like crushed seeds left to steep in the sun. It was neither overwhelming nor cloying, but balanced and deliberate, as though the very air had been infused with a quiet kind of magic, an unspoken invitation to breathe deeply and let the world outside this place slip away.

    A low wooden fence, its posts smooth with age, encircled the garden, though it felt more like a boundary marker than a true barrier. Vines, heavy with delicate white blossoms, clung to the slats, curling around each beam as though nature itself had woven them into the structure rather than being restrained by it. Beyond the fence, the garden unfolded in an eruption of colour and life.

    Flowers of every imaginable hue burst forth in thick, unruly clusters¡ªsome standing proudly on long, slender stalks, their petals spread wide like welcoming arms, while others draped lazily over trellises, their blossoms heavy with nectar. Sunbursts of gold and orange flared beside deep indigos and crimsons, petals seeming to shift in hue as the light played across them. The air was alive with the faint buzz of bees drifting from bloom to bloom, their presence a quiet reassurance that this place belonged to the natural world as much as it did to the one who tended it.

    But it wasn¡¯t just flowers. Among the riot of colour, Del caught sight of familiar plants¡ªthe sheen of silverbloom, its leaves trembling slightly in the breeze, the deep green of feldspar nestled in careful rows, and the unmistakable star-shaped blossoms of nightshade, their dark beauty a warning in itself. Others were entirely foreign to him, strange, twisting vines with glowing pollen sacs, herbs that seemed to release their scent when disturbed by the wind, and mossy growths that shimmered faintly in the shifting light.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    The pathways that wove through the garden had been carved with clear intent. They were not rigid or overly manicured but wound naturally, allowing access without trampling the life that thrived here. Some stones bore intricate carvings, runes etched deep into their surfaces, though whether for decoration or something more practical, Del couldn¡¯t say. The result was a place that straddled the line between wild and tamed, a masterful balance between human hands and nature¡¯s will.

    At the heart of it all sat the cottage¡ªa quaint yet sturdy structure painted white, its thatched roof darkened slightly with age. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney, twisting in the air like a beckoning hand. The windows were small but clean, their shutters a soft, muted blue, and a narrow porch stretched across the front, its wooden planks worn smooth by years of use.

    And seated upon that porch, watching them with quiet interest, was a woman. Her gaze was steady, unreadable yet not unfriendly, as though she were weighing something unseen. The gentle creak of her rocking chair was the only sound between them for a moment, blending seamlessly with the rustling leaves and the distant hum of life within the garden.

    Del slowed his steps, glancing briefly at Elara before focusing on the woman ahead.

    Misty darted ahead with the effortless grace only a cat could manage, her paws barely making a sound as she weaved between the stepping stones. Before Del could even call her back, she had already leapt onto the woman¡¯s lap, kneading at the fabric of her apron with deliberate little motions before curling herself into a perfect ball of ginger fluff.

    A soft, tinkling laugh rose from the woman, light and natural, as if the sound had been waiting just beneath the surface. She stroked Misty with gentle fingers, murmuring something that Del couldn¡¯t quite make out. The cat, utterly content, let out a deep, resonant purr, her tail flicking lazily.

    By the time Del and Elara reached the low wooden gate, the woman¡¯s attention was once more on them, watching with keen eyes that held a quiet mix of curiosity, amusement, and something else¡ªan awareness that made Del feel as though she had already learned something about him before a single word had been exchanged.

    "Good afternoon," Del said, offering a friendly smile. "Vita, I assume?"

    The woman gave a small nod of acknowledgement, her fingers still stroking the cat in slow, absentminded motions. Up close, she looked to be a few years younger than him, dressed in simple but well-worn clothes. The knees of her trousers were dark with dried mud, and her apron bore deep pockets, from which a few stray leaves peeked out. Her light brown hair was swept up into a neat, practical bun, with a few loose wisps escaping to frame her face. But it was her eyes that stood out¡ªwarm yet sharp, filled with both kindness and a knowing humour, as though she was always on the verge of some inside joke with the world.

    "I¡¯m Del, a bit of a traveller, new to these parts. This is Elara, my friend." He inclined his head toward the purring mess of contentment on Vita¡¯s lap. "And you¡¯ve already met Misty, who seems to have taken a liking to you."

    Vita¡¯s lips curved into a small smile as she glanced down at the cat, idly scratching behind Misty¡¯s ear. "The bond you have with your cat already tells me much about you, young man."

    ''Young? Should get your eyes checked,'' Del thought wryly, but he kept the remark to himself.

    "Come," Vita said, pushing herself to her feet with the easy movement of someone accustomed to physical work. "Let¡¯s get some tea, and you can tell me what brings you to my home."

    As soon as she started toward the door, Misty sprang down and trotted inside, as if she had always belonged there. Vita simply shook her head in amusement, opening the door wider and stepping aside to let them enter.

    Inside, the house exuded an immediate sense of comfort. The air was tinged with the rich, woody scent of dried herbs, mingled with something faintly sweet¡ªperhaps from the bundle of lavender hanging near the window. The room they stepped into was clearly a workroom, though not a cluttered one.

    A padded examination table stood in the centre, its surface well-worn but clean. Against the walls, sturdy wooden cupboards lined the space, their doors slightly ajar to reveal neatly arranged rows of vials, bundles of dried plants, and various instruments. A large worktable sat beneath a wide-paned window, beside a modest iron stove. Atop it, a small cauldron sat cooling, its contents still faintly steaming, surrounded by an assortment of glass flasks, pestles, and cutting boards covered in finely chopped herbs. The air carried a distinct medicinal aroma¡ªbitter, sharp, and vaguely familiar. It reminded Del of the herbal remedies section of a health store.

    Vita led them through to the adjoining room, which had an entirely different atmosphere. This space was lived in.

    A hearth flickered at the far end, radiating a comfortable warmth. A few well-loved armchairs were positioned near it, their cushions plumped but slightly misshapen with use. A modest wooden dining table sat near a kitchen area, where a cast-iron range stood beside a simple countertop and sink. The windows were small but let in enough daylight to make the space feel open rather than cramped.

    Vita bustled to the stove, lifting a heavy kettle with practised ease and giving it a quick shake. Satisfied with the amount of water inside, she set it over the heat and turned back to them, motioning for them to sit.

    Del lowered himself into one of the armchairs, stretching his legs slightly. The warmth of the fire seeped into his road-weary muscles, and for a moment, he allowed himself to simply exist in the space, absorbing the homely stillness of it.

    Vita returned a few moments later, carrying a tray with three earthenware cups, a stout teapot, and a small jug of milk. She set them down on the table with an air of quiet efficiency before settling into a chair opposite them.

    "Now," she said, pouring the tea, "you¡¯re not my usual patients. So what brings you to my little piece of the woodlands?"

    Del accepted a cup with a murmured thanks, while Misty¡ªwho had claimed her own spot curled up by the hearth¡ªpurred as she lapped at a saucer of milk Vita had set down for her.

    "We met Merl, the smith, back in Stonebridge," Del began, cradling the warm ceramic cup in his hands. "We were talking about our travels through the woods, and he suggested we come see you."

    "Did he now?" Vita said, her expression intrigued. "And why would he do that?"

    Del took a slow sip of the tea before answering. The flavour was deep and earthy, with a faint floral undertone that softened the bitterness. It was surprisingly good.

    "Up in the higher woods, I was attacked by some ruffians, I won, they lost." He shrugged as if it had been a minor inconvenience rather than a life-threatening encounter. "But before I got there, they had already attacked someone else. Killed him."

    He set his cup down and reached into his pouch, pulling out the pendant he had taken from the dead man¡¯s body.

    "I described the victim to Merl and showed him this. It was the only thing I found on him that might serve as an identifier. When I showed it to Merl, he suggested you might recognise it."

    Vita regarded the pendant with quiet intensity, the humour in her eyes fading as something more solemn took its place. She reached out her hand, palm open, fingers steady.

    "Why would he think that?" she asked softly. "May I?

 Chapter 31 â€“ Lucas

    Del placed the pendant into Vita¡¯s waiting palm. She accepted it carefully, her fingers tracing the smooth metal as if committing every curve and engraving to memory. Slowly, she turned it over, rubbing its surface with gentle reverence before lifting it to her lips and pressing a brief, solemn kiss upon it.

    "The man¡­" she began softly, her voice edged with sorrow. "He would have been young. A bit shorter than you, with mousey hair." She hesitated, her eyes flickering with distant recollection. "He also had a mild limp, but you wouldn¡¯t have seen that. He was getting over a sprained ankle."

    Her fingers trembled slightly as she traced the edge of the pendant, the metal cool against her skin. She turned it over slowly, as if seeing it for the first time, despite knowing every detail by heart. A breath hitched in her throat, and her lips pressed into a thin line, but the grief still broke through in the shimmer of unshed tears pooling at the corners of her eyes.

    "His name was Lucas," she continued, her tone thick with emotion. "I gave him this pendant when I accepted him as my apprentice two years ago." Her thumb brushed over the three interlocking circles etched into the surface, lingering there for a moment. "These three rings are the mark of a bonesetter¡ªone who heals, who offers aid to those in need."

    She swallowed, her throat working against the weight of memory. "He was¡­ eager," she murmured, a distant smile ghosting across her lips, though it was burdened with sorrow. "Always asking questions, always pushing to learn more. He wanted to do more than just mix salves and bind wounds¡ªhe dreamed of understanding the deeper forces behind healing. I had to remind him constantly that no tincture, no remedy, no poultice could fix everything." She let out a small, shaky exhale. "That there are limits to what we can do."

    Her fingers ghosted over the back of the pendant, brushing across the faint, delicate etchings there. "The inscription is in Archan," she murmured, her voice distant, as if speaking more to herself than to them. "It¡¯s the script we use to guard our secrets¡­ our recipes. This here is his name." Her fingers lingered on the letters, tracing them with a reverence that spoke of love as much as loss.

    Del lowered his eyes, exhaling a slow breath at the weight of the revelation. "I¡¯m sorry to bring you this news," he said gently.

    Vita studied the pendant for a long moment, her thumb running absently across the engraving. The fire crackled softly in the silence that followed. When she finally spoke, her voice was steadier, but the sorrow hadn¡¯t fully left it.

    "It is better to hear the truth than to wonder on the possibilities," she said. "Lucas was out gathering plants¡ªrare ones that only grow at higher altitudes. He was also studying the shifting of the seasons. I wouldn¡¯t have realised he was missing for at least another month yet."

    Her shoulders sagged slightly, and she let out a slow breath, the weight of her words settling over her like a thick cloak. She lifted the pendant once more, running her fingers over its worn surface, then closed her fist around it, holding it against her chest for a brief, fleeting moment¡ªjust long enough for the gesture to carry unspoken meaning.

    "May I keep this?" she asked finally, looking up at Del, her voice soft but firm.

    He gave a solemn nod. "Of course. It¡¯s right that you do."

    A hush settled over the room, thick with the weight of remembrance. Vita remained still, the pendant cradled in her palm, as if lost in a tide of memories only she could see. The only sound was the steady, rhythmic purring from Misty, curled up by the hearth, utterly undisturbed by the sombre mood in the room.

    A gust of wind pressed against the wooden walls of the cottage, rattling the herb bundles strung above the stove. The flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows across the shelves, as if the room itself breathed in quiet mourning alongside her.

    After a long pause, Vita exhaled, slow and measured, before slipping the pendant into the depths of one of her apron pockets. She gave her eyes a quick, discreet wipe and straightened her shoulders, smoothing out the fabric of her tunic as if shaking off the lingering grief.

    "Enough of that," she said firmly. "I can relive memories and honour his loss another time. For now, is there anything else I can help you with?" A ghost of a smile touched her lips, though it didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. "I¡¯m not being the most gracious of hosts."

    Elara shook her head. "It¡¯s completely understandable," she assured her. "If you need time alone, we can always return another day."

    Vita took a steadying breath, her fingers drumming lightly against the arm of her chair. Then, with a small sigh, she waved a hand dismissively. "No, but thank you," she said. "It¡¯s not often we see one of your kind in this region, and I can sense that something is troubling both of you."

    Del exchanged a brief glance with Elara before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. "The villagers'' attitude towards elves seems¡­ off," he said carefully. "But I get the feeling there¡¯s more going on here than just old prejudice."This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Vita considered this for a moment before nodding. "Stonebridge has always been insular," she admitted, pushing herself up from her chair. She began gathering the empty cups, carrying them to the sink as she continued. "Though perhaps more so of late."

    She set the dishes down and turned back to them, crossing her arms. "A long way back, in the early days of the village, there was trouble with raiding parties of elves. They believed the woods were theirs alone, that there was no place in them for humans. For generations, the skirmishes continued, bitter and bloody. It was a time of turmoil, of distrust, and loss on both sides." She exhaled, shaking her head slightly. "Eventually, peace was forged. As Gondowan society became more interwoven, the old feuds settled. That all happened many heavings ago; but¡­" She offered a wry smile. "In village life, memory is long, and often unbending."

    Elara frowned slightly, absorbing the words with quiet contemplation.

    Vita leaned back against the counter, her expression growing more thoughtful. "There¡¯s been talk, more than usual, about the wizard in the hills," she said. "People say he¡¯s stirring again."

    Del arched a brow. "We already came across his activities but couldn¡¯t be sure he was really alive after all those years, or someone was playing up to use the legends."

    Vita gave him a knowing look. "Oh, he¡¯s alive, all right. No one doubts that. He¡¯s been up there as long as anyone can remember. Some say he was already an old man during the last heaving, and yet he hasn¡¯t aged a day since. Magic does strange things to people."

    Elara¡¯s expression darkened slightly, and Del caught the faintest flicker of discomfort in her eyes. "And what¡¯s he stirring for this time?" she asked, her voice measured.

    "That¡¯s the question, isn¡¯t it?" Vita mused, crossing her arms. "A few traders passing through mentioned seeing cloaked figures in the woods, strangers moving through the trees at dusk. Some swear they¡¯ve seen strange lights flickering near the old quarry. There¡¯s tension in the air, the kind that sets people on edge." She shook her head. "If he¡¯s been looking for something¡ªor someone¡ªno one knows why. And that¡¯s what worries people the most."

    Del exchanged a glance with Elara. They knew. The wizard was searching for an elf girl. And that meant, without a doubt, that Elara was still in danger.

    Del drummed his fingers absently against his knee, mulling over her words. The village¡¯s hostility towards outsiders, the long-held grudges, the rumours of a wizard many thought had died long ago¡­ It all felt like pieces of a larger puzzle, one that was still missing too many parts to make sense of just yet.

    But one thing was clear¡ªwhatever was happening in Stonebridge, it was deeper than mere superstition. And they were now caught right in the middle of it.

    Vita regarded Elara with quiet thoughtfulness, her gaze steady, as if weighing something unseen. "There have also been stories of elves moving through the woods. As if searching for something¡­ or someone. It¡¯s possible that¡¯s what¡¯s stirred up the old fears and prejudices."

    Del caught the subtle shift in Elara¡¯s posture¡ªthe slight stiffening of her shoulders, the way her fingers tightened just a fraction on the fabric of her tunic. A reaction so small that most would have missed it, but he knew her well enough by now to recognise the unease lurking beneath her composed exterior.

    "I hadn¡¯t heard that," Elara said carefully, her voice even but carrying a hint of something guarded.

    Vita simply nodded, unconcerned. "Rumours come and go," she said, brushing a stray curl from her face. "Some have meaning. Others are just wind through the leaves."

    A quiet settled over the room, the only sound the soft hiss of the kettle still cooling on the stove. The warmth of the hearth made the space feel insulated from the outside world, and yet the conversation had brought with it a lingering sense of unease, as though unseen threads were beginning to pull together in ways none of them yet understood.

    "I do know that the people of Stonebridge seem worried about something," Vita continued, glancing toward the window as if half-expecting to see the village beyond its glass. "I don¡¯t know what, exactly. But take care while you¡¯re here. Keep your ears and eyes open. Maybe you¡¯ll figure it out, maybe nothing is happening at all, and I¡¯m just an old woman mumbling ghost stories over an open fire."

    Del let out a small chuckle. "Hardly that," he assured her. "But we¡¯ll be careful all the same. And if you think of any way we might be able to help, just let us know. We¡¯re staying at the Cock and Ball with Jake."

    A flicker of amusement passed through Vita¡¯s expression. "He¡¯s a good man," she said, "but if you want a proper meal, ask his wife to prepare it. Jake knows his beer, not seasoning." A wry smile tugged at the corner of her lips before fading into something softer. "If you move on from here, do stop by before you leave. I¡¯ll prepare some salves and remedies for your journey. The road can be harsh."

    Elara¡¯s face warmed with gratitude. "That¡¯s very kind of you, Vita. Thank you."

    Del gave Misty a mental nudge. Time to leave.

    The ginger cat opened one eye, then stretched luxuriously, her claws extending before she settled back onto her paws with deliberate laziness. Nice human. Trust, she remarked idly.

    Del arched a brow at her but said nothing.

    They both thanked Vita once more for her time and advice. As Del turned to leave, he paused just before stepping onto the porch. "If you need anything while we¡¯re here, don¡¯t hesitate to call on us."

    Vita inclined her head in silent appreciation. Then, just as they were about to step back into the cool evening air, she added, "Go and see Paolo, the village elder. If anyone knows what¡¯s going on¡ªif anything is¡ªit¡¯ll be him."

    They gave a final nod before stepping outside, back onto the wooden porch. The fresh scent of the garden filled their lungs once more, though now it carried a strange weight, as if the very air had thickened with unanswered questions.

    Del and Elara walked the narrow path through the carefully cultivated garden, their boots crunching softly against the earth. Beyond the low wooden fence, the darkening forest loomed, the distant sounds of the village beginning to weave back into their awareness.

    Neither of them spoke immediately, but the conversation with Vita lingered between them, unspoken yet pressing, like a shift in the wind before a coming storm.

    As they passed beneath the arching branches of the trees, heading back towards Stonebridge, Del exhaled slowly.

    "Well," he murmured, "this just got a lot more interesting."

 Chapter 32 â€“ A drink to Lucas

    The walk back to Stonebridge was uneventful¡ªat least in the sense that nothing attempted to kill them, eat them, or both. The dense woodland stretched around them, the towering trees forming a natural canopy that filtered the late afternoon light into shifting patches of gold and shadow. The air carried the crisp scent of damp earth and pine resin, with the occasional sharp tang of distant woodsmoke drifting in from unseen chimneys. The ground, softened by recent rain, gave slightly beneath their boots, muffling their steps as they followed the winding trail.

    Misty roved ahead, her sleek ginger form vanishing effortlessly between roots and undergrowth, only to reappear moments later from a completely different direction. At times, she launched herself onto their shoulders from a low-hanging branch, gripping just tightly enough to make them stumble before leaping away again with a flick of her tail. She was in a playful mood, and neither Del nor Elara had the heart to scold her. Del caught the faintest curve of amusement at Elara¡¯s lips as she wrestled the mischievous feline off her shoulder, tickling her under the chin before letting her bound away. Playful moments like these might be rare in the coming days¡ªit was best to let Misty enjoy them while she could.

    As they walked, Del and Elara spoke about their meeting with Vita. They now had a name for the man Del had found slaughtered in the woods¡ªLucas. Somehow, knowing his identity made his death feel all the more real, stripping away the distance of anonymity and replacing it with something tangible and tragic. The knowledge settled uncomfortably in Del¡¯s chest, a fresh reminder of how fragile life was in this world he still struggled to navigate.

    "And what about the history with the elves?" Del asked, glancing sideways at Elara. "Do you know any more about that?"

    Elara¡¯s gaze remained on the path ahead, her expression thoughtful. "I know it was long ago," she replied. "My grandparents spoke of stories dating back to their childhood and beyond. But the tales they told had a different perspective. To them, the humans were the aggressors when they first began encountering elven folk. Conflict followed¡ªthen truces, then trade. And eventually, as things are now, elves and humans coexist without issue."

    She gestured ahead, where the village rooftops had begun to emerge through gaps in the trees. "At least, I thought they did. Stonebridge still seems to have a problem. And I can¡¯t think why."

    Del exhaled, rolling his shoulders as the weight of their conversation pressed against his thoughts. "All we can do is keep our heads down and see what comes to light. This might be about more than just old grudges."

    As they stepped back into Stonebridge, the village appeared much as they had left it. Children played noisily in the streets, their laughter carrying through the cooling evening air as they darted between wooden carts and low stone walls in an endless game of tag. Older youths were at work, sweeping doorsteps, stacking crates, or tending to livestock¡ªthe minor but essential tasks upon which any settlement survived.

    Some of the adults cast wary glances in their direction, but most barely acknowledged them, more interested in their daily work or casual gossip.

    "I want to see Merl," Del said.

    Elara nodded, and they adjusted their course towards the village smithy. The rhythmic clang of hammer on metal rang through the cooling air as they neared the workshop. The scent of hot iron and burning coal thickened, mingling with the ever-present aroma of damp earth and woodsmoke. Del rapped his knuckles against the wooden doorframe, and Merl, glancing up from his work, motioned them inside.

    The smithy was well-kept, with tools neatly arranged along one wall and finished pieces displayed on another. Most were practical¡ªhoes, shovels, door handles, even an ornately crafted iron gate. But a few items stood out. Among the cooking knives and farming tools, a single sword and several curved daggers gleamed under the dim lantern light, their edges catching the glow of the nearby forge. The walls and floor were made of brick, their surfaces darkened by years of soot and heat. At the back of the workshop, the furnace burned hot, its coals glowing an angry red as Merl pumped the bellows with one hand, shifting the metal deeper into the fire.

    "The kids told me you headed out the south gate," he remarked, jerking his head towards a group of children still loitering outside.

    Del hazarded a guess that they were the same ones he and Elara had seen upon arriving in Stonebridge. "Yeah," he confirmed. "We went to see Vita, as you suggested. She¡¯s a good woman."

    "That she is," Merl agreed with a nod. He adjusted the metal he was working on, then glanced back at them. "Could she help you with that trinket you showed me?"

    Del¡¯s tone turned solemn. "Yeah. You were right to send us her way. It belonged to Lucas, her apprentice."

    Merl set down his hammer and glanced at the heating metal before pulling a cloth from his belt to wipe the sweat from his face. He sighed, rubbing his forehead.

    "I thought it might be," he muttered. "That symbol on it is the one they use in their trade. It wasn¡¯t hers, so unless it belonged to a complete stranger, it had to be Lucas¡¯."If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    He exhaled heavily, pulled the glowing metal from the forge, and gave it a couple of disheartened taps before plunging it into a trough of water. Steam hissed as the heat met the cool liquid, and the bar darkened instantly. With little care, he tossed it onto a pile of discarded scrap.

    "Let me wash up," he said grimly. "Then we can grab a beer at Jake¡¯s place. I need one."

    Without waiting for a response, he stepped outside to the large rain barrel beside the smithy. He stripped off his leather apron and sweat-dampened shirt before dunking his head fully into the water. Emerging with a spray, he shook his head like a dog, sending droplets scattering into the dirt. He grabbed a cloth hanging from a nearby nail and scrubbed his face, hands, and chest before rinsing off once more.

    Disappearing through a side door, he returned minutes later dressed in fresh clothes, his expression set.

    "Right," he declared. "Let¡¯s go drink one for Lucas."

    Without another word, he marched towards the centre of town, his boots striking the packed earth with purpose.

    The Cock and Ball was quiet, but as Del, Elara, and Merl stepped inside, heads turned, the weight of curiosity thick in the air. Behind the bar, Jake glanced up, a silent question already forming in his eyes.

    Jake¡¯s brows drew together as he set down the mug he had been polishing. "Bit early to close the forge, Merl. Are you all right?" His tone carried concern as he glanced between Merl and the two travellers at his side, offering Del and Elara a brief nod before shifting his full attention to his friend.

    Merl exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face as though trying to wipe away the weight of the day. "Bring me a pitcher of your strongest, Jake, and serve up to the others here as well."

    The request was met with a moment¡¯s hesitation¡ªJake¡¯s concern deepening¡ªbut he nodded and moved quickly, recognising that something serious was afoot. He filled a large jug with the rich, dark ale the inn was known for and poured the first generous tankard, pressing it into Merl¡¯s waiting hand.

    Merl lifted the drink, his voice carrying across the room before anyone had the chance to question him. "I learned today that one of ours met his end up in the high woods at the hands of some bandit group."

    The idle conversation in the inn died almost instantly. The murmur of voices, the occasional clink of mugs¡ªeverything stilled. The quiet that followed was thick, waiting.

    "Lucas, Vita¡¯s apprentice," Merl continued, his voice heavy, "was slain while out and about. Just doing his work, same as always. A group of thugs ended his life before it had really begun."

    A sombre ripple passed through the gathered patrons. Heads turned, hands gripped tankards a little tighter. Some faces were blank with quiet disbelief; others darkened with the anger that came from losing one of their own.

    Merl gestured to Del and Elara. "These two travellers came across the scene. They couldn¡¯t save poor Lucas, but they took down the ones responsible and brought word back to Vita."

    Another hush settled over the room. The weight of that news pressed against every chest, sinking in.

    Merl raised his mug higher. "To Lucas¡¯s memory," he declared. "Drink, and spread word."

    A chorus of voices joined him, though muted by grief. "To Lucas."

    Mugs lifted, heads bowed slightly in respect before the first swallows of ale were taken. The taste was smooth, slightly bitter with a hint of malt, its warmth spreading through Del¡¯s chest as he drank.

    As the initial wave of reaction passed, murmured conversations resumed, lower in tone, tinged with sadness. Groups at nearby tables leaned in, speaking in hushed voices¡ªsome exchanging theories, others simply reflecting on what they¡¯d just learned.

    Merl exhaled heavily, then gestured for Del and Elara to follow as he made his way towards a table near the far end of the room. They settled into the chairs, the wooden seats worn smooth from years of use. Jake joined them, placing the full jug of ale on the table with a dull thud before pouring for each of them.

    For a time, no one spoke. The only sounds were the distant hum of conversation and the occasional crackle from the hearth, the firelight throwing flickering shadows across the stone walls.

    Merl stared at his drink, fingers idly tracing the rim of his tankard before he finally muttered, "The lad deserved better than what he got."

    No one disagreed.

    Jake was the first to break the silence, shifting his gaze towards Del. "What are your plans now?" he asked. "You¡¯re welcome to stay, but things are a little tense around here just now."

    His attention flicked briefly to Elara before he added, "And not just because of the old elf history thing."

    "Though that doesn¡¯t help," Merl put in, taking another long swallow of ale.

    Del sighed, setting his own drink down. "We¡¯ve both noticed the tension. But what¡¯s with that prejudice, anyway? From what I understand, all that stuff happened centuries ago."

    Merl sighed and exchanged a look with Jake, something unspoken passing between them before the innkeeper gave a slow nod.

    "A few months back," Jake said, leaning forward slightly, "people started to disappear. No word, no signs of struggle¡ªjust gone. Rumours started cropping up, and one of them brought back talk of the old elven slaver raids."

    Merl let out a huff, shaking his head slightly. "Stonebridge sits right along some of the old routes those raids took. I don¡¯t know who started the elf talk, but with the history of this place, it caught on fast."

    Elara frowned, her fingers tightening slightly around her mug. "And no one thought to question whether those stories were just old ghosts?"

    Jake spread his hands. "Of course we questioned it, but fear doesn¡¯t listen to reason, does it?" He took a sip of his ale before continuing. "Thing is, the disappearances don¡¯t make much sense. A couple of the missing folk were working very close to Stonebridge. If it was bandits, we should¡¯ve seen something. Heard something."

    "Breeda vanished from her very bed," Merl added darkly, his voice lowering. "That wouldn¡¯t be bandits."

    Elara¡¯s frown deepened. "How many have gone missing?"

    Jake hesitated for a moment before answering. "Three¡ªmaybe four over the past couple of months. Paolo¡¯s been keeping track. He¡¯s the one organising search efforts, but¡­" He shook his head. "No one''s found a trace."

    "Five," Merl muttered, staring down into his drink. "If you count poor Lucas."

    A heavy silence followed, the implications hanging over them like a storm cloud.

    Del leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. "We were planning on seeing Paolo anyway," he said at last. "Vita suggested we speak with him."

    He took another measured sip of ale, considering the weight of everything they¡¯d learned. "We¡¯ll look him up tomorrow," he continued. "And if he hasn¡¯t heard by then, we¡¯ll let him know about Lucas."

    Merl nodded solemnly, but his expression remained grim.

 Chapter 33 â€“ Food and Anecdotes

    The conversation drifted toward more general topics, the weight of earlier discussions settling into the background. Merl leaned back in his chair, the tension in his posture easing as he spoke of life in Stonebridge. He had arrived as a journeyman smith, seeking respite from the relentless pace of city life and the hardships of constant travel. The village had suited him well¡ªquieter, steadier, without the endless demands and urgency of the forge where he had trained.

    "When I got here, the place had been without a smith for over a year," he said, absentmindedly rolling his tankard between calloused fingers. "The old master passed, and no one had come to take his place. Paolo¡¯s father¡ªhe was the elder at the time¡ªoffered me the use of the forge, said I could set up proper if I wanted."

    He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. "Wasn¡¯t much at first, mind you. The place was near falling in on itself. Roof leaked something fierce, and the hearth had more cracks than solid stone. Tools rusting where they stood, an anvil that looked like it hadn¡¯t been struck in aeons. Took me the better part of a month just to make it fit for work."

    Merl took a sip of ale, the memory settling over him with a faint nostalgia. "I¡¯ll never forget the first proper job I did here¡ªold farmer by the name of Rurik came in, looking sceptical as anything. Said he needed a plough blade reforged, but he wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d be up to scratch. I didn¡¯t blame him; losing their last smith had left folk cautious, and I was still half a stranger."

    He smirked slightly, shaking his head. "Well, I worked through the night on that blade. Got it done just as dawn was breaking. Rurik came back expecting to find me still hammering away, but there it was¡ªclean, sharp, stronger than before. He tested the edge with his thumb, gave me a grunt, then walked off without a word. Next day, half the village turned up needing something fixed."

    He let out a contented sigh. "Been here almost twenty years now. Steady work with little fuss or stress, just the way I like it."

    Elara smiled slightly, clearly understanding the appeal of a life built on quiet routine. She shared stories of her own upbringing in her Hometree, painting vivid pictures of the sprawling, elevated dwellings that wove through the ancient boughs. She spoke of the decision that had led her to leave¡ªa yearning to learn, to seek out a master who could teach her more. This naturally led to a dramatic retelling of her capture by goblins and the unlikely rescue that had followed.

    Jake, who had returned to tending the bar, was evidently still listening. At the mention of goblins, he let out a low whistle, shaking his head as he wiped down a mug. "Those green vermin are a plague on civilised folk," he muttered, his voice edged with distaste. His grip on the mug tightened slightly, knuckles whitening as though the mere thought of them stirred some deep-seated resentment. "Normally don¡¯t see ¡®em this far down from the High Hills, though."

    Merl frowned, setting his tankard down with a quiet thunk. "Aye, and let¡¯s hope it stays that way. Wasn¡¯t too many years back we had a real problem with ¡®em sneaking into outlying farms. They¡¯d steal livestock, ruin stores, set fires for no reason but their own twisted amusement." He exhaled sharply. "We ran ¡®em off eventually, but it took work. If they¡¯re back, even just a few, it¡¯s still too many."

    Elara shifted slightly in her seat, her fingers brushing idly over the rim of her mug. "It was only a small group," she admitted, though her voice carried less certainty than before. "A scouting or hunting party, maybe? They might have strayed further than usual."

    Jake didn¡¯t look convinced. "Still not good," Merl said, brow furrowing deeper. "We¡¯ll need to send word up the river to the lumber camp. Let the boys know to keep an eye out."

    A pause hung between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

    Del exchanged a glance with Elara, recognising the subtle stiffness in her posture, the way her fingers tightened just slightly around her drink. He knew neither of them wanted to dwell on the subject, but something about this discussion felt¡­ unfinished.

    Goblins weren¡¯t just a nuisance. They were opportunists, emboldened by weakness, drawn to places where they sensed vulnerability.

    And something had made them bold enough to wander this far from their usual haunts.

    At another question from Merl, Del shifted to his own story. He spoke of his homeland¡ªhis island home of Starnd¡ªand the insular life he had known there.

    "I never learned much about the mainland," he admitted, taking a sip of ale. "Everything back home is self-contained, its own little world. I think I¡¯m the first from my community to travel to Gondowa in a long time." He gave a small, wry smile. "It¡¯s been very educational so far."

    Merl let out a short chuckle. "Aye, I¡¯d imagine so. This land teaches plenty¡ªwhether you want it to or not."

    The conversation was interrupted as the door to the kitchen swung open, and a round-faced woman with rosy cheeks and deep red hair strode into the room. Her hair was tied up in a tight bun, and she wore a neat apron, a large ladle in hand like a sceptre of authority.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Merl tipped his chin toward her. "Looks like Donna¡¯s finished dinner."

    Jake, upon spotting her, wasted no time in hurrying over to give her a quick peck on the cheek. Without a word, he ducked through the doorway she had emerged from and returned moments later, arms laden with steaming platters. The rich aroma of hearty meat stew filled the air, mingling with the warm scent of freshly baked bread.

    He set bowls before them¡ªthick, earthenware dishes filled to the brim with tender chunks of meat, root vegetables softened to perfection, and a broth so deep and fragrant it carried the very essence of slow-cooked goodness. The bread, golden-crusted and still warm from the oven, sat beside each serving, ready to soak up every last drop.

    Del took the first spoonful, letting the flavours settle on his tongue. Rich, savoury meat, the slight sweetness of carrots, the depth of well-seasoned stock¡ªit was as good as he had heard.

    ¡®The stories we heard are true, then,¡¯ he thought as he savoured another bite.

    A soft pressure against his leg was followed by a familiar mental nudge, nudging the edge of his thoughts.

    ¡®I guess you want yours too, then?¡¯ Del mused.

    A ripple of contented anticipation flowed back through their link.

    ¡®Smells good¡¯

    With a chuckle, he called Jake over. "Can I get a small bowl for my little terror, please?" He gestured to the purring ball of fluff currently rubbing insistently against his boot.

    Jake barked a laugh and reached down, scratching Misty lightly behind the ears. "Where¡¯d you come from, then?" he asked as she arched into his touch. "Didn¡¯t see you earlier."

    "She always manages to magically appear when it¡¯s food time," Del quipped.

    With a final chuckle, Jake headed off, soon returning with two bowls¡ªone filled with generous scraps of meat from the stew, the other with fresh water.

    Misty gave a soft, appreciative mew before tucking in, tail flicking in pure contentment.

    After dinner, Merl leaned back in his chair, let out a satisfied belch, and stretched his arms with a lazy groan. "Right, I¡¯m off," he declared, pushing himself to his feet. "See you both tomorrow."

    He gave a brief nod before making his way toward the door, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floorboards. As he stepped outside, the cool night air rushed in briefly before the door swung shut behind him.

    Del and Elara remained a little longer, finishing the last of their drinks before rising to thank Jake for his hospitality. The innkeeper waved them off with a casual smile, already busy wiping down the bar and preparing for the night¡¯s slower hours.

    Upstairs, their room welcomed them with a blanket of warmth, the heat from the hearth below seeping up through the floorboards. The walls, made of sturdy timber, carried the faint, lingering scent of spiced stew and old woodsmoke, blending with the clean crispness of fresh linen. A wall-mounted lantern cast a soft, flickering glow, its flame dancing with every slight draft, painting long shadows across the modest furnishings.

    The room was simple but well-kept, speaking of practical comfort rather than luxury. Against one wall stood a sturdy chest of drawers, its dark wood polished smooth from years of use, its brass handles dulled by time. Opposite, a large copper bath sat ready, its curved edges catching the lantern light in a dull sheen, the surface showing faint water stains from past use. Beside it, a chamber pot was discreetly tucked away, a necessary reminder of village life.

    But it was the bed that caught Del¡¯s attention.

    Large, inviting, made up with crisp sheets freshly turned down, but still¡ªonly one.

    He cleared his throat. "Perhaps I should get another room," he mused, eyeing the bed as though it might somehow resolve the situation on its own.

    Elara looked at him, puzzled. "What?" She tilted her head, golden strands of hair catching the lantern¡¯s glow. "We¡¯ve shared the same sleep space since you rescued me¡ªhow is this any different?"

    Before he could think of an answer, she shrugged off her clothes without hesitation, slipping under the covers with ease. Her movements were unbothered, familiar, practical, as though this was nothing unusual¡ªjust another night, another resting place. "Besides," she added, nestling deeper into the warmth, "this is far more comfortable than a pile of damp leaves in a cave."

    Del hesitated. He couldn¡¯t exactly argue with that logic.

    With a mental sigh, he peeled off his outer layers, the fabric rough beneath his fingers as he pulled away the weight of the day. The air was cooler against his skin as he stripped down to his boxers, but the warmth of the bed was already calling.

    He climbed in beside her, keeping a deliberate space between them, the scent of her subtle but present, something light and natural¡ªa mix of forest air and faint herbal notes, reminders of the past weeks spent together.

    ¡®Just go to sleep, Del,¡¯ he told himself firmly. ¡®It doesn¡¯t matter that there¡¯s a beautiful, naked woman sharing the bed with you. Just. Go. To. Sleep.¡¯

    Elara shifted slightly beside him, her body settling deeper into the mattress. "Del," she murmured, her voice softer in the stillness of the room. "Thank you for rescuing me."

    Before he could respond, her breathing evened out, gentle and steady, slipping into the quiet rhythm of sleep.

    Just as Del began to relax, a sudden thump landed beside him, the unexpected weight pressing against his ribs. A second later, a familiar kneading motion began¡ªa set of paws working his side with calculated precision before curling into a warm ball. Misty, having claimed her rightful place in the bed.

    A quiet, contented purr vibrated against his ribs.

    Del sighed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The weight of exhaustion settled over him like a heavy, familiar cloak. The stress of the past days, the unrelenting tension that had clung to his shoulders, began to melt into the warmth of the bed, the steadiness of Elara¡¯s breathing, the rhythmic hum of Misty¡¯s purrs.

    Somewhere below, the fire in the hearth crackled softly, its embers still glowing faintly, sending the occasional snap of settling wood into the quiet of the night. The scent of burned oak and the distant murmur of voices from the inn¡¯s lower floor felt distant now, fading into the edges of his mind.

    With one last deep breath, he let his eyes drift shut, sinking into the comfort of the moment, and finally¡ªinto sleep.

 Chapter 34 â€“ Fresh bread and butter

    Del woke early, overheated, and tangled in a mess of limbs, sheets, and a face full of warm ginger fur. Misty had, as always, claimed her territory in the most inconvenient position¡ªpressed against his cheek, her body radiating heat like a living stove. He smacked his lips, grimacing at the unpleasant tackiness in his mouth as he pried his tongue from the roof of it.

    ¡®I miss toothpaste,¡¯ he thought sourly. The simple pleasure of a fresh, minty mouth. ¡®It¡¯s the little things that matter most.¡¯

    Carefully, he worked himself free, easing out from between Elara¡¯s sleep-heavy form, the twisted sheets, and the dead weight of the cat sprawled across him. The cooler air beyond the bed was a welcome relief against his overheated skin. He padded over to the chest of drawers, pouring himself a glass of water from the jug resting there. The liquid was slightly stale from sitting overnight, but it was cool and wet, and that was good enough.

    Still groggy, he pulled on his trousers, determined to maintain what little dignity he could muster before heading out into the corridor towards the shared washroom. The timber floor was smooth and slightly cool beneath his bare feet, the scent of aged wood and old hearth smoke lingering in the air.

    A few minutes later, as he towelled his damp hair dry, he made his way back into the room. The scent of cooking had begun to drift up from downstairs¡ªrich, savoury, thick with the promise of frying bacon and fresh bread. Elara was awake now, sitting up in bed, her fingers idly teasing Misty¡¯s belly as the cat stretched luxuriously beneath her touch, purring in unrestrained delight.

    "Morning," Del muttered, voice rough with sleep as he yanked his shirt over his head. He did his best not to dwell too long on the view Elara unintentionally provided¡ªher golden hair tousled from sleep, the naked curve of her breasts catching the soft glow of morning light filtering through the window.

    ¡®So shoot me for being human,¡¯ he grumbled inwardly. ¡®Del, you are too old for this shit.¡¯

    "I¡¯m heading down to see what¡¯s for breakfast," he said, keeping his tone casual. "Join me when you¡¯re finished playing?"

    Elara smirked but nodded, beginning the process of detangling her hand from Misty¡¯s playful swipes as Del left the room.

    Downstairs, the inn had settled into the gentle hum of early morning activity. The few other overnight guests had already claimed tables, quietly eating or murmuring in low conversation. The clatter of plates and the occasional laugh punctuated the warmth of the tavern¡¯s interior. Donna was already busy, moving between tables with the effortless efficiency of someone who had been running an inn longer than some people had been alive.

    She caught sight of him and tipped her chin towards an empty table. "Breakfast for just you, or are another one and the little bit joining?" she asked, amusement flickering in her eyes.

    Del gave a half-smile. "They¡¯ll be down soon," he confirmed, stretching slightly. "Whatever you¡¯ve got cooking smells divine."

    It wasn¡¯t long before Elara joined him, and soon enough, steaming plates were placed before them¡ªcrispy, well-cooked bacon, soft scrambled eggs, and thick slices of fresh bread slathered with butter. Misty, perched on the chair beside them, was happily working her way through a plate of fatty meat scraps set aside just for her.

    Between mouthfuls, Del and Elara discussed their plans for the day. Supplies came first¡ªboth of them were in dire need of proper clothes and equipment. After that, they¡¯d make their way to the elder¡¯s house and see what Paolo had to say about Lucas, the goblins, and whatever mess they had found themselves tangled in.

    The market was already lively by the time they arrived. Stalls lined the main street, filled with an array of goods¡ªfrom fresh produce and woven baskets to rough-spun clothing and hand-forged tools. The scent of spices, leather, and warm bread mingled with the crisp morning air, and the low murmur of vendors calling out their wares filled the space with a steady rhythm of commerce.

    Their first stop was a clothing stall, where Del quickly picked out a new set of heavy-duty trousers, sturdy shirts, and a few undergarments to replace his increasingly battered attire. Elara, still dressed in the oversized shirt she had borrowed from him when they first met, finally had the chance to find a proper outfit. She wasted no time selecting a practical tunic, a warm cloak, and, most importantly, a good pair of leather boots to replace her bare feet.

    The costs were surprisingly low¡ªanother advantage of rural life. The supply of copper and silver they carried was more than enough to cover their needs.

    From there, they found a weapons stall, where they purchased a second bow and a quiver of arrows. Elara opted to keep the smaller goblin bow, leaving Del to take the larger one for himself.

    At the leatherworkers, they acquired a toughened hide jerkin for Elara, while Del handed over the one he had taken from the bandits for repairs. As part of the deal, they sold off the various weapons and trinkets looted from those unfortunate enough to have chosen them as prey.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    A flicker of guilt stirred in the back of Del¡¯s mind¡ªbrief, fleeting. But he shoved it aside with a pragmatic shrug. If it hadn¡¯t been them, it would have been the other way around, and he doubted their attackers would have given the same passing thought to sentimentality.

    As they made their way back through the market, Del spotted Jake loading a cart with fresh meat from the butcher. He raised a hand in greeting, and Jake waved back before hefting another bundle onto the cart.

    "Looks like some kind of strange not-deer is on the menu tonight," Del murmured to Elara, eyeing the unfamiliar cuts of meat being loaded.

    She gave a small laugh, shaking her head. "I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll taste fine. Better than dried rations, at least."

    With their purchases secured and a clearer plan for the day, they made their way towards the elder¡¯s house, the weight of supplies on their shoulders and the ever-present sense that, for all the quiet routine of the morning, trouble still lingered just beneath the surface.

    ¡®You really need to learn more about the local plant and animal life,¡¯ Del chided himself as they made their way back towards the inn. The thought lingered, solidifying into a quiet resolution¡ªhe¡¯d start using Elara¡¯s knowledge to broaden his own. She had spent her life surrounded by nature, after all. It was time to start paying more attention.

    Once inside, they wasted no time changing into fresh clothes. The relief was immediate¡ªgone were the stiff, bloodstained, and travel-worn garments, replaced with clean, well-fitted clothing that didn¡¯t carry the weight of the past days¡¯ grime. The fabric felt lighter, easier against his skin, free from the cloying scent of sweat and dried blood.

    Back downstairs, Del caught Donna on her way between tables. "Are these salvageable, or should I just toss them?" he asked, nodding towards the bundle of old clothing he had left near the kitchen entrance.

    She let out a hearty laugh, already shaking her head. "I¡¯ll see them right," she promised. "Might take some work, but I¡¯ll have them back in your room before supper."

    "Appreciate it," Del said, grateful he wouldn¡¯t have to worry about replacing absolutely everything. With that sorted, he and Elara stepped out into the morning sun, making their way across the town square.

    Behind the bustling market, standing with an air of quiet authority, was the elder¡¯s house¡ªan imposing structure of solid timber and weathered stone. It was larger than the surrounding buildings, but not ostentatious. There was no unnecessary ornamentation, no attempt to impress. Instead, it exuded the same quiet practicality that defined much of Stonebridge¡ªa building designed to serve its purpose rather than to impress visitors.

    The door stood open, and inside, the reception area was a well-ordered collection of desks, shelves stacked with ledgers, and the steady scratch of quills on parchment. Several functionaries were already at work, their heads bent over documents, murmuring quietly as they sorted through the business of the day.

    One of them, a young woman with keen eyes and ink-stained fingers, looked up with a polite smile. "Can I help you?"

    "We¡¯re here to see Paolo," Del said.

    She gave a small nod, setting aside her quill before disappearing into an adjoining room. "Wait here a moment," she called over her shoulder.

    Del took the opportunity to glance around, absorbing the details of the space. The place smelled of old parchment, beeswax polish, and faintly of the ink drying on freshly written documents. It was orderly, efficient¡ªclearly the nerve centre of the village¡¯s affairs.

    The wait wasn¡¯t long. A door opened, and a portly man emerged, stepping forward with an air of authority tempered by approachability. He was about Del¡¯s age, his neatly cropped hair framed by thick mutton chops. A gold chain rested against his shirt, standing in contrast to the rolled-up sleeves and the dark smudges of ink on his fingers¡ªa man equally comfortable behind a desk as he was out in the village managing affairs directly.

    He offered a firm handshake, his smile one of polite curiosity. "Welcome to Stonebridge. Always nice to meet new faces." He studied them briefly, one brow lifting in mild amusement. "Visiting our village or are you planning to stay a while?"

    "Not moving in¡ªno plans to, anyway," Del replied with a faint smirk. "But we do have some things we need to discuss with you."

    Paolo¡¯s brow furrowed slightly before clearing, understanding settling into his expression. "Ah. You must be the ones who brought news about Lucas."

    At their nods, he gestured for them to follow, leading them deeper into the building and into a modest but well-kept office. The space was warm and functional¡ªbookshelves lined the walls, filled with ledgers and documents bound in well-worn leather. A large, heavy desk sat to one side, cluttered but organised, while a collection of comfortable chairs surrounded a central table, clearly meant for discussions rather than mere formality.

    Paolo motioned to the chairs. "Please, sit."

    Once they were settled, Del exhaled slightly. "Yes, that was us," he confirmed. "I came across him after an ambush in the high woods. Some bandits attacked me, and when I fought them off, I found they¡¯d already killed him." He sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "He was dead when I got there."

    Paolo nodded solemnly. "You still brought us word, and that was good of you. Bandits and robbers have been getting bolder lately." He leaned back slightly, expression darkening. "The towns around Stenfield have reinforced their watch, but the ones who got away seem to have made their way into rural areas like ours."

    Del exchanged a glance with Elara before tilting his head. "Merl mentioned there have been more local problems?"

    Paolo let out a slow breath, nodding. "Times are troubling," he admitted. "People disappearing, seemingly at random. The whole village is on edge."

    Elara leaned forward slightly, her brows drawing together. "Do you have any idea who¡ªor what¡ªis behind it?"

    Paolo¡¯s expression darkened, his fingers tapping idly against the armrest of his chair. "I wish I did," he said grimly. "There are rumours, plenty of them. But nothing solid¡ªno real truth we can figure out."

    A quiet tension settled over the room, the weight of uncertainty hanging in the air. Whatever was happening in Stonebridge, it was more than just bad luck or scattered misfortunes. And from the look in Paolo¡¯s eyes, Del knew they weren¡¯t the only ones who felt it.

 Chapter 35 â€“ A quest

    Paolo pushed himself to his feet and began to pace, his movements restless, his agitation seeping into every word. "So far, four people have simply vanished in just over a month." His jaw tightened. "I don¡¯t include Lucas¡ªhis was an unfortunate, but unrelated loss."

    He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his neatly combed hair, making it momentarily dishevelled before smoothing it back down. "Three of them were men, all taken while out working at dusk. Shawn was tending his cows, Will was gathering logs for his fire, and Silas¡ªSilas was out foraging for tindergrubs, same as he did every evening. They were all seen by others in the fields or woods, going about their usual business, but none of them made it home for supper."

    His pacing became more erratic, his voice edged with frustration. "And then, Breeda. She didn¡¯t open her stall at the market last week. That alone was strange¡ªshe¡¯s never missed a day¡¯s trade in her life. One of the local boys, thinking she might be ill, went to check on her. He found her back door standing open."

    Paolo halted, turning to face them, his expression troubled. "But the house was empty. Nothing disturbed, nothing stolen¡ªjust¡­ empty."

    He hesitated, then sat down heavily, the weight of his worry pressing down on his shoulders. "I wish that were the worst of it," he admitted.

    Del frowned. "There¡¯s more?"

    Paolo nodded, rubbing a hand across his face. "There¡¯s a feeling in the village now. A change. People are growing wary. At first, we all assumed there must be a reason, a logical one. But when you lose four people¡ªstrong, capable folk¡ªwith not a single trace, no sign of a struggle, no clues, people start talking."

    He gestured vaguely toward the window. "Some of the older folk whisper about curses, bad omens. They say it started with the wolves going silent¡ª" He paused, glancing at them, measuring their reactions. "We used to hear them at night, howling beyond the fields. Even when you couldn¡¯t see them, you knew they were there. But over the past few weeks¡­ nothing."

    A faint unease settled over Del. He exchanged a glance with Elara.

    "Silence can be worse than sound," she murmured.

    Paolo nodded grimly. "A few have taken it as a sign to leave. Silas¡¯ brother packed up and left three nights ago. Didn¡¯t even wait for the morning¡ªjust left everything but what he could carry and went south. His wife said he woke up in the night, panicked, swearing he¡¯d seen something moving outside. Said it was watching the house. She thought he¡¯d been dreaming, but¡­ he wouldn¡¯t stay to find out."

    The room felt colder, though the fire still burned in the hearth.

    Del leaned forward, fingers steepled. "So what are the theories? What¡¯s being whispered in corners?"

    Paolo let out a slow breath, rubbing at his temples as though warding off an impending headache. "The usual nonsense¡ªelves," he said with a glance towards Elara, a flicker of apology in his eyes. "Witches. Fell beasts from the old stories." He let out a dry, humourless chuckle. "But nothing that stands up to scrutiny. No tracks, no signs of forced entry. No blood. Just¡­ gone."

    His fingers tightened around the armrest of his chair, knuckles whitening. "Elves haven¡¯t been a threat in generations¡ªthese days, the old stories are more folklore than reality, used to frighten misbehaving children. Witches?" He shook his head. "The last heaving was decades ago, and even then, most so-called witches were little more than hedge mages and herbalists. Hardly the baby-stealing hags of legend." He hesitated, then muttered, "To be frank, I¡¯d trust a witch before I¡¯d trust a wizard. At least you know where you stand with them."

    Elara¡¯s gaze was sharp, her mind clearly working through the problem. "What about lesser sentients? Hobs? Goblins?"

    Paolo spread his hands, his frustration evident. "No tracks. Nothing." His voice was tight, controlled, but there was a weariness creeping into the edges. "Some of the more intelligent ones might know how to erase their prints, but even then, there would be something¡ªa struggle, overturned earth, signs of resistance. But there¡¯s nothing. Shawn, Will, Silas¡ªthey weren¡¯t weak men, Del. They would have fought. And Breeda?" He shook his head, his mouth tightening. "Her house was undisturbed. No sign of a forced entry. No sign of anything."

    His shoulders slumped slightly, the helplessness clear in his eyes. "I will be completely honest¡ªI am at a loss. I don¡¯t know where to look next. And the village is starting to feel it. Fear spreads fast, especially when the unknown is involved."

    Del rubbed his temples, his own unease settling into his gut like a stone. ¡®Where¡¯s Sherlock when you need him, Del?¡¯ The problem gnawed at him, an itch at the back of his mind he couldn¡¯t quite scratch. The more Paolo spoke, the more unnatural it seemed.

    With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair. "I¡¯m not sure how long we¡¯ll be staying," he admitted. "We¡¯re resting up before heading to Stenfield. But while we¡¯re here, we can keep our eyes open. Maybe an outsider¡¯s perspective will spot something that¡¯s been overlooked."

    Paolo looked genuinely grateful, though a flicker of guilt passed over his face. "It¡¯s too much to ask, but¡­ perhaps a fresh pair of eyes will see what we cannot."

    A cold shiver ran through Del as something in the back of his mind stirred¡ªan instinct, a sense that this was bigger than it seemed.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    [You have been offered a quest ¨C Solve the mystery of Stonebridge: Accept Yes : No]

    The message hovered in Del¡¯s vision, faintly glowing, its translucent edges shimmering as if waiting for his answer. Beyond it, he saw Paolo watching them, expectation warring with the weight of concern in his expression. He turned his gaze to Elara. She met his eyes and gave him a small, firm nod.

    Del hesitated for the briefest of moments, fingers hovering over the invisible selection, the weight of commitment settling over him. This wasn¡¯t a casual favour; it was stepping into something unknown, something that had already swallowed four people without a trace. But backing away wasn¡¯t an option¡ªnot with the way Paolo was looking at them, not with the tension simmering just beneath the surface of this town.

    Yes.

    A faint pulse of confirmation flickered in his vision before the message vanished.

    Elara exhaled, shifting slightly before speaking, her voice steady, though there was a flicker of uncertainty beneath her usual confidence. "As Del said, we might not be here long," she began, rolling her shoulders as if settling into the decision. "I need to reach the city to find a mage trainer, but¡­" She turned her attention fully to the elder, her golden hair catching the lamplight as she straightened her posture. Determination was written in every line of her face, and for a moment, the warmth of it almost made Del forget that she had very nearly been one of those who disappeared.

    "While we¡¯re here, we¡¯ll keep a lookout," she continued. "If we find anything, you¡¯ll be the first to know." A faint smile tugged at her lips, a flash of wry amusement breaking through the tension. "And at the very least, maybe I can ease some of the fear my kind seem to stir in your people."

    A flicker of relief crossed Paolo¡¯s features. The tightness in his shoulders eased, and some of the stress etched into his face seemed to lighten, if only a little. But Del still caught the shadow behind his eyes, the wariness of a man who had spent too many nights waiting for another disappearance, another name to add to the growing list.

    The shift in the conversation was subtle but noticeable. The air felt a little less oppressive, the heavy weight of missing people and unanswered questions momentarily lifted by the simple act of camaraderie. The tension that had settled over the room loosened as Del and Elara recounted their journey to Stonebridge. They chose their words carefully, skipping over certain events¡ªparticularly their¡­ creative interpretation of river law on their way here. But they painted a broad picture of what they had encountered in the High Woods, offering the elder a clearer view of the growing dangers beyond the village¡¯s borders.

    Paolo nodded grimly at their mention of goblins. "A problem this early in the season," he murmured, rubbing his chin. "They usually keep to themselves until later in the year. If they¡¯re ranging this far south already¡­" He sighed, his expression darkening for a brief moment before, unexpectedly, he let out a hearty chuckle, slapping his thigh.

    Elara and Del exchanged a glance, and then he realised what had sparked the shift¡ªPaolo was grinning at the memory of Elara¡¯s rescue.

    "By the stars, that¡¯s a tale," the elder said, still chuckling. "Straight out of some old fireside story¡ªexcept you lived it." He shook his head. "Goblins outsmarted by their own arrogance¡­ You should tell that one in the tavern sometime. I imagine it¡¯d go down well over a few pints."

    Elara smirked. "I do like a good audience."

    Encouraged, Del found himself recounting more about his past, telling Paolo of life on the Isle of Starnd¡ªof the isolation, the self-sufficiency, the way the mainland had always been a distant thing, an idea rather than a place. As he spoke, he saw a flicker of something in Paolo¡¯s expression¡ªnot quite recognition, but a quiet curiosity, the mind of a man who was always gathering pieces of information, even if he didn¡¯t yet know what they meant.

    Paolo listened with interest, though he eventually admitted, "I¡¯ve not heard of it, but there are plenty of small communities scattered across the seas off Gondowa. Not surprising that some stay unknown."

    Elara, in turn, spoke of her journey¡ªher search for a mentor in nature magic, the drive that had led her to leave her home, the path that had ultimately landed her in a goblin¡¯s cage. As she spoke, Paolo nodded along, listening with quiet respect.

    By the time the conversation wound down, the weight of their earlier discussion hadn¡¯t entirely disappeared, but it had shifted¡ªeased, if only slightly, by shared words and the simple comfort of understanding.

    But just as they were about to rise, Paolo hesitated. His fingers drummed against the armrest of his chair, a faint crease forming between his brows.

    "There is one last thing," he said slowly.

    Del felt himself tense instinctively. "Go on."

    Paolo hesitated, as if debating whether to speak. Then, with a quiet exhale, he reached into the desk drawer beside him, pulling out a folded piece of parchment. The edges were slightly crumpled, as though it had been handled too often, passed between too many unsure hands.

    "This was found near where Silas went missing," he said, unfolding it and laying it flat on the table. "We don¡¯t know what to make of it."

    Del leaned in, frowning at the parchment. It wasn¡¯t a message or a letter¡ªat least, not in any writing he recognised. It was a series of crude symbols, drawn hastily, overlapping as if someone had scrawled them in a rush. Some looked almost like claw marks, others like twisted runes, unfamiliar and yet unsettling in a way he couldn¡¯t quite explain.

    Elara inhaled sharply beside him. "I¡¯ve seen something like this before," she murmured.

    Paolo¡¯s gaze snapped to hers. "Where?"

    She hesitated. "Not personally. But my mother had old texts¡ªrecords of signs left behind by things that¡­ don¡¯t want to be followed."

    A chill traced its way down Del¡¯s spine.

    He glanced at Paolo. "And no one in the village recognises it?"

    Paolo shook his head. "We¡¯ve asked everyone. No scholars here, of course, but even our oldest folk don¡¯t recall anything like it. And that worries me more than anything."

    Del exhaled slowly, pressing his palms together. "Alright. Looks like we have our first lead."

    Paolo studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "If you can make sense of this, it may be the key to understanding what we¡¯re dealing with."

    They stood, shaking hands once more, but the atmosphere had shifted again. Before, it had been a matter of logic, of unknown threats and missing people.

    Now, it was something more.

    Something unseen.

    As they stepped out into the fading daylight, the crisp scent of earth and distant cooking fires filling the evening air, Del exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.

    "I expect we may be here a touch longer than we first thought," he admitted, glancing at Elara with a hint of ruefulness. "I¡¯m sorry to be delaying your journey. If you want to push on ahead, I¡¯ll understand."

    Elara rolled her eyes before giving him a playful shove, then, to his surprise, looped her arm through his.

    "Don¡¯t think you¡¯re getting rid of me that easily," she laughed. "Besides¡ª" she tilted her head, her expression thoughtful "¡ªthis could be an interesting problem to solve."

    Del glanced down at her, lips quirking in faint amusement.

    He had a feeling interesting was an understatement.

 Chapter 36 â€“ Aspiring Sleuths

    Once outside, Del and Elara walked in quiet contemplation, their footsteps muffled by the packed earth of the village streets. The air was still, the last traces of sunlight casting long shadows as they mulled over the conversation with Paolo. The mystery of Stonebridge weighed heavily between them, silent but insistent.

    "For the three men," Del murmured, thinking aloud, "wild animals can¡¯t be entirely ruled out¡ª"

    Elara shot him a look. "Except they left no blood, no bodies. That¡¯s not how animals take prey."

    Del nodded, rubbing his chin. "I know. It doesn¡¯t sit right. And then there¡¯s Breeda."

    Her disappearance was the most perplexing. The three men had vanished while working outside, but Breeda had been taken from the middle of the village, inside her own home. No sign of a struggle, no witnesses.

    They had agreed to check her house first. Paolo had provided them with directions, as well as small wooden tokens carved with the elder¡¯s insignia¡ªsymbols of authority for those acting on village business. He had doubted they would need them, but if anyone questioned their presence, the tokens would smooth things over.

    Breeda¡¯s cottage stood in line with several others, nestled along a quiet lane. It was modest but well-kept, built from a mix of timber and plastered stone, its thatched roof slightly weathered but intact. The shutters were drawn, giving the house an air of abandonment, as if the very walls knew their occupant was never returning.

    Del tried the door, and it creaked open without resistance.

    The moment they stepped inside, the smell hit them, stale and musty. The air was thick, carrying the faint traces of a once-lived-in space now settling into disuse. A thin film of dust had begun to form over the furniture, the earliest signs of abandonment creeping into what had once been a home.

    Breeda¡¯s presence lingered in the details. A spinning wheel sat near the hearth, its spindle still threaded with half-woven cloth, as if she had intended to return to it at any moment. A small loom stood nearby, a piece of unfinished fabric stretched across it, waiting for hands that would never complete it. The kitchen was much the same¡ªtidy, ordered, but eerily untouched.

    Del peered into the pantry, wrinkling his nose at the smell of spoiled food. A small rustle of movement caught his attention, and a tiny mouse darted out from a nearly invisible hole in the stone wall, vanishing into the shadows.

    "Nothing out of place down here," he muttered. "Let¡¯s check upstairs."

    The stairs creaked under their weight as they ascended, the wood settling back into silence once they passed. The upper floor consisted of two bedrooms and a washroom. One room, clearly an unused guest space, was untouched by time. The other belonged to Breeda.

    The bedroom was simple but comfortable. The bed was large, its thick straw mattress plumped from use. A wooden chest sat at its foot, closed, while a wardrobe stood against the far wall. At first glance, there were no obvious signs of struggle¡ªjust an unmade bed, the covers half-thrown off as though she had risen in haste.

    But something was off.

    Del inhaled slowly. A strange, faint scent lingered in the air¡ªnot unpleasant, but unusual. He couldn¡¯t place it. His instincts prickled.

    "Do you smell that?" Elara asked, frowning.

    Del nodded. "I can¡¯t place it, though."

    She stepped closer to the bed, tilting her head as she inhaled deeply. "It¡¯s Listwort," she said after a moment.

    Del blinked. "That means nothing to me."

    "In small doses, it relaxes the body," she explained, glancing at him. "In large doses, it will knock you into a deep, dreamless sleep."

    Del¡¯s frown deepened. "So she was drugged."

    "Possibly. But there¡¯s no way to know if she used it herself or if someone else did."

    Something crunched underfoot as Elara stepped closer to the window. She crouched, brushing aside a few stray pieces of glass.

    "One of the panes is broken," she noted. "Small pieces scattered here, below the latch."

    Del rose from where he had been searching under the bed and stepped over to inspect it. The window had been pulled shut again, but the break was clear¡ªa jagged hole just beside the latch. Someone had reached through, unfastened it, and entered quietly.

    He narrowed his eyes at a few dark strands of fibre caught on a splinter of glass. "Looks like they wore dark clothing. Smart enough to avoid detection at night."

    The pieces were beginning to fit together. Whoever had taken Breeda had done so with planning. They had waited for the right moment, ensured she would not wake, and taken her without a sound.

    Del exhaled sharply, shaking his head. ¡®I am no detective,¡¯ he thought grimly. ¡®And where are forensics when you need them?¡¯ The frustration gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside. He had to work with what he had.

    They left the house, stepping back into the cool afternoon air. The village around them continued as normal¡ªpeople talking, carts rolling over cobbled paths, the scent of cooking fires drifting through the air¡ªbut it felt different now. The cottage had been undisturbed, but not abandoned. Someone had taken Breeda, and the method was disturbingly clean.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    Del sighed, glancing at Elara. "All we know is how it was done. No idea who or why."

    She nodded, her expression serious. "And we won¡¯t be able to check the work sites where the others vanished. Any traces of Listwort or anything else will be long gone."

    Del exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "One step at a time."

    What little they had found only deepened the mystery. The silence of the woods. The vanished men. Breeda taken without a sound, drugged into helplessness. The pieces weren¡¯t aligning yet, but the unease in Del¡¯s gut told him one thing¡ªwhatever had done this, it was still out there. Watching.

    And waiting.

    They spent the rest of the afternoon scouring the areas where the missing men had been working. The land stretched beyond the village, a patchwork of farmland, sparse woodland, and uneven terrain where the fields met the tree line. The shadows were beginning to lengthen, but the air remained heavy with the scent of damp earth and sun-warmed grass.

    As Paolo had told them, there were no obvious signs of a struggle¡ªno overturned tools, no broken ground where a fight might have taken place. Even in the softer earth near the tree line, nothing suggested a body had been dragged away. The silence of it all was unsettling. If something had taken these men, it had done so cleanly, without a trace.

    At the second site, however, Del spotted something. Caught on a thorn bush near where Will had last been seen, a small cluster of black fibres fluttered in the light breeze.

    Elara moved beside him, leaning in to examine them.

    "Same as the ones at Breeda¡¯s house," she murmured, plucking one free and rolling it between her fingers. "It¡¯s coarse. Possibly wool."

    Del exhaled. "So, it¡¯s looking more and more like the same person took all of them."

    Elara nodded grimly, pocketing the fibre. "Or, at the very least, someone involved was at both places."

    It was something¡ªtenuous, frustratingly small, but something nonetheless. The connections were beginning to thread together, even if the picture was still unclear.

    They moved on, checking the final site with equal care, but the results were the same. Nothing. No struggle, no signs of departure¡ªjust an empty space where a man had once stood.

    As they finished, Del turned to Elara with a weary sigh. "This is going to be harder than I first thought."

    She didn¡¯t argue, just met his gaze with the same frustration he felt gnawing in his gut.

    A soft rustling in the undergrowth made them both turn. A heartbeat later, Misty emerged from the bushes, her tail flicking in casual indifference as she padded up to Del. He felt her nudge his thoughts, a cool mental brush of curiosity.

    ¡®What are you doing?¡¯

    Del did his best to explain, sending vague impressions of the search, the missing people, the frustration of finding nothing. Misty, for her part, seemed entirely unimpressed.

    ¡®Two-legs are always fussing over something,¡¯ she commented, before turning and meandering back into the undergrowth, tail swishing lazily.

    Del watched her go with a shake of his head. "At least one of us is unbothered by all this."

    They were about to head back when Misty reappeared, this time carrying something in her mouth. She trotted up to Del and deposited a small, cloth-wrapped bundle at his feet before sitting down primly and beginning to wash her face with deliberate, meticulous movements. The picture of feline disinterest.

    Del crouched, glancing at Elara before carefully unwrapping the cloth. The scent hit him immediately¡ªsharp, herbal, with an underlying bitterness.

    Listwort.

    Elara inhaled sharply. "Where did you get this?"

    Misty gave him a slow blink, then resumed licking her paw.

    Del exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Well, that¡¯s another question added to the pile."

    He glanced at Elara. "Let¡¯s go see Vita next. Find out where this plant might be obtained around here."

    Elara nodded, rolling her shoulders as if shaking off the weight of frustration.

    Leaving the fields behind, they took the path leading toward Vita¡¯s house, which lay on the outskirts of the village. The hedge-lined trail was quiet, the distant hum of the village fading the further they walked. When they arrived, however, they found the place empty. The shutters were latched, and the door was firmly secured.

    Del knocked anyway, waiting a few beats before trying again. Silence.

    "Looks like we¡¯ll have to come back later," Elara murmured, stepping back.

    Del frowned at the closed door, something about the stillness making his instincts itch. But there was nothing for it¡ªthey would have to find another way to get information in the meantime.

    With the sun dipping toward the horizon, they made their way back toward the village. The exhaustion of the day was beginning to creep in, the unanswered questions sitting like stones in Del¡¯s mind.

    "It¡¯ll have to wait until morning," he admitted. "Right now, we need food."

    Elara smirked. "Finally, something we can solve."

    By the time they reached the Cock and Ball, the tavern had settled into the comfortable hum of evening trade. The scent of roasting meat filled the air, mingling with the deep, warm aroma of ale and the occasional burst of laughter from the regulars. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a golden glow over the wooden beams.

    Jake was behind the bar, wiping down a tankard as he nodded in greeting.

    They settled in, ordering food before Del turned to Jake. "Ever heard of Listwort?"

    Jake raised an eyebrow. "Sure. It¡¯s a strong relaxant. Knocks you out good if you use too much."

    "Does it grow locally?"

    Jake shook his head. "No. Vita keeps a stock, but it¡¯s not cheap. Has to be brought in from up north."

    Del exchanged a glance with Elara. ¡®She is definitely our next point of call,¡¯ he thought.

    He leaned on the counter. "Apart from the missing people, has anything else odd been happening around here?"

    Jake frowned, thinking it over. "Old Liam lost a cow last week. Just wandered off, never came back. And the dogs have been acting funny. Jittery. But that could just be them picking up on the tension in the village." He rubbed his chin. "Other than that¡­ nothing I can think of."

    Del filed that away. A missing cow wasn¡¯t much, but the dogs¡ªif animals were uneasy, that was often a sign of something deeper.

    Their food arrived¡ªthick cuts of roasted meat, golden potatoes crisped at the edges, and a generous serving of fresh bread. Del speared a bite and chewed thoughtfully.

    "Venison?" he asked, smirking slightly.

    Jake grinned. "You noticed, huh? Fresh from the butcher¡¯s stall today."

    Remembering her comment to Del at the market earlier. Elara chuckled. "Better than dried rations, at least."

    They ate, the warmth of the tavern settling into their bones, though the tension of the day still lingered at the edges of Del¡¯s thoughts. The mystery of Stonebridge wasn¡¯t going to solve itself overnight, and with every piece of the puzzle they uncovered, the picture only seemed to grow more complicated.

    After a few mugs of Jake¡¯s excellent ale, they finally called it a night, heading upstairs to the quiet comfort of their room.

    As Del lay back in bed, Misty curled up at his feet, her tail flicking once before settling.

    His thoughts drifted back to the fibres, the broken window, the scent of Listwort still lingering in his memory.

    The answers were out there.

    They just had to find them before someone else disappeared.

 Chapter 37 â€“ One plus one makes six

    The next morning, they set out early, the weight of unanswered questions pressing heavily on their shoulders. The air was crisp, cool from the lingering night chill, but the village was already stirring¡ªmarket traders setting up their stalls, shopkeepers sweeping doorsteps, and the scent of baking bread curling into the air.

    Elara had decided to talk to the townsfolk, hoping to glean any overlooked details, while Del planned to return to Vita¡¯s house. They walked together toward the market square, where they would go their separate ways.

    Before they could part, a flustered Paolo strode towards them, his expression tight with urgency.

    "Another one," he declared, breathless as he reached them. "Last night, another person went missing."

    They stopped short, taking in the elder¡¯s dishevelled state. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair uncombed, and he looked as though he had been dragged straight from bed into another long, exhausting day. The fatigue in his eyes spoke volumes¡ªhe was a man slowly being crushed under the weight of his village¡¯s fears.

    Del tensed. "Who?"

    Paolo exhaled sharply. "Emily. My maid."

    Elara¡¯s eyes widened. "She vanished from your house?"

    Paolo nodded grimly. "This morning, I went downstairs, expecting the usual breakfast preparations¡­ but the kitchen was cold, untouched. I went to Emily¡¯s room¡ªshe wasn¡¯t there. No sign of her. No struggle, no sound in the night. Just¡­ gone."

    He gestured for them to follow, already turning back towards the elder¡¯s residence.

    They moved quickly, passing through the front office and into the private quarters of the building. Paolo led them straight to the kitchen first. It was unnervingly still¡ªclean, orderly, yet lifeless. The stove was cold, the counters free of flour or food scraps, as though the morning had never begun.

    Beyond the kitchen was Emily¡¯s room.

    The moment they stepped inside, the scent hit them¡ªstrong, unmistakable.

    "Listwort," Elara murmured, her eyes narrowing.

    The room itself was in disarray, but in a way that lacked clear violence. The bedclothes were piled in a messy heap on the floor, as if kicked off in sleep or disturbed in sudden movement. A bedside table stood untouched, a half-burned candle still sitting in a pool of hardened wax. The wardrobe doors were slightly ajar, but nothing appeared stolen or out of place.

    Del crossed to the window. Unlike Breeda¡¯s house, there was no shattered glass, no forced entry. It had simply been pushed closed but left unlatched. He ran a hand over the wooden frame, glancing outside.

    "She probably left it open for fresh air," he muttered.

    Elara joined him, scanning the view beyond. "Which means someone could have slipped in easily enough."

    Del¡¯s jaw tightened. The sheer quiet of it all was getting to him. No screams. No struggle. Just another person vanishing into the night.

    He turned back to Paolo. "Can we check the area outside?"

    Paolo nodded immediately, leading them through the back door into the courtyard beyond.

    The yard was enclosed by a high, well-constructed stone wall, roughly six feet tall. A single gate stood in the far corner, secured with a heavy iron padlock. The enclosure was otherwise empty¡ªno obvious disturbance, no scattered belongings.

    Del¡¯s sharp gaze landed on the ground beneath Emily¡¯s window. An almost dry puddle of mud held the faint imprint of a footprint. It was large¡ªlikely a boot¡ªbut frustratingly nondescript. There was no clear tread, no unique markings.

    He crouched, running his fingers lightly over the edges of the imprint. "Could be anyone¡¯s," he muttered.

    Elara frowned, following his line of sight. "Look at the crates," she murmured, gesturing toward a small stack of wooden boxes near the wall.

    Del stood, moving toward them. They were likely leftover from a supply delivery, sturdy and neatly stacked. He placed a hand on the topmost one, testing its stability.

    "They could have been used to climb over," he admitted. "But carrying an unconscious person and scaling a wall like this?" He shook his head. "It would take either impressive strength or more than one person."

    Elara folded her arms. "Maybe both."

    Del exhaled sharply. "And you heard nothing during the night?" he asked Paolo.

    Paolo hesitated before answering, guilt flickering in his eyes. "No," he admitted. "But I slept heavily. I used a draft to help me rest. I¡¯ve been struggling with sleep since all this started."

    Del¡¯s gaze sharpened. "Listwort?"

    A slow nod.

    Elara¡¯s expression darkened. "How many people in Stonebridge use Listwort?" she asked. "Considering it doesn¡¯t grow locally, there seems to be an awful lot of it around."

    Del felt a flicker of admiration¡ªshe was seeing patterns he hadn¡¯t even considered.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Paolo hesitated, rubbing a hand over his forehead. "I¡­ I couldn¡¯t really say," he admitted. "A travelling healer came by a couple of months ago¡ªone of Vita¡¯s suppliers. He also sold some to the market traders for home remedies."

    Del exchanged a glance with Elara. "Did you know this man? Was he one of her regulars?"

    Paolo thought for a moment before shaking his head. "I don¡¯t believe so. Not all traders come through the village. Some just stay with Vita while they¡¯re here."

    Elara¡¯s gaze sharpened. "Can you describe him?"

    Paolo sighed, clearly frustrated by his own lack of useful information. "Not well. I barely spoke to him. He was tall¡ªmaybe six foot. Dark hair, beard, dressed in leathers with a black cloak. That¡¯s all I remember."

    Del crossed his arms, his mind turning over the pieces.

    ¡®Mystery man just moved to the top of the suspect list.¡¯

    Something still felt¡­ off. He didn¡¯t believe in coincidences. This Listwort connection, a stranger passing through at just the right time¡ªit was either linked to the disappearances, or someone had taken advantage of an unfortunate opportunity.

    "Right," he said finally, clapping his hands together. "We can¡¯t do anything else here. I suggest you make sure everyone knows to be extra careful at night. No one goes out alone, even in the evening."

    Paolo nodded grimly. "Agreed."

    "We¡¯ll be back later," Del continued, glancing at Elara. "For now, we need to keep asking questions."

    They turned, stepping out of the enclosed yard and back toward the heart of the village.

    The morning sun was climbing higher, casting long, golden streaks over the rooftops. But despite the clear sky, Del couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of something darker settling over the town.

    People were disappearing, one by one. And Del couldn¡¯t dispel the feeling that they were running out of time.

    They stepped back into the bustling square, where the market was already in full swing. The hum of morning trade filled the air¡ªvendors calling out prices, the rustle of cloth and grain sacks being shuffled, the occasional clang of metal as tools were exchanged. It was almost easy to forget, in the face of such routine, that another person had vanished just hours ago.

    Del and Elara wove through the crowd, their senses heightened as they searched for anything out of place. The scent of fresh produce, dried herbs, and warm bread mingled in the air, but one particular aroma stood out the moment they caught it.

    Listwort.

    Once they knew what to look for, it was easy to follow the bitter, distinctive scent to one of the smaller stalls tucked between a spice merchant and a seller of cloth goods.

    The woman running it was middle-aged, wearing a simple apron dusted with dried plant fragments, her hands deftly portioning out small bundles of herbs for customers. Her stall was stocked with home remedies¡ªdried flowers, roots, and oils¡ªalongside basic household essentials.

    Del barely registered any of it. His gaze had locked onto something far more important.

    ¡®TOOTHPASTE.¡¯

    His brain all but screamed it at him, and before he knew it, he had grabbed two pots of the white minty paste and a strange frayed-ended stick meant for cleaning teeth.

    His mouth practically watered at the thought of finally feeling clean again.

    Elara shot him an amused glance. "Priorities, Del."

    "I don¡¯t mock your magic, don¡¯t mock mine," he muttered, tucking the prized possessions into his pouch.

    Regaining focus, he turned back to the stallholder. "We¡¯re actually here about the Listwort. Where do you get your supply?"

    The woman gave a slight shrug. "Travelling traders, mostly. The last batch came through a couple of months ago. Sold fast, too¡ªlots of people round here have been having trouble sleeping."

    Del and Elara exchanged a glance. ¡®A lot of Listwort in circulation,¡¯ Del considered. ¡®And a lot of people who suddenly needed help sleeping around the time the disappearances started.¡¯

    "Do you remember the trader who sold it to you?" Elara pressed.

    The woman hesitated, furrowing her brow in thought. "Tall, I think. Or maybe not. Had dark hair? Or brown?" She exhaled in frustration. "Honestly, I barely noticed him. Came and went like the rest of them."

    Her description was even less helpful than Paolo¡¯s.

    "Thanks anyway," Del said, forcing down his frustration.

    They stepped away from the stall, moving toward the edge of the square.

    Elara glanced at him. "Do you still want to split up?"

    Del considered it. Paolo¡¯s lead on the trader was proving increasingly useless, but Vita remained the strongest connection they had to the Listwort supply.

    "Yeah," he agreed. "If you ask around here, you might find something I won¡¯t. I¡¯ll see what Vita knows."

    Elara nodded. "We¡¯ll meet at the inn for lunch?"

    "Sounds like a plan."

    They parted ways, Del setting off toward the outskirts of the village, his thoughts still spinning through the morning¡¯s discoveries.

    The narrow track leading to Vita¡¯s cottage was quieter than the village, the sounds of trade fading behind him as the trees thickened around the path. Misty appeared from seemingly nowhere, slipping out of the undergrowth with a satisfied flick of her tail before falling into step beside him.

    Del glanced down at her. "Decided to join me, huh?"

    Misty didn¡¯t answer, but the way she strutted along beside him suggested that, yes, this was a mission worthy of her attention.

    As they rounded the last bend, Vita¡¯s house came into view.

    Something felt off.

    No smoke curled from the chimney, no scent of brewing tonics or simmering herbs wafted from the small garden. It looked¡­ still.

    Empty.

    Del frowned. ¡®That¡¯s not right. She should be here.¡¯

    Misty stopped ahead of him, ears flicking. ¡®Come.¡¯

    Del followed her around the back of the house, where she had leapt onto the kitchen windowsill. The window was wide open, the dark interior yawning beyond.

    A trickle of unease crawled up Del¡¯s spine.

    He knocked firmly on the back door. "Vita?" His voice was met with silence. He knocked again, louder. "Vita, are you in there?"

    Nothing.

    He glanced up at Misty, who sat on the windowsill with her usual air of feline indifference. She gave him a slow blink, then disappeared inside with the effortless grace of a creature that had never known an undignified moment in her life.

    Del sighed. "Of course."

    He heaved himself up, squeezing through the small window with significantly less grace and landing in an undignified heap on the kitchen floor.

    Misty moseyed over and sat beside him, tail curled neatly around her paws. If cats could smirk, she would be.

    Del pushed himself up and scanned the dimly lit space.

    The house was orderly. Too orderly.

    Everything was as it had been when they last saw Vita¡ªexcept for the layer of stillness that suggested no one had disturbed anything in days. A kettle sat on the stove, unused. A neat bundle of herbs rested beside the chopping board, left as if she had intended to return at any moment.

    She never had.

    Del moved cautiously through the house, checking the main living area before heading upstairs.

    The attic workspace was immaculate, every tool in its place, ingredients sorted neatly into labelled jars. Vita had been meticulous.

    But the bedroom was another matter entirely.

    The bedclothes were thrown haphazardly to the floor, as if someone had left in a hurry¡ªor been taken. A single slipper lay half-kicked under the bed, abandoned mid-step. The air was thick with the pungent scent of Listwort.

    Del¡¯s stomach turned.

    Misty padded closer, sniffing at the sheets before giving a small, sorrowful mewl.

    Del sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Yeah. I agree, girl."

    Vita was gone.

    Another victim of the disappearances.

    His mind raced. Had she been taken last night? Or just after they saw her? He had no way of knowing.

    Elara needed to hear about this.

    Del turned, striding toward the door. "Come on, Misty. We¡¯re heading back to Stonebridge."

    The cat flicked her tail and followed, silent as a shadow.

    The village had lost another.

 Chapter 38 â€“ Gossip and games

    Del had barely made it out of sight before Elara felt a pang of misgiving settle in her gut. She trusted her instincts, and they were warning her of potential hostility in his absence. The village had already shown hints of discomfort towards her kind, and while Del¡¯s presence had acted as a buffer, she would now have to face them alone. But another part of her bristled at the thought of relying on him for that. She had a role to play in this investigation, and she intended to prove her worth.

    Her plan was simple¡ªstart at the market. If this place was anything like the ones back in her Hometree, it would be a hub of information, gossip, and rumour.

    The market was already thick with talk, and it didn¡¯t take long for Elara to pick up on the thread of conversation winding through the traders and customers alike. Emily¡¯s disappearance had shaken the village¡ªher absence felt even more keenly because she had lived and worked in the elder¡¯s house, just behind the market itself.

    Yet alongside the concern, there was fear.

    ¡°Gone, just like the others.¡±

    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t have run off. Not Emily.¡±

    ¡°There was no scream, no sound at all¡­¡±

    Elara let the voices wash over her, filing away snippets of rumour as she wandered through the bustling rows of stalls.

    Her presence alone stirred further whispers¡ªsome subtle, others far more brazen. She had expected this. Elves were rare in this part of the land, and few from her kind strayed from the main trade routes. As far as the villagers knew, she was the first to have crossed the mountains and descended into Stonebridge in living memory. It wasn¡¯t surprising, then, that she became the subject of speculation.

    A pair of older women near a vegetable cart eyed her as she passed, their hushed conversation not quite hushed enough.

    "It¡¯s not natural, them coming here. First the boy, now her."

    "Mark my words, trouble follows their kind."

    Elara fought the urge to sigh. She had heard it all before.

    ¡®Fair enough,¡¯ she thought, forcing an easy expression as she moved from stall to stall. ¡®We did arrive in the middle of a crisis, and history between our peoples has never been¡­ smooth.¡¯

    The market itself was a sensory feast. The scent of freshly baked bread, steaming meat pies, and the sharp tang of citrus fruits mingled in the air. Stalls brimmed with neatly cut linens, well-crafted tools, and everyday goods, each a reflection of the village¡¯s quiet industry.

    She slowed as she approached a herbalist¡¯s stall, eyeing the neat bundles of dried plants. A middle-aged woman, her apron dusted with leaves and flower fragments, looked up as Elara stepped closer.

    The briefest hesitation.

    Then the woman gave a polite smile, though her fingers remained curled protectively around the scales she had just been using.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± Elara greeted, keeping her tone light.

    The herbalist gave a small nod. ¡°Morning.¡±

    Elara plucked up a bundle of dried feverfew, rolling the stems between her fingers. ¡°This is well preserved. You grow it yourself?¡±

    The woman relaxed¡ªjust a little. ¡°Aye. Some of it. The rest comes from traders passing through. Feverfew grows well here, but our winters can be harsh.¡±

    Elara nodded thoughtfully, setting down the herbs. ¡°I take it your other stock comes from Vita?¡±

    The woman¡¯s mouth pulled into a thin line, the tension snapping back into place. ¡°Used to.¡±

    Elara stilled. ¡°Used to?¡±

    The herbalist exhaled sharply, lowering her voice. ¡°She¡¯s gone. Didn¡¯t show up at the stall yesterday, nor today. And she¡¯s never missed a trade day before, not once.¡±

    Something cold settled in Elara¡¯s stomach. Another one.

    She kept her expression neutral, giving a slow nod. ¡°That¡¯s troubling.¡±

    The woman huffed, adjusting the baskets on her stall. ¡°Everything¡¯s troubling these days.¡±

    Before Elara could press further, another customer pushed forward, eager to make a purchase. The conversation was over.

    She moved on.

    Elara took her time, knowing that browsing was an excellent excuse for conversation. Each exchange started the same way¡ªpolite small talk from the traders, often laced with cautious curiosity.

    "Where¡¯d you come from, then?"

    "You finding Stonebridge to your liking?"

    Most interactions were cordial enough, but she didn¡¯t miss the moments of distrust.

    The subtle tension in shoulders. The way certain traders locked their coin boxes as she approached. The quick glances, the barely veiled suspicion.

    A butcher lowered his cleaver mid-chop, eyes tracking her as she passed. A cloth merchant tucked her wares behind her counter, a habit so deeply ingrained it almost seemed unconscious.

    Elara kept her expression neutral, though inwardly, it stung.

    She had done nothing to warrant such suspicion, yet experience had taught her that for some, difference alone was enough.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    She pressed on, drawing in fragments of rumour. Theories ranged wildly¡ªa rogue witch or warlock, wild animals, or something far worse lurking in the dark.

    One particularly outlandish claim even suggested that Paolo himself wasn¡¯t as innocent as he seemed, though most of the village held him in high esteem.

    Elara glanced toward the elder¡¯s house in the distance, watching as Paolo moved between his duties, face creased with worry.

    ¡®No. Not him.¡¯

    She had seen true grief before. And Paolo¡¯s was not an act.

    Elara dismissed most of it outright.

    Wild animals? Unlikely. There had been no signs of struggle, no bodies, no blood. If wolves had taken anyone, there would be evidence. Magic? Perhaps¡ªbut no trace of spells had been found.

    She entertained the Paolo theory for a moment before discarding it. His raw grief and exhaustion that morning had been too visceral to be an act. More than that, she trusted her instincts, and she was usually a good judge of character. Paolo felt like a good man.

    Not unlike Del, really.

    A small smile flickered across her lips as she thought of him¡ªof his earnestness, his quiet kindness, and his frankly baffling lack of knowledge about the wider world. A puzzle of a man, really. Hopefully, he was making better progress with Vita than she was here.

    What she did find, however, was confirmation of something else.

    Listwort.

    The scent of it clung to the market like an invisible thread, weaving through the stalls, carried in the pouches and baskets of villagers. The more she listened, the clearer it became¡ªnearly everyone used it.

    If she hadn¡¯t known better, she might have worried that the town was caught in the grip of some addiction. But Listwort had no such properties. So why was it so widely used? And more importantly¡ªwhy now?

    That was a question worth answering.

    Elara eventually moved on from the market, her frustration mounting. There were only so many half-truths and baseless rumours she could sift through before realising that none of it was leading anywhere useful. If there were real answers to be found, they wouldn¡¯t be lurking between bartering vendors and gossiping shoppers.

    So she turned her attention elsewhere.

    The workshops held a different kind of energy¡ªless idle chatter, more purposeful work. Here, hands were busy, voices quieter, focused. The carpenter¡¯s shop, in particular, was a world unto itself. The heady scent of fresh-cut timber filled the air, thick and rich, mingling with the sharper tang of wood varnish. Afternoon sunlight streamed through high, dust-flecked windows, setting fine sawdust adrift like golden motes, suspended mid-air as if time itself had slowed.

    The rhythmic rasp of a saw cut steadily through the quiet, punctuated by the occasional thud of a mallet or the low murmur of craftsmen at work. It was a place of creation and restoration, yet the weight of loss lingered between the planks and beams.

    It was here that she learned about Will.

    ¡°My nephew, he was,¡± Joe, the village joiner, said, his voice thick with something restrained.

    He was a broad-shouldered man, his hands rough and calloused from decades of labour, his face lined not just with age but with worry. Yet as he spoke of the missing young man, something fragile surfaced in his expression, a tension in his jaw, a grief carried without words.

    ¡°He worked as a baker¡¯s hand,¡± Joe continued. ¡°Good lad, strong. Last time anyone saw him, he¡¯d just finished his shift. Said he was going to gather firewood for the night.¡±

    Elara nodded, listening intently as he recounted the days of searching¡ªhow he and a few others had combed the woods, turning over every rock, pressing through tangled undergrowth, hoping for any sign of the boy they¡¯d lost.

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

    Joe¡¯s grip on his chisel tightened, his fingers flexing around the worn wooden handle. ¡°Not even a scuff of dirt to say where he went. All we found was his billeting axe, lying there on the ground like he¡¯d just¡­ put it down.¡±

    Elara felt a cold ripple down her spine.

    Another disappearance with no trace, no struggle, no explanation. It was as though the earth itself had simply opened and swallowed him whole.

    Joe exhaled, the sound weary. ¡°Lucky thing, I suppose.¡±

    Elara frowned. ¡°Lucky?¡±

    Joe sighed, his eyes distant. ¡°That he had no wife. No sprouts.¡±

    The words landed heavily, their meaning clear¡ªno one left behind to suffer his loss.

    Elara studied him for a moment, the way his fingers hovered too long over his chisel, the way his gaze drifted towards the unfinished work in front of him. A man who had lost something, but could not afford to stop working.

    She said nothing.

    There was nothing to say.

    She turned this over in her mind as she continued gathering information throughout the village, speaking to anyone willing to talk.

    The pattern emerged slowly but surely.

    Every missing person was alone. No spouse. No children. No one wholly dependent on them.

    Coincidence? Maybe. But something about it itched at the back of her mind, like a puzzle piece that refused to slot into place.

    By the time she drifted further into the village, she had no solid answers¡ªonly more unanswered questions.

    And then¡ª

    ¡°Quick, hide!¡±

    The loud whisper came from up ahead.

    Elara¡¯s gaze focussed on a group of children scattering into the bushes, their giggles muffled behind hands and rustling leaves. A small boy stood in the middle of the path, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his hands clamped over them.

    He began counting, calling out numbers in a loud voice packed with excited energy

    The boy continued counting, his voice high and determined.

    As he got to the end of his count he whipped his hands from his eyes with a triumphant cry of ¡°Dix! Coming ready or not.¡± Scattered laughter rippled through the bushes as the hunt began.

    Elara¡¯s steps slowed.

    A strange, bittersweet feeling curled in her chest.

    For just a moment, she was somewhere else entirely.

    Not in this troubled village. Not surrounded by whispers of disappearances and distrust.

    But in a sun-dappled clearing, deep in the forests of her Hometree, where childhood had been carefree and unburdened. When life had been nothing but laughter, breathless chases through ancient branches, and the simple certainty that tomorrow would be just as bright as today.

    She remembered Skybound, a favourite game among the younglings, played high in the canopy where the branches wove a labyrinth of paths. One child would be the Seeker, eyes shut tight, counting softly while the others scattered, scrambling into the dense foliage. The goal was simple¡ªremain unseen, leaping between boughs, blending with the shadows cast by thick leaves. The only rule: feet must never touch the ground.

    Elara had been quick, nimble, able to balance on the slimmest of branches without a whisper of movement. But she hadn¡¯t always been the best at hiding¡ªher excitement too great, her breath too loud. She could still hear the teasing call of her brother, his voice echoing through the trees as he spotted her, laughter spilling between the trunks.

    "Elara! I see you! Skybound is not played by standing still!"

    She had shrieked with laughter, launching herself to the next branch, fingers grazing bark as she narrowly escaped being caught. The game had felt endless, like the sky itself stretched just for them, and the wind in her hair had whispered of nothing but freedom.

    Those were the days before responsibilities.

    Before duty.

    Before she had been forced to make choices she could never take back.

    Elara¡¯s lips pressed together, the moment slipping from her grasp. Running from the past never made it disappear.

    She forced her focus back to the present.

    The boy had found most of his giggling friends, their hiding places giving them away one by one. Only one remained, perched on the slanted roof of a shed, grinning triumphantly.

    Elara barely had time to take it in before a small whirlwind of movement surrounded her.

    They had spotted her.

    She was immediately engulfed by a half-dozen children, chattering and pulling at her sleeves as they bombarded her with an unfiltered flurry of questions.

    ¡°You came in the other day!¡±

    ¡°You have pretty eyes.¡±

    ¡°Can I play with your bow?¡±

    ¡°Why are your ears pointy?¡±

    ¡°Do you know the night man?¡±

    The last question sent an unexpected shiver down Elara¡¯s spine.

    She crouched slightly, levelling her gaze with the child who had spoken.

    ¡°¡­The night man?¡±

 Chapter 39 â€“ Naomi

    That last question stopped Elara short.

    The endless flood of eager, chaotic chatter had been easy to field¡ªquestions about her bow, her ears, her presence in the village¡ªbut this one carried a different weight.

    She turned her attention to the little girl who had spoken, crouching to meet her at eye level. Up close, she could see that the child was about seven, maybe eight, with rich auburn hair woven into two neat plaits, deep green eyes, and a button nose sprinkled with freckles.

    Before Elara could speak, one of the boys scoffed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to her.¡± His tone was dismissive. ¡°She makes up stories.¡±

    Elara ignored him, much to his disappointment. Instead, she gave the girl a warm smile, keeping her voice soft.

    ¡°Hello,¡± she greeted gently. ¡°I¡¯m Elara. What¡¯s your name?¡±

    The child scuffed her shoe against the ground, shifting uncertainly.

    ¡°Naomi,¡± she mumbled.

    ¡°Well, Naomi,¡± Elara said, voice light, ¡°why don¡¯t you and I have a little talk about the Night Man?¡±

    From her pouch, she pulled out a small bag of sweets, freshly bought from the market, and held one out to Naomi before passing the rest to the other children to share.

    The girl studied Elara as she chewed, her gaze thoughtful, as though weighing her answer carefully. A small dribble of sticky syrup escaped from the corner of her mouth, but she seemed too deep in thought to notice.

    ¡°You have pretty eyes,¡± she declared suddenly.

    Elara chuckled. ¡°Thank you, Naomi. So do you.¡±

    Naomi beamed, pleased by the compliment, but as soon as the sweets were gone, the other children began losing interest in the conversation, drifting away to find new entertainment.

    Elara took the opportunity to guide Naomi toward a low stone wall, brushing away a few fallen leaves before sitting down. She patted the space beside her, offering the girl a chance to join her at her own pace.

    Naomi hesitated, glancing once more at her departing friends. For a moment, it seemed she might bolt after them, torn between the pull of familiarity and the weight of her own words. But then, with a small, determined nod, she climbed up onto the wall, swinging her legs slightly as she settled beside Elara.

    Elara let the silence sit for a beat, watching as Naomi¡¯s fingers twisted the hem of her tunic, her confidence from earlier dimming slightly now that it was just the two of them.

    "I guess they don¡¯t know the Night Man, do they?" Elara asked casually, keeping her tone light, conversational¡ªoffering an easy path for Naomi to follow.

    The girl shook her head immediately, her plaits bouncing slightly with the movement.

    "I don¡¯t either," Elara admitted, tilting her head as if sharing a secret. "But I think I might be looking for him."

    Naomi¡¯s lips parted slightly, but she didn¡¯t speak.

    Elara reached into her pouch, sneaking out another sweet, glancing around before passing it over. She made sure the rest of the children were safely out of sight before giving Naomi the treat¡ªafter all, she wanted some left for herself later.

    Naomi held the sweet between her fingers for a moment, as though considering whether or not Elara truly deserved to know. Then she tucked it into her mouth, chewing slowly, thoughtfully.

    "I saw him," she said at last, her voice hushed, secretive.

    Elara studied her carefully. "Have you?"

    Naomi nodded fiercely, her small hands clenching into fists, as if expecting to be challenged.

    "I really did."

    Her voice was louder this time, more certain.

    "But they don¡¯t believe me. They didn¡¯t believe me when I said a fox was going to steal the chickens, either. But it still came!"

    She straightened her back, indignance settling into every inch of her small frame, her green eyes flashing with frustration.

    "They just say I make up stories."

    She stood up suddenly, her boots scraping against the stone wall, her fists clenched at her sides.

    Elara remained still, letting Naomi say what she needed to say.

    "I don¡¯t make things up," the girl declared fiercely, glaring up at Elara as if daring her to say otherwise.

    A tense beat of silence.

    Then, as if needing to solidify her point, Naomi stamped her foot sharply, sending a small flurry of dust scattering off the wall¡¯s edge.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Then, with a huff of frustration, she plopped back down, arms folding tightly across her chest.

    Elara remained quiet for a moment, turning the girl¡¯s words over in her mind.

    See them?

    It wasn¡¯t just the certainty in Naomi¡¯s voice¡ªit was the way she held herself, the way she had stopped caring whether or not her friends believed her.

    Elara chose her next words carefully.

    "You see them when you sleep?" she asked gently. "Like¡­ in a dream?"

    Naomi hesitated. Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her tunic, and for the first time, she looked uncertain.

    Finally, she gave a tiny, embarrassed nod.

    "Yes."

    Her voice was barely above a whisper, as though admitting it out loud might make it less real.

    "That¡¯s why they don¡¯t believe me," she added. "They say I¡¯m just making things up."

    Elara felt the edges of a smile tugging at her lips, but this time, it wasn¡¯t out of amusement¡ªit was out of understanding.

    She reached out, giving Naomi¡¯s small hand a gentle squeeze.

    "I believe you."

    Naomi¡¯s entire face lit up, her grin so wide and bright it could have outshone the moon.

    Naomi¡¯s entire face lit up, her grin so wide and bright it could have outshone the moon.

    Elara stood, brushing dust from her cloak before offering her hand to the small girl.

    ¡°Alright, Naomi. I¡¯ll tell you what we¡¯re going to do.¡±

    Naomi slipped her hand into Elara¡¯s without hesitation, her small fingers gripping firm and trusting.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± she asked, suddenly eager. ¡°I can¡¯t go far. I¡¯m not allowed out the village gates yet.¡±

    ¡°No, not far,¡± Elara assured her. ¡°We¡¯re going to have a talk with Paolo.¡±

    Naomi¡¯s eyes widened into a perfectly round ¡®O¡¯, her fingers tightening around Elara¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    Elara laughed, the sound light and musical.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± she said, giving Naomi¡¯s hand a reassuring squeeze. ¡°He¡¯s a friend of mine.¡±

    As they passed back through the market, Elara felt the weight of idle stares settling on them. People watched, curiosity flickering across their expressions, though none dared to ask outright.

    A butcher, halfway through carving a joint of meat, paused just slightly, his knife hovering mid-slice before he resumed his work, eyes tracking them as they passed. A seamstress at her stall, her fingers deftly threading a needle, missed a stitch, muttered a curse under her breath, then subtly turned her head to follow their movement.

    No one stopped them.

    No one challenged them.

    Naomi wasn¡¯t crying, wasn¡¯t afraid, and that seemed enough to keep outright confrontation at bay.

    Still, there was a quiet tension in the air¡ªsomething unspoken, something that made Elara all too aware of the weight of their attention.

    Behind them, she could sense the presence of the other children.

    A few yards back, they trailed behind, shadowing their steps, their interest growing with every turn. Their voices rose in hurried, hushed whispers, carrying just far enough for Elara to catch fragments.

    ¡°Where¡¯s she taking her?¡±

    ¡°Is she in trouble?¡±

    Elara merely smiled to herself and kept walking, but Naomi slowed slightly, her fingers tightening around Elara¡¯s hand.

    She glanced over her shoulder.

    The other children quickly looked away, pretending to be busy inspecting a stack of apples at a nearby stall. One of the younger boys, perhaps no older than five, made a superstitious gesture, a quick tap of his knuckles against his forehead before darting away toward his mother.

    Elara caught the movement and filed it away.

    Even at this age, the children knew when something wasn¡¯t quite right.

    She gave Naomi¡¯s hand a reassuring squeeze and kept moving, guiding her forward, step by step, until the buzz of the market began to fade behind them.

    Once they passed through the gates of the elder¡¯s residence, the onlookers were left behind, and the village noise muffled into quiet.

    Inside, the front office was still, the heavy hush of the building pressing in around them. She led Naomi through the open doorway beyond, where she found Paolo seated at his desk, head in his hands.

    He barely stirred at their approach.

    ¡°Are you busy?¡± Elara asked.

    Paolo lifted his head, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion.

    He shrugged, his movements slow, weighed down by something heavy.

    ¡°I can¡¯t seem to get my mind on things today.¡± He exhaled, rubbing his temples. ¡°Emily¡­¡± His voice trailed off, thick with grief.

    Elara nodded in understanding.

    She pulled out a chair and sat, motioning for Naomi to join her. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, the child climbed onto her lap, half-hiding herself against Elara¡¯s shoulder, her fingers curling into the fabric of her tunic.

    Elara smoothed a hand reassuringly over Naomi¡¯s plaits.

    ¡°This is Naomi. I¡¯m sure you know her.¡±

    Paolo¡¯s brow furrowed, but he managed a faint nod.

    ¡°Yes, I know her. One of the Cooper children, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Naomi gave a small, shy nod, her face still half-buried.

    Elara took a slow breath, choosing her words carefully.

    ¡°I believe Naomi is a Dreamwalker.¡±

    Paolo¡¯s expression flickered¡ªconfusion first, then something akin to scepticism.

    Elara anticipated it and continued smoothly before he could object.

    ¡°A Dreamwalker is someone gifted with the ability to walk the astral¡ªthe space between waking and sleeping, life and death.¡± She kept her voice steady, calm, as she watched Paolo process her words. ¡°It¡¯s a rare talent, but it emerges in early childhood. If encouraged and nurtured, Dreamwalkers can grow into powerful seers and scryers. But if they are ridiculed, ignored, or made to feel ashamed, the gift often fades¡ªlost to the ether as childhood ends.¡±

    Paolo leaned back slightly, arms crossing over his chest.

    ¡°You truly believe Naomi has this gift?¡±

    Elara glanced down at the girl, who was watching her intently, small fingers still gripping the fabric of her tunic.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    She met Paolo¡¯s gaze again.

    ¡°She has seen things and remembers them when she wakes.¡±

    A flicker of hesitation crossed Paolo¡¯s face, but Elara pressed on.

    ¡°She saw foxes before they raided the chicken coops. No one believed her then, but she was right.¡±

    Naomi nodded eagerly, her confidence growing. ¡°They never listen,¡± she muttered. ¡°But I see things. I really do.¡±

    Elara could see she had Paolo¡¯s full attention now.

    She hesitated for only a moment before delivering the final piece of information.

    ¡°And what¡¯s more, Paolo¡ªshe has seen the Night Man.¡±

    Paolo¡¯s reaction was immediate.

    He almost pushed himself upright, his hands pressed hard against the desk, the tension in his shoulders shifting from exhaustion to alarm.

    His mouth opened, a sharp intake of breath¡ª

    Then a sudden noise cut through the room.

    Footsteps. Fast. Heavy. Pounding against the wooden floorboards.

    Elara¡¯s head snapped up, every muscle instinctively tensing. Someone was running. Hard.

    Paolo turned toward the door just as a sharp thud echoed from the hall¡ªa misstep, a shoulder clipping a doorframe, a stumble, a desperate recovery.

    Then¡ª

    The door slammed open.

    Del.

    His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving, sweat dampening his collar. His face was flushed from exertion, but it was his eyes that stopped Elara cold¡ªwild, frantic, burning with urgency.

    For a brief moment, he just stood there, his whole body locked in the momentum of his sprint, his fists clenched at his sides as if his muscles had yet to catch up with his mind.

    Then he forced the words out, voice raw, urgent¡ª

    "Vita''s gone."

    The air in the room seemed to tighten, waiting, dreading.

    Del gulped in another breath, barely able to contain it, his whole frame vibrating with adrenaline.

    "She¡¯s been taken."

 Chapter 40 â€“ A sad plant

    The silence that follows Del¡¯s words is thick, suffocating.

    Elara and Paolo stare at him, their faces frozen in a mix of shock and disbelief, but it¡¯s Naomi¡¯s reaction that twists something deep in his chest¡ªher wide-eyed fear, the way her small fingers clutch at Elara¡¯s sleeve.

    "Taken?" Paolo finally manages, his voice rasping over the word. "What makes you say that? She often goes into the woods to gather plants for her medicines."

    Del shakes his head sharply, still catching his breath.

    "No." The single word is firm, final. "Her bedroom was a mess, and the smell of Listwort was overpowering. She¡¯s been taken, just like the others."

    Paolo lets out a harsh, shuddering breath, his fingers digging into his temples as he rubs at his face before dragging his hands down to his chin. For a moment, it looks as though he might say something, but instead, his fists clench against the desk, his knuckles whitening.

    Then, with a sudden burst of movement, he slams his palm against the wood, the sharp sound cracking through the heavy silence.

    "Damn it!" The word is half-growled, half-choked, his voice thick with frustration. "How? How is this still happening?"

    He pushes back his chair, rising abruptly, his fingers gripping the desk edge as though trying to ground himself. His shoulders are tense, his breath uneven, and when he lifts his gaze, the exhaustion from earlier is gone¡ªreplaced with something raw, something dangerously close to helpless rage.

    Elara, still staring, draws in a slow breath, her expression tight. Unlike Paolo, she doesn¡¯t lash out physically, but the tension in her jaw, the slight narrowing of her eyes; the way her fingers curl and grip the arm of the seat, all speak volumes.

    "We should be doing more." Her voice is quieter than Paolo¡¯s, but there¡¯s a cutting edge beneath it, a quiet fury held back only by the presence of a small child clinging to her sleeve.

    Naomi.

    She had gone completely still, her small hand clutching Elara¡¯s tunic so tightly that her knuckles had turned pale. Her wide green eyes flickered between them, absorbing the anger, the fear, the tension in the air.

    Then, in a voice barely above a whisper¡ª

    "I like Vita."

    The words are simple, soft, but there¡¯s something fragile underneath them, something small and scared trying to make sense of a world that suddenly doesn¡¯t feel safe.

    The voice is small.

    Del turns, his focus snapping to Naomi for the first time, suddenly realising that in his rush, he hadn¡¯t even noticed her before.

    She fidgets slightly; her expression clouded with worry. "She made my brother¡¯s bad leg better."

    Del softens. "She¡¯s a nice lady." He looks at Elara in question.

    "Naomi," Elara supplies gently.

    He nods. "Well, Naomi, I agree."

    Before Del can say more, Elara¡¯s voice shifts, taking on a new, measured quality¡ªcareful, deliberate, weighted with meaning.

    "I believe Naomi to be a Dreamwalker."

    Del blinks.

    ¡®Dreamwalker? What the hell is a Dreamwalker?¡¯

    The word means nothing to him. He¡¯d seen magic, sure¡ªseen glimpses of it in Elara¡¯s hands, felt its strange hum in the air when she worked with plants¡ªbut what was this?

    "A dreamwalker can see things, view events happening and sometimes even glimpse future possibilities, a bit like a seers ability" Elara explained on seeing his confused look.

    His instincts bristle, that same unease creeping in when things start veering into the unknown.

    Because this wasn¡¯t magic.

    This was placing faith in a child¡¯s dreams.

    His eyes flicker toward Naomi. A kid. Small. Uncertain. Fragile. And Elara was saying she could¡ªwhat? See things that hadn¡¯t happened yet? Glimpse people who were lost?

    Del¡¯s jaw tightens.

    ¡®You don¡¯t just bet on dreams. You don¡¯t risk lives on maybe.¡¯

    And yet¡ª

    Paolo looks up sharply, the tiredness in his face momentarily replaced by something else. Suspicion? Uncertainty? Hope?

    He stares at Naomi, his fingers tapping absently against the desk. Then he lets out a slow breath, pressing the heel of his palm against his temple, as if trying to physically sort through the information.

    "You¡¯re serious," he says, though the words hold no question¡ªjust a quiet, weary acceptance.

    Elara gives a small, solemn nod.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    Paolo rubs at his temples again, sighing deeply. ¡°And this is¡­ safe?¡± His tone is hesitant, but not entirely dismissive.

    Elara doesn¡¯t answer immediately.

    Instead, she looks down at Naomi.

    At the little girl who had fallen completely still, her small hands gripping the fabric of her tunic, her green eyes wide with something far heavier than simple hesitation.

    The flicker of anxiety, the way her shoulders shrunk inward just slightly.

    She was afraid.

    Not of magic. Not of what Elara was saying.

    But of failing.

    "Me?" Naomi¡¯s voice is small, barely a whisper. "But¡­ but I¡¯m just a girl."

    She glances at Del, at Paolo, at Elara. Searching. Waiting. Expecting the doubt she always got.

    "Grown-ups never listen to me."

    The words are raw. Matter-of-fact.

    Something twists in Del¡¯s chest.

    For a moment, he sees a different child, a different time¡ªsomeone smaller, scrappier, standing in the shadow of men who never listened, never saw anything but a boy too weak, too small, too unimportant to be heard.

    Elara smiles gently, taking Naomi¡¯s hand. "I¡¯m listening."

    "But I¡¯m not allowed outside the village gates."

    Elara doesn¡¯t hesitate.

    Stroking  Naomi¡¯s hand, her fingers gentle, her expression steady and warm. Her whole demeanour shifts, softens¡ªlike she¡¯s speaking to something delicate, something that needs careful tending.

    "It¡¯s okay, Naomi," she soothes. "You won¡¯t have to go anywhere." She gestures around the room. "You can look for them from right here. Shall I show you how?"

    Naomi¡¯s eyes dart to Del, to Paolo, before settling back on Elara.

    She nods. Slowly.

    Elara keeps hold of Naomi¡¯s hand for a moment longer before letting go, settling into a careful, measured tone.

    "Some of us elves can do magic," she explains. "I can do some small magics. Want to see?"

    Naomi nods again, this time far more enthusiastically, curiosity overtaking her fear.

    Elara glances around the room, scanning for something suitable. Her gaze lands on a rather sorry-looking potted plant in the corner, its leaves drooping, its soil dry and cracked.

    "My magic involves plants," she tells Naomi, pointing towards it.

    Then, she quirks a brow at Paolo. "You need to look after your plants better."

    Del watches as Paolo lets out an incredulous scoff, but the protest dies on his lips.

    Because Elara lifts her hand, and the air shifts.

    A familiar, almost electric warmth washes over Del¡¯s skin, like the first touch of sunlight on a winter morning. He recognises it¡ªthe same tingling sensation in his gut he felt back in the woods.

    Magic.

    Across the room, the plant stirs.

    The wilting leaves quiver, then straighten, their dull, lifeless green deepening to something rich and vibrant. The whole plant seems to drink in the air itself, swelling with new vigour. Then, as if awakening from a deep sleep, a thin stem unfurls from the centre, twisting upwards, curling, until¡ª

    A bud forms.

    And in the space of a breath, it blooms.

    The petals blush with a blue-tinged glow, delicate and perfect.

    Del stares, absorbed. He barely registers the reactions around him¡ªuntil Naomi lets out a soft, shaky gasp.

    He glances at her, then at Paolo.

    Naomi¡¯s mouth hangs open, her small hands clutching at the fabric of her tunic, eyes round with wonder.

    Paolo looks the same¡ªstunned, blinking slowly, his earlier exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

    ¡®Now there¡¯s something you don¡¯t see every day, Del.¡¯

    Then, a breathless whisper¡ª

    "Magic."

    Naomi¡¯s voice is filled with awe, a near-reverent hush.

    Elara turns to her, smiling. "Yes, Naomi. Magic. And you can do magic too. Would you like me to teach you?"

    For a moment, Naomi just stares at her, her expression cycling through awe, disbelief, amazement¡ª

    Then, all at once¡ª

    She squeals with uncontainable delight, launching herself into Elara¡¯s lap and wrapping her arms around her neck in a sudden, exuberant hug.

    "You can teach me magic? Really? Can you, can you? Yes! Oh yes! Can I make flowers? Can I zap people? How do I do it? Tell me, tell me, pleeeease!"

    The words tumble out of her too fast to follow, a breathless flood of enthusiasm.

    Del watches, fighting the urge to laugh outright.

    It took some effort, but eventually, she managed to peel the ecstatic child back just enough to meet her gaze. Naomi¡¯s face was flushed, her little chest rising and falling rapidly, but as soon as she saw Elara¡¯s serious expression, she began to calm.

    Elara held her gently by the shoulders. "All right, Naomi, I can teach you some magic."

    Naomi stood, eyes wide.

    "Not like mine, though," Elara continued. "Yours is different from mine."

    She patted the seat beside her, and Naomi obediently settled beside her, her earlier giddiness giving way to fierce concentration.

    The shift was almost instantaneous¡ªone moment, she was a bundle of unrestrained enthusiasm, the next, a student, her brow furrowed, hands clasped, gaze locked on Elara with utter seriousness.

    Del arched a brow, watching her transformation with mild envy.

    ¡®Wish I could get into learning mode as fast as a kid.¡¯

    He leaned back slightly, settling in to watch. ¡®Maybe I might learn a few new tricks myself.¡¯

    He wasn¡¯t the only one paying close attention.

    Paolo, who had previously been staring at his miraculously revived plant, finally tore his gaze away, shifting his chair slightly closer. His earlier exhaustion was still there, but something new flickered in his eyes now¡ªinterest. Hope.

    Elara let the silence stretch a moment, then began her lesson.

    "Magic," she said, her voice low and deliberate, "is a rare thing, and not everyone has it."

    Naomi nodded quickly, drinking in every word.

    "Some races have more, some less," Elara continued. "Elves, like me, tend to have a lot of magic¡ªours is tied to nature, to energy, to things that grow and live. Gnomes have a lot of magic too, but theirs is different¡ªit¡¯s tied to things they make, things they build. Their magic makes things work better, faster, stronger."

    Naomi¡¯s eyes widened in fascination.

    "Dwarves," Elara went on, "very rarely have magic. But when they do¡ªoh, Naomi, it is powerful. Unpredictable. Wild, like a storm that cannot be tamed."

    Naomi wrinkled her nose at the thought, as though trying to imagine a wild, unpredictable storm of magic inside a stout, grumbling dwarf.

    Elara chuckled at the look on Naomi¡¯s face.

    Then she sobered slightly.

    "But you," she said gently, "you are human. And the humans with magic? They can have all sorts of gifts."

    She paused, letting the words sink in.

    Naomi¡¯s fingers twitched in her lap.

    "I have magic?" she whispered.

    Elara gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

    "Yes, I think you do."

    Naomi let out a soft, shaky breath, as if she¡¯d been holding onto the hope of those words but had never truly dared to believe them.

    "Do you remember when I said I thought you were a Dreamwalker?" Elara asked.

    Naomi nodded slowly, her fingers tightening around Elara¡¯s.

    "Well," Elara said, "Dreamwalking is a very special kind of magic."

    Del found himself leaning forward slightly, more absorbed in this conversation than he¡¯d expected.

    Even Paolo looked entirely engrossed now, his earlier mood momentarily forgotten.

    Naomi hesitated, biting her lip. "Am I really a Dreamwalker?"

    Elara smiled reassuringly.

    "I think you are."

    She let that truth settle, then continued gently.

    "Those times you remembered your dreams¡ªthe fox, the things that happened, the Night Man? That sounds very much like Dreamwalking."

    Naomi¡¯s face transformed, shifting through awe, disbelief, then wonder.

    Her mouth formed another soft, breathless ¡®oh¡¯, her mind working furiously to take it all in.

    "So," Elara said, a small smile playing at her lips, "I¡¯m going to try and help you with it."

    She squeezed Naomi¡¯s hand.

    "Would you like that?"

    For a moment, Naomi didn¡¯t move.

    Then, all at once, she nodded furiously, eyes bright with possibility.

 Chapter 41 â€“ Magic Lessons

    "Magic," Elara begins, tapping her chest firmly, then forming a fist just below her breasts, "comes from here."

    She taps her head. "And is controlled here."

    Naomi¡¯s rapt concentration is locked entirely on Elara, her small brow furrowed in focus.

    "Now, at the moment, you have magic here."

    Elara gently taps the girl¡¯s chest, just below her heart. Naomi follows the motion, pressing her small fingers against the spot.

    Then Elara touches her own temple. "But no control here."

    Naomi nods slowly, her lips pressing together in thought.

    Elara takes a breath, hesitating for a moment, and that¡¯s when Del realises¡ªhe¡¯s rubbing his own chest absently, right above his diaphragm.

    ¡®If only¡­ Maybe one day, you daft sod.¡¯

    "Now, because you haven¡¯t learned control yet," Elara continues, "your dreamwalking just happens when it wants to. And it goes where it likes."

    She tilts her head slightly, watching the child. "Do you see what I mean?"

    Naomi¡¯s eyes narrow slightly in thought, her small hands clenching briefly before she finally gives a slow nod.

    "I think so," she says. "That¡¯s why I have dreams?"

    It¡¯s spoken like a question, uncertainty laced through the words.

    "I believe it is," Elara says with a bright smile. "Now, controlling it¡ªthis is the hard part."

    She frowns, tapping her fingers lightly against her knee. "Well, hard at first. When I first learned to control plants, it was difficult, but the more I did it, the easier it became."

    Naomi chews on her lip, hard, her small fingers tapping restlessly against her knee as she processes Elara¡¯s words.

    Then, her head jerks up suddenly, eyes narrowing.

    "But how can I control a dream?" she blurts, frustration edging into her voice. "I¡¯m asleep."

    Her brows scrunch together, the earlier enthusiasm in her face now tangled with confusion. She shifts, arms folding tightly across her chest, her foot jiggling slightly as if she¡¯s bracing herself against something that doesn¡¯t quite make sense.

    ¡®Fair point.¡¯ Del shifts slightly, fascinated despite himself. ¡®This whole subject has me enthralled.¡¯

    Elara doesn¡¯t answer immediately.

    Instead, she watches Naomi closely, her expression warm and knowing. Then she grins.

    "That¡¯s why you learn to control it when you¡¯re not really asleep."

    Naomi¡¯s fidgeting slows, her expression flickering between skepticism and curiosity.

    Elara pauses, allowing Naomi to settle, then continues.

    "You know when you lie down and close your eyes to rest but don¡¯t actually sleep?"

    Naomi¡¯s frown deepens for a second, but then her eyes brighten with understanding.

    "Nap time."

    Then she wrinkles her nose, lowering her voice to a mock-serious whisper.

    "I don¡¯t always want to sleep, but I pretend so Mummy won¡¯t get cross."

    Elara laughs softly, nodding. "Exactly."

    Naomi grins at the validation, her earlier frustration melting away.

    "Well, we¡¯re going to have nap time now," Elara explains, her tone shifting back to a guiding calmness. "Only this time, when you close your eyes, I want you to focus on your breathing."

    Naomi¡¯s posture straightens, her hands unclenching slightly. She nods once, her movements slower, more deliberate now, as if she¡¯s beginning to see the shape of something important.

    "As you breathe in slowly," Elara continues, her voice gentle yet firm, "picture in your mind one of the people who have gone missing. Then breathe out slowly."

    Naomi inhales deeply, her small chest rising and falling, though there¡¯s a slight hesitation in the way she does it¡ªuncertainty, the edge of doubt.

    Del watches as she furrows her brows, adjusting her grip on her tunic as though trying to ground herself.

    Elara notices too.

    She leans in ever so slightly, keeping her voice steady.

    "Next breath, think of another one," she instructs. "Focus most on the people you know best and like the most."

    Naomi¡¯s fingers curl slightly, her breathing more measured now, her small frame tensing and then relaxing in intervals as she tries to follow along.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The crease in her forehead smooths out just a little, her previous fidgeting lessening, though there¡¯s still an air of nervous energy clinging to her.

    Elara pauses, watching, making sure she isn¡¯t pushing too hard.

    "You understand?"

    Naomi¡¯s eyelashes flutter, then she opens her eyes.

    There¡¯s still a flicker of uncertainty, but she nods¡ªslower this time, more sure of herself.

    "I think so."

    Elara smiles. "Good. Now, as you concentrate on your breathing and the people, you may find yourself floating or flying."

    Naomi blinks, startled.

    "Flying?" she repeats, uncertain.

    "Yes," Elara confirms. "It might feel like floating at first, like you¡¯re drifting in the air. Don¡¯t fight it. Let it happen. It can be fun once you get used to it."

    Naomi is completely transfixed now, her earlier hesitation replaced by fascination and the tiniest flicker of excitement.

    "Now," Elara leans in slightly, "when you¡¯re flying like this, you¡¯ll find that you can still talk. Just stay in the flying and tell us what you see."

    She meets Naomi¡¯s gaze, her next words spoken with absolute certainty.

    "This is what controlled Dreamwalking is all about."

    "Can I try it?" Naomi asks softly, her voice edged with both eagerness and a flicker of uncertainty.

    Elara nods but holds up a hand. "One last thing to learn first."

    Naomi¡¯s brow furrows slightly, but she listens intently.

    "When you sleep and dream, you wake up in the morning like always," Elara explains. "But when you do a nap-time dreamwalk, you need to have a signal to bring yourself back."

    Naomi tilts her head. "A signal?"

    Elara nods. "A trigger. Something to tell your mind it¡¯s time to leave the dream and return."

    She watches Naomi carefully, making sure she hasn¡¯t lost her yet. The girl¡¯s small nod of understanding is enough to continue.

    "Now, the signal or trigger can be anything¡ªyou could say a word, clap your hands, or snap your fingers. As long as you decide before you start, it will work."

    Naomi thinks for a moment, then frowns. "What happens if I don¡¯t have a trigger?"

    There¡¯s a faint crease of worry in her forehead now, a hesitation mirrored in Del¡¯s own gut.

    "Then you¡¯ll simply fall asleep and wake up normally, just like you do at night," Elara reassures her gently.

    Naomi¡¯s shoulders relax slightly, her anxious fidgeting easing. It seems to relieve the worry that had begun forming in her¡ª

    And, to be fair, in me, Del thinks grimly.

    Paolo, who has been listening in tight silence, finally speaks.

    "Is she in any danger doing this dreamwalking thing?"

    There¡¯s an edge to his voice, a lingering weariness behind the words¡ªbut also a quiet, growing protectiveness.

    Elara shakes her head, her expression calm but firm.

    "No, not really," she answers. "She will be walking the Astral, and while it can sometimes feel strange¡ªmaybe even scary¡ªit¡¯s no more harmful than a dream."

    Del isn¡¯t entirely convinced.

    ¡®Nightmares can be pretty damn scary places.¡¯

    A flicker of unease slithers through his thoughts.

    ¡®Are we sending a child into one?¡¯

    But Naomi doesn¡¯t seem troubled.

    In fact, she sits up straighter, tightening her grip on Elara¡¯s hand.

    "Can I try it now?" she asks. "I¡¯m not scared¡ªnot if you hold my hand."

    Elara¡¯s smile spreads, warm and steady, chasing away the lingering tension in the room.

    "Of course you can hold my hand, Naomi."

    She gives the girl¡¯s fingers a gentle squeeze.

    "And yes, we can try it now."

    Del and Paolo exchange a glance, then wordlessly begin rearranging the furniture.

    Paolo drags a chair over, placing it next to the chaise longue in the corner, while Del adds another two chairs for them to observe from.

    A cushion is added to the chaise for Naomi¡¯s comfort.

    She clambers onto the seat eagerly, shifting her small frame to settle in properly. But now, her movements are slower, more deliberate, as if the weight of the moment has finally settled on her shoulders.

    Her excitement is still there¡ªbright and humming beneath the surface¡ªbut for the first time, it is laced with something else.

    Understanding.

    This isn¡¯t just a game.

    Elara sits beside her, never letting go of Naomi¡¯s hand.

    For a brief moment, the room feels different.

    The sounds from outside¡ª**the faint murmur of villagers, the occasional clang of a hammer from the blacksmith¡¯s forge, the distant call of a trader¡ª**all seem to fade slightly.

    As if the space around them is holding its breath.

    Elara lets the stillness settle before she speaks.

    "Now," she begins, her voice a quiet thread in the hush, "as you start, you might feel a build-up of pressure here."

    She taps Naomi¡¯s chest lightly.

    Naomi blinks, then presses a small hand against the spot, as if expecting to feel something immediately.

    For a second¡ªnothing.

    Then, the barest flicker of warmth.

    A gentle stirring beneath her ribs, like the first ripples on the surface of a still pond.

    "That¡¯s your mana pool," Elara explains, "and it¡¯s what lets you dreamwalk."

    The words feel heavier somehow, like they hold something more than just knowledge¡ªlike they carry the weight of something ancient.

    Naomi keeps her hand pressed to her chest, her breath slowing slightly, as if she is beginning to sense it.

    Del watches as a small furrow of concentration appears between her brows.

    The air around them is still, charged with something he can¡¯t quite name.

    Elara continues, her tone both guiding and reassuring.

    "The pressure is normal with all magics," she says. "When you feel it, don¡¯t fight it. Just let it flow¡ª"

    She taps the side of Naomi¡¯s head.

    "¡ªUp to here. Let it fill the pictures you¡¯re imagining of the people who are missing. That¡¯s how you fly."

    Naomi¡¯s breathing deepens slightly, her small fingers curling slightly into the fabric of her tunic.

    She gives a slow, serious nod, absorbing each word as if they hold more weight than anything she¡¯s ever been told before.

    A faint shiver passes through Del¡ªnot from cold, but from something else entirely.

    Even Paolo, who had been watching with mild skepticism, has stopped fidgeting.

    They¡¯re all waiting. Watching.

    Elara¡¯s expression hardens slightly, her focus locking onto Naomi¡¯s.

    "And one last thing¡ªthis is important."

    She leans in, her voice lower now, steady and patient but firm.

    "Magic is not easy."

    Naomi¡¯s fingers twitch slightly.

    She doesn¡¯t blink.

    "Don¡¯t worry if you don¡¯t manage it straight away," Elara assures her. "It may take several tries before you learn control."

    Naomi presses her lips together, her small shoulders squaring with quiet determination.

    The room feels impossibly still.

    Quietly;

    A single, slow breath from Naomi.

    And the air seems to shift, just slightly.

    Del doesn¡¯t know what to expect.

    But he feels it¡ªthe collective holding of breath in the room, the way every small movement stills, as if even the air itself is waiting.

    The silence is not empty.

    It is heavy, thick with anticipation, pressing in around them like the moment before a storm breaks.

    The air seems thicker somehow, heavier, like they are all balanced on the edge of something uncertain.

    ¡®If she can manage at all, it¡¯s a big ask of a young child.¡¯

    A flicker of guilt tugs at him.

    ¡®We¡¯re placing so much on such tiny shoulders.¡¯

    But Naomi doesn¡¯t hesitate.

    She draws a breath, small but steady, the kind that fills space beyond her size.

    Her fingers tighten around Elara¡¯s, not in fear, but in resolve.

    She shifts slightly, giving a small determined wriggle to get comfortable, her tiny frame settling into the weight of the unknown.

    Then¡ª

    She closes her eyes.

    And the room waits.

    And waits.

    The stillness deepens, stretches, sharpens.

    Del swears the temperature shifts, a faint hum of something not-quite-there brushing against his skin.

    Even the faintest sound¡ªthe creak of wood, the whisper of breath¡ªis too loud.

    Elara doesn¡¯t move.

    Paolo doesn¡¯t move.

    No one breathes.

    Naomi¡¯s fingers twitch¡ªjust once.

 Chapter 42 â€“ Flying lessons

    The room had fallen into a hushed stillness, the kind that carried weight, as though even the air itself was watching. Paolo sat rigid, his concentration flickering between hope and fear, his fingers curled tight around the arm of his chair. If this worked, it could be the key to unravelling the disappearances that plagued Stonebridge. If it didn¡¯t, they would be no worse off¡ªbut no closer to answers.

    Del leaned forward slightly, eyes fixed on Naomi as she breathed in slow, measured intervals. The quiet settled into his bones, a lulling presence that threatened to dull the edges of his focus. His fingers brushed over the rough stubble on his chin.

    ¡®Beard needs a trim. I wonder if they have scissors.¡¯

    He hadn''t seen any, but then again, back home, he kept his own tucked away in a drawer. He blinked and forced his mind back to the present.

    ¡®Stay focused, Del.¡¯

    His gaze drifted to Elara, seated beside Naomi, her fingers wrapped around the child¡¯s small hand. The calm in her expression was almost unsettling, her stillness so absolute it felt as though she herself was slipping into meditation. Willing the girl to be a Dreamwalker.

    That was the question, wasn¡¯t it? Did Naomi truly have the gift? Her dreams could have been no more than that¡ªfragments of subconscious thought, twisted by hope and fear. Perhaps there was some prescience in them, but flashes of foresight weren¡¯t the same as controlled Dreamwalking.

    ¡®And what are you basing that on, mate? Shit from my own time?¡¯

    He exhaled through his nose.

    ¡®What real rationale do I have for assuming anything from the old place applies here? None. So shut the fuck up and watch.¡¯

    Then¡ªsomething.

    A flicker. A stirring deep in Del¡¯s gut, faint yet undeniable. It wasn¡¯t like Elara¡¯s magic¡ªthe gentle, familiar brush of a thousand tiny butterflies taking flight. This was different.

    This was raw.

    Naomi¡¯s magic stuttered, like a breath drawn in too sharply, then held too long. It sparked, shuddering within her, a hesitant pulse of power trying to take form, but faltering before it could settle. Del felt it¡ªa presence not quite fully shaped, like the first sluggish turn of a wheel in deep winter, the groan of something that should move freely but was stiff with inertia. The effort was there, the potential thrumming just beneath the surface, but the connection refused to catch.

    Naomi¡¯s brow furrowed, her small hands curling against her lap. Her breathing remained slow, controlled, but a fine tremor ran through her fingers. The magic inside her wasn¡¯t flowing yet¡ªit was stalling, spluttering against unseen resistance, like an ember buried too deep in cold ash, reluctant to ignite.

    Del leaned forward, his fingers twitching as if he could somehow reach into the moment, steady her, help her push past whatever barrier held her back.

    You¡¯re doing good, lass. Keep with it.

    The thought surfaced unbidden, slipping into the heavy stillness.

    Naomi¡¯s face remained placid, yet a subtle war waged beneath her skin. The tiniest shifts of expression betrayed her effort¡ªthe way her brow creased and smoothed again, the flutter of her lashes as she fought to hold focus. The tension built, a coiling pressure in the air, stretching the moment thin.

    Then¡ª

    A sharp intake of breath.

    Her entire body jerked as if struck by an unseen force, and she gasped, bolting upright.

    ¡°I can¡¯t do it, Elara.¡± Her voice quivered, barely above a whisper. ¡°I can see them in my head, but I¡¯m scared.¡±

    A single tear slipped down her cheek, catching the dim light as it fell.

    Elara moved without hesitation, sliding from her chair to kneel on the floor, wrapping the girl in a gentle embrace.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright, Naomi,¡± she murmured, her voice a steadying thread in the uncertainty. One hand stroked through the child¡¯s dark curls, fingers threading through the tension held there. ¡°Magic can be scary at first, but you have it¡ªI felt it in you.¡± She eased back just enough to meet Naomi¡¯s eyes. ¡°You just need to trust yourself.¡±

    Naomi sniffled, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand.

    Elara shifted, settling onto the seat behind her and guiding the girl¡¯s small frame back against her lap.

    ¡°I¡¯m right here with you,¡± she promised. ¡°I¡¯ll protect you. Do you want to try again?¡±

    For a long moment, Naomi said nothing. Then, with a final, decisive sniff, she dragged a hand across her damp cheeks, rubbed her nose, and gave a small, firm nod.

    Once again, she closed her eyes.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    And breathed.

    In. Out. In. Out. In¡­

    In his gut, Del felt it again¡ªthat tiny butterfly. But this time, there was no hesitation, no faltering beat. Its wings stretched wide, dry and steady, and with a sudden, exultant pulse¡ª

    A rush.

    The air in the room seemed to tighten, charged with something unseen yet unmistakable. Naomi¡¯s breath hitched, then released, and in that instant, it was as if the space around them shifted, just slightly. A ripple in reality.

    The magic surged¡ªnot chaotic, not wild, but deliberate. Focused. It poured through her like a river finally breaking through ice, flowing free and unimpeded. The moment stretched, stretched¡ª

    Then settled.

    Naomi¡¯s lips parted in quiet astonishment, her small frame still as though she feared the slightest movement might break the spell. The light in her eyes was something new, something changed.

    Elara¡¯s smile was slow, filled with a quiet satisfaction. She had known.

    Del exhaled, barely realising he¡¯d been holding his breath. Success.

    The sensation ebbed, drifting away like ripples fading on still water, and Naomi slowly opened her eyes.

    ¡°I flew,¡± she whispered, the awe in her voice fragile, reverent, like something too precious to say aloud.

    Elara nodded, her voice warm with encouragement. ¡°You sure did.¡± She squeezed Naomi¡¯s hand gently. ¡°And now that you know you can fly, you just need to learn how to control where to go.¡± Tilting her head slightly, she asked, ¡°What did you see while you were flying?¡±

    Naomi frowned slightly, concentrating, her small mouth pressing into a thoughtful line.

    ¡°It was strange,¡± she murmured. ¡°I was in here, but looking down¡ªso I guess I was up by the ceiling.¡± A grin broke through her uncertainty. ¡°I could see all of you, and you were funny colours.¡±

    Elara leaned in slightly. ¡°What do you mean by different colours?¡±

    Naomi nibbled at the tip of her finger as she thought. ¡°You were all sort of wobbly, and there were shiny rings around you.¡±

    Elara¡¯s expression brightened. ¡°Those are auras. That¡¯s good¡ªbecause you can use auras to find people. Do you remember what they looked like?¡±

    Naomi nodded quickly. ¡°Yes! Yours was sort of green, and the elder¡¯s was dark blue.¡± She paused, then turned to Del, studying him with quiet curiosity.

    ¡°Yours was strange,¡± she said, eyes narrowing in thought. ¡°It was red, but it kept changing¡ªdark to light, bright to dim.¡± She giggled. ¡°It was funny.¡±

    Del smirked.

    ¡®Elara¡¯s aura being green makes sense. No idea about the meaning of colours in this sort of thing, but I guess blue is good.¡¯

    His brow furrowed slightly as he considered the last one.

    ¡®Red, huh? Well, well. Probably just means I¡¯m a confirmed shit magnet.¡¯

    Del exhaled through his nose, shaking off the thought.

    ¡®The key thing is, can she find Vita and the others?¡¯

    He offered Naomi a lopsided grin. ¡°I¡¯m okay with being red. My cat¡¯s a ginge, so I might as well be a red¡¯n too.¡±

    Naomi giggled at that, her earlier apprehension melting away, but Elara gently guided them back to the task at hand.

    ¡°Alright then,¡± she said, her voice steady and grounding. ¡°Now we need you to fly outside this room, outside the house, and take a little fly around the village. Get used to how it feels.¡±

    Naomi nodded but hesitated, her small brows knitting together. ¡°How do I do that? I was just floating before.¡±

    Elara smiled reassuringly. ¡°That¡¯s true, but in the astral, you can go anywhere. Just look in the direction you want to go and¡ª¡± she waved a hand in a small, circular motion, ¡°¡ªthink or imagine yourself moving there. Since it¡¯s not your body but your mind, you can just fly through walls and things as if they aren¡¯t there.¡±

    Naomi¡¯s eyes widened slightly at that, as though the idea of passing through solid matter had only just occurred to her. She nodded again, slower this time, absorbing the instructions.

    Del glanced at Paolo and noted how the elder had leaned forward, his entire demeanour caught between wonder and apprehension. No doubt he was as new to this as Del himself.

    Elara continued, ensuring Naomi was still following. ¡°As you explore, if you look behind you, you¡¯ll see a silver line connecting you back to this house. That¡¯s your tether¡ªit always leads you home.¡±

    Naomi¡¯s head tilted slightly. ¡°Like a string?¡±

    Elara nodded. ¡°Exactly. It¡¯s a part of you, so no matter how far you go, you¡¯ll always be able to follow it back.¡±

    Del noted the way Paolo was absorbing every word as keenly as Naomi, his fingers tight around the arms of his chair. There was something hovering in his expression¡ªsomething unspoken but tangible.

    ¡°Is this safe?¡± Paolo asked at last, his voice quiet but weighted.

    Elara met his gaze, calm and unwavering. ¡°As safe as sleeping.¡±

    Paolo exhaled slowly, nodding, but his grip on the chair didn¡¯t loosen.

    Naomi fidgeted slightly, running her fingers along her sleeve. ¡°It feels¡­ funny,¡± she admitted after a moment. ¡°Like I¡¯m too light, like I might float away even though I¡¯m still here.¡± She pressed a hand against her chest. ¡°And my belly feels like when I go really high on a swing and come back down really fast.¡±

    Del gave a slow blink.

    ¡®That¡¯s¡­ an unsettling thought.¡¯

    He wasn¡¯t sure he liked the idea of this tiny girl being untethered from reality, no matter how much they insisted it was safe.

    ¡®You don¡¯t just drift out of yourself. That¡¯s not how things work.¡¯

    Only, clearly, it was.

    He shifted uncomfortably, rubbing his knuckles against the grain of his trousers.

    ¡°What about when you first started floating?¡± Elara prompted gently.

    Naomi¡¯s expression scrunched slightly in thought. ¡°At first, it was scary. I felt like I was stuck in-between¡ªnot here, not there. But then it was like¡­ like stepping onto a cloud, and I just knew I wasn¡¯t going to fall.¡± She glanced up, hesitating. ¡°Even though I thought I might.¡±

    Paolo sucked in a breath, his jaw tightening. Del caught the flicker of protective instinct in his expression¡ªthe same kind that had been there when Naomi had faltered the first time.

    ¡°That¡¯s why it¡¯s important to practise,¡± Elara reassured them both. ¡°The more you do it, the easier it will be to stay grounded.¡±

    Del frowned. ¡°Grounded? She¡¯s literally floating through the bloody air.¡±

    Elara shot him a look, equal parts amusement and exasperation. ¡°You know what I mean.¡±

    Naomi grinned, amused by their exchange, then sobered again as she let out a breath, her small hands pressing against her lap. ¡°So¡­ if I see something scary, I can just come back?¡±

    Elara nodded. ¡°Yes. Just use your trigger, and you¡¯ll return in an instant.¡±

    Naomi considered that, then nodded firmly, as if steeling herself.

    Paolo cleared his throat. ¡°And there¡¯s nothing¡­ out there? Nothing that could¡ª¡± He hesitated, his fingers flexing against the arm of his chair. ¡°Nothing that could follow her back?¡±

    Elara was silent for a beat too long. Not long enough for Naomi to notice, but Del caught it.

    ¡°There shouldn¡¯t be,¡± she said carefully.

    That wasn¡¯t exactly the reassurance Del had been hoping for.

    Paolo¡¯s jaw twitched, but he said nothing, just gave a stiff nod.

    Elara clapped her hands lightly, bringing the focus back. ¡°Alright, Naomi. Are you ready?¡±

    Naomi took a deep breath, her small frame rising with the effort.

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    Elara gave her an encouraging nod. ¡°And this time, try to tell us what you¡¯re seeing as you fly.¡±

    Naomi closed her eyes.

    And let go.

 Chapter 43 â€“ Following a trail

    Naomi settled deeper into Elara¡¯s lap, her small fingers curling tightly around the woman¡¯s hand as she closed her eyes. The hush in the room thickened, wrapping around them like a held breath.

    Del felt it immediately¡ªthat same flicker deep in his gut. But this time, it was stronger, more sure of itself, like an ember catching properly for the first time. The room felt heavier, the hush wrapping around them like the held breath of the world itself.

    Naomi¡¯s lips parted slightly, and when she spoke, her voice was hushed, filled with awe.

    ¡°I¡¯m outside¡­ Wow, the market is like a sparkly fairyland.¡±

    Elara¡¯s fingers brushed lightly through her hair, grounding her. ¡°What do you see?¡±

    Naomi let out a breathless giggle. ¡°The people are all blue. Lots of different blues, all sort of glowing. Some are bright, some are pale, some are all fuzzy like they¡¯re not quite here.¡±

    Del frowned slightly. That¡¯s new. ¡°What do you mean, fuzzy?¡±

    Naomi hummed in thought. ¡°Like they¡¯re only halfway here. Some flicker, like candle flames when there¡¯s wind. Others are really strong and bright, and when they talk, their colours sort of¡­ mix together for a second.¡±

    Paolo raised an eyebrow. ¡°Mix?¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± Naomi¡¯s voice was gaining excitement. ¡°Like¡­ look, when those two people are talking¡ªooh, that¡¯s funny¡ªwhen they laugh, their blue goes all wiggly and pink! And when that lady over there gets mad, her colour gets all pointy and red! That¡¯s weird.¡±

    Del exchanged a glance with Elara. He¡¯d seen plenty of odd things in his time here, but seeing emotions as colours? That was a whole new level of strange.

    Naomi suddenly let out a delighted giggle. ¡°I can see where Nate is hiding from the others¡­ he¡¯s in that bush, you doughnuts.¡±

    Paolo exhaled sharply through his nose. Del caught the flicker of amusement in his expression before he rubbed a hand over his face.

    ¡°That little sod,¡± Paolo muttered. ¡°He always swears he¡¯s the best at hiding.¡±

    Naomi¡¯s head turned slightly, her expression shifting. ¡°Ooooh, Donna¡¯s out shopping.¡±

    Elara perked up. ¡°What¡¯s she doing?¡±

    Naomi scrunched her nose. ¡°She¡¯s buying onions.¡± A beat. ¡°Lots of onions.¡±

    Paolo sighed. ¡°That means stew again.¡±

    Naomi kept watching. ¡°Her colours are kinda yellowy, but when she looks at the butcher¡¯s stall, it turns a little green.¡± She giggled. ¡°I think she doesn¡¯t like the meat.¡±

    ¡°She probably doesn¡¯t like the price,¡± Del muttered.

    Naomi continued scanning the marketplace, her excitement bubbling through. ¡°Oh! That man just tried to take an apple from the stall, but¡ªha! The stall keeper saw him and now he¡¯s going all purple! He¡¯s scared!¡±

    Del shook his head. So not only can she see emotions, but she can tell when someone¡¯s about to get a bollocking? That was a bloody useful trick.

    Naomi giggled again, shifting slightly in Elara¡¯s lap. ¡°I¡¯m going to look at what Mummy is doing,¡± she announced gleefully.

    A pause.

    Then¡ª

    ¡°There she is! What¡¯s she doing with Mr Tyler?¡±

    Del barely suppressed a laugh. Paolo turned his head sharply, lips pressing together, but the slight shake of his shoulders betrayed his efforts to hold it in.

    Naomi gasped. ¡°Ooooh, she must have got her shirt dirty because Mr Tyler is helping her take it off!¡±

    Del choked on nothing. Paolo wheezed, and Elara let out the softest sigh of pure, resigned patience.

    ¡°Naomi,¡± she said smoothly, ¡°I think you should move on.¡±

    Naomi let out a disappointed little sigh but didn¡¯t argue.

    Paolo was still choking into his fist, his shoulders shaking with the effort of not laughing outright. Del, for his part, could barely keep his face neutral.

    Naomi huffed dramatically. ¡°Fine,¡± she muttered. ¡°But Mummy¡¯s colours are all pink and wiggly now.¡±

    Paolo lost it, coughing to cover his laugh.

    Del didn¡¯t even try to hide his grin.

    Elara just sighed again, rubbing her temple.

    Elara waited a moment before guiding her forward. ¡°Now, do you know the way to Vita¡¯s home?¡±

    The mood in the room shifted. The laughter softened into something quieter, more focused.

    Naomi nodded, her face turning serious, mirroring the expressions of both Paolo and Del.

    ¡°I want you to go that way and think hard about her,¡± Elara instructed gently. She hesitated for a moment, choosing her next words carefully. ¡°Did you see your silver thread?¡±

    A small nod.

    Elara gave an approving hum. ¡°Good. As you get to her home and think hard about her, you are looking for another thread. It may be greenish, like mine.¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    The room fell into a still silence, only the faintest rustle of cloth marking Del shifting forward in his seat. The air around them felt thick, as though charged with something unseen.

    Time stretched, seconds slipping by at an agonising pace.

    Del clenched his fists unconsciously.

    You go, girl. I know you can do this.

    But the thought carried weight.

    Please let her do this.

    Naomi¡¯s small features remained perfectly still, but then¡ª

    ¡°I see her house,¡± she breathed, a bright smile breaking across her face. ¡°It¡¯s all glowy.¡±

    Del exhaled slowly. The tension in his chest didn¡¯t quite ease.

    Elara returned Naomi¡¯s smile with one of her own. ¡°It looks like magic, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    Naomi gave an eager nod.

    ¡°Can you see her thread?¡±

    Her brows knitted together slightly, and Del saw the minute shift in her head as if she were physically scanning her surroundings.

    ¡°I think I do,¡± she said at last. ¡°It¡¯s all sort of a light yellow-green, but it¡¯s all twisted up with black.¡±

    A pause.

    A small, sharp intake of breath.

    ¡°That black seems bad.¡± Her voice was smaller now, uncertain. ¡°Angry.¡±

    Del felt his jaw tighten, his nails digging into his palms where his fists had clenched.

    This can¡¯t be good.

    But it confirms she was taken.

    Elara¡¯s hand squeezed Naomi¡¯s gently, her voice quiet but firm. ¡°You are doing very well, Naomi.¡±

    The reassurance didn¡¯t break the tension, but it softened it.

    ¡°Remember that you are safe here with us,¡± she continued. ¡°This is just like a dream.¡±

    Naomi swallowed. The worry in her face didn¡¯t vanish, but something in her posture shifted¡ªshe squared her shoulders, a flicker of determination settling in.

    She gave a little nod.

    And then, with the smallest furrow of her brow, she whispered¡ª

    ¡°I¡¯m going to go find Vita.¡±

    Del glanced at Paolo.

    Paolo looked back.

    And in that silent exchange, both knew¡ª

    It was exactly as they had feared.

    Del gave him a small, grim nod before turning back to the girl in Elara¡¯s lap.

    And waited.

    Del exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay still. The air in the room felt thick, oppressive with tension.

    ¡°What way is her thread going?¡± he asked, his voice deliberately low.

    Elara flashed him a look, a silent warning not to interrupt and risk disturbing Naomi¡¯s fragile connection.

    Naomi, however, responded without hesitation, her voice steady.

    ¡°It¡¯s going into the woods. East. Towards the woods that way.¡±

    Del¡¯s eyes flicked to Paolo, questioning.

    ¡°The only thing out that way is the old quarry,¡± Paolo murmured, his brow furrowing. ¡°But that hasn¡¯t been used for generations.¡± A pause. ¡°Beyond that, it¡¯s just wildlands till you get to the Dwarven mountains.¡±

    A quarry. That triggered a memory, someone had mentioned seeing lights flickering near the old quarry

    ¡®¡®Is is related?¡¯ Del didn¡¯t like that idea.

    ¡®Too many places to hide. Too many places to fall. Too many places to bury things.¡¯

    Elara¡¯s voice remained calm, guiding Naomi. ¡°Does it follow a path at all?¡±

    Naomi¡¯s expression shifted slightly, as if considering. Then, a small, almost triumphant smile.

    ¡°Yes, it follows it.¡±

    Elara gave her a reassuring nod. ¡°Alright, Naomi. I want you to follow Vita¡¯s thread, but do it carefully and slowly. Tell us anything you see that¡¯s odd, but try not to lose sight of it.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± she agreed, her voice firmer now, but there was a slight tremor beneath the resolve.

    The tension in the room was suffocating.

    Del¡¯s hands curled into fists, resting on his thighs. His body was rigid, every muscle held taut like a coiled spring. This was torture. They were relying on the words of a child to paint them a picture of something they couldn¡¯t see, couldn¡¯t react to, couldn¡¯t fight.

    It was a helpless, useless feeling, and Del hated it.

    ¡®It¡¯s like listening to a badly directed radio play.¡¯

    He grumbled internally, jaw clenched.

    ¡®Too many breaks in dialogue and no sound effects.¡¯

    A slow exhale. His fingers twitched with the urge to do something¡ªto act¡ªbut there was nowhere to go, nothing to chase.

    All they could do was wait.

    And hope.

    Seconds stretched like hours. The air felt thick, charged with something unseen, like a storm waiting to break. Each heartbeat echoed loud in the silence.

    Then¡ª

    ¡°There are rocks ahead,¡± Naomi murmured suddenly, her words slicing through the stillness like a blade. ¡°And a hole in the ground.¡±

    Del straightened, instinct prickling at the back of his neck.

    ¡°That must be the quarry,¡± Elara told her, her voice steady, though Del caught the faint shift in her posture, the flicker of concern just beneath the surface.

    ¡°Can you see anything there?¡±

    Naomi¡¯s small head moved slightly, scanning. A moment¡¯s hesitation. Then, a tiny shake.

    ¡°Not from here¡­ but the thread goes into the hole.¡± A pause. ¡°It goes down. Down to the bottom.¡±

    A deep breath.

    ¡°This place feels bad.¡±

    The words sent a slow chill creeping up Del¡¯s spine. Of course it did.

    Elara¡¯s fingers squeezed Naomi¡¯s gently, an anchor against the weight of what she was seeing. ¡°You don¡¯t have to go further if you don¡¯t want to.¡±

    Naomi¡¯s lips pressed into a firm line. A small but deliberate shake of her head.

    ¡°No,¡± she said, her voice small but unyielding. ¡°I have to find Vita.¡±

    Del swallowed hard, his throat tight. She was braver than most grown men he knew.

    Naomi¡¯s breath hitched slightly. ¡°I¡¯m at the bottom,¡± she continued, her fingers curling in Elara¡¯s hand. Though her body remained still, Del could feel it¡ªthe way she must be standing there, small and fragile at the base of something vast, something hollow.

    ¡°There¡¯s a tunnel. I¡¯m going to look.¡±

    Elara¡¯s voice was quiet, but rich with warmth. ¡°You are being very brave.¡±

    Naomi didn¡¯t respond right away.

    The silence between her breaths stretched.

    ¡°It¡¯s dark in here.¡± A slight pause. ¡°But¡­ I can still see.¡±

    A flicker of confusion passed over her face.

    ¡°I can¡¯t normally see in the dark.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re in the astral,¡± Elara explained. ¡°It has its own sort of light, or so I¡¯ve been told.¡±

    Naomi nodded slightly, absorbing that. Then¡ª

    ¡°I can still see her thread,¡± she murmured, but her tone had changed. The words slowed, like she was seeing something she didn¡¯t quite understand. ¡°There are a lot of other blue threads here, too.¡±

    A small, sharp intake of breath.

    ¡°But the black one is bigger.¡±

    A hesitation.

    ¡°Stronger.¡±

    A gulp.

    ¡°Meaner.¡±

    Del¡¯s breath stalled.

    A strange pressure crept into his chest, curling low in his ribs.

    ¡®Not good. Not good at all.¡¯

    Even without seeing her, he could feel the moment Naomi gathered up her courage, steeling herself before pressing forward.

    A slow exhale.

    ¡°I can see lights up ahead.¡±

    A pause.

    ¡°Like torches.¡±

    A flicker of hope stirred in Del¡¯s chest. If there were lights, there were people.

    But then Naomi¡¯s expression changed.

    The tiny shift in her breathing. The way her fingers tensed, just slightly, against Elara¡¯s.

    ¡°Someone is crying.¡±

    Barely above a whisper.

    Her grip tightened.

    ¡°I can hear someone crying.¡±

    Del¡¯s stomach knotted. A deep, curling unease settled over him.

    Paolo¡¯s fingers twitched where they rested on his knee.

    Elara stroked Naomi¡¯s hand, her voice low, calm. ¡°You¡¯re doing so well, Naomi.¡±

    But Naomi¡¯s grip didn¡¯t loosen.

    If anything, it tightened.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to go see.¡±

    Silence.

    The kind of silence that hurt.

    The kind that pressed against your ribs, tight and suffocating.

    The kind that felt like something was waiting.

    Watching.

    They all waited, breath held, frozen in place.

    A child, wandering the dark, searching for answers only she could se

    Then¡ª

    A strangled gasp.

    Naomi¡¯s tiny body jolted.

    A scream ripped from her throat, sharp and raw, slicing through the thick air like a blade.

    She bolted upright, her small frame twisting as if trying to escape something unseen, and in the same breath, she spun round and threw herself into Elara¡¯s arms, gripping her in a desperate, terrified hug.

    Her entire body trembled violently.

    Her breath came in sharp, ragged sobs.

    The words that tumbled from her lips sent an ice-cold shudder through Del¡¯s spine.

    ¡°The Night Man¡­ He saw me!¡±

    Then¡ª

    Her body slumped.

    She went limp against Elara, her breath shuddering once before fading into the eerie stillness of unconsciousness.

 Chapter 44 â€“ A bitter consolation

    ¡°What the hell happened?¡±

    Del surged to his feet, his chair scraping harshly against the floor as he moved. He was across the room in an instant, dropping to his knees beside Naomi, his heart hammering against his ribs.

    Her small frame lay limp against Elara¡¯s lap, her face pale, her breath shallow.

    Without thinking, Del grasped her wrist, his fingers pressing against the delicate skin.

    ¡®What the hell am I even checking for? I wouldn¡¯t know a pulse if it leapt up and bit my arse.¡¯

    He clenched his jaw, shaking off the useless thought. She was breathing¡ªhe could see that¡ªbut it didn¡¯t stop the cold coil of dread tightening in his chest.

    Paolo was at his side in a heartbeat, hovering, his voice tight with barely restrained urgency. ¡°I thought you said she would be safe.¡±

    Elara¡¯s usually composed face was drawn, her lips pressed into a thin line. She brushed her fingers lightly over Naomi¡¯s forehead as if grounding her, her voice quiet but shaken. ¡°She should have been.¡±

    The words did nothing to ease the thick, choking tension in the room.

    Del¡¯s eyes snapped to her, frustration burning hot beneath his skin. ¡°Then why the hell did she scream like she was being ripped apart?¡±

    Elara exhaled, shaking her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she admitted, and that in itself was unnerving. ¡°In the astral, it¡¯s only her mind that travels. Nothing should be aware of her¡ªexcept for another astral being. And those are incredibly rare.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Del bit out, his voice sharp, ¡°it looks like this Night Man can bloody well see astral stuff because he saw her.¡±

    The words hung heavy in the air.

    Elara hesitated. A flicker of doubt crossed her face¡ªDel could see it. The gears in her mind turning, reassessing, trying to make sense of something that shouldn¡¯t have happened.

    ¡°Maybe¡­ maybe not,¡± she said slowly, though the words lacked confidence. ¡°We won¡¯t know for certain until Naomi wakes up. She isn¡¯t physically harmed¡ªI think she just¡­ fainted. She was terrified, and she rushed her return after a prolonged astral journey.¡±

    Del narrowed his eyes. ¡°And you think that¡¯s all it was?¡±

    Elara¡¯s fingers stroked Naomi¡¯s hair absently, her gaze distant. ¡°It¡¯s possible she imagined him looking at her.¡±

    Del barked out a humourless laugh, the sound harsh and hollow. ¡°Imagined?¡± His hand tightened into a fist against his knee. ¡°Elara, she screamed. Not a little frightened yelp¡ªshe screamed like she was looking into the bloody void.¡±

    Paolo exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. ¡°And passed out cold a second later.¡± He looked at Elara, his tone uncharacteristically grim. ¡°You think she just panicked herself unconscious?¡±

    Elara¡¯s lips parted, but no words came.

    The silence stretched too long.

    Then, finally, she sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she admitted, the frustration clear in her voice. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like this.¡±

    Del sat back slightly, his mind racing.

    The implications were bad.

    Very bad.

    If the Night Man had actually seen Naomi¡ªif he had recognised her¡ªwhat did that mean? Could he track her? Could he follow her back?

    His stomach churned at the thought.

    Paolo seemed to have followed the same line of thinking. ¡°If he could see her¡­¡± He trailed off, rubbing at his jaw. ¡°Can he see us?¡±

    Elara frowned. ¡°That¡¯s not how the astral works.¡±

    Paolo gave her a flat look. ¡°Right. And yet, here we are.¡±

    Another beat of silence.

    Del exhaled slowly, forcing himself to think practically. ¡°Alright,¡± he said, rubbing a hand over his face. ¡°Let¡¯s assume for a second she wasn¡¯t imagining it. What the hell does that mean for us?¡±

    Elara shook her head. ¡°If he¡¯s an astral entity, we shouldn¡¯t be in danger unless we travel the astral ourselves.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Del arched a brow. ¡°And what if he¡¯s not?¡±

    That brought another pause.

    Paolo¡¯s gaze darkened. ¡°If he¡¯s not just some astral ghost, and he¡¯s got one foot in our world¡ª¡±

    ¡°Then he could be watching us right now,¡± Del finished grimly.

    A chill ran through the room.

    Elara shook her head again, firmer this time. ¡°No. No, that¡¯s unlikely. If he were able to manifest here, we¡¯d know.¡±

    Del wasn¡¯t sure he shared that confidence.

    Paolo¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line. His fingers twitched where they hovered near his belt, as if resisting the urge to grab his sword.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    "I¡¯m rounding up the militia," he announced, voice taut with tension. "I think we have a visit to the quarry to undertake."

    Del clenched his jaw. His instinct screamed at him to act, to move, to do something¡ªbut not knowing what they were walking into put a bitter taste in his mouth.

    "Gather your troops, Paolo," he said, keeping his voice even. "But hold off until we hear what she has to say."

    Paolo hesitated for a fraction of a second. Del saw it¡ªsaw the way his hands curled into loose fists, saw the flicker of something calculating behind his eyes. A fight between immediate action and necessary patience.

    Then, with a short, sharp nod, he relented. "Aye. But not for long."

    He turned on his heel and strode out, boots thudding harder against the wooden floor than necessary.

    The door swung shut behind him, leaving behind an uneasy silence.

    Del exhaled, forcing his shoulders to loosen as he turned back to Elara. ¡°Do you know what happened?¡± His voice had lost its earlier edge, though the knot of tension remained buried deep in his chest.

    Elara shook her head, guilt etched into the delicate lines of her face. ¡°No. And I feel terrible that it went like this. I just hope¡­¡± She trailed off, her gaze flickering to Naomi¡¯s small, limp form. ¡°I hope it doesn¡¯t have a lasting effect on her ability. Dreamwalkers are rare.¡±

    Del¡¯s stomach twisted.

    Forget her talent, she¡¯s just a kid.

    He pushed the thought aside, his voice gentler now. ¡°She¡¯ll be okay.¡± The reassurance sounded firmer than he felt. The truth was, he blamed himself as much as he blamed the Night Man.

    I shouldn¡¯t have agreed to this.

    His fingers raked through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp in a futile attempt to shake off the weight pressing down on him.

    ¡®But she did it, didn¡¯t she? We know where they are.¡¯

    It was a bitter consolation, a justification that felt thin and hollow.

    Elara settled into the chair beside Naomi, and Del followed suit, their conversation slipping into quieter tones as they pieced through what had happened, sharing their thoughts, questioning what they knew.

    ¡°The way her mana surged¡­¡± Elara said, glancing at the girl. ¡°It was so much faster than mine ever was.¡±

    Del frowned. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Elara¡¯s fingers traced idle patterns on the wooden armrest. ¡°Most elves don¡¯t unlock any magical potential until at least their late teens. In my case, I was twenty-three. But Naomi is so young¡­ if her abilities are this strong already, it could mean significant power ahead.¡± A pause. ¡°Or an early burnout.¡±

    Del studied Naomi¡¯s peaceful face, her breath slow and steady. She looked so small, so impossibly fragile, curled into herself like this.

    And he had no bloody idea what it all meant.

    Elara¡¯s frown deepened, her fingers tapping absently against the armrest. ¡°Once her mana broke through, it just surged,¡± she murmured, shaking her head. ¡°There was nothing gentle about it. It was almost violent in how it grew, and that scared me a bit.¡±

    Del studied her face, the flickers of unease plain in her eyes.

    ¡°She needs a proper trainer.¡± Elara¡¯s gaze met his directly, the weight behind her words pressing down like lead. ¡°Even more than I do. And a lot faster, or she may harm herself with uncontrolled mana feedback.¡±

    Del shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°I take it that¡¯s not a good thing.¡±

    ¡®Stop stating the bloody obvious, you twat.¡¯

    Elara¡¯s mouth twitched¡ªnot quite amusement, more like weary exasperation. ¡°No. Definitely not.¡± She exhaled, her arms crossing as if bracing herself. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen it happen, but from what I¡¯ve read, at its worst, it can leave someone¡¯s mind completely scrambled.¡±

    Del sucked in a slow breath through his teeth. That wasn¡¯t a risk he was willing to take.

    ¡°So does that mean she needs to stop doing this until she gets training?¡± He reached out instinctively, resting his hands over Naomi¡¯s small ones where they lay atop Elara¡¯s lap.

    ¡°No,¡± Elara answered, glancing at him again. ¡°If anything, the opposite. The more she practices, the better control she¡¯ll have over her mana. But until she gets trained, the risk is always going to be there.¡±

    Del hated that. The idea of a child¡ªthis child¡ªwalking a knife¡¯s edge with something so dangerous didn¡¯t sit right with him. But what choice did they have? It wasn¡¯t as if they could put her back in a box and pretend none of this had happened.

    The room fell into silence again, thick with waiting.

    Del exhaled slowly, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of Naomi¡¯s chest.

    The quiet stretched on. Too long.

    Then¡ª

    A twitch. A tiny flicker of lashes.

    Del stiffened. His heart gave an uncomfortable jolt.

    Her fingers twitched, curled slightly¡ªlike grasping for something unseen.

    Then, with a sharp, gasping inhale, she bolted upright.

    Her eyes were wide, wild, darting around the room as though searching for something she had lost.

    Del barely had time to react before she turned and collapsed into Elara, her small frame trembling violently against her.

    Elara wrapped her arms around her, murmuring soft reassurances into her hair.

    Naomi¡¯s breathing was ragged, uneven.

    Then, after a long, shuddering exhale, she finally spoke.

    "He saw me."

    The words were quiet.

    But the weight behind them was deafening.

    A chill ran down Del¡¯s spine, but he kept his face steady. ¡°Tell us everything,¡± he said, keeping his tone as gentle as his naturally gruff voice would allow.

    ¡®In the beginning, there was a big flash, and stars rushed out¡­¡¯

    ¡®Shut the fuck up, Del.¡¯

    Naomi nodded, pulling herself together with a small, determined shift of her shoulders.

    ¡°I was going down the tunnel¡ªthe one at the bottom of the big hole in the ground,¡± she confirmed, her voice steady despite the weight of what she was saying. ¡°It was spooky, but I wasn¡¯t scared. Not like Nate when he got locked in the feed shed.¡± She nodded to herself, reinforcing her own bravery.

    Del bit back the urge to tell her to get on with it. She needed to tell this in her own way, at her own pace.

    ¡®It¡¯s her story, her trauma. Let her tell it.¡¯

    ¡°So,¡± Naomi continued, settling in more comfortably, "There were lights ahead," she continued, voice soft, eyes distant. "Flickering like reed torches, but they weren¡¯t steady. The whole place felt... thick. Like the air wasn¡¯t moving right."

    She shifted, fidgeting as though she could still feel it.

    "I heard crying," Naomi added, "but it was¡­ weird. Like someone trying to hide it. Like when someone covers their mouth so nobody hears." She hesitated, then pressed on.

    ¡°I looked around the corner. There was a big room, with pillars and stuff. A fire in the middle, making everything all smoky and hazy. I saw Emily¡ªshe was crying. And Vita¡­¡± Her voice wavered. ¡°Vita was lying down. I think she was asleep or something.¡±

    A sharp breath. A barely-there quiver of her lip. She shuddered, her hands gripping Elara¡¯s arm tighter.

    Del clenched his jaw.

    "Then I felt it."

    The room was deathly still as Del and Elara took in her words.

    "Something was looking at me. I didn¡¯t see it at first, but I knew."

    Del exhaled slowly, the hair on his arms standing on end.

    "I turned around¡­" Her voice wavered. "And he was there. The Night Man. And he was coming right at me."

    Her voice rose in pitch, panic creeping back into the edges of her words.

    Del could almost see it¡ªthe towering shadow bearing down on her, the terror of being seen by something that shouldn¡¯t have been able to see her.

    ¡°I clapped my hands, and the next thing I knew, I was back here with all of you.¡± Her breathing was uneven, like she was only just realising what had happened. Her eyes flickered around the room, searching.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the elder?¡± she asked, confused. ¡°I thought he was staying while I looked for Vita.¡±

    Elara and Del exchanged glances.

    She didn¡¯t remember collapsing. Didn¡¯t remember the sheer terror of her scream or the way she had passed out the moment she¡¯d returned.

    Del exhaled slowly, his gut coiling with unease.

    They had their answer.

    Now, they had to decide what the hell to do with it.

 Chapter 45 â€“ Not alone

    Naomi looked up into Elara¡¯s eyes, searching, her small fingers twisting into the fabric of her tunic. ¡°Was I brave? Did I do it right?¡±

    Elara¡¯s response was immediate. She pulled Naomi into a tight embrace, arms wrapped protectively around the child. ¡°Yes, Naomi. You were very brave, and you did an amazing job.¡± Her voice was soft but firm, a steady warmth against the lingering echoes of fear in the girl¡¯s expression.

    She pressed a kiss to the top of Naomi¡¯s head. ¡°You are a truly incredible young Dreamwalker, and I bet you¡¯re the bravest girl in all of Stonebridge.¡±

    Naomi let out a delighted giggle, a bright sound that cut through the tension still clinging to the air. Del watched as the last traces of fear melted away from her small frame, replaced by the quiet pride of someone who had done something important.

    ¡°Braver than Nate,¡± she declared confidently, straightening her shoulders before hopping off Elara¡¯s lap.

    Del smirked. ¡°That¡¯s not a high bar, lass.¡±

    Naomi ignored him, already bouncing on her heels. ¡°Can I go home now? It¡¯s getting late, and Mummy will want me home for supper.¡±

    He nodded. ¡°Aye, straight home now. No getting sidetracked, you hear?¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t!¡± she promised, already halfway to the door.

    Elara¡¯s lips parted as if to say something, but she hesitated, watching Naomi¡¯s retreating figure.

    ¡°Be careful, Naomi,¡± she finally called after her, her voice softer, more worried than she probably intended.

    Naomi just waved over her shoulder and disappeared out the door, her footsteps fading into the growing noise of the town outside.

    Del exhaled, only now realising just how much tension had coiled through his body. He stretched, rolling his shoulders, grimacing as something cracked in his spine. Damn, I was wound up tighter than I thought.

    He offered his hand to Elara, helping her up from the couch.

    ¡°We need to go see Paolo,¡± he said, his tone shifting from the warmth of Naomi¡¯s farewell to something colder, more focused.

    Elara nodded, her expression already sharpening into something more serious.

    The moment they stepped outside, the mood hit them like a wall.

    The market square had transformed from its usual lively bustle into something harsher. Urgent. The air crackled with tension, thick with the sound of boots thudding against packed earth, weapons clanking as they were pulled from storage, and voices barking orders over the low murmur of worried conversations.

    Stonebridge wasn¡¯t a town built for war, but tonight, it sure as hell looked like one.

    Del¡¯s eyes swept the scene.

    Men were strapping on mismatched pieces of armour¡ªsome dented and old, others clearly borrowed or hastily fashioned from whatever they could find. A few carried proper weapons, but most wielded whatever was available¡ªwoodcutting axes, long hunting knives, even a couple of rusted pitchforks.

    Among them, he spotted familiar faces.

    Jake and Merl stood near the well, their conversation hushed but serious. Merl absently tested the edge of his sword with his thumb as he spoke, his usual easy grin nowhere to be seen. The butcher¡ªMr Willis¡ªstood beside them, arms crossed, nodding along grimly.

    Further along, Del recognised Naomi¡¯s father, last seen plaining staves just days ago¡ªMr Cooper, was it?¡ªstrapping a thick leather belt over his tunic.

    His gaze flickered.

    ¡®What was his wife doing with Mr Tyler the other day?¡¯ He smirked to himself before pushing the thought aside. ¡®Focus, Del.¡¯

    Elara tapped his arm, drawing his attention back.

    Paolo was striding toward them, frowning as he fought with a stubborn buckle on his jerkin. The usually unshakable leader of the militia looked stressed, his movements sharp, impatient.

    ¡°I saw Naomi leaving,¡± he said the moment he reached them. ¡°Was she able to tell you anything?¡±

    Del felt Elara stiffen beside him, and her voice came out clipped. ¡°She¡¯s fine, thank you for asking.¡±

    Paolo blinked at the unexpected sharpness.

    Del shot Elara a quick look. ¡®Easy, tiger.¡¯

    He turned back to Paolo. ¡°She gave us more details, but we¡¯ll know more once we get there.¡±

    Paolo¡¯s jaw worked, as if he was debating whether to push for more. Then, quieter, almost hesitant¡ª

    ¡°Are they¡­¡± He swallowed, lowering his voice. ¡°Are they alive?¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Del met his gaze. ¡®Ah. That¡¯s what¡¯s really weighing on him.¡¯

    He took a breath, steadying his own nerves before answering. ¡°Yes,¡± he said, his voice firm. ¡°Emily and Vita were both alive when she saw them.¡±

    Paolo closed his eyes for the briefest moment, exhaling through his nose. The tension in his shoulders shifted¡ªless of that tight, coiled dread, more of a razor-sharp focus. They can still be saved.

    ¡°She wasn¡¯t able to check on anyone else,¡± Del continued. ¡°The Night Man¡ª¡± He hesitated, then grimaced. ¡°¡ªbutted in.¡±

    Paolo let out a pent-up sigh of relief as his focus shifted, now he had something to work on, it was time to get stuck into the rescue. Time was of the essence if they were to get the taken villagers out alive.

    Elara took over then, her voice smoothing out, the earlier annoyance at Paolo gone¡ªreplaced with something heavier.

    "Whoever he is, he may be a lot more dangerous than we¡¯ve been thinking.¡±

    Paolo¡¯s face darkened. His fingers rubbed anxiously together, an unconscious tell.

    Elara pressed on. ¡°From what Naomi was able to tell us, he could definitely see her astral form. That means, at the very least, he has some magical ability.¡± She shrugged, but the gesture didn¡¯t hide the unease in her voice. ¡°She couldn¡¯t describe him, though. Said it was like... he was more of a presence than a person. But she was too scared of him to push it.¡±

    Del watched the elder nod, absorbing the information with a grim expression before turning sharply on his heel. His voice boomed across the square as he began issuing orders to the hastily gathered militia.

    Del exhaled slowly, staring at the ground.

    This is going to be a shit show. I just know it.

    His gut churned. It was one thing fighting goblins¡ªlittle bastards were small, clumsy, predictable. Even bandits, for all their brutality, were just men with knives.

    But this?

    This was something else.

    Del lifted his gaze to the sky, not looking for anything in particular¡ªjust needing something to focus on beyond the gnawing feeling twisting inside him.

    ¡®How the fuck do we fight magic?¡¯

    The weight of his situation pressed down hard, heavier than before. I don¡¯t belong here. Even with Elara standing right beside him, even with familiar faces just feet away, a sharp and bitter loneliness clawed at his ribs.

    The alienness of this world was getting to him.

    Then, a gentle pressure nudged against his mind, warm and steady.

    He blinked and looked down.

    Misty sat at his feet, her golden eyes locked onto his, tail curled neatly around her paws.

    ¡®Not alone,¡¯ he felt her say, the words rippling through him, calm and quiet.

    The tightness in his chest loosened, just a little.

    Letting out a slow breath, he reached down and ran a hand over her head.

    ¡®Thank you, girl.¡¯

    The moment stretched between them, unspoken but understood.

    Then, straightening, Del rubbed his hands together and dusted an imaginary speck off his leg. He turned to Elara with a small, wry smile.

    ¡°Shall we?¡±

    Del stepped forward, raising his voice to be heard over the general hubbub.

    ¡°Right, lads, if we¡¯re doing this, we need to move now¡ªbefore the last of the light¡¯s gone.¡±

    At first, the crowd hesitated.

    A few exchanged uncertain glances.

    Then, a gruff voice broke through the murmurs.

    ¡°And who exactly put you in charge?¡±

    Del turned his head, locking eyes with a stocky, grey-bearded man near the front¡ªone of the older hunters, judging by his thick leather vest and well-worn bow slung across his back. His face was carved with deep lines, eyes sharp with suspicion.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯d like to know, too,¡± a younger man added, arms folded. He stood near the blacksmith¡¯s stall, his bare forearms streaked with soot. ¡°No offence, stranger, but we barely know you.¡±

    A few voices muttered their agreement. The ripple of doubt spread, small but noticeable.

    Del clenched his jaw. Of course.

    He should¡¯ve expected this¡ªhe wasn¡¯t from Stonebridge, wasn¡¯t one of them. They might have fought beside him once or twice, but leading a rescue mission? That was another matter.

    His first instinct was to snap¡ªto tell them he¡¯d done more to track this bastard than any of them had. But he forced himself to hold steady. Losing his temper wouldn¡¯t help.

    He spread his hands, keeping his voice level but firm.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said, meeting the older hunter¡¯s gaze directly. ¡°You don¡¯t know me. But I know this¡ªwhile you lot were still guessing, I was already out there tracking this bastard down.¡±

    A flicker of uncertainty crossed the older man¡¯s face, but Del pressed on.

    ¡°I know how he works. I know where he is. And I know we have one shot at this before he disappears for good.¡± His eyes swept the gathered men. ¡°If you¡¯d rather argue, be my guest. But every second we waste standing here is another second he¡¯s got to do whatever the hell he wants to Emily and Vita, Breeda¡­ all of the others he has taken¡±

    Silence.

    A few men shifted uncomfortably. Someone muttered a curse.

    Then, Merl¡¯s voice cut through the tension.

    ¡°He¡¯s right.¡±

    The burly man stepped forward, his fingers tapping against the pommel of his sword. ¡°Del may be new, but I think he has a good head. He¡¯s also fought before; he took out the arses that killed Lucas and brought us word.¡± He glanced at the older hunter. ¡°And we don¡¯t have time to stand around pissing about.¡±

    Jake followed, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. ¡°Besides, if he gets us all killed, I¡¯ll make sure the first round¡¯s on his tab.¡±

    A ripple of nervous laughter broke the tension, but the challenge had been met.

    Paolo stepped in smoothly, his voice steady.

    ¡°Del has been leading the search¡ªfiguring out what¡¯s happened and where our people have been taken. For now, he¡¯s in charge of the rescue.¡±

    The older hunter exhaled through his nose, then gave a curt nod. He still looked sceptical, but he didn¡¯t argue.

    Del held his gaze for a moment longer before turning back to the rest of them.

    That seemed to settle most of the villagers, though a few still exchanged wary glances.

    Merl caught Del¡¯s eye and gave him a firm nod of approval, gripping the hilt of his sword in a way that suggested he was more than ready for a fight.

    From the crowd, Jake¡¯s voice rang out, casual but confident. ¡°First drink is on the house when we get back with them.¡±

    A ripple of laughter followed, easing some of the tension.

    Even Del, wound up as he was, couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. Good man, Jake.

    He took a breath, steadying himself, and let his voice carry.

    ¡°We don¡¯t exactly know what we¡¯re walking into,¡± he admitted, scanning the faces before him. ¡°But we do know this¡ªwhoever this bastard is, he¡¯s got something up his sleeve. We know he uses Listwort to subdue his victims, and we know he¡¯s got some level of magical ability.¡±

    A low murmur rippled through the gathered men at the mention of magic. Fear. Uncertainty.

    Del raised a hand, silencing them.

    ¡°But we also know this¡ªright now, those people are alive.¡± His words were firm, cutting through the unease. He let that sink in. He saw relief flicker across some faces, saw the weight in Paolo¡¯s shoulders shift as his worst fear was confirmed not to be true¡ªat least, not yet.

    He glanced at Elara, who gave him a subtle nod of approval.

    ¡°So,¡± Del continued, his voice hardening, ¡°let¡¯s get to that quarry. Let¡¯s finish this. And let¡¯s make sure that bastard never takes another soul again.¡±

    A loud cheer rose from the militia.

    Weapons were shouldered, shields adjusted, boots scuffing against the ground as men steeled themselves.

    The people of Stonebridge were ready.

    Del adjusted the grip on his own weapon, jaw set.

    No more waiting.

    It was time to move.

 Chapter 46 â€“ A rope to climb

    Fifteen wasn¡¯t a bad force for a village the size of Stonebridge. Not an army, but a solid enough number to put up a fight. With Elara and Del included, they made seventeen.

    And, of course, there was their secret weapon.

    Misty padded at Del¡¯s feet, tail high, golden eyes gleaming in the dimming light. She was well aware of her value¡ªmore than just a pet, more than just a cat. She was a presence, a force in her own right.

    "Just you be careful, girl," Del murmured, frowning down at her.

    She gave a small huff in response, her whiskers twitching as if to say, Don¡¯t be ridiculous.

    Of the group, Del only knew Merl, Jake, and Paolo well. The others were faces he¡¯d seen in passing while mixing errands with the investigation. Most were simple men¡ªrough-handed, hardened by labour, but not warriors. Farmers, smiths, hunters¡ªmen who could handle themselves in a scrap but weren¡¯t trained soldiers. They wore a patchwork of well-worn leather and mismatched steel¡ªbreastplates that didn¡¯t quite fit, vambraces that looked borrowed from a neighbour, the occasional glint of chainmail on those lucky enough to own it.

    Two carried bows, the rest wielded a mix of swords, axes, and hunting knives, even a couple of farmers'' tools¡ªwhatever they had at hand. Merl, as always, stood out. His weapon of choice was a hammer the size of a small tree trunk, and he swung it in lazy arcs, testing the weight before resting it across one broad shoulder. Catching Del¡¯s gaze, he grinned, then strode forward to take point with Paolo.

    They moved out.

    Del sent Misty ahead, as was their usual pattern, while one of the archers¡ªLars, if he recalled correctly¡ªmelted into the trees. A hunter, one of the best in the village, or so Del had heard. He should make for a good scout, used to moving unseen through undergrowth.

    The rest of them fell into line, advancing in pairs down the narrow path, the march slower than Del would have liked but necessary. They weren¡¯t exactly quiet, but they weren¡¯t a herd of stampeding oxen either¡ªjust an odd shuffle here, the clink of metal there, the occasional cough or muttered curse as someone caught their foot on an unseen root.

    The journey stretched on, the sky above darkening into a deep, bruised blue. Naomi had covered this distance in mere minutes in her astral form, but in the flesh, burdened by gear and caution, it took them the better part of an hour.

    Then, the nudge.

    A familiar presence brushed against Del¡¯s mind, a warm, steady pulse of intent.

    ¡®Rock hole now.¡¯

    Misty.

    Del gave Paolo a quick tap on the shoulder and murmured low, ¡°Misty says we¡¯re close. Quarry¡¯s just ahead.¡±

    Paolo gave a sharp nod, raising a hand to call a halt. The group obeyed instantly, adjusting grips, tightening straps, shifting weight. Even the air seemed to still.

    "I''m going forward to take a look," Del whispered. "Lars should be up ahead as well¡ªI''ll find a vantage point, see what we''re dealing with."

    Paolo didn¡¯t argue, merely pressed his lips into a grim line and gestured for him to move.

    Elara fell in step behind Del as he eased forward. He felt her presence¡ªa steady warmth at his back, a quiet reassurance. When he glanced back, she met his gaze, the flicker of concern in her eyes masked by determination.

    Del gave her a small nod. She returned it.

    Then they slipped ahead.

    The trees thinned abruptly, giving way to the edge of the quarry. What had once been a thriving excavation site was now little more than a scar in the earth, a vast, gaping wound of stone and shadow. The pit yawned before them, cut deep into the hillside, its walls sheer and treacherous. The ground dropped away in jagged layers, a fifty-foot descent to a floor strewn with gravel, broken stone, and the abandoned remnants of past labour.

    Del exhaled through his nose. The whole place felt wrong.

    Not empty¡ªwaiting.

    Movement caught his eye.

    Lars perched high in a tree to the left, barely more than a shadow against the branches, bow in hand, eyes locked on the quarry floor. He didn¡¯t acknowledge Del, didn¡¯t need to¡ªhis focus was absolute.

    Del edged closer to the pit¡¯s lip, careful not to dislodge loose rock. The view was worse than he¡¯d hoped.

    The walls were near-vertical, dropping away in sheer cliffs, with only a few scattered ledges jutting out at irregular intervals. The quarry had likely once had wooden ladders connecting them, allowing workers to descend in stages, but those were long gone. The only way down now was by climbing¡ªa slow, dangerous descent with no cover and a whole lot of exposed ground.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    At the far end of the pit, partially obscured by shadows, lay the cave mouth. The same entrance Naomi had described. A jagged wound at the base of the rock face, dark and unwelcoming. Their way in.

    Del muttered a curse under his breath.

    ¡°That,¡± he said quietly to Elara, ¡°is going to be a total bitch to climb down.¡±

    She didn¡¯t argue.

    ¡°We need rope,¡± he continued. ¡°I have some, but not enough. Head back, see if Paolo and the others packed any.¡±

    Elara hesitated only a moment before nodding.

    ¡°On my way.¡±

    Then she was gone, melting into the trees with the same silent efficiency that always managed to surprise him.

    Del stayed where he was, watching, listening.

    Below, the quarry floor remained still.

    Too still.

    His gut twisted with unease. Something¡¯s down there. Maybe just the taken villagers. Maybe something else entirely.

    Del inhaled slow and deep, steadying himself.

    They weren¡¯t just fighting men tonight.

    Magic was at play.

    And he still had no idea how the fuck they were supposed to fight it.

    His gaze swept the quarry floor once more, scanning for movement, anything out of place. And then¡ªhe felt it. A weight. A presence.

    Watching.

    His eyes flicked left, catching movement by a weathered boulder near the cave mouth. Golden eyes gleamed back at him, unblinking. Misty.

    Del stiffened. His mind tripped over itself, scrambling for an answer, but there wasn¡¯t one. He hadn¡¯t seen her climb down. No one had. And yet there she was, perfectly at ease, tucked into shadow, watching the cave with an intensity that sent a ripple of unease down his spine.

    ¡®How the hell did she get down there?¡¯

    Stupid question. Trying to figure out how she did half the things she did was an exercise in futility. The damn cat moved like shadow and air¡ªwhere she wanted, when she wanted.

    Still, the sight of her so far ahead sent a ripple of unease through him.

    Del forced himself to refocus, scanning the area with renewed scrutiny. The pit looked undisturbed¡ªnothing but an abandoned quarry, nature slowly reclaiming its hold. The stone walls bore old scars from pickaxes, weeds clawed through cracks in the gravel, and the faint scent of damp rock lingered in the cooling air. If there was a threat here, it was doing a damn good job of hiding.

    Turning from the ledge, he pulled his rope from his pack, securing one end around a sturdy tree trunk. The knots came automatically, muscle memory from another lifetime kicking in.

    ¡®Bloody rope climbing,¡¯ he groused, gritting his teeth as he worked. ¡®Last time I did this was in school gym class¡­ I was shit at it then, and I¡¯ll probably fall and break my damned neck now.¡¯

    The thought didn¡¯t improve his mood.

    He was just finishing when movement caught his eye. Elara was returning, Paolo and the rest of the group on her heels.

    Muted whispers rippled through the men as they peered over the edge, assessing the descent. The mix of expressions was telling¡ªsome brimming with quiet bravado, others tight with nerves. No one relished the idea of dangling from a rope with only jagged rock beneath them.

    Then, Merl strode forward, took one look at Del¡¯s rope, and let out a slow, theatrical sigh.

    The big man shook his head in dismay, then wordlessly dropped his pack, reached inside, and pulled out¡ª

    Del blinked. Stared. Then laughed. A short, incredulous breath of sound.

    A bloody ladder.

    Right then, in that moment, he could have kissed the bastard.

    ¡°Merl,¡± he said, voice thick with gratitude. ¡°You beautiful, magnificent bastard.¡±

    Merl chuckled, already securing the ladder to the tree.

    ¡°You told us it was a quarry,¡± he said with a smirk, looping thick knots with practiced ease. ¡°What the bloody hell did you think I¡¯d bring? Sandwiches?¡±

    With a flick of his wrist, he sent the ladder tumbling down the rock face.

    The wooden rungs clattered against stone, the noise sharp in the still air.

    Across the quarry, Misty¡¯s head snapped up at the sound. Her ears twitched, her back arched in a languid stretch. Then, with the same unsettling patience, she settled again, her gaze never straying from the cave mouth.

    That wasn¡¯t normal.

    Del didn¡¯t like it.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Paolo said quietly. ¡°Let¡¯s get down there.¡±

    One by one, they descended.

    The ladder creaked ominously under shifting weight, but it held firm, thick rope taut against the tree. Del went down last, every muscle coiled with tension, waiting for the moment something¡ªanything¡ªlurched from the dark below.

    Nothing did.

    At the bottom, the group gathered in a tight huddle, boots crunching softly against gravel. Above, Lars remained in his tree, bow in hand, scanning the quarry from his vantage point.

    Del took a steadying breath.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he murmured, his voice carrying just enough to be heard. ¡°We don¡¯t know exactly what to expect inside, but Naomi described a tunnel leading to a cavern. A few hours ago, Vita and Emily were near a fire pit.¡±

    Silence stretched, the weight of those words settling over them.

    He met their gazes, making sure each man was listening.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know how many people are inside, if this bastard is working alone, or what tricks he has up his sleeve. The only things we do know are that he wears a black cloak and uses Listwort.¡±

    Jake let out a low exhale. ¡°Not exactly a lot to go on.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Paolo agreed, voice steely, ¡°but those are our people in there, and we are here to get them back.¡±

    No argument.

    Del nodded and crouched beside Misty, brushing a hand over her sleek fur.

    ¡®Can you hear or smell anything?¡¯

    She was silent for a moment, her whiskers twitching. Then, a slow pulse of thought rippled back to him.

    ¡®Smoke. People. Strange sleep thing. No noise.¡¯

    The villagers were still there. The Listwort was still in the air. But beyond that¡ªnothing.

    The cave mouth loomed ahead, dark and gaping.

    And the quarry was silent.

    Not just quiet¡ªwrongly quiet.

    No distant skitter of loose rock. No murmur of shifting bodies from inside. No rustling breeze through the brush. The kind of silence that didn¡¯t feel natural. The kind that pressed against the eardrums, stretching too tight.

    Del¡¯s gut twisted.

    He relayed Misty¡¯s message to the group. ¡°They¡¯re still in there. The Listwort¡¯s strong, and there¡¯s smoke, but no movement. No voices.¡±

    No guards? No sounds of shifting, murmuring captives? That wasn¡¯t right.

    His skin prickled.

    He turned to Misty.

    ¡®Stay safe, girl. No risks, you hear me?¡¯

    A faint huff of indignation brushed his mind.

    Del huffed right back. Too bloody brave for her own good.

    Still, as she slunk toward the cave, disappearing like a wisp of shadow into the black, he couldn¡¯t help but watch with a strange, quiet awe.

    For all their weapons, for all their numbers¡ªhe couldn¡¯t help feeling she was the most dangerous thing moving toward that cave.

 Chapter 47 â€“ Tunnel delving

    Slowly, carefully, they made their way across the quarry floor. The pit stretched out around them, a rough oval of uneven stone and loose gravel, silent except for the faint scuff of boots against rock.

    The ground was treacherous, littered with fragments of shattered stone, worn smooth by time and weather. The occasional misstep sent pebbles skittering away, the small sounds unnervingly loud in the hush. Someone muttered a curse under their breath, quickly swallowed in the weight of the moment.

    Del¡¯s mind flickered to an idle thought.

    ¡®Why did they stop using this place?¡¯

    Quarries didn¡¯t just shut down unless the rock was spent, or something worse had happened. The thought curled in his mind like a whisper of unease.

    At least they knew the quarry itself was empty. And Lars was still above, his bow at the ready, watching over them like a silent sentinel. That should have brought more comfort than it did.

    ¡®What the hell have you got yourself into, Del?¡¯

    He exhaled through his nose, carefully skirting around a large boulder that loomed in his path.

    ¡®I swear, when I get out of this, that fucking computer is going in the bin.¡¯

    The dark mouth of the cave yawned ahead.

    As they closed the final distance, the air changed.

    It wasn¡¯t just a drop in temperature¡ªit was a shift, a bite of unnatural cold that crept beneath skin and into bone. The chill radiated outward from the cavern¡¯s entrance, seeping through fabric, settling in the marrow. It felt old. Unwelcoming.

    And the darkness... wasn''t right.

    Even from just outside, the firelight from their torches barely touched the interior. It wasn¡¯t a natural dimness¡ªthis was consuming. The shadows beyond the threshold seemed to drink in the light, devouring it, refusing to give anything back.

    Del swallowed. This place does not want us here.

    He reached for Misty, nudging at her presence cautiously.

    Nothing.

    She didn¡¯t respond. No shift of thought, no pulse of reassurance.

    His fingers twitched around the hilt of his sword.

    Beside him, Elara tapped his shoulder. ¡°I can see in the dark pretty well,¡± she murmured, her voice low but steady. ¡°Something all elves can do.¡± A small, self-deprecating shrug. ¡°Not as well as dwarves, but we don¡¯t spend our time hiding under mountains.¡±

    Del turned to her, already guessing where this was going.

    ¡°You¡¯re suggesting you join Misty in scouting ahead?¡± He kept his voice even, but concern bled through.

    She nodded, slipping her bow from her back in a single fluid motion, fingers already pulling an arrow free.

    ¡°One of us has to,¡± she said simply. ¡°And I can move without giving myself away by needing a torch.¡±

    She was right. He hated that she was right.

    His jaw tightened.

    ¡®Why am I surrounded by such brave people? I don¡¯t deserve it, that¡¯s for sure.¡¯

    He glanced at Paolo. The militia leader didn¡¯t look any happier about the idea, but he had no better alternative.

    Del exhaled through his nose and gave her a reluctant nod.

    Elara didn¡¯t wait. She moved into the black without hesitation, her form swallowed by the cavern¡¯s maw in seconds.

    And then, nothing.

    The wait was painful.

    Every breath dragged. Every heartbeat stretched.

    The cold pressed in from the cavern ahead, a slow, insidious thing that seemed to steal the warmth from his body. The stillness clawed at his nerves.

    No sound. No sign of movement.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Not even Misty.

    Del clenched his jaw. His instincts screamed at him¡ªthis was wrong, wrong.

    Five minutes.

    That was what he allowed.

    Five minutes of silence.

    Five minutes of staring into the dark.

    ¡®You¡¯re being melodramatic, Del. Pack it in.¡¯

    He tightened his grip on his sword.

    ¡®Fuck this.¡¯

    Ignoring every horror film warning his brain was shrieking at him, he signalled the others forward.

    Steel whispered free from scabbards. Torches flared to life, their flames guttering slightly in the damp air before steadying.

    Before stepping in, Paolo touched his shoulder. ¡°If we need to fall back, we do it quick. No getting lost in these tunnels.¡±

    Del nodded. ¡°Agreed.¡± He glanced at the men. ¡°We move slow, we keep the torches low, and if you see anything weird¡ªsay something.¡±

    Murmured agreements rippled through the group.

    Del stepped forward, and the others followed.

    At first, the tunnel was manageable.

    The floor was smoother than he expected¡ªworn by years of use, polished by the footsteps of the long-forgotten workers who had once hauled stone from this place. The walls were a strange mix of natural cavern and roughly hewn edges, where hands had widened passages or carved into veins of valuable rock.

    The deeper they went, the worse the silence became.

    Sound played tricks. Footsteps echoed, bouncing unpredictably, warping in the tunnels until it felt like something was moving behind them, beside them, ahead where no one was.

    Somewhere in the distance, water dripped.

    A slow, rhythmic plink-plink-plink, the only sound beyond their breathing.

    And the cold.

    The cold seeped. It coiled into bones, turning breath to mist, numbing fingertips even beneath gloves.

    Del exhaled slowly. The air was changing.

    The scent of must and damp rock grew stronger, tinged with something else¡ªsmoke.

    Listwort.

    Faint, but growing.

    They were getting close.

    Then¡ªthe tunnel split.

    A narrow passage veered sharply to the left, barely wide enough for two men. The main tunnel continued forward.

    Paolo hesitated. ¡°Side passage?¡±

    Del studied it. The left path looked different¡ªdamp, the walls lined with old wooden supports that had warped over time.

    ¡°Dead end?¡± Jake suggested.

    ¡°Only one way to find out,¡± Del muttered.

    He motioned for a few men to check it while the rest held position.

    The smaller tunnel was cramped, forcing them to move single file. The air was stagnant, thick with something foul¡ªlike old rot buried beneath stone.

    Then¡ª

    Scraping.

    A low, hollow scrape from somewhere up ahead.

    Everyone froze.

    Del¡¯s heartbeat hammered.

    Then, after a tense few seconds¡ª

    Nothing.

    They pressed forward another dozen steps.

    And found a dead end.

    Collapsed rock.

    No sign of anything living.

    Just¡­ silence.

    Paolo exhaled sharply. ¡°Let¡¯s move back.¡±

    They turned¡ª

    The scraping sound came again.

    Behind them.

    Del whipped around, sword raised.

    Nothing.

    A heartbeat stretched¡ª

    Then¡ª

    Something clicked in the darkness.

    Jake swore. ¡°We¡¯re leaving. Now.¡±

    They hurried back to the main tunnel.

    Del didn¡¯t look over his shoulder.

    He didn¡¯t want to know what had been behind them.

    Behind Del, the scuffle of a boot against a loose stone shattered the uneasy quiet, followed by a muttered curse as one of the men stumbled. The sound rang out too loudly, bouncing off the tunnel walls in strange, fractured echoes.

    Del whipped his head around, heart hammering¡ªonly to find the man righting himself, muttering under his breath, face half-shadowed in the flickering torchlight.

    He exhaled sharply and pressed forward.

    The tunnel was playing tricks on them.

    The shadows leapt and twisted as they moved, flickering wildly in the torchlight, shifting into impossible shapes that disappeared the moment they were properly looked at. Every step felt too loud, every movement somehow watched.

    Del¡¯s eyes swept the walls constantly, searching for things that probably weren¡¯t there.

    A flicker in the distance.

    His heart slammed against his ribs¡ª

    Something¡¯s there.

    His sword arm tensed, fingers gripping the hilt¡ª

    Only to realise a moment later that it was nothing. Just another cruel illusion cast by firelight.

    ¡®Paranoia is not a good look, Del. Worry about the real shit, not the imaginary stuff.¡¯

    He swallowed the lump in his throat and kept moving.

    The tunnel tightened, the walls narrowing.

    They were forced to string out further, the group shifting into two narrow lines, pressed together just enough to still wield weapons if needed. The air grew heavier, thick with damp stone and the growing musk of something else. The smell of old things.

    The sound of dripping water continued, an eerie, inconsistent plink that came from no discernible source. It echoed oddly, warping with their footsteps, making it feel like the sound was coming from beneath them, or worse¡ªabove.

    A sharp gasp cut through the silence.

    Then, in a tight whisper¡ª

    "Del? Get up here."

    Elara.

    Del¡¯s breath hitched.

    His body reacted before thought could form, muscles tightening as he pushed forward, moving through the men ahead without care. He didn¡¯t run, but it was a near thing.

    His mind spiralled through the worst possibilities in the space of a heartbeat.

    ¡®Please be okay. Please be okay.¡¯

    He rounded a bend and found her crouched low on the tunnel floor.

    Beside her¡ªMisty.

    Del¡¯s stomach dropped.

    The small ginger form was curled into a loose coil, nestled against the rock. Soft, rhythmic sounds escaped her¡ªa mix of gentle purrs and barely audible snores.

    His heart pounded. His brain struggled to make sense of the sight.

    Misty. Asleep.

    No tension in her form, no alertness. Just¡­ resting. Clutched in her paws was a small bag, the scent of Listwort unmistakable even from where he stood.

    Del crouched fast, reaching out¡ªbut not touching her.

    The others gathered close, watching.

    Elara¡¯s voice was quiet, almost uncertain. ¡°She¡¯s breathing fine. She¡¯s¡­ just asleep.¡±

    Del swallowed hard, pulse thrumming in his ears. Misty never just slept. Not like this. Not in the middle of an unknown space, near a danger they knew was real.

    His mind scrambled for an explanation.

    Was the Listwort affecting her? Did she find this and¡­?

    His gaze lifted toward the tunnel ahead.

    The flickering of a fire danced along the stone walls, shifting shadows deep in the passage beyond.

    They were close.

    Too close.

    Del¡¯s jaw tightened as something heavy settled in his chest.

    Whatever waited for them beyond that bend, Misty had reached it first.

    And she hadn¡¯t been able to fight it.

    He exhaled slowly, then, voice low and firm¡ª

    ¡°Can you wake her up?¡±

    They couldn¡¯t afford to hesitate any longer.

 Chapter 48 â€“ We need a plan

    Del knelt down beside Elara and reached out to give Misty a gentle stroke ¡°I thought I told you to keep out of trouble,¡± he said, his voice gruff with concern.

    Elara examined Misty, carefully running a hand just above her fur without touching. Her expression tightened in concentration. ¡°There¡¯s¡­ something lingering,¡± she murmured. ¡°Not a spell exactly, but it¡¯s not just the Listwort, either.¡±

    Del¡¯s fingers curled into a fist. That didn¡¯t help. That didn¡¯t tell him what they were walking into.

    Jake crouched down, eyeing the small bag still clutched in Misty¡¯s paws. ¡°Should we move it?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Elara said sharply. ¡°Not until we have her away from it, we need to move her first.¡±

    Del blew out a slow breath. ¡°Fine. Then let¡¯s move her¡ªcarefully.¡±

    He lifted Misty gently, her small body limp in his hands. She let out a soft sigh in her sleep, nuzzling slightly against his arm before settling back into unconsciousness. The motion sent a faint prickle up Del¡¯s spine. That wasn¡¯t right. That wasn¡¯t Misty.

    He placed her carefully into his pack and then placed it down beside the cavern wall, out of the way of the passage. ¡°She can sleep it off here.¡± He hesitated, brushing a hand briefly over her fur. ¡°Stay safe, girl.¡±

    ¡®I¡¯ll be back for you later unless you wake up first.¡¯ He exhaled a deep breath and stood.

    ¡°Well, either she has been into the cavern and was bringing that bag to us, or it was dropped here.¡± He kicks the little bag aside.

    ¡°No point trying to figure it out, so let''s go see what¡¯s happening ahead.¡± He checks his sword and looks at the motley crew. ¡°Be ready for anything.¡±

    They left her there, nestled against the stone, and turned their focus to the darkness ahead.

    Del moved forward slowly, every step deliberate, heart hammering against his ribs. The tunnel¡¯s final curve loomed ahead, its edges swallowing the flickering light from the chamber beyond.

    He edged forward, keeping low, and peered around the bend.

    The cavern yawned open before him, a vast space hollowed from the earth by time and something far less natural. The ceiling stretched high above, lost in blackness, where stalactites jutted downward like rows of jagged fangs, gleaming dully in the firelight. Veins of dark stone and rust-coloured striations twisted through the walls, slick with the slow creep of moisture. Tiny rivulets of water trickled down in uneven streams, collecting in unseen pools, their steady drip the only sound beyond the low crackle of the fire.

    The air was thick. Heavy.

    The first breath Del took was cold and wet, laced with the damp scent of ancient stone and something deeper, something rotten beneath the surface. The fire burning at the heart of the chamber should have added warmth, should have carried the sharp bite of charred wood, but instead, the heat was stifled¡ªmuffled, as if choked by the weight of something unseen.

    The floor was unnaturally clear. Someone had carved away the cavern¡¯s natural formations, hacking off stalagmites, their shattered remnants pushed into uneven heaps at the chamber¡¯s edge. The smoothed-out expanse of stone in the centre was unnerving in its precision, like a wound that had been cauterized rather than healed. Towards the back of the chamber, a tent and a small fire pit nestled against the wall.

    If that was all then it could have seemed almost innocent, but at its heart, the horror lay bare.

    Five figures hung limply from carved stone columns, their bared chests slick with blood where intricate, twisting sigils had been carved into their flesh. The markings glowed faintly, pulsing with slow, unnatural life, their edges still raw and wet. Chains creaked as one of them twitched, a low, breathless moan escaping cracked lips.

    A ritual circle had been etched into the stone around them, the lines of a pentagram gouged deep into the rock, its channels filled with a dark metal that seemed to drink in the light. The outer ring connected each pillar, its inlaid sigils forming a closed loop, humming with something unseen but palpable¡ªan almost oily pressure against the air, pressing into Del¡¯s skin, whispering beneath his thoughts.

    And then, his gaze reached the altar.

    A single stone block, blackened with stains that weren¡¯t just from tonight, stood at the middle of it all.

    A woman lay bound atop it, wrists and ankles lashed to each corner with thick, dark cords, her naked body slick with sweat. She writhed weakly, her breath shallow and ragged, as though caught in the grip of some unseen fever.

    Del barely registered the sharp inhale behind him before Paolo pushed forward, his entire body going rigid with rage.

    ¡°Emily.¡±

    Her name was a broken whisper, filled with something raw and fractured, the kind of pain that didn¡¯t survive long in a place like this.

    Del reacted instinctively, snapping out an arm to grab Paolo before he could move any further.

    Paolo¡¯s body shook with restraint, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white, but he didn¡¯t fight Del¡¯s grip.

    Not yet.

    Del exhaled, forcing himself to think past the rising heat of his own fury.

    Behind him, he felt Elara lean in close, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, ¡°There is strong magic here, Del. I can feel it building.¡± She hesitated, and for the first time, there was uncertainty in her voice. ¡°I don¡¯t recognize it. But it¡¯s¡­ wrong.¡±

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    Del¡¯s stomach tightened.

    He could feel it, too.

    Not the light, effervescent hum of natural magic, nor the focused will of a spell already cast. This was something else¡ªsomething that coiled beneath the skin, a vibration deep in the bones, like a storm pressing against the inside of his skull.

    Instead of butterflies, it felt like hornets, furious and trapped in a glass jar.

    And the jar was cracking.

    Del¡¯s fingers tightened around his sword hilt. His mind raced.

    They couldn¡¯t just charge in. Not into this.

    His breath was slow, controlled. A forced stillness as his brain dragged itself back into clarity.

    ¡°We need a plan.¡±

    Because whatever this was¡ªit wasn¡¯t finished yet.

    And that meant they still had a chance.

    Del motioned sharply, signalling the group to fall back beyond the bend.

    They moved silently, pressing into the cold stone, breaths slow and measured as they gathered in a tight knot. The flickering torchlight behind them barely reached their faces, leaving their expressions carved in half-shadows, the glow picking out the sharp tension in their jawlines, the faint sheen of sweat at temples and brows.

    No one spoke at first. The weight of what they¡¯d just seen settled over them like a thick, cloying shroud.

    Del swallowed, forcing his mind to drag itself back from the horror and into strategy.

    ¡°We can¡¯t just rush in.¡± His voice was low, clipped, but firm. His mind scrambled to recall any half-remembered lore on dark rituals, on mages and magic, but the best he had to go on were the blurred recollections of fantasy novels read too long ago.

    ¡®Lord of the Rings and Terry Pratchett make odd bedfellows, but it¡¯s all I¡¯ve bloody got.¡¯

    He inhaled sharply, shoving his useless thoughts aside, and turned to Elara.

    ¡°Elara, any thoughts on what we might be facing?¡±

    ¡®Just don¡¯t say fireballs. Not fireballs.¡¯

    Elara¡¯s gaze flicked back toward the bend as if she could still feel the weight of the magic pressing against them. She let out a slow breath, then shook her head.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say,¡± she admitted. ¡°We don¡¯t know how strong he is. The fact that he used drugs, not magic, to take the villagers suggests something.¡± She hesitated. ¡°It may mean his only real power is what he¡¯s preparing in that ritual. A sacrifice of some kind to use as a channel, something that requires a buildup rather than raw power.¡±

    Del shuddered at her choice of words. Sacrifices.

    He let his fingers drum a slow, measured rhythm against his leg as he absorbed that.

    ¡®Ritual casters¡­ slower to cast, but more dangerous when they do.¡¯

    Still, there were too many unknowns.

    ¡°Anyone else?¡±

    A moment of silence. Then¡ª

    Jake raised a hand.

    Del blinked, then let out a short breath.

    ¡®Not your typical classroom, mate.¡¯ But he nodded anyway.

    ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    Jake shifted his weight slightly, expression uneasy. ¡°My grandad used to tell me stories about the Wizard. Said he used¡­¡± He hesitated. ¡°Fireballs.¡±

    ¡®I said no fucking fireballs!¡¯

    Del exhaled sharply, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose.

    ¡°Right,¡± he muttered, half to himself. ¡°Always the bloody fireballs.¡±

    He lowered his hand, letting his thoughts turn over the possibilities.

    ¡®Fire? Electricity? Some kind of blast radius attack?¡¯

    A mage capable of casting in the middle of a ritual was already bad. A mage capable of taking out groups at once was worse.

    ¡°Alright.¡± Del straightened. ¡°There¡¯s always the chance of large-area magic. He¡¯s working on something big, but that doesn¡¯t mean he can¡¯t lash out in the meantime. We have to assume he¡¯s dangerous both at range and up close.¡±

    His voice tightened. ¡°That means if he starts casting, we shut him down¡ªfast.¡±

    A ripple of nods.

    Del turned his gaze to Elara and Sam. ¡°Archers. You need to hit him the moment he notices us. If he¡¯s got shields, we want to force him to use them early. Elara, you take left flank. Sam, right.¡±

    Sam nodded crisply. Elara merely rolled her shoulders, loosening the tension coiling in them.

    Del¡¯s gaze moved to Merl. ¡°Merl, take five men. Get to the right of the circle, but do not step inside it.¡±

    Merl grunted in understanding, already scanning the group, mentally selecting his team.

    Del looked at Paolo and Jake. ¡°We take the left with the rest. Same rules. Avoid the circle.¡± His voice hardened. ¡°We do not know what breaking that thing will do. We are not taking that risk.¡±

    The grim expressions in front of him told him they understood.

    He inhaled. ¡°The goal is the tent. Assuming he is in it, and if we can get to it before he notices¡ªbest-case scenario.¡±

    He didn¡¯t believe it for a second.

    ¡®Fat chance is better than no hope.¡¯

    His cynical side laughed at him.

    He ignored it.

    Del¡¯s gaze swept over the group one last time, meeting each of their eyes in turn. Fear was there¡ªof course it was. It sat coiled beneath their skin, tightening their shoulders, lurking behind steady grips on weapons.

    But beyond that¡ªresolve.

    They weren¡¯t soldiers. They weren¡¯t trained for this.

    But these were their people.

    And they would see this through.

    Del exhaled, quiet and steady. ¡°We have the numbers. Stay strong. We swarm him before he has the chance to take control. He¡¯s one man. We¡¯re sixteen.¡± His voice hardened. ¡°No matter what power he has¡ªwe take him down.¡±

    A ripple of nods.

    That was it. No more words. No more reassurances.

    It was time.

    Del turned, brushing his fingers lightly against Elara¡¯s wrist as he moved past her. Just a brief touch¡ªa grounding moment.

    Then he slipped back toward the bend.

    Elara and Sam moved first, silent as breath, vanishing into the cavern¡¯s shadowed edges.

    Merl and his team followed, hugging the cavern wall, their heavy steps controlled, boots rolling carefully over loose stone.

    Del held back, letting them take position first, his own team close behind. The weight in his chest thickened, breath coming faster, shallower.

    His fingers curled tight around his sword hilt.

    This wasn¡¯t a fight¡ªnot yet.

    But it would be soon.

    Jake was at his side, one step ahead, his free hand finding Paolo¡¯s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. Paolo¡¯s fingers twitched¡ªbut he didn¡¯t flinch.

    Instead, he exhaled and nodded.

    Jake gave him a grin, flashing his knife.

    Del watched, pulse hammering, and forced himself to match the energy. He winked at Jake, earning an amused snort.

    ¡®Stay strong, Del. They need to see you keep on point.¡¯

    He swallowed hard.

    The firelight ahead flickered, their approach eating the distance between them and the prisoners.

    The crackle of burning wood filled the chamber, covering their footfalls, but beneath it¡ª

    The magic buzzed.

    Not heard, not exactly.

    Felt.

    A deep, low vibration beneath the skin, pressing against bones, behind the eyes, making his teeth itch. It was wrong, unnatural, and growing thicker.

    Every step forward made it worse.

    His stomach rolled.

    Ahead, the tent loomed, the cloth shifting slightly in the faint cavern breeze. The movement was subtle, the fabric twitching, as if something inside was breathing with it.

    Then¡ª

    Light flared behind the canvas.

    Not firelight.

    Something else.

    A shadow moved within.

    Del barely had time to register the cold spike of warning in his chest before¡ª

    The tent exploded outward.

    A deafening roar ripped through the cavern, pure fury given sound, and then¡ª

    A figure emerged, tearing through the fabric as if it were nothing.

    Tall. Lithe. Cloaked in black.

    The voluminous hooded cape twisted unnaturally around him, shifting as if it were alive, the ends curling and snapping like a tattered, living thing.

    His face was gaunt, sunken cheekbones catching the dim light, and his eyes burned with unnatural fire, wide and filled with something wild. Unhinged. Hungry.

    In one hand, he clutched a twisted wooden staff, its knotted length writhing with veins of dark energy, pulsing in time with the sickening hum of magic around them.

    Del stumbled back a step, breath catching¡ª

    The Night Man had arrived.

 Chapter 49 â€“ The Night Man

    Del took an involuntary step back, breath catching as the air pulsed with a violent surge of mana. It was like a physical force, pressing against his skin, rattling through his bones.

    Then¡ª

    Lightning split the darkness.

    The bolt screamed forward, searing white, the sudden heat scalding the air.

    Del dived to the side but the man to his left never had a chance.

    The blast hit him square in the chest, his body jerking violently, a sickening snap of bone echoing through the cavern. He was flung backward like a ragdoll, his limp form slamming into stone with a gut-wrenching thud.

    Del didn¡¯t have time to process if he was alive or dead¡ªthere was no time.

    ¡°Elara!¡± His cry was instinctive, but even as he called, he saw her arrow flash forward, sharp and true.

    It buried itself in the Night Man¡¯s leg.

    The mage roared, a guttural snarl that reverberated off the cavern walls, his free hand sweeping down in a brutal motion. He didn¡¯t just pull the arrow out¡ªhe snapped the shaft in half as he turned toward the archer¡¯s position.

    Another spell built in his palm, lightning crackling between his fingers¡ª

    Then another bolt lanced out, this time from the hip, wild and unfocused.

    Stone exploded where the shot hit, sending shards of rock flying as the blast just missed Elara¡¯s position.

    That was our opening.

    We surged forward.

    Swords drew arcs of silver as we closed the gap, but the Night Man was fast¡ªfar faster than he should have been.

    His staff swept outward in a brutal arc, carving through the air¡ª

    And then¡ª

    A blast of force erupted from the motion.

    It hit like a wall, an invisible hammer that crashed into Del¡¯s chest, lifting him clear off his feet. The others were flung back, boots dragging deep furrows into the cavern floor as they were shoved away.

    Del landed hard, the impact rattling through his spine.

    His vision blurred for half a second, the world tilting sideways, but he forced himself up.

    The mage was already lifting his staff again.

    Another spell.

    Another death waiting to happen.

    But¡ª

    Sam¡¯s arrow struck.

    It came out of nowhere, a blur of motion, aimed straight for the mage¡¯s skull.

    The Night Man¡¯s reaction was instant.

    His staff jerked up, knocking the arrow aside just in time, but the deflection wasn¡¯t perfect.

    The arrow¡¯s razor edge bit into his cheek, opening a sharp crimson gash along his face.

    For the first time¡ªhis expression twisted in surprise.

    More arrows followed immediately, cutting through the air in rapid succession.

    His off-hand snapped up, fingers curling into a tight motion¡ª

    A shield flared into existence, translucent and shimmering, a rippling barrier of energy.

    The arrows slammed against it¡ªand dropped harmlessly to the floor.

    The shield shuddered under the force but held.

    Then, with a snarl, the Night Man pushed forward, his next spell already forming¡ª

    And the real battle began.

    "Push forward!"

    Del¡¯s shout was almost drowned in the cacophony around them.

    Another arrow whipped past, a blur of fletching and steel, but the Night Man batted it aside with a flick of his staff, the motion casual, dismissive.

    Then¡ªMerl struck.

    The massive war hammer tore through the air, the force of its swing distorting the very space around it, a brutal weight moving too fast for something its size.

    A shield snapped up in response, flaring to life in a sickly, translucent shimmer.

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    The impact was thunderous.

    The barrier fractured instantly, but it stole enough of the momentum that when the hammer slammed into the mage¡¯s shoulder, the Night Man only staggered instead of crumpling.

    Still¡ªhis eyes widened.

    The first sign of true alarm.

    Then he spoke.

    A string of guttural, biting syllables, the language grating against the air itself, twisting the space around his mouth like oil rippling over water.

    The effect was immediate.

    The air shimmered violently, thickening, a pulse of dark energy radiating outward.

    Del barely had time to brace¡ª

    It hit like a shockwave, knocking them all backwards once more, their bodies jerking uncontrollably as the force pulsed through their bones.

    Two men dropped instantly, hitting the stone floor with ragged gasps, writhing and retching as the magic twisted their insides.

    Del¡¯s vision blurred, his breath shuddering in his throat as the very air around them seemed to thicken, pressing against his limbs like unseen shackles.

    His sword felt heavier, every motion sluggish, his legs stuck in unseen tar.

    ¡®Fuck. We¡¯re sitting ducks like this.¡¯

    Merl, a sickly green tinge creeping into his usually ruddy face, gritted his teeth and forced himself upright, muscles bunching as he raised his hammer again.

    Del fought to do the same, forcing his body to respond through sheer will, but every movement was painfully slow, like pushing against deep water.

    Then¡ª

    A sudden rush of energy.

    A shift.

    A wash of fresh air broke through the choking thickness, rippling outward in a wave of green light.

    The cavern floor shuddered¡ª

    And then, grass sprouted beneath their feet.

    Lush, vivid green, unnatural in its suddenness¡ªbut blessedly real.

    Del inhaled sharply, the pressure around his limbs releasing.

    He didn¡¯t need to look to know who was responsible.

    ¡®Oh, good girl.¡¯

    Elara had turned the Night Man¡¯s magic against him.

    They could move again.

    Del surged forward just as Merl¡¯s hammer came down in another crushing arc¡ª

    The mage barely evaded, twisting aside just in time, the weapon smashing into the ground instead, rock splintering outward in a deafening explosion.

    Shards whipped through the air, slicing past them like flying razors.

    Del threw up an arm just as one jagged piece caught him across the cheek, searing pain flaring up his face.

    Behind him, he heard a curse of pain¡ªsomeone hadn¡¯t been fast enough.

    But there was no time to check.

    A knife¡ªsmall, fast¡ªwhistled through the air, low and deadly, aimed straight for the mage¡¯s ribs.

    Jake.

    It hit.

    Not deep¡ªnot enough to be fatal¡ªbut it landed.

    The Night Man jerked as the blade sank just past the cloth of his robes, eyes widening with genuine shock.

    For the first time, the arrogance cracked.

    For the first time¡ªhe looked at them and realized how outnumbered he was.

    At that moment, with a howl of pure fury, a flash of ginger fur launched through the air, teeth bared, claws extended, a living missile of rage.

    The Night Man barely had time to react.

    Misty slammed into his wrist, claws digging deep, fangs sinking into flesh.

    The mage screamed, staggering as blood splattered in dark droplets against the cavern floor. His fingers spasmed violently, and the staff slipped from his grip, clattering to the stone with a sharp, resonant crack as he flung out his arm hurling Misty from him.

    Del didn¡¯t see where she landed in the dark but wasn''t going to waste the opening.

    He lunged, covering the last few feet in one burst of motion, sword flashing downward¡ª

    The blade bit deep, carving a long gash along the mage¡¯s other arm, slicing through fabric and flesh alike.

    The Night Man reeled, his robes slick with blood, but he wasn¡¯t finished yet.

    His lips curled in a snarl, and then¡ª

    Flame erupted outward.

    The blast surged from his body, expanding in a circular inferno, forcing everyone back as the Night Man stood like some denizen of the hells wreathed in flames

    Del threw up his arms, the heat licking against his skin, singing his sleeves.

    A cry of alarm rang out as the nearest chained prisoner flinched, their bindings dangerously close to the roaring fire.

    For a split second, Del thought the flames would catch¡ª

    But Paolo was faster.

    He lunged, grabbing a bucket of what had once been stagnant cave water, and hurled it over the fire¡¯s leading edge.

    Steam hissed violently, the flames faltering just enough to keep from engulfing the victim.

    The Night Man, bleeding heavily now, stumbled back, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps.

    His eyes darted wildly, searching for an escape, a chance to turn the tide¡ª

    That¡¯s when the pitchfork hit him.

    One of the villagers, a broad-shouldered man who had been hiding behind cover, flung it like a spear, the prongs tearing into the mage¡¯s side, embedding just above the hip.

    The Night Man howled, his body jerking in agony, his free hand clutching the weapon protruding from him.

    And then¡ªMerl moved. Charging through the flames from behind in a rush of pure fury.

    Del barely saw the massive swing, just a blur of iron and momentum¡ª

    The hammer connected with the back of the Night Man¡¯s skull with a sickening crunch.

    The mage¡¯s body jerked forward violently, his eyes going wide¡ª

    Then he collapsed.

    Silent. Motionless.

    The flames flickered, and died.

    Merl exhaled, rolling his shoulders, and muttered, ¡°I live with fire, you fucking dick.¡±

    Then he kicked the body.

    For a long moment, there was nothing.

    No one moved.

    The only sound was the faint crackling of dying embers and the sharp inhales of battle-worn breath.

    [You killed Human Mage lvl 3, Experience gained.]

    Del stared at the words, his mind slow to process them through the lingering adrenaline rush.

    Misty trotted over, rubbing against his legs as if in apology for her unexpected nap earlier.

    Del let out a breathless chuckle, his shoulders finally loosening.

    The others began to move, stepping toward the fallen mage, staring down at the lifeless body with a mix of relief, disbelief, and grim satisfaction.

    Elara stepped forward, her face still taut with tension, and ripped the mage¡¯s cape free, bundling it around the fallen staff, taking care not to touch the wood directly.

    ¡°We need to have this checked out,¡± she said firmly, her voice still laced with residual caution.

    No one argued.

    ¡°No one wanted to go near it.¡±

    The adrenaline drained away fast.

    Del felt his legs wobble slightly, his grip on his sword loosening.

    He saw it in the others too¡ªthe way their shoulders sagged, the way Merl exhaled sharply, letting his hammer rest heavily on the ground.

    A collective exhale.

    The battle was over.

    But the work wasn¡¯t.

    Jake was the first to speak, still staring toward the prisoners.

    ¡°¡­Now what?¡±

    Del followed his gaze.

    The five chained figures still hung from the pillars, their heads slumped forward, bodies marked with ritual wounds.

    The pentagram on the floor no longer pulsed, the dark metal dull but not lifeless¡ª

    But whatever magic had been woven into it was still there, waiting.

    Elara¡¯s expression hardened.

    ¡°I need to figure out what¡¯s going on here and undo it.¡± She inhaled deeply. ¡°If I do it wrong¡­ the backlash could be violent.¡±

    Paolo barely even hesitated. ¡°Then do it right.¡±

    Del sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. ¡°I¡¯m going to check out the tent.¡± He glanced at Paolo, his voice quieter. ¡°You should see to the injured.¡±

    He turned his attention back to the circle.

    His jaw tightened.

    ¡®Hang tight, people.¡¯

    ¡®We¡¯ll get you down as soon as we can.¡¯

 Chapter 50 â€“ Work to do

    A sharp, rhythmic beeping echoed inside Del¡¯s skull, a grating reminder that the Overmind had messages waiting for him. He clenched his jaw, irritation prickling at his frayed nerves. Now was hardly the time for system notifications.

    ¡®I don¡¯t have time right now, BB. Now fuck off and let me deal with more important shit than your nagging.¡¯

    The beeping cut off instantly, almost as if startled by his outburst. A faint smirk twitched at the corner of his lips. ¡®Now I really am imagining things.¡¯

    Shaking off the distraction, Del scanned the cavern. Elara crouched near the ritual circle, her keen eyes fixed on the sigil carved into one of the captives¡¯ chests. Her expression was unreadable, but the furrow in her brow suggested she was deep in thought, attempting to decipher whatever dark magic had been worked upon these people.

    The victims, mercifully, remained unconscious, their slack faces spared the horror of their own predicament. The sight did little to ease the weight pressing against Del¡¯s ribs.

    Misty prowled along the cavern¡¯s perimeter, her ginger fur a flickering blur against the dim light. Whatever she was searching for, Del had no doubt it made perfect sense to her.

    Paolo spoke quietly with the rest of the party, the low murmur of his voice blending with the faint crackle of dying embers. The scent of feldspar ointment lingered in the air, sharp and mineral-rich, a telltale sign of tending to wounds¡ªburns, most likely.

    To his left, Jake knelt beside the man who had taken the brunt of the lightning bolt. Del watched as he placed a steady hand against the fallen warrior¡¯s cheek, his face unreadable. A moment later, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the man¡¯s lifeless form, a silent act of respect.

    A fresh wave of sombreness settled over Del¡¯s lingering relief.

    ¡®I don¡¯t even know your name, but you were brave. You didn¡¯t deserve to die.¡¯

    The others had noticed. The weight of Jake¡¯s gesture settled over them all, visible in the solemn set of their shoulders, the way their eyes lingered on the shrouded form. Del met Jake¡¯s gaze and gave a single nod¡ªa silent acknowledgement of their loss¡ªbefore turning towards the tent.

    The mage¡¯s corpse lay still where it had fallen, his cloak stripped away, leaving his body exposed to the flickering torchlight. Even in death, there was something¡­ wrong about him. The sharp, narrow angles of his face, the beak-like nose, the precisely groomed goatee¡ªit all added to a carefully curated image of menace.

    His black hair, still immaculate despite the battle, fell to his collar in sleek waves. His robes, fine cotton rather than the rough-spun linen of the villagers, reeked of wealth and arrogance.

    ¡®What was this guy doing? Auditioning for the role of ¡®classic villain¡¯ or what?¡¯

    Del¡¯s gaze dropped to the mage¡¯s hands. Rings adorned his fingers, each one humming with an undeniable aura of ether. He could feel it¡ªsubtle yet potent, the faintest tingle along his skin. Either he was getting better at sensing magic, or these were powerful artefacts.

    Best not to risk it. He left them untouched for now¡ªElara would know how to handle them when she was done freeing the captives.

    His attention shifted to the man¡¯s belt. A fine leather pouch rested there, weighted with something substantial. Del unclipped it and slipped it into his pocket.

    ¡®At the very least, this can pay for a proper burial for¡ª'' A frown creased his brow. ¡®Damn it, why didn¡¯t I ask everyone¡¯s names?¡¯

    Around the mage¡¯s neck, a pendant gleamed, its ornate surface covered in intricate arcane symbols. The pulse of power emanating from it was stronger than the rings. Whatever it was, Del wasn¡¯t about to test its properties here.

    Enough. There were still more pressing matters to attend to.

    Straightening, he turned towards the tent. As he moved, his gaze met Merl¡¯s. The warrior stood near Paolo, arms crossed, watching him with silent scrutiny.

    ¡°Lots of weird magical shit on him,¡± Del said, jerking his chin toward the corpse. ¡°Keep everyone away until Elara can be sure it¡¯s safe.¡±

    Merl gave a short nod.

    Del exhaled, flexing his fingers before adding, ¡°Then I figure it¡¯s a choice between throwing him on the fire or leaving him outside for the scavengers.¡±

    Merl¡¯s expression darkened, but he didn¡¯t argue.

    The others had heard, too. Their anger at the mage¡¯s atrocities had not faded, but now it mixed with a deeper exhaustion¡ªa heavy sadness for those still bound in chains.

    There was still work to do.

    And no time to waste.

    Del stepped inside the tent, pushing aside the heavy canvas flap. The air within was warmer than outside, thick with the mingled scents of old parchment, candle wax, and something faintly metallic¡ªblood, perhaps, or the harsh taint of alchemical residue. The tent was sturdier than it had looked from the outside, its interior well-kept, the chaos of the battle not reflected within these walls.

    The floor was layered with worn but clean rugs, the faint scent of dried herbs clinging to the fabric. The flickering light of an oil lamp cast shifting shadows along the canvas walls, making the space feel smaller than it was as if secrets themselves were lingering in the corners.

    To one side, a low camp bed lay neatly arranged, the sheets only slightly rumpled. It was simple but well-made¡ªtoo refined for a roadside traveller, too precise for a common bandit. Whoever the mage had been, he had not expected to sleep rough.

    Opposite the bed, a modest collection of furniture was arranged with meticulous care. A small wooden table sat at the centre; its surface cluttered yet deliberate in its disarray. A meal had been abandoned there¡ªcrusted bread, cold slices of meat and cheese, all half-eaten, left in a way that suggested urgency rather than laziness. A glass, still partially filled with dark liquid, rested beside the plate.

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    Del lifted it, sniffing experimentally¡ªthen grimaced, his stomach twisting. ¡®Not wine. Definitely not wine.¡¯ He set the glass down, resisting the urge to wipe his fingers on his trousers.

    Beside the table stood a wooden chest, its lid firmly shut but lacking a lock. That was convenient. He hadn¡¯t found a key on the mage¡¯s corpse, and after the chaos of the fight, he wasn¡¯t in the mood for puzzle-box theatrics.

    Even so, he approached it with caution. The paranoia of a life hard lived made him hesitate, fingers hovering above the lid before he finally exhaled and lifted it¡ªready to leap back at the first sign of danger.

    Nothing happened.

    No explosion. No spray of corrosive gas. No cursed spirits shrieking their way out of the woodwork.

    ¡®Alright, maybe I am paranoid. No; I definitely am.¡¯

    The contents were, at first glance, a collection of bottles and vials, carefully arranged in neat rows. The glass glistened in the lamplight, filled with liquids of varying colours and consistencies. Some shimmered with an unnatural luminescence, others looked thick, viscous, or had disturbing residues clinging to the insides of the glass.

    Del frowned. He had no idea what any of them did. They could be healing draughts, poisons, or anything in between.

    Beneath the vial racks, a set of drawers revealed a far more unsettling collection. Cut herbs and dried flowers were arranged in small bundles, their scents blending into a heady, almost medicinal aroma. Among them, far stranger items lay wrapped in oilcloth¡ªsmall bones, dried organs, and what appeared to be preserved animal eyes, their glassy surfaces catching the lamplight like tiny, unblinking sentinels.

    Nestled at the centre of the chest was an onyx mortar and pestle, its surface polished smooth from use. The stone looked heavy and expensive. This wasn¡¯t the tool of an amateur hedge-witch. Whoever the mage had been, he had invested in his craft.

    Del closed the chest. It was too large to carry out, but the contents were valuable¡ªdangerous, maybe, but worth something.

    His attention turned to the last piece of furniture¡ªa small writing desk, its surface arranged with precision. A quill and inkpot sat beside an open journal, its pages filled with tight, intricate script. He ran a finger along the edges, skimming through, but much of the writing was unreadable to him, the symbols unfamiliar.

    A folded letter had been tucked into the front cover.

    Del unfolded it carefully, his eyes scanning the words. His stomach tightened.

    ¡®The mage wasn¡¯t working alone.¡¯

    The letter was not a mere set of personal notes or idle musings¡ªit was a commission. Someone had hired him for this.

    The thought left an unpleasant weight in his chest.

    Slipping the letter into his pocket, he closed the journal and glanced back at the cot. He yanked the sheets free, bundling them together. If there was one thing he had learned, it was that people left traces of themselves in the things they touched. Maybe Elara could make sense of all this, and if not¡ªwell, they would burn the damn thing just to be sure.

    Without another glance, he turned and stepped back into the night, letting the tent flap fall closed behind him.

    As Del stepped out of the tent, the cool air rushed against his skin, a stark contrast to the strange, heavy warmth inside. The battlefield had settled into an eerie quiet, the scent of burnt ozone from the Night Man¡¯s magic still lingering in the cavern. The crackling of the fire was the only sound beyond the occasional murmured conversation among the survivors.

    Elara stood near the ritual circle, brushing dust from her hands, her movements slow and deliberate. She looked drained, the flickering light catching the shadows beneath her eyes. When she saw him, she straightened and waved him over.

    ¡°Have you figured it out?¡± Del asked as he approached, his voice low.

    Elara let out a breath, rubbing the back of her neck. ¡°It was a summoning ritual. But I managed to dissipate the build-up of potential before it could reach completion.¡± A tired smile ghosted across her lips. ¡°Fortunately, it hadn¡¯t advanced too far yet.¡±

    Del exhaled, tension uncoiling slightly from his shoulders. ¡°So, can we get them down now?¡±

    She nodded. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s safe.¡±

    That was all he needed to hear. He turned, raising a hand to Merl, Jake, and Paolo, signalling them over. The three men moved without hesitation, their expressions grim but determined.

    As they approached, Del stood beside the closest of the captives¡ªVita. The woman¡¯s breath was shallow, her body marked with cruel ritual carvings, but she was alive. Beside her, Breeda hung similarly restrained, their clothes torn off, their dignity stripped away alongside their freedom.

    Del tore one of the sheets in half and draped the fabric around them covering their bared breasts, shielding them from the open air, if nothing else. It wasn¡¯t enough¡ªit would never be enough¡ªbut it was something.

    Moving to the centre of the ritual space, he came to Emily. She had been positioned at the altar, her bindings stretching her tightly to the four corners of the stone slab, her skin deathly pale beneath the flickering torchlight. He made quick work of the ropes, the coarse fibres scraping against his fingers as he loosened the last of the knots. With care, he wrapped the remaining sheet around her still form and lifted her from the altar.

    She was light, too light. He could feel the faint rise and fall of her chest against his own, the shallow rhythm of someone too far gone to fight their own way back just yet.

    Paolo was already waiting nearby, concern etched deep into his features as Del carried Emily away from the circle. The fire cast flickering shadows across his face as he knelt beside them, his hands hovering uncertainly as if afraid to touch her.

    ¡°I think, from the smell, they¡¯ve all been heavily dosed with listwort,¡± Del murmured, lowering Emily onto the soft earth. ¡°Once it wears off, they should wake.¡±

    Paolo reached out, carefully taking her hand in his. His fingers were steady, warm despite the cavern¡¯s chill. He said nothing for a moment, then nodded slowly.

    ¡°They¡¯ll need more than just healing when they wake.¡± His voice was quiet but certain. ¡°They¡¯ll need time¡­ patience.¡± He glanced at the others still chained to the pillars, his gaze dark with understanding. ¡°Comfort. Care.¡±

    Del rested a hand on his shoulder, a brief, firm squeeze. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. ¡°They will.¡±

    Behind them, Merl and Jake worked swiftly to free the last of the captives. The manacles were simple, secured with a basic lock nut, making the process faster than expected. Soon, the last of the prisoners slumped free from their restraints, their unconscious forms carefully eased to the ground. No one spoke as they worked¡ªthere was nothing to say.

    And then, it was over.

    The rescuers and the rescued gathered near the firepit, the warmth of the flames offering little solace against the weight of what had just passed. Six victims lay wrapped in what little fabric could be found, their breathing slow but steady. Thirteen survivors stood around them, faces illuminated by the fire¡¯s glow, exhaustion pulling at their expressions.

    And Jason.

    The body of their fallen companion had been placed with care, his face now covered by Jake¡¯s jacket.

    Del swallowed hard. ¡®At least now I know his name.¡¯

    For a long moment, silence stretched between them. The only sound was the shifting of embers, the occasional shuffle of boots against stone. The adrenaline was gone, leaving only weariness in its wake.

    Then, as if to punctuate the weight of the moment, Misty reappeared.

    She strolled into the firelight with an unmistakable air of satisfaction, something limp and wriggling clamped between her jaws. With an audible crunch, she bit down, the soft, wet sound of bones snapping breaking the silence. The firelight caught the scales of whatever unfortunate lizard she had decided to turn into a midnight snack.

    Del sighed. ¡°Thanks for that, girl.¡±

    Misty licked her chops, tail flicking. ¡®More if you want?¡¯

    Deadpan, Del turned back to the others. ¡°Apparently, if anyone¡¯s peckish, Misty is happy to fetch lizard for lunch.¡±

    A few tired chuckles broke the heavy air. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was something.

    And right now, something was enough.

 Chapter 51 â€“ Cursed Cheese

    Del found Elara standing a little apart from the others, her silhouette framed by the flickering firelight. She wasn¡¯t just tired¡ªshe was drained. Her shoulders slumped slightly, her hands resting on her hips as she studied the cavern floor, her brow furrowed in thought. Even without speaking, he could tell her mind was still turning over whatever spellwork she had just undone, still calculating, still analysing.

    He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear. ¡°Are you okay?¡± His hand came to rest lightly on her arm, and he could feel the faint tension there, the remnants of strain still locked into her muscles.

    She exhaled slowly, tilting her head toward him but not quite looking up. ¡°I just need some rest,¡± she admitted, her voice quieter than usual. The weight of what she had done pressed into every syllable. Magic always had a cost¡ªhe had seen it before, but there was something more to her fatigue this time, something deeper than mere exertion.

    Del hesitated. ¡°That ritual¡­ it took something out of you, didn¡¯t it?¡±

    Elara let out a soft, tired laugh, shaking her head. ¡°It wasn¡¯t just stopping it. I had to unravel it safely¡ªif I¡¯d just disrupted the circle, we might have ended up dealing with something worse than just the Night Man.¡± She finally glanced at him, her lips curving into a small, wry smile. ¡°I wasn¡¯t about to let that happen.¡±

    Something about the way she said it sent a shiver up Del¡¯s spine. Something worse. He didn¡¯t ask what that meant. Maybe he didn¡¯t want to know.

    Instead, he nodded, glancing toward the others before lowering his voice again. ¡°I found some interesting things in my search.¡±

    That caught her attention. The exhaustion in her eyes didn¡¯t fade, but a spark of interest flickered beneath it. She was tired, but she was still Elara¡ªcuriosity ran through her blood.

    ¡°The mage had a lot of magical items on him¡ªrings, a pendant, some nasty-looking artefacts.¡± Del shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s a chest in his tent, filled with potions and who-knows-what. And a journal¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°I can¡¯t make sense of most of it.¡±

    Elara arched a brow, intrigue pushing past her weariness. ¡°A journal?¡±

    Del pulled the letter from his pocket, handing it over. She took it carefully, the parchment crisp beneath her fingers. Her gaze scanned the contents with sharp efficiency, her expression shifting slightly¡ªher tired posture straightened just a fraction, her lips pressing into a firmer line.

    The firelight reflected in her eyes as she murmured, ¡°We need to show this to the elder.¡±

    Del nodded, tucking the letter back into his pocket. ¡°I know. But let¡¯s get everyone out of here and safely back to the village first.¡±

    She sighed, rubbing her temples before straightening. ¡°I¡¯m going to see if I can safely retrieve the magic items and check if you missed anything.¡±

    A knowing smirk tugged at Del¡¯s lips. ¡®She¡¯s as treasure-happy as a magpie.¡¯

    ¡°Just don¡¯t set off any traps,¡± he teased.

    Elara shot him an amused look over her shoulder. ¡°You go see how the others are coming along.¡± Her voice was dry, but there was warmth behind it. Then, despite her exhaustion, she strode off toward the far side of the cavern, her eyes already scanning for anything worth salvaging.

    Del watched her go for a moment before turning back toward the others. She was tired, but she wasn¡¯t broken. And that, at least, was something.

    Turning back to the group, Del took in the scene. Though exhaustion still hung heavy in the air, the grimness from earlier had been tempered by something brighter. Relief. The weight of their victory, however bloody, had begun to sink in.

    The six unconscious captives had been tended to, their bodies swathed in whatever spare fabric could be found. Someone had smeared feldspar ointment onto their carved wounds¡ªalready, the magic-infused salve was working, dulling the worst of the injuries. The scars would likely remain, faint reminders of the horrors they had endured. But at least they would heal.

    Del nodded in approval and made his way to Paolo, who was still seated beside Emily. The flickering fire cast warm hues across her pale face, the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest the only sign of life.

    ¡°How is she?¡± Del asked, crouching beside him.

    Paolo didn¡¯t look up immediately, his fingers resting lightly over Emily¡¯s hand as if to ground himself. ¡°I suppose ¡®comfortable¡¯ is the right word,¡± he murmured. ¡°She isn¡¯t in pain. As far as I can tell, she¡¯s just sleeping off the drug¡¯s effects.¡±

    Del gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. ¡°Once they wake, we¡¯ll move.¡± He hesitated before adding, ¡°But we can¡¯t carry them up that cliff. They¡¯ll have to manage the climb themselves.¡±

    Paolo¡¯s jaw tightened, but he nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll help them.¡±

    ¡°We will,¡± Del agreed before standing and making his way toward Merl, who was overseeing the group, his broad stance firm, a quiet pillar of stability.

    ¡°We need someone to go back to town,¡± Del said, his tone low but firm. ¡°See if we can get a cart up here. The less we ask of the kidnapped ones, the better.¡±

    Merl grunted. ¡°Already ahead of you. Sent Sam running back not long ago. The lad¡¯s fast¡ªhe¡¯ll be halfway there by now.¡±

    Del let out a breath. ¡°Good.¡±

    He shifted, rolling his shoulders. The cavern air was thick, still carrying the lingering scent of burnt ozone, blood, and the damp earth beneath them. His stomach twisted slightly at the memory of the mage¡¯s tent, the untouched meal, and, worst of all, the glass of whatever the hell that had been.

    ¡°There¡¯s food in my pack,¡± he said at last. ¡°There was some in the tent, but I wouldn¡¯t trust it.¡±

    Merl arched a brow. ¡°Not hungry for cursed cheese?¡±

    Del grimaced. ¡°I¡¯d rather eat my own boots.¡±

    Merl chuckled. ¡°Fair enough.¡±

    ¡°We should eat, take care of¡­ personal business, and rest while we wait for them to wake.¡± Del glanced toward the others, noting the quiet exhaustion settling over them all. ¡°We¡¯ll need to be ready to move as soon as they can stand.¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡± Merl gave a sharp nod and began passing along the plan.

    The atmosphere around the fire remained subdued, though the earlier tension had begun to loosen its grip. Conversation came in low, tired murmurs, voices rough with exhaustion but carrying a sense of relief, however muted. Some sat in silence, staring into the flickering embers as if trying to process the night¡¯s events, while others exchanged quiet words¡ªsmall reassurances, grim reflections, and, in some cases, wry attempts at humour to push back the lingering weight of what they had seen.

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    Merl stretched his arms with a groan, rolling his shoulders as he muttered, ¡°Well, at least it wasn¡¯t demons.¡±

    Jake let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. ¡°Or blood wraiths. That would have been a shitshow.¡±

    ¡°This was a shitshow¡± Paolo said. ¡°I just spent an hour tending to people covered in ritual carvings. I¡¯d take a wraith over this mess any day.¡±

    A few huffs of laughter rippled through the group¡ªnot light-hearted, but real, a shared acknowledgment of the insanity they had just lived through.

    Near the fire, one of the rescued villagers shifted restlessly in their sleep, drawing immediate attention¡ªbut when they didn¡¯t stir further, the moment passed.

    ¡°We should all be dead,¡± someone quietly said, their voice flat, but edged with something else. Not quite disbelief. Not quite relief.

    Del exhaled, leaning back against his pack. ¡°Yeah. But we¡¯re not.¡±

    That, for now, was enough.

    Exhaustion settled deep into Del¡¯s bones, heavier than the weight of his armour, heavier than the battles fought and won. His muscles ached with a dull, relentless throb, his mind felt like it had been wrung dry. Every breath he took felt like it carried the weight of the night¡¯s horrors, lingering like smoke from a dying fire.

    The adrenaline that had kept him moving, thinking, surviving¡ªwas gone. And now, the sheer absurdity of it all was catching up to him.

    ¡®What the hell am I even doing anymore?¡¯

    He pushed himself to his feet, stretching out stiff limbs before making his way to the far edge of the cavern. A piss break was long overdue, and the last thing he needed was to pass out next to the fire only to wake up really uncomfortable.

    Misty trailed at his side, a quiet presence in the dim light. As he finished and turned to make his way back, she nudged his ankle, her tail flicking toward a darker section of the cavern.

    He frowned. ¡°What?¡±

    Another nudge.

    Sighing, he followed her lead, stepping carefully over uneven ground. A few paces further along, tucked behind a curve of rock, a shallow pond reflected the flickering firelight in dark, glassy ripples. The surface was still, undisturbed, save for the faintest shimmer of movement beneath the water.

    Del crouched at the edge of the pond, cupping his hands and splashing icy water onto his face. The moment it hit his skin, his breath caught, a sharp inhale rushing through his teeth as the shock bit down to the bone. The cold sank in like a blade, a cruel contrast to the heat of battle still clinging to his skin.

    For a moment, he just stayed there, fingers gripping the damp stone, head bowed as water dripped from his chin. His heartbeat steadied, the deafening drum of adrenaline finally fading, leaving behind only exhaustion.

    He inhaled deeply. The air here was damp, thick with the scent of wet earth and something ancient, something that had existed long before men ever set foot in this cavern. Misty sat nearby, her tail curled around her paws, watching him with that unblinking feline patience, as if she knew what he was thinking before he even thought it.

    ¡®I just want to sleep for a week and forget all about fucking wizards and bloody fireballs.¡¯

    The thought was barely more than a flicker passing his mind but it held the weight of truth.

    He scrubbed a hand down his face, palm rasping against the stubble getting out of control on his jaw, then ran damp fingers through his hair. The cold had helped¡ªjust enough to clear some of the fog in his head. But it couldn¡¯t wash away the reality of what had just happened. The fight. The ritual. The fact that, for the first time, he had led people into something truly dangerous¡ªand they had followed him.

    He wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about that.

    With a weary shake of his head, he kicked a loose rock into the water, watching the ripples distort the reflection of his own face. ¡®Do I even recognize myself anymore?¡¯

    Misty let out a small, amused huff through their bond. ¡®Tired. Dirty. But still you.¡¯

    Del smirked despite himself. ¡°Could do without the commentary, you know.¡±

    She flicked an ear, clearly unbothered.

    With a final exhale, Del pushed himself back to his feet, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders before turning back toward the main group.

    The fire was still burning, and for the first time in what felt like hours, he let himself think about sleep.

    The fire still burned low, its embers pulsing in soft waves of orange and gold. The others were quiet, resting as best they could in the aftermath of everything. Del dropped down onto the ground, leaning against a small boulder, allowing his eyes to drift shut for just a moment.

    And, of course, that was when the pinging started again.

    The sharp, familiar chime echoed in his head, shattering whatever brief peace he¡¯d found.

    ¡®Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake.¡¯

    ¡®Alright, you bloody arse, what do you want now?¡¯

    [You have progressed on your primary Cuvat: Survive. Points added.]

    Well. That was something.

    Another chime.

    [You have learned the skill: Leadership. Try not to get too bossy.]

    A dry chuckle escaped him. ¡®Noted.¡¯

    Then, the final message appeared, bringing with it the a smile of satisfaction.

    [Congratulations, you have enough experience to level up. Would you like to level up now?]

    ¡®Hell yes,¡¯ he thought immediately, a small grin tugging at his lips.

    His stat sheet unfolded in his mind, neat and structured, glowing with that odd, unnatural clarity that system screens always had. His grin widened. Not one level, but two.

    ¡®That¡¯s more like it, Del.¡¯

    Four stat points to spend. He hesitated for only a moment before dropping two into Strength, one into Dexterity, and the last into Intelligence¡ªa balanced spread that made the most sense given everything they¡¯d been through.

    Satisfied, he leaned back again, stretching his legs out in front of him as he felt his body¡­ tense up? Relax? He wasn¡¯t sure what but it felt as though his muscles somehow hardened and loosened all at the same time.

    ¡®Weird¡¯ he thought¡ªonly to pause as another notification flared in his mind.

    Misty¡¯s stat sheet.

    Level 5.

    Del blinked. ¡®That damn moggy is a higher level than me!¡¯

    A laugh bubbled up before he could stop it, the absurdity of it almost a relief.

    He nudged her mentally. ¡®Hey, girl, when did you get so big?¡¯

    A purring chuckle rippled through their connection, warm and smug.

    "Newt," came her simple response.

    Right. The fight with the damn beast. While he¡¯d been sitting and talking to Seth, she¡¯d been earning her place.

    ¡®Fair enough. Good on you, girl.¡¯

    Satisfied, he scrolled through both their sheets, checking abilities, stats, anything new. Nothing game-breaking, but enough to be pleased with.

    For now, that was enough.

    For now, he could rest.

    Name: Del Axholm

    Level: 4

    Path: Archer

    Health: 36

    Strength: 18

    Dexterity: 18

    Stamina: 18

    Intelligence: 12

    Wisdom: 12

    Mana: 24

    Spirit: 24

    Agility: 22

    Presence: 10

    Animal Companion: Misty; feline

    Skills:

    Archery lvl 3 ¨C Able to use all manner of handheld bows and crossbows

    Woodcraft lvl 3 ¨C Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.

    Tracking lvl 2 ¨C Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.

    Traps lvl 1 ¨C Can make basic snares and pit traps.

    Sneak lvl 3 ¨C Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.

    Herbalism lvl 2 ¨C Can identify and gather basic herbs.

    Skinning lvl 1 ¨C Can manage to crudely strip the skin from a carcass.

    Leadership lvl 1 - Able to command small groups of up to 20.

    Attacks:

    Bow lvl 3 ¨C Simple Shot.

    Sword lvl 3 ¨C Cut, thrust.

    Dagger lvl 2 ¨C Stab, Slash.

    Special Attacks:

    Bow:

    Sneak attack lvl 1 ¨C Doubles damage

    Master Archer lvl 1 ¨C Cost 1 Stamina: Increased damage and chance of critical hit.

    Dagger:

    Backstab lvl 1 ¨C Double damage.

    Name: Misty

    Level: 5

    Path: Feline Companion

    Health: 42

    Strength: 10

    Dexterity: 19

    Stamina: 15

    Intelligence: 10

    Wisdom: 6

    Mana: 25

    Spirit: 15

    Agility: 24

    Presence: 14

    Skills:

    Charm lvl 3 ¨C Can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.

    Attacks:

    Claw lvl 4 ¨C Attack with front claws.

    Rake lvl 3 ¨C Double rear leg attack.

    Bite lvl 3 ¨C It¡¯s teeth all the way.

    Special Attacks:

    Pounce lvl 4 ¨C Can be used with any or all of the standard attacks. Double damage, with a small chance to cause the target to stumble.

    Sneak Pounce lvl 3 ¨C As above; Triple damage.

 Chapter 52 â€“ Return to Stonebridge

    Sometime later, Del stirred from an uneasy doze, his awareness nudged back to the waking world by a gentle touch on his shoulder. His eyes cracked open to find Elara crouched beside him, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and patience.

    ¡°Hey, sleepy,¡± she murmured, her voice low but not without warmth. ¡°Looks like Vita is awake, and the others are starting to stir.¡±

    He exhaled through his nose, stretching out the stiffness that had settled deep into his muscles. Sleeping on a cave floor was never the best of ideas, and his back was making sure he knew it. Joints popped as he rolled his shoulders, dragging a hand down his face before pushing himself upright.

    Around him, the atmosphere had shifted. The oppressive weight of exhaustion remained, but there was movement now¡ªquiet conversation, people stretching, shaking off the remnants of restless sleep. Across the cavern, perched on a chair they¡¯d dragged from the tent, Vita sat clutching a steaming mug, sipping cautiously. She still bore the grime and dust of her ordeal, but her posture was steady, and her eyes¡ªthough tired¡ªheld the same spark of curiosity and dry humour she¡¯d had when they first met at her cottage.

    As Del stood, a strange sensation settled in his limbs. Looser. Suppler. A moment ago, his body had felt like a sack of bricks, but now...

    ¡®Is this because of those stat points kicking in?¡¯

    The idea would need more thought later, but it made sense and tied in with what he felt earlier as he had applied the points. Misty¡¯s increase in intelligence had been undeniable¡ªthere was no reason the same logic wouldn¡¯t apply to him.

    He glanced at Elara beside him. ¡°Shall we see how she¡¯s doing?¡±

    With a nod, they made their way over.

    Vita¡¯s tired smile met them before they even spoke. ¡°I gather I have you two to thank for a lot of the effort in finding us before things got out of hand.¡±

    Del shook his head slightly. ¡°Elara found Naomi. She was the key to solving things.¡±

    At the mention of the girl, Vita¡¯s lips pressed together in thought. ¡°Yes, Naomi¡­¡± she mused, shifting the mug in her grip. ¡°Paolo told me about her gift. A very rare talent indeed.¡±

    Del nodded in agreement, but it was Elara who spoke next, filling Vita in on the details¡ªhow they had encountered Naomi, the difficulty in coaxing her ability forward, and the delicate balance of making sure she wasn¡¯t overwhelmed by it. Vita listened, her expression thoughtful.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know much of the higher magics,¡± she admitted. ¡°My speciality lies more in alchemy and the simpler cantrips tied to healing arts. But Naomi was fortunate you were there. Without guidance, she may never have fully developed it.¡± She shook her head, as though recalling something distant. ¡°My own small talent wasn¡¯t discovered until I was nearly past childhood. I was lucky¡ªa travelling healer sensed something in me and took me on as an apprentice. Without him, my abilities would have faded into the ether, lost like so many others when a child transitions into adulthood.¡±

    Del absorbed that quietly, glancing around as the cavern continued to stir into life. More of the rescued villagers were awake now, and the comforting scent of herbal tea wove through the air. Breeda sat with Merl, her hands folded in his as she spoke in hushed tones. Nearby, Sean, Will, and Silas were deep in an animated conversation, gesticulating wildly as they exchanged half-heard snippets of their experiences. Paolo sat on a low rock, his arm slung around Emily¡¯s shoulder as she murmured something, her words soft but carrying the weight of someone trying to piece herself back together.

    ¡®This is only the beginning for them,¡¯ Del thought, his chest tightening slightly. The processing, the healing, the endless unpacking of what they had endured¡ªit wouldn¡¯t end here. Some scars healed with time. Others simply remained.

    Dragging his thoughts back to the present, he refocused on Elara and Vita. They were still speaking about Naomi, and to his mild surprise, Vita was already agreeing to help ensure the girl¡¯s family understood the necessity of sending her somewhere larger, where she could receive proper training. ¡°Sooner rather than later,¡± she added firmly, a sharp contrast to her previous musings.

    Before any of them could say more, a soft padding of paws drew Del¡¯s attention downward. Misty, ever the opportunist, trotted over to Vita and¡ªwithout hesitation¡ªleapt onto her lap. There was a brief moment of expectant stillness before she presented her prize: a limp lizard, carefully deposited as a gift.

    Vita blinked. Then, laughter burst from her throat, rich and genuine, ringing through the cavern like the first real note of lightness since this entire mess began.

    Around them, heads turned. Smiles flickered. Some tired, some still burdened by exhaustion, but real all the same.

    And for the first time since waking, Del felt something shift in the air.

    They weren¡¯t whole. They weren¡¯t done.

    But for now, they had survived.

    And sometimes, that was enough.

    Paolo pushed himself to his feet, stretching out the stiffness in his limbs before gesturing for the group to start moving. ¡°We should head back to the quarry,¡± he said, his voice carrying the weight of exhaustion but also quiet resolve.

    Del nodded before turning to Elara. ¡°Did you manage to recover everything from the mage and his tent?¡±

    She gave a short nod, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. ¡°All safe, though they¡¯ll need proper examination. I have the smaller items with me, but the staff and the chest¡ª¡± she tilted her head towards the tent, ¡°¡ªwill need someone else to carry them out.¡±

    That was fair enough. Without wasting time, Del signalled to Merl and Jake, and together, the three of them made their way towards the remnants of the mage¡¯s camp. The tent still bore the air of something tainted¡ªthough the fire had long since died down, the scent of scorched fabric and burnt herbs lingered in the air. Whatever magic had been worked here was fading, but it had left its mark.

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    Merl and Jake hefted the chest between them, grunting at its weight. Del bent down and took up the staff, its form hidden beneath a thick cloak. Even through the fabric, a tingle of power pulsed up his arm, curling beneath his skin like a shiver that had nothing to do with the night air. He clenched his jaw, adjusting his grip.

    The sooner this was properly contained, the better.

    By the time they rejoined Elara and Vita at the rear of the group, the others were already filtering out of the cavern, their steps picking up with a shared, unspoken urgency. No one wanted to linger here longer than necessary.

    The cool night air hit them as they emerged into the open space of the quarry. Overhead, the moon hung high, casting a silver sheen across the rock face. In the distance, at the ledge above the ladder, a lone figure waved down to them.

    Lars.

    ¡°The wagon just arrived!¡± he called, his voice carrying easily across the quarry floor.

    At that, the energy in the group shifted. Weariness was still there, weighing down every step, but the thought of going home spurred them on, quickening their pace.

    ¡°We¡¯ll need a hoist to get this damned chest up there,¡± Jake muttered as he adjusted his grip.

    ¡°No kidding,¡± Merl grunted. ¡°Give me an angry horse¡¯s hoof or a lump of hot metal to lift any day over this.¡±

    Jake huffed. ¡°I still don¡¯t get how he got the bloody thing down there in the first place.¡±

    ¡°Has to have been magic,¡± Merl replied, puffing out a breath. ¡°Same as the poor sods he dragged down there for that cursed ritual he was trying.¡±

    Despite the complaints, there was no true bitterness in their words¡ªjust the familiar, good-natured grumbling of men who had spent too long hauling heavy things from places they shouldn¡¯t have been in the first place. Hardship had shaped them, but it had never dulled their humour.

    At the base of the cliff, Del turned his attention to the next task¡ªgetting everyone safely up.

    The rope ladder was sturdy enough, but to the untrained, it could feel precarious. The last thing they needed was someone freezing up or slipping.

    His gaze landed on Breeda. The oldest one here, and the last person who should be climbing fifty feet of granite in the dead of night.

    ¡®She should be in bed with cocoa, not clambering up a bloody cliff face,¡¯ he thought grimly. But needs must.

    They agreed on an order for the ascent. Jake went first, testing the stability of the ladder before helping from above. Then, Breeda followed, with Merl so close behind her that he was practically sharing the same rungs¡ªready to catch her if she faltered. Step by step, she climbed, slow but determined, until she reached the top, where Lars and Jake pulled her up the final stretch. The rest followed in pairs, each rescued villager flanked by a rescuer.

    Sam went next, Jason¡¯s body secured carefully on his back, his movements steady despite the weight. Elara and Vita climbed together, their steps sure-footed.

    Finally, Del was left alone at the bottom.

    Taking a last glance around the quarry floor, he adjusted his grip on the wrapped staff and started up.

    At the top, Merl and Jake had already rigged a basic pulley, working quickly to fashion a makeshift frame from nearby branches.

    Del exhaled. ¡®Right. Back down you go, idiot.¡¯

    He passed the staff to Elara for safekeeping, then descended once more. The rope was thrown down, and he secured it to the chest, double-checking the knots before giving the signal to pull.

    ¡®You¡¯d forget your own damn head if it wasn¡¯t firmly attached.¡¯

    As the chest was hoisted slowly upwards, Del climbed alongside it, keeping a steady hand on its side to prevent it from catching on jagged outcroppings. He reached the top just as the others were easing it onto solid ground.

    With everything and everyone finally above, the last task was to load the wagon.

    Jason¡¯s body was placed with care, his presence a quiet, sombre reminder of the cost of the night¡¯s events. The chest followed, wedged securely between the other supplies. Breeda, exhausted beyond words, was helped into the back, where she settled with a weary sigh.

    With the last of the preparations done, Merl swung himself up into the driver¡¯s seat, glancing once at the quarry before flicking the reins.

    The return to Stonebridge was met with little fanfare¡ªjust the sharp bark of a dog somewhere in the distance, a brief disturbance in the night before silence reclaimed the village. The wagon creaked under its burden, but the sound barely registered against the hush of sleeping homes and darkened streets.

    At the gate, the lone guard on duty barely reacted. As they approached, he gave Paolo a simple nod, then turned back to his post, pushing the wooden barrier closed behind them with practised ease. No questions. No ceremony. Just quiet understanding.

    Beyond the gate, another guard paced the far side of the square, his lantern casting shifting pools of light along the cobbled path. Del barely paid him mind as they reached their stop and began unloading. The tension of the night had ebbed away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.

    There were no long goodbyes¡ªjust simple farewells, the occasional hug, a handshake here and there. Small gestures of gratitude between people who had survived something they weren¡¯t quite ready to talk about. Each of the rescued villagers peeled off towards their homes, drawn by the promise of familiar walls and rest.

    Paolo was the last to depart, arranging to meet them in the morning to discuss everything properly.

    With that settled, Del, Jake, and Vita turned towards the inn.

    Vita had decided to stay in the village for a couple of days¡ªlong enough to regain her strength and to be there for anyone who might need her. It made sense, and no one argued.

    Lifting the chest onto his shoulder, Del caught Jake giving him an odd look. Not suspicion, just curiosity. He ignored it. Whatever change had come over him, whether from the stat points or the simple fact that he was still standing after all this, he was too bloody tired to dwell on it now. Tomorrow could bring tomorrow¡¯s problems.

    The inn¡¯s warmth was like stepping into another world, the golden glow of the fire flickering across the well-worn wooden beams, the familiar scent of ale and old timber wrapping around them like a comfort they hadn''t realised they needed.

    Jake placed a pint in front of him without a word, and Del took it gratefully, drinking deep. The first mouthful was sharp and cool, the kind of drink that settled into his bones and reminded him he was still here. Still breathing.

    Jake sat across from him, his own mug in hand. He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. ¡°That was a hell of a night¡¯s work.¡±

    Del let out a quiet chuckle, staring down into the foam. ¡°Aye. But we got them all back.¡±

    Jake nodded, his gaze distant. ¡°All apart from poor Jason.¡± He swirled his drink absently before taking a sip. ¡°But at least that bastard won¡¯t be stealing or killing anyone else.¡±

    There was strength in his words, a certainty despite the exhaustion dragging at both of them.

    Del finished the last of his pint and pushed himself up from the table.

    ¡°We can figure out what the fuck this was all about tomorrow,¡± he said, clapping Jake on the back as he passed. His body was already pulling him towards sleep. ¡°But for now, I need my bed.¡±

    Jake looked up, offering him a tired but genuine nod. ¡°G¡¯night, Del.¡± A brief pause, then softer, ¡°And thanks.¡±

    Upstairs, the hall was quiet, the wooden floor creaking beneath his boots as he reached his room.

    The door swung open to a familiar scene. Clothes lay wherever they had been discarded, boots kicked carelessly aside.

    Elara was sprawled across the bed, her limbs loose with the kind of sleep that came only from sheer exhaustion. Misty was curled against her side, a warm ginger ball of fur, tail flicking slightly in her dreams.

    Del stood in the doorway for a moment, a small, rueful smile tugging at his lips.

    ¡®We got back safe, girls. Neither of you the worse for it.¡¯

    Untucking his shirt, he pulled off his boots and let them fall where they may, shedding the weight of the night along with his gear.

    His mind was still buzzing. Questions. Theories. Threads left untied.

    ¡®Now we just need to figure out the whys and wherefores, Del, cross a few I¡¯s and dot a couple of T¡¯s.¡¯

    But that was for tomorrow.

    For now, he rolled the softly snoring elf just enough to make space, slid under the covers, and let the warmth of the bed pull him under.

    His eyes shut before his head even hit the pillow.

 Chapter 53 â€“ Appraisal

    Del surfaced from sleep gradually, pulled into wakefulness not by reluctance, but by the comforting warmth of the two figures curled beside him. Moving too quickly would disturb them, and he wasn¡¯t quite ready to do that just yet.

    At some point in the night, Misty had shifted positions. Now, she was curled half on his shoulder, half nestled into the crook of his neck, her small body radiating warmth. Each slow, rhythmic breath was punctuated by a soft, barely-there purr¡ªa steady, soothing vibration that, despite everything, made the world feel momentarily safe again.

    The other sleeper was Elara.

    She had rolled in close during the night, her arm draped lightly across his chest, one leg tangled over his. The warmth of her against him, the steady rise and fall of her breathing¡ªit was¡­ nice. Too nice.

    But reality had its demands.

    ¡®This is all very comfortable, but¡­ I really need the bloody bathroom.¡¯

    Del considered his options. A slow, calculated escape or the risk of waking them both?

    He opted for the former, shifting carefully, sliding out from beneath Elara¡¯s arm inch by inch.

    The moment he moved, she stirred.

    Sleepy eyes blinked open, clouded with the haze of half-dreams. A soft, murmured sound escaped her¡ªsomewhere between protest and acceptance. For a brief second, she nestled closer, pressing the warmth of her palm against his chest as though trying to ground herself before consciousness fully took hold. Then, sensing his intent, she shifted just enough to free him, eyes already drifting shut again.

    Del hesitated for half a breath, watching the way sleep pulled her back under, the gentle rhythm of her breathing deep and unguarded. The moment felt¡­ still. Uncomplicated. A stark contrast to the world they lived in.

    Then, with care, he slipped away.

    A faint, silver-grey light filtered through the window¡ªnot quite morning, but no longer deep night. Outside, the world still belonged to the quiet, the hush before the village stirred. The distant hoot of an owl drifted through the wooden shutters, fading into the rustle of unseen leaves.

    Far too early for a sane man to be awake.

    ¡®Damn beer before bed waking me up.¡¯ He grumbled internally as he padded away.

    Once he had dealt with necessities, he wasted no time returning to bed. Another hour or so of sleep wouldn¡¯t hurt.

    Rolling onto his side, he was met with a distinctly unimpressed feline. Misty gave him a narrow-eyed, huffy look before prancing across the mattress, repositioning herself once more with exaggerated dignity.

    Elara shifted too, rolling into his back, her arm lazily draping over him again.

    Just as sleep began pulling him under, something soft and warm brushed against the back of his neck¡ªa feather-light touch, barely there but impossible to ignore.

    Lips.

    Not an accident. A deliberate kiss.

    The warmth lingered, even after she had settled back against him, her breathing slow and even. It wasn¡¯t a demand, nor an invitation. Just¡­ a quiet act of closeness, freely given.

    Del¡¯s eyes remained open for a moment longer, the weight of it settling over him. He exhaled slowly, pressing his forehead into the pillow. Sleep found him eventually, but the ghost of that touch followed him into his dreams.

    By the time they made it down to the common room, the world had fully shaken off the last remnants of night. A fire crackled in the hearth, throwing flickering light across the well-worn wooden beams. The scent of fresh bread and crisp bacon curled through the air, mingling with the sharper bite of strong, black tea.

    Chairs scraped against the floor. Somewhere near the back, a pair of villagers murmured in low voices over steaming mugs. Donna moved efficiently between tables, the clink of crockery and the occasional good-natured bark of laughter giving the space a familiar, lived-in warmth.

    Del and Elara had barely taken their seats when Merl arrived, looking particularly eager as he raised a hand in greeting to Jake and Donna.

    I thought I might join you for some of Donna¡¯s bacon,¡± Merl announced, already eyeing the nearest platter as he dropped into a chair. ¡°Figure I¡¯ve earned it after last night. You wouldn¡¯t deny a man his well-earned breakfast, would you, Del?¡±

    Del snorted, stabbing his fork into a slice of bacon. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of it. But if you want to keep those fingers of yours, I¡¯d suggest ordering your own, you bacon thief.¡± Del grinned

    Merl chuckled, unfazed. ¡°You¡¯re in a dangerous mood, I see. Must have slept well.¡±

    Del hesitated for a fraction of a second, his mind replaying that moment just before he fell back to sleep. ¡°Well enough.¡± He agreed.

    The meal was accompanied by a vivid dissection of last night¡¯s events.

    ¡°I need to see Paolo later,¡± Del said between bites. ¡°We still need to finish getting to the bottom of all this mess, make sure nothing like it happens again.¡±

    Before anyone could respond, Vita appeared, sliding into the seat beside them.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Morning,¡± she greeted, her voice still holding the slight roughness of sleep. ¡°What did I miss?¡±

    They caught her up quickly, summarising what had already been discussed.

    ¡°I need to see Paolo as well,¡± she said once they had finished. ¡°So, if it¡¯s alright, I¡¯ll join you when you go.¡±

    Del nodded. ¡°Of course. I also have a few things I need you to take a look at when you¡¯re up to it.¡±

    That settled, they finished eating, washing down the last bites with mugs of warm tea before heading upstairs¡ªVita in tow.

    The moment they entered the room, Vita turned to Del with curiosity.

    ¡°So, what do you have for me to look at?¡±

    Del gestured to the chest, stepping over to unfasten the lid.

    ¡°I believe much of the contents fall into your line of work,¡± he said, lifting it open. ¡°So I¡¯d really appreciate it if you could help us figure out what¡¯s what.¡±

    Vita stepped forward, eyes widening slightly at the myriad vials, bottles, and assorted goods within. She let out a low whistle.

    ¡°This man was either an accomplished alchemist himself¡­¡± she murmured, reaching for the first of the vials, turning it in her fingers, watching how the liquid inside caught the light. ¡°¡­or else spent a lot of money to stock this.¡±

    One by one, she began sorting through them. Each bottle was given a careful examination¡ªswirled, held up against the window, studied with an appraising eye.

    Occasionally, she would ease out a stopper and take a cautious sniff. A wrinkle of the nose. A furrow of the brow. A nod of approval. Each reaction measured, her alchemist¡¯s instinct guiding her through the process.

    One or two vials warranted further testing. Vita dabbed a careful drop onto the tip of her finger, bringing it lightly to her tongue, pressing her lips together as she considered the taste.

    Her expression shifted between curiosity and calculation.

    Del watched her work, arms folded across his chest. There was something oddly methodical about the way she went through it all. A precision honed over years of practice.

    Whatever was in that chest, it was more than just a few trinkets.

    Del could almost feel the air crackling around Elara. Her fingers twitched, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch the bottles herself. Every time Vita lifted a vial, Elara¡¯s eyes tracked the motion, sharp with unspoken questions. The restraint was impressive¡ªnormally, she¡¯d be elbows deep in the examination by now. But for once, she held back, her curiosity tempered by patience. Just barely.

    Finally, Vita sat back on her heels, rolling her shoulders before exhaling a slow breath. The room was quiet, the only sounds the distant murmur of voices below and the occasional soft clink as a bottle settled against another. The faintest hint of crushed herbs lingered in the air, mingling with the musty scent of the wooden chest. Vita¡¯s fingers traced absently across a row of vials, almost as if deciding where to begin.

    ¡°So,¡± she said, glancing up at Del. ¡°What do you want to know?¡±

    She shook her head slightly at the chest, fingers trailing lightly across some of the bottles as if committing their placement to memory. ¡°To be honest, there are things in here I¡¯ll need more time with¡ªproper study to figure out exactly what you¡¯ve got.¡±

    Her fingers continued their slow path, almost a caress, before she picked up a collection of six identical bottles, each filled with a clear liquid.

    ¡°The basics first.¡± She held one up to the light. ¡°This is pure water¡ªhighly refined water infused with mana. It¡¯s used to dilute and create potions. These alone would set you back at least three silver a bottle.¡±

    Del let out a low whistle.

    Vita gave him a knowing look. ¡°Alchemy isn¡¯t a cheap pursuit,¡± she said dryly.

    She then gestured to another set of bottles, each filled with different solutions.

    ¡°These are acids and alkalis, all used for distilling ingredients and extracting their essential elements.¡± She turned one vial carefully in her fingers. ¡°If you want to make something truly potent, something worth the effort, you need proper extraction. Of course, you can always mash up a herb and slap it on, and it¡¯ll have some effect¡­ but the difference between a raw plant and a properly distilled ingredient is night and day.¡±

    Del¡¯s mind flickered back to his first crude attempt at herbal medicine, the mashed-up feldspar he¡¯d slapped onto a wound in his early days here. ¡®Medicine man you sure were not, my old chum.¡¯ He smirked faintly at the memory.

    The rest of the chest¡¯s racks held smaller vials, most barely containing more than a sip or two. As Vita sorted through them, the final tally emerged:

    <ul>

    <li>Five healing potions¡ªone particularly strong, capable of dealing with truly life-threatening injuries.</li>

    <li>Three vigour potions¡ªdesigned to rejuvenate a tired body, restoring near full ability.</li>

    <li>Two strength-enhancing potions¡ªcapable of granting a temporary surge in power, allowing the drinker to carry far more than usual. Duration unknown, but Vita guessed at around an hour.</li>

    <li>Seven unidentified vials¡ªmysterious liquids Vita couldn¡¯t immediately recognise, requiring further study.</li>

    </ul>

    Setting the last bottle down, Vita sat back and arched a brow. ¡°So, are either of you planning to take up alchemy?¡±

    Del shook his head. Herbalism had been useful, but full-blown alchemy? Not in his plans.

    Elara, however, hesitated before responding. "I¡¯m interested," she admitted, her voice quieter than before. "But I need to master my nature magic first. It¡¯s¡­ personal. When I was younger, I thought magic was just spells and incantations¡ªbig, dramatic things. But the more I learned, the more I realised that real power comes from understanding the world itself. Alchemy is just another way of bending nature to your will."

    She hesitated, running a fingertip along the rim of one of the vials. "I could make my herbs stronger. Make my magic stronger. Maybe even make something that¡­ lasts."

    Del watched her for a moment, noting the wistfulness in her tone. Something about the way she said it made it feel less like a plan and more like a wish.

    Her gaze flickered over the array of potions before them, and there was a hint of regret there¡ªthe pull of untapped potential.

    Vita gave a small nod, thoughtful. ¡°In that case, if you¡¯re considering it, I can offer you a potion pouch¡ªsafely holds up to twenty potions¡ªalong with a collection of pastes and powders.¡± She gestured towards the remaining stock, doing a quick mental tally. ¡°Plus, I¡¯ll give you twenty-one gold and six silver for the chest and its contents. You keep as many of the potions as you want, and I¡¯ll even throw in a couple of pots of feldspar paste.¡±

    Del raised a brow at the offer, then glanced at Elara. ¡®Is that a good deal? I sure don¡¯t want to be lugging this bloody chest around with us.¡¯

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a better idea of the value of this stuff than I do,¡± he said, watching her reaction.

    Misty chose that moment to stroll over, rubbing against Vita¡¯s side, angling for a scratch behind the ears. As Vita obliged, the feline sent a single thought into Del¡¯s mind.

    ¡®Trust.¡¯

    At the same time, Elara nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a fair price, Del. More than fair, to be honest.¡±

    Del let his gaze drift over the spread of vials, the open chest, the money Vita was offering. There was no denying it¡ªthis was a hell of a deal. Twenty-one gold wasn¡¯t a fortune, but it was more than a comfortable cushion. Enough to hopefully get them to the city without worry.

    And yet¡­ there was something about the chest. Something about the weight of it in his hands back at the quarry. The mage had been willing to die with it rather than leave it behind.

    His fingers drummed once against his knee. It was a good deal. A necessary one. But as he looked at the vials spread before them, a quiet voice in the back of his mind nagged at him

    ¡®What might you be about to give away, Del?¡¯

    Shaking off the thought, he extended his hand. "Looks like you¡¯ve got yourself a deal, Vita."

    Decision made, he extended his hand.

    She shook it firmly.

    Del exhaled, already thinking ahead. ¡°Let¡¯s get this packed away,¡± he said, rolling his shoulders, his exhaustion starting to creep back in.

    Then he gestured towards the door.

    ¡°And then¡ªlet¡¯s go see Paolo.¡±

 Chapter 54 â€“ Spellbooks and Letters

    The village square bustled with life, the morning air filled with the sound of chatter, the clatter of wooden carts, and the distant ring of a blacksmith¡¯s hammer. It was a stark contrast to their arrival, when whispers had followed their every step, suspicion lurking in every glance.

    Now, there were waves, nods, even grins, as if a weight had been lifted from the villagers'' shoulders. A young woman, who had once hurried her children away from them, now gave Elara a respectful incline of her head. A burly man at a stall raised a hand in greeting, his fingers still dusted with flour from shaping the morning¡¯s bread.

    Del took it all in, curious. ¡®What changed?¡¯

    He smirked slightly. ¡®Seems they don¡¯t have an issue with elves anymore.¡¯

    From the corner of his eye, Del saw a small shape hurtling towards them¡ªfast and determined.

    ¡°Elara!¡±

    Elara barely had time to turn before Naomi crashed into her, her tiny arms locking around Elara¡¯s waist with the sheer force of a child who had no intention of letting go.

    ¡°Mummy told me you got the Night Man!¡± she exclaimed, her words rushed with excitement, as though she had been waiting all morning to say them.

    Elara laughed, easily lifting Naomi off the ground and spinning her once, her grip firm but affectionate. ¡°And we couldn¡¯t have done it without you,¡± she said, her voice warm.

    Naomi squirmed happily, giggling before wriggling free. ¡°Nate, Nate, I know where you are hiding!¡± she shouted before tearing off down the street, her voice ringing like a triumphant war cry.

    They watched as she disappeared around a corner, her voice ringing through the streets like a triumphant herald.

    ¡°I bet she¡¯s cheating,¡± Elara chuckled, shaking her head.

    Del smirked. ¡°No doubt.¡±

    Paolo¡¯s office was a hive of activity, papers spread across desks, aides moving swiftly between tasks. The low hum of conversation filled the space, broken only by the sharp scratch of quills and the occasional rustle of parchment.

    At the centre of it all, Paolo stood engaged in an animated discussion, his voice low but firm as he gestured towards one of his aides. The moment he caught sight of them, however, his expression lit up, and he disengaged immediately, striding towards them with an outstretched hand.

    His grip was firm as he clasped Del¡¯s in greeting, his enthusiasm undiminished by the long hours he had no doubt already put in. Then, turning to Elara, he pulled her into a quick hug before stepping back and taking both of Vita¡¯s hands, his sharp gaze sweeping over her, assessing.

    ¡°You look much better than when we parted last night, my dear woman,¡± he said, his tone both warm and concerned. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±

    Vita smiled, inclining her head slightly. ¡°I have been better, Elder,¡± she admitted, ¡°and I will be so again.¡±

    Paolo grinned. ¡°Excellent.¡± Then, with a sweeping gesture, he motioned them forward. ¡°Come this way. We have much to talk about.¡±

    He led them past scribes and messengers, through the main hall and into his private office, shutting the door behind them. The space was comfortable, well-worn but orderly, its walls lined with shelves stacked with leather-bound records and thick ledgers.

    Paolo gestured towards a cluster of chairs arranged around a low coffee table.

    ¡°Sit, sit.¡±

    As they settled in, he reached for a cord near the wall and gave it a sharp tug. A moment later, the door cracked open, and a young woman peeked inside, her expression expectant.

    ¡°Can you fetch us a pot of tea and some biscuits, please, Sara?¡± Paolo requested.

    The girl nodded, disappearing without a word.

    As the door swung shut again, Paolo sighed and leaned back in his chair. ¡°I¡¯ve given Emily a couple of days off to recover,¡± he explained. ¡°She¡¯s staying with her brother for now.¡±

    Del nodded in approval. ¡°Are the others managing to get back on their feet?¡±

    Paolo exhaled through his nose, considering. ¡°Breeda will need some time,¡± he admitted, turning to Vita. ¡°If you could look in on her, I¡¯d be grateful.¡±

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    Vita nodded immediately. ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°The lads, though?¡± Paolo continued, a small smirk forming. ¡°They were all raring to get back to work the moment they woke up. Barely had their feet under them before they were off to check their homes, their stock, their livelihoods. I expect the tavern will be full tonight.¡±

    Del could imagine it already. A rowdy mix of tall tales, exaggerated adventures, and sheer, overwhelming relief. A chance to drink, laugh, shake off the weight of fear and survival.

    ¡®A night of letting our hair down and getting absolutely wrecked. Sounds like a blast.¡¯

    Paolo¡¯s expression shifted then, settling into something more serious.

    ¡°And what about you?¡± he asked, eyes sharp as they flicked between Del and Elara.

    ¡°Do you have any idea yet what all this was about?¡±

    Del met his gaze, his face grim.

    He nodded.

    Del reached into his pack, fingers brushing against aged leather, worn smooth by time and use. There was something oddly heavy about it¡ªnot in weight, but in presence, as if whatever lay within had not been meant for other hands to hold.

    He set it down between them with a dull thud, his fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.

    ¡°I found this,¡± he said, his voice lower than before. ¡°Some kind of journal. But I can¡¯t read it.¡±

    Vita, who had been watching him closely, extended her hand. ¡°May I?¡±

    Del passed it over without hesitation. The book was old but sturdy, the leather worn smooth by years of handling. Vita ran her fingers along the spine before carefully opening it, flipping through the pages with a scholar¡¯s patience.

    While she studied the script, Del reached into his pocket and withdrew a second document¡ªthe letter he had found alongside the journal.

    Clearing his throat, he began to read aloud.

    Ishmael,

    In the cavern of ¡®Ithnor¡¯ complete the circle and initiate the Rite of Krator.

    Find suitable conduits and be ready to complete the process on the new moon of Shoole.

    The heaving will come early this time.

    They will not be ready.

    C

    As Del read the last word, the air in the room felt different¡ªtighter, heavier, as if the very walls had absorbed the weight of the message.

    When he looked up, Vita was frozen.

    The journal lay abandoned in her lap, her fingers still half-curled around the edge of a page.

    Paolo had gone pale, his fingers twitching against the arm of his chair.

    A silence settled between them¡ªthick, expectant.

    Then Paolo spoke, his voice not quite steady.

    ¡°What in all the demons¡¯ hells¡­¡± he spluttered. He turned sharply to Vita. ¡°Do you know of these things? What does it mean?¡±

    Vita exhaled slowly, a rare flicker of uncertainty in her expression. ¡°I know little of these things,¡± she admitted. ¡°But I can make some educated guesses.¡± She held up one hand, ticking points off on her fingers.

    ¡°The cavern of Ithnor¡ªI would imagine that¡¯s the place where you rescued us.¡±

    ¡°The Rite of Krator,¡± Elara added, leaning forward, ¡°must have been the ritual he was preparing for.¡±

    Paolo¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°And the new moon of Shoole¡­ that¡¯s in two days.¡±

    A heavy silence fell over the room.

    Two days.

    Whatever had been planned, whatever horrific purpose the ritual was meant to serve¡ªit had been dangerously close to completion.

    Paolo exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his greying hair. ¡°Bringing in the heaving more than a hundred years earlier than normal¡­¡± He shook his head, his voice quieter now, edged with unease. ¡°That would have been a disaster.¡±

    He turned back to Del and Elara, his gaze steady now, the weight of his gratitude clear.

    ¡°We are in your debt,¡± he said solemnly. ¡°Had you not arrived when you did, I doubt we would have ever gotten to the bottom of things in time.¡±

    Del shifted slightly in his seat, but before he could respond, he caught Vita watching him.

    She said nothing, but her expression spoke volumes. A silent agreement with Paolo¡¯s words.

    And yet¡­ her focus had already drifted back to the journal.

    She flipped another page, her brow furrowing in concentration.

    Something inside that book had her attention.

    [Quest completed: Experience gained. Renown gained in Village of Stonebridge.]

    Vita¡¯s brow furrowed as she continued flipping through the journal¡¯s pages, her fingers moving with careful precision.

    ¡°Most of this¡­ I can¡¯t read,¡± she admitted, her tone edged with quiet frustration. ¡°Mages use a different kind of arcane script to alchemists.¡±

    Del smirked slightly. ¡®I guess you all like to protect your secrets.¡¯

    She didn¡¯t look up, still absorbed in her study. ¡°From the layout, though, it¡¯s a spellbook of some sort.¡±

    She turned another page. Then another. The parchment was aged but well-kept, the ink sharp despite its years.

    Then she reached the centre.

    On one side, a large arcane symbol sprawled across the page, bold and deliberate. On the other¡ªtight, indecipherable script, the ink darker, as though written with greater urgency than the rest of the text.

    The sharp gasp that escaped Vita¡¯s lips wasn¡¯t just shock¡ªit was something closer to revulsion.

    The sound ripped through the room, making Del¡¯s pulse jump as his hand instinctively tensed at his side.

    Del flinched instinctively, his pulse kicking up

    Vita stared at the page, her head shaking slowly, almost as if she were trying to deny what she saw, her breathing uneven, her head shaking slowly.

    ¡°No,¡± she muttered under her breath. ¡°No¡­ no.¡±

    Del leaned forward, his voice careful. ¡°What is it?¡±

    Vita didn¡¯t look at him. She just lifted a single, unsteady finger, pointing at the arcane symbol scrawled across the page.

    ¡°This sign¡­¡± Her voice was cold, but beneath it was something else. Something tainted with something close to fear.

    ¡°I know it.¡±

    There was a weight to those words, something deep-rooted.

    Something personal.

    Del had seen Vita in pain, exhausted, even fearful. But never like this.

    A tight, visceral disgust underpinned her words, curling at the edges of her voice like something foul tasted on the tongue.

    He didn¡¯t know much about magic, but he knew enough to recognise that whatever was on that page¡­ it wasn¡¯t just dangerous.

    It was worse.

    Vita swallowed, inhaling through her nose as if trying to steady herself. Her fingers curled into a tight fist, as if merely touching the page had contaminated her.

    ¡°It is the mark of Zelore.¡±

    The name fell into the room like a dead weight, a name that carried something old, something wrong.

    A name that meant something.

    Something bad.

 Chapter 55 â€“ Bathtime

    ¡®Who or what the fuck is Zelore?¡¯

    Del couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that he¡¯d just been served another curveball, another reminder of how little he truly understood about this world.

    ¡®I really need to start learning some basic facts about this damn place before I trip into something worse.¡¯

    His gaze drifted back to the arcane symbol staring up at him from the open journal.

    A black eclipse, the moon swallowing the sun¡ªbut at the centre, peering through the void, was a skull. Hollow eyes. Grinning teeth. There was something unsettlingly human about it, as though it wasn¡¯t just a design, but a presence.

    It was the sort of thing that crawled into the back of your mind and lingered.

    Elara¡¯s fingers hesitated for the briefest moment before she turned the page.

    ¡°He is Zelore,¡± she said at last, her tone measured but not dismissive. ¡°God of Darkness, the Underworld, and the Dead.¡±

    Del glanced at her, catching something in her expression¡ªnot quite fear, but something far more cautious.

    Elara exhaled through her nose, tapping the journal¡¯s worn pages as if steadying her thoughts. ¡°It makes sense,¡± she continued, but now her voice carried a quiet gravity. ¡°If someone was trying to bring forward the heaving, then invoking Zelore¡¯s power¡ªor at least his domain¡ªwould be a natural step.¡±

    She ran her thumb across the edge of the parchment, eyes flicking over the eclipsed sun and its grinning skull. ¡°He is not¡­ a mindless force of destruction. He is balance. A keeper of the dead. A guardian, not a conqueror.¡±

    A flicker of something¡ªwary respect, perhaps¡ªpassed through her gaze. ¡°But meddling with his domain?¡± She shook her head, lips pressing into a thin line. ¡°That has never ended well.¡±

    Del let out a slow, relieved breath.

    ¡®Thanks, lass. You don¡¯t know it, but you just came to the rescue yet again.¡¯

    ¡°It certainly seems to corroborate the letter,¡± he added, nodding towards the ominous passage they had read aloud earlier.

    Paolo rubbed his chin, his brows drawn in thought before shifting his gaze towards Del.

    ¡°You said you were planning on heading towards Stenfield?¡±

    Del nodded, still absently flipping through the mage¡¯s journal, trying to make sense of the disjointed notes and cryptic scribbles.

    Paolo exhaled in satisfaction. ¡°Excellent. Then may I entrust you with a letter to deliver to the Laird of Stenfield? We fall under her jurisdiction here, and she will need to be informed.¡±

    Del hesitated for half a second, but before he could voice any concerns, Vita spoke up.

    ¡°It might also be good for you to escort Naomi,¡± she suggested.

    That caught Del¡¯s attention. He looked up sharply.

    ¡°She trusts you,¡± Vita continued, ¡°and her father, Mr Cooper, has seen both of you prove yourselves more than capable of keeping her safe.¡±

    Paolo nodded in agreement. ¡°I shall speak to her parents later and advise them that she needs to go and find a teacher.¡±

    Del frowned slightly, shifting in his seat.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure we can take the letter,¡± he admitted, choosing his words carefully, ¡°but Naomi? I¡¯m not sure if¡ª¡±

    His own thoughts cut him off before Elara even had the chance.

    ¡®Think about this, Del. She¡¯s a child. She needs safety, stability, and someone who actually knows what they¡¯re doing. Which is not you.¡¯

    ¡®Oh, don¡¯t be dramatic. You¡¯ve survived gods, monsters, and eldritch horrors. A seven-year-old can¡¯t be worse than that. ¡­Can she?¡¯ he responded with dripping sarcasm.

    His jaw tightened. ¡®Really? Now they decide to argue?¡¯ Thoughts within thoughts begin to bicker.

    ¡®She¡¯ll be a responsibility.¡¯

    ¡®She¡¯ll be fine.¡¯

    ¡®She¡¯ll slow us down.¡¯

    ¡®She can already navigate better than you, let¡¯s be honest.¡¯

    His lips pressed together, still trying to frame a rational excuse when Elara, with perfect timing, leaned in.

    She arched a brow, smirking as though she could see the exact war raging in his head.

    ¡°Oh, hush,¡± she said breezily, rolling her eyes as if he were being ridiculous. ¡°I can manage one little girl. And I can help teach her along the way as well.¡±

    Del stared at her, searching for an opening, some way to argue.

    Elara tilted her head, gaze twinkling with mock challenge, daring him to try.

    ¡®Mate, if you think you¡¯re winning this argument, you¡¯re even dumber than usual.¡¯

    Del let out a slow, resigned exhale, running a hand down his face.

    ¡®Outnumbered and outgunned again, Del.¡¯

    With a reluctant but knowing nod, he conceded defeat.

    ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll plan to leave tomorrow,¡± he said. ¡°That gives us today to gather supplies and, most importantly, enjoy another of Donna¡¯s amazing dinners.¡±

    Paolo chuckled, standing from his chair. ¡°I shall have the letter delivered to the inn later today,¡± he assured them. ¡°For now, I need to go see the Coopers.¡± His gaze shifted to Vita. ¡°Vita, could you possibly come with me? You¡¯ll be able to explain the reason Naomi needs to leave far better than I.¡±

    Vita nodded, already gathering her things.

    The rest of the afternoon drifted by in easy familiarity, filled with the sounds and scents of the market. The air was thick with the aroma of fresh bread, roasting meat, and the faint spice of dried herbs stacked neatly in small wooden crates.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    The hum of traders bartering, villagers chatting, the occasional burst of laughter blended into a comforting background noise.

    Del relaxed into the atmosphere, letting the weight of the past few days settle.

    ¡®I really don¡¯t miss the hum of traffic.¡¯

    They moved between stalls, picking through supplies, careful to get only what they could carry.

    Two small tents, some dried food, a fresh restock of travel essentials¡ªnothing fancy, but enough to last the journey.

    At one point, Del stopped at a fishmonger¡¯s stall, examining the fresh catch laid out on smooth wooden boards.

    ¡°Two of these,¡± he said, exchanging a few coins for a pair of gutted fish.

    Elara raised a brow, watching him slip them into his pack.

    ¡°For Misty,¡± he said simply. ¡°She deserves it.¡±

    Elara smirked. ¡°Speaking of, where is she?¡±

    Del glanced around, suddenly aware of her absence.

    ¡®Where has that damned cat got herself off to now?¡¯

    By the time they returned to the inn, the afternoon sun had dipped low enough to cast long shadows across the village square.

    The scent of roasting meat drifted from Donna¡¯s kitchen, the warm glow of the hearth spilling through the open door, welcoming them home.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to have a long bath before dinner,¡± Elara announced as they stepped inside.

    She cast Del a sidelong look before giving an overly dramatic sniff.

    ¡°You could do with one too.¡±

    Del barely had time to react before she laughed and dodged his playful swipe, slipping past him towards the door with a grin.

    He shook his head, smirking as he followed her in.

    The Cock and Ball was already easing into its late afternoon lull by the time of their return. The air carried the faint aroma of roasted meat and spiced ale, a comforting backdrop to the steady clink of mugs and the occasional murmured conversation from a handful of lingering patrons.

    Elara barely paused before making her way straight to the bar.

    ¡°Jake, can I get a bath?¡± she asked, rolling her shoulders as if already imagining the warmth soaking into her skin.

    Jake gave a sharp whistle, signalling to his lad, who immediately darted off to arrange it.

    ¡°Give it a few minutes,¡± Jake said, already reaching beneath the counter. ¡°Soon be sorted.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t long before Del found himself with a tray in his hands, stacked high with thick slices of bread, cold cuts, and a steaming pot of herbal tea.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got a few bits to organise, so I think we¡¯ll have lunch in our room,¡± Del told him.

    Jake simply nodded, already turning his attention back to wiping down the bar¡¯s already pristine counter.

    Del smirked. The man had his rituals.

    By the time Del reached their room, the lad was already leaving, balancing two empty buckets as he pulled the door open. He stepped aside to let Del through.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Del acknowledged, stepping past and kicking the door shut behind him.

    The room was pleasantly warm, the steam curling lazily in the air, carrying the soft scent of lavender and the faint, clean trace of soap. The gentle crackle of the hearth mixed with the occasional drip of water from the tub, lending the space an almost tranquil stillness.

    Del set the tray down, exhaling slowly, feeling the tension of the past few days loosen ever so slightly.

    Elara was already sinking into the deep copper tub, the steaming water lapping against her skin as she stretched out with a contented sigh, her golden-blonde hair floating lazily at the surface before she pushed it back with a careless hand.

    She was utterly at ease, her movements relaxed and unhurried, as though this were nothing more than a routine end to an ordinary day.

    Del, however, was suddenly unsure where to look.

    ¡®Stop staring. Be normal. Don¡¯t be a bloody idiot.¡¯

    ¡®If she doesn¡¯t care, why the fuck should you Del?¡¯

    He focused on the tray of food, pretending that bread and cold cuts were the most fascinating things in the world.

    Elara let out a soft, relaxed hum, tilting her head back against the tub¡¯s curved edge.

    "Now this," she murmured, stretching slightly, causing a few lazy ripples across the water, "is exactly what I needed."

    Del huffed a quiet breath, nodding absently.

    ¡°You know,¡± he said after a moment, keeping his tone neutral, ¡°some people like to bathe in private.¡±

    Elara cracked one eye open, her expression bordering somewhere between amusement and confusion.

    "Some people are odd," she said simply, as if it were an objective truth.

    Del snorted, shaking his head. "Right. It¡¯s the rest of the world that¡¯s strange. Not you."

    "Obviously," she replied, stretching again, shifting slightly as she adjusted against the tub¡¯s edge, causing another unhelpful series of ripples across the water. "What¡¯s the issue, anyway? If you don¡¯t want a bath then don¡¯t. You don¡¯t smell that bad really."

    Del let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Comforting."

    "Besides, it¡¯s just a bath," she added, closing her eyes again. "Water. Soap. No great mystery to it."

    Del¡¯s mouth twitched. "You¡¯d be surprised how many humans might disagree."

    Elara cracked another eye open. "Well, then humans have some strange hang-ups."

    Del had no argument for that.

    Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck and busied himself with pulling out the vials from Vita¡¯s pouch, keenly aware of the naked, unconcerned elf only a few feet away.

    ¡®Focus, Del. Time to see exactly what we¡¯ve got here.¡¯

    Pulling out the pouch Vita had given them, Del began sorting through the vials, their glassy surfaces catching the flickering light from the lantern.

    ¡®Identify.¡¯

    A soft pulse of recognition hummed at the edge of his mind, followed by the familiar system readout.

    <ul>

    <li>Potion of Minor Healing ¨C A basic healing potion, able to heal minor wounds and stop bleeding.

    ¡®The four of them will be good when feldspar isn¡¯t enough.¡¯</li>

    <li>Potion of Major Healing ¨C A powerful potion, able to heal major fractures, restore lost limbs, and regenerate damaged internal organs.

    ¡®Only one, but that could prove crucial.¡¯</li>

    <li>Potion of Stamina Renewal ¨C Restores stamina to 75% of maximum.

    ¡®These three will come in handy.¡¯</li>

    <li>Potion of Minor Strengthening ¨C Grants a 40% strength boost for one hour.

    ¡®Two of these¡­ that could be useful in a pinch.¡¯</li>

    </ul>

    Satisfied, he turned his attention to the vials Vita hadn¡¯t been able to identify.

    Two remained a mystery, but the others came into focus:

    <ul>

    <li>Potion of Climbing (x2) ¨C Climb sheer walls easily. Duration: 2 minutes.</li>

    <li>Potion of Air ¨C Allows the drinker to breathe underwater or in noxious air for 5 minutes.

    ¡®No idea what we¡¯ll use these for, but they¡¯ll be useful at some point.¡¯</li>

    </ul>

    Then his fingers brushed against the last vial.

    A shiver ran through him.

    ¡®Identify.¡¯

    For a second, nothing happened.

    Then the response slid into his mind¡ªbut it was different this time. Where the others had felt neutral, factual, this one carried something else, something that made his skin prickle in an unsettling way.

    <ul>

    <li>Potion of Stealth ¨C Grants near-invisibility through intangible blending with surroundings.

    Caution: sound is not obscured.

    Duration: 10 minutes or until combat.</li>

    </ul>

    As the information settled, Del swore the shadows around the vial deepened, just for a moment.

    He rolled it between his fingers, frowning. The liquid was darker than the others, an odd smoky hue, shifting like trapped mist swirling inside glass.

    It was the kind of magic that made you feel watched.

    [Congratulations, your Identify skill has increased to Improved Identify.]

    Del smirked. Progress.

    A soft thump broke the silence as a ginger blur landed gracefully on the wooden floor.

    Misty.

    She strode forward like she owned the place, tail flicking, paws silent as breath as she approached.

    Del barely had time to register her return before she sauntered past him, barely sparing a glance for the spread of vials. She gave them a sniff, then turned her head slightly, ears twitching.

    She lingered, just for a second, in front of the stealth potion.

    Then, with a slow, deliberate stretch, she turned away, tail curling with feline finality, and hopped up onto the bed.

    Del watched her go, arching a brow. That was deliberate.

    A familiar nudge brushed against his mind, lazy, unhurried.

    ¡®So where have you been, then, little minx?¡¯

    Misty settled into a long, luxurious sprawl, her body angled just enough to ensure the best possible comfort while also taking up far more space than necessary.

    Then she turned her head, just slightly, and fixed him with a perfectly unreadable, smug expression.

    ¡®Exploring.¡¯

    Del narrowed his eyes.

    ¡®Exploring what?¡¯

    A slow blink.

    A stretch.

    A pause long enough to suggest she was debating whether answering was even worth her time.

    Then, finally¡ª

    ¡®Things.¡¯

    Del stared at her.

    She yawned, delicately curling her front paws under her chest.

    Conversation over.

    Del let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his temples. He wasn¡¯t going to win this one.

 Chapter 56 â€“ A gaudy ring

    Del glanced over at the copper tub, where only the top of Elara¡¯s head peeked above the rim.

    ¡°That water will go cold and wrinkle your skin,¡± he remarked.

    A lazy sigh drifted up from the bath. ¡°I know,¡± she admitted, stretching slightly, sending gentle ripples across the surface. ¡°Isn¡¯t that a wonderful thing, though? Nothing beats a long soak.¡±

    Del huffed a quiet laugh.

    ¡®Can¡¯t argue with that.¡¯

    With nothing else pressing at the moment, he turned his focus back to the small collection of items they had gathered along the way.

    Now that his Identify skill had improved, it was worth another attempt to figure out what they¡¯d actually found.

    Most of it was still beyond his ability to decipher, the magic too complex, too layered, refusing to yield its secrets.

    All except one.

    A ring.

    Del unwrapped it carefully, feeling the faint tingle of magic he had sensed when they first acquired it.

    It was, frankly, hideous¡ªa gaudy, oversized thing, far too bulky for his usual taste, but it was the only enchanted item they had managed to loot from the brigand who killed Lucas.

    They had tucked it away, too wary of curses to experiment, waiting until they could figure out its use safely.

    Now was as good a time as any.

    He turned it between his fingers, bracing himself for another frustrating ¡®unidentifiable¡¯ result.

    ¡®Identify.¡¯

    The response came instantly.

    <ul>

    <li>Minor Ring of Holding

    A space to hide your stuff. Can hold up to 20lb, approximately 2 feet in diameter and 3 feet deep. Items placed inside can be retrieved by inspecting the contents.</li>

    </ul>

    Del let out a low chuckle, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

    ¡®Now we¡¯re talking.¡¯

    ¡°You¡¯re laughing to yourself again, Del.¡±

    Elara¡¯s languid voice drifted from the tub, tinged with amusement.

    ¡°What have you come across now?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± Del countered, though he was absolutely caught in the act. ¡°And who says I found something?¡±

    He saw movement from the tub, then the slow rise of Elara¡¯s head peering over the rim, her golden hair slicked back, water still clinging to her skin.

    ¡°I am convinced,¡± she said, lips quirking into a grin, ¡°that you talk more to yourself than you do to me or Misty.¡±

    Del rolled his eyes but said nothing.

    Elara arched a playful brow, tilting her head. ¡°Now, what¡¯s made you so pleased with yourself?¡±

    Del hesitated for half a second, wondering if telling her now would lead to another full-body dive out of the bath¡ªand, sure enough, the moment he spoke, her reaction was predictably Elara.

    ¡°Remember that big, lumpy ring we got from the arsehole who killed Lucas?¡± he said. ¡°I finally identified what it does.¡±

    Her eyes lit up instantly.

    Water splashed across the floor as she practically leapt out of the tub.

    ¡°What?¡± she demanded, crouching beside him in an instant, dripping water everywhere.

    Del tried very hard to focus on the ring and not on the very naked, very enthusiastic elf currently dripping onto the floor next to him.

    He cleared his throat and held the ring out for her to examine. ¡°Seems it¡¯s some sort of hidden storage item.¡±

    Before she could press any closer, he grabbed a towel and draped it over her shoulders, more for his own sanity than hers.

    Elara barely acknowledged it, her focus locked onto the ring with an eager grin, completely unbothered by the entire situation.

    Del, meanwhile, was having a very different experience.

    ¡®Del, you are too much of a fucking gentleman to handle this.¡¯

    Del briefly closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose.

    ¡®Like hell. More like you¡¯re just too bloody out of touch and friggin¡¯ nervous to know how to handle her.¡¯

    It was a hard truth.

    He¡¯d spent the better part of twenty years alone, save for the occasional lonely-bar encounter¡ªfleeting moments of human connection that never led anywhere.

    ¡®And it¡¯s got to be coming up ten years since I last even stepped foot in a bar.¡¯

    The thought was both sobering and ridiculous. Here he was, stuck overthinking his own awkwardness, when all Elara had done was dry herself off after a bath¡ªcompletely oblivious to the absolute hurricane of over-analysis going on in his head.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    A sudden, eager voice yanked him back into the present.

    ¡°So, how does it work?¡±

    Del snapped his focus back to the ring in his hand.

    He made the very stupid mistake of glancing towards her, only to find his head level with her waist as she stood towelling dry.

    ¡®Damnit, girl.¡¯

    He immediately ripped his gaze away, firmly fixing it on the ugly lump of jewellery in his hand.

    Elara leaned in over his shoulder, peering at the ring. Strands of damp golden hair clung to her neck and cheek, a few stray locks brushing against Del¡¯s face as she moved closer.

    He twitched. ¡°Oi,¡± he muttered, scrunching his nose as one clung stubbornly to his cheek.

    Elara tilted her head slightly, blinking at him before reaching up to gently pluck it away with a faintly amused smirk.

    ¡°There. You¡¯re free,¡± she said, flicking the stray strand aside.

    ¡°Much appreciated,¡± Del deadpanned.

    Her attention returned to the ring, and she tapped it lightly with her finger, watching the way the dull metal failed to catch the light.

    ¡°So you have finally figured out what this ring is? I have been curious ever since we found it.¡± she mused.

    Del resisted the urge to swat her hand away. ¡°Oi careful,¡± he grinned. ¡°This thing is actually very useful. It¡¯s basically a storage space.¡±

    She hummed, considering it. ¡°Well¡­ I suppose that¡¯s handy.¡±

    Del lifted a brow. ¡°You sound disappointed.¡±

    ¡°I was hoping it was cursed,¡± she admitted with a faux-dramatic sigh, resting her chin against his shoulder. ¡°Maybe something that would make your hair fall out. I¡¯d finally get to see what you¡¯d look like properly bald.¡±

    Del narrowed his eyes at her. ¡°That¡¯s cruel.¡±

    She grinned, unrepentant. ¡°Oh, I know.¡±

    He rolled his eyes, turning the ring between his fingers. ¡°I could try putting something in it. See how it works.¡±

    Elara tilted her head, pretending to mull it over thoughtfully. ¡°You could start with your sarcasm. You¡¯ve got a surplus.¡±

    Del huffed a laugh. ¡°Or better yet, I could store all my patience in it. Then, whenever I have to deal with you, I can just take some out.¡±

    Elara gasped, mock-offended. ¡°You make it sound like spending time with me is some great hardship.¡±

    Del smirked. ¡°I¡¯d never say it out loud.¡±

    She gave him a light shove, shaking her head as she straightened. ¡°Unbelievable.¡±

    As Del continued to examine the ring, Misty appeared as if summoned by sheer feline instinct, padding silently onto the table beside him.

    She gave the ring a cursory sniff, then sat down with exaggerated disinterest, curling her tail neatly around her paws.

    Del side-eyed her. ¡°Not up to your standards?¡±

    Misty yawned, stretching luxuriously, then gave him a slow, calculating blink.

    ¡®Gaudy.¡¯

    Del scowled. ¡®It¡¯s practical.¡¯

    Misty flicked an ear, then turned her gaze pointedly toward Elara, who was still towelling her hair dry.

    Del didn¡¯t need words to interpret that particular look.

    He sighed. ¡®Not a word from you.¡¯

    Misty blinked again, this time with unmistakable smugness, before hopping off the table and sauntering toward the bed.

    Del chuckled, finally slipping the ring onto his finger, feeling the subtle pulse of magic settle around his hand, a brief bubbling sensation deep in his gut¡ªthe same place he was starting to associate with mana.

    ¡®Alright, let¡¯s see what we¡¯ve got.¡¯

    ¡®Menu.¡¯ Nothing.

    ¡®Contents?¡¯ Nope.

    ¡®Ring?¡¯ This is getting frustrating.

    ¡®Just show me what you¡¯re damn well holding!¡¯

    A sharp blip of recognition pulsed through his mind, and suddenly, a mental panel unfolded before him, crisp and orderly¡ªa series of four boxes, each neatly labelled.

    <ul>

    <li>Coins: 15 gold</li>

    <li>Daggers of Venom (pair)</li>

    <li>Trail rations: 30</li>

    <li>Letter of Passage</li>

    </ul>

    ¡®Huh. Not bad.¡¯

    He focused on the letter of passage, trying various commands before finally managing to pull it free from the ring¡¯s storage.

    ¡®Why don¡¯t these bloody things come with instruction manuals?¡¯

    His own mind was quick to snipe back at him.

    ¡®You daft old soak, when was the last time you ever read a flipping manual?¡¯

    Del huffed under his breath, unfolding the letter as Elara returned, now fully dressed, and flopped down onto the seat beside him.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± she asked, watching as he smoothed out the parchment.

    "A letter of passage, apparently."

    Letter of Passage

    To the Honourable Laird of Stenfield,

    The bearer of this missive is on urgent business under the protection of King Reinhold III.

    I would urge you to assist him with every haste to pass and continue on to the High Mountains.

    Please grant him any supplies he may need and furnish him with directions for the safest path.

    Your humble servant,

    Sindar Threll; 2nd Minister to the Council of 12.

    Del lowered the letter, eyebrows raised.

    ¡°Well¡­ that¡¯s interesting.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing the supplies in the ring belonged to the original owner,¡± Elara mused.

    Del nodded, turning the band over in his fingers. ¡°And our long-dead robbers never figured out what this ring actually did.¡±

    ¡°If they had,¡± she pointed out, ¡°then surely whatever was in there would be long gone¡ªand it¡¯d be filled with their own loot.¡±

    Del let out a low chuckle, slipping the ring back onto his finger.

    ¡°Guess that makes this ours now.¡±

    Del returned the letter to the ring¡¯s storage, the parchment vanishing with a flicker of unseen magic.

    ¡°Apart from that,¡± he said, stretching his fingers, ¡°there¡¯s a bit of gold, some daggers, and trail rations.¡±

    Elara nodded, tilting her head in thought. ¡°Well, there¡¯s little we can do for the original owner, no clue who it was or where his body lies. But when we get to Stenfield, it looks like we¡¯ll have more than one thing to tell the Laird.¡±

    Del hummed in agreement.

    He pulled out the two daggers, testing their weight in his palms before slipping them neatly into two empty slots on his knife bandolier.

    One could never have too many sharp edges in a place like this.

    He secured the fastenings, then stretched his arms over his head.

    "Let¡¯s go eat," he suggested.

    Elara turned, one eyebrow arching with pointed amusement.

    ¡°Nope,¡± she declared. ¡°I¡¯m going downstairs for a hot tea. You, however, are not having anything more until you have bathed.¡±

    Del blinked. ¡°I¡ªwhat? You said I didn¡¯t smell that bad!¡±

    ¡°I lied.¡± With dramatic flair, Elara pinched her nose between her fingers, shaking her head in exaggerated suffering.¡°I am not sitting next to you at dinner while you smell like a battlefield and a horse had a very unfortunate child.¡±

    Before he could protest, she flounced out of the room, leaving only the faint scent of lavender in her wake.

    Del stood there for a long moment after Elara left, arms still half-raised from where he¡¯d been stretching.

    ¡®Women.¡¯

    He sniffed his armpit.

    ¡®Seriously, I¡¯m not that bad.¡¯

    Misty, curled up on the bed, lifted her head just enough to stare at him, ears twitching.

    A single, unimpressed thought drifted into his mind.

    ¡®You are.¡¯

    Del sighed. ¡®Traitor.¡¯

    Misty flicked her tail, her job done, and promptly went back to napping.

    Shaking his head, Del peeled off his gear, shivering as he stepped into the now-cold bath.

    The moment his skin hit the water, he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

    "Bloody hell¡ª!"

    He braced both hands on the edges of the tub, forcing himself to lower in slowly, his breath coming in short, annoyed huffs.

    ¡°Elara got to enjoy a nice, warm soak,¡± he grumbled. ¡°And I get an ice trap.¡±

    Steam still lingered faintly in the air, but it was all deceptive lies¡ªthis water had turned on him.

    He gritted his teeth, settling in against his better judgment, and tried to at least make the most of it.

    His muscles did need the soak, even if it wasn¡¯t quite as relaxing as he¡¯d hoped.

    For a moment, he let his eyes drift half-closed, listening to the muffled noise of the inn below. The soft clatter of plates, the distant hum of voices.

    His mind wandered briefly to what lay ahead.

    Stenfield. Naomi. The Laird. Whatever the hell was in that journal.

    A lot still needed unravelling, but for now, just for a few minutes¡ª

    He let himself relax.

    Right before the water decided it needed to be even colder.

    Del swore under his breath and fully submerged, determined to get this over with.

 Chapter 57 â€“ A needed conversation

    The tavern had been alive deep into the night, the air thick with the scent of spilled ale, woodsmoke, and the warm press of bodies revelling in the afterglow of survival. Laughter and raised glasses had filled the space, toasts made in Jason¡¯s memory and to the bravery of both the rescuers and the rescued. For once, Jake had thrown open a barrel on the house, a grand gesture that saw many patrons staggering home on unsteady legs¡ªwhile some never made it out at all, curling up in shadowed corners of the taproom to sleep off their indulgence.

    By the time Merl finally took his leave and the tavern had begun to quieten, Del turned to Elara. She met his gaze with a slow nod before rising, her movements carrying the lazy weight of drink. Without a word, she started up the stairs. Del lingered only long enough to bid goodnight to Jake before following, though his own steps lacked their usual sureness.

    The stairs swayed beneath his feet.

    ¡®You are a total dufus, Del. Try one fewer drink next time.¡¯

    His foot slipped against the worn wood, and his shin met the step with a sharp crack. He gritted his teeth, hissing through them.

    ¡®Yeah, like that¡¯s going to happen when it¡¯s a free bar.¡¯

    By the time he reached the room, Elara was already sprawled across the bed, dead to the world. Her gentle, entirely unladylike snores were a testament to just how deeply the drink had taken hold. Del couldn¡¯t help but smile as he nudged her, rolling her over just enough to claim his own space before sinking into sleep¡­

    Heat pressed against him. Too hot. Too tangled.

    He surfaced groggily, caught in a knot of limbs and blankets. Wrestling himself free, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and padded barefoot across the floor, the cool wooden planks a stark contrast to the heavy warmth left behind. The inn was still dark, its silence broken only by the occasional groan of settling beams and the distant chorus of snoring patrons below. He slipped down the corridor, dealing with the inevitable consequence of too much ale.

    As he made his way back, movement flickered at the edge of his vision¡ªa shadow slipping past, wrapped in nothing but a towel.

    Elara.

    She moved with the stiff-legged urgency of someone whose morning priorities aligned precisely with his own.

    Del smirked. ¡°Glad I''m not the only one waking early to empty out.¡±

    She shot him a bleary glare over her shoulder before disappearing behind the door.

    By the time she returned, he had already straightened the chaos of their bed, covers untangled, a pillow retrieved from where it had met the floor. He sat propped against the headboard, fingers idly tracing patterns against the sheets as his mind churned through a dozen thoughts¡ªwhat needed doing, what still didn¡¯t add up, and the nagging sense that he was missing something important.

    Elara barely hesitated. The towel was tossed aside, and with a shiver, she dove straight back into the warmth of the bed, curling against him without ceremony.

    Del tensed.

    ¡®What is it with women that makes them think we¡¯re their personal hot water bottles?¡¯

    He shifted slightly, attempting to create some breathing room between his steadily warming body and the cool press of her bare skin.

    It didn¡¯t work.

    Internally, he warred with himself.

    ¡®I need to say something to her.¡¯

    The thought made him wince.

    ¡®Del, you are a coward and a fool.¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t be so damned critical. I just don¡¯t want to say something out of place.¡¯

    ¡®Fucking idiot. You have a naked girl curled up against you, and you don¡¯t want to h¡ª¡¯

    ¡°Are you talking to yourself again?¡±

    Her voice was thick with sleep, but amusement danced at the edges. She tilted her head just enough to peer up at him, her golden hair spilling against his chest.

    Del startled slightly. ¡°What makes you say that?¡±

    ¡°You always breathe a little funny when you do it. And sometimes you make these little grunts and things.¡± A sleepy smirk tugged at her lips. ¡°I had an uncle who did the same thing all the time.¡±

    A mental groan echoed through Del¡¯s skull.

    ¡®See, fool? Now you¡¯re just some mad old uncle figure.¡¯

    ¡°I guess I¡¯ve been living alone too long,¡± he admitted, rubbing a hand over his face.

    Elara hummed in quiet agreement, shifting against him.

    ¡°So what were you discussing this time?¡± she asked, voice light with curiosity.

    ¡®Just fucking talk to her.¡¯

    Del tried not to notice the way her fingers had started idly tracing patterns against his chest, the soft scrape of nails against skin sending unwelcome shivers along his spine.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡®It might make her upset. What the fuck am I supposed to say?¡¯

    He adjusted his position¡ªsubtly, carefully¡ªhoping she wouldn¡¯t notice the entirely predictable effect her presence was having.

    She did.

    And she was definitely smiling.

    ¡®Just damn well talk to her!¡¯

    Elara¡¯s gaze lifted to his, concern flickering in her deep green eyes. ¡°Have I done something wrong? Are you cross with me?¡±

    Del exhaled slowly, cursing himself. His hesitation, his silence¡ªit was making her doubt herself, and that was the last thing he wanted. This wasn¡¯t on her. It was his own damn issue.

    ¡°No, not at all,¡± he assured her. ¡°I¡¯m just a bit cross with myself, is all.¡±

    The tension in her shoulders melted, her body relaxing once more against the mattress.

    ¡®You, Del, are pathetic.¡¯

    His jaw tightened slightly, but he pushed the self-reproach aside and forced himself to focus.

    ¡°But can I ask you something?¡± His voice was cautious, careful. ¡°Only if it won¡¯t upset you.¡±

    Elara shifted, rolling onto her side, propping her head up on one arm so she could watch him properly. Her hair tumbled over one shoulder, stray golden strands catching the low light.

    ¡°You can ask me anything, Del,¡± she said, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. ¡°And why would it upset me?¡±

    He took a slow breath, steadying himself. His heart was thudding¡ªtoo fast, too uneven¡ªand for the life of him, he couldn¡¯t figure out why this conversation was making him feel like some awkward fool of a teenager, nervously working up the courage to ask a crush to a prom.

    ¡°I¡¯m new to Gondowa, as you know,¡± he began, keeping his voice level. ¡°And you¡¯re the first elf I¡¯ve ever met, so I don¡¯t really know the customs here.¡±

    She nodded solemnly, waiting for him to continue.

    ¡°Is nudity¡­ a thing among elves? Or just common on the mainland?¡± He hesitated. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ where I¡¯m from, it¡¯s only usual in more intimate circumstances.¡±

    For a moment, she looked puzzled. Then, with a soft, bell-like laugh, she shook her head.

    ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t know about humans¡ªI haven¡¯t met many till now. But for elves¡­¡± She gave an elegant shrug. ¡°It depends on circumstances.¡±

    She frowned slightly as though thinking it over, then suddenly tossed the covers aside.

    Del¡¯s breath caught.

    ¡°Why?¡± she asked, her humour now laced with the faintest hint of concern. ¡°Does my body displease you?¡±

    He reacted instinctively, grabbing the sheets before they uncovered him completely and yanking them back enough to ensure he remained covered.

    ¡°Not at all, Elara,¡± he said hurriedly. ¡°You¡¯re a beautiful woman.¡±

    He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and other areas, causing his words to stumble slightly as he tried to form them.

    ¡°Look, I¡¯ll be blunt,¡± he continued, his voice steadying. ¡°I¡¯m older than you. I¡¯ve had my share of experiences, and in my life, when I¡¯ve shared a bed with someone, it was seldom just for sleep.¡±

    He saw the slight flush creeping along Elara¡¯s own cheeks now, the faintest touch of pink against her fair skin.

    ¡°I find you very attractive,¡± he admitted. ¡°But¡­ I won¡¯t take advantage of you being here with me¡­ I just don¡¯t know the rules.¡±

    Elara said nothing at first. She simply studied him, her expression unreadable.

    Del could practically feel the internal debate happening behind those sharp green eyes.

    ¡®I bet she¡¯s having her own indoor argument now,¡¯ his inner voice remarked smugly.

    ¡®Shut up, you damn twat.¡¯

    She exhaled softly, gaze thoughtful. ¡°With elves,¡± she said at last, ¡°nudity is not abnormal. We dress¡ªor don¡¯t¡ªdepending on weather, company, and circumstance.¡±

    She glanced down at herself, entirely unconcerned by her own exposed skin.

    ¡°However,¡± she continued, ¡°it does also have sexual connotations in the right circumstances. This is normal. Natural.¡±

    Del took that in, nodding slowly.

    ¡°So,¡± he asked quietly, feeling the nerves creeping back up his spine, ¡°is your nudity and freedom one of circumstance and company¡­ or one of a sexual nature?¡±

    Elara¡¯s eyes flickered, her lips curving up slightly at the question.

    ¡°Does my body make you feel uncomfortable?¡± she asked.

    Del considered this, genuinely giving it thought before answering.

    ¡°No. Not in itself,¡± he admitted with a quiet chuckle. ¡°I¡¯d be lying if I said I didn¡¯t enjoy it. But¡­ I need to know in what manner I¡¯m supposed to take it.¡±

    She studied him a moment longer, then lifted a single finger to her lips, eyes narrowing slightly in thought.

    Elara¡¯s voice was steady, thoughtful. ¡°When I first met you, my reaction was one of gratitude. You saved me¡ªliterally. If you hadn¡¯t come when you did, I would have been dinner for those green bastards.¡±

    Del nodded but remained silent. It was her turn to speak, and she deserved his full attention.

    ¡°As I travelled with you, I learned you were both wise and a fool,¡± she continued, her lips quirking slightly. ¡°You know so much and yet so little at the same time. But in here¡±¡ªshe reached out, poking a finger against his chest¡ª ¡°you are a good and honest man.¡±

    She gave herself a small, decisive nod, as if confirming the thought aloud.

    ¡°You¡¯ve proven your values to me time and again,¡± she went on, her voice steady. ¡°And yes, I do find that attractive. I am comfortable with you, so my body doesn¡¯t need to be unnecessarily covered.¡± A teasing lilt entered her tone as a small, knowing laugh escaped her lips. ¡°But I also get a bit of a thrill when I catch you sneaking a look.¡±

    Del stiffened slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t want to seem like a perv,¡± he said, half in defence, half in admission. ¡°But you are pleasing to look at.¡±

    Elara tilted her head. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what a ¡®perv¡¯ is, but I am not ashamed for you to enjoy looking at me.¡± Amusement danced in her expression as she rolled onto her back, stretching languidly, the movement deliberate.

    Del let out a soft laugh. ¡°Hey, not fair.¡±

    She turned back onto her side, the playfulness in her eyes shifting into something more contemplative.

    ¡°As for¡­ sexually,¡± she said, her tone growing more serious, ¡°am I allowed to say, I don¡¯t know?¡±

    Del remained quiet, letting her shape her thoughts in her own time.

    ¡°In elves, although we reach physical maturity around eighteen or twenty, we are not considered adults until we reach forty,¡± she explained. ¡°It is rare to engage in sexual activity before then¡ªnot unheard of, but rare.¡± She paused, her expression carefully neutral.

    ¡°Also,¡± she continued after a moment, ¡°communion between elves and other races is considered something of a taboo. Again, not unheard of, but it usually results in the elf being excluded from elven society. Shunned.¡±

    Del opened his mouth to protest, but before he could speak, she lifted a finger to his lips, silencing him with a gentle touch.

    ¡°I find you attractive,¡± she said simply. ¡°But to consider more¡­ I need to be very sure of where I am within myself before that could become a possibility. Do you understand?¡±

    Her gaze was steady, unguarded.

    ¡°I trust you,¡± she added. ¡°And I know you respect me for who I am.¡±

    Del met her gaze without hesitation. ¡°Of course I do,¡± he said, his voice quiet but firm.

    Elara exhaled softly, a trace of uncertainty still lingering in her expression. ¡°So¡­ can we just carry on as we are and leave the future to look after itself?¡± she asked, her voice edged with a hint of nervousness.

    Rather than answering with words, Del reached over, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her back into their earlier embrace. She melted against him, her body fitting easily against his as he rested his chin lightly atop her head.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get a bit more sleep before we have to be up for breakfast,¡± he murmured.

    The faint glow of the lamp still cast flickering shadows across the walls. He reached over, turning the wick down until the room was swallowed in a comfortable, muffled darkness.

    Elara sighed contentedly, shifting slightly as she nestled into a more comfortable position, her breath warm against his skin. A moment later, she pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck, the touch barely more than a whisper.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she murmured.

    Del tightened his hold around her just slightly, the quiet weight of understanding settling between them.

    Neither of them needed to say anything more.

    As the warmth of sleep pulled them both under, the last thing Del registered was the slow, steady rhythm of her breathing against him¡ªpeaceful, unguarded, and entirely at ease.

 Chapter 58 â€“ A final breakfast.

    Morning crept in slowly, tugging Del toward wakefulness before he was entirely ready. The bed was warm, the blankets tangled around him in a way that spoke of a deep, comfortable sleep. His limbs carried the satisfying ache of rest, though the conversation from the night before still lingered in his thoughts, leaving a curious kind of contentment.

    The soft glow of early sunlight bled through the small window, filtering past wooden shutters that rattled faintly in the morning breeze. The world outside was already stirring¡ªhoofbeats clattered in the streets, voices rose in muted conversations, and the distant clang of metal on metal suggested the first movements in the blacksmith¡¯s forge. Somewhere below, the inn itself was waking. The scent of freshly baked bread and sizzling meat carried up through the floorboards, warm and inviting. A chair scraped against stone, a muffled curse followed as someone¡ªlikely still feeling last night¡¯s indulgence¡ªknocked over a tankard.

    Del exhaled, adjusting slightly beneath the covers.

    And then Misty landed on his chest.

    A solid thump knocked the breath from his lungs as a very smug bundle of ginger fur settled atop him, her paws kneading lightly against his ribs.

    ¡®Wake up, Del. The hunt begins,¡¯ came her smooth, knowing voice in his mind.

    Del cracked one eye open to find two golden feline eyes staring imperiously down at him, her tail curling neatly around her paws. ¡°It¡¯s a bloody breakfast, not a hunt,¡± he muttered.

    ¡®Hunt. Food. Same difference,¡¯ she replied airily.

    She lifted a paw and gave his face a deliberate prod.

    Del grunted, reaching up to push her off, but Misty simply sidestepped out of reach with the grace of a creature who knew she was superior in every way.

    ¡®You are slow in the mornings. You should work on that.¡¯

    ¡°I was sleeping,¡± he grumbled.

    ¡®Clearly. And yet, here you are, awake. Because of me. You may thank me now.¡¯

    He was about to respond when a sudden warm weight draped across his back.

    A soft hum, low and lazy, tickled his ear.

    ¡°Oh no,¡± came Elara¡¯s sleep-thick voice, amusement laced in the words. ¡°You belong to the cat now, Del. I don¡¯t think you get a say anymore.¡±

    Del twisted slightly to glance back at her. She had yet to fully emerge from sleep, her golden hair a tousled mess against the pillow. One arm was thrown across his waist, her fingers grazing absently against his stomach as she murmured something incoherent and buried her face into his shoulder.

    ¡°Enjoying yourself?¡± he asked dryly.

    She gave a slow, exaggerated stretch, her body pressing against his just enough to remind him of how little she cared for personal space.

    ¡°Very much so.¡±

    Misty, unimpressed with being ignored, flicked her tail against Del¡¯s face.

    ¡®You will remove yourself from the bed now. There is food. Priorities, human.¡¯

    Elara giggled sleepily. ¡°She¡¯s acting all bossy this morning.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s bossy every morning.¡±

    ¡®I can still hear you,¡¯ Misty added, tone dripping with feline superiority.

    Del exhaled through his nose and nudged Elara gently. ¡°Alright, lazybones, time for breakfast.¡±

    She grumbled something indecipherable, then let out a slow sigh before finally rolling onto her back, stretching once more before blinking up at him with a sleepy, teasing smile.

    ¡°You could carry me downstairs,¡± she mused.

    Del snorted. ¡°And have you making dramatic demands for special treatment the whole way? Not a chance.¡±

    Elara pouted playfully but didn¡¯t argue, pushing herself up on one elbow. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, but she let the moment pass. Instead, she poked his side with one cool fingertip.

    ¡°Fine, but only because I smelled sausage,¡± she conceded.

    ¡®Finally. The important matters are being addressed,¡¯ Misty sighed.

    Del swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretching with a satisfied groan, before hauling on his clothes and shoving his feet into his boots. Misty leapt effortlessly to the floor, tail flicking as she padded toward the door with the kind of purposeful strut that only she could master.

    As Del rose, Elara shifted, yawning as she sat up, ruffling her already messy hair. The warm scent of lavender clung to her, mingling with the lingering traces of the night¡¯s sleep. She let out a small, pleased sigh, rubbing a hand across her face before glancing toward him.

    ¡°Go on ahead,¡± she murmured. ¡°I¡¯ll be down in a minute.¡±

    Del nodded, stepping toward the door.

    Misty, however, sat directly in the doorway, tail wrapped neatly around her paws. She narrowed her eyes, then lifted her head as if assessing him.

    ¡®Do not dawdle,¡¯ she warned.

    Del sighed. ¡®I swear, you¡¯re worse than an old woman.¡¯

    ¡®An old woman would not be able to fit into small spaces and steal your warmth. Be grateful.¡¯

    With that, she turned and pranced downstairs, the soft thump-thump-thump of her paws disappearing into the scent of breakfast below.

    Del smirked, shaking his head before following.

    The smell of breakfast was already curling through the air as Del stepped into the main room of the inn, the rich, mouth-watering aroma of bacon, sausage, and fresh bread pulling him fully into wakefulness. The warmth of the hearth had driven away the lingering chill of morning, and the scent of herbal tea mixed with the more indulgent scent of sizzling fat and crisped edges.

    The taproom was quiet compared to the rowdy, ale-soaked revelry of the night before. Most of the patrons had already moved on or were nursing their hangovers in silence, hunched over plates of food with slow, deliberate movements. A few empty tankards still littered the far tables, evidence of last night¡¯s excess, and the faintest lingering scent of stale beer clung to the air beneath the more enticing breakfast aromas.

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    The door to the kitchen was open, Donna was already at work, moving with her usual brisk efficiency, a flour-dusted apron tied over her skirts as she flipped sizzling rashers of bacon with a practiced hand.

    Misty trotted ahead of Del, tail high, ears forward, her golden eyes locked onto Donna with a clear sense of expectation.

    The innkeeper¡¯s wife turned just in time to spot her. Her face lit up with unmistakable delight.

    ¡°Well now, there¡¯s my favourite little lady,¡± she cooed, wiping her hands on a cloth before reaching down to scratch Misty behind the ears. ¡°Come for your special breakfast, have you?¡±

    Misty arched into the touch, purring loudly.

    ¡®She understands the correct way to greet me,¡¯ the cat observed smugly in Del¡¯s mind.

    ¡®She spoils you,¡¯ Del dropped into a seat at one of the sturdy wooden tables.

    ¡®As she should.¡¯

    Donna turned back to the large iron pan where sausages sizzled and popped in their own juices. She plated a portion, then reached for another small dish, setting aside a few choice cuts with a look of absolute devotion.

    Making final adjustments to Misty''s plate, Donna smiled at the cat. "There, presentation fit for a lady indeed" she said.

    Misty blinked up at Del with victorious satisfaction, before leaping effortlessly onto the bench beside him.

    Elara wandered in a moment later, her golden hair still slightly dishevelled from sleep, though she had at least attempted to tame it with a loose plait. She moved with the slow, unbothered grace of someone who did not believe in rushing the morning, stretching slightly before dropping into the seat across from Del.

    ¡°Good morning, Donna,¡± she greeted with a soft, appreciative smile as the woman placed a freshly brewed cup of herbal tea in front of her.

    ¡°Mornin¡¯, love,¡± Donna replied, already sliding a plate of toast her way, knowing exactly what Elara would want.

    Del¡¯s own plate landed in front of him a moment later¡ªhash, eggs, thick-cut bacon, and a couple of sausages.

    Misty¡¯s plate arrived right after¡ªsausage, sliced and arranged as if plated for nobility.

    Del gave the cat a pointed look. ¡®You do realise you¡¯re just a cat, right?¡¯

    Misty licked one paw delicately, completely ignoring the comment before daintily sampling a piece of sausage.

    ¡®And yet, here I am, eating better than most of the humans in this establishment. Curious, isn¡¯t it?¡¯

    Del rolled his eyes but didn¡¯t argue, instead cutting into his perfectly crisped bacon and letting the smoky, salty flavour melt on his tongue.

    The morning passed in easy conversation, the kind that carried no weight, just light remarks about the journey ahead, the food, and the general peacefulness of the morning compared to the revellry of the night before. Donna flitted back and forth between the tables, chatting briefly but never lingering too long, always moving, always working.

    ¡°You¡¯re off today, aren¡¯t you?¡± she asked at one point, pausing long enough to wipe her hands on her apron as she glanced at Del.

    He nodded, swallowing a bite of egg before replying. ¡°Heading to Stenfield. Should take about a week, from what I have heard¡±

    Donna hummed, arms crossing over her chest. ¡°Paolo mentioned something about that. You¡¯ll be going through Hybern, then?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the plan.¡±

    She frowned slightly, then shook her head. ¡°Just be careful. I know travellers pass through all the time, but it¡¯s been an odd season. Roads feel less safe than they used to.¡±

    Elara arched a brow over her cup of tea. ¡°How so?¡±

    Donna hesitated, then shook her head again. ¡°Could just be me being an old worrier, but I keep hearing things. Bandits a bit bolder than usual. Probably nothing, but¡­¡± she trailed off, giving a small shrug.

    Del exchanged a glance with Elara but said nothing for now.

    The conversation drifted again, easy and unburdened, but the words lingered.

    By the time their plates were cleared, Misty was thoroughly pleased with her breakfast, stretching lazily before padding after Donna as she moved back to the kitchen¡ªno doubt hoping to charm her way into an extra treat.

    ¡°I think your cat just abandoned you,¡± Elara remarked as she pulled on her gloves.

    Del smirked. ¡°That implies she was ever mine to begin with.¡±

    Elara laughed, shaking her head as they both rose from the table.

    ¡°Well, shall we?¡± Del asked, stretching briefly.

    Elara nodded, brushing a few crumbs from her tunic. ¡°Let¡¯s go see what Paolo has for us.¡±

    The morning air was cool and fresh, the last wisps of dawn mist curling through the streets as Del, Elara, and Misty stepped out of the inn. The town of Stonebridge was bustling with morning activity¡ªmerchants setting up their stalls, the rhythmic clatter of tools in use, and workers setting about their day echoing around the square.

    Paolo¡¯s stood just ahead, near the gates to the elders¡¯ residence. As they approached, Del spotted Naomi and her parents, standing close together, their final goodbyes unspoken but written across their faces.

    Naomi practically vibrated with excitement, shifting on her feet, her eyes darting between Del and the road beyond the gate. This was a grand adventure for her, something new, something bigger than the quiet life she¡¯d always known.

    Her mother, however, looked far less enthusiastic.

    Mrs Cooper stood stiffly beside her husband; arms wrapped around herself as though holding in her emotions. The corners of her eyes glistened, but she blinked rapidly, keeping the tears at bay. Her husband¡¯s hand rested firmly on her shoulder, though his face was carved into careful neutrality.

    They both understood that Naomi going was hard, but necessary. Understanding did not make parting any easier.

    Paolo was stood by a stack of supplies, his expression as composed as ever. Next to him, Merl loomed, arms crossed, his smile broad in the early light.

    ¡°Ah, finally.¡± Merl laughed. ¡°Thought you¡¯d gone and decided to stay in bed all day.¡±

    Elara smirked. ¡°We considered it, but Misty had other plans.¡±

    Misty flicked her tail, her tone laced with amusement.

    ¡®I have priorities. Unlike some.¡¯

    Merl passed Del a carefully wrapped bundle. ¡°Here,¡± he said simply.

    Del took it, unwrapping the cloth to reveal a finely crafted sword, its edge gleaming in the morning light. Alongside it, two knives¡ªone balanced for fighting, the other heavier, built for utility. Del ran a finger along the blade, testing its edge, about to ask how much¡ªbut one look at Merl¡¯s expression silenced him before he could even open his mouth.

    It was a gift. One that wasn¡¯t up for debate.

    With a quiet nod, Del set the weapons aside. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Merl simply grunted. ¡°Better than that battered thing you were carrying before. And that¡¯s being generous.¡±

    Paolo went to Elara, handing her a new quiver filled with arrows and a bow, its craftsmanship far superior to the crude goblin off cast she¡¯d been using.

    Elara took it carefully, running her fingers over the polished wood, testing the draw with a small pull before giving a satisfied nod. ¡°Now this,¡± she murmured, ¡°is a bow worth carrying.¡±

    Paolo allowed himself the barest hint of a smile.

    With their supplies sorted, the group moved toward Stonebridge¡¯s southern gate.

    Beyond it, the dirt road stretched out, winding through rolling hills before disappearing into the distance. Somewhere beyond those hills lay Hybern, and past that, Stenfield.

    Paolo walked with them the last few steps before stopping just before the threshold. He grasped Del¡¯s hand firmly, his grip strong, unwavering.

    ¡°It¡¯s about a week to Stenfield,¡± he said, his tone matter-of-fact. ¡°You¡¯ll pass through Hybern on the way. Maybe longer, depending on how she manages.¡± His gaze flicked pointedly toward Naomi, though there was no unkindness in it.

    Naomi lifted her chin in quiet defiance but said nothing.

    Paolo then handed Del a sealed letter. The wax bore his personal insignia.

    ¡°This tells the Laird everything that¡¯s happened here,¡± he explained. ¡°It also gives you my commendations.¡±

    Del turned the letter in his hand, nodding. ¡°I appreciate it, Paolo. It¡¯s been good meeting you.¡± He hesitated for just a second before adding, ¡°And I¡¯m glad we could help.¡±

    Paolo¡¯s expression softened¡ªjust a fraction. ¡°So am I.¡±

    Merl huffed, stepping forward and pulling Del into a meaty, bone-crushing hug before doing the same to Elara.

    ¡°Well, my friend,¡± he said, voice thick with something almost like emotion, ¡°it¡¯s been¡­ interesting times.¡±

    Elara laughed. ¡°That¡¯s one way to put it.¡±

    Merl clapped a heavy hand on Del¡¯s back. ¡°Take care on the road. And know you¡¯re welcome at my forge anytime.¡±

    Del nodded, meaning it when he said, ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to that.¡±

    With a final round of farewells, they turned toward the open road, stepping through the gate and leaving Stonebridge behind.

    They had barely gone twenty yards before Naomi suddenly spun on her heel and bolted back.

    Her mother barely had time to react before Naomi threw herself into her arms, clinging tightly.

    For a moment, she said nothing, just buried her face against her mother¡¯s shoulder, breathing her in, holding onto the moment.

    Then, with a deep, steadying breath, she pulled away, squared her shoulders, and marched back toward Del and Elara, her steps full of determination.

    Del watched as she rejoined them, her gaze fixed forward now, eyes bright with purpose.

    And with that, they left Stonebridge behind, stepping into the unknown road ahead.

 Chapter 59 â€“ Blisters and Funnips

    The first day passed in quiet progress, the road winding gently through fields of well-tended farmland. Rows of broad-leafed crops swayed under the occasional gust of wind, their deep green hues stretching toward the sky. Scattered farmsteads, their thatched roofs weathered and sun-bleached, stood at intervals, smoke curling lazily from chimneys as families went about their morning routines. The occasional sight of a worker leading a plough beast¡ªsturdy, six-legged creatures with thick, shaggy hides and blunt faces¡ªserved as a reminder that civilisation still held its grasp on this stretch of land.

    Beyond the fields, patches of woodland softened the horizon, their edges trimmed where cultivated land met the wilderness. Strange birds flitted between the branches, some no larger than a thumb, their iridescent feathers flashing violet and green as they darted through the air. A few skittering lizards, their tails ending in curling spirals, basked on sun-warmed rocks before vanishing into the undergrowth at the sound of approaching footsteps.

    Naomi managed well for most of the morning, her excitement carrying her through the first few miles. She had practically buzzed with energy when they set off, eyes constantly darting to every new sight along the way. But by midday, the enthusiasm had faded, replaced by an unmistakable slump in her shoulders.

    ¡°My feet hurt,¡± she announced, dragging each step like it weighed a stone. ¡°A lot.¡±

    Del had been expecting this.

    ¡°Let¡¯s stop for a bit,¡± he suggested, steering them toward a wide tree near the road, its gnarled roots stretching out like a web across the grass.

    Naomi made a show of her suffering, flopping onto the ground with a theatrical groan before reaching down to tug at her boots.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do that, Naomi,¡± Del warned.

    She paused, looking up at him with a frown. ¡°But they ache so much, and my boots hurt.¡±

    ¡°And if you take them off, your feet will swell, and then you won¡¯t be able to get them back on again.¡± He dropped his pack near a large stone and gestured toward it. ¡°Sit here, lean against the rock, and put your legs up on the pack. It¡¯ll help ease the aching.¡±

    Naomi eyed him with deep scepticism, then, with a resigned sigh, did as she was told.

    ¡®Wearing in new boots is never fun,¡¯ Del thought as she flopped back dramatically against the stone.

    ¡°Will they always hurt?¡± she asked, staring at her feet as if they had personally betrayed her.

    ¡°No,¡± Elara cut in, crouching beside her. ¡°A day or two more, maybe. Once you¡¯re used to all the walking, your legs will toughen up.¡±

    Naomi let out another heavy sigh. ¡°Alright. I guess.¡±

    The sheer defeat in her voice made Del chuckle. He handed her some bread and cold meat to chew on, then did the same for Elara and Misty. The cat, who had spent the morning perched atop Del¡¯s pack like some noble dignitary, accepted her portion with an air of quiet entitlement.

    As the small fire crackled, sending thin tendrils of smoke curling into the still afternoon air, the comforting scent of warming tea drifted through the clearing. The silence stretched, broken only by the occasional chirp of unseen insects and the rustling of undergrowth as small creatures scurried unseen through the foliage. The world here felt settled, at ease with itself. Even Misty, usually sharp-eyed and alert, had taken to a slow, lazy grooming session, flicking her tail in contentment.

    When it was time to move on, Naomi rose with exaggerated reluctance, hobbling like an old woman.

    Del sighed and crouched down. ¡°Alright, come here.¡±

    She blinked at him in surprise. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Get on,¡± he said, motioning to his shoulders. ¡°You can be our lookout. But you have to point out anything interesting you see, deal?¡±

    Naomi¡¯s grin split her face in an instant. ¡°Deal!¡± She clambered up, settling onto his shoulders with all the grace of an enthusiastic goblin.

    With her vantage point secured, they continued along the river. The cultivated lands grew sparser, the wilderness creeping back in as they left the last farms behind. Trees pressed closer to the road now, their branches arching overhead, creating dappled patterns of light across the dirt path.

    Naomi took her scouting duties seriously, pointing out every oddity that caught her attention.

    ¡°There¡¯s a zivver! It has four wings, but watch out for the lower ones¡ªthey¡¯re sharp!¡± she announced, gesturing wildly to where a small, finch-like creature flitted between the branches. Its lower wings flickered like slivers of glass, catching the sunlight as it darted toward a cluster of blue fruits.

    ¡°See that rock?¡± she pointed again. ¡°It looks like a fat pig!¡±

    Del followed her gaze to a moss-covered boulder that did, indeed, have a round, lumpy shape to it.

    ¡°Good eye,¡± he said, indulging her observations with a nod.

    He had expected the enthusiasm to wear off, but she remained diligent. Whenever she spotted something, she called it out, and he took mental notes, slowly piecing together more about the world they were moving through.

    It was during one of these observations that he finally put a name to a creature they had already encountered.

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    ¡°Funnips!¡± Naomi shrieked excitedly, pointing toward a meadow where several squat, furred creatures lounged in the grass.

    At first glance, they looked harmless¡ªsmall, rounded things with twitching noses and oversized ears. But Del knew better.

    ¡®So that¡¯s what those meat-eating bunnies are called,¡¯ he thought, finally placing a name to them.

    Naomi¡¯s excitement faded slightly as she lowered her hand. ¡°Mummy says we shouldn¡¯t play with them,¡± she said solemnly. ¡°She said they¡¯re fun when they¡¯re little, but then they nip off your fingers for dinner.¡±

    She gave a small shiver.

    Del barked out a laugh. ¡°That seems like wise advice.¡±

    She nodded sagely, as if imparting the greatest of wisdom.

    Misty stretched, her golden eyes gleaming. She glanced at Del, then turned toward the undergrowth.

    ¡®I hunt,¡¯ Misty told him, her tone carrying the smooth certainty of a creature who had never once doubted her own skill. Then, without another word, she vanished into the undergrowth, a ripple of ginger fur disappearing between the tangled roots and trailing vines.

    They continued on, the road crunching softly beneath their boots as the valley stretched ahead. The warmth of the afternoon sun settled on Del¡¯s shoulders, casting long shadows across the path. Naomi was still perched atop him, her fingers absently playing with a loose strand of his hair as she hummed a quiet, tuneless melody.

    The world around them was alive with sound¡ªthe distant trill of a rattle-wing, the steady babble of the river to their left, the occasional rustling in the grasses as unseen creatures shifted and scurried about their business.

    Then, a sharp, high-pitched squeal pierced the air.

    It was the kind of noise that instantly put a person on edge¡ªshrill, frightened, the unmistakable sound of something realising it was at the wrong end of the food chain. Naomi stiffened slightly, her humming cutting off as they all turned toward the source.

    Where moments ago there had been a meadow full of funnips¡ªthose deceptively cute little carnivores lounging among the wildflowers¡ªnow there was only a swathe of flattened grass and settling dust. The creatures had scattered, their panic evident in the swirls of disturbed earth and the distant flashes of their round, furry bodies disappearing into burrows or deeper cover.

    A few heartbeats later, the culprit strolled into view.

    Misty, her tail high and eyes gleaming with satisfaction, sauntered toward them with a leisurely, unhurried grace. Dragging behind her, its limp form leaving a trail in the dust, was a funnip nearly as large as she was. She stopped at Del¡¯s feet and released her prize with an air of smug accomplishment.

    ¡®Dinner,¡¯ she informed him simply.

    Elara let out a low whistle, crossing her arms. ¡°Didn¡¯t take her long.¡±

    Naomi stared, wide-eyed. ¡°That¡¯s a big one.¡±

    Del glanced down at the sprawled funnip, its plump body still, its long ears twitching slightly in the breeze. He supposed he shouldn¡¯t be surprised¡ªMisty was an exceptional hunter, after all¡ªbut seeing her drag back something of this size was still impressive.

    ¡°Well,¡± he said, nudging it lightly with his boot, ¡°I guess we get to find out how they taste.¡±

    Misty, evidently satisfied with her contribution to the group, launched herself up onto Elara¡¯s shoulder in one smooth, effortless motion. She looped herself around Elara¡¯s neck like a luxurious scarf, her purring settling into a low, steady hum of contentment. Within moments, her eyes fluttered shut.

    Del met Elara¡¯s gaze and offered a sheepish smile.

    He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Only fair, my passenger is the heavier.¡±

    She rolled his eyes but said nothing.

    They pressed on, the road unfurling before them like a ribbon of packed earth and scattered stones. The landscape began to shift subtly as the hours passed. Where earlier the valley had been dense with woodland, its towering trees creating a thick canopy overhead, now the land began to open up. The slopes still bore clusters of trees¡ªtwisted old oaks with gnarled roots, delicate saplings reaching for the light¡ªbut the valley floor stretched wider, its character softening.

    Tough grasses rippled in the breeze, interspersed with patches of scrubby bushes dotted with small, deep-purple berries. Their scent mingled with the sharper tang of brambles, carried on the shifting air. Every so often, a flicker of movement betrayed the presence of unseen creatures¡ªsmall lizards with frilled necks darting between the rocks, strange insects that glistened like polished amber clinging to the stalks of wildflowers.

    The river ran alongside them, its once-shallow waters now deepening into slow-moving pools where the current thickened. The pebbled bed, once clearly visible, had vanished beneath shifting strands of riverweed, their long tendrils swaying like silk banners in the current. Occasional bursts of movement rippled through the water¡ªsmall darting fish weaving between the greenery, their sleek bodies flashing silver in the dappled light.

    Del watched as one broke the surface, snatching an unfortunate insect mid-flight before vanishing again with barely a ripple. The water settled, only for another to follow, a flicker of scales and a telltale splash marking its success.

    ¡®I need a rod,¡¯ he thought absently, his gaze lingering on the dark shapes beneath the surface. It was an idle thought, but a persistent one. The kind of thought that settled in the back of his mind and waited for an opportunity. He briefly considered fashioning one from a sturdy branch, tying a bit of thread to the end, but dismissed it almost as quickly. No point in wasting the effort when he could just buy one at the next town.

    Besides, Misty was a fine ¡®fishercat¡¯ when she decided to be. And Elara¡ªwell, she had an uncanny knack for bow hunting.

    No sense competing when delegation worked just fine.

    ¡®You are being a bit misogynistic, Del, expecting the ladies to look after your needs.¡¯

    His inner critic was immediate, sharp, needling.

    ¡®Bullcrap,¡¯ he countered. ¡®That¡¯s just delegating to those better suited to the task. Equality and all that woke shit.¡¯

    A dry, mocking laugh echoed in the back of his mind. He scowled at himself.

    Fed up with his own internal bickering, he brought them to a halt at a broad, open stretch of land beside the river¡ªa good place to camp. The ground was flat and dry, with a natural break in the trees providing a clear space for tents.

    ¡°Let¡¯s set up for the night,¡± he said, perhaps a bit gruffly.

    Elara gave him a mildly amused look but said nothing. Instead, she simply shifted Misty from her shoulders, setting the cat down before unfastening her pack. With easy efficiency, she pulled out a waterskin and headed toward the river to refill it.

    While the tents went up, Del allowed Naomi the much-anticipated luxury of removing her boots. She practically sighed in relief, wiggling her toes as she stretched her legs out in front of her.

    ¡°Go wash your feet in the river,¡± he instructed. ¡°It¡¯ll help.¡±

    She didn¡¯t need telling twice. She scrambled to her feet and dashed toward the water, splashing into the shallows with an enthusiasm that made Del briefly consider the likelihood of her simply wading off downriver.

    When she returned, her feet dripping and her face flushed with satisfaction, Del knelt down and dried them carefully. The blisters were small but present, and he reached for the small tin of feldspar ointment he kept in his pack.

    ¡°This will help,¡± he told her, applying the salve with practiced ease.

    She watched intently as he worked, then pulled her feet up to inspect them, flexing her toes as if testing them out.

    ¡°Thanks, Del,¡± she said, flashing him a grin. ¡°You¡¯re the best.¡±

    He snorted. ¡°Tell that to your feet in the morning.¡±

    She giggled and, in the next breath, was off again¡ªthis time to chase Misty around the camp, her laughter carrying through the evening air.

    Del leaned back, watching them for a moment.

    ¡°Watch out for funnips,¡± he called after her.

    She shrieked with laughter and ran faster.

 Chapter 60 â€“ Skinning 101

    Del untied dinner from where he had secured it to his pack, the funnip¡¯s limp body swinging slightly as he set it down. It was heavier than he expected for such a compact creature, its dense muscle betraying the power packed into those deceptively cute limbs. He turned it over in his hands, inspecting the thick fur, the sharp little claws, the slightly open mouth that revealed two rows of needle-like teeth. The thing really did look like it was designed to eat fingers for fun.

    He drew his skinning knife, rolling his shoulders as he eyed the carcass. Time to see if he had any more luck with a crazy, carnivorous rabbit than he¡¯d had with a giant pig.

    The fire crackled steadily, casting flickering light over the camp as he made his first incision. The blade parted the fur, but before he could get much further¡ª

    ¡°I wanna try!¡±

    Del barely had time to process the words before Naomi plopped down beside him, eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and curiosity.

    Elara, still standing with her arms crossed, let out a quiet snort. ¡°Oh, this¡¯ll be good.¡±

    Naomi didn¡¯t seem to notice the amusement in her tone. She leaned in, peering at the funnip as Del hesitated, then turned to her expectantly.

    ¡°You sure? It¡¯s not as easy as it looks,¡± he warned.

    ¡°I can do it,¡± she said confidently. ¡°I helped Mummy with chickens sometimes.¡±

    Del arched a brow but handed her the knife, shifting the carcass slightly so she had a better angle. Naomi took the blade with all the confidence of a child about to prove themselves, biting her lip in concentration.

    She started the next cut, but the moment the blade sliced through the flesh, her expression shifted¡ªbrows furrowing, nose wrinkling slightly as the first hints of warm, raw scent hit her. The funnip¡¯s insides were a deeper red than she expected, its muscle fibrous and strange, the scent stronger than the mild poultry she was used to.

    Her resolve wavered.

    She swallowed, adjusting her grip. ¡°It¡¯s... slippery.¡±

    Del fought back a smile. ¡°Yeah, that happens.¡±

    Naomi pressed on¡ªdetermined¡ªbut her knife work quickly became more tentative. Then, as she accidentally nicked the membrane of something unpleasant, a thin, sour-smelling fluid seeped out.

    Her face twisted in horror. She abruptly dropped the knife and scrambled back.

    Elara burst out laughing.

    ¡°Oh no, what happened to all that confidence?¡±

    Naomi shot her a withering glare before rubbing her hands frantically on her tunic. ¡°It¡¯s gross.¡±

    Del chuckled, retrieving the blade. ¡°Told you it wasn¡¯t easy.¡±

    Naomi huffed but didn¡¯t argue. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll find tubers instead.¡±

    Elara grinned. ¡°That¡¯s probably for the best. If you see any fat ones, grab them¡ªwe want the best for our first meal of the trip attempt.¡±

    With a dramatic sigh, Naomi stomped off toward the patch of earth they¡¯d scouted earlier, clearly eager to redeem herself.

    Del turned back to the carcass. Before he could start again, he noticed Elara watching him with an amused smirk.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t done much of this, have you?¡± she observed.

    Del exhaled through his nose. ¡°Is it that obvious?¡±

    She nodded, that impish smile tugging at the corner of her lips. ¡°I told you, a wise fool. I¡¯m still not sure how someone who seems to know so much knows so little about the basics.¡± She winked. ¡°I blame your parents. Now, give me that knife before you ruin dinner or cut off your finger.¡±

    He didn¡¯t argue. With a sigh, he passed the blade over.

    What followed was essentially a skinning 101 lesson, with Elara acting as the patient instructor. She crouched beside him, demonstrating how to open the abdomen cleanly, making sure to avoid piercing anything that would taint the meat. Her movements were quick, sure, each cut precise.

    Unlike the hacking disaster that had been his first attempt at butchering a boar, this was fluid, methodical.

    ¡°See? Simple,¡± she said, peeling the hide back in one clean motion. ¡°No mess, no stink. And, best of all¡ª¡± she lifted the neatly gutted carcass¡ª¡°you don¡¯t waste anything.¡±

    Del gave a grudging nod, watching as she separated the offal, setting aside the best cuts for Misty, who had returned from wherever she had been lurking. The cat sat with the eerie stillness of a predator waiting for its share, her golden eyes locked onto the fresh liver as if willing it into her possession.

    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s better than me accidentally turning it inside out,¡± Del admitted.

    ¡°Much better.¡±

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    He took the pelt and, under Elara¡¯s watchful supervision, carefully washed it in the river before laying it out over a flat rock to dry. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it would do. If he could collect a few more decent hides, he might even be able to trade them at the next town.

    By the time he returned to the fire, the scent of roasting funnip filled the air¡ªrich and savoury, the fat sizzling as it dripped into the flames. He turned the meat occasionally on the spit, sending wafts of herby meaty smells through the cool evening air.

    Naomi had returned with a triumphant grin and a bundle of knobbly tubers, which she set down beside Del.

    ¡°Best ones I could find,¡± she declared.

    ¡°Good work,¡± he said, ruffling her hair before she swatted his hand away.

    She took her place beside Elara, watching the fire, her earlier horror at the butchering process forgotten in the excitement of the meal to come.

    Del sat back, feeling unexpectedly content as he chopped the tubers into rough chunks, dropping them into a small pot of boiling water. The fire popped, sending sparks spiralling into the night, the scent of cooking and woodsmoke wrapping around them like a blanket.

    They hadn¡¯t covered as much ground as planned¡ªNaomi¡¯s shorter stride and sore feet had slowed them down¡ªbut all things considered, it hadn¡¯t been a bad day. They had food, warmth, and a quiet night ahead.

    ¡®Altogether, not bad, Del,¡¯ he reassured himself, stirring the pot absently.

    Across from him, Naomi sat close to Elara, listening intently as the older woman spun a story from her own childhood. The girl¡¯s expression was rapt, her wide eyes flickering in the firelight. Misty, curled at Elara¡¯s feet, flicked her tail in idle amusement. Whether the cat was actually paying attention to the tale or simply enjoying her meal of liver and kidney was hard to say, but she looked thoroughly content.

    ¡®You know, Del, there are far worse places to be.¡¯

    He gave the spit another turn, watching the golden-brown sheen of the funnip¡¯s crisping skin.

    ¡®As long as there are no crazy wizards,¡¯ he amended.

    The tubers were done, the funnip roasted through. He pulled his knife free and carved the meat into portions, the aroma thick and rich.

    ¡°Food¡¯s ready,¡± he announced, serving up steaming plates.

    Elara accepted hers with a smirk. ¡°Well, at least we know Misty¡¯s an effective hunter.¡±

    Naomi, already eagerly reaching for a piece, nodded enthusiastically. ¡°I bet mummy would make this even better.¡±

    Del chuckled. ¡°Alright, it¡¯s not your mum¡¯s, but it¡¯s not bad for trail grub.¡±

    With that, he dug in, the warmth of the fire on his skin and the quiet murmur of voices making the evening feel¡ªif only for a little while¡ªlike something close to home.

    The food was hot and filling. The funnip had a distinctly gamey flavour, but it was surprisingly tender, its juices running freely and soaking into the tubers¡ªstrag roots, according to Identify. Their earthy, slightly nutty taste balanced the richness of the meat, making for a satisfying meal. The scent of roasting fat and charred skin still lingered in the air, mixing with the woodsmoke drifting lazily from the fire.

    Del sat back, replete and comfortable, stretching out his legs with a satisfied sigh.

    ¡°That was altogether not bad,¡± he said, patting his stomach.

    Naomi, still working through her last mouthfuls, nodded enthusiastically, while Elara responded with a subtle burp¡ªjust enough to be noticed. Naomi froze mid-chew, eyes wide, before bursting into laughter. Elara smirked, the corners of her lips twitching before she lost control and joined in, the sound of giggling filling the camp.

    Del shook his head in amusement.

    The sun was slipping toward the horizon now, its fading light staining the sky in deep oranges and dusky purples. The fire flickered steadily, crackling softly as it burned through the last of the larger logs. The world felt peaceful, calm.

    As the evening drew in, they settled Naomi into one of the tents. She curled up without protest, the weight of the day¡¯s travel finally catching up to her. A few quiet murmurs from inside confirmed that Misty had joined her, the cat no doubt curling into whatever warm spot she could claim.

    Elara lingered by the fire, watching as Del nudged at the embers with a stick, sending tiny sparks spiralling upward. The air rich with woodsmoke, mingled with the last traces of their meal.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a good start to our trip,¡± she mused.

    Del hummed in agreement. ¡°We¡¯ve got a long way to go, though. Do you know much about the land ahead?¡±

    She shook her head, a faint frown crossing her features. ¡°No, very little. I was never privy to the reports of our emissaries, and I was too young to be involved in the scouts¡¯ conversations.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯ll be a learning experience for both of us.¡±

    Elara regarded him for a moment, then gave a small chuckle. ¡°You really haven¡¯t spent much time in the wild before, have you, Del?¡±

    He huffed a quiet laugh, glancing at her. ¡°My life before I landed on Gondowa was quiet, to say the least. I was injured a while back, and although it¡¯s better now, for a long time, I could do very little. Before that, I lived in a quiet town, doing mostly scribe¡¯s work. I got my food from a market, had a roof over my head, and a fire to keep me warm. The most dangerous thing I had to deal with was Misty¡¯s claws whenever she decided my leg was a suitable scratching post.¡±

    Elara listened, nodding along as he spoke, her expression thoughtful. He kept it vague, as much truth as he could afford to share. She deserved honesty, but some things were better left unsaid.

    ¡°It does explain a lot,¡± she said as he finished. Then she smirked, something flickering in her eyes. ¡°The Wirral and the Dosha¡ªyou¡¯re all over them.¡±

    ¡®Damnit, here we go again. What the fuck is a Wirral? Or a Dosha?¡¯

    He forced his expression to remain neutral, giving a noncommittal grunt as he searched for a response.

    Elara seemed to take his silence as understanding, stretching her arms over her head before stepping back toward the tent. ¡°Well, I¡¯m tired. I¡¯m heading to bed.¡±

    Del exhaled, relieved she wasn¡¯t pressing the subject.

    ¡°Join you in a moment,¡± he said, tipping his head back to look up at the stars. ¡°I just want to enjoy the sky for a bit longer.¡±

    She gave a low chuckle as she ducked inside. ¡°Well, don¡¯t go making me all cold just as I get the bed warmed up.¡±

    The tent flap fell shut behind her, leaving him alone with the crackling fire and the vast stretch of the sky overhead.

    The night was clear, the heavens spilling over with stars¡ªmore than he had ever seen back home. Here, without the glow of cities or lanterns, the sky felt infinite. A deep, yawning abyss of darkness, streaked with the faint silver haze of distant galaxies.

    A soft weight landed beside him, Misty stretching out luxuriously as she curled against his side, her fur warm from the fire¡¯s glow. Her purr vibrated through the quiet, a rhythmic hum against the stillness of the night.

    Del smiled faintly, watching the firelight flicker in her golden eyes.

    ¡°You have a simple life,¡± he murmured to her.

    Misty flicked an ear, her response dry. ¡®Hmph. Life is meant to be simple. Worry about what is. Then kill or run.¡¯

    Del let out a short, surprised laugh. He shook his head, rising from the grass.

    ¡°Goodnight, Misty.¡±

    The cat gave a lazy blink, unbothered, and stretched out further in his absence.

    Del made his way toward the tent, brushing the last embers of warmth from his fingers. The camp was still, the night wrapped around them in quiet security.

    Some hours later

    A sharp, urgent mental nudge struck him, yanking him from the warm comfort of sleep

    ¡®Kill or run time.¡¯

 Chapter 61 â€“ Ashfangs

    Del was awake in an instant, Misty¡¯s urgent warning slamming through his mind like a jolt of ice water. He didn¡¯t hesitate, moving before thought could catch up¡ªgrabbing his leathers, yanking them on in a rush as he reached for his sword belt and bandolier.

    ¡°Elara, up,¡± he hissed, shaking her shoulder.

    She stirred with a sharp inhale, instinctively alert, her body tensing beneath the blanket. But as her sleep-hazed mind caught up to the urgency in his voice, she was already moving.

    Del didn¡¯t wait. He shoved aside the tent flap, the cool night air hitting his skin as he stepped out, sword already sliding free of its sheath.

    Behind him, he heard the rustling of hurried movement¡ªElara dressing fast, the soft scrape of leather and fabric as she armed herself. He knew she¡¯d be right behind him.

    The night outside was alive with tension.

    Then came the sound¡ªlow, resonant, and unmistakable.

    A howl, deep and primal, carried through the dark like a creeping frost, its echoes swallowed by the surrounding trees.

    A second voice joined the first. Then another.

    Within seconds, a chorus of howls rippled through the night, the eerie symphony of hunters calling to one another, announcing their claim on the land. Misty hadn¡¯t woken them for nothing.

    Del¡¯s jaw tightened. He snatched a thick log from the fire¡¯s edge and hurled it onto the embers, sending a cascade of sparks skyward. Flames licked hungrily at the fresh fuel, brightening the immediate area, but beyond the fire¡¯s glow, the blackness remained impenetrable.

    ¡°Stay close to the tents¡ªwatch Naomi,¡± he instructed Elara, his voice low but firm.

    Elara gave a sharp nod, positioning herself near the entrance to Naomi¡¯s tent, bow raised, her expression grimly determined.

    Del turned his attention to the trees, the weight of his sword reassuring in his grip. In his other hand, he held one of his venom-coated daggers, its wicked edge glinting in the firelight.

    A sudden yelp of pain broke through the night¡ªsharp, pained, and distinctly animal.

    His pulse kicked up a notch.

    Misty.

    He spun in the direction of the sound, scanning the shifting shadows beyond the firelight¡¯s reach. Elara¡¯s bowstring thrummed, sending an arrow zipping into the darkness. A rustle of movement. A low snarl.

    Then he saw them.

    A pair of yellow eyes gleamed in the underbrush, followed by another set just behind. Shapes slinked forward, sleek and low, their muscles coiled beneath thick pelts of shadowed fur.

    Del¡¯s stomach tensed as the first creature emerged fully into the firelight.

    It was a wolf¡ªbut not quite. The proportions were wrong. Its limbs were too long, too lean, built for unnatural agility. Its coat was thick and dark, the fur along its spine bristling with an aggressive charge. When it bared its teeth, a row of needle-sharp fangs gleamed, slick with saliva.

    A single word pulsed into his mind.

    ¡®Identify.¡¯

    Ashfang: Beast, young male.

    Level: 3.

    Pack hunter, nocturnal.

    Strengths: Aggressive, agile.

    Weaknesses: Cowardly.

    Attacks: Bite, rend.

    Skill: Howl.

    Lore: Ashfangs are territorial pack hunters normally active at night. They will often hunt down and overwhelm weaker prey to take back to the den. The howl can be used to summon packmates. If presented with superior strength, they will often run away.

    The wolf-like creature was fast¡ªtoo fast.

    It lunged without hesitation, a blur of fur and muscle. Del barely had time to lift his sword before it was on him, claws raking toward his midsection.

    He twisted, bringing his blade down in a vicious arc. Steel met flesh, and a spray of blood splattered across the dirt as the ashfang yelped and veered away, its momentum carrying it past him.

    Another shadow launched from the side¡ªsilent and swift.

    Del reacted on instinct, slashing with his dagger. The blade connected mid-leap, parting flesh, and the beast hit the ground with a yelp, tumbling into the dirt.

    ¡®Too close.¡¯

    Before Del could steady himself, the first ashfang was already recovering, its yellow eyes locking onto him with renewed hunger. A snarl curled its lips, and this time, it circled him warily, learning.

    Pack hunters. They didn¡¯t fight fair.

    Elara¡¯s bowstring thrummed again. Another arrow cut through the air, burying itself into the brush where a third ashfang lurked.

    Del didn¡¯t have time to see if it hit its mark¡ªhis opponent lunged again.

    He met it head-on.

    This time, instead of dodging, he stepped into the attack, blade swinging. The ashfang barely had time to react before Del¡¯s sword cleaved deep into its shoulder. A strangled yelp escaped its throat, and its legs buckled, collapsing under its own weight.

    Del drove his dagger into its neck, twisting the blade. The creature spasmed, let out a final wheezing growl, then went still.

    A new scent hit his nose¡ªsomething rancid, like old, festering meat.

    He turned sharply just in time to see the second ashfang¡ªwounded but still standing¡ªcharging him with unsteady but determined steps. It swayed, its breath ragged, but hunger burned in its eyes.

    Something was wrong with this one.

    Its lips peeled back in a snarl, and as it opened its mouth, he caught a glimpse of blackened gums, of something festering deep within.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡®That¡¯s not normal.¡¯

    The thing stank of sickness, its movements erratic but violent. Del didn¡¯t hesitate.

    He met it mid-charge, pivoting to the side and bringing his sword down in a merciless strike. The steel bit deep, slicing clean through its leg. The beast tumbled with a pained screech, hitting the ground in a heap of writhing limbs.

    Del didn¡¯t give it a chance to rise.

    With a swift motion, he brought his blade down in a final, decisive stroke¡ªsevering its head from its body.

    The battlefield was chaos.

    Misty moved like a phantom, claws sunk deep into the flanks of another ashfang, her lithe form twisting as she raked its hide open with feral efficiency. The creature shrieked and bucked, but she clung on, her golden eyes alight with predatory fire.

    Elara was a blur of motion, loosing arrows in rapid succession, her face set in a mask of cold focus. Each shot was precise, aimed for weak points¡ªthroats, shoulders, eyes.

    But the pack was still coming.

    Then Del saw it.

    A figure, larger than the rest, stalking toward him from the trees.

    Its movements were deliberate, unhurried. It carried itself with a presence that exuded dominance, an unspoken understanding that it did not need to rush.

    Then it stopped.

    Fifty feet away, it sat back on its haunches, sniffing the air.

    Del met its gaze, and an unsettling awareness settled in his gut.

    This one was different.

    ¡®Identify.¡¯

    Ashfang: Beast, Alpha male.

    Level: 5.

    Pack leader, nocturnal.

    Strengths: Aggressive, agile.

    Weaknesses: Unknown.

    Attacks: Bite, rend.

    Special Attack: Hunter¡¯s Gaze.

    Skill: Howl.

    Lore: Ashfangs are territorial pack hunters normally active at night. They will often hunt down and overwhelm weaker prey to take back to the den. The howl can be used to summon packmates. If presented with superior strength, they will often run away.

    Its yellow eyes locked onto his.

    And something changed.

    A cold, piercing sensation drilled into Del¡¯s skull¡ªsharp, invasive, like ice needles stabbing through his mind. His breath hitched, his muscles froze, and for the first time in the fight, his body refused to obey.

    His world shrank to those eyes.

    He saw everything in excruciating detail¡ªthe quiver of the beast¡¯s whiskers, the slow, calculated rise and fall of its chest, the gleam of its saliva-coated fangs.

    He could hear Elara shouting, could sense movement around him, but it felt distant, muffled¡ªlike sound warped through water.

    He couldn¡¯t move.

    Something primal, something ancient, anchored him in place.

    The beast charged.

    Its body was a streak of black against the night, claws gouging the earth as it closed the distance.

    This was it.

    Something inside him screamed¡ªraw, furious, desperate to break free.

    Elara¡¯s voice pierced through the haze.

    ¡°Del!¡±

    A second voice¡ªharsher, inside his own mind¡ªroared.

    ¡®MOVE, YOU USELESS FUCKING BASTARD!¡¯

    The grip shattered.

    Del wrenched himself free from the beast¡¯s gaze, throwing himself sideways an instant before it struck. A searing pain lanced through his hip as claws raked across his side, but he was alive.

    And now, he was angry.

    He landed hard, rolling to his feet just as the beast skidded to a stop, spinning back toward him with a furious snarl.

    Blood dripped from its claws.

    Its eyes narrowed.

    Del raised his sword, his grip tightening.

    This fight wasn¡¯t over.

    It had only just begun.

    The ashfang Alpha paced sideways, its body coiled with barely restrained energy. Even with an arrow buried in its shoulder and a fresh wound from Del¡¯s sword, it showed no hesitation. Its yellow eyes gleamed with intelligence¡ªcalculating, reassessing.

    It knew now that Del wasn¡¯t easy prey.

    But that didn¡¯t mean it was backing down.

    A low growl rumbled from its throat, resonating through the ground like the prelude to an earthquake. Then, with a burst of speed that defied its size, it leapt forward again.

    Del was ready.

    He ducked low and to the side, feeling the rush of air as its massive frame sailed past him. His sword lashed out, scoring another deep gash across its flank, but the beast barely flinched. It twisted mid-stride, claws digging deep into the dirt, propelling itself into another charge.

    This time, Del had no room to dodge.

    The impact was like being hit by a battering ram. A wall of muscle and fur slammed into him, knocking the breath from his lungs. His back hit the ground hard, a shock of pain lancing through his spine as he struggled to bring his sword up.

    The Alpha was already on him.

    Its fangs snapped inches from his face, hot breath flooding his senses with the rancid stench of blood and decay. He barely got his arm up in time, the beast¡¯s massive jaws closing around his forearm instead of his throat.

    Pain exploded through his body.

    It felt like his bones might snap under the crushing pressure.

    Gritting his teeth, he let go of his sword with his free hand and reached for his last venom dagger. His fingers found the hilt just as the Alpha twisted its head, yanking him roughly across the ground.

    ¡®Do it now!¡¯ His mind screamed

    With a desperate snarl of effort, Del wrenched the dagger free and drove it straight into the beast¡¯s exposed throat.

    The reaction was immediate.

    The Alpha released him with a choking snarl, staggering back as the poison took hold. The veins beneath its dark fur pulsed, the lethal venom spreading fast.

    But it wasn¡¯t dead. Not yet.

    Del scrambled to his feet, arm throbbing, blood dripping from deep puncture wounds. He barely had time to register Elara¡¯s voice before another arrow streaked past him¡ªhitting the Alpha square in the chest.

    It let out a strangled roar, staggering back, but still, it didn¡¯t fall.

    A blur of fur and claws shot from the side.

    Misty.

    The cat hit the Alpha¡¯s back like a bolt of lightning, her claws burying deep into the wounded flesh. She tore at the beast with a vicious efficiency, sinking her teeth into the soft tissue of its neck, her entire body thrashing as she ripped.

    The Alpha howled¡ªlouder than any cry before.

    The sound sent a ripple of movement through the trees.

    Del barely had time to notice the retreating figures of the remaining ashfangs, their glowing eyes vanishing into the night.

    The pack was breaking.

    But the Alpha?

    It refused.

    With a final, violent effort, the beast threw itself backward, slamming its massive body into the ground in an attempt to dislodge Misty.

    It worked.

    Misty was flung through the air, twisting mid-flight to land on her feet, but the force of the impact still left her momentarily stunned.

    The Alpha turned to her.

    Its lips curled back in a snarl, blood dripping from its mangled throat. Even half-dead, its sheer presence exuded power, the aura of a creature that had never known fear.

    Del moved without thinking.

    His sword was somewhere on the ground, but that didn¡¯t matter.

    The dagger was still in his grip.

    He surged forward, every muscle screaming in protest. The Alpha sensed him coming, but it was too slow this time¡ªits injuries, the poison, the sheer force of everything they¡¯d thrown at it had finally taken their toll.

    Del tackled the beast in a brutal, desperate motion, driving his entire weight behind the blade.

    It sank in to the hilt.

    A wet, gurgling sound rasped from the Alpha¡¯s throat. Its body convulsed once¡ªtwice¡ªthen finally, its massive frame went slack.

    It hit the ground with a heavy thud, dust rising around them.

    For a long, breathless moment, there was only silence.

    Del remained on his knees, hands still gripping the dagger buried deep in the beast¡¯s flesh. His chest heaved, his body trembling with exertion.

    A sharp, familiar voice cut through the stillness.

    ¡°Del!¡±

    Elara was there in an instant, gripping his shoulder, her gaze sweeping over him, assessing injuries.

    ¡°You¡¯re bleeding,¡± she said, frowning at his arm.

    Del exhaled shakily, finally releasing his grip on the dagger.

    ¡°I¡¯ll live,¡± he muttered.

    His body protested as he pushed himself upright, his limbs stiff and aching. The firelight flickered over the battlefield¡ªdark fur, blood-stained dirt, and the remains of the carnage surrounding them.

    A soft rustle drew his attention.

    Misty.

    The cat sat a few paces away, her tail flicking idly, golden eyes locked onto him. There was no concern in her gaze, no pity¡ªjust quiet satisfaction.

    ¡®About time you finished it.¡¯

    Del let out a breathless chuckle, rubbing a hand over his face.

    Elara turned, scanning the treeline. ¡°They¡¯re gone.¡±

    He followed her gaze. The forest was silent once more.

    The pack had fled.

    The fight was over.

    The realisation hit all at once¡ªthe sheer weight of what had just happened. His body felt like it had been trampled, every nerve raw with exhaustion. But beneath that, something deeper stirred.

    Victory.

    He looked down at the fallen Alpha, at the blood still pooling beneath it.

    Then, with a sigh of satisfaction, a flickering message pulsed into his vision.

    [Congratulations. You have killed 7 Ashfangs. Experience gained.]

    [Congratulations. You have killed Ashfang Alpha. Experience gained.]

    [You have progressed on your primary Cuvat: Survive. Points added.]

 Chapter 62 â€“ Kittens need comfort

    Del dismissed the quiet beeping in his mind¡ªnotifications of other messages, but they could wait. His focus remained on the present, his body still thrumming with exhaustion as the last remnants of adrenaline drained away, leaving him feeling spent and unsteady.

    He took a knee, breathing hard, his grip tightening on his sword, using it as a brace to stop himself from collapsing completely. His muscles ached, his hip throbbed, and the metallic tang of blood¡ªhis own and the ashfangs''¡ªstill clung to the air.

    Footsteps pounded against the dirt. Elara. She was running toward him.

    Back at the tents, Naomi¡¯s soft, fear-choked sobs filled the night, the sound fragile against the vast silence left in the wake of the battle. Misty padded over, sniffing at Del with quick, assessing movements. Assured he wasn¡¯t mortally wounded, she turned away, her tail flicking with purpose as she headed toward the frightened girl.

    ¡®Heal,¡¯ she told him simply. ¡®I will tend the kitten.¡¯

    Elara reached him and dropped into a crouch at his side, her bow forgotten as her hands moved instinctively toward him, searching for injuries.

    ¡°Are you hurt?¡± she asked, her voice edged with concern.

    Del met her gaze¡ªher face was pale, her eyes searching his with something dangerously close to fear. Not fear of the fight, but fear for him.

    He exhaled, reaching out to take her hand, giving it a light squeeze of reassurance.

    ¡°A bit of a bang to my hip, and that big wolf got into my arm a bit,¡± he admitted, offering a wan smile.

    Elara¡¯s eyes flicked downward¡ªand her expression darkened instantly.

    "Del¡ª" Her voice was sharp with alarm as she grabbed his left forearm and turned it slightly.

    Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he could really feel it¡ªthe raw, burning throb beneath the torn leather of his sleeve. Blood had seeped through, matting fabric against shredded skin. The Alpha¡¯s fangs had punctured deep, leaving a mess of torn flesh, already swollen and tender to the touch.

    He hissed through his teeth as she peeled back the sleeve, exposing the injury fully.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Elara muttered. "This isn¡¯t just ¡®a bit of a bite,¡¯ Del¡ªhe nearly tore your arm apart!"

    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad,¡± Del started, but she shot him a glare that could have killed a weaker man on the spot.

    Wordlessly, she dug into her belt pouch, retrieving silverbloom ointment and pressing it into the worst of the wounds. The cool, herbal scent filled the air as she worked.

    ¡°Hold that,¡± she ordered, placing a pad over the top and shoving his own hand against the poultice before reaching for her waterskin.

    Del gritted his teeth as she poured cold water over his arm, washing away the excess blood. The sting was immediate and sharp, but nothing compared to the fresh burn as the silverbloom paste sank into the wound. His fingers tensed involuntarily against the pain.

    Elara didn¡¯t pause. She pulled a length of clean bandage from her pack and began wrapping the arm tightly.

    ¡°This is just to hold it,¡± she muttered, securing the knot with practiced efficiency. ¡°You¡¯re still going to be sore as hell, but at least you won¡¯t bleed out and the wounds will close up in an hour or two.¡±

    Del smirked, despite the pain. ¡°Well, that¡¯s reassuring.¡±

    She shot him a look but didn¡¯t argue.

    Elara shifted her attention to his hip, her brow furrowing as she noticed the darkening patch on his leathers.

    ¡°How bad?¡± she asked.

    Del sighed. ¡°Mostly bruised, I think. The claws glanced me, didn¡¯t dig too deep.¡±

    Elara didn¡¯t take his word for it¡ªshe was already loosening his belt to check for herself.

    Del huffed. ¡°Usually, I like a bit more warning before you start pulling at my clothes.¡±

    Elara rolled her eyes. ¡°Shut up and let me see.¡±

    She tugged the fabric aside, revealing a deep bruise forming across his side, tinged with red where the claws had grazed the skin. It would ache like hell, but compared to his arm, it was nothing.

    She reached for her pouch again, this time pulling out a large pot of feldspar paste and rubbing it into the bruised area.

    Del hissed again, more out of instinct than pain. The cooling effect was almost immediate, the tension in his hip easing slightly.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to feel that in the morning,¡± she said, rubbing the remainder of the mixture into his skin before fastening his leathers back into place.

    Del let out a slow breath. ¡°Yeah. But at least I¡¯ll still be in one piece.¡±

    Elara sat back on her heels, regarding him with narrowed eyes. Then, with zero warning, she flicked him lightly on the forehead.

    ¡°Ow. What the hell?¡± Del scowled.

    ¡°That,¡± she said, arms crossing over her chest, ¡°was for lying about your injuries, you absolute idiot.¡±

    He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

    ¡°¡­Fair.¡±

    Del let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulder ¡ªand instantly regretted it. His arm throbbed, his hip ached, and now that the fight was truly over, the sheer weight of everything crashed down on him at once.

    His limbs felt heavy, like he was moving through deep water. His head buzzed, a dull, persistent ache throbbing behind his eyes. His body wanted to give in¡ªto sink onto the ground and let sleep take him where he sat.

    For a few long seconds, he just stared at the bloodstained dirt beneath him, breathing through the exhaustion. The scent of blood, fire, and damp earth filled his lungs. The fire crackled softly, a stark contrast to the chaos that had consumed them only moments ago.

    A hand brushed against his, grounding him.

    He glanced up to find Elara watching him, her usual smirk replaced by something quieter.

    ¡°You alright?¡± she asked, softer this time.

    Del forced a small smirk, though it felt heavier than usual. ¡°Just¡­ catching up to myself.¡±

    She studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod. ¡°We should deal with the bodies. If you sit too long, you¡¯ll seize up.¡±

    Del let out a tired chuckle, forcing himself to his feet, every muscle protesting the decision.

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    ¡°Yeah,¡± he muttered. ¡°Let¡¯s get it done.¡±

    The crying from Naomi¡¯s tent had quieted now, reduced to soft, muffled sniffling. That was a good sign. Del turned and made his way over, moving carefully, his muscles stiff and aching from the fight.

    Poking his head through the tent flap, he found Naomi curled up on her sleeping mat, small arms wrapped tightly around Misty. The cat, normally resistant to such confining displays of affection, tolerated it with an uncharacteristic patience. Instead of claws and indignant hissing, Misty remained still, her purring a steady, soothing hum. Occasionally, she reached up to give Naomi¡¯s nose a rough-tongued lick, eliciting a quiet giggle from the girl.

    ¡®Good girl, Misty,¡¯ Del murmured mentally. ¡®Great job.¡¯

    Misty, still nestled in the child¡¯s arms, gave him a sage response. ¡®Kitten just needed comfort.¡¯

    With a wriggle, she freed herself, nuzzling Naomi once more before slipping from the girl¡¯s grip and padding toward the tent entrance, resuming her watch outside.

    Del crouched slightly, lowering his voice. ¡°Are you alright, Naomi?¡± he asked gently. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, that was a bit scary, but they¡¯re gone now.¡±

    Naomi¡¯s large brown eyes met his, filled with lingering emotion, but her expression was defiant. ¡°I wasn¡¯t really scared,¡± she said firmly.

    Del¡¯s lips twitched. ¡°That¡¯s good then.¡± He reached forward, tucking the blankets up around her chin as she settled down again. ¡°Try to get back to sleep. It¡¯s not morning yet.¡±

    Naomi nodded, snuggling deeper into her blankets.

    With one last look to make sure she was truly settled, Del slipped back out of the tent, leaving the girl in the warmth and safety of her dreams.

    Outside, the aftermath of the battle lay in stark relief against the fire¡¯s glow. Cooling bodies of the fallen ashfangs were strewn across the clearing, their dark fur glistening with the last traces of warmth. The air was thick with the scent of blood and churned earth, undercut by the lingering smoke from the fire.

    Elara was already at work, dragging the final carcass toward the others near the alpha¡¯s fallen form. Her movements were brisk, efficient¡ªno hesitation, no wasted effort.

    Del watched her for a moment. As he crossed the distance between them, he spotted his sword on the ground, he picked it up and wiped the blade before sheathing it. He joined the elf, wrapping his arms around her in a brief but firm embrace. She didn¡¯t resist, only let out a soft huff of air before smiling.

    ¡°That was pretty mad for a while,¡± he murmured.

    ¡°That,¡± she said, flashing a grin, ¡°was bloody awesome.¡±

    Del let out a breathy chuckle and bent down to help, tugging arrows free from the beasts where they still stuck. Most were salvageable, though a few had splintered or bent on impact. His fingers brushed the hilt of his venom dagger, still embedded in the massive alpha¡¯s side. With a grunt, he yanked it free, wiping the darkened blade against the beast¡¯s thick fur before sheathing it once more.

    Elara, meanwhile, crouched by one of the carcasses, inspecting the quality of its pelt.

    ¡°The skins should fetch a good price,¡± she said, running her hand over the thick, coarse fur. ¡°The meat, though¡ªnot worth eating. We either burn it, bury it, or leave it for the scavengers.¡±

    Del nodded, already stripping his own ashfang of its hide. ¡°Just leave it. I don¡¯t want the stink of burning meat hanging over us, and I don¡¯t have the energy to dig a pit big enough for all of them.¡±

    Elara gave an approving nod before setting to work herself, her blade slicing neatly through the hide of the large alpha. She worked fast, the skin peeling away with an almost practiced ease.

    ¡°You fought well,¡± Del remarked as he peeled another layer of hide from his latest kill. ¡°Took down two on your own, landed an arrow in one of Misty¡¯s kills, and helped with the big one too.¡±

    She smirked. ¡°Couldn¡¯t let you take all the credit, could I?¡±

    Del huffed, shaking his head. ¡®No, but BB and the system seem to credit me with all of them,¡¯ he mused internally, recalling the message that had flickered into his vision after the fight.

    ¡®I imagine the same goes for Misty. Wonder if she gets system notifications or just a series of mysterious ethereal meows.¡¯

    He was halfway through skinning another ashfang when Elara¡¯s voice broke through his thoughts.

    ¡°Del.¡±

    ¡°Mmm?¡± He barely looked up, focused on working the hide free from the muscle beneath.

    ¡°You¡¯re laughing at your own jokes again,¡± she observed, clear amusement laced in her tone.

    ¡°Oh, sorry,¡± he muttered with a sheepish grin. ¡°Spent too long on my own before I ended up here.¡± He shot her a sidelong glance. ¡°I was usually the best conversationalist in the room.¡±

    That earned him a real laugh, bright and unguarded. The sound was a welcome shift from the tension that had clung to them all night.

    They worked in companionable silence after that, the rhythmic slice of blades against hide filling the air as they gathered the intact pelts. Del stored them safely away, tucking them into the storage ring before shaking the stiffness from his hands.

    The last thing to do was clean up.

    They took turns washing up at the river, scrubbing away the grime, blood, and remnants of the fight. The water was bracingly cold, but refreshing, banishing the last dregs of exhaustion clinging to his body.

    They left their rinsed clothes to dry by the fire before heading back to the tent, fatigue beginning to settle deep into their bones.

    As they lay back, Elara shifted closer, her warmth pressing against his side.

    ¡°Do you think they¡¯ll come back?¡± she murmured, voice thick with exhaustion.

    Del considered the question, turning over what he¡¯d learned from Identify, what he knew of pack behaviour. He gave a slow shake of his head.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± he admitted. ¡°We hit them hard, took down their leader. That kind of loss doesn¡¯t just get shrugged off.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re probably right,¡± she said, but still, she nestled closer, resting her head against his shoulder. ¡°Either way, let¡¯s clear out of here early tomorrow.¡±

    Del wrapped an arm around her, pressing a brief kiss to the top of her head. ¡°Agreed. Now sleep. We¡¯ve got a long day ahead.¡±

    It didn¡¯t take long for her breathing to even out, the slow rise and fall of her chest signalling that she was already drifting.

    For a while, Del just lay there, listening to the night. Misty was still out there, keeping watch, and Naomi had settled back into sleep.

    Finally, he let out a sigh and turned his attention to the persistent beeping still nudging at the edges of his mind.

    ¡®Alright, BB, no need to nag. What have you got for me?¡¯

    The system responded immediately.

    [You have advanced the skill: Skinning.]

    [You have learned the skill: Two-Handed Melee. Don¡¯t trip and cut off a finger.]

    [Congratulations. You have enough experience to level up¡ªwould you like to level up now?]

    Del exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. He was tired. His body screamed for rest.

    ¡®Don¡¯t be an idiot. You need to be stronger more than you need a few zzz¡¯s.¡¯

    Fair enough.

    ¡®Yes.¡¯

    A wave of something deep and visceral rushed through him¡ªa familiar sensation by now, but no less intense. Strength surged through his limbs, the fatigue retreating slightly as his body adjusted to the new increase in power.

    He checked the details.

    Two full levels.

    Misty had gained one as well.

    That put them both above the standard for most sapients in Gondowa.

    That was good.

    That meant they were stronger.

    Stronger meant safer. For him. For Elara. For Naomi.

    For all of them.

    He weighed his choices carefully before assigning the four new attribute points.

    Two into Strength. That much was obvious.

    But that gaze attack from the Alpha had shaken him. He didn¡¯t want to experience that kind of paralysis again.

    Two into Intelligence. A guess, but a calculated one.

    He reviewed his new stats, committing them to memory.

    Satisfied, he closed his eyes and let sleep finally take him.

    Name: Del Axholm

    Level: 6

    Path: Archer

    Health: 48

    Strength: 20

    Dexterity: 18

    Stamina: 19

    Intelligence: 14

    Wisdom: 12

    Mana: 42

    Spirit: 24

    Agility: 22

    Presence: 10

    Animal Companion: Misty; feline

    Skills:

    Archery lvl 3 ¨C Able to use all manner of handheld bows and crossbows

    Woodcraft lvl 3 ¨C Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.

    Tracking lvl 2 ¨C Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.

    Traps lvl 1 ¨C Can make basic snares and pit traps.

    Sneak lvl 3 ¨C Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.

    Herbalism lvl 2 ¨C Can identify and gather basic herbs.

    Skinning lvl 3 ¨C Can manage to roughly skin a carcass.

    Leadership lvl 1 - Able to command small groups of up to 20.

    Attacks:

    Bow lvl 3 ¨C Simple Shot.

    Sword lvl 5 ¨C Cut, thrust.

    Dagger lvl 3 ¨C Stab, Slash.

    Special Attacks:

    Bow:

    Sneak attack lvl 1 ¨C Doubles damage

    Master Archer lvl 1 ¨C Cost 1 Stamina: Increased damage and chance of critical hit.

    Dagger:

    Backstab lvl 2 ¨C Double damage.

    Two Handed Melee lvl 1 ¨C Two weapon fighting, twice the fun.

    Name: Misty

    Level: 6

    Path: Feline Companion

    Health: 46

    Strength: 11

    Dexterity: 20

    Stamina: 15

    Intelligence: 10

    Wisdom: 6

    Mana: 25

    Spirit: 15

    Agility: 24

    Presence: 14

    Skills:

    Charm lvl 4 ¨C Can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.

    Attacks:

    Claw lvl 5 ¨C Attack with front claws.

    Rake lvl 4 ¨C Double rear leg attack.

    Bite lvl 5 ¨C It¡¯s teeth all the way

    Special Attacks:

    Pounce lvl 6 ¨C Can be used with any or all of the standard attacks. Double damage, with a small chance to cause the target to stumble.

    Sneak Pounce lvl 3 ¨C As above; Triple damage.

 Chapter 63 â€“ A quiet interlude

    Dawn came too soon after their disturbed night, dragging Del out of an aching, unsatisfying sleep. His body felt stiff and sore, the hard ground having pressed its discomfort into his back, shoulders, and hip. He shifted, grimacing.

    ¡®You got used to a bed again, Del.¡¯ The thought was irritatingly true. The time spent in the Cock and Ball had softened him, the simple luxury of sleeping on a proper mattress now just a mocking memory.

    ¡®Camping is for young folks.¡¯ He was quick to agree, but arguing with himself was a losing battle at the best of times. So instead, he grunted his way into motion, rolling onto one elbow before forcing himself upright.

    Elara, still curled under her blankets, cracked an eye open as he muttered to himself, his movements sluggish and grumpy. A small smirk pulled at her lips as she watched him shuffle around the tent, pulling on his gear with the energy of an old man reluctant to face the day.

    ¡°You talking to yourself again?¡± she asked, voice husky with sleep.

    ¡°Always,¡± Del muttered, fastening his belt.

    Elara stretched lazily before sitting up, rubbing a hand through her tangled mess of hair. She yawned, blinking sleepily at Del as he fastened his belt.

    ¡°Breakfast duty or camp pack-up?¡± she asked, voice still husky with sleep.

    Del pretended to weigh the options, then flashed her a grin. ¡°I don¡¯t mind. But I haven¡¯t tasted your cooking yet, so go get at it, girl.¡±

    Elara snorted, entirely unfazed, and started pulling on her clothes. ¡°Your loss,¡± she shot back. She ducked out of the tent, leaving Del to finish dressing.

    The morning air greeted him as he emerged, cool and fresh with the lingering dampness of morning dew clinging to the grass. A soft mist curled low across the ground, already beginning to dissipate under the promise of rising heat.

    Across the clearing, Naomi was already up, though not being particularly efficient about it. She was half-dressed, still wrapped in her blanket, sitting cross-legged by the fire while she absentmindedly fussed over Misty.

    The cat, flattened beneath the girl¡¯s affectionate grip, flicked her tail in long, slow whips of protest.

    ¡°You know,¡± Del said, making his way toward them, ¡°if you squeeze her any harder, Misty¡¯s going to start plotting your demise.¡±

    Naomi pouted, loosening her grip slightly, but Misty took the opportunity to wiggle free, shaking herself out as if she¡¯d endured a great hardship. With an exaggerated flick of her tail, she stalked a few paces away and began fastidiously grooming herself, pointedly ignoring Naomi.

    ¡°You¡¯re just grumpy in the mornings,¡± Naomi muttered, narrowing her eyes at the cat.

    Misty, entirely unapologetic, continued washing her paws.

    Shaking his head, Del turned his attention to breaking down camp. The tents came down quickly, his hands moving on instinct, every action a well-worn habit. Naomi, noticing the activity, perked up and scrambled over to help, her blanket trailing behind her as she tried to fold her tent fabric.

    Her first attempt was a disaster, the fabric crumpling into a hopelessly uneven mess. She scowled, huffing at it.

    ¡°You will soon be good at this,¡± Del noted, finishing up his own roll.

    Naomi, determined, made another attempt, this time getting the edges to mostly align.

    ¡°Mummy always made me help when we camped outside the farm,¡± she said, sticking her tongue out slightly in concentration.

    Del nodded. ¡°Then I expect expert-level work next time.¡±

    Naomi giggled, pleased with herself, and Misty¡ªperhaps feeling left out of the conversation¡ªlet out a short, dignified meow from her perch near the fire.

    `The smell of cooking drifted toward them, rich and tempting. Del¡¯s stomach let out a loud, traitorous rumble, and Naomi snickered.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°Let¡¯s get washed up before breakfast.¡±

    The stream was biting cold, the kind of chill that shocked the senses awake the moment it touched skin. Del gritted his teeth as he splashed the water over his face, feeling the sting of it seep into his pores. It wasn''t quite the frozen hell of winter, but it was damn close enough for a groggy morning.

    Naomi, standing beside him, dipped her hands into the water with hesitant reluctance, her nose scrunched in suspicion.

    ¡°It''s not that bad,¡± Del said, rubbing the water through his hair.

    Naomi tentatively cupped a handful, hesitated, then pressed it to her face.

    A shriek of betrayal cut through the peaceful morning. ¡°Why is it so cold?!¡±

    Del let out a snort, trying¡ªand failing¡ªnot to laugh.

    Naomi shot him a glare of pure accusation. ¡°This is cruel,¡± she declared, as if he had personally orchestrated the entire temperature of nature just to inconvenience her. ¡°Misty doesn¡¯t have to wash her face in ice water!¡±

    Misty, perched on a sun-warmed rock, stretched luxuriously, her tail flicking in what could only be described as smug agreement.

    Del raised an eyebrow at the cat. ¡®I¡¯m starting to think you planned this.¡¯

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    Misty responded by giving her chest fur a slow, deliberate lick, as if to say yes, and what of it?

    Naomi sighed dramatically, rubbing her arms. ¡°If I freeze to death, I hope you feel bad.¡±

    Del rolled his eyes and flicked a few drops of water at her cheek.

    Naomi gasped. ¡°You absolute villain!¡±

    She scooped up both hands full of icy water and flung them at him.

    Del yelped as the freezing splash hit his neck, soaking down into his shirt. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s how it is, huh?¡±

    Naomi grinned mischievously¡ªthen let out a squeal of betrayal as Del flicked another splash back at her.

    Elara¡¯s voice drifted over from the fire, full of mild amusement. ¡°If you¡¯re both done with your childish squabbling, breakfast is ready.¡±

    Naomi perked up immediately, all thoughts of cold water abandoned.

    Del sighed, squeezing the excess chill from his shirt. ¡°You just wait, kid. This isn¡¯t over.¡±

    The smell of cooking met them as they approached the fire, the rich scent of sizzling meat and wild herbs blending into the crisp morning air. Naomi plopped down immediately, still rubbing at her damp face, while Del eyed the pan with cautious suspicion.

    Elara, kneeling by the fire, arched an eyebrow at him. ¡°You¡¯re looking at it like it might bite you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just mentally preparing myself,¡± Del said, folding his arms. ¡°I¡¯ve been burned before. Literally. And by bad food.¡±

    Elara let out an exaggerated sigh of suffering. ¡°You wound me.¡±

    She grabbed a piece of crisply browned meat, tore off a small bite, and popped it into her mouth. Her expression remained neutral as she chewed.

    Then she sighed. ¡°Damn, I¡¯m good.¡±

    Naomi giggled. Del remained suspicious.

    Slowly, he reached forward, grabbed a piece, and took a cautious bite.

    And, to his chagrin, it was actually good.

    The meat was flavoured perfectly, the balance of herbs spot on, and the texture tender instead of the usual overcooked chewiness he had come to expect from campfire meals.

    He leaned back, rubbing his stomach with mock satisfaction.

    ¡°Alright then,¡± he declared. ¡°Who agrees that Elara has cooking duties from now on?¡±

    Naomi''s hand shot up immediately.

    Even Misty let out a distinct mewl of agreement.

    Del paused, blinking. ¡°...You didn¡¯t have to agree so readily.¡±

    Elara smirked. ¡°Sounds like a unanimous vote.¡±

    Naomi nodded seriously. ¡°It''s very important to have a good cook.¡±

    Del scoffed, looking at Misty. ¡°Et tu, furball?¡±

    Misty flicked her tail and turned her gaze to Elara, eyes half-lidded in silent approval.

    Del groaned. ¡°This is betrayal on every level.¡±

    Elara patted his shoulder consolingly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Del. Some of us are just more talented than others.¡±

    Naomi giggled, and Misty hopped onto Elara¡¯s lap, curling up with the air of one choosing the winning side.

    Del sighed, shaking his head. ¡°This is why I work alone.¡±

    The next two days proved to be a fairly monotonous trudge.

    Monotonous, Del reminded himself, was better than being torn apart by Ashfangs.

    At the very least, Naomi¡¯s feet were toughening up, which meant less carrying¡ªa relief, considering how much ground they still had to cover.

    The weather remained typically late-spring, the air thick with the promise of summer lurking just beyond the season¡¯s edge. Birdsong drifted lazily through the trees, a soft counterpoint to the steady crunch of boots on dirt. Sometimes, they caught glimpses of wildlife darting through the undergrowth¡ªa flicker of movement, a set of curious eyes watching from the brush, but nothing that posed a threat.

    Still, it was far too quiet.

    With no immediate danger to keep his mind occupied, Del found himself with more time than he liked to think.

    Elara, perceptive as ever, seemed to notice. She spent much of the journey either walking quietly beside him or taking Naomi a little way off their route to forage for herbs and other useful finds. Whether she was giving him space to process or simply indulging in a practical distraction, he wasn¡¯t sure. Probably both.

    Naomi, for her part, was a sponge. She absorbed everything, her mind eagerly drinking in every scrap of new knowledge. Elara guided her training, encouraging her to strengthen her talents and refine her ability to control her mana.

    Most nights, instead of sleeping right away, Naomi let her spirit drift across the land, exploring the nearby fields and trees in search of anything glowing with latent magic. The ones she found particularly interesting, she marked mentally, so they could track them down in the morning.

    That had been the routine for the past two days¡ªuntil they reached the stream.

    It wasn¡¯t particularly wide, but it was a fast-moving tributary, the water churning over jagged rocks as it cut through the landscape. A shallow ford lay just ahead, where the water fanned out over smooth, sun-bleached stones, creating an ankle-deep crossing point just before it joined the main river they had been following.

    Del eyed it warily. ¡°Looks manageable,¡± he muttered.

    Elara nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll take it slow. The current¡¯s strong enough to trip you if you¡¯re careless.¡±

    Naomi bounced forward, unconcerned. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look that bad!¡±

    Del narrowed his eyes. ¡°Famous last words.¡±

    Naomi grinned and, before anyone could stop her, took an overconfident step forward. The moment her foot hit the slick riverbed, it slipped¡ªher arms flailed wildly as she tilted sideways.

    ¡°Whoa¡ª!¡±

    Elara, moving instinctively fast, snatched Naomi¡¯s collar mid-stumble, yanking her firmly upright before she could splash headfirst into the current.

    Naomi gasped, clutching at Elara¡¯s arm. ¡°...I meant to do that,¡± she declared.

    Del sighed. ¡°Of course you did.¡±

    Elara smirked, steadying her grip on Naomi¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Try not drowning next time.¡±

    Naomi pouted but obeyed, moving forward with a lot more caution as they waded across. Del followed last, keeping a steady watch on the footing, but it was Misty who proved to be the real source of disaster.

    The cat, having perched on a flat rock, judged the distance¡ªthen leapt.

    It should have been graceful.

    Instead, she miscalculated.

    Her paws landed on a stone slick with moss, her claws scrabbled for purchase, and with a yowl of pure indignity, Misty slipped straight into the water with an unceremonious splash.

    Silence.

    Then¡ª

    Naomi gasped dramatically. ¡°Misty!¡± The cat surfaced instantly, flailing in an unholy mix of shock and fury as she paddled furiously toward the nearest dry rock. Water streamed from her soaked fur, sopping wet, she looked half her usual size, her ears flattened in absolute betrayal of the world.

    Del, unable to help himself, let out a bark of laughter.

    Misty whipped her head toward him, ears pinned back in outrage.

    Naomi reached forward to help, scooping Misty into her arms. The cat allowed it, mostly because she was too busy glaring at the river like it had personally wronged her.

    Misty¡¯s entire body dripped as she trembled with residual rage, her soaked tail twitching in pure disgust.

    Elara smirked. ¡°Not quite as smooth as you thought, was it?¡±

    Misty¡¯s golden glare could have burned a hole through stone.

    Del chuckled. ¡°I take it you¡¯re not a fan of water, then?¡±

    Misty responded by flicking her tail violently, sending a spray of icy droplets flying directly into Del¡¯s face.

    He sputtered, blinking against the sudden dousing.

    Naomi snickered, and even Elara had to turn away to hide a grin.

    Del wiped his face with mock patience. ¡°Alright. Message received.¡±

    Misty, still seething, wriggled free from Naomi¡¯s grasp and stalked ahead¡ªdripping, sulking, and plotting revenge.

    She sulked for the next hour, ears pinned back, ignoring all attempts at comfort.

    Naomi tried offering an apology, which was met with a flick of the tail and an unimpressed glare.

    Del, amused, nudged Naomi lightly. ¡°I think you should watch your boots tonight. Pretty sure she¡¯s going to leave something special in them.¡±

    Naomi giggled¡ªbut cast a wary glance at Misty just in case.

    The only moment of real concern came when Naomi spotted a small group of ashfangs lingering further ahead. When she told them, Del had felt his stomach tighten, but after a bit of discussion, they concluded that the creatures were moving away from their path, not toward them.

    That was fine.

    For now.

 Chapter 64 â€“ Introspection

    Del found himself in a turmoil

    His entire worldview had been ripped apart and rebuilt, and no matter how much time passed, he still hadn¡¯t truly adjusted.

    The more he tried to make sense of it, the more impossible it seemed. Everything he thought he knew¡ªabout history, about science, about reality itself¡ªhad been rewritten in a way that defied logic.

    He had always prided himself on being a rational thinker. Given enough time and information, he was convinced that anything could be explained.

    The Earth, for example, was a round ball of rock that had been spinning through space for billions of years. Humans had only been around for a fraction of that time, following after the dinosaurs and countless other lifeforms that had risen and fallen before them.

    That was how the world worked.

    That was reality.

    And yet¡ªhere he was.

    Living in a past that shouldn¡¯t exist, in a world that had no place in the history he knew. Sent here by a power beyond comprehension to do something ridiculous in the name of saving his entire species.

    It was too much.

    Too big.

    Too insane.

    He let out a slow breath, pressing his fingers to his temples as he tried¡ªagain¡ªto force it into some kind of rational framework.

    And failed.

    ¡®For fuck¡¯s sake.¡¯

    If Del was being honest with himself¡ªand that was always a dangerous thing¡ªthere was a part of him that refused to believe any of this was real.

    A solid, logical chunk of his brain was convinced that he was hooked up to some life-support machine in an ICU somewhere, barely clinging to consciousness after some catastrophic accident. Maybe he had suffered head trauma or a stroke, and everything happening around him was just some elaborate hallucination constructed by his dying mind.

    Another part of him entertained a different but equally unsettling theory:

    That he was locked away in some padded cell, completely out of his mind, lost in a delusion so deep that he was dribbling in a corner somewhere, completely unaware that none of this was real.

    He had read somewhere¡ªprobably in some half-forgotten book or online article¡ªthat only the truly sane could question their own sanity.

    Or was it the other way around?

    He couldn¡¯t remember.

    Not that it mattered.

    ¡®Anyway, I digress.¡¯

    The thoughts churned endlessly as he walked, his body moving on autopilot¡ªone foot in front of the other, over and over, through the same endless stretches of fields and dirt trails. He fell into rhythms of conversation when required, responded when spoken to, but otherwise, his mind remained tangled in its own labyrinth, looping through the same absurd questions again and again.

    Misty kept watching him.

    She would trot up every so often, tail twitching, fixing him with an oddly intense stare¡ªas if she were trying to read his thoughts. Her concern was obvious, but she didn¡¯t intrude. She just watched, golden eyes sharp and knowing.

    And that was another thing.

    ¡®What¡¯s with Misty?¡¯

    Del glanced down at the cat as she padded along beside him, tail flicking lazily.

    ¡®She¡¯s a cat. A cat, for crying out loud. What the fuck is a cat doing learning to talk and shit?¡¯

    It wasn¡¯t even about the telepathic communication anymore. It was everything else¡ªthe intelligence, the understanding, the way she sometimes looked at him like she knew more than she was letting on.

    That was not normal.

    None of this was normal.

    A sharp throb pulsed behind his eyes, the beginnings of a stress-induced headache forming at his temples.

    ¡®Argh. My damn head hurts.¡¯

    Del took a steadying breath.

    Fine. Let¡¯s assume, for a moment, that I¡¯m not insane or hooked up to a life-support machine.

    That left another unsettling possibility¡ªone he hadn¡¯t yet considered.

    Dead?

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    He frowned slightly, the thought creeping in uninvited. What if he was stuck in some post-life dystopian nightmare? Some cosmic punishment disguised as a grand adventure?

    Surreptitiously, he checked his pulse.

    The rhythmic thump-thump under his fingertips was reassuringly solid. If he was dead, the special effects department was doing a damn good job.

    Then again, he ached too much for this to be the afterlife. If he was in some hellscape, he was fairly certain it wouldn¡¯t involve just a sore hip and a shredded arm. No, they¡¯d have him ripped apart repeatedly or burned alive for eternity.

    Alright. Not dead either.

    That was¡­ a relief?

    Maybe.

    The world around him was just too real¡ªtoo vivid to be an illusion. The smell of the countryside, the birdsong drifting lazily through the air, the crunch of grass and stones beneath his boots¡ªit was tangible in a way that dreams never were.

    But then again¡­

    What is real?

    How the hell was he supposed to define that anymore?

    Elves?

    And from what he had heard, dwarves?

    He could accept a lot of things, but if the dwarves ended up speaking in thick, fake Scottish accents like some Tolkien knockoff, he was going to lose his shit.

    ¡®At least nobody mentioned fucking hobbits.¡¯

    Now there was something else that gnawed at him.

    Magic.

    Del still hadn¡¯t fully come to terms with it, even though he¡¯d seen it used first-hand.

    Damn, he knew he had been given a choice when he arrived. He could have picked magic. If he was honest, he had shied away from it as it was just one step too far. A bow or a sword, he could at least understand. So instead, he went with archery¡ªwhich, let¡¯s be honest, he was terrible at.

    But that feeling¡ªthat deep, twisting pull in his gut whenever magic was used near him¡­ he wanted that. He wanted to understand it, control it, bend it to his will.

    ¡®Hey, BB. Or Menolly. Or Teach. I know one of you is watching all this crap.¡¯

    His eyes flicked up to the sky, though why he expected them to be watching from above like some omnipotent deity, he had no idea.

    ¡®What¡¯s the chance of me learning magic?¡¯

    He waited.

    Silence.

    Not even a sarcastic response from BB.

    He sighed. Didn¡¯t really expect an answer. Would have been nice, though.

    Fine. Let¡¯s deal with the facts.

    He was here, in a past he never knew Earth even had, on some bullshit quest assigned by powers beyond comprehension.

    If he accepted that as truth, then he also had to accept the utterly ridiculous premise that he had to convince some great shit-for-brains boss that humanity was worth saving.

    But then¡­

    What happens after?

    Nobody had told him that part.

    Was he just meant to walk off into the sunset once it was all said and done? Was he going to be dumped back into his sad, lonely old life, expected to carry on as if none of this had ever happened?

    And what about his stats? His skills?

    Would he lose everything? Would he go back to being a crippled shadow of himself, knowing exactly what he could have been but never would be again?

    That thought sat uncomfortably in his chest.

    It was cruel. Unforgivably so. But considering what he had already seen of the powers controlling this madness, why should fairness even be a factor?

    He was just a lab rat in a maze, running toward some unknown exit, with no real idea of the rules or even if there was an exit.

    That brought up another issue¡ªone that had been simmering in the back of his mind.

    Had he been played from the start?

    He was sent a damn fine-looking woman¡ªall the right curves, the right voice, the right mannerisms¡ªto convince him to take on something that any rational person would have laughed at.

    Would he have been given the same treatment if he had been an old woman? Would some Brad Pitt lookalike have turned up instead?

    ¡®Hey, Menolly, did you use pheromones?¡¯

    No answer.

    Figures.

    ¡®Fine. Focus, Del.¡¯

    He was here. He had a job to do.

    The problem? He had no fucking clue what that job actually was.

    ¡®A fucking job description would have been nice.¡¯

    So far, the only clear instructions were:

    <ol>

    <li> </li>

    <li>Help Elara.</li>

    </ol>

    Great. Helpful.

    And Naomi? Where did she fit into all this?

    Maybe she was important. Maybe she wasn¡¯t. Maybe she was just some random kid caught up in the chaos, completely irrelevant to whatever cosmic agenda was playing out.

    But that?

    That was something he refused to accept.

    ¡®She is a kid, Del. And you are responsible for her. Full fucking stop.¡¯

    It didn¡¯t matter if she was connected to the bigger picture. He had taken responsibility for her, and that meant something.

    And besides¡ªif something happened to Naomi, Del didn¡¯t even want to think about how it would affect Elara.

    That settled it. For now, at least.

    Look after the girls.

    Fight anyone who tries to harm them.

    And then¡ªsomehow¡ªsave the whole damn planet.

    Simple, really.

    On the third morning since the ashfang fight, they broke camp beneath a sky that promised another clear, warm day. The air was crisp in the early hours, dew clinging to the grass, but the lingering chill wouldn¡¯t last long.

    Del took a moment to absorb the scene as he finished packing the last of their gear.

    Elara was at the fire, cooking with easy efficiency, her movements smooth and unhurried. A short distance away, Naomi laughed as she played with Misty, the cat¡¯s tail flicking with a mixture of mild tolerance and reluctant amusement.

    Something eased in his chest at the sight.

    Maybe it was the first genuine smile he¡¯d allowed himself in too many days.

    Leaving his pack behind, he strode over to the fire, wrapping his arms around Elara from behind in a loose but firm embrace.

    She startled slightly before tilting her head to glance back at him, brows lifting in curiosity.

    ¡°Are you alright, Del?¡± she asked, voice gentler than usual. ¡°You''ve been a bit¡­ distant lately.¡±

    Del sighed and settled onto a nearby log, rubbing a hand over his face.

    ¡°More than a bit distracted, I¡¯m afraid,¡± he admitted. ¡°A lot has happened in a short time, and I¡¯ve just been trying to process some of it.¡±

    Elara turned slightly, her sharp green eyes searching his, reading him in that way she always did.

    ¡°And?¡± she prompted.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m getting there,¡± Del said after a moment. He let out a half-laugh, shaking his head. ¡°Life on my little island was too quiet to prepare me for¡­ well, this. The reality of Gondowa.¡±

    ¡®Well, ain¡¯t that the damn truth.¡¯

    He smiled slightly at the thought, more to himself than anything.

    ¡°I¡¯m still trying to adapt to what life is like here. But¡­ yeah. I think I¡¯m getting there.¡±

    Elara held his gaze for a long moment before nodding in quiet satisfaction.

    ¡°Good,¡± she said simply, a small but knowing smile tugging at her lips. ¡°Now get yourself washed up¡ªbreakfast will be ready soon.¡±

    Del pushed himself to his feet with a mock sigh but didn¡¯t argue.

    As he made his way toward the nearby river, he felt the familiar, soft nudge at the edge of his thoughts.

    Misty.

    Her presence was a gentle touch of curiosity, an almost wordless enquiry¡ªnot of concern, exactly, but a need for assurance.

    ¡®Are you well? Able to hunt again?¡¯

    Del let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he reached the riverbank.

    ¡®Yes, Misty. My head¡¯s back in the game. I can hunt again.¡¯

    A sense of satisfaction flickered back from her before the connection faded.

    Del knelt, scooping the cool water into his hands, letting it run over his face.

    Alright, then.

    Time to see what else this damn world was ready to throw their way

 Chapter 65 â€“ Spiders?

    Breakfast was a quiet, familiar affair, the comforting scent of roasted grain and dried meats mingling with the crisp morning air. Between them, Paolo and Donna had ensured they were well-supplied for at least the first few days of their journey, and the thought was not lost on Del. Even as he sat eating, he realised how much he had overlooked¡ªhow much he had been missing by being so wrapped up in his own mind.

    While he had trudged through his inner turmoil, barely paying attention to anything outside of it, Elara had been productive. Ever practical, she had mended her broken arrows with deft efficiency, replacing those beyond repair with new ones. It wasn¡¯t just a matter of skill; it was discipline, a refusal to let circumstances dictate her readiness. He admired that about her.

    As they packed away the last of their things, Elara spoke up.

    ¡°Last night,¡± she said, securing her quiver to her belt, ¡°Naomi¡¯s astral walk showed her a path about a mile ahead.¡±

    Del turned to Naomi with interest, chewing over the implications of that. Her ability still unsettled him on some level¡ªperhaps because it was yet another thing that defied everything he thought he knew about reality.

    ¡°So,¡± he asked, ¡°what was up this path, then, young lady?¡±

    Naomi grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. ¡°Don¡¯t know,¡± she admitted. ¡°That¡¯s what makes it so fun to go find out.¡±

    Del huffed out a quiet laugh, casting a glance towards Elara, who simply lifted a shoulder in a small shrug.

    ¡°All she could see was that it glowed,¡± she explained. ¡°Something up that path was shining brightly, but she couldn¡¯t make out what.¡±

    Del frowned slightly. ¡°A puzzle, then. Any thoughts on what we might be walking into?¡±

    Elara shook her head. ¡°We need to be careful. That kind of brightness usually means magic¡ªstrong magic. It could be anything, from an item to an entire building.¡±

    Del exhaled, rolling his shoulders. ¡°Nothing like a mystery to get the juices flowing in the morning,¡± he muttered, eliciting a giggle from Naomi.

    By the time they set out, the morning mist had begun to lift, retreating in slow, curling tendrils that clung stubbornly to the low hollows of the land. A faint sheen of moisture still clung to the grass, catching the pale morning light in tiny, dewdrop prisms. The air carried the lingering chill of dawn, mingling with the faint scent of damp earth and distant riverweed.

    The track followed the river¡¯s lazy curve, its waters sluggish and grey beneath the sun¡¯s early ascent. Here and there, clusters of reeds jutted from the shallows, their feathery tops swaying as unseen creatures stirred within. Occasionally, the rippling surface would break with the subtle movement of something below¡ªa fish, perhaps, or one of the smaller river-dwellers Naomi had once mentioned but Del had never quite caught a good look at.

    An hour passed before they spotted the trail Naomi had seen in her astral form. It was barely more than a whisper of a path, half-consumed by creeping vines and wild undergrowth, winding its way towards a distant stand of trees at the base of the valley¡¯s rising slope.

    Del came to a halt, studying it with a frown. His hand drifted to the hilt of his sword¡ªa habit more than anything, a grounding motion.

    ¡°So,¡± he asked, glancing toward Naomi, ¡°how far up this trail was your glow?¡± As he spoke, he loosened the weapon in its scabbard, just in case.

    Naomi tilted her head in thought, then gave a noncommittal shrug. ¡°Not sure. I can fly really fast in astral form, so it¡¯s hard to say how long it takes on foot.¡±

    Del sighed, rolling his shoulders as if to shake off some unseen weight. ¡°Alright, then. No rushing in blind. We take it slow until we know what we¡¯re dealing with.¡±

    His gaze flicked toward Misty, who sat just ahead of them, her tail flicking idly as she groomed herself with leisurely precision.

    ¡®Want to scout ahead, girl?¡¯ he asked, the thought reaching her across their shared link.

    Misty paused mid-lick, golden eyes narrowing slightly as she regarded him with something close to mild irritation. Then, with a final, deliberate swipe across her hindquarters¡ªone last polish for good luck¡ªshe flicked her tail and slipped noiselessly into the undergrowth, vanishing in a fluid ripple of movement.

    Del exhaled through his nose. ¡°If it¡¯s no trouble of course,¡± he muttered under his breath.

    Elara had already unslung her bow, her fingers resting lightly along the curve of the grip, ready but relaxed. She had considered the possibility of trouble before he had even spoken, and the quiet readiness in her stance made that clear.

    Satisfied they were as prepared as they could be, Del took the lead, stepping onto the narrow track.

    The path was treacherous from the start, rough underfoot, uneven where the remnants of old stonework had been overtaken by creeping grass and tangled roots. It had the unmistakable feel of something forgotten, a place that had once been known but had since been left to the slow reclamation of nature.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    What had likely been a proper road long ago had deteriorated into little more than a game trail, winding unevenly through thickening undergrowth. The scent of damp bark and rich, loamy soil thickened the air. More than once, Del had to duck low-hanging branches or carefully navigate thorny brambles that reached out as if seeking to snag at his clothing.

    Signs of life were everywhere, if one knew where to look.

    In a patch of softened earth, he spotted a set of fresh hoofprints¡ªlikely from a dinkus, it¡¯s tracks quite distinctive. Nearby, fainter still, were the delicate indentations of smaller paws¡ªperhaps funnips, though he hadn¡¯t caught sight of one so far today. A little further along, the faint traces of Misty¡¯s own prints joined them, her movements precise and deliberate, weaving effortlessly through the shifting wilderness.

    Crouching, Del ran his fingers over the shallow indent in the damp soil, tracing the faint impression left behind. The print was fresh¡ªhours old at most. He tilted his head slightly, observing the spacing of the tracks. The creature had moved cautiously, as if aware of something it didn¡¯t quite trust.

    ¡®I hope you aren¡¯t getting distracted with hunting,¡¯ he murmured through his link with Misty.

    A dry, contemptuous snort echoed in the back of his mind, the unmistakable touch of the cat¡¯s unimpressed amusement.

    Del smirked, shaking his head. ¡®Alright, alright. As if I could doubt your professionalism, you are a good cat.¡¯

    They continued up the trail, and gradually, the world around them seemed to shift. The river¡¯s soft murmur, which had been a constant presence, faded behind them, swallowed by the thickening embrace of the trees. A hush settled over the path¡ªnot silence, exactly, but something more delicate, more deliberate.

    The usual background noise of rustling undergrowth and chittering creatures felt¡­ dampened. As though the land itself was holding its breath.

    A breeze stirred the canopy overhead, sending a ripple of movement through the scattered leaves. Their branches swayed gently, but down here, closer to the earth, the undergrowth remained unnervingly still. No small animals darted through the brush. No insects hummed at the edges of hearing. Even the birdsong, which had been so constant earlier, now came in hesitant, scattered notes rather than a continuous chorus.

    Del¡¯s fingers instinctively curled around the hilt of his sword. The change was subtle but unmistakable.

    Whatever lay ahead, it was waiting for them.

    The scent of damp earth and sun-warmed greenery filled the air, mingling with something lighter, almost floral¡ªperhaps a lingering trace of glasswort or some other delicate woodland bloom. The terrain remained open, not quite a true forest, but the trees were denser here, their roots curling through the soil in a network of twisting, knotted shapes.

    As they walked, Del reached down now and then to gather plants, slipping them into his pouch with practiced ease. Some he recognised¡ªcommon herbs and roots that he had learned to use for teas or simple remedies¡ªbut others remained unfamiliar, their leaves tinged with odd hues or their stems exuding faint, unplaceable scents.

    He wasn¡¯t the only one collecting supplies. Elara moved with quiet efficiency, pausing at intervals to examine certain plants before plucking them with precise movements. Naomi trailed beside her, listening intently as Elara explained the uses of each find.

    ¡°That one?¡± Naomi asked, pointing at a deep green fern with red-veined leaves.

    Elara nodded. ¡°Bloodroot Fern. A great plant for helping bones heal.¡±

    Naomi blinked, glancing between the fern and Elara with new appreciation. ¡°That¡¯s amazing. You know so much about this stuff.¡±

    Elara smiled faintly. ¡°You pick things up when you need to survive.¡±

    Del caught Naomi¡¯s thoughtful look at that. For all her youth and boundless energy, the girl was beginning to understand that survival wasn¡¯t just about play fighting and hide and seek.

    The scent of fresh mint drifted on the air, catching Del¡¯s attention. He followed it to a shaded thicket where the leaves grew in abundance, the plants thriving in the damp soil. Crouching, he plucked a few sprigs, rolling a leaf between his fingers and inhaling deeply. The crisp, cool aroma was instantly refreshing.

    ¡°Tea¡¯s going to taste better tonight,¡± he murmured to himself as he tucked the mint into his pouch.

    Then, as he straightened, he realised that something had changed.

    It wasn¡¯t immediate, nor was it dramatic. But a shift prickled at the edges of his awareness¡ªa sensation just beyond the grasp of words.

    Not a spell. Not a physical disturbance.

    Something deeper.

    The air thickened, though it remained clear. A weight pressed at the edges of perception, an ambient charge that tingled against his skin. It reminded him of the static in the air before a storm, that peculiar sense of gathering potential before the first crack of thunder.

    Glancing back, he caught sight of Elara a few paces behind. She, too, had stopped, her posture alert but still, her gaze scanning the treetops and the path ahead. When their eyes met, she gave a slight nod.

    She felt it too.

    ¡°Any ideas?¡± Del asked.

    ¡°Not yet,¡± she murmured, brow creasing in thought. ¡°But whatever Naomi discovered last night is close.¡±

    Del carefully tucked the mint into his pack, securing it neatly before shifting his focus inward.

    ¡®Anything, Misty?¡¯

    He waited. A few moments passed before her voice curled lazily through his thoughts.

    ¡®Dusty building.¡¯

    Del¡¯s lips quirked slightly. That was about as much detail as he had expected.

    ¡®Any dangers?¡¯

    The response came with a familiar, dry amusement.

    ¡®Spiders?¡¯

    He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. ¡°Damn cat,¡± he muttered under his breath before turning back to the others.

    ¡°I just had a chat with Misty.¡±

    Naomi¡¯s eyes widened, her mouth forming a small ¡®O¡¯ of surprise, while Elara merely arched a brow in mild curiosity. Del realised he had never actually mentioned Misty¡¯s talent to Naomi before now.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± he continued, ¡°up ahead is some old building. From what I can gather, it seems deserted¡ªaside from a few bugs.¡±

    Elara gave a slow nod, considering.

    ¡°Do you think it could be the source of this increase in ambient mana?¡± Del asked her.

    She thought for a moment before answering. ¡°If it is, that would explain why all Naomi could see was a bright glow. Her talent is only just beginning to develop, and the mana concentration in this area might have been enough to overwhelm it.¡±

    Del exhaled, casting a glance up the overgrown trail. ¡°Well, let¡¯s go explore a creepy old building, then,¡± he said with mock enthusiasm. Lifting his arms, he let out a long, theatrical moan, adopting the clumsy lurch of a storybook spectre.

    Elara rolled her eyes and gave him a playful slap on the arm, while Naomi giggled, clearly enjoying the moment.

    Their path lay ahead, waiting.

 Chapter 66 â€“ The Shrine

    Through the dense weave of trees, a shape begins to emerge¡ªindistinct at first, a pale smudge against the shifting greens and browns of the forest. As they draw closer, the details resolve, the structure standing quiet and patient in its decay.

    It had once been white, Del would guess, though time had long since robbed it of any purity. The stone was now streaked with age, its surface dappled with creeping ivy and thick coats of moss, lending it an almost overgrown reverence, as if the forest itself had claimed it as part of its domain. The years had softened its edges, blurred the lines between the crafted and the natural¡ªa forgotten thing, now cradled in the arms of nature.

    They paused at the treeline, taking it in.

    The shape reminded Del of a vast stone gazebo, though more enclosed. Circular, with a domed roof, it had an oddly graceful symmetry, as if it had been built with purpose beyond simple shelter. A short hall protruded from the main structure¡ªlikely an entryway, its arch still standing strong despite the slow creep of decay. The walls, made of massive stone blocks, held narrow arched windows, evenly spaced around the perimeter.

    The entire place exuded an eerie stillness, a quiet hum that wasn¡¯t quite silence, as if the land here held its breath.

    Naomi shifted beside them, gripping Elara¡¯s hand tighter.

    ¡°It makes me feel all burbly inside,¡± she said suddenly, her voice hushed but full of unease.

    Del glanced at her, noting the slight tremor in her fingers.

    ¡°That¡¯s the magic in the air,¡± Elara explained, her voice calm, reassuring. ¡°Your mana inside is recognising and reacting to the power in the building.¡±

    Del exhaled slowly, eyes flicking back to the structure. The air felt different here¡ªthicker, not in a way that stifled, but one that pressed in on the senses, subtly altering perception.

    ¡°So, is the building itself magical,¡± he asked, ¡°or do you think it¡¯s something within the building?¡±

    Elara hesitated, weighing the question. She studied the walls, the creeping vines, the way the moss clung as if drawn to the stone. Finally, she shook her head.

    ¡°It¡¯s too ambiguous at the moment,¡± she admitted. ¡°It could be either. Or both.¡±

    Del nodded, rubbing his hands together. ¡°Or none of the above.¡±

    A flicker of movement caught his attention¡ªMisty, perched neatly on the stone steps leading to the doorway, her golden eyes watching them with that usual air of knowing detachment.

    ¡°Well,¡± Del said, stepping forward, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. ¡°Let¡¯s go exploring then.¡±

    As they moved closer, the air thickened further, the ambient mana shifting again. It climbed higher, then levelled, no longer growing but settling into something steady.

    Del frowned, his skin prickling with something more than just magic¡ªa familiarity.

    It was as if the mana carried a flavour, distinct yet recognisable. He furrowed his brow, searching for the connection, until it clicked. Elara¡¯s magic. It was different, yes, but there was something in its essence that felt aligned.

    He turned to her, meeting her eyes. She was already nodding.

    ¡°Nature magic,¡± she confirmed, her voice quiet with understanding. ¡°I think this may be a lost shrine.¡±

    Del let the words sink in. A shrine. He turned back to the building, studying its shape with renewed interest.

    ¡°Am I imagining things,¡± he murmured, ¡°or does it feel old¡­ damaged somehow? Your magic always feels fresh and vibrant, but this¡­ this feels off.¡±

    The sensation wasn¡¯t just strange¡ªit was unnerving. Something about it itched at the edge of his awareness, like a sound just beyond hearing.

    ¡°It¡¯s like it''s making my teeth ache in response,¡± he tried to describe a dull pressure in his jaw that he couldn¡¯t quite explain.

    ¡®What the fuck are you going on about, Del? Teeth ache?¡¯

    The voice in his head was as unhelpful as ever.

    ¡®Shut up. You try and describe something you didn¡¯t even know existed a couple of weeks back.¡¯

    Elara tilted her head, considering. ¡°Yes,¡± she murmured, her brows drawing together. ¡°It¡¯s got a nature attunement, but¡­ it¡¯s not quite right.¡±

    ¡®See? Elara gets it.¡¯

    Naomi shifted closer, pressing against them, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve.

    ¡°It¡¯s bad but also good,¡± she said, frowning. ¡°Like¡­ like too many sweet treats.¡±

    Del¡¯s internal voice chuckled darkly.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡®So that¡¯s why your teeth ache.¡¯

    He ignored it.

    ¡°Well,¡± Del said decisively, rolling his shoulders, ¡°let¡¯s go check it out.¡±

    He nodded toward Misty, who remained calmly seated on the steps, tail curled neatly around her paws.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t seem overly concerned.¡±

    And that, at least, was something.

    The building¡¯s steps led up to a dark, arched doorway, its yawning entrance like a mouth left frozen mid-silent scream. The stone beneath Del¡¯s boots was rough with age, the edges softened by time and weather, yet the structure still held onto its presence¡ªa forgotten relic, waiting.

    One of the great wooden doors had collapsed, lying twisted on the ground, half-buried under years of leaf litter and moss. The wood had rotted through, the metal hinges still clinging stubbornly to the frame as if refusing to acknowledge their failure. The other door remained half-ajar, jammed against a gathering of decayed debris¡ªthe slow accumulation of nature reclaiming what had been abandoned.

    Del peered inside, eyes adjusting to the gloom.

    Misty had been right. Dust. Cobwebs. Stillness.

    Light streamed in through the narrow slit windows, piercing the dimness in sharp golden beams. The air stirred at their arrival, sending glinting motes dancing through the sunbeams, as if the very presence of new life had disturbed something long undisturbed.

    A chill ran down his spine.

    ¡°Shall we?¡± Del asked, turning to the others.

    Neither Elara nor Naomi answered, but after a brief hesitation, they stepped forward as one.

    As they crossed the threshold, the air changed.

    It pressed inward, thick and heavy, like stepping into a sealed room untouched for centuries. Yet that didn¡¯t make sense. The doors were open, broken, even, and though the windows were narrow, they had never been glazed. The air should have moved freely.

    Instead, it sat still, stagnant.

    It carried the musty scent of old stone, the faint dampness of moss, and something deeper, something lingering just beneath¡ªa scent not quite decay, not quite earth, but something between.

    Through some of the windows, ivy had crept inside, tendrils snaking along the walls as if reaching, searching for something within. The vines seemed almost deliberate, their path winding through the broken stonework with unnatural intent.

    A sudden scuttle of tiny feet broke the hush.

    Misty¡¯s ears flicked up instantly.

    ¡®Dinner?¡¯ she inquired, her thoughts slipping lazily into Del¡¯s mind.

    ¡®Maybe for you, girl. Sounded a bit too much like a mouse to tempt my appetite.¡¯

    She huffed, casting him a disdainful look.

    ¡®If you want to hunt it, fine. But let me know if there¡¯s anything dangerous ahead.¡¯

    Without another word, she leapt forward, vanishing into the shadows, her movements utterly silent.

    The entry hall stretched ahead of them, maybe twenty feet long, its ceiling arching overhead in a forgotten elegance now worn with age. Del immediately regretted every sarcastic quip about spooky places¡ªthis place wasn¡¯t just unsettling.

    It was wrong.

    And they hadn¡¯t even reached the main chamber yet.

    If this was a shrine, he sure as hell wouldn¡¯t want to worship here. Some things were better left sleeping.

    Taking a breath¡ªone he suspected was mirrored by the others¡ªDel stepped forward.

    At the far end of the corridor stood another set of doors, these still intact. One had been pushed open just enough for them to squeeze through.

    Beyond, the chamber stretched out before them.

    A vast, circular space, thirty feet across, its domed ceiling towering overhead. Time had left its mark here, but it was not time alone that had done the damage.

    In the centre of the room, a round pool lay mostly dry, the stone basin cracked and uneven. Only scattered puddles remained, rainwater that had found its way in through displaced roof tiles, pooling in the fractures of a once-pristine floor.

    But it was what stood at the heart of the pool that caught Del¡¯s attention.

    A statue, rising from a low plinth, broken and battered.

    He barely had time to process its significance before he heard Elara¡¯s breath catch in her throat.

    His entire body tensed.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Del asked, every nerve on edge.

    Elara¡¯s gaze remained locked on the figure. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, reverent.

    ¡°It¡¯s Myrrith. Goddess of nature and balance.¡± She hesitated. ¡°She is revered by elves, among others, and it is from her that my own magic is derived.¡±

    Del studied the broken and crumbling form. A woman once beautifully carved, her head adorned with antlers, her hands holding floral wreaths and other growing things.

    Naomi¡¯s voice was small, hesitant. ¡°But she¡¯s broken.¡±

    ¡°I know, angel,¡± Elara said softly. Her grief was quiet but palpable. ¡°Something happened here. Something that wasn¡¯t good.¡±

    Del glanced around the chamber, his gut twisting.

    The damage wasn¡¯t natural decay.

    It wasn¡¯t just the slow erosion of years, the patient work of wind and rain.

    This place had been desecrated.

    The bad feeling¡ªthat off-kilter sensation he had struggled to describe earlier¡ªit all made sense now.

    Naomi shifted uneasily. ¡°That¡­ feeling inside?¡±

    Elara nodded. ¡°Yes, Naomi. The good is what remains of my goddess¡¯s presence. The bad¡­¡± She paused. ¡°Whatever happened to her.¡±

    Del took a step closer to the statue, eyes tracing the damage.

    Her arms had been severed, the stone shattered at the joints, leaving only jagged stumps where her hands once held symbols of growth and life. One of her antlers lay smashed on the floor, partially ground to dust.

    But it wasn¡¯t just the destruction of the statue that set Del¡¯s nerves on edge.

    The walls and floor bore dark arcane symbols, painted in thick, uneven strokes. They flexed and shifted at the edges of his vision, distorting unnaturally, making his stomach churn the longer he looked.

    The pigment was dark¡ªsoot, perhaps¡­ or something worse.

    Del¡¯s hands clenched into fists.

    He turned to Elara¡ªonly to find tears streaming silently down her face.

    Naomi stood beside her, confused and frightened, her small hands gripping at the fabric of Elara¡¯s sleeve.

    Without thinking, Del placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.

    And then¡ªA nudge at the edge of his mind.

    Del turned his attention to Misty and then he felt.

    A shift¡ªsubtle, but unmistakable.

    The moment stretched, a lingering silence that felt too heavy, too expectant.

    Something was wrong.

    Misty stood motionless on the far side of the pool, her tail low, ears forward. Watching. Waiting.

    She wasn¡¯t grooming. She wasn¡¯t prowling.

    She was listening.

    Del frowned, his stomach tightening. He followed her gaze and¡ª

    At first, he didn¡¯t see it.

    Just a break in the floor, a jagged shape where the tiles had collapsed inward.

    Then his eyes adjusted.

    A trapdoor. Open. Dark. Waiting.

    The air above it was different¡ªheavier, carrying something that didn¡¯t belong.

    Then came the smell. Not just old air or damp stone. Something deeper. Foul, thick, seeping up like breath from something long buried.

    A sound.

    Click.

    Soft. Subtle.

    Not mechanical. Not stone shifting.

    Click¡­ click-click.

    A pause.

    Then another¡ªcloser this time.

    The rhythm was off, like something shuffling or maybe limping.

    Misty¡¯s fur bristled. Her tail flicked once, sharply.

    Del¡¯s pulse hammered against his ribs.

    The others hadn¡¯t noticed yet.

    But they would.

    Because whatever was down there¡­

    It most definitely wasn¡¯t the mice his cat had been hunting.

 Chapter 67 â€“ This ones mine

    ¡®Misty?¡¯ Del¡¯s voice rang through his mind, sharp with urgency.

    The cat didn¡¯t answer. Instead, her fur bristled, standing on end until she seemed to swell in size, her sleek frame now a mass of rippling muscle and sharpened angles. A low, rolling snarl vibrated through the air, deeper than it had any right to be, more like something that belonged to a creature twice¡ªno, three times¡ªher size.

    Del watched, transfixed, as her claws extended, curving into wicked points that caught the dim light. Her teeth, already sharp, seemed to lengthen, gleaming like tiny daggers. And her eyes¡­

    Her eyes burned gold, molten and alive, like twin suns set in the face of something no longer entirely feline.

    A shiver licked its way down Del¡¯s spine.

    ¡®What the fuck happened to my little kitty?¡¯

    Swallowing against the dryness in his throat, he tried again. This time, his voice came out hoarse. ¡°Misty?¡±

    ¡®I hunt.¡¯

    The thought came through the bond¡ªraw, guttural, not the usual lazy amusement or sarcastic quips he was used to. This was something primal, stripped down to instinct and intent.

    ¡®Protect the kitten.¡¯

    And with that, she was gone¡ªone fluid movement, her powerful form springing into the darkness below, swallowed by the gaping maw of the trapdoor.

    Del barely had time to process before instinct took over. Without hesitation, he scooped Naomi up, ignoring her startled gasp, and set her securely atop Myrrith¡¯s statue. She clung to the stone shoulders, wide-eyed, her fingers gripping the cold surface in terror.

    ¡°Stay,¡± he ordered.

    Naomi gave a jerky nod, her gaze locked on the darkness Misty had disappeared into.

    ¡°Elara, stay with her,¡± Del added, glancing back at the elf. ¡°I need to help Misty.¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡± Elara hesitated, her brows knitting together. ¡°What if you need me?¡±

    Del¡¯s jaw tightened. He wasn¡¯t sure what was waiting for him down there, but Naomi couldn¡¯t be left unguarded. If something¡ªanything¡ªgot past him, Elara was the last line of defence.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± he said, though the words felt like a lie the moment they left his lips. ¡°Naomi needs you more. Do you have anything I can use for light?¡±

    Their torches were still packed away, and fumbling with flint and tinder now would waste precious seconds they might not have.

    Elara exhaled sharply, then reached out, pressing her fingers to the back of his hand.

    A whisper of mana curled around his skin, and suddenly, soft light bloomed from the point of contact. It wasn¡¯t fire, nor heat, nor even something tangible¡ªjust a quiet glow, like a piece of starlight trapped beneath his skin.

    Del flexed his fingers, fascinated despite himself. Neat.

    The glow wasn¡¯t harsh or flickering. It simply was. Illuminating his hand and casting a gentle radiance over the surrounding air.

    He drew his sword with one hand, the other retrieving a venom dagger. He had no idea what waited below, but he sure as hell wasn¡¯t going down unarmed.

    Elara had already positioned herself near Naomi, bow at the ready.

    Without another word, Del turned and descended into the dark.

    The stairwell stretched before him, a narrow tunnel of rough-hewn stone, its descent seeming to lead endlessly downward. The moment he stepped beyond the trapdoor, the air changed.

    Thicker. Heavier.

    Cold crept over his skin, burrowing deep into his bones. It was more than just temperature¡ªit was wrong, a stillness that pressed inward, making the very air feel dense.

    The further he went, the worse it became.

    The scent of rot, already foul above, was suffocating here. Decay clung to the damp walls, thick and cloying, like a thousand years of death had settled into the very stone.

    His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword.

    Ahead, the light from his hand stretched just far enough to show the end of the stairwell¡ªa jagged archway leading into deeper blackness. The darkness beyond it felt thicker, more solid, like a living thing watching him approach.

    And then¡ªmovement.

    Something shifted ahead, just at the edge of his light. A shadow, too rigid to be mist, too still to be alive.

    Then it moved again.

    A shape began to emerge from the stairwell below, dragging itself upwards with slow, deliberate motions.

    Del stopped.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    The thing that crawled into his light was¡­ wrong.

    At first, he thought it might have once been a beast of some kind. The structure of its limbs, the hunched posture, suggested something animalistic¡ªperhaps an ape, or something similar. But there was no flesh, no muscle, nothing to give it weight.

    Just bone.

    Bleached white and cracked with age, its skeleton was held together by a faint, pulsating glow. Purple light clung to each piece, a thin veil of energy connecting the bones where sinew and ligaments should have been.

    And then it lifted its head.

    The skull was elongated, too large for a human but with just enough similarity to be disturbing. Deep-set eye sockets burned with eerie, violet fire, twin points of unnatural light that flickered and pulsed.

    Del¡¯s breath shallowed.

    One of its legs was missing. It had been torn free at the hip, leaving a jagged gap in its form.

    It didn¡¯t seem to care.

    It just kept crawling.

    ¡®Did Misty do that?¡¯

    The thought barely had time to register before the thing dragged itself another step forward, its remaining hand clicking against the stone as it pulled its ruined form up towards him.

    Click. Scrape. Click. Scrape.

    The sound was slow. Steady.

    Relentless.

    And in the silence of the stairwell, it was deafening.

    Del swallowed against the sickly feeling curling in his gut.

    His fingers tightened around his blade, and he exhaled, forcing himself to move.

    Below, snarls and the crunch of breaking bone echoed through the chamber, a symphony of chaos that sent a sharp pulse of urgency through Del¡¯s veins. Misty was fighting. He had no idea how many of those things were down there, but she wasn¡¯t holding back.

    The creature in front of him pulled itself higher, dragging its ruined body up the steps, its single skeletal arm clawing for purchase. The glow in its eyes burned brighter now, as if it had fully registered his presence.

    ¡®This one¡¯s mine.¡¯

    Del adjusted his grip on his sword, preparing to take the offensive. Charging down at the thing was reckless, but the itch in his muscles demanded action. He pushed forward, steps quickening¡ªtwo at a time, then three¡ªmomentum building as he raised his sword for a downward slash¡ª

    And then his foot slipped.

    The world lurched violently.

    ¡°Oh shiiit¡ª!¡±

    The step beneath him was slick¡ªmoss, or maybe just condensation from the thick, stagnant air. Either way, he was airborne before he had time to register it.

    His arms flailed, reaching for something¡ªanything¡ªto slow his descent. Nothing but damp stone and empty space. His dagger wrenched from his grip, spinning off into the darkness, lost before he even had time to curse.

    Gravity claimed him.

    He went down headfirst, hurtling towards the skeleton, whose glowing eye sockets somehow widened in what looked like¡ª

    ¡°Shock? Oh, fuck no¡ª"

    The impact was nothing short of catastrophic.

    Del collided with the undead monstrosity at full force, his shoulder driving straight into its ribcage. The thing had no weight to it, no flesh to absorb the momentum, and together they tumbled down the rest of the stairwell in a chaotic mess of flailing limbs and clattering bone.

    Stone steps slammed into him from every direction, bruising ribs, knees, elbows¡ªhe lost count of how many times he bounced before they finally reached the bottom.

    The last hit cracked something loudly, and for a horrible moment, he thought it was his own bones¡ªuntil he realised the skeleton beneath him had shattered.

    The thing¡¯s skull rolled away, jaw clicking open as the violet glow in its sockets flickered and faded. A breathy, unnatural sigh escaped from the remains, and then¡ªnothing.

    Just stillness.

    Del groaned, face-down on the cold stone.

    ¡®How the hell does a bunch of bones sigh? No damn lungs!¡¯

    A sharp ding echoed in his mind, followed by text blinking into his vision:

    [Congratulations; You have slain Skeleton Warrior Lv. 5. Experience gained.]

    He closed his eyes for a second. Then let his head drop back against the floor.

    ¡®Oh, piss off.¡¯

    Every inch of him throbbed. The bruises were already forming¡ªhe could feel them blooming beneath his skin, each one a complaint against his utter lack of grace.

    Rolling onto his side, he spotted his dagger a few feet away, resting in a shallow pool of something dark. He stretched out, grimacing as his ribs protested, and snatched it up before pushing himself into a crouch.

    Beyond the arch, Misty¡¯s battle raged on.

    The snarls. The relentless crashes of impact.

    Del exhaled sharply, forcing his aching body to move.

    ¡®Not a zombie apocalypse, but fuck, man¡ªskeletons?

    He wasn¡¯t sure if his inner voice was thrilled by the thought or absolutely horrified.

    Him? Definitely the latter.

    But there was no time to sit around and process his existential crisis. He had work to do. He had people to protect.

    And he needed to figure out what the hell was going on with his damn cat.

    He stepped through the archway¡ªand into sheer chaos.

    The chamber beyond was vast, larger than he had expected, its walls lined with crumbling stone pillars wrapped in creeping tendrils of something too dark to be ivy. The air was thick¡ªcharged¡ªnot just with the oppressive magic that had hung over the shrine above, but with something else. Something raw.

    And at the centre of it¡ª

    Misty.

    She moved like liquid fury, weaving through the skeletal horde with impossible grace. Her body twisted, claws carving through ribs and spines as though they were paper. Bones shattered beneath her strikes, purple mana flaring wildly as it fought to reassemble its broken vessels¡ªonly for her to tear them apart again.

    ¡®It has to be Misty. It¡¯s ginger and killing things.¡¯

    But gods, she was bigger.

    Not just slightly.

    Easily more than three times the size he¡¯d always known her to be; more like the size of a small leopard, her presence now almost unnatural in its intensity. Every movement had a weight behind it, her strikes hitting with an impact that shouldn¡¯t belong to something her size.

    Her fur, that familiar deep ginger, looked different too. Not just vibrant¡ªmore real.

    Like everything else around her was faded, dulled by time and decay, and she alone had stepped forward into some sharper reality.

    Mana thrummed through the air, crackling between the competing forces.

    The skeletons¡ªeach one burning with that deep, wrong purple energy¡ªwere feeding off something. The desecration of the shrine, the lingering corruption that had been carved into its bones.

    And above, Del could feel the energy of Myrrith.

    Weak, struggling, but still present. Fighting to push back the darkness that had tainted her shrine.

    But there was a third force here.

    Something boiling, rippling through the air like heat haze, pouring out from his damn cat.

    A different magic entirely.

    It rolled off Misty in waves, twisting the atmosphere, pressing against both the shrine¡¯s lingering holiness and the corrupted mana of the undead.

    It was hers.

    A force separate from the gods, separate from the defiled sanctuary they stood in.

    Del¡¯s fingers tightened around his sword hilt. His mind scrambled for an answer, for a way to understand what he was seeing, but it just¡ª

    Didn¡¯t make sense.

    ¡®What in all the hells has Misty gone and done now?¡¯

    His internal voice¡ªalways unhelpful¡ªcut in with its usual brilliance.

    ¡®Who gives a fuck? It¡¯s working, and she¡¯s on our side. Now damn well fight before you get clonked and die.¡¯

    Del exhaled sharply.

    ¡®Fair point.

    The skeletons weren¡¯t slowing.

    Misty could handle herself, but this wasn¡¯t just about survival anymore. There was something happening in this shrine¡ªsomething bigger than a simple battle¡ªand he had the sinking feeling that if they didn¡¯t stop it now, they weren¡¯t going to like what came next.

    Rolling his shoulders, Del adjusted his grip on his sword and charged into the fray.

 Chapter 68 â€“ Bones

    The room was pure madness.

    Shapes moved too fast to track, bone and steel flashing through Elara¡¯s unnatural, shadowless light. There was no time to process individual enemies¡ªjust the constant, instinct-driven cycle of strike, block, evade.

    Del¡¯s sword was in motion before his mind could catch up. He swung to his left, deflecting the arc of a rusted mace, then twisted right, slicing through the brittle spine of another advancing skeleton. Bone fragments exploded into the air, raining down over his shoulders.

    Something lunged at him from behind¡ªa mass of bones more than a clear shape. He reacted on instinct, whipping his dagger backward in a short, vicious stab.

    Nothing.

    The blade slid uselessly through empty ribs, finding nothing solid to pierce.

    ¡®Okay. Stabbing¡¯s fucking useless.¡¯

    Del yanked the dagger back, shifting tactics. The flat of his sword worked better¡ªblunt force was the key. If he hit hard enough, the damn things broke, magic or not.

    The skeleton in front of him raised an old, jagged sword. He stepped in fast, slamming the flat of his blade across its skull with a sharp, ringing crack. The impact shattered bone, sending its head cartwheeling through the air before it landed with a dull thunk against the floor.

    The body kept moving.

    Even headless, it staggered forward, still reaching.

    Del barely had time to process before Misty¡¯s hulking form pounced from the side, her claws shearing through the glowing tendrils of magic holding the skeleton together. The purple energy burst apart, flickering like a dying ember as the bones collapsed into a pile of lifeless remains.

    No time to breathe. More coming.

    Del pivoted, barely dodging a war axe that whistled past his face. He dropped low, swept his leg out, and took the skeleton¡¯s feet out from under it. Before it could reassemble, he brought his blade down like a guillotine, splintering it from hip to collarbone.

    The ground beneath him was treacherous now¡ªlittered with bone fragments, skulls, shattered weapons. His foot slid slightly as he adjusted his stance, catching on something round and disturbingly intact.

    A ribcage. Still glowing.

    It twitched.

    The shattered bones were trying to pull themselves back together.

    His gut twisted. The magic keeping these things alive wasn¡¯t just a passive force¡ªit was actively fighting against their destruction.

    Misty, still in the thick of the fray, snarled and spat something guttural into his mind.

    ¡®Too much mana. It lingers. It feeds.¡¯

    The fight was a goddamn war of attrition. If they didn¡¯t finish this quickly, these things would just keep rising.

    A flash of movement¡ªsomething big.

    A bulky skeleton, larger than the others, charged toward him, wielding an ancient flail. The chain whirled in the air, a heavy iron weight at the end swinging like a wrecking ball.

    Del braced himself, lifting his sword¡ª

    The impact nearly knocked it from his grip.

    ¡°Fuck.¡±

    His arms vibrated with the sheer force of the blow. He staggered, barely keeping his footing as the flail snapped back for another swing.

    Too slow. Not enough room to dodge.

    He acted on impulse¡ªducked in low, inside its reach, and thrust his blade upward.

    The point met resistance¡ªlodging into something solid. For a second, Del thought he¡¯d hit the thing¡¯s spine¡ª

    Then he realised his blade wasn¡¯t moving.

    His arms jerked as he tried to pull back. Something had caught it.

    ¡®Oh. Oh, fuck.¡¯

    The flail skeleton wasn¡¯t dead¡ªjust impaled.

    And in his attempt to kill it, he¡¯d pinned its skull onto the end of his own fucking sword.

    A sickening, hollow clunk sounded as the rest of the skeleton collapsed behind him¡ªbut the damn skull stayed stuck.

    For half a second, Del and the severed head impaled on his blade just stared at each other.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    It blinked.

    He blinked.

    ¡®Oh, fuck off.¡¯

    A second skeleton charged from the right. Del had no time to pull his blade free, so¡ªinstinct took over.

    He swung.

    The impaled skull smashed into the charging skeleton¡¯s face, exploding into fragments of ancient teeth and shards of ivory.

    The remaining body toppled, its glow snuffed out instantly.

    ¡®What. The actual. Fuck.¡¯

    The room stilled.

    The only sound left was their own breathing¡ªharsh and ragged.

    Del blinked through the dust and bone fragments, glancing around. The fighting had stopped.

    Misty stood a few feet away, watching him with those eerie, golden eyes.

    ¡®Is that all of them?¡¯ he asked through the link.

    The big cat twitched her tail once.

    ¡®Here, yes.¡¯ A pause. ¡®Something other. In the far room.¡¯

    Del followed her gaze.

    At the far end of the room, another archway yawned open, a gaping maw of absolute darkness.

    The air around it felt different¡ªdense, oppressive, pulsing with something old and angry.

    Something that hadn¡¯t bothered to send its minions to fight.

    Something that was waiting.

    His muscles ached. He had no idea how many he¡¯d fought¡ªprobably more than he cared to count. He could already feel bruises forming beneath his skin, the sharp sting of slashes that had broken through his defences.

    But he wasn¡¯t dead.

    And that meant there was more work to do.

    Misty was watching him.

    Del wiped sweat from his forehead, then turned to face the waiting darkness.

    The battle had been bad. This would be worse.

    And whatever was in there?

    It already knew they were coming.

    The battlefield was a graveyard twice over.

    Bones lay in shattered heaps around them, fragments of ribs, femurs, and skulls forming an uneven, treacherous landscape of the fallen. The air still hummed with the lingering echoes of combat¡ªan eerie resonance of dark mana fading into the stone.

    Del exhaled, his breath coming sharp and ragged.

    How many had they killed? Too many. And yet, it still felt like not enough.

    He could count the skulls, if he could be arsed. But really, what was the point?

    The bloody BB system would vomit out a combat report eventually, a neat little notification to let him know exactly how many skeletal bastards he¡¯d reduced to dust.

    For now, though, all that mattered was the next fight.

    Because the real threat was still out there. Waiting.

    That oppressive, malevolent presence hadn¡¯t faded¡ªit was just watching.

    Measuring them.

    Assessing.

    With a heavy sigh, Del forced himself to straighten. His muscles protested. Bruises were forming, hidden beneath his armour and clothes, deep aches he knew he¡¯d feel in full force later. A shallow cut along his ribs stung like hell, and his hands were starting to shake from exhaustion.

    He couldn¡¯t afford to go into the next fight like this.

    ¡°Did anything in the job description mention garbage disposal?¡± he muttered under his breath.

    A deadpan voice answered in his head.

    ¡®What fucking job description?¡¯

    Del huffed out a laugh despite himself. Fair point.

    He reached into his belt pouch, fingers closing around the smooth glass of a healing potion. He hated using them¡ªtoo few, and no idea when they¡¯d find more¡ªbut something told him that if he went in there half-mangled, he wouldn¡¯t be walking out.

    The thick, red liquid slid down his throat like warm honey, rich with an unnatural energy that spread instantly through his body. It burned¡ªa deep, satisfying heat, knitting flesh, mending tissue, pushing bruises back into nothing.

    Del flexed his fingers as the cuts on his arms vanished before his eyes.

    His spine clicked back into place as he rolled his shoulders.

    Holy shit, that felt good.

    His body still ached¡ªpotions didn¡¯t fix everything¡ªbut at least he didn¡¯t feel like he¡¯d been thrown down a flight of stairs anymore.

    Time to move.

    He turned to Misty. She had not relaxed. If anything, she looked more tense¡ªher tail low, ears angled forward in hunting posture, muscles thrumming with coiled violence.

    ¡°Misty. Ready?¡±

    She didn¡¯t blink. Didn¡¯t hesitate.

    The voice in his mind was sharper than before, darker with something that wasn¡¯t quite the cat he knew.

    ¡®Let¡¯s hunt.¡¯

    She took the lead, gliding forward with silent, predatory intent.

    Del followed, adjusting his grip on his sword, trying not to focus on how slick the hilt had become in his grip. He wasn¡¯t scared. Not exactly.

    Just¡­ keyed up.

    Like something inside him already knew they were walking into something bigger.

    The hallway was unnaturally quiet.

    Only twenty feet long¡ªnot much space between them and whatever waited ahead.

    But the air was wrong.

    Heavy. Waiting.

    The kind of silence that wasn¡¯t empty, but full.

    Something was here.

    Something old, something malevolent.

    Drip.

    A single drop of water hit stone somewhere in the distance.

    Drip. Drip. Drip.

    Steady. Rhythmic. Like an incipient heartbeat, marking time as they approached.

    Del¡¯s pulse matched it. His breathing slowed to the same cadence.

    His fingers tightened on his sword, and he could hear the slight hitch in his own breath as the pressure in the air built.

    The sensation wasn¡¯t constant. It swelled, rose like a tide, then drew back, only to return stronger.

    Like breathing.

    Like whatever was inside that next chamber wasn¡¯t just waiting¡ªit was¡­ sensing. Feeling them. Adjusting.

    He swallowed.

    Looked down.

    Misty¡¯s massive form moved beside him, her long claws ticking softly against the stone. The glow in her golden eyes flickered, catching the light, making her face seem almost inhumanly feral.

    For a split second, Del wondered what it would feel like to be her prey.

    He shook the thought away.

    Tension made his thoughts drift to weird places.

    Still, he had to ask.

    ¡®This¡­ change. Is it permanent?¡¯

    Misty¡¯s thoughts curled lazily into his mind.

    ¡®Just for hunting.¡¯

    Simple. Matter-of-fact.

    He found himself grinning at that.

    For all the madness of the past few hours, at least one thing hadn¡¯t changed.

    Misty was still Misty.

    Weird. Terrifying. Capable of horrific murder.

    But still his cat.

    And that was somehow grounding.

    They walked in silence, the air thickening, the sense of wrongness deepening.

    Del¡¯s anger helped hold his nerves steady.

    ¡®I still don¡¯t know what the fuck a retired disabled office worker is doing fighting fucking skeletons in the crypt of some damn shrine in the middle of a bloody magical wood.¡¯

    The absurdity of it burned. The sheer stupidity of it.

    And yet, here he was. Sword in hand. Following a mutant cat into the unknowable dark.

    Misty¡¯s voice snapped through his mind, cutting through his thoughts like a blade.

    ¡®Stop your grousing, Del. We¡¯re here.¡¯

    His stomach dropped.

    They had reached the threshold of the next chamber.

    And the blackness beyond wasn¡¯t just darkness.

    It was alive.

    It shifted. Swirled.

    Like shadow misting through unseen currents.

    The pressure in the air didn¡¯t build this time.

    It simply was.

    A vast, heavy presence, sinking into their bones, daring them to step inside.

    Del swallowed hard.

    His grip on his sword was white-knuckled now.

    But there was no turning back.

    One last glance at Misty.

    One last deep breath.

    Then he stepped forward.

    And the darkness swallowed them whole.

 Chapter 69 â€“ A waiting presence

    A sharp chime cut through Del¡¯s head in the aftermath of battle.

    [Congratulations. You have killed 8 Skeleton Warriors Lv. 5. Experience gained.]

    [Congratulations. You have killed 5 Skeleton Swordsmen Lv. 6. Experience gained.]

    [Congratulations. You have enough experience to level up¡ªwould you like to level up now?]

    Del exhaled sharply, blinking sweat out of his eyes as he rolled his aching shoulders. His heart still pounded, his arms felt like lead, and the raw adrenaline of survival still flooded his veins.

    And now BB wanted a chat?

    ¡°Damnit, BB, can¡¯t you see we are kind of busy here? Bugger off.¡±

    A low huff beside him.

    Del turned, meeting Misty¡¯s golden-eyed stare. She wasn¡¯t even pretending to be subtle about it.

    He smirked. ¡®You as well, huh?¡¯

    The oversized feline snorted¡ªa noise that somehow managed to sound both dismissive and deeply unimpressed.

    ¡®Well, of course you got some kind of update system, too. How else could you level up?¡¯ He continued.

    ¡®How else could she pull off the insane acrobatics and sheer murder-cat bullshit shes been doing lately?¡¯ He asked himself.

    Del gave her a once-over. Her fur was slicked back, her muscles coiled and sharp, her claws still glinting wet with something that wasn¡¯t blood¡ªjust an odd, faint shimmer that pulsed under Elara¡¯s light.

    ¡®Or get mad crazy new skills,¡¯ he complimented her, wiping his blade against his torn sleeve.

    Misty didn¡¯t dignify that with a response, but her tail flicked sharply, slicing the air like a silent challenge.

    Yeah, she knew exactly what she was doing.

    Del flexed his fingers, still feeling the raw sting of where his grip had slipped mid-fight. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was sweat, exhaustion, or straight-up blood making his sword hilt feel slick.

    But none of that mattered.

    Not yet.

    He adjusted his stance, feeling the dull ache of bruises settling in. Despite the healing potion, his legs protested and his ribs throbbed¡ªbut he was still standing.

    And the job wasn¡¯t done.

    Not by a long shot.

    He met Misty¡¯s eyes again. ¡®Shall we?¡¯

    She didn¡¯t hesitate.

    A deep, rumbling growl rolled from her throat, rich with anticipation, and together, they stepped into the next chamber.

    Instantly, everything changed.

    The moment Del¡¯s foot crossed the threshold, the inky blackness peeled away, chased back by the glow from his hand.

    It was the same as before¡ªthe way the darkness refused to lift until he entered, as though the very space itself refused to be seen until it had to be.

    That wasn¡¯t natural, it wasn¡¯t just a lack of light.

    It was deliberate.

    A veil. A shroud. A waiting presence.

    The crypt stretched out before them, silent, still, and cold as a grave.

    Rows of stone sarcophagi filled the chamber, their lids scattered and broken, some cracked open as though violently forced apart.

    The walls loomed, carved niches lining the perimeter, each one holding urns of varying sizes. Some had intricate inscriptions, long faded to unreadable glyphs. Others bore deep gouges, as if something had scraped against the stone.

    Long-disused sconces sat empty, metal rusted and worn with time.

    Overhead, a crumbling candelabra hung from a single broken chain, swaying slightly, though there was no breeze.

    The air hit different.

    It wasn¡¯t just stale¡ªit was thick, pressing into his lungs, wrapping around him like an unseen weight.

    Cold. But not like a normal cold. Not the natural chill of deep stone corridors.

    This was something else. Something wrong.

    Like the air itself was leeching the warmth from their bodies.

    Del¡¯s stomach twisted.

    He wasn¡¯t a mage, but he knew cursed air when he breathed it.

    And then his gaze locked onto the thing waiting for them.

    At the far end of the chamber, beyond the ruined sarcophagi, a circle of intricate markings pulsed with a dim, red light.

    And inside it¡ª

    A figure.

    Tall. Too tall.

    Cloaked in a robe so black it seemed to drink the light, its hood drawn deep, swallowing everything but two smouldering points of red.

    Del stopped breathing.

    Misty froze beside him, her growl shifting into something lower, sharper, her tail whipping in agitation.

    The thing did not move.

    It stood, still as the grave, robe untouched by the air, the cold, or time itself.

    Del¡¯s fingers tightened on his sword hilt, sweat prickling his palms despite the biting chill.

    His instincts screamed not to move.

    Not because of fear¡ªbut because something about this felt wrong on a fundamental level.

    This wasn¡¯t just undead.

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    It was worse.

    Two things stood out immediately.

    The staff in its right hand¡ªlong, ancient, its twisted wood gnarled with veins of unnatural energy.

    The other, empty; but both, far too skinny.

    ¡®Skinny? You stupid fucktard. They are bones, Del¡¯

    No flesh. Not even decayed.

    Just bare bone.

    Long, skeletal fingers curled slightly, their surface engraved with sigils Del didn¡¯t recognise.

    Yet though they had just fought a mass of skeletons, this one, it just felt so much more

    He sensed Misty shift beside him, but she didn¡¯t make a sound.

    Just watched.

    Like a predator weighing another predator.

    ¡®Fuck, will you look at that face?¡¯

    There wasn¡¯t one.

    Nothing inside the hood except void¡ªand those two smouldering red eyes.

    Glowing.

    Burning.

    Staring directly at him.

    The skeletal figure remained still, but its presence crushed the space around it.

    Those twin red points of light beneath the heavy cowl bored into Del, pressing down with a weight that had nothing to do with gravity. It wasn¡¯t looking at him. It was pinning him.

    His grip tightened around the hilts of his weapons, sweat slicking his palms despite the unnatural cold suffocating the chamber.

    Beside him, Misty¡¯s growl turned low and guttural, her fur standing in thick, bristling waves. Her tail lashed behind her like a living whip, her claws clicking softly against the stone as she crouched, poised for pure violence.

    Not fear.

    Misty didn¡¯t do fear.

    But the tension in her rigid stance, the way her pupils contracted to slits, was unmistakable.

    This thing wasn¡¯t just dangerous.

    It was wrong.

    Then, the creature moved.

    Not a step. Not a sudden, jerking attack.

    Just the slightest shift of its hand, its skeletal fingers curling around the staff.

    The movement was too smooth, too deliberate¡ªas if time itself only bent to its will.

    When it spoke, its voice rasped like dry parchment tearing apart, brittle and ancient, hollow yet filled with something watching from behind the veil.

    ¡°You should not be here.¡±

    Del¡¯s pulse spiked, breath caught somewhere between panic and instinct.

    His mouth worked before his brain caught up.

    ¡°No shit, Sherlock.¡±

    The red light in its eyes flared, the empty black of its hood swallowing the glow, like twin embers sinking into a void.

    The circle beneath its feet pulsed, red lines of dark energy surging outward, stretching across the floor in a slow, spreading corruption.

    The crypt itself seemed to inhale, the air drawing tight as if the chamber was waiting to exhale death.

    The staff slammed down with a thunderous crack.

    The sound detonated through the chamber, a jagged shockwave ripping outward in a visible distortion of the air.

    Del barely managed to yank his arms up, shielding his face as the force smashed into him like an invisible sledgehammer.

    His boots scraped against the floor, nearly sending him sprawling as the raw pressure shoved him backward.

    Beside him, Misty let out a sharp, spitting hiss, claws scrambling for purchase as she slid back from the force, her fur rippling like a flame caught in the wind.

    It didn¡¯t give them time to recover.

    A spear of crimson light lashed toward Del, moving faster than an arrow, sharp as a whip crack.

    Too fast.

    He twisted instinctively, barely dodging in time, feeling the scalding heat kiss the air inches from his shoulder.

    The blast slammed into the wall behind him, carving a blackened scar into the stone, the impact hissing as if reality itself had burned away.

    Del exhaled sharply.

    ¡°Okay, then,¡± he muttered, shifting his stance. ¡°This just got serious.¡±

    He charged.

    Misty shot forward at his side, her claws tearing against the stone with razor precision, her growl turning into a feral snarl.

    The skeletal mage barely moved, its empty sockets flickering, like it was merely observing.

    Then, with a single flick of its free hand¡ª

    The floor erupted.

    Bone shards exploded from the ground, jagged fragments bursting up like spears, swirling into the air before snapping together into moving forms.

    Del skidded to a halt, his boots catching against the shifting stone as four figures lurched upright¡ªnot simple reanimated warriors, but something faster, sharper, more controlled.

    The first charged immediately, rusted curved blades flashing, its motions eerily fluid, as if directly controlled. So unlike undead in the previous room.

    Del barely had time to bring his sword up¡ª

    Clang!

    The impact shuddered through his arm, jarring down to the bone as he caught the attack, the edge of the blade sparking against his own.

    The skeleton didn¡¯t stagger or reel back¡ªit simply flowed into its next strike, moving like a whisper of motion.

    Del twisted his grip, pushing back hard, and drove the pommel of his sword into its jaw.

    The impact sent its skull whipping back, but the body didn¡¯t stop moving¡ªinstead, its bony fingers twitched, dropping the sword and reaching forward with clawed hands.

    Del barely yanked his head back before nails raked the air where his throat had been.

    Fuck. They were faster.

    Misty, meanwhile, tore into another.

    She hit from the side, her teeth sinking into its arm, cutting through bone like rotted wood.

    The skeleton let out a horrible screech, a sound like teeth scraping glass, but Misty didn¡¯t release.

    She wrenched violently, ripping the limb clean off, sending the ragged bones clattering across the floor before she spun, already on the next one.

    ¡°Good girl!¡± Del shouted.

    Mistake.

    The words barely left his lips when¡ª

    Cold fire raked across his side.

    The clawed hand struck before he could react, slicing through fabric, skin, and deep into flesh.

    Pain flared, ice cold and sharp, his body instinctively arching away, muscles seizing with the shock.

    Del gritted his teeth, breath hissing as the unmistakable warmth of blood began soaking through his shirt.

    Not deep. But not shallow enough to ignore.

    The attacker moved in again, its empty sockets burning with unnatural hunger, its fingers poised for another strike¡ª

    Del reacted on instinct.

    He dropped low, shifting his weight, and drove the hilt of his sword upward¡ª

    Crack.

    The impact was brutal.

    His weapon slammed into the skeleton¡¯s skull, splintering the bone in a shockwave of force.

    The thing jerked backward, red light flickering violently in its sockets¡ª

    Then it collapsed, bones crashing to the floor in a heap of dust and remnants.

    Del staggered back, breath coming short, his side throbbing with raw heat.

    No time to recover.

    A skeleton lunged at Del, its movements jerky and unnatural, yet disturbingly fast.

    And in its bony grip¡ªAnother bone.

    Wielded like a club.

    Del had exactly one second to process this absolute absurdity before the bone-weapon came swinging for his face.

    ¡°Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake¡ª¡±

    He ducked just in time, the swoosh of air brushing through his hair as the makeshift club whistled past his head.

    The skeleton had no wasted movement, no hesitation¡ªit just kept coming.

    A second swing arced low, aiming for his ribs.

    Del twisted, bringing his sword up¡ª

    Crack!

    The blade caught the bone mid-strike, absorbing the hit, but the force of the impact sent a shudder through his arm.

    What the hell?

    He¡¯d expected brittle bone, but this thing was dense, reinforced with dark magic, the impact jarring as hell.

    The skeleton pressed the attack, relentless in its barrage, its empty sockets blazing with cold fire.

    Del had no choice but to fall back, deflecting each swing with narrow, desperate parries.

    Each impact sent shockwaves up his arm.

    The bone was thicker than expected, heavier than it should be, and¡ª

    It was a femur.

    It was using someone¡¯s femur as a fucking war club.

    ¡°Misty!¡± Del snapped, dodging another swing.

    Across the battlefield, Misty let out a sharp hiss, slamming a different skeleton to the ground with a crushing swipe of her claws.

    ¡®Busy.¡¯

    ¡°Yeah, well, so am I!¡± Del snapped back, barely managing to lean away from the next attack.

    The leg bone smashed into the ground, hitting hard enough to crack the stone.

    Del¡¯s stomach tightened.

    One hit¡ªjust one direct hit¡ªand that thing was going to break something.

    ¡°Misty, seriously!¡±

    Another parry, another staggering blow shaking his stance.

    Misty¡¯s voice slithered through his thoughts, her tone dry as hell.

    ¡®Sounds like a you problem.¡¯

    ¡°Misty!¡±

    A pause.

    Then, sighing audibly in his head, she moved.

    A blur of motion, a streak of fur¡ª

    And then¡ª

    A snarling, ginger missile slammed into the skeleton¡¯s spine.

    The undead lurched forward, thrown off balance by the sheer force of impact.

    Del didn¡¯t hesitate.

    With the skeleton reeling, he dropped low, pivoted his stance¡ª

    And swung hard.

    His sword whipped upward, a clean, vicious arc, and¡ª

    Crack!

    The leg bone shattered in two, severed at the middle, fragments of enchanted femur clattering to the floor.

    The skeleton jerked, its grip suddenly empty, head snapping up in what almost looked like alarm.

    Del grinned, stepping in fast.

    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s what I thought.¡±

    He drove his blade forward, straight through its ribs, twisted the steel¡ª then ripped sideways splitting apart the spine

    The red glow in its sockets flickered, sputtered¡ª

    Then vanished.

    The skeleton crumbled, bones collapsing into a lifeless heap.

    Del exhaled sharply, shaking the numbness from his fingers.

    Misty was already gone, darting back to her own fight, her tail whipping in agitation.

    ¡®Try not to need saving again, Del¡¯

    Del snorted, wiping his blade on his torn sleeve.

    ¡°Not my fault it brought a club to a sword fight.¡±

    Misty¡¯s response was immediate.

    ¡®It brought a human leg bone.¡¯

    Del made a face.

    ¡°Yeah, well. That¡¯s worse.¡±

    Another was already coming.

    It¡¯s weapon raised.

    And the mage still hadn¡¯t moved.

 Chapter 70 â€“ Necromancer

    The next skeleton surged forward, its weapon already raised, a jagged, rusted cleaver clutched in its bony grip.

    Del barely had time to react¡ªhis side still burned from the last hit, his fingers ached from the endless parries¡ªbut there was no pause in this fight.

    No breath. No mercy.

    It came in fast, faster than the ones before, the cleaver whistling through the air in a deadly arc.

    Del twisted, bringing his sword up, barely catching the downward blow¡ª

    Clang!

    The impact shuddered through his arms, metal screaming against ancient, corroded steel. His knees buckled slightly, boots slipping on scattered bone fragments, but he grit his teeth and held his ground.

    The skeleton didn¡¯t hesitate. It pressed the attack, cleaver hacking down in relentless, brutal swings, forcing Del to stay on the defensive.

    Parry. Dodge. Block. Move.

    He was too slow on the next one¡ª

    The blade sliced through his sleeve, grazing his forearm with a burning kiss of pain.

    ¡°Son of a cock-sucking whore!¡±

    Del dropped low, shifting his weight onto his good leg, and drove his boot forward.

    The kick slammed into the skeleton¡¯s ribs, sending it staggering backward, the glow in its sockets flaring like an ember kicked in the wind.

    Misty was still locked in her own battle, claws and fangs ripping through bone, her tail lashing wildly as she twisted through the undead.

    ¡®Mind handling your own shit?¡¯

    ¡°Working on it!¡± Del shot back.

    The skeleton recovered too fast, already lunging back at him, cleaver raised for a finishing blow.

    Del saw an opening.

    He twisted his grip, stepped in close¡ª

    And drove the pommel of his sword straight up under its jaw.

    Crunch.

    The heavy hilt smashed through the skull, shattering ancient bone, the light in its sockets winking out as the creature collapsed in a heap of dust and ruin.

    The foul air shifted.

    A ripple of heat haze distortion shimmered from the other end of the crypt, folding reality in on itself.

    Del looked up¡ª

    The necromancer stood untouched, still within the glowing circle of runes, its skeletal hand moving in slow, deliberate gestures.

    It wasn¡¯t fighting.

    It was watching.

    Controlling.

    Directing.

    Del¡¯s breath hitched as his eyes caught something in the darkness just beyond the mage¡¯s shoulder.

    A figure.

    No, not a figure.

    A something? Ephemeral, translucent.

    A hollow-eyed spectre, its translucent form barely more than a whisper of shape, standing just behind the undead master.

    Del¡¯s blood went cold.

    It flickered¡ªvanished¡ªbut the chill it left behind sank deep into his bones.

    For a moment, his body refused to move.

    ¡®Del!¡¯

    Misty¡¯s voice slammed through his mind, sharp and urgent.

    Del snapped out of it just in time to see a massive bone club swinging toward his skull.

    ¡°Shit!¡±

    He threw himself backward, barely avoiding the skull-crushing blow, the club smashing into the floor, kicking up splinters of stone and dust.

    His foot caught on something, and suddenly¡ª

    He was falling.

    Back first. Hard.

    The impact knocked the air from his lungs, bone fragments digging into his back as he hit the ground.

    Before he could recover, the skeleton loomed over him, club raised for the finishing blow.

    ¡®Oh, not today, asshole¡ª!¡¯

    Misty¡¯s hulking form smashed into it from the side, her fangs burying deep into its exposed spine.

    She gripped it, pulling him down. The two of them rolling in a tangle of claws and bones, before she finally snapped its spine in half, sending the rest of its form crumbling into the dust.

    She turned, panting, ears flat, eyes burning gold.

    ¡®Seriously. Stop nearly dying.¡¯

    ¡°Trying!¡± Del wheezed, dragging himself back up to his feet.

    He didn¡¯t have time to thank her.

    The necromancer was acting again.

    The staff slammed down again.

    The circle ignited with energy and light; pulsing with twisting, jagged veins of red energy, slithering outward like living things.

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    Dark tendrils crawled across the floor, twisting and writhing, reaching out like grasping hands.

    One latched onto Del¡¯s ankle¡ª

    A white-hot pain shot up his leg.

    Cold. So cold.

    It ripped through muscle, locking his joints like iron chains, his entire limb numb in an instant.

    ¡°No, you don¡¯t!¡± he yelled as he slashed downward, severing the tendril.

    The moment the blade cut through it, the tendril dissipated into black smoke¡ª

    But the damage was done.

    His leg felt dead, like it had been dipped in ice water, the numbness spreading into his hip and lower spine.

    A feral snarl split the air.

    Misty launched herself at the necromancer, claws extended, aiming for its throat.

    For a split second, Del dared to hope¡ª

    And then¡ª

    The necromancer¡¯s bony hand flicked.

    The air shuddered.

    Misty was thrown backward, her body hitting the far wall with a sickening thud.

    She collapsed to the ground, her limbs twitching, her breath coming sharp and ragged.

    Del¡¯s heart seized.

    ¡°Get up, Misty!¡± he roared, panic clawing at his throat.

    She didn¡¯t respond.

    The red glow of the necromancer¡¯s eyes flared, locking onto Del.

    The staff rose, and the ground rumbled.

    Spears of bone erupted upward, jagged, lethal, a forest of death rising from the shattered crypt floor.

    Del had no choice.

    He threw himself onto a sarcophagus, barely avoiding the spikes that would have impaled him.

    His balance wavered¡ªhis leg barely responding¡ªbut he managed to stay upright, chest heaving.

    Then the necromancer laughed.

    Not a normal laugh.

    Not even a human laugh.

    A sound that echoed through the chamber, ancient, hollow, and beyond evil.

    It wasn¡¯t just amusement.

    It was mockery.

    It was the sound of something that knew it was going to win.

    Del gritted his teeth.

    No; not today.

    Pain screamed through his side, leg, and spine, but he moved anyway.

    With a desperate lunge, he hurled himself forward, ignoring the searing fire in his body, his blade coming down in a reckless, furious arc.

    Straight for the staff.

    The necromancer moved faster than he expected.

    Its skeletal hand snapped up, catching the sword mid-strike.

    Bone met steel with a thunderous clash, sparks flying as they locked in place, strength vs. strength.

    Del¡¯s muscles strained, his arms shaking.

    And in that moment¡ª

    Those twin red eyes burned into him.

    And the malice behind them was enough to drown the world.

    But Del didn¡¯t back down.

    He couldn¡¯t.

    He wouldn¡¯t.

    With a roar, Del twisted his weapon free and swung again, putting everything he had left into the strike.

    This time¡ªIt connected.

    The blade slammed into the staff, shattering it with an explosive crack, shards of blackened wood splintering outward, scattering across the stone floor like fragments of a dying star.

    The necromancer screamed.

    Not a human scream. Not even the hollow echo of the undead.

    This was something older, something furious, a sound of pure hatred and unravelling power, as if the very act of destroying its weapon had ripped apart the bindings of its existence.

    Its skeletal frame convulsed violently, the glow from the circle beneath its feet flickering, pulsing erratically¡ª

    It was breaking.

    ¡°Down!¡±

    A voice cut through the chaos, sharp, commanding.

    Del¡¯s head snapped toward the entrance.

    Elara.

    She stood at the threshold of the chamber, bow drawn, her body rigid with focus.

    Her eyes locked onto the staggering necromancer; her expression set in a way that left no room for failure.

    The arrow in her grasp glowed, pulsing with a deep, unearthly magic, its tip humming with raw power.

    No hesitation.

    Del threw himself down, landing hard against the cold stone, feeling the reverberations of the circle¡¯s dying energy pulse through his ribs.

    Elara released.

    The arrow streaked through the air, cutting through the crypt¡¯s gloom like a meteor burning across the night.

    It struck home.

    The impact slammed into the necromancer¡¯s chest, sending it reeling backward, its bony arms jerking wildly, the remnants of its dark robes flaring in some final, desperate attempt to resist.

    Too late.

    It stumbled out of the circle.

    And the world shattered.

    The stone beneath the circle cracked, deep fractures spiderwebbing outward, glowing crimson as though something beneath the surface was rupturing.

    For a moment, the necromancer jerked violently, caught between existence and oblivion, the malicious light in its sockets flickering wildly.

    Then¡ªthe circle flared one final time¡­ and died.

    The energy collapsed inward, swallowing itself in a sudden void of silence.

    The remaining skeletons crumbled as though their strings had been cut, collapsing into lifeless heaps of bone and dust, their connection to the unholy force severed.

    The necromancer itself fell, its ruined form hitting the ground in a heap of blackened fabric and brittle remains, its robes pooling around it like spilled ink.

    The twin lights in its skull faded to nothing.

    Del staggered backward, his breath coming in ragged gasps, every muscle in his body screaming in exhaustion.

    The fight was over.

    The crypt¡ªsilent.

    No more unnatural whispers. No more shifting shadows.

    Just stillness.

    A familiar warmth pressed against his mind.

    Del glanced across as Misty limped toward him, her movements slow but steady, her body still wound tight with tension.

    He dropped to one knee, wincing as his ribs protested the movement, but it didn¡¯t matter. He needed to check on her.

    His fingers found her fur, warm and real beneath his touch.

    ¡°You did good, girl,¡± he murmured, his voice hoarse, but relieved.

    Misty exhaled through her nose, then nuzzled his hand, grounding him in the simple fact that they were both still breathing.

    As he watched, her form began to shrink, her massive battle-ready shape fading back into her normal, compact cuteness.

    Her expression, however, remained the same.

    She wasn¡¯t happy.

    ¡®Next time, kill the bastard faster.¡¯

    Del huffed a weak laugh.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±

    Elara stepped further into the chamber, her bow still in hand, her gaze locked on the necromancer¡¯s remains.

    Her fingers tightened around her weapon as she studied the lifeless heap, her voice wary.

    ¡°Is it dead?¡±

    Del followed her gaze.

    The broken staff.

    The cracked ritual circle.

    The motionless pile of robes.

    It had to be. But still¡ªhe didn¡¯t look away.

    ¡°It better be,¡± he muttered, but he didn¡¯t relax.

    Not yet. The chill in the air was fading, but Del had learned not to trust the quiet. Not in places like this.

    The stillness didn¡¯t last long.

    A familiar chime echoed in his mind, breaking through the remains of the tension.

    [Congratulations. You have killed Skeleton Necromancer Lv. 9; Experience gained.]

    [Congratulations. You have advanced your primary cuvat: Points added.]

    [Congratulations. You have advanced your secondary cuvat: Points added.]

    Del let out a long breath, rubbing at the back of his head.

    ¡®Damn, I don¡¯t want to do that again in a hurry.¡¯

    Misty, now curled up licking the singed patches on her fur, shot him a look.

    ¡®One that, I very much agreed with you.¡¯

    Elara knelt beside him, studying the ruined battlefield.

    Del looked up. ¡°Where¡¯s Naomi?¡±

    Elara¡¯s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of concern.

    ¡°Sat on the stairs where I left her.¡± A pause. ¡°I hope.¡±

    Without another word, she turned and hurried back toward the entrance to check on the girl.

    Del exhaled slowly and turned his focus to the remnants of the fight.

    It was time to loot the mess of bones that had tried to kill him.

    Most of it was junk.

    No rings. No gold. No useful weapons¡ªthe staff was shattered beyond repair. Just dust and brittle remains.

    Then¡ªSomething odd.

    As Del sifted through the necromancer¡¯s tattered remains, his fingers brushed against something that hummed with unnatural energy.

    A skull.

    The necromancer¡¯s skull.

    The moment he touched it, a faint ripple of magic pulsed outward.

    Different from the dark, unholy energy from before.

    This was something else.

    Something left behind.

    Del frowned, wrapping it in torn cloth from the necromancer¡¯s robes before tucking it into his bag.

    He had no idea what it was.

    But he was damn sure it was important.

    Climbing back up to the main chamber, Del took in the subtle changes.

    The space had been cleaned up¡ªdebris pushed aside, broken pieces of the statue reverently placed in the pool basin.

    Even the air felt different.

    No longer thick with corruption, no longer tainted by the presence of undeath.

    Instead, the ambient mana had shifted.

    Lighter. Purer.

    The shrine wasn¡¯t fully restored¡ªbut it was healing.

    Elara stood near the statue, fingers brushing the worn stone, her eyes bright with quiet joy.

    ¡°When I find a temple,¡± she murmured, ¡°I will let them know of this shrine so it can be repaired and rededicated.¡±

    Del nodded. He didn¡¯t need to see mana to feel the difference.

    Then, after a moment¡ª

    ¡°You know, Misty and I probably owe you our lives,¡± Del said, rubbing his sore ribs. ¡°Where did you learn that arrow thing?¡±

    Elara turned, her smile radiant.

    ¡°The place may be broken,¡± she said, ¡°but it is still of Myrrith.¡±

    Her fingers brushed the statue again.

    ¡°She knew my need.¡±

    A breath.

    ¡°And gave me the ability.¡±

    She met his gaze, eyes alight with quiet awe.

    ¡°Nature¡¯s Wrath.¡±

    It would only work against things of pure evil she told him.

    It had worked today.

    Del grinned, stepping forward and pulling her into a fierce hug.

    Naomi squeezed in too.

    ¡°Just let her know I said thanks.¡± He said.

 Chapter 71 â€“ Bribery works

    Del dragged a weary hand down his face, wiping grime and sweat onto his already filthy sleeve. The battle¡¯s echoes lingered in his bones, muscles still twitching from exertion, bruises blooming beneath his armour like flowers of dull pain. The air in the crypt was finally quiet, though not peaceful¡ªnot yet. A lingering unease hummed through the chamber, like a silent aftershock of everything they¡¯d just endured.

    Taking a moment to steady himself, Del limped carefully towards the empty pool at the centre of the shrine. His numb leg dragged slightly with each step, still tingling unpleasantly from the necromancer¡¯s foul magic, yet strength gradually returned to his muscles as he moved. The silence was broken only by the soft shuffle of Elara¡¯s boots against the stone as she wandered toward the statue of Myrrith, eyes heavy with contemplation.

    Crouching by the plinth, Del examined it more closely. Near the stone base, beneath layers of accumulated grime, sat an old drainage hole. Curious, he knelt down, brushing aside dirt and fragments of shattered stone to reveal tarnished metal beneath. Although the statue¡¯s arms were broken, severed brutally at the joints, he spotted something else hidden beneath the ruin¡ªpipes, thin veins of tarnished metal winding discreetly into the stonework.

    ¡°I think this was once a fountain,¡± he said aloud, more to himself than anyone else, running fingers along the exposed piping. The metal felt rough beneath his fingertips, covered with years of accumulated dirt and thick, blackened residue. He frowned, clearing away a bit more debris to reveal the lines disappearing down beneath the plinth.

    ¡°A fountain?¡± Elara asked, raising her head with interest from where she¡¯d settled, seated on a low chunk of debris. She stood up slowly, shaking off her own fatigue and moving closer, curiosity sharpening her gaze. She crouched beside him, studying the piping and the statue with renewed fascination. ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    He nodded, tracing his finger around the drainage hole in the stone basin. ¡°Pretty sure. See? There¡¯s a line here, must¡¯ve been for draining. It would¡¯ve drawn water from somewhere underground, I reckon. Maybe an underground spring or something.¡±

    Elara tilted her head, leaning in closer to inspect the dirt-caked metal. Her fingers hovered hesitantly over it, as if she could sense the lingering mana woven into the ancient plumbing. ¡°If that¡¯s true, the spring could still be active beneath us.¡± Her eyes gleamed, excitement breaking through her exhaustion. ¡°Imagine what that could mean¡ªa source like this, saturated with nature-affinity mana. Certain potions, elixirs¡­ their potency would be remarkable.¡±

    ¡°Nice,¡± Del replied, a tired but genuine grin tugging at his mouth as he pushed himself upright again. ¡°Something useful out of all this mess.¡± He stretched his back, bones clicking softly in protest. ¡°Why don¡¯t you and Naomi start clearing out some debris? I¡¯ll see what I can do about checking out this plumbing¡ªmaybe see if we can get it running again.¡±

    Elara straightened with him, arching a delicate brow, her lips quirking into a faint, teasing smile. ¡°Just don¡¯t break anything.¡±

    Del chuckled, nudging away some loose fragments of stone with his boot. ¡°No promises.¡±

    ¡®Master plumber, am I now?¡¯ he asked himself wryly. ¡®Who the hell am I kidding?¡¯

    ¡®Certainly not yourself, you dumb bastard,¡¯ his alter-ego shot back, mercilessly accurate.

    Misty, stretched languidly on the rim of the empty basin, regarded them both with a deeply unimpressed expression. Her fur was sleek once more, the violence of her earlier transformation faded back into deceptive calmness. Golden eyes narrowed, watching Del with a mix of lazy amusement and feline scepticism.

    ¡®Water?¡¯ Her thoughts drifted lazily through his mind, radiating distaste. Her tail flicked once, sharply, a visual punctuation of her disdain.

    Del pointed at her accusingly, though his voice held more affection than irritation. ¡°You could help too, you know. Don¡¯t just sit there supervising.¡±

    Misty¡¯s tail flicked again, more sharply, and she responded with a tiny mew that dripped contempt, deliberately turning her head away from him.

    Elara laughed softly, a sound that brought warmth back into the chilled air of the desecrated shrine. Her blonde hair caught the light as she swept it back, the strands glinting gold amidst the shadows. ¡°I think you¡¯ll have to earn her cooperation.¡±

    Del snorted, his exhaustion easing slightly under the gentle teasing. ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± he said dryly, crossing his arms over his chest as he glowered playfully at the cat. ¡°Because that¡¯s worked so well in the past.¡±

    Misty merely blinked slowly, the smug flick of her tail speaking volumes.

    ¡°Bribery works better,¡± Elara suggested, bending down slightly to scratch Misty behind the ears, exactly where she liked it. From somewhere in the depths of her cloak, the elf produced a morsel of bacon. The cat perked up immediately, abandoning all pretence of aloofness, purring and rubbing enthusiastically against Elara¡¯s fingers.

    Del sighed dramatically, shaking his head. ¡°And you complain about me spoiling her.¡±

    ¡°Who said I was complaining?¡± Elara teased gently. ¡°She¡¯s earned it.¡±

    Misty purred louder, eyeing Del sidelong as she enjoyed the snack, clearly delighted by her successful manipulation.

    Del rolled his eyes affectionately, returning his attention to the ancient fountain. Kneeling back down, he began clearing away more debris, fingertips scraping against stone that hadn¡¯t felt sunlight in generations. His hands were soon filthy, nails crusted with muck, but the steady rhythm of work helped calm his frayed nerves, grounding him in the present.

    After a moment of companionable silence, Elara spoke softly again, her voice reflective. ¡°I wonder what happened here. Myrrith¡¯s shrines are rarely abandoned¡ªcertainly not like this.¡±

    Del paused, glancing up at the fractured statue, at its face worn smooth by time, and sighed heavily. ¡°Whatever happened, it wasn¡¯t gentle. And we can¡¯t know if the necromancer was the cause, or came after and made use of the abandoned space.¡±

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    Elara met his gaze, expression thoughtful, tinged with a quiet sorrow. ¡°No. But we¡¯re here now, and whatever darkness lingered... it¡¯s gone. Maybe this place can be healed.¡±

    Del nodded his own quiet resolve hardening. ¡°Then let¡¯s do our best to make sure it stays that way.¡±

    Misty, finishing her bacon, sat back with a satisfied air and promptly resumed supervising, golden eyes reflecting faint amusement.

    ¡®Try not to cock it up, Del,¡¯ her voice murmured into his mind, tone thick with mockery. ¡®Or at least wait until Elara can¡¯t see.¡¯

    He snorted softly, hiding a smile.

    ¡®Oh, piss off.¡¯

    Del turned his attention back to the plinth, the ache of battle gradually receding into a dull background pulse. The strange mix of adrenaline, relief, and exhaustion filled him, leaving his body feeling simultaneously hollowed out and oddly weightless. He took a slow, calming breath and focused on the task before him.

    The fountain mechanism intrigued him. There was potential here¡ªif he could just coax it back to life, even briefly, it might be worth the effort. Del knelt beside the stone plinth again, brushing carefully around the tarnished metal piping, following its curve downward. A drainage hole sat near the base, clogged with years of leaves, moss, and dirt, barely visible beneath the grime of ages.

    Behind him, Elara and Naomi began slowly clearing away debris from the floor, their quiet movements accompanied by gentle murmurs and soft laughter. The familiar sound of Naomi¡¯s giggles eased the tension that still lingered around them, while the occasional drip of water from the ceiling kept a gentle, rhythmic tempo¡ªa soothing counterpart to the raw, lingering memory of battle.

    ¡°Do you think followers of Myrrith used this place often?¡± Del asked, as much to fill the comfortable silence as anything else, his voice echoing softly in the vast chamber.

    Elara paused in her efforts, considering the question. ¡°They might have,¡± she replied thoughtfully. ¡°Shrines like this often hosted rituals of renewal and cleansing. A fountain drawing mana-rich water would have been an important focal point.¡±

    Del nodded absently, tracing his fingers along the edge of the stone plinth. ¡°If there¡¯s any chance it still works, it might be worth the effort to restore it.¡±

    His fingers brushed across a small irregularity, hidden beneath layers of dirt¡ªa faint depression, too symmetrical to be accidental. Curiosity pricked at him, and he pressed experimentally against the indentation. There was a faint, barely audible click.

    He froze. ¡°Did you hear that?¡±

    Elara stopped mid-motion, ears twitching slightly. ¡°Hear what?¡±

    ¡°Not sure. But¡ª¡± He pressed a little harder, and a hidden compartment at the base of the plinth slid open with a soft grinding sound. Del raised an eyebrow, lips curving in surprised amusement. ¡°Well, hello.¡±

    ¡°What did you find?¡± Elara asked, setting down a chunk of rubble and quickly coming to crouch beside him.

    ¡°Looks like some kind of control panel,¡± Del murmured, brushing the dust gently aside to reveal intricate runes carved into the stone, pulsing faintly with a gentle, verdant glow. ¡°It seems to be intact¡ªthough how long it¡¯s been since anyone used it, who knows.¡±

    Elara leaned closer, curiosity lighting her eyes as she examined the runes. ¡°Be careful, Del. Mana circuits this old can be unpredictable.¡±

    ¡°Careful¡¯s my middle name,¡± he joked softly, drawing a sceptical glance from the elf. ¡°Mostly.¡±

    Elara shook her head with a smile, straightening and returning to the task of clearing debris with Naomi. ¡°I¡¯ll believe that when I see it.¡±

    ¡®Master of subtlety and finesse,¡¯ he thought sarcastically, earning a snort from his other self. ¡®Sure, Del, keep telling yourself that.¡¯

    Ignoring his own mocking doubts, Del peered into the opening, examining the intricacy of ancient craftsmanship within. The mechanism was impressive, a delicate interplay of carved stone, metalwork, and subtle threads of dormant nature magic woven through every piece. Beneath it, barely visible, was a small reservoir¡ªwater still pooled, undisturbed save for tiny bubbles drifting slowly upward.

    ¡°I can see water down here,¡± Del called back to Elara, peering deeper into the darkness. ¡°It looks clean enough, and it¡¯s flowing¡ªslowly, mind you, but flowing nonetheless.¡±

    He frowned thoughtfully, then shook his head. ¡®Better stop and think this through properly before I fuck something up irreparably.¡¯ He pulled out his thinnest knife, a stiletto whose delicate blade gleamed in the dim light. He couldn¡¯t help the brief tightening of his stomach at the memory of Lucas¡ªpoor bastard¡ªbut quickly pushed the thought aside. Using careful, precise motions, he began to scrape away years of accumulated debris from around the drainage hole.

    A thought struck him. ¡°Naomi?¡± he called softly, gesturing her over, she had been entertaining herself playing with Misty.

    Naomi trotted to his side eagerly, eyes brightening with anticipation. ¡°Yes?¡±

    Del knelt to her eye-level, smiling gently. ¡°I have a very, very important job for you.¡±

    She straightened excitedly. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to fix Myrrith¡¯s fountain as best I can, but I need your help. I need you to clear out all the leaves and dirt from the pool¡ªmake it clean enough that Myrrith would be proud. Think you can do that?¡±

    Naomi¡¯s expression broke into a delighted grin, her enthusiasm clear. ¡°Sure, then can I play with Misty again

    From somewhere near Elara, Misty released a disgruntled little mew of protest. The cat stretched pointedly, shot Del an accusing look, then moved a few feet away and curled up in a convenient patch of sunlight filtering through a crack in the roof.

    Del chuckled softly, watching Naomi dart off eagerly to begin clearing leaves and dirt from the stone basin. ¡®She¡¯s definitely loving playing with you, Misty.¡¯

    ¡®She¡¯s bloody relentless,¡¯ Misty muttered in return, settling in for a determined nap.

    ¡®You love it, really,¡¯ Del teased, turning his attention back to the panel.

    With careful precision, Del began scraping away decades of accumulated debris from the drainage hole, each careful movement bringing clearer definition to the ancient fountain¡¯s workings. After a short while, the drain looked clear enough to test. Pulling his waterskin from his belt, Del poured a thin stream down into the hole, leaning closer to peer through the opened compartment. His heart lifted as he watched the liquid flow freely through the system below, cascading into unseen channels beneath.

    Satisfied, Del leaned back slightly. His muscles, aching from earlier exertions, protested mildly, but he ignored the discomfort. Now wasn¡¯t the time to rest.

    ¡®Now I just need to figure out how to tourn the damn thing on,¡¯ He thought.

    He glanced around, feeling a sudden, irrational need for reassurance. ¡®BB, Teach, Menolly You listening? Any pointers?¡¯

    Nothing.

    ¡®How about you, Myrrith? It¡¯s your shrine, can you tell me how to start it up?¡¯

    ¡®

    No response came, though a faint whispering breeze teased the edge of his senses¡ªa distant laugh, too soft to be certain. Del shook his head ruefully, closing the access panel carefully.

    ¡°You figure anything out?¡± Elara asked, glancing back as she carefully moved another fragment of debris.

    ¡°Think so,¡± Del replied cautiously. ¡°Mechanism looks good, and water¡¯s flowing. Getting it properly functional, though... that¡¯ll take more work.¡±

    He stood slowly, brushing grime from his hands and stretching his aching back. Misty cracked open one golden eye briefly before pointedly resuming her nap, unimpressed by his accomplishment.

    Del shook his head fondly. ¡®Lazy moggy.¡¯

    Nearby, Naomi enthusiastically cleared dirt and small stones from the dried up pool, utterly absorbed in her task. Her hands were dirty, her face streaked with grime¡ªbut her expression shone brightly with genuine joy.

    Del watched her quietly, his chest tightening with something warm and fierce.

    ¡®Worth it,¡¯ he thought firmly, feeling the remnants of his tension melt away, replaced by determination. ¡®Definitely worth it.¡¯

 Chapter 72 â€“ Water fight

    Elara turned slowly, her expression shifting rapidly from idle curiosity to quiet awe as a gentle pulse of mana swept outward, rippling softly through the chamber like a sigh of relief from the shrine itself. It was subtle yet undeniably potent, felt rather than seen¡ªa warmth brushing delicately against skin, fingertips, and hearts alike.

    For a brief moment, Myrrith¡¯s statue seemed to awaken; a faint, ethereal glow emanated softly from the tarnished stone, illuminating delicate fractures and casting gentle shadows that danced silently across the walls. The quiet radiance lingered just long enough to bathe the broken goddess in a soft luminescence before gently fading, leaving behind only a sense of peace and the lingering taste of renewal in the air.

    Then, as quickly as it had come, the magic ebbed, and the statue returned to lifeless stone.

    Before any of them could speak, the fountain gave an abrupt splutter and cough, like lungs drawing breath after centuries of disuse. It shuddered, groaned reluctantly, and then with a tremulous gurgle, water began to flow. Thin, uneven streams trickled from the fractured arms, splashing chaotically into the basin below.

    Naomi caught unprepared, yelped and hopped quickly from the basin, shaking cold droplets from her fingers. ¡°Cold!¡± she gasped, wrapping her arms around herself, though her grin was wide and radiant.

    Elara¡¯s voice came as a whisper filled with wonder, her eyes shining softly in the fading glow. ¡°It works.¡±

    Del exhaled, relief mingling with weary satisfaction as he wiped sweat from his brow. ¡°Sort of,¡± he agreed quietly, regarding the uneven streams. ¡°Not exactly the majestic display it probably used to be, but hey¡ªprogress.¡±

    Misty stretched, arching her back elegantly before padding toward the fountain, her steps cautious yet undeniably intrigued. She sniffed at the basin¡¯s edge, whiskers twitching inquisitively as she peered down at the gently rippling water. With careful deliberation, she extended a paw and dipped it into the basin, only to immediately recoil, shaking it sharply and scattering droplets in all directions.

    ¡°Cold, isn¡¯t it, Misty?¡± Naomi confirmed again with a bright giggle, leaning closer with playful mischief sparkling in her eyes.

    Misty shot the girl a disdainful glance, tail flicking sharply¡ªbut, seemingly encouraged by Naomi¡¯s amusement, she immediately plunged her paw back into the water, splashing more vigorously this time. Droplets sprayed upward, catching the dim sunlight and sparkling like tiny jewels as they scattered around the laughing child.

    Naomi squealed, shielding her face with her hands. ¡°Misty!¡±

    The cat¡¯s golden eyes narrowed mischievously, and, as if delighted by Naomi¡¯s reaction, Misty splashed again, deliberately flicking more water toward her.

    ¡°Oh, you little beast!¡± Naomi giggled, responding in kind by gently slapping the surface of the basin, sending a spray of water towards Misty, who danced nimbly backwards, tail flicking with mock indignation.

    Del raised an eyebrow, trying¡ªand failing¡ªto look stern. ¡°Seriously, Misty?¡±

    Elara chuckled softly beside him, shaking her head fondly at the playful exchange. ¡°She¡¯s enjoying herself. Let her be.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Del muttered, rolling his eyes in mock resignation, though the reluctant grin tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement.

    Naomi determined not to be outdone, cupped her hands in the cold water and splashed gently at Misty again, her laughter bright and infectious as the cat gracefully dodged the attack, flicking droplets with a haughty, triumphant look.

    Del leaned back, watching the playful skirmish unfold, feeling a genuine warmth settle within him¡ªa gentle affirmation that, despite everything, they were still here, still capable of joy amidst the chaos.

    They fell into a steady rhythm of gentle restoration. Hours slipped by quietly, punctuated by Elara¡¯s occasional humming and Naomi¡¯s playful laughter. They worked methodically, clearing debris from the shrine¡¯s worn stone floors, scraping away thick layers of grime from the ancient walls, and gathering fragments of the broken statue reverently in neat piles for future restoration.

    Misty contributed too, in her own distinctly feline way¡ªdarting energetically after any leaf or bit of rubble moved by the others, or sprawling lazily across freshly cleaned patches of stone, claiming them for herself.

    Yet as the shrine gradually regained a semblance of order, Del¡¯s thoughts drifted inevitably to the crypt below, to the scattered bones lying abandoned on the cold stone floor, their unnatural animation forcibly stripped away by the necromancer¡¯s demise.

    Those bones had once belonged to living, breathing people, he reminded himself, a wave of quiet melancholy washing over him. They deserved more dignity than to be left scattered in the darkness, discarded remnants of someone¡¯s malicious intent.

    Feeling the weight of responsibility settle firmly upon his shoulders, Del quietly descended the staircase, each careful step echoing softly as he left behind the gentle peace of the shrine. The air grew cooler, heavier, tinged with the lingering scent of old stone and battle¡ªa stark contrast to the renewed warmth above.

    Entering the crypt chamber once more, Del paused, allowing his eyes to adjust fully to the dim, shadowy light. Fragments of bone lay scattered, some half-hidden in pools of darkness, others clearly visible, stark against the ancient stonework. The memory of violence lingered here, palpable and bitter, like an ache in the bones themselves.

    With careful reverence, Del began his solemn task. His movements were deliberate, gentle even, as he knelt beside each collection of scattered remains. Brittle bones felt almost weightless in his hands, strangely fragile despite their earlier menace. He gathered skulls with cracked jaws and empty eye sockets, long femurs and ribs splintered from combat, and smaller bones whose purpose he could only guess.

    He moved slowly around the chamber, steadily bringing each scattered fragment toward the far end of the crypt. His quiet footsteps echoed softly, the gentle, rhythmic clink of bone against bone filling the silent space like a muted chorus.

    There was something meditative about the simple task¡ªa quiet dignity in giving peace back to these remains, stolen from rest by dark magic. Gradually, a pile took shape in the centre of the crypt chamber. Del stacked each piece carefully, shaping them into a neat, respectful monument, reminiscent of images he¡¯d once seen of ancient catacombs.

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    Though he had no way of knowing which skull belonged to which body, the act itself felt profoundly important, as though he were silently acknowledging each individual¡¯s stolen humanity. Time slipped quietly away as he worked, until finally, with a soft exhale, he placed the last bone atop the careful arrangement.

    Del stood back, brushing dust and dirt from his palms. His muscles ached softly, but the heaviness he¡¯d felt earlier had somehow lifted, replaced with a quiet sense of fulfilment. The crypt, still shadowy, now seemed less oppressive¡ªmore peaceful, even. He regarded the neat pile of bones with quiet respect, silently hoping it would grant those restless spirits a final, gentle release.

    Only then, his task completed, did Del finally turn back toward the stairs. As he climbed back up to the shrine above, the air seemed lighter, fresher, as though the act of quiet restoration below had subtly healed some invisible wound within the shrine itself.

    As he stepped into the main chamber once more, Elara glanced up from her task. Her eyes softened knowingly as she took in his expression, recognising the solemn calm that had settled over him. She didn¡¯t speak; instead, she simply nodded, quiet understanding passing silently between them.

    After another pause, Del sighed, rolling his stiff shoulders. ¡°Feels good, you know?¡± he murmured softly. ¡°Fixing something, instead of just surviving.¡±

    Elara nodded, brushing her blonde hair away from her eyes. She leaned against the edge of the plinth, a small smile touching her lips. ¡°It¡¯s amazing what a little effort can do,¡± she said gently.

    Del gave a tired chuckle, stretching again to ease the deep-set ache in his muscles. ¡°Yeah. Nice change, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Her gaze flicked briefly toward the statue, eyes thoughtful. ¡°Do you think she¡¯s watching us right now?¡±

    He hesitated for just a moment, glancing at the battered visage of Myrrith. There was something quietly expectant in the air, something gentle yet watchful, reassuring rather than intrusive. Del nodded slowly.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± he murmured softly. ¡°Yeah, I think she might be.¡±

    ¡®Thank you, Myrrith,¡¯ he thought, sending the quiet gratitude out into the ether.

    And somewhere, at the very edge of perception, he could almost swear he heard a faint, distant laugh¡ªwarm, affectionate, and approving.

    Misty hopped gracefully onto the rim of the pool, her golden eyes narrowed slightly as she peered down into the gently rippling water. For a moment, she seemed unusually thoughtful, almost reverent, her whiskers twitching gently as if sensing something beneath the surface. Her tail flicked once, twice, in a slow rhythm, matching the ripple of water below, as if acknowledging the mana that now filled the shrine with soft, steady warmth.

    Then, with a sudden, violent shake of her head, she sneezed loudly¡ªbreaking the tranquil moment entirely.

    Del chuckled, shaking his head with affectionate exasperation. ¡°Thanks for that, Misty,¡± he said wryly as the cat hopped down with casual dignity, padding off across the floor as if nothing had happened.

    Elara covered her mouth to stifle her laughter, her shoulders shaking gently as she watched Misty vanish into a patch of sunlight, already searching for another comfortable spot. The shrine echoed briefly with the gentle sound of her laughter, a clear, musical note ringing softly through the chamber.

    As the laughter faded, Elara began quietly gathering supplies from their packs, preparing to make dinner. Her movements were careful and efficient, but she hummed softly to herself as she worked¡ªa soothing melody that filled the silence without overwhelming it. The scent of herbs soon drifted into the air, promising something warm and comforting after the rigours of their day.

    Del settled himself heavily on the edge of the stone pool, grateful to finally let his aching muscles rest. Fatigue tugged at his limbs, but it was a pleasant kind of tiredness¡ªearned and satisfying. He took a slow breath, turning his attention inward, summoning his status notices with quiet anticipation.

    Levels. And thank the gods for that¡ªafter the punishing ordeal they¡¯d just survived, it felt damn well earned.

    ¡®We need to get stronger,¡¯ he thought, glancing toward Misty, who lifted her head and regarded him steadily, eyes shining with quiet agreement.

    The battles had been difficult, testing limits he hadn¡¯t even known existed, and the gains he¡¯d earned reflected it. The simple numerical rewards were comforting, a tangible sign that the relentless struggle hadn¡¯t been in vain.

    Del sighed quietly, feeling tension drain from his shoulders as he sat on the edge of the now-flowing fountain. He stretched briefly, easing out the ache in his muscles, then glanced around the chamber thoughtfully. Despite its lingering damage, the shrine now felt undeniably peaceful, its silent presence a balm after the day¡¯s chaos.

    Nearby, Misty settled comfortably onto a freshly cleared patch of stone, stretching languidly, clearly deciding that it was high time for a nap. Del rolled his eyes affectionately but smiled all the same.

    ¡®Lazy moggy,¡¯ he thought fondly.

    ¡®Jealousy suits you poorly, Del,¡¯ Misty shot back, flicking her tail dismissively.

    Del huffed out another quiet laugh, shaking his head as he turned back to consider his notifications again.

    With the weight of immediate danger finally lifted, the chamber around them quiet save for Elara¡¯s soft humming and the gentle trickle of water, the world no longer felt quite so oppressive.

    For the first time in what felt like far too long, Del felt genuinely hopeful.

    He allowed himself a small smile, leaning back against the stone basin and closing his eyes briefly, relishing the quiet moment.

    It was a good start.

    Name: Del Axholm

    Level: 9

    Path: Archer

    Health: 66

    Strength: 22

    Dexterity: 20

    Stamina: 21

    Intelligence: 15

    Wisdom: 13

    Mana: 67

    Spirit: 58

    Agility: 29

    Presence: 10

    Animal Companion: Misty; feline

    Skills:

    Archery lvl 3 ¨C Able to use all manner of handheld bows and crossbows

    Woodcraft lvl 3 ¨C Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.

    Tracking lvl 2 ¨C Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.

    Traps lvl 1 ¨C Can make basic snares and pit traps.

    Sneak lvl 3 ¨C Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.

    Herbalism lvl 2 ¨C Can identify and gather basic herbs.

    Skinning lvl 3 ¨C Can manage to roughly skin a carcass.

    Leadership lvl 1 - Able to command small groups of up to 20.

    Attacks:

    Bow lvl 3 ¨C Simple Shot.

    Sword lvl 7 ¨C Cut, thrust.

    Dagger lvl 4 ¨C Stab, Slash.

    Special Attacks:

    Bow:

    Sneak attack lvl 1 ¨C Doubles damage

    Master Archer lvl 1 ¨C Cost 1 Stamina: Increased damage and chance of critical hit.

    Dagger:

    Backstab lvl 2 ¨C Double damage.

    Two Handed Melee lvl 3 ¨C Two weapon fighting, twice the fun.

    Name: Misty

    Level: 10

    Path: Feline Companion

    Health: 62

    Strength: 16

    Dexterity: 22

    Stamina: 19

    Intelligence: 12

    Wisdom: 6

    Mana: 60

    Spirit: 15

    Agility: 32

    Presence: 20

    Skills:

    Charm lvl 4 ¨C Can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.

    Transform lvl 1 ¨C Can assume Hellcat form, Strength, Dexterity and Health Double for 15 minutes, These values halved for 30 minutes after effect ends.

    Attacks:

    Claw lvl 7 ¨C Attack with front claws.

    Rake lvl 5 ¨C Double rear leg attack.

    Bite lvl 5 ¨C It¡¯s teeth all the way

    Special Attacks:

    Pounce lvl 7 ¨C Can be used with any or all of the standard attacks. Double damage, with a small chance to cause the target to stumble.

    Sneak Pounce lvl 3 ¨C As above; Triple damage.

 Chapter 73 â€“ A day to rest

    The decision to spend the following day resting came easily enough; tired bodies, aching muscles, and frayed nerves were poor companions for hiking. Morning sunlight filtered softly through the damaged shrine roof, cascading gently down the crumbling walls, catching flecks of drifting dust and making them glitter like lazy motes of gold. After yesterday¡¯s struggle, the tranquil quiet of the chamber was a balm, a reprieve that Del welcomed wholeheartedly.

    He stood near the fountain, watching Misty with quiet amusement. The cat stretched luxuriously in a pool of sun, her ginger fur glowing warmly as if ignited by the soft, golden rays. With the tension from yesterday¡¯s battle fully drained away, she seemed to have reverted entirely to the mischievous feline companion he knew and adored.

    ¡®Comfortable?¡¯ Del asked her drily, folding his arms across his chest with exaggerated sternness.

    ¡®Thoroughly,¡¯ Misty replied, arching her back with exaggerated slowness before sprawling further out in the sunlight. ¡®I earned it.¡¯

    Del chuckled softly. ¡®That you did. I¡¯ve got to admit¡ªyou really showed your stuff back there. You''re one hell of a hunter.¡¯

    Misty''s golden eyes narrowed slightly in amusement. ¡®I am. Unlike some, I know exactly what I¡¯m doing.¡¯ She stretched again, her paws flexing lazily. ¡®You, however, need significantly more training.¡¯

    ¡®Hey,¡¯ Del protested lightly, though the corner of his mouth twitched in reluctant amusement. ¡®That¡¯s unfair, Misty.¡¯

    ¡®Perhaps,¡¯ she agreed with a casual flick of her tail, ¡®but entirely true.¡¯

    Shaking his head at the lounging cat, Del decided it was pointless to argue further; Misty had clearly won this round. A faint chuckle escaped him as he turned away, glancing across the shrine¡¯s interior. Naomi had settled into a patch of light near the far wall, her eyes closed, her breathing steady and calm. A soft glow of mana radiated gently around her body like an ethereal halo¡ªshe¡¯d clearly gone ¡®flying,¡¯ as she called it, projecting herself astrally to who knew where. Her expression was serene, peaceful, and utterly content.

    Del watched her silently for a moment, feeling a quiet pang of protective affection tighten his chest. To see her so carefree, so confident in her growing abilities, filled him with warmth. Whatever hardships awaited, seeing her like this made them seem manageable¡ªalmost trivial.

    He turned to find Elara seated on the edge of the restored fountain, her feet dangling idly above the gently rippling water. Her gaze was distant, thoughtful, yet her face held a serenity that had been missing in recent days. Even amidst the ruin around them, something in this space spoke clearly to her.

    Del wandered over slowly, sitting down beside her with a tired sigh, letting his muscles relax for what felt like the first time in days. They sat in companionable silence for several moments, the quiet only broken by the gentle trickle of water from the repaired fountain and the occasional faint rustling as Misty adjusted her position.

    ¡°She¡¯s getting better at that,¡± Del finally said softly, gesturing toward Naomi¡¯s recumbent form.

    Elara glanced toward the child and nodded slowly. A small, affectionate smile touched her lips. ¡°Mmm. Every day she grows stronger. Her mana control is improving far faster than I expected.¡±

    Del shifted slightly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he watched Naomi. Her face, framed by tousled hair and bathed in gentle sunlight, looked peaceful and content in her meditative state, though a faint twitch of her lips suggested that wherever she was ¡®flying¡¯ to, it was enjoyable.

    ¡°You don¡¯t think she¡¯s rushing things, do you?¡± he asked quietly, voicing a lingering worry he hadn''t realised he''d been holding onto.

    Elara seemed to consider the question carefully, her fingers idly tracing gentle patterns on the stone beside her. Eventually, she shook her head, a gentle certainty settling into her eyes. ¡°No, Del. I see a child exploring new powers, testing boundaries and finding joy in discovery. Naomi has a curious, open heart, and she¡¯s learning her gift as children always do¡ªwith wonder, with excitement.¡± Her voice softened further, filling with gentle pride. ¡°In time, she will grow into a truly powerful oracle. That much, I can sense clearly.¡±

    Del nodded slowly, reassured by Elara¡¯s steady conviction. Her words echoed comfortingly, chasing away the last remnants of his doubt. He glanced around again, absorbing the calm, gentle warmth the shrine now seemed to radiate. The morning sunlight and subtle mana interplay filled the space, mending invisible wounds in the chamber as much as in their own hearts. Yet even with this newfound serenity, Del felt compelled to ask one more thing¡ªsomething he''d been hesitant to voice until now.

    ¡°And how about you?¡± he ventured gently, meeting her gaze carefully. ¡°This must all be very raw¡ªto see the shrine of your own goddess in such disrepair.¡±

    Elara¡¯s expression softened further, becoming quietly introspective. Her green eyes reflected a depth of feeling that went beyond simple sadness or loss; instead, patient wisdom shone there, tempered by her understanding of greater truths.

    ¡°Yes and no, Del,¡± she said finally, her voice gentle but firm. ¡°Myrrith is the goddess of nature¡ªbut also of balance. Life and death, growth and decay¡ªshe embodies all of it. While seeing her shrine like this saddens me, balance dictates that nothing remains forever in ruin. Or, forever whole. This is simply another cycle, one we have already begun to set right by cleansing the corruption.¡±

    Del absorbed this thoughtfully, recognising the truth in her words. Nature, he supposed, was always about balance¡ªa constant cycle; renewal from loss, growth from decay. And then from life to death and back to decay.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    As if sensing his thoughts, Elara smiled gently again. ¡°Perhaps one of the stories of Myrrith would help you better understand who she is?¡±

    Del settled himself more comfortably beside her, nodding quietly. ¡°I¡¯d like that. The more I learn about this place¡ªthis land¡ªthe more I feel it might actually be home.¡±

    Elara¡¯s smile widened slightly, her eyes warming further at his admission. ¡°Then perhaps a story is exactly what we need.¡± She glanced affectionately towards Naomi, still immersed in her projection, and Misty, now curled lazily in a patch of sunlight. ¡°When they¡¯re both ready to listen, of course.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure Naomi would be eager,¡± Del replied with a gentle chuckle, noticing the slight twitch of the child¡¯s smile, even in her trance-like state.

    Elara laughed softly, her voice blending naturally with the gentle trickle of the water beneath her feet. ¡°In the meantime, we can simply rest and enjoy a brief moment of peace.¡±

    Del exhaled slowly, settling himself comfortably beside her. ¡°Peace,¡± he echoed quietly, testing the word as though it was something foreign, something precious. ¡°I could get used to that.¡±

    Time passed in quiet contentment, sunlight shifting slowly across the shrine chamber, pooling in warm patches on the worn stone. Naomi eventually stirred from her astral journey, blinking her eyes open with a slightly dazed, blissful smile as though waking from a pleasant dream. She stretched carefully, flexing her fingers as tiny sparks of mana danced briefly across her fingertips before dissolving into the stillness of the chamber.

    ¡°Good flight?¡± Del asked her gently, unable to keep the fond amusement from his voice.

    Naomi nodded enthusiastically, brushing loose strands of hair away from her face, eyes sparkling with residual excitement. ¡°Very good! I went higher and further than before. I saw so many colours and felt so many different things¡ªlike the mana was talking to me.¡±

    Elara chuckled softly. ¡°And was the mana kind?¡±

    Naomi nodded enthusiastically, bouncing up to sit cross-legged nearby, her face animated. ¡°Oh yes! It was warm and soft, like it was happy to see me again. Like the way Misty sometimes purrs when she¡¯s asleep.¡±

    Misty lifted her head briefly from her sunny spot, eyeing Naomi with a mix of bemusement and feline dignity. ¡®I most certainly do not purr in my sleep.¡¯

    Del hid a grin, gently elbowing Elara. ¡°She says mana reminds her of Misty¡¯s sleepy purring.¡±

    The elf laughed softly, glancing warmly at Misty, who pointedly yawned, stretched dramatically, and then resumed her lazy, sunlit repose with an air of quiet superiority.

    Naomi crawled carefully toward Misty, her smile gentle but mischievous as she stroked the cat¡¯s soft fur, earning herself a half-hearted glare that quickly melted into resigned contentment. Del shook his head affectionately, exchanging a knowing look with Elara.

    ¡°She¡¯s good for Misty,¡± Elara murmured quietly, voice soft with approval.

    ¡°True,¡± Del agreed. ¡°Though Misty might never openly admit it.¡±

    He watched as Naomi playfully poked at Misty¡¯s paws, earning an indignant flick of the cat¡¯s tail that quickly dissolved into begrudging tolerance. The sight made Del¡¯s chest tighten gently. After everything they¡¯d endured recently, moments like this¡ªsmall, quiet, ordinary¡ªseemed immeasurably precious.

    As the peaceful silence settled again, Elara rose gracefully from the pool¡¯s edge, moving toward their packs. She began unpacking small cooking utensils, dried herbs, and carefully wrapped provisions. She hummed softly under her breath, a quiet melody that echoed gently off the chamber¡¯s old stone walls, subtly enhancing the calm of the moment.

    Watching her work, Del felt a curious sense of domesticity. Elara¡¯s gentle efficiency, Naomi¡¯s carefree laughter, and Misty¡¯s lazy indulgence¡ªall these pieces fit together effortlessly, forming something that felt a lot like home.

    ¡®Home,¡¯ he reflected quietly, the word unfamiliar but welcome, filling him with unexpected warmth. ¡®I¡¯m not sure I even know where or what that is anymore.¡¯

    Elara paused for a moment, glancing at him over her shoulder with a soft smile, as though she sensed the shift in his mood. ¡°Something on your mind?¡±

    Del smiled faintly. ¡°Just thinking this is the calmest we¡¯ve been for a while. Feels good.¡±

    ¡°It does,¡± she agreed quietly, setting aside a small bundle of herbs. ¡°Perhaps Myrrith¡¯s influence. Balance being restored. Even in ruin, her shrine still has a kind of grace.¡±

    Del nodded, his gaze drifting thoughtfully to the statue¡¯s broken figure. Despite its damage, the statue stood proudly, bathed in soft sunlight, vines curling gently around the plinth, nature adding its own decoration to what was hers.

    He opened his mouth to ask a question, but Naomi¡¯s sudden squeal of laughter cut him off abruptly. Misty had apparently reached the limits of patience, retaliating to the girl¡¯s teasing by gently batting Naomi¡¯s hand away and shaking droplets of water onto her. Naomi squealed again, half delight, half protest, and soon cat and child dissolved into another playful skirmish by the fountain edge.

    Del laughed softly, shaking his head. ¡°Seems they¡¯re both feeling better.¡±

    Elara¡¯s eyes shone with gentle amusement. ¡°And that¡¯s all that matters, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°I suppose it is,¡± Del agreed, smiling fondly.

    Silence returned again, punctuated by occasional giggles and splashes from Naomi and Misty¡¯s antics. Del eventually rose and began tidying their gear, methodically arranging packs and supplies for when they moved on. The routine felt comforting, grounding him firmly in this quiet, peaceful moment.

    As evening began to creep softly into the chamber, bringing cooler air and lengthening shadows, Elara finally set their meal aside, ready to be cooked. She glanced thoughtfully towards Naomi and Misty, now curled together in companionable exhaustion, a peaceful heap of ginger fur and messy hair.

    ¡°Del?¡± Elara asked softly, voice warm and contemplative. ¡°Earlier I mentioned telling you a tale about Myrrith. Do you still wish to hear it?¡±

    He turned to face her, intrigued by the soft note of eagerness beneath her calm tone. ¡°Definitely. I think we¡¯d all like that.¡± He glanced meaningfully toward Naomi, who opened one eye immediately, curiosity overcoming even her fatigue.

    ¡°Yes, please!¡± Naomi chimed instantly, perking up with renewed enthusiasm. Misty opened both eyes, shooting Naomi a look that Del recognised immediately as the feline equivalent of a resigned sigh.

    ¡®Stories now, is it?¡¯ Misty remarked dryly. ¡®As long as it¡¯s quick, and dinner follows soon after.¡¯

    Del laughed aloud at Misty¡¯s comment, drawing curious looks from both Naomi and Elara.

    ¡°Misty¡¯s only interested if food is involved afterward,¡± Del explained dryly, earning a mischievous smile from Naomi and a knowing look from Elara.

    ¡°Well, I promise dinner will follow soon enough,¡± Elara said gently, arranging herself comfortably by the fountain. ¡°But first, let me tell you a tale of Myrrith¡ªa story of balance, loss, and renewal.¡±

    Naomi eagerly scrambled to her side, while Misty settled herself again, ears pricked forward in cautious curiosity. Del relaxed back, stretching briefly and allowing himself to simply listen.

    Elara¡¯s voice lifted gently, melodic and warm, filling the air like the delicate music of birdsong. ¡°Long ago, in the days of ancient Gondowa, there existed a kingdom named Varynith¡­¡±

    As her words began to weave their gentle magic around the chamber, Del felt himself pulled deeper into the soft, comforting embrace of the shrine¡¯s atmosphere. Anticipation fluttered softly in his chest, knowing instinctively that this tale would linger, shaping their understanding of this place¡ªand perhaps each other¡ªforever.

 Chapter 74 â€“ Myrrith

    Elara¡¯s voice flowed gently through the shrine, resonant and melodic, transforming effortlessly into the vessel for the ancient tale she wove. The air seemed to ripple subtly with her words, each syllable resonating with mana, carrying a subtle power that swept Del, Naomi, and even Misty into its gentle embrace.

    ¡°In the ancient days of Gondowa, when empires rose and fell like the endless tides, there existed a kingdom known as Varynith. Its king, Tharion the Ravenous, was a man consumed by ambition. His armies swept mercilessly across the land, stripping entire forests to fuel his war machines, enslaving druids to twist nature¡¯s own gifts into tools of conquest. Yet, among all his triumphs and dominions, one place defied him¡ªElarion Grove, a sanctuary blessed and guarded fiercely by Myrrith herself, goddess of balance and nature.¡±

    As Elara¡¯s words washed over them, Del felt reality subtly shift. He saw glimpses of a distant past forming vividly in his mind, the ancient land slowly rising from spoken legend into vibrant life.

    ¡°Elarion Grove was said to be Myrrith¡¯s own heart, made manifest upon the mortal plane¡ªa living, breathing embodiment of harmony and vitality. Towering oaks whispered their ancient wisdom, roots sinking deep and intertwining with streams whose waters ran crystal-clear and pure. Mana pulsed through the very air, wild and vital, woven delicately into every leaf and flower. Druids spoke reverently of glimpsing Myrrith herself among the shaded glades, her graceful antlers entwined with flowering ivy, each touch of her fingertips coaxing new blossoms into spirited life. For generations, Elarion had stood as an unyielding beacon, untouched by the greed of mortal men.¡±

    The shrine chamber around Del seemed to shimmer and dissolve, replaced by an ethereal landscape. He could feel soft earth beneath his feet, hear the rustling leaves, and taste the sweet scent of flowers carried on the air. Naomi¡¯s eyes widened, reflecting pure awe, and Misty¡¯s ears perked forward intently, fur rippling subtly as though sensing unseen presences around them.

    ¡°But to Tharion, Elarion Grove was nothing more than another resource, an untapped well of mana-rich soil and valuable ancient timber. His hunger was boundless, his greed insatiable. He decreed that no grove, however sacred, could deny him his prize. Thus, he dispatched his armies¡ªa host of ten thousand warriors clad in steel armour that gleamed like frost beneath a cruel winter sun, hearts hardened by years of conquest, ready to bend nature to their will.¡±

    As Elara¡¯s voice deepened with quiet dread, Del heard clearly the distant echo of marching boots and the faint ringing of metal. His heartbeat quickened; Naomi shifted uneasily, and Misty¡¯s fur bristled slightly, sensing a threat she could neither see nor understand.

    ¡°As Tharion¡¯s army marched ever closer, the druids of Elarion gathered beneath their most sacred tree¡ªthe Moonstone Oak, whose silver bark shimmered softly beneath the starlight, its vast canopy stretching wide enough to cradle the very heavens themselves. Together, the druids raised their voices to Myrrith, their prayers rising like the whispering of countless leaves upon the wind: ¡®Myrrith, Keeper of Balance, hear us,¡¯ they pleaded desperately. ¡®The blades of men come to sever our roots. Will you forsake us in our darkest hour?¡¯¡±

    Del felt the profound urgency of their prayers, an ache in his chest, a yearning for salvation mirrored in Naomi¡¯s wide, frightened eyes and the quiet tension in Misty¡¯s stiffened stance.

    ¡°For days, silence was their only answer. The druids, fearing abandonment, prepared to make a final, hopeless stand. Yet, as dawn broke on the day of Tharion¡¯s attack, the very air of the grove thickened with expectation. The leaves stirred gently, whispering an ancient word that no mortal tongue could pronounce. Beneath their feet, the ground trembled softly, saturated with latent, primal power.¡±

    Del felt a stirring in his own core, mana humming gently beneath his skin, connecting him profoundly to Elara¡¯s tale. Naomi glanced nervously around, clearly feeling something similar, while Misty¡¯s eyes narrowed in wary anticipation.

    ¡°Finally, the army arrived at the edge of the sacred grove, banners snapping proudly in the chill breeze. General Kaelor, Tharion¡¯s most feared commander, surveyed the serene beauty of the ancient woodland with contempt. ¡®Burn it,¡¯ he commanded harshly, his voice sharp as tempered steel. ¡®Cut out its heart. Let this place bleed so our kingdom may thrive.¡¯ His soldiers advanced, torches blazing in their hands. Yet, as they crossed beneath the first towering trees, the grove itself seemed to shudder. Birds fell utterly silent, sunlight dimmed as though unwilling to bear witness, and shadows thickened unnaturally beneath the trees. The scent of wildflowers twisted abruptly, replaced by something older, darker¡ªpetrichor and ancient earth, foreboding a storm.¡±

    Del¡¯s chest tightened painfully; fear and sorrow surged within him, echoed vividly in Naomi¡¯s quickened breath and wide, fearful eyes. Misty hissed softly, tail lashing in agitation as though feeling the trees¡¯ collective anguish.

    ¡°Then, she appeared. From the grove¡¯s heart stepped a figure both ethereal and resolute: Myrrith herself. Her slender form radiated quiet strength, antlers glowing faintly, adorned with ivy and blossoms perpetually cycling between blooming life and gentle decay. Her eyes, green as new leaves, held profound sorrow, their gaze heavy with centuries of witness. ¡®You tread where no mortal should,¡¯ she spoke softly, yet her voice carried clearly, weighted by eternity. ¡®Leave now, and I shall forgive this trespass. Persist, and you shall find no mercy within these woods.¡¯¡±

    Naomi¡¯s small hand reached instinctively for Del¡¯s, squeezing tightly. He barely noticed, caught entirely in Myrrith¡¯s sorrowful gaze, his heart aching in sympathy.

    Kaelor sneered dismissively. ¡®You are but superstition given form. Stand aside, or fall alongside your trees.¡¯ With brutal finality, he raised his sword, signalling the advance. Soldiers roared, torches blazing brighter as they charged forward.

    Yet the grove answered immediately. Beneath their feet, the earth erupted in fury, vines as thick as a man¡¯s arm bursting forth to ensnare their limbs. Trees groaned and creaked, twisting branches reaching out, plucking weapons and helmets from soldiers like an enraged woodland god. Yet the soldiers fought fiercely, hacking savagely at the attacking vines, their blades gleaming unnaturally sharp, torches setting the underbrush ablaze. Elarion Grove screamed in pain, its harmony shattering beneath the cruel assault of fire and steel.¡±

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    Del spun involuntarily, feeling as if he were standing in the heart of battle. Flames crackled sharply in his ears, choking smoke filled his lungs, the agony of the ancient trees felt painfully real. Naomi gasped softly, burying her face briefly into his side, overwhelmed. Misty bristled fiercely, ears flattened against the imagined chaos, claws digging restlessly into the stone beneath her paws.

    As Elara¡¯s voice softened, pausing momentarily, Del felt the vision gently release its hold, reality around him returning slowly, the shrine still and quiet once more, though his heart still hammered in his chest.

    He drew a ragged breath, seeing clearly how deeply Naomi and Misty had been affected by Elara¡¯s vivid tale. And though silence had reclaimed the shrine, he sensed clearly that the story was far from over.

    ¡°Myrrith stood at the grove''s edge, her sorrow deepening as she witnessed the flames consuming her beloved sanctuary,¡± Elara continued, her voice hushed yet resonant, like the gentle rustle of leaves in mourning. ¡°For countless centuries, she had watched over balance, fostering life, never taking it. But as the fires spread, tearing through the ancient trees, her sorrow hardened into resolve.¡±

    Del felt his throat tighten with shared sorrow, Naomi leaning instinctively into him. Misty sat rigidly, her golden eyes narrowed as though witnessing the scene unfold before her.

    Elara¡¯s voice lowered further, almost reverent. ¡°Myrrith knelt, pressing her hands softly to the earth. Her voice was a whisper, gentle but resolute: ¡®I have warned you. Now, you shall become what you sought to destroy.¡¯¡±

    As Elara spoke, the shrine seemed to grow stiller, holding its breath. Naomi shivered, gripping Del¡¯s sleeve tightly, while Misty¡¯s ears flattened slightly, her fur ruffling subtly as though touched by invisible currents of powerful magic.

    ¡°A ripple spread outward from Myrrith¡¯s fingertips, passing through the soil, the air, the trees themselves. The soldiers halted abruptly, expressions shifting from cruel determination to sudden uncertainty as the very earth beneath their feet became unstable, treacherous. Their breaths stilled, caught in the heavy air, torches flickering and dying in an unnatural, emerald-tinged darkness. Panic began to spread, sharp cries piercing the unnatural silence.¡±

    Naomi shivered, clutching Del¡¯s arm tighter, while Misty hissed softly, ears pressed tight to her head in sympathetic unease.

    ¡°The transformation came swiftly,¡± Elara breathed, eyes distant. ¡°Kaelor shouted commands, but the words died on his lips as roots surged upwards, wrapping tightly around legs and torsos. Armour groaned, shifting, reshaping¡ªmelding into bodies as flesh hardened into bark. The anguished cries of men faded to rustling whispers as their forms twisted into trees, limbs reaching skyward in silent supplication or leaning inward as if begging forgiveness.¡±

    Del¡¯s pulse quickened, a shiver running down his spine as the imagery filled his senses. Naomi clung tighter, shivering softly, her breathing uneven as she imagined the soldiers¡¯ transformation. Misty mewled quietly, sensing the dread emanating from the tale.

    ¡°The transformation swept through Tharion¡¯s forces like wildfire. Where an army once stood, a dense, silent forest arose, its twisted, gnarled forms eternally locked in expressions of sorrow, regret, and plea. A silent monument to hubris and the sacredness of balance.¡±

    Elara¡¯s voice softened, carrying the solemn weight of history. ¡°Word spread rapidly of Tharion¡¯s defeat and the terrible fate of his forces. In his fear, the king declared Elarion Grove cursed, forbidding entry and marking its borders with warnings. The druids took up this legend as a solemn lesson: Balance must be respected, lest nature herself rise to reclaim it.¡±

    Elara paused, allowing the last echoes of her words to linger in the air, gentle but profound. A tranquil stillness settled around them, almost tangible, as if the shrine itself were silently acknowledging the power of the story just told.

    Del blinked slowly, realising his cheeks were damp with tears. He brushed them away self-consciously, noticing Naomi similarly rubbing moisture from her eyes, her expression solemn and awestruck. Even Misty, now subdued, seemed reflective, tail curled tightly around herself, golden eyes wide and thoughtful.

    The quiet moment was broken softly by Naomi, who whispered in quiet awe, ¡°I saw it. I really saw it¡ªI felt the pain of the grove, and then Myrrith... she was there.¡±

    Del nodded slowly, his voice quiet, deeply thoughtful. ¡°Me too. It felt like... more than just words, Elara. What just happened?¡±

    Elara lifted her gaze slowly to the damaged statue. Her eyes shone softly with gentle reverence, and she sighed quietly, almost to herself. ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know, Del. Perhaps it was our connection to her, amplified by the shrine¡¯s presence. Perhaps it was Myrrith herself, guiding us to truly understand the depth of her power and compassion.¡±

    Misty rose silently, padding quietly across the shrine floor to flop down gracefully beside Del, her tail flicking gently. She fixed him with a knowing, steady gaze.

    ¡®She was here,¡¯ the feline confirmed simply. ¡®You felt it too. Her mana was everywhere.¡¯

    Del nodded, exhaling softly, feeling oddly humbled by the experience. Silence enveloped them for another gentle moment, a peaceful stillness as each absorbed what had just occurred.

    Finally, Misty shifted restlessly beside Del, breaking the thoughtful quiet. ¡®Enough now,¡¯ she said, injecting a lighter note into the atmosphere. ¡®Can we go hunt? Perhaps this time I can finally teach you how it¡¯s done properly.¡¯

    Del let out an abrupt laugh, drawing surprised glances from Elara and Naomi.

    ¡°What did she say?¡± Naomi asked eagerly, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

    He grinned, shaking his head affectionately. ¡°Apparently, Misty believes my hunting skills need significant improvement. She insists she can teach me a thing or two.¡±

    Elara chuckled softly, amused at the cat¡¯s blunt appraisal. ¡°She might not be entirely wrong, you know.¡±

    Naomi perked up excitedly. ¡°Oh! When I was flying, I saw some dinkus not far away¡ªmaybe half a mile up the hill?¡±

    Del smiled warmly at Naomi¡¯s enthusiasm, reaching out to ruffle her hair affectionately. ¡°Excellent job. What do you say, Misty?¡±

    The feline stood elegantly, stretching lazily, eyes gleaming with anticipation. ¡®Suitable. Come along, Del. We hunt.¡¯

    Del laughed again, rising to his feet and gathering his bow, quiver, and gear. He strapped his sword securely at his side, ensuring the skinning knife was snugly placed. A quick check confirmed his waterskin was filled. He felt lighter, clearer somehow, buoyed by the legend¡¯s message of balance, and the strange, comforting sense of Myrrith¡¯s fleeting presence.

    He glanced back at Elara and Naomi, both watching him with quiet smiles of encouragement. He could feel their silent trust, their connection forged by everything they''d faced together¡ªand by the experiences yet to come.

    ¡°Right then, Misty,¡± Del said softly, adjusting his quiver with a contented sigh. ¡°Lead the way. Time to hunt.¡±

    Misty flicked her tail, padding regally toward the exit of the shrine, glancing briefly over her shoulder.

    ¡®Finally,¡¯ she purred warmly. ¡®Try to keep up this time.¡¯

    Laughing softly, Del followed the cat out into the daylight, ready to embrace whatever new adventures lay ahead, feeling truly, deeply at peace.

 Chapter 75 â€“ The hunt

    The late afternoon sun cast long shadows as Del and Misty stepped beyond the threshold of the building, their hunting trip finally underway. The air carried the scent of damp earth and crushed foliage, mingling with the distant murmur of running water somewhere down in the valley. A light breeze stirred the undergrowth, rustling through leaves and carrying the occasional burst of birdsong.

    A small, dark-feathered bird flitted between the branches of a nearby tree, its rapid, chittering call sharp against the more distant warbles of others deeper in the valley. It looked similar to a blackbird, though its tail was a little longer and its head slightly more angular. Del wasn¡¯t much of a bird expert, but he could at least tell it wasn¡¯t quite the same as those who used to come to his feeder. Another darted from the undergrowth, startling a scattering of tiny winged insects into the air. They caught the sunlight as they spiralled upward, their delicate bodies glinting like copper. Something that looked very much like a dragonfly hovered briefly before flicking away, its wings shimmering in iridescent greens and blues.

    Del was enjoying just being. A part of the natural environment around and about him. It was refreshing and a salve after the past couple of weeks since he arrived in this strange land.

    ¡°So, a nice bit of fresh venison tonight sound good to you?¡± Del asked, keeping his voice light.

    ¡®I get the liver,¡¯ Misty informed him with an air of absolute certainty.

    Stepping carefully over a fallen branch, Del gave a knowing nod.

    ¡°I find deer liver too rich for me. I prefer lamb.¡±

    The memory of a steaming homemade hotpot surfaced unbidden¡ªmutton slow-cooked with onions and root vegetables; its deep flavour enhanced by the iron tang of lamb¡¯s liver. His stomach tightened with longing, but the nostalgic indulgence was abruptly cut short by Misty¡¯s unimpressed snort.

    ¡®It¡¯s a dinkus,¡¯ she corrected with a flick of her tail, ¡®or did you not pay attention to the kitten?¡¯

    Del huffed a small laugh. ¡°Forgive me, oh wise and powerful teacher.¡±

    Misty stopped dead in her tracks, plonked herself down in the grass, and fixed him with the kind of look only a cat could manage¡ªone that conveyed exasperation, amusement, and judgment all at once. Then, as if making a point, she began washing her paw with slow deliberation.

    Smirking, Del held up both hands in surrender. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m sorry, lass.¡± He crouched and ran a hand over the top of her head, scratching just the way she liked best. ¡°Am I forgiven?¡±

    Another long stare. Then, with a flick of her tail, she stood, sauntering off towards the next cluster of trees.

    ¡®Come,¡¯ was her only response.

    The landscape here felt oddly familiar, reminding Del of the English countryside. The rougher terrain of the upper valley had given way to rolling hills, the land stretched out before them in undulating waves of green. Broad meadows sprawled between thickly clustered copses of trees, their branches casting dappled light across the soft grass below.

    Wildflowers dotted the fields in splashes of delicate colour, their petals swaying gently with each shift of the wind. Del recognised a few of them¡ªblue, bell-shaped blooms that looked similar to harebells, tiny yellow ones clustered low to the ground. Others were entirely unfamiliar, their colours more vivid than seemed natural, some appearing almost luminescent in the shade of the trees.

    A few paces ahead, a small brown bird with a long tail pecked at the ground, its head tilting side to side as if assessing whether Del and Misty were a threat. The moment he stepped closer, it let out a sharp, rattling chirp and shot into the underbrush.

    Feldspar was still the most common plant he spotted, but as they moved further down the valley, other useful flora revealed themselves. Near a narrow tributary stream, his gaze landed on a thick patch of velvety green moss clinging to the damp rocks. Not recognising it he decided it was worth investigating.

    ¡®Identify¡¯

    Dewberry Moss: Medicinal Plant. Grows in damp caves and near running water and waterfalls. Apply to burns and stings for near-instant relief and rapid skin regeneration.

    Satisfied, he carefully harvested a few handfuls, tucking them into his pouch alongside a fresh bundle of silverbloom.

    A movement to his right caught his eye¡ªsomething fluttering low over the grass. He turned just in time to see a large butterfly settle onto a broad green leaf. It was roughly the size of his palm, its wings a deep russet red, speckled with a pattern of inky black dots. It reminded him of something he had once seen in a humid butterfly house years before.

    Misty followed his gaze. ¡®Hunting butterflies now?¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯m just looking,¡± he muttered. ¡°That one looks almost like something back home.¡±

    She twitched her tail dismissively. ¡®Useless. Pretty, but useless.¡¯

    Del huffed a small laugh. He patted his pouch. ¡°They may be but I¡¯m becoming quite the plant collector, those are useful,¡± he remarked.

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    ¡®They can¡¯t run away when you hunt them,¡¯ Misty mused, the flick of her whiskers betraying her amusement.

    Del sighed, shaking his head. ¡®Bloody cat really doesn¡¯t think much of me as a hunter.¡¯

    Their progress through the valley was slow but steady, meandering in the direction Naomi had described. The wind carried the rustling of leaves and the occasional distant trill of a bird. It was peaceful, almost lulling¡ªuntil Misty came to an abrupt halt.

    She stood beside a thick tussock of grass, her ears pricked forward, waiting.

    Del eyed her warily. ¡°What?¡±

    Misty said nothing. Instead, she flicked her gaze from him to the ground near her feet, then back again.

    ¡®Why does this remind me of my damn driving test?¡¯ He frowned, crouching down for a closer look.

    ¡®No, mate, it¡¯s worse. In a driving test, they at least tell you what to do next.¡¯

    Misty remained perfectly still; her golden eyes trained on him with patient expectancy. No clues. No hints. Just quiet, unwavering judgement.

    Suppressing a sigh, Del examined the area near her paws, brushing his fingers lightly over the grass. Nothing seemed particularly unusual. Just ordinary blades of¡ª

    He paused.

    The stems were bent, snapped at uneven angles. The damage wasn¡¯t natural. And there, clinging faintly to the air was something¡­ off. A scent he couldn¡¯t quite place.

    He straightened slightly, looking at her. ¡°I can see the broken stems, but I don¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡®Smell them,¡¯ Misty instructed, her tail flicking.

    Del frowned. ¡°Hey, not fair! My nose isn¡¯t like yours.¡±

    ¡®Then train it better. Or get better at looking.¡¯

    Grinding his teeth, he crouched again and focused harder. To him, it just smelled like grass, damp earth, and¡ªwait. There it was. A faint, musky scent lingering around the broken stems. It wasn¡¯t strong, but now that he¡¯d caught it, he recognised it as something animal.

    ¡°You has a big advantage being down low all the time,¡± he muttered under his breath.

    Misty¡¯s ears twitched.

    ¡®Talk like me. Prey is close.¡¯

    His fingers curled around the strap of his bow, carefully unslinging it. He exhaled slowly. ¡®Alright, Misty, which way?¡¯

    ¡®Follow. Stay quiet.¡¯

    Del had noticed it before¡ªwhen Misty entered hunting mode, her words became fewer, clipped and efficient. She was shifting gears now. The hunt had begun.

    He fell in step behind her, keeping low. Ahead, a small stand of scraggly trees waited, their sparse canopy offering only meagre cover. Misty flowed forward with effortless grace, her paws making no sound on the soft earth.

    Del did his best to emulate her silence. He was getting better at it. But he still wasn¡¯t a cat.

    He wasn¡¯t nearly as silent as Misty, and she made sure he knew it. Every few paces, she cast a glance back¡ªeach one a wordless rebuke that needed no translation. He grimaced but pressed on, keeping his footfalls as light as possible.

    The undergrowth thinned as they approached the edge of the tree line, the dense cover giving way to a more open expanse. Beyond a sparse row of shrubs, an open field stretched out before them, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. The sky had begun its slow shift towards twilight, a deeper blue creeping in at the horizon, streaked with wisps of dusky cloud.

    A small group of dinkus grazed in the long grass, their sturdy, deer-like bodies half-hidden by the swaying blades. They moved with slow, unhurried motions, tails flicking idly, ears twitching at the faintest disturbances. Their short, curved horns caught the amber glow of the fading sunlight, giving them an almost gilded appearance. Del instinctively slowed his breathing, watching them.

    Misty halted beside him, her body low, tail held perfectly still.

    ¡®Watch them,¡¯ she instructed in a hushed tone. ¡®See¡ªthe one with its head up, sniffing the air?¡¯

    Del narrowed his eyes, scanning the herd. Most of them were focused on feeding, but one stood apart, head lifted, its nostrils flaring as it tasted the wind. Even from here, he could see the tension in its posture, the way its muscles remained coiled beneath its dappled hide, ready to spring into motion at the first sign of danger. A sentry¡ªkeeping guard.

    He gave a small nod, unwilling to make a sound, even in his thoughts, lest it somehow disturb the delicate balance of the moment.

    A soft chirring noise drifted from somewhere nearby, a late-foraging insect hidden in the brush. Another joined it in an uneven rhythm, their calls blending with the rustling of grass in the wind. The landscape was alive, but the dinkus herd remained oblivious to it, their attention tuned instead to far greater threats.

    Misty¡¯s ear twitched, but she remained perfectly still.

    ¡®Remain here. I go. If they flee, I pounce.¡¯

    Del barely turned his head, just enough to acknowledge her.

    ¡®Gotcha,¡¯ he whispered in his mind.

    There was a moment¡¯s pause. Then her tail flicked once.

    ¡®When I signal, you shoot. Let us hunt.¡¯

    He exhaled slowly, withdrawing an arrow from his quiver. Even as Misty was about to melt into the underbrush, he ran the feathered end across his lips, dampening it slightly before nocking it against the bowstring.

    ¡®Why did you do that?¡¯

    He hesitated. ¡®I think I saw Robin Hood doing it in some movie or other.¡¯

    There was a long, unimpressed silence. Then she vanished.

    ¡®Great job, Del. You suck a fucking feather ¡®cos some bloody Hollywood goon thought it looked cool.¡¯

    Del rolled his eyes but said nothing, keeping his focus on the field ahead.

    ¡®Pay attention!¡¯ Misty¡¯s voice snapped, sharp as a whip. ¡®Be ready.¡¯

    He pushed the dampened arrow into the dirt beside him and drew a fresh one, nocking it carefully. His grip steadied as he lifted the bow, sighting down the shaft, muscles tensed in readiness.

    Even without seeing her, he could feel Misty preparing for the strike. The energy coiled inside her like a drawn bowstring, waiting for release.

    ¡®I just know her butt is twitching right now,¡¯ he thought, biting back a quiet laugh.

    Then¡ª

    ¡®Now.¡¯

    He loosed the arrow.

    The dinkus on watch turned sharply, its ears flicking back in alarm. A warning snort burst from its throat. As if connected by an unseen thread, the entire group exploded into motion, surging in a dozen different directions before wheeling as one and sprinting away.

    His arrow struck¡ªlow, too far back. A flank hit.

    Not a kill shot.

    For a breath, he thought the creature would escape.

    Then Misty struck.

    She was a blur of motion, a streak of burning amber against the green.

    She landed square on the dinkus¡¯s back, the impact sending up a cloud of dust and torn grass. Before the animal could react, she sank her teeth into its neck, ripping out a large vital chunk before leaping away, neatly avoiding a violent spray of gore and blood.

    The creature lurched a step once¡ªtwice¡ªthen crumpled.

    Del barely had time to process the clean efficiency of the kill before the rest of the herd vanished over the rise, hooves thundering against the earth.

    Silence returned, thick and heavy.

    Misty lifted her head from the fallen dinkus, licking a trace of blood from her whiskers. Her eyes met his.

    ¡®Next time, aim better.¡¯

 Chapter 76 â€“ Teacher

    Del leaned against the rough bark of a tree, the dinkus carcass swaying slightly where it hung from a sturdy branch. Blood dripped in slow, rhythmic splashes onto the damp earth below. He followed Elara¡¯s instructions to the letter¡ªlet it drain before butchering, keep the blade clean, work efficiently.

    Overhead, Misty sprawled across a low branch, her sleek form limned in the dying glow of the sun. She had been watching him for some time, tail twitching in that way he¡¯d come to recognise as the feline equivalent of an unimpressed sigh.

    ¡°Something on your mind, Misty?¡± Del asked, breaking the quiet.

    ¡®Oh, only the usual existential dread about being tethered to a subpar hunter,¡¯ she replied, the words soaked in mockery.

    Del shot her a look. ¡°Hey, no fair. When did you get to swallow a dictionary?¡±

    She stretched, her claws flexing, catching the amber light before retracting lazily.

    ¡®I put plenty of points into intelligence, Del. Maybe you should try the same.¡¯

    Before he could fire back, she continued, her tone almost contemplative.

    ¡®Really, Del, you¡¯d think by now you¡¯d have mastered the basics. It¡¯s almost endearing how bad you are at this.¡¯

    He chuckled, pushing himself upright and stepping toward the carcass. The thick scent of blood clung to the cooling air, mingling with the damp musk of leaves and churned soil. He drew his knife and ran a thumb along its edge, testing its keenness.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as constructive criticism.¡±

    ¡®It¡¯s not,¡¯ Misty retorted. With effortless grace, she dropped from her perch, landing without a sound before sauntering closer. Her tail curled high, a silent declaration of superiority. She settled just beyond reach, watching him with cool amusement.

    ¡®Let¡¯s talk about our recent hunt, shall we?¡¯

    Del groaned. ¡°Oh, do we have to?¡±

    ¡®Yes, we do.¡¯ Her whiskers twitched, though the exaggerated solemnity in her voice made it clear she was enjoying this. ¡®What exactly was your plan when you sent that herd halfway to the next continent? Was it performance art? Some abstract commentary on human futility?¡¯

    ¡°I shot at them,¡± he said defensively. ¡°And I hit one.¡±

    ¡®Barely.¡¯ Laughter laced her voice. ¡®And let¡¯s not forget your approach. You crashed through the underbrush like a drunken troll. I think even the worms were fleeing in terror.¡¯

    Del rolled his eyes. ¡°Not all of us have the advantage of being perfectly silent, oh great Huntress of the Wilds.¡±

    ¡®It¡¯s not my fault you walk like your legs are made of broken cartwheels,¡¯ she quipped, curling her paws neatly beneath her. ¡®You know, Del, there¡¯s a reason your kind invented farming. Stick to that. It¡¯s less embarrassing for everyone.¡¯

    He shook his head, unable to stop the grin creeping onto his face. ¡°Alright, oh wise one, what¡¯s your advice, then? How should I improve?¡±

    Misty tilted her head, green eyes gleaming.

    ¡®Step one: stop being human. It¡¯s a definite handicap. Step two: grow a tail. Balancing without one is just sad. And step three¡ª¡¯ she paused, clearly enjoying the moment ¡®¡ªstop smelling like fear and desperation.¡¯

    Del huffed a short laugh. ¡°You¡¯re ruthless, you know that?¡±

    ¡®It¡¯s a gift,¡¯ she said, flicking an ear before lifting a paw to groom. The movement was slow, deliberate, smug. ¡®But in all seriousness, Del, hunting isn¡¯t about brute force. It¡¯s about patience. Precision. Timing. It¡¯s about becoming one with the environment, not tripping over it.¡¯

    ¡°Easy for you to say,¡± he muttered. ¡°You¡¯ve got claws, fangs, and now a shapeshifting ability to boot.¡±

    ¡®True,¡¯ she admitted, sitting up a little straighter. ¡®And speaking of which, have you noticed how effortlessly I¡¯ve mastered it? One moment, I¡¯m your adorable, perfectly proportioned feline companion. The next, I¡¯m a ginger panther. A killing machine. Honestly, it¡¯s almost unfair to the rest of the animal kingdom.¡¯

    Del exhaled, eyeing her. ¡°Modest, too.¡±

    ¡®Of course. I have some dignity to maintain.¡¯

    ¡°Yes, you¡¯ve mentioned that once or twice,¡± Del said dryly. ¡°Though I do recall someone falling into that stream when she tried it on the way up here.¡±

    Her ears flicked, a rare crack in her usual composure.

    ¡®That was a calculated test of the environment,¡¯ Misty replied loftily. ¡®And it¡¯s not my fault water is wet. That¡¯s a design flaw.¡¯

    ¡°Of course,¡± Del said, biting back a laugh. ¡°How silly of me.¡±

    She flicked her tail once, dismissive, though the faint purr suggested she was pleased with herself.

    Del wiped his knife clean against the grass, the blade catching the last embers of fading daylight, its edge slick with blood. The sharp scent mixed with the rich, loamy earth, grounding him in the moment. The evening air had begun to shift, the heat of the day slowly fading, leaving behind the crispness of approaching night.

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    Above, the sky deepened from dusky violet to rich indigo, the first stars needling their way through the darkness. Wisps of cloud stretched thin across the horizon, streaked with the last traces of burnt orange and pink, but the light was draining now, surrendering to night¡¯s inevitable grasp.

    The world around them had already begun its transformation. A rhythmic chorus of chirring insects filled the air, weaving between the distant calls of nocturnal hunters. Somewhere beyond the trees, a rattle-wing let out its distinctive clicking cry, the dull blue-grey creature barely visible as it flitted between the shifting canopy. The undergrowth stirred with unseen movement¡ªsmall creatures waking, testing the edges of safety.

    Misty perched on a low branch, her sleek coat catching what remained of the sunlight, its glow turning the edges of her fur to burnished copper. She had been watching him for some time, unmoving except for the slow, deliberate sweep of her tail¡ªa silent blend of amusement and judgement.

    A faint breeze stirred through the trees, carrying the scent of damp leaves and the distant trace of running water. The firelight from the shrine was still too far to be seen, but Del could feel the change in the air¡ªthe moment when the land no longer belonged to the day. The wild was waking.

    ¡®The real question,¡¯ Misty continued, ¡®is why you, with all your so-called adaptability, can¡¯t seem to shoot a single dinkus.¡¯

    Del threw up his hands. ¡°Because they¡¯re fast, alright? And I¡¯m... not.¡±

    ¡®Fast?¡¯ Her tail swished lazily. ¡®You think that¡¯s the issue?¡¯ She let out a long, suffering sigh. ¡®Del, even if you were blessed with cheetah legs, you¡¯d still find a way to trip over yourself. It¡¯s about instinct, not speed.¡¯

    ¡°And I suppose you¡¯d be able to teach me?¡± he asked, dragging his knife down the dinkus¡¯s belly in a steady stroke. The hide parted cleanly, and he stepped back as its innards spilled onto the earth with a dull, wet thud.

    ¡®Oh, absolutely.¡¯ Misty stretched, extending her paws with languid ease. ¡®Lesson one: stop thinking like a human.¡¯

    Del arched a brow. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you could elaborate on that?¡±

    ¡®Gladly,¡¯ she said, pacing a slow circle around him. ¡®Humans overthink everything. You plan, you strategize, you hesitate. A good hunter doesn¡¯t think; they act. When I see a mouse, do you think I sit there debating the ethics of eating it?¡¯

    ¡°No,¡± Del admitted. ¡°But I also don¡¯t imagine you write poetry about it afterwards.¡±

    ¡®Exactly.¡¯ She settled back, tail curling neatly around her paws. ¡®Focus on the now, Del. The moment. Let go of that buzzing chaos in your head and trust your senses. Well, the ones you haven¡¯t dulled with bad food and even worse ale.¡¯

    Del snorted. ¡°Thanks for the vote of confidence.¡±

    ¡®You¡¯re welcome,¡¯ she said sweetly. Then, with a glint in her eye, she added, ¡®But don¡¯t worry, you have one redeeming quality.¡¯

    ¡°Oh? And what¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡®You have me,¡¯ she said, her tone dripping with mock magnanimity. ¡®And honestly, it¡¯s a miracle you¡¯ve survived this long without me. Truly, you should consider building a shrine.¡¯

    ¡°A shrine? For you?¡± Del laughed. ¡°And what would I offer? Catnip and warm blankets?¡±

    ¡®Throw in some fresh fish, and we might be onto something,¡¯ she mused, purring in his mind. ¡®But really, Del, don¡¯t be too hard on yourself. You¡¯re not the worst companion I could¡¯ve been saddled with.¡¯

    Del smirked. ¡°That¡¯s high praise. Coming from you.¡±

    Misty padded closer, the sharp edge of her humour softening, just a fraction.

    ¡®You¡¯re stubborn, hopelessly clumsy, and your aim is questionable at best, but you¡¯re loyal. And you listen¡ªmost of the time. That counts for something.¡¯

    Del exhaled, her unexpected sincerity settling somewhere deep in his chest. ¡°Thanks, Misty.¡±

    ¡®Don¡¯t mention it,¡¯ she said, her voice quieter now. ¡®But if you could try not to scare off the prey next time, I¡¯d appreciate it.¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best,¡± he promised, reaching out to scratch behind her ears.

    She leaned into his touch, just for a moment. Her eyes slipped half-closed, a low purr thrumming through her, a rare and fleeting indulgence. Then, as if catching herself, she pulled away with a small shake, resetting the boundary between them. Her tail flicked sharply, a silent return to form.

    ¡®Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I have an important prowl to attend to. Try not to embarrass yourself while I¡¯m gone.¡¯

    Del smirked. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡±

    She didn¡¯t respond, but her presence lingered in his thoughts, her voice slipping through his mind like a whisper.

    ¡®Make sure to keep the liver for me. And Del? If you¡¯re going to make a fool of yourself, at least make it entertaining.¡¯

    Then she was gone.

    Her form dissolved into the long shadows beneath the trees, swallowed by shifting layers of moonlight and darkness. He caught the faintest glint of her eyes¡ªtwo narrow slivers of reflected light¡ªbefore even that vanished, leaving only the whisper of grass parting in her wake. The night absorbed her completely, as if she had never been there at all.

    But Misty was not simply vanishing¡ªshe was hunting.

    She moved low, weaving seamlessly between the undergrowth, each step deliberate, a perfect harmony of muscle and intent. The scents of the night layered around her¡ªdamp soil, crushed leaves, the lingering iron tang of blood from the dinkus. But beneath it all, something else prickled at the edges of her awareness.

    A scent she didn¡¯t recognise.

    Her pace slowed. She ghosted between slender trees, their rough bark brushing against her fur as she passed. The silence here was different¡ªnot the tranquil quiet of a resting forest, but something waiting. Watching.

    She followed the scent trail to a large tree, its gnarled roots half-exposed, curling over the earth like grasping fingers. The marks were faint but unmistakable¡ªfour deep gouges raked into the bark, evenly spaced, deliberate. A warning, or a claim. Something had marked this place. Something unknown.

    Misty¡¯s tail swayed as she studied the markings. The air here was thicker, the scent stronger. Whatever left them wasn¡¯t far.

    Her ears twitched.

    A distant sound¡ªsofter than a whisper, almost imperceptible. A twig snapped somewhere beyond the trees.

    Her pupils widened, swallowing the moonlight, her entire body sharpening into readiness. She turned toward the noise, muscles poised, breath held.

    For a long moment, nothing. The world stood still. Only the rustling of unseen creatures and the distant hum of insects filled the void.

    Then, a pair of eyes¡ªlow to the ground, gleaming faintly in the darkness.

    Misty didn¡¯t move.

    Neither did the eyes.

    The creature, whatever it was, lingered just beyond the treeline, barely more than a shifting suggestion of form in the gloom. Watching. Measuring.

    Then, just as quickly, it was gone. A flicker of motion. A shape melting into the deeper dark.

    Misty exhaled slowly. Her ears flicked back, but she turned away from the scarred tree and padded toward Del.

    For now, it wasn¡¯t a threat.

    But it wasn¡¯t prey either.

    And that made it worth remembering.

    Del let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders before turning back to the dinkus. The night had deepened fully now, the air cool against his skin. The dampness of the earth was rising, the scent rich and heavy on the evening breeze.

    A lone bird let out a hollow, echoing cry in the distance¡ªsome nocturnal thing declaring its presence.

    He worked quickly, untying the carcass and hoisting it over his shoulder, the weight familiar against his back. His muscles protested, but he ignored them, gathering his gear before straightening.

    The path stretched ahead, winding through shadowed groves and open fields bathed in moonlight.

    Somewhere in the dark, Misty was already moving unseen, a silent guardian in the wild.

    Far beyond, barely visible on the horizon, the first flickers of firelight marked the shrine¡¯s location¡ªa distant beacon against the vastness of the night.

    With a final glance at the waiting woods, Del set off toward it.

 Chapter 77 â€“ Bouquet for a goddess

    The return journey to the shrine unfolded beneath a canopy of slowly shifting light. The forest had fallen quieter now, the hush of late afternoon broken only by the occasional chirr of insects and the soft rustle of leaves stirred by the cooling breeze. The blood-spattered sack slung across Del¡¯s shoulder swung in rhythm with his steps, the dinkus carcass tugging at his balance with each stride. Ahead, Misty led the way, her sleek ginger form slipping between shafts of sunlight like a living shadow¡ªtail high, ears pricked, alert to the world around her. Every so often, she paused to test the air or glance back, her pace unhurried but never idle.

    The light had turned long and golden, filtering through the branches in fractured mosaics that lit dust motes mid-air and painted the forest floor in shifting patches of gold. A bird with a rust-red crest darted between branches above, its wings sending a flurry of leaves into the breeze. The air carried a heady blend of warm moss, churned earth, and the faint iron tang that still clung to the kill.

    Del''s boots pressed into the softened trail¡ªworn smooth by time and disuse¡ªits surface cushioned by a layer of damp leaf litter and fallen pine needles. Behind them, the hush deepened, settling into that strange stillness that arrived just before nightfall. Not ominous, but expectant. As if the land itself were drawing a breath before the dark.

    A pair of chimes pinged from the interface strapped to his pack, muffled slightly by the fabric. He shifted the strap and flipped the panel open, brushing aside a dangling fern as he read:

    [Your sneak ability has improved slightly; try not to get caught.]

    [Tracking has improved slightly; it¡¯s the little things that matter.]

    He let out a quiet breath, one corner of his mouth lifting. Not a dramatic leap, but steady progress nonetheless.

    ¡°Misty, I may not be the best student,¡± he said, watching her weave around a moss-cloaked stump with feline grace, ¡°but you¡¯re a pretty good teacher.¡±

    She glanced back over her shoulder, the last slivers of amber light catching in her eyes. ¡®Of course I am. Did you ever doubt it?¡¯

    ¡°How could I ever, oh mighty feline?¡± he replied, sketching a shallow bow with one hand pressed to his chest. ¡°Queen of Claws and Wisdom. Dispenser of cryptic life lessons and unsolicited sass.¡±

    A soft snort escaped her, just louder than the rustle of bracken underfoot. ¡®At least you¡¯re starting to recognise greatness. It only took a dozen near-disasters.¡¯

    He huffed a quiet laugh. ¡°Harsh. You wound me.¡±

    Her tail flicked once, slow and deliberate. ¡®If you¡¯re wounded, it¡¯s probably your own fault. But credit where it¡¯s due¡ªyou didn¡¯t entirely ruin the hunt.¡¯

    ¡°Glowing praise. We should carve it into a tree or something.¡±

    ¡®Don¡¯t tempt me.¡¯

    She turned back to the trail, but her ears remained tilted slightly in his direction. He recognised that posture. She was pleased. She wouldn¡¯t admit it aloud, of course, but there it was¡ªin the subtle lift of her shoulders, the looseness in her gait. For once, he might actually have met her expectations.

    Which was vaguely alarming.

    The shrine came into view a few minutes later, revealing itself slowly between thinning trees and fractured shafts of copper light. Its timeworn steps glowed faintly under the setting sun, long shadows gathering in the crevices of its ancient stone. At the base, Elara and Naomi crouched in the grass, surrounded by trampled greenery and a scatter of vivid blooms. Naomi¡¯s sleeves were rolled past her elbows, her cheeks flushed with effort as she worked, brow furrowed in the kind of intense focus that only children seemed to manage.

    She looked up as soon as she heard their approach. ¡°Hi, Del!¡± she called, her voice bright and effortless, carrying across the clearing like a bell. A bouquet of blue-stemmed flowers waved overhead in triumph. ¡°I¡¯m getting flowers to make Myrrith¡¯s house pretty again!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s very thoughtful,¡± he said, stepping carefully around a patch of reclaiming ferns at the path¡¯s edge. ¡°I¡¯m sure the goddess will be delighted.¡±

    Naomi beamed at that and returned to her task with renewed purpose, humming softly to herself. A few stray petals clung to the loose strands of hair that framed her face. Wildflowers were tucked behind one ear¡ªpink and white and just beginning to wilt¡ªand her fingertips bore the smudges of green sap and crushed leaves.

    Elara rose smoothly as Del approached, her gaze already sweeping over the carcass hanging from his shoulder. He let the sack drop with a wet thump onto the grass, where it sprawled across a patch of flattened clover. The scent of blood lingered faintly in the air, though the breeze made quick work of chasing it toward the trees.

    Without a word, she crouched to inspect the carcass. Her fingers traced the edge of the wound near the shoulder, then shifted to the mess at the throat, her touch deft and assured. He¡¯d seen that expression before¡ªthe slight narrowing of her eyes, the way she tilted her head just so. Silent assessment. Calculating.

    ¡°Nicely done,¡± she murmured, not quite looking up. Then her gaze flicked toward Misty, now stretched out along the top of a mossy rock like some smug household deity. ¡°...Misty.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I helped,¡± Del said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. ¡°I didn¡¯t just drag it back like luggage.¡±

    ¡°Of course you did, Del,¡± Elara replied sweetly, brushing her hands together as she stood. One hand reached up to tap lightly against his cheek in that maddeningly condescending way she¡¯d made her own. ¡°You even managed to hit it.¡±

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    There was a pause¡ªjust long enough for him to think she might follow it up with something vaguely kind.

    Then came the grin. That damnable, wicked grin managed to be both infuriating and entirely accurate.

    From her perch, Misty let out a low, purring snort. Her tail twitched lazily, like a punctuation mark to the exchange.

    Then, as if on cue, the cat flopped onto her side in an extravagant sprawl, purring louder now, clearly inviting tribute. Elara obliged without hesitation, kneeling to run her hand over the soft fur of Misty¡¯s exposed belly.

    ¡®This one appreciates my skills,¡¯ Misty crooned, stretching into the attention. A moment later, her claws hooked around Elara¡¯s fingers and she began to nibble and wrestle with feline glee, twisting like a kitten caught mid-hunt.

    ¡®And this one tolerates my¡­ eccentricities,¡¯ she added, batting playfully at Elara¡¯s wrist with both paws, smugness radiating off her in waves.

    ¡°At least I can manage one thing,¡± Del muttered, drawing his knife and kneeling beside the dinkus. The blade slid in with surprising ease. For once, the skinning went smoothly¡ªno torn hide, no slipping grip, and no need for improvised profanity.

    By the time he scraped the last of the hide free, his hands ached, but the result wasn¡¯t half bad. Not perfect, but serviceable. When he glanced up, Misty was sprawled out nearby, one hind leg in the air as she lazily groomed her paw. Naomi sat not far off, humming to herself as she continued arranging her gathered blooms into neat, clustered bundles. A sweet, crushed flower scent drifted through the clearing.

    ¡°Right,¡± Del said, wiping his hands on a cloth and gesturing toward the stripped carcass. ¡°Let¡¯s get the best cuts off this before something with more teeth than manners picks up the scent.¡±

    Elara was beside him in an instant, crouching with that fluid grace of hers that always seemed just slightly inhuman¡ªlike gravity hadn¡¯t quite finished deciding how it applied to her. She moved with quiet purpose, her hands already at work, locating joints and sinew with the ease of long experience.

    ¡°I¡¯ll help. It¡¯ll be quicker this way.¡±

    ¡®Quicker, and less messy,¡¯ Misty remarked from her perch on a low stone, her tone light. ¡®You do have a gift for turning butchery into interpretive horror.¡¯

    Del didn¡¯t look up. ¡°Helpful as always.¡± He sliced carefully along the spine. ¡°One day, you know, I¡¯ll surprise you with my sheer competence.¡±

    ¡®I look forward to the miracle,¡¯ she purred, her tail curling around her paws like a satisfied sigil.

    Between Elara¡¯s precision and Del¡¯s determination not to embarrass himself, they made steady progress. The shoulder came off cleanly, the haunch took only a little coaxing, and the ribs followed with minimal fuss. They stacked the choice cuts and Misty¡¯s personal favourite, the liver; into the sack, tying it off. While the rest of the carcass was left in a tidy heap for whatever scavengers might find it.

    Naomi skipped over, arms overflowing with colour. She held up a particularly vibrant bouquet¡ªsunbursts of orange and deep purple, threaded with sprays of silverleaf.

    ¡°Do you think Myrrith will like these?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯ll love them,¡± Del said, rising with a low grunt. His back ached, but it was the good sort¡ªearned and honest. ¡°I reckon she already approves. You¡¯ve done a lovely job.¡±

    Naomi lit up at the praise and darted back to the shrine steps, carefully laying each bundle along the edge of the worn stone. Petal by petal, the space began to shift¡ªan arc of colour softening the timeworn shrine, as though coaxing something gentle back to the surface. Elara joined her, kneeling to murmur suggestions, occasionally repositioning a bloom or tucking stems into patches of moss.

    Misty landed silently beside Del, her green eyes tracking the pair with something that might have been approval.

    ¡®It¡¯s a start,¡¯ she said softly.

    Del gave a small nod. His gaze lingered on the shrine¡ªthe flicker of movement in the stone, the quiet warmth that seemed to hum beneath the lichen and old carvings. It didn¡¯t feel abandoned anymore. Not quite. Something in the air had shifted as if the place itself had begun to stir.

    When Naomi finished, they gathered their gear and prepared to leave. Del slung the meat sack over his shoulder, its weight solid and grounding. Misty had already slipped into the undergrowth ahead, her tail flicking through the ferns like a brushstroke.

    They followed the path downstream, the river flowing steadily to their right. Its current ran faster now, weaving around roots and sun-bleached stone, sparkling in the gaps where the light touched it. The breeze had grown cooler, carrying the scent of damp leaves and something faintly floral. Whatever tension had lingered around the shrine no longer clung to them¡ªits presence had eased, slipping away like mist burned off by the sun.

    The forest began to thin. Trees stood further apart, their branches letting golden shafts of light fall across the trail. The undergrowth gave way to softer terrain¡ªgrass and low ferns, scattered with pale wildflowers that swayed gently as they passed. Misty stayed ahead, unhurried but ever alert, her ears twitching at every call and rustle.

    Del walked in thoughtful silence. From time to time, he glanced back to check on Naomi, who trailed a few steps behind with a relaxed bounce in her step. She still held the half-finished flower crown, weaving it idly as she walked, humming a tune without shape or end. Occasionally she bent to collect another stem, her eyes scanning the forest floor with unselfconscious curiosity. Elara remained beside her, her expression unreadable but calm, gaze often flicking skyward, measuring the light, the clouds, perhaps even the hour.

    The trees gave way at last to a sunlit clearing, where the scent of tilled earth and fresh-cut grass rolled in with the breeze. Ahead lay a cultivated field, ringed by a weathered fence of split timber and knotted twine. Neat rows of barley and wheat stretched toward the light, their golden heads nodding gently with each breath of wind.

    Beyond the fields sat a farmhouse¡ªmodest, square-built, its stones worn smooth with time and weather. Smoke curled from its crooked chimney in a thin, lazy thread. To one side stood a squat barn with a lopsided roof, its timbers sun-faded and moss-tinged. A chicken coop nestled nearby, half hidden behind a hedge. The yard was scattered with forgotten tools: a rake propped against a wall, an old wheelbarrow tipped sideways, a dented milk pail, rusted at the rim. A heavy plough leaned at an angle beside the barn, its blade buried in weeds, dulled with disuse.

    Del slowed, eyes narrowing as he scanned the scene. The place looked lived-in¡ªbut not recently. No voices, no clatter of tools. Just the wind through the grain.

    They had barely closed half the distance when a wiry terrier burst out from behind the barn, barking furiously. It bounded toward them, its patchy brown-and-white coat bristling with nervous energy, tail wagging like a blur of indecision between welcome and warning.

    Elara halted, her eyes narrowing, attention sweeping across the yard with quiet calculation.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t on any of the maps I¡¯ve seen,¡± she said, her voice barely above the wind.

    ¡°Which makes it either a sanctuary,¡± Del murmured, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword, ¡°or trouble.¡±

    Misty glided forward, low to the ground, her nose twitching as she tasted the air.

    ¡®Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s the former,¡¯ she commented with a trace of dry humour threading her words. ¡®I¡¯m not in the mood to rescue you again.¡¯

    Del gave a faint snort and stepped after her, his tread light on the path.

 Chapter 78 â€“ Harmless, mostly

    A figure stepped out from behind the farmhouse¡ªa broad man in a wide-brimmed hat, his stance wary, one hand resting loosely on a pitchfork. His grip tightened when he spotted them.

    ¡°Strangers, eh?¡± His voice carried across the field, steady but edged with caution.

    Elara raised both hands, palms out in a non-threatening gesture. ¡°We mean no harm. Just travellers passing through.¡±

    He watched them for a long moment, then eased the pitchfork down a notch. ¡°Travellers, is it? Well, don¡¯t just stand there gawking. Come closer, and we¡¯ll see what you¡¯re about.¡±

    They approached the gate, halting politely as the man strode forward with a measured gait.

    ¡°Name¡¯s Joel,¡± he said, eyes flicking from one face to the next before settling on Elara. ¡°Don¡¯t get many of your sort down this way.¡±

    Del raised an eyebrow. ¡°That a problem?¡±

    Joel shrugged. ¡°Not at all. Just an observation. Haven¡¯t seen an elf since I left Hybern to take up farming here a couple of years back.¡±

    Behind them, Naomi hesitated, then edged into view from where she¡¯d been half-hidden.

    Joel¡¯s gaze shifted. He took in the young girl¡¯s guarded posture, and some of the steel in his stance gave way. His hand still rested on the pitchfork, but the edge in his voice softened.

    ¡°Got the full crew, then. Don¡¯t worry, lass¡ªI don¡¯t bite,¡± he said, gentler now.

    Naomi gave a small nod, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her cloak.

    Misty sauntered forward, tail twitching as she sniffed the air. She cast Del a familiar, unimpressed glance.

    ¡®This one¡¯s harmless¡ªmostly.¡¯

    Del smiled faintly. ¡°She¡¯s a good reader of people.¡± He gestured to Misty¡¯s relaxed posture with a slight incline of his head. ¡°We¡¯re just passing through. I¡¯m Del. That¡¯s Elara, Naomi... and Misty. Though she¡¯s more the boss of us than we are of her.¡±

    Joel chuckled at that, the last of his tension loosening. He let the pitchfork rest against the fence.

    ¡°Well, Del, you¡¯ve picked a quiet stretch to wander. Not much out here but soil and sweat.¡± Joel waved them through the gate. ¡°Come on. My wife¡¯ll have my head if I leave company standing at the fence.¡±

    They passed beneath the creaking gatepost and followed Joel up the dirt path, boots crunching over scattered grit and stray chaff. The scent of turned earth lingered in the still air, and nearby a weathered rain barrel dripped steadily, its rim slick with moss. A pair of old leather boots sat forgotten beneath a bench beside the porch, scuffed and misshapen from long use.

    As they neared the door, a small figure peered out from behind the frame¡ªa boy, perhaps five, with wide eyes and a stillness that felt deliberate rather than shy. He didn¡¯t flinch or hide, just watched them with the kind of intense focus that made Del slow his own movements without realising. A thin line of flour dust smudged the child¡¯s cheek, likely a handprint, and a thumb was tucked into one side of his mouth, though he didn¡¯t suck on it¡ªjust held it there, like a comfort piece kept at the ready.

    A tall woman appeared behind him, wiping her hands on the front of a well-worn apron. Her sleeves were rolled, and flour dusted the backs of her arms. Her dark hair had been braided neatly, though several strands had escaped and clung to her temples with the sweat of work. Her eyes swept over the group¡ªmeasured, not hostile.

    ¡°This here¡¯s Mara, my wife,¡± Joel said, his tone softening as he stepped aside to let her come forward. ¡°And that¡¯s Finn, our lad. Don¡¯t mind him¡ªhe¡¯s shy around new faces.¡±

    Del nodded to both of them, and beside him, Naomi gave a small, hesitant smile toward the boy. Finn didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t blink, but something in his posture shifted slightly¡ªan almost imperceptible lean closer to his mother.

    Mara gave them all a long look, then inclined her head. ¡°Strangers on the road, is it? There¡¯s a tale in that, I¡¯m sure.¡± Her gaze settled on the bundle of dinkus meat slung over Del¡¯s shoulder. ¡°And it seems you¡¯ve brought supper with you.¡±

    Elara returned the smile. ¡°If you¡¯ve a place for us to rest a while, we¡¯d be glad to share.¡±

    Joel gestured to the porch. ¡°Set your packs over there. Dog¡¯ll keep an eye on ¡¯em.¡± He nodded toward the terrier now sitting attentively by the door, her ears alert but her tail giving a single, considered thump. ¡°Name¡¯s Wren. She¡¯s more bark than bite¡ªunless you¡¯re a skep.¡±

    Skep? What the hell¡¯s a bloody skep? Del wondered, eyeing the dog with mild interest. Wren returned the look, then let out a huff and flopped back down, apparently satisfied that the visitors weren¡¯t about to start any trouble.

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    Inside, the farmhouse kitchen radiated homeliness. The air was warm with the scent of yeast and woodsmoke, the rich aroma of baking bread mingling with something heartier¡ªonions, root vegetables, and what might have been leek or sage. A heavy wooden table dominated the centre of the room, its surface worn to a satiny sheen in places, scuffed and gouged in others. A stack of old linen cloths sat at one end beside a simple ceramic basin, half-filled with water darkened by soil from recently washed carrots.

    Bundles of herbs¡ªsome fresh, some crisped with age¡ªhung from the beams above, and Del spotted an iron pot already simmering on the range, the occasional bubble rising to the surface with a thick plop. Mara moved between stove and counter with practiced economy, already slicing the first of the dinkus haunches into neat cuts. The creature¡¯s darker meat had been stripped of sinew and gristle with clean knife work, and the remaining bones rested in a battered metal pan by the window, likely destined for stock. She dropped a few chunks into the pot and stirred, testing the seasoning with the edge of a wooden spoon.

    Finn hovered nearby, close enough to be underfoot but not so near as to touch. He didn¡¯t speak, just shifted his weight from foot to foot, his fingers twitching lightly at his sides. His eyes tracked everything¡ªMara¡¯s movements, the guests settling their packs, Naomi trailing behind Elara, Misty stretching her back with a lazy, full-bodied motion before hopping lightly onto the hearth.

    Misty glanced toward Finn, ears tilting. The boy¡¯s gaze fixed on her for a long, still moment, and after what felt like quiet internal deliberation, he took a cautious step forward.

    Del held his breath, just slightly.

    Finn reached out, hesitating just at the edge of her fur. Misty watched him, unmoving.

    Then, gently¡ªalmost imperceptibly¡ªshe leaned her head forward, pressing her cheek into his palm. A purr rumbled up from her chest, soft but steady. Finn didn¡¯t smile, but his fingers spread just a little wider, resting there for a second longer than necessary before he stepped back again, still silent.

    Naomi gave him a shy smile from across the room, not saying a word. Finn blinked at her, then lowered his head and moved back to Mara¡¯s side.

    Del caught Misty¡¯s eye. She didn¡¯t say anything, but her tail gave a slow, deliberate swish, as if to say, Some of them are worth the effort.

    They took their seats around the table as the pot simmered on. Joel leaned back in his chair, the lines in his brow easing for the first time since they''d met.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mean to pry,¡± he said, ¡°but you lot seem a bit more... seasoned than your average travellers. What brings you through these parts?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re heading to Hybern,¡± Elara answered, her tone even. ¡°Didn¡¯t realise there was a farm this far off the road.¡±

    Joel chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°Most don¡¯t. That¡¯s part of why we chose it. Fewer visitors, fewer questions. Not everyone¡¯s built for the market towns or the city noise. Me and Mara wanted something simpler. And Finn...¡± He cast a brief glance toward his son. ¡°Well, crowds don¡¯t sit right with him.¡±

    Del gave a nod, his eyes drifting briefly to the window, where the fields beyond were now tipping into shadow. ¡°It¡¯s peaceful enough out here.¡± He paused. ¡°But you mentioned pests?¡±

    At the word, Misty¡¯s ears flicked sharply. She rose and padded over to the open windowsill; tail held aloft. With a graceful hop, she landed on the ledge and peered out into the dusk. ¡®Here we go¡¯, she muttered, nose twitching as she sniffed the breeze. Her posture was alert now, not tense, but wary¡ªlike she¡¯d heard that word before in less-than-pleasant contexts.

    Joel let out a slow breath and reached up to rub the back of his neck. ¡°Skeps,¡± he said at last. ¡°Big, rat-shaped bastards. Thick bodies, long claws. Mean. They¡¯ve been raiding the barn for weeks now. Wren gives it her best, but she¡¯s too small to do more than scare off one or two at a time. I¡¯ve seen their tracks, scat, gnawed boards... but the nest?¡± He shook his head. ¡°If it¡¯s nearby, they¡¯ve hidden it well.¡±

    Mara turned from the stove, stirring the pot with deliberate movements. Her brow had creased at the mention of the creatures. ¡°They¡¯ve done more than steal grain,¡± she said. ¡°Scared off half our hens. One of them nearly took Finn¡¯s hand when he went to check for eggs. If I hadn¡¯t heard the commotion and come running¡ª¡±

    Her voice caught there, not breaking, but harder now. Protective.

    Finn remained silent at her side, his eyes lowered. He hadn¡¯t reacted visibly to the story, but his fingers were working restlessly to disgorge some treasure stuck in his left nostril.

    Elara¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°That¡¯s more than just vermin. Have you tried traps?¡±

    ¡°Tried ¡¯em,¡± Joel said, spreading his hands in frustration. ¡°Poison too. Even smoked the barn out once. Damned things didn¡¯t even flinch. Smart, fast, and there¡¯s more than a few. I reckon if I¡¯d had the coin for a proper dog or some hired help, I might¡¯ve gotten ahead of it. But¡ª¡± He shrugged. ¡°You make do, or you don¡¯t.¡±

    There was a pause, the kind that falls when a truth has been laid bare.

    Across the table, Naomi looked over at Del. Her voice, when it came, was quiet. ¡°We could help,¡± she said, almost shyly. Her eyes didn¡¯t leave his.

    Joel hesitated. His eyes scanned the three of them¡ªElara, Del, Naomi¡ªand lingered a second longer on Misty, who had not moved from the window. ¡°I don¡¯t want to burden you,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re just passing through.¡±

    Del met his gaze. ¡°It¡¯s not a burden. We¡¯ve handled worse. And it sounds like these skeps are more than you ought to be dealing with alone.¡±

    Joel exhaled slowly through his nose, some of the tension ebbing from his shoulders. ¡°Ain¡¯t that the truth of it,¡± he muttered.

    Dinner was a thick, rich dinkus stew. Mara proved to be an excellent cook, and conversation flowed more easily as the warmth of the food took hold. Finn, after a few encouraging words from his mother, edged closer to Naomi and eventually began whispering shy questions about Misty, who watched him from her perch with slow-blinking eyes.

    ¡°We¡¯ve a spare room in the attic you can use for the night,¡± Joel said once the dishes had been cleared. ¡°Tomorrow, I¡¯ll show you where the trouble¡¯s been.¡±

    Del agreed without hesitation, and the plan was settled. As the evening wound down, the children were put to bed and the adults moved to the fire. The talk turned to Stonebridge¡ªthe roads leading out of it, the latest gossip¡ªand the story of how Joel and Mara had claimed the land, built their home, and coaxed the first harvests from the stubborn earth.

    Misty caught Del¡¯s eye, and a silent exchange passed between them. She stretched once, flexed her claws, and leapt from the windowsill in a single fluid motion, vanishing through the open frame into the darkness beyond.

 Chapter 79 â€“ Night dreams

    Elara curled into Del¡¯s side, arms winding around his middle as she settled beneath the blankets. Her breath, soft and warm on his skin, carried a whisper of sleep already taking hold. The quiet in the room felt thick and absolute, as though the house itself was holding its breath.

    ¡°Is it my imagination,¡± she murmured, ¡°or do fun and interesting things seem to happen around you?¡±

    He glanced down at her, brow lifting. ¡°In what way?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± she said, nestling closer, ¡°I travelled for over three weeks from the Homewood, across the High Hills, before I was caught by those goblins. I never came across anything other than normal plants and animals until then¡ªand your rescue.¡±

    Del gave a low chuckle. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just that we¡¯re heading into more travelled regions now. More people, more problems. More weirdness.¡±

    She tilted her head against his shoulder, thoughtful. ¡°Maybe. But it¡¯s been different. Before you, the journey felt... quiet. Empty, sometimes. Like walking through a painting that never changed.¡± She paused. ¡°With you, things move. Shift. Even the bad bits mean something¡¯s happening.¡±

    He smirked faintly. ¡°So, I¡¯m chaos with legs.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re something. I¡¯ll give you that.¡± She traced a slow circle with one finger against his ribs. ¡°It just feels strange. Falling asleep knowing someone¡¯s beside me. Safer, somehow.¡±

    There was a brief silence between them, but it was a warm one. Shared. Unspoken.

    Del let his hand rest in her hair, fingertips curling loosely into the strands. ¡°Not many people trust me enough to fall asleep beside me.¡±

    ¡°I trust you more than most,¡± she murmured, and then, with a crooked smile, ¡°which probably says more about my judgement than your trustworthiness.¡±

    He huffed a laugh, then turned his head slightly, planting a soft kiss against her temple. ¡°You¡¯ve got decent instincts. You trusted Naomi.¡±

    Elara¡¯s smile softened into something gentler. ¡°I did. Still do. She¡¯s a strange, luminous little thing. Not quite of this world.¡±

    They lapsed into silence again. The weight of the day settled around them¡ªmemories of the shrine, the fight in the crypt, the statue of Myrrith watching with hollow, broken eyes.

    After a moment, she whispered, ¡°That place... the shrine... did it stay with you?¡±

    He nodded against her hair. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s under my skin. Something about it just¡­ lingers.¡±

    ¡°I think we changed something,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t mean just the battle or clearing the space. I think we shifted something in the world. Set something back to rights.¡±

    Del didn¡¯t answer, but his grip around her tightened faintly. He felt it too¡ªthe sense of having nudged the scale, even if only a little. For once, not just surviving. Not just killing. Something better.

    ¡°Still makes it fun, travelling with you,¡± Elara murmured, voice now starting to slip toward drowsiness again. ¡°Never know what might come next.¡±

    Del smiled at that¡ªsmall, fond, worn down by the weight of bone-deep exhaustion.

    She gave a little shimmy under the blankets and, within minutes, her breathing deepened into a steady rhythm. The warmth of her body stayed close, grounding. Familiar.

    Del closed his eyes, but sleep came not gently, but like a shadow closing its fist.

    He was in a tunnel.

    Yet somehow, not.

    There was no entry point. No beginning. He simply was¡ªdropped into this place like a discarded thought. It wrapped around him without origin or logic, oppressive and whole.

    ¡®Okay, Del. Are you asleep or awake?¡¯

    ¡®How the fuck should I know? This is already way off the rails.¡¯

    The floor beneath him was damp and uneven, sucking faintly at the soles of his boots. He couldn¡¯t recall taking a single step, yet somehow he was moving. The air was thick and warm, humid in a way that felt unnatural. It tasted metallic¡ªlike a mouthful of coins and rain.

    Each breath snagged in his throat.

    He hated talking to himself. Hated the constant commentary.

    ¡®Then stop doing it.¡¯

    ¡®Bad habits are the hardest to break.¡¯

    ¡®So you¡¯re saying I¡¯m a bad habit?¡¯

    He rolled his eyes. Or tried to. The motion felt slow, warped¡ªlike blinking through syrup.

    The tunnel pulsed around him, lightless except for a flickering, dirty glow that didn¡¯t seem to come from anywhere. No flame, no torch, no visible source. Just enough illumination to show the slick walls, the irregular stone, the long, clutching shadows that moved when he didn¡¯t.

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    From somewhere ahead came a sound. Skittering.

    High-pitched. Insectile.

    Getting closer.

    A click. Then another. Then silence.

    Del ran.

    His boots slapped against the ground, splashing through shallow puddles that smelled wrong¡ªsweet and fetid. The echoes bounced back too quickly, like the walls were just out of reach, just waiting to close in.

    The tunnel stretched on, twisting beneath his feet. It writhed. Not metaphorically. It moved.

    The stone floor undulated beneath him as if he were running along the back of some great creature. The ceiling sagged in places, studded with things that glistened¡ªteeth or bones or something between. He didn¡¯t look too closely.

    The sound behind him shifted. The skittering grew faster, more erratic. Then¡ªworse.

    A wet dragging noise. Heavy. Organic. Like something slick being hauled over stone.

    Del didn¡¯t look back.

    ¡®Don¡¯t be an idiot, Del. You look, you die.¡¯

    The tunnel lurched sideways. He stumbled, caught himself on a wall that felt too warm, too soft. His fingers sank slightly before finding resistance. He yanked his hand back and gagged.

    A new scent struck him. Beneath the damp and decay¡ªsomething sharp. Sweet. Familiar.

    Blood.

    Fresh.

    His?

    He kept running, but the air was thickening, resisting him. His limbs grew heavier, each stride a desperate shove against something unseen.

    There was a sound ahead now. Something whispering. Words maybe¡ªbut warped. Repeating.

    ¡°Del... Del... Del...¡± Over and over, like breath pulled through a cracked flute.

    He turned a corner and saw a glimmer¡ªlight, white-gold, haloed like hope.

    ¡®Elara?¡¯

    He pushed toward it, lungs burning, chest tearing open with each breath.

    The light flickered.

    It wasn¡¯t her.

    It wasn¡¯t anything.

    The glow collapsed into shadow as something tall and spindly stepped into the path and grinned without a mouth. No face. Just teeth, suspended in nothing.

    Del recoiled, turned, bolted.

    The tunnel seemed to laugh. Not a sound. A sensation. Something vast and amused, just beneath the skin of the world.

    Then the sound changed again.

    Chittering. Then hissing. Then silence.

    He froze.

    The silence wasn¡¯t still. It had weight. Texture. It pressed against him like water waiting to rise.

    The tunnel inhaled.

    Not air¡ªhim.

    The pressure hit his chest. His ribs ached. His eyes watered. His knees buckled. Something clicked.

    Once.

    Twice.

    Right behind him.

    He ran. Again.

    The tunnel was collapsing¡ªnot crumbling, but closing. Spatially. Each footstep pulled the walls in tighter, as though it fed on his movement. His shoulder scraped against something slick. His hip caught on a jagged outcrop. Still he pushed forward, half-crawling, half-sprinting.

    His own voice whispered in his ears: ¡°I don¡¯t belong here.¡±

    Another voice answered, not his: ¡°Then why did you come?¡±

    He turned a corner and found a door.

    A door from Earth.

    Frosted glass. A brass handle. A sign painted in black block letters:

    St. Margaret¡¯s ¨C Oncology Ward ¨C Quiet, Please.

    He stared at it. His legs shook.

    It had no business being here. This was where¡­

    He reached for the handle.

    ¡°No; I didn¡¯t mean it¡±

    It dissolved beneath his hand like mist, vanishing into the wall. The door, the frame, the memory¡ªgone.

    The tunnel pulsed again.

    He heard a faint voice. A woman¡¯s.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. Let go. It¡¯s not your fault. You didn¡¯t know.¡±

    He didn¡¯t know whose voice it was.

    He ran.

    A figure, black cloak and glowing eyes stood ahead, a staff clutched in it¡¯s hand, a severed head gripped in the other, dripping black blood that smelled like crisping bacon.

    He spun, he needed to escape

    He couldn¡¯t remember why.

    Or how.

    The path dipped. Too steep.

    His feet slipped. There was no traction.

    He tumbled, twisted, slammed down a short incline into darkness, limbs tangled, throat raw from a scream he didn¡¯t remember making.

    He landed hard¡ªspine to earth, knees to stone.

    Something soft caught his head.

    Wet.

    Alive.

    He jerked upright¡ªarms flailing, chest heaving.

    A hand was on his face.

    ¡°Del. Hush, Del.¡±

    The voice cut through the panic¡ªsoft, coaxing. Familiar.

    He gasped, breath ragged, chest rising too fast. The tunnel, the pressure, the sound of clicking¡ªgone.

    Only the warmth of hands now. A lap beneath his head. The scent of flour and woodsmoke. A thumb brushing his cheek, slow and steady.

    His eyes blinked open to a blur of green and gold¡ªElara¡¯s face above him, her hair a tousled halo in the dim light. She looked down with a furrowed brow and that expression she wore when concern threatened to become frustration.

    She was sitting up, cradling him. His legs were tangled in the sheets like he¡¯d been fighting something that hadn¡¯t wanted to let go.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± she whispered. ¡°It was just a dream.¡±

    Del didn¡¯t answer straight away. His lungs ached. His pulse beat too hard in his ears. He tried to breathe¡ªreally breathe¡ªbut it came in shuddering pulls, like surfacing from too deep, too fast.

    ¡°Gods,¡± he muttered finally, rubbing both hands down his face. ¡°That was one bitch of a bad dream.¡±

    ¡°You were thrashing,¡± she said gently, fingers sliding through his sweat-damp hair. ¡°Muttering something. ¡®Behind me¡¯... I think.¡±

    He winced. ¡°I don¡¯t remember saying anything.¡±

    ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡±

    He stared at the ceiling, following the faint shadows etched across the old beams. Familiar shapes. Nothing hidden. Nothing waiting.

    ¡°I... can¡¯t remember,¡± he said, and hated how hollow it sounded. ¡°I had it. I felt it. And now it¡¯s gone. Just... darkness. And fear.¡±

    Elara didn¡¯t press. She just kept stroking his hair, slow and rhythmical. Grounding.

    ¡°It felt real,¡± he added, barely above a whisper. ¡°Too real. Like I wasn¡¯t dreaming. Like something else was happening. Watching.¡±

    Her fingers paused a moment, then resumed. ¡°You¡¯re safe now,¡± she murmured. ¡°You¡¯re not alone.¡±

    He didn¡¯t reply. Didn¡¯t quite believe it.

    There was a long pause. Her heartbeat thrummed beneath him, steady. His own began to follow its rhythm, falling into line.

    Eventually, the tightness in his chest began to ease. The panic dimmed, bit by bit. His limbs stopped twitching with ghost-memories of running.

    ¡°I hate this part,¡± he said quietly.

    ¡°What part?¡±

    ¡°The moment after. When you know it¡¯s over, but it still feels like it¡¯s waiting.¡±

    Elara shifted slightly and leaned down until her forehead touched his. ¡°Then don¡¯t face it alone.¡±

    He closed his eyes. Let out a long breath.

    He shifted off her lap, grunting softly as he sat up to straighten the blankets. His hands were still trembling.

    ¡°There¡¯s still a bit of night left,¡± he said, voice low. ¡°Let¡¯s try to get some more sleep.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± she said, already lying back. She reached for him as he turned, pulling him in close again without hesitation.

    He let himself be held, just for a moment. Her warmth bled into him. Real. Tangible. He buried his face against her collarbone and let his eyes slip shut.

    But the dream clung like smoke to his thoughts¡ªformless, sour, and thick with things left unsaid.

    And somewhere in the dark behind his eyes, something clicked.

    Once.

    Then silence.

 Chapter 80 â€“ So thatâ€™s a skep

    A cockerel¡¯s crow split the morning stillness, dragging Del from the thin edge of sleep. Pale light filtered through the shutters, tracing soft gold across the floorboards. He let out a low groan and slung an arm over his eyes.

    His head throbbed¡ªnot painfully, but with that dense, murky weight that dreams left behind. He couldn¡¯t remember the details, but the sense of being hunted still lingered like a bruise in the back of his mind.

    ¡®Damn dreams.¡¯

    Beside him, Elara stirred with a vague murmur. Her hand searched blindly for him, fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic. Her eyes blinked open¡ªbleary and unfocused¡ªthen closed again just as quickly. She gave a contented sigh, buried her face into his chest, and muttered, ¡°Not yet.¡±

    He smiled faintly, too tired to argue. ¡®Fair enough.¡¯

    A soft thump interrupted the peace. Then a familiar weight landed squarely across his hip, damp and self-satisfied.

    Del cracked one eye open.

    Misty, fur glistening with morning dew, leaned in and pressed her cold nose to his cheek.

    ¡®Gee, thanks,¡¯ he thought sourly. ¡®Exactly what I wanted first thing¡ªwet cat to the face.¡¯

    ¡®Some of us,¡¯ she replied, curling neatly against his ribs, ¡®have spent the night working, not snoring.¡¯

    ¡®And did your tireless efforts bear fruit?¡¯

    She began grooming, slow and deliberate, flicking her tongue over one forepaw with all the poise of a cat who¡¯d just saved the world and couldn¡¯t be bothered to mention it.

    ¡®Naturally.¡¯

    ¡®Would you care to elaborate?¡¯

    She paused mid-lick, gave him a slow, superior look, and resumed her task without answering.

    A few seconds later, she added: ¡®I found a skep. I killed the skep. I know where it came from. I¡¯ll show you after breakfast.¡¯

    Del gave her a few gentle scritches behind the ears, rewarded by a low, rolling purr. ¡°Good girl,¡± he murmured.

    An hour later, Del, Elara, and Misty descended the stairs to the warmth of the farmhouse kitchen. The scent of porridge and woodsmoke wrapped around them like a blanket, and the faint clatter of spoons echoed from the long wooden table.

    Naomi was already seated, animatedly chatting to a now considerably less silent Finn. The boy clutched his bowl with both hands, blinking at Naomi as though trying to keep pace with her cheer. His shoulders weren¡¯t hunched today. That alone felt like a small miracle.

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you,¡± Naomi insisted, ¡°she¡¯s not just a cat. I once saw her balance on a fence post for, like, ten minutes. On one paw.¡±

    Finn stared at her, awed. ¡°Like a chicken?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she said, offended. ¡°Like a warrior. With fur.¡±

    Del raised an eyebrow at Elara. ¡°Is she telling Misty stories again?¡±

    ¡°She never stopped.¡±

    Del spotted Mara at the counter, her sleeves rolled and her hair tied up beneath a faded scarf. She looked over, smiling at the sight of them.

    ¡°Misty, my cat,¡± Del said to Joel, who was halfway through a spoonful, ¡°was out roaming last night. I think she may have caught one of your skeps.¡±

    Joel blinked, spoon halfway to his mouth. ¡°Really? How do you know?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve got a bit of a weird bond,¡± Elara said, sliding into a seat and pouring herself a mug from the pot on the stove.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Naomi added, mouth half-full. ¡°She talks to him all the time.¡±

    Joel paused, looking from Del to Misty, who had settled herself beneath the bench with her tail curled neatly around her paws.

    ¡°Talks to him?¡± he asked.

    ¡°She¡¯s very articulate,¡± Naomi said solemnly.

    Joel looked baffled, but Mara chuckled, already reaching for the bread tin. ¡°Oh, you,¡± she said fondly to Naomi. ¡°Fanciful stories are the mark of too much energy.¡±

    Naomi opened her mouth, likely to launch into a full defence of feline intelligence, but Elara caught her eye with a quiet warning look.

    Naomi huffed, then shoved another spoonful of porridge into her mouth, muttering around it, ¡°It¡¯s not fanciful, it¡¯s true.¡±

    Joel turned back to Del, more curious now. ¡°So you didn¡¯t see it? The skep?¡±

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    ¡°No, but Misty¡¯s strut was particularly murderous this morning. Tail high, that smug look on her face. She does that thing when she wants me to notice something. Like I¡¯m the slow one in the relationship.¡±

    Joel frowned slightly, clearly not sure if he was being mocked. ¡°Right.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s brought us heads before,¡± Elara added casually. ¡°One time, an entire spine.¡±

    ¡°She left it on my pillow,¡± Del said flatly.

    ¡°That one was definitely a message.¡±

    Finn giggled into his porridge. Naomi looked both scandalised and impressed.

    ¡°If you and Finn are done,¡± Mara said, ¡°you might want to help him tidy his bed¡ªyou slept there too¡ªand then go fetch the eggs. And stay clear of the barn.¡±

    Naomi stood, already elbowing Finn. ¡°Come on. We have breakfast number two to collect.¡±

    ¡°Eggs,¡± Finn corrected, but his smile was wide.

    With giggles and a bump of shoulders, the two children scampered off, Naomi already spinning some tale about the Great Egg Hunt of Doom as they vanished through the door.

    The kitchen door clattered shut behind them, and for a brief moment, the farmhouse fell quiet.

    Out in the morning air, Naomi took the lead, skipping across the yard with her arms outstretched like wings. ¡°Right, Finn,¡± she declared, ¡°today we face the Feathered Gauntlet.¡±

    Finn trailed behind, a little bemused. ¡°Is that... a real thing?¡±

    She turned to him, eyes wide. ¡°Of course it is. The chickens guard their treasure fiercely. Last time, Mara almost lost a finger.¡±

    He frowned. ¡°I thought she just dropped the basket.¡±

    Naomi waved that off. ¡°Details. You¡¯ll need to be quick. And quiet. And possibly brave enough to face a rogue cockerel with murder in his heart.¡±

    Finn actually grinned at that, his voice lowering conspiratorially. ¡°What if we get ambushed? Do we run or fight?¡±

    ¡°Neither¡± Naomi said, crouching low. ¡°We distract them with decoy grain and sneak in while they¡¯re eating. But first¡ªstealth mode.¡±

    Finn mirrored her crouch, the two of them creeping through the grass with exaggerated care. One of the hens spotted them and clucked disapprovingly, fluttering its wings.

    ¡°She knows,¡± Naomi whispered. ¡°We¡¯ve been made. Quick, to the coop!¡±

    They broke cover and dashed for the henhouse, feet thudding across the soft earth. Finn reached it first, breathless but laughing, as Naomi skidded in behind him and flung open the hatch with a dramatic flourish.

    ¡°Welcome,¡± she said, ¡°to the Nest of Peril.¡±

    Breakfast wound down, and Del sipped the last of his hot drink¡ªearthy, herbal, and not remotely coffee.

    ¡®That wasn¡¯t coffee, I so need coffee.¡¯

    ¡®It was hot and tasted better than boiled leaves in cloudy water. I¡¯m counting it.¡¯

    ¡®Doesn¡¯t make it coffee.¡¯

    ¡®Still better than that swamp brew at the river camp.¡¯

    He set the mug down.

    Del leaned back in his chair and set his mug down with a soft clink. ¡°So, Joel,¡± he said, stretching slightly, ¡°want to show us what we¡¯re up against?¡±

    Joel stood with a grunt, brushing crumbs from his tunic. ¡°Most of the time they come after dark. What they don¡¯t eat, they ruin¡ªfoul it, piss in it, scatter the rest. Makes it useless.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Seed stock¡¯s gone ropey. Half of it won¡¯t even sprout now. Not enough to keep us going if it keeps up.¡±

    He led them outside, boots crunching on gravel, Misty strutting ahead with her tail held high, each step full of feline superiority. The sun had crested the trees now, casting long slats of golden light across the dirt path. The last of the dew clung to the grass, glinting like pale fire in the morning hush.

    Somewhere off to the side, the dog gave a lazy bark and then went quiet again.

    Misty stopped just short of the barn and sat beside something slumped in the grass. She didn¡¯t look at it. She didn¡¯t need to. Her posture said enough: I did this. You¡¯re welcome.

    Del slowed. Elara came up beside him, her gaze sharp. Joel¡¯s boots scuffed behind them, the man¡¯s breath suddenly heavier.

    At first glance, it could have been a rat¡ªalbeit one on the wrong side of monstrous.

    But as they closed the gap, that illusion began to unravel.

    Its fur was patchy and coarse, dark and matted like cinders caught in damp ash. Its limbs were too long¡ªangular, almost skeletal. The claws were hooked, yellowed at the tips, better suited to tearing than digging. Its body was bloated, the ribs pushing up beneath the skin in uneven ridges, like the thing had grown wrong from the inside out.

    And then¡ªits head.

    Heads.

    Two of them, side by side, joined at the neck like some grotesque afterthought. Each had its own snout, narrow and twitching even in death. Rows of small, mismatched teeth jutted from both mouths, frozen mid-snarl. One eye was ruptured. The other three stared blankly upward, lifeless¡ªexcept the upper-left, which shivered faintly as it caught the sunlight, as though the creature¡¯s body didn¡¯t know it was dead.

    Del crouched slowly, heart beating a touch harder.

    ¡®Identify¡¯

    Skep ¨C Beast, male

    Level ¨C 8

    Scavenger

    Strengths: Strong olfaction

    Weaknesses: Light

    Skill: Unknown

    Lore: Skeps are pack animals, often living in large colonies underground or in cave systems. They have poor eyesight and can be easily disorientated by bright lights. They have a very strong sense of smell and use this to hunt out food to scavenge and return to the home nest.

    He exhaled, a low whistle escaping through his teeth. ¡°No wonder Wren couldn¡¯t handle one.¡±

    Elara leaned in behind him. ¡°That thing¡¯s the size of a bloody spaniel,¡± she said, voice tinged with disgust. ¡°And its skin¡ª¡± she knelt briefly, touching the matted fur with the back of her fingers ¡°¡ªit¡¯s oily. Like lamp grease.¡±

    Del nodded. ¡°Look closer. Two heads.¡±

    Joel scratched at the back of his neck, expression tight. ¡°Well... shit,¡± he muttered. ¡°That¡¯s... definitely a new one.¡±

    ¡°To recap,¡± Del said, standing and brushing his palms off on his trousers, ¡°you have a problem with big, ugly, two-headed bastards eating your food and scaring your kids.¡±

    Joel nodded slowly. His face had gone a little pale now that the thing was laid out properly in the sun. ¡°Aye. That sounds about the size of it.¡±

    ¡°And my little ginger lunatic killed it in the night.¡±

    Joel looked at Misty, really looked. She blinked slowly, unbothered.

    ¡°How in all the hells did your cat manage that?¡±

    Del shrugged, grinning. ¡°She¡¯s got hidden depths.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s got murder in her heart,¡± Elara added, still watching the corpse with narrowed eyes.

    Del crouched again and looked Misty dead in the eye. ¡°Good job. Can you show us where you think they¡¯re coming from?¡±

    Misty stood with fluid elegance, arched her back in a stretch that looked theatrical even for her, and began winding around their legs. Then she padded off across the yard toward the far paddock without so much as a backward glance.

    ¡°Follow me,¡± she might as well have said.

    Joel opened his mouth¡ªperhaps to ask if they needed help¡ªbut Del shook his head. ¡°We¡¯ll let you know what we find.¡±

    They stepped after Misty, boots soft on the dew-heavy grass.

    From an upstairs window, two small faces peered through the glass¡ªNaomi and Finn, wide-eyed and whispering. Naomi tapped the glass once, as if to wish them luck, then ducked out of sight.

    Del didn¡¯t wave. He just kept walking, the warmth of the farmhouse fading behind him, and the first shadow of the paddock¡¯s rough terrain falling ahead.

 Chapter 81 â€“ The burrow

    After perhaps half a mile of cautious progress, Misty continued to lead the way, pausing frequently to sniff the air or study the ground. Her tail flicked with focus, ears twitching at the slightest sound. They rounded a patch of scattered rocks and lichen-spotted boulders¡ªand there it was.

    The entrance to the burrow.

    Del¡¯s chest tightened at the sight of it. It stirred something instinctive. A cold thread of half-remembered terror wound up his spine.

    The tunnel mouth was wide¡ªtall enough that he only needed to stoop slightly to enter. The earth underfoot was firm, tightly packed into a stable, dry surface. The air was heavy with the scent of fresh loam and something sharper¡ªlike mouldy hay left too long in a damp barn.

    Misty padded into the dark ahead, unhesitating. Her nose worked constantly, testing every shift in the breeze, her tail low and steady.

    As they followed her into the gloom, the fading morning light vanished almost instantly behind them. Pitch black settled in fast. Elara murmured a quiet incantation under her breath, and as the soft tingle of mana flowed outward, small globes of light appeared over their hands¡ªcool, blue-white, and steady.

    She moved close to Del, her light overlapping his, forming a stronger pool of clarity against the creeping dark.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t natural,¡± she murmured, brushing her fingers along the tunnel wall. ¡°The structure... it¡¯s been reinforced. See how the dirt¡¯s interwoven with root systems? The skeps are clever. They¡¯ve co-opted the flora to stabilise the tunnels.¡±

    Del grunted, his voice low. ¡°Clever¡¯s one word for it. Dangerous is another.¡±

    The tunnel was too narrow for his sword. He had both venom fang daggers drawn instead¡ªblades with weight and purpose. Cold steel, but reassuring in his grip. Elara had her own dagger, and from the subtle tension in her shoulders, Del suspected she was also holding a spell on the edge of release.

    Misty stopped abruptly.

    Her head whipped to the left. A faint sound followed¡ªbarely a whisper. A rustle. A shift of loose earth. Something scraping gently against stone.

    Del¡¯s heart jolted.

    ¡®Movement,¡¯ Misty told him, a low growl rising in her throat.

    Naomi¡¯s astral projection flickered into view beside Del¡ªtranslucent, tinged blue, and eerily bright in the tight, shadow-soaked tunnel.

    He flinched on instinct, breath catching as the flickering form materialised just inches from him. For half a second, his body thought ghost.

    Then he recognised the face. Naomi.

    ¡°Gods, Naomi,¡± he muttered. ¡°Warn a man next time.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not close yet,¡± she said calmly, her voice echoing with that strange, weightless cadence. ¡°But I can sense them. At least three. Maybe four.¡±

    Del recovered quickly, adjusting his grip and glancing toward the darkness ahead. ¡°Brilliant. Let¡¯s hope they¡¯re as easy as that one you killed back at the farm Misty.¡±

    ¡®They won¡¯t be,¡¯ Misty replied, tail lashing once¡ªsharp. Final.

    Elara turned, eyes narrowing. ¡°Naomi. Since when can you project like this?¡±

    Naomi gave a tiny shrug, the gesture slightly off in the floating form. ¡°I¡¯ve been... practising.¡±

    ¡°In secret?¡±

    She hesitated. ¡°Sort of.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a very strong projection for someone your age,¡± Elara said, tone threading concern through every word. ¡°You need to be careful. Even short bursts like that can drain you¡ªespecially without grounding.¡±

    Naomi¡¯s mouth set in a line. ¡°I know what I¡¯m doing.¡±

    ¡°Not yet you don¡¯t young lady, you have a lot of learning to do.¡± She sighed and ran a hand over her eyes. ¡°Does Mara know?¡±

    Another pause. ¡°She¡¯s watching Finn,¡± Naomi said, which wasn¡¯t an answer.

    Del glanced between them, still unsettled by the flickering silhouette of the girl he was used to seeing with sticky fingers and grass-stained knees. ¡°Naomi,¡± he said, quieter now, ¡°don¡¯t push too hard. You don¡¯t have to prove anything.¡±

    Naomi¡¯s expression softened just a little. ¡°I¡¯ll check in again soon.¡±

    And with that, her image vanished¡ªleaving behind only the faint shimmer of fading mana and the hush of watching earth.

    They moved on, slower now. The tunnel seemed to close in as the air grew thick with tension¡ªhumid, silent, watching. The passage widened into a chamber, the ceiling arching overhead like the ribs of some ancient, buried beast.

    They separated slightly to check the space. The blue lights flickered across the walls and caught on something strewn across the floor.

    Bones.

    Dozens of them. Some were obviously animal¡ªlong, narrow femurs, cracked-open ribcages¡ªbut others...

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    Del crouched low, eyes scanning.

    Smaller. Humanoid. Stripped bare and yellowed with age. Some twisted at wrong angles. Others had teeth marks.

    He swallowed hard.

    ¡°They¡¯ve been here a while,¡± Elara said. Her voice was tight now. Not frightened, but wary. ¡°These bones feel old.¡±

    At the far end of the chamber, Misty crouched low, nose pressed to the dirt, sniffing hard. She turned her head, expression sour.

    ¡®The scent splits,¡¯ she said. ¡®Two paths. One reeks of skep. The other...¡¯ She wrinkled her nose. ¡®Decay.¡¯

    Del stared into the dark tunnel to the right. A pressure pulsed there¡ªunseen, but present. ¡°Decay could mean anything,¡± he said. ¡°From bones like these...¡± He gestured at the floor. ¡°To something worse.¡±

    Elara¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°We¡¯ve seen worse.¡±

    He nodded, memories of the shrine surfacing like oil on water. Broken spirits. Hollow eyes. Shadows that didn¡¯t cast light. ¡°Better to deal with the living threats now than let them sneak up on us later.¡±

    Elara agreed with a single, grim nod.

    Del stepped into place behind Misty, his blades ready. The cat slunk into the tunnel without hesitation, and Elara brought up the rear.

    Behind them, the chamber seemed to breathe.

    And ahead¡ªthe dark waited.

    Del¡¯s boots crunched softly against the packed soil, every step a betrayal of their presence. The tunnel walls felt closer now, the dark thicker, like something breathing just out of sight.

    Ahead, Misty froze.

    Her ears flattened.

    Del tightened his grip on the daggers. Adrenaline surged.

    ¡®Hold,¡¯ she hissed.

    The tunnel opened into a second chamber¡ªsmaller than the last, with only a single exit across the far wall. Two skeps prowled the space. One paced near the centre, twin heads raised, nostrils flaring. Its black fur rippled with each breath, alert, agitated. Behind it, the second creature rooted through a scatter of debris¡ªwhat looked like the broken remains of a wooden crate, splintered and chewed.

    The first skep growled low in its twin throats, both heads snapping round in perfect unison.

    It had seen them.

    No more waiting.

    ¡®Del, flank right,¡¯ Misty ordered, her voice sharp and immediate in his mind. Even as she gave the command, her body surged upward, muscle rippling as she shifted¡ªgrowing taller, leaner, her frame sharpening into a predator¡¯s silhouette.

    ¡°Elara¡ªlight the room!¡± Del snapped.

    Elara raised her hands. A burst of white brilliance erupted outward, flooding the chamber in an instant. The skeps shrieked at the sudden glare, their twin heads recoiling¡ªsnarling and blinking furiously. But the hesitation was brief.

    The first beast launched itself toward Del, claws skittering on the stone floor, both heads stretched forward with jaws wide. Saliva flew in ropes from jagged yellow teeth.

    Del moved fast¡ªsidestepped left, twisting his body as one blade came up. The venom fang dagger sliced across the skep¡¯s flank, carving a red line deep into muscle. The creature yelped, stuttered, but didn¡¯t slow.

    One head snapped low, aiming for his ankle. He pivoted just in time¡ªthe jaws clamped down on the edge of his boot with a crunch, tearing leather and narrowly missing flesh. The second head lunged high, fangs glinting.

    Del raised both daggers¡ªbut he was too slow.

    Misty slammed into it from the side.

    Her claws tore across the beast¡¯s back in a savage rake, deep enough to expose bone. The skep screamed, both heads jerking in different directions, trying to fight back. It rolled with her, twisting, biting at anything it could reach.

    They grappled, kicking up dirt and blood, until Misty sank her teeth into its spine.

    There was a wet, tearing crunch. The skep jerked once¡ªthen went still beneath her.

    But the second one was already moving.

    It barrelled across the chamber with a shriek, low to the ground, both heads snapping in unison. Elara stood her ground.

    She threw her hand forward, mana flaring. A pulse of raw force burst from her palm, catching the creature in the chest and hurling it backward. It slammed into the wall with a heavy thud, ribs audibly cracking.

    It hit the ground¡ªand scrambled up almost instantly, blood in its eyes.

    Elara stepped in, dagger raised. The beast lunged.

    She pivoted sideways and drove the blade up hard, burying it under the creature¡¯s jaw, right where the two necks split. Blood sprayed in a hot arc across her sleeve. The skep thrashed once, its claws gouging the earth, then collapsed¡ªtwitching, choking on its own breath.

    For a moment, nothing moved but the thick drip of blood.

    Del backed away, panting, lungs burning. His arms trembled with the aftershock.

    The air stank¡ªblood and fur and panic-sweat. The chamber was smeared in red already, pools soaking into the packed earth beneath their feet.

    Misty sat a few feet away, tongue dragging slowly over one paw as though nothing had happened.

    ¡®Efficient,¡¯ she said, tone almost bored. ¡®But noisy.¡¯

    ¡°Misty says we were too loud,¡± Del told Elara, still breathing hard.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t have much choice,¡± she replied, lowering her hand and dimming the light to a softer, pale glow. She glanced at the tunnel ahead. ¡°If they didn¡¯t know we were here before... they do now.¡±

    ¡®Good,¡¯ Misty said. Her tail swished once, slow and deliberate. ¡®That saves us the trouble of hunting.¡¯

    Naomi¡¯s projection flickered into place beside Del¡ªblue, wavering, and sharp-eyed.

    ¡°You need to keep moving,¡± she warned. ¡°They¡¯re changing direction¡ªtrying to surround you.¡±

    Del nodded, already moving toward the next tunnel. ¡°Let¡¯s go before reinforcements show up.¡±

    His muscles still hummed with tension, but the edge of the adrenaline had dulled¡ªjust enough to make him feel the ache of it in his limbs.

    They pressed on, the air growing thicker with every step. A faint hum echoed through the tunnels¡ªmovement, not constant, but always there. A reminder that they were not alone.

    The memory of the decay-scented tunnel still lingered at the edge of Del¡¯s thoughts, gnawing quietly at his resolve. There was something wrong in these tunnels. More than beasts. More than simple scavengers. The threat here felt sharper. More deliberate.

    And he could tell Elara felt it too.

    The tunnel narrowed again, forcing them into single file. In some places, they had to turn sideways to slip through the tight choke points. Misty led with feline ease, her sleek form flowing through the gaps like water. Del followed closely, blades ready, each step deliberate. The weight of the daggers in his hands grounded him¡ªcomfort and warning in equal measure.

    Behind him, Elara murmured another incantation. Soft green light shimmered briefly over her hand, forming intricate vine-like patterns before vanishing into her skin.

    ¡°I¡¯m keeping them ready,¡± she said, voice steady but hushed. ¡°The vines won¡¯t move fast in this space, but I¡¯d rather have them prepared.¡±

    Del nodded, throat dry. ¡°Good. Anything that keeps them off us is worth it.¡±

    A skittering noise stopped them cold.

    Del froze.

    Misty¡¯s ears twitched, locking onto the sound. A faint scrape just ahead¡ªstone on stone, soft and sharp. She lowered herself to the ground, muscles coiled, every inch of her poised to spring.

    Del glanced back at Elara. Her dagger was already raised.

    ¡®Just one,¡¯ Misty said, her mental voice taut. ¡®Scout. Left tunnel.¡¯

    A flicker of blue shimmered beside him¡ªNaomi¡¯s astral form. Translucent. Watching.

    ¡°You can take it quickly,¡± she whispered. ¡°But be careful. The others are moving in. Trying to surround you.¡±

    Before Del could reply, she vanished again, leaving only the cold hush of stone and breath and blood.

    Misty didn¡¯t wait.

    She sprang forward, a streak of motion, claws glinting. Del charged after her, rounding the corner just as the lone skep turned¡ªtoo slow, too late.

    It snarled¡ªbarely a sound¡ªbefore Misty sank her teeth into its left-hand throat. There was a wet, crunching snap. The creature twitched once, then dropped.

    ¡®Handled,¡¯ Misty said, baring her teeth. She spat the taste out onto the floor. ¡®But we¡¯ve got company. Move.¡¯