ã€ŠThe Witch and The Wolf: Bond of the Ancientsã€‹


 Chapter One - Lucky Bard

    No other duo could match Chuma and Mok¡¯Ar as night guardians. Both seasoned and skilled, complementing each other¡¯s strengths and weaknesses, they were once again entrusted with safeguarding a 3-km radius around their hideout. However, tonight was unlike any other.

    ¡°What a bewitching night, ay?¡±

    Chuma¡¯s pirate-like voice pierced the air, despite never seeing a ship. Mok¡¯Ar had long since deciphered this as a sign of his partner¡¯s concealed anxiety. And he couldn¡¯t blame him. The forest enveloping their secret lair was palpably ominous tonight. The celestial glow of the Three Sisters was the only source of light in a world otherwise devoid of sound¡ªno rustling leaves, no hooting owls, and no chirping crickets. Just a suspicious silence. The woods held its breath, as if wary of hidden evil.

    Chuma was a short, bald man, his nose a crooked landmark on an otherwise forgettable face. He moved with the grace of a shadow, his every step almost noiseless, his actions devoid of sentiment.

    Mok¡¯Ar¡¯s grip tightened around the hilt of his gargantuan battle-ax, its blade catching a fleeting glint from the moons above.

    ¡°What? You scared, big guy?¡± Chuma spat out, his voice strained, his eyes darting like frenzied fireflies.

    In contrast to his partner, Mok¡¯Ar was a so-called human giant: an imposing behemoth of muscle, with shoulders as broad as an ox-cart, eyes like dark pebbles, and a snout resembling a swine¡¯s. His voice rarely ventured beyond monosyllabic grunts, but his eyes lit up like a child¡¯s at any chance to spar. He had loved fighting since a young age, often brawling because people mocked his deformed teeth that made his lower lip look bloated.

    Unbeknownst to him, or indeed anyone who encountered him, his lineage was tainted by orcish blood. He was the unwitting legacy of a lone orcish warrior who survived an ill-fated expedition to human lands. Enslaved and consigned to the unyielding rocks of a quarry, Mok¡¯Ar¡¯s ancestor had been a subject of fascinated stares, particularly from ladies. Although he impregnated many of them, only one woman survived childbirth. Because of these unintentional deaths, he was executed, and his lover and their newborn child were banished.

    Despite the odds, his lineage persevered through the generations, the orcish genes blending with human DNA. In Mok¡¯Ar¡¯s case, these traits manifested with surprising strength.

    Sadly, neither he nor Chuma had the privilege of familial love; they were both orphans molded by adversity into thugs, thieves, killers, and outlaws.

    Two other members of their group were stationed at the entrance to their hideout, nearer to the heart of their gang and potential reinforcement. If Chuma and Mok¡¯Ar faced danger on these outskirts, it would be too late to notice their absence. Yet, luck or divine neglect smiled upon them this night. As they circled back during their bi-hourly check-in, they¡¯d silently offer thanks to the old gods that whatever danger roamed the woods tonight had overlooked them.

    ???

    ¡°You can wait here,¡± Dave said and gestured towards a hollow formed by the gnarled roots of a colossal oak tree. His voice, deep and smooth, shattered the night¡¯s unsettling quiet.

    ¡°As always,¡± Red said politely and gave a slight nod.

    A breeze that rustled the leaves above carried her voice¡ªvelvety and youthful. Cascading waves of chestnut hair framing her face danced in the wind, and a stray strand of her side-swept bangs veiled her eyes.

    With the grace of a dancer, she brushed the disobedient hair behind her ear with one hand, while her other hand lowered her worn leather shoulder bag onto the leaf-strewn ground. In a gesture that echoed hers, Dave let his thick, dark, silk obsidian hair fall free from its makeshift bun. It cascaded down to just below his shoulders as he handed her the leather band that had confined it.

    ¡°How many are there?¡± she asked.

    Her question was a strategic calculation, devoid of curiosity or worry. She measured the wait time to plan her follow-up accordingly.

    While eyeing her young, soft, and defined features through his smokey charcoal gray eyes that always seemed to hold a storm within, Dave fished a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his dark leather trousers pocket.

    ¡°Two are on patrol. They¡¯ll be back in two hours. Two at the entrance, six inside,¡± he said, striking amatch and igniting the tip of his cigarette.

    The faint scent of sulfur mingled with the earthy aroma of fallen leaves. As he exhaled slowly, the smoke spiraled into the crisp night air, adding a tinge of smokiness to the natural fragrance around them. He glanced from her face to the dark woods, where old trees wore majestic crowns scattering the dim glow of the moons.

    ¡°Twenty minutes?¡±

    She reclined against the oak¡¯s rough bark, her fingers pulling the crimson hood over her head to shroud her features.

    Dave rubbed his left eye marked by two diagonal scars¡ªrelics from a time he never spoke of, the gesture of his muscular hand swirling the smoke from his cigarette. Even though they had been traveling together for some time, his relationship with her remained complicated, and he kept many secrets from her.

    ¡°Fifteen is fine,¡± he grumbled, the words barely escaping from between his lips, which clamped a smoldering cigarette.

    The smoke spiraled, cloaking his angular face in a sinister veil. Red couldn¡¯t help but chuckle; his sharp nose, marred by a horizontal scar, seemed to slice the curling smoke as if defiantly declaring its presence.

    His eyes narrowed as he glanced at her. Her youthful mannerisms had always annoyed him. Nonetheless, of late, there was a slow shift. The way her pink lips formed a bashful curve, a smile, was gradually becoming something worth spotting. Yet inner dissonance lingered; they had, after all, started as enemies, forced to cooperate to break the ancient magic that bonded them together.

    ¡°Be careful,¡± she uttered as he moved away.

    Although she knew he would be alright¡ªDave was always alright¡ªa lingering sense of worry remained within her. The cruelty he was capable of still weighed heavily on her heart, yet she understood it was simply who he was. She banished the unsettling thoughts and looked around, but he was already nowhere to be seen.

    Quick and quiet, as always.

    A hunter who had once considered even her his prey.

    ???

    The two guards who had once occupied the entrance now lay just a stone¡¯s throw away from each other, their necks contorted in an unsettling fashion that made it clear they¡¯d met a swift end. Dave had handled it with professional efficiency. No spills of blood to clean, no commotion to stifle. Red understood the necessity; silence was paramount, ensuring no time for them to alert their companions slumbering within.

    Stepping lightly, she advanced, clutching a small but effective knife. A wavering light from a distant torch within the cave cast her shadow, which played on the irregular stone walls as if it were a misshapen specter.

    During their travels, the knife with a blade specifically crafted for gathering plants had proven its worth in a more violent role on two separate occasions. The memories of those instances were brief but vivid flashes in her mind. She shook them off. No time for that now.

    Her footsteps echoed, layering over the musty scent filling the air. It was a strange blend of rock salt and smoldering torch oil, a sensory combination that made the cave seem both ancient and lived-in. Somewhere deeper, a gruesome sound¡ªlike the tearing of meat¡ªresounded.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Dave¡­

    Before continuing, Red took a deep breath, steeling her nerves for what lay ahead.

    The chamber she next entered was more confined than she had expected, cluttered with a haphazard arrangement of travel chests and makeshift sleeping quarters. Bags presumably filled with clothes and well-crafted swords laid beside each sleeping sack.

    Her brow furrowed. She wondered if they were in this place for the long haul, or if this was just a pit stop in their broader journey across the kingdom.

    As she moved further in, the metallic scent of blood intensified. Three of the sleeping sacks were splattered with it, and a wide, uninterrupted trail led into the shadowy depths beyond. She trusted Dave to handle whatever was happening back there. Her task was to scavenge for anything valuable¡ªusable goods or items for bartering.

    The swords were solid and well-crafted. The wear on the blades suggested their owners knew how to use them. She sifted through the bags. Clothes, some leather straps, ropes. Mundane items mostly. As she pondered her finds, a haunting whisper of something breaking¡ªbone, by the sound of it¡ªechoed through the cave, causing goosebumps to ripple across her skin.

    Her gaze flicked towards the entrance, ears straining for any sound.

    Silence.

    The patrol¡¯s return wasn¡¯t imminent; they had ample time to slip away undetected.

    The chests were locked, keys most likely in the possession of their original owners. Red knelt, stowing her knife and retrieving a set of lockpicks from her bag. While a spell would make quick work of unlocking them, magic had faded over four centuries, leaving behind a world bereft of its once-familiar presence. She sighed, her lips curving into a melancholic smile.

    I miss you, grandma.

    In moments like these, her thoughts inevitably turned to her grandmother. Despite the years, the absence persisted, especially when the Three Sisters adorned the sky in the Three-Headed Goddess formation¡ªthe same as the night her grandmother had passed away.

    A resounding click wiped the wistfulness from Red¡¯s expression, replaced by a triumphant smirk.

    ¡°Got you.¡±

    The chest yielded effortlessly. Another bunch of clothes, belts, knives, and weapon accessories accompanied a handful of golden coins. Red collected just the gold, depositing it all in her pouch. The remaining contents held little value for carrying. The other chests, upon inspection, revealed nothing substantial. As she closed the last, a presence brushed against her senses from behind.

    ¡°Attempting to scare me?¡±

    She rose, her lips curving into a playful smile as she turned.

    Dave¡¯s smirk answered her question. His hair was messy and his hands were stained in fresh gore. Red fetched a flask of water from her bag. With a wave of his hand, he refused.

    ¡°Buckets of water and some towels are further back. I¡¯ll clean there. But there¡¯s something you should see.¡± With that, he turned and departed.

    Intrigued and slightly uneasy, she capped her flask and followed him, careful to avoid the still-wet, crimson path that led deeper into the cave.

    After walking briskly for a few moments, Dave guided Red through a tunnel-like corridor that opened into a junction. The air seemed heavy, nearly solid with unexpressed anticipation. Each option had sufficient light provided by strategically placed torches, and Dave guided her to the right path.

    As they stepped into a smaller chamber, the atmosphere intensified. It was a heavy, stifling quiet that seemed to physically press against their skins.

    The sight that greeted them upon entering was not apleasant one: two blood-soaked sacks lay abandoned on the floor, but it was the cage at the center of the room that commanded her attention.

    Inside was a young man, blindfolded and bound, his hair a cascade oflong dark waves tousled around his face like a messy halo. Wearing just worn-out trousers, an old torn shirt, and brown boots, he was sitting in an uncomfortable position. His breathing was quick and shallow¡ªno doubt a mix of confusion and fear. Every breath, gasping and shaky, intensified the silence and heightened the gravity.

    ¡°Shall Ibite his head off?¡±

    Dave¡¯s voice, low and almost detached, accompanied the ignition of his cigarette.

    ¡°Dave!¡±

    Red¡¯s reproach was immediate and stern.

    ¡°What? He can be dangerous.¡±

    ¡°I-I-I¡¯m n-not¡­¡±

    The young man¡¯s voice trembled, carrying a melodious timbre despite the fear it held.

    Red arched an eyebrow at Dave, her fingers deftly taking out a lockpick set.

    ¡°You hear that?¡±

    He responded with an annoyed look, and as she crouched down, skillfully picking the lock, he took out a key from his pocket and tapped her shoulder. Her gaze shifted to it, and she swiftly seized it from his hand, a mixture of irritation and amusement flickering within her.

    He didn¡¯t need to have brought her here; he could have eliminated the guy, concealing his existence from her. Yet he respected her stance enough to allow her involvement. He was changing. Her lips curved into an unconscious shy smile he couldn¡¯t see.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll help you. But¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, in the name of the Ancients, thank you!¡±

    The young man cut her out, his voice hinting a relief.

    ¡°I will be in your debt.¡±

    ¡°But,¡± she repeated, her voice, normally velvety, took on a weightier tone as she continued, ¡°if you do something foolish, you¡¯ll meet your end.¡±

    Dave¡¯s chuckle resonated as he extinguished his cigarette against the cave wall. The prisoner energetically nodded his head, anxiety etched across his features. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Iwon¡¯t, Ipromise. I¡¯m in your debt, lady.¡±

    ¡°Lady?!¡±

    Both Dave and Red echoed simultaneously, an amused note lacing their tones. Their gazes connected for a moment before he looked away, the edges of his lips curling upwards.

    ¡°We¡¯ll keep him tied and blindfolded until we are far enough,¡± Dave said as she opened the cage.

    He moved swiftly inside, his voice firm as he addressed the captive.

    ¡°Make a sound, and I¡¯ll snap your neck.¡±

    The guy was nodding before the warnings were finished.

    Minutes later, they emerged into the open air, traversing the woodland with haste. Luna, one of the Three Sisters, was nearing the horizon, the night transitioning towards dawn. At a safe distance, Dave gently placed the young man on the ground, realizing his hands were still covered in blood. They must locate a creek, at the very least. The metallic smell of the blood was irritating him. He glanced at Red, who promptly extracted her knife, untied the prisoner, and removed his blindfold.

    With a deep inhale, the prisoner¡¯s light, stormy gray eyes darted between the tall, muscular man with a rugged and refined face adorned with stubble, and the young girl with full, pink lips.

    ¡°Thank you, beautiful damsel, and brave¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut up.¡±

    Dave¡¯s words were curt, his gaze intense yet controlled.

    ¡°Dave, you don¡¯t have to be so rude. Are you hurt?¡±

    Her attention remained focused on the young man, his smooth, pale complexion, and handsome features not escaping her notice.

    The guy patted himself down with both hands, ensuring his well-being.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay, I guess?¡±

    Dave¡¯s interjection was swift and irritated.

    ¡°You guess?!¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m fine. They roughed me up a bit, but I¡¯m alright. Thank you again. I¡¯m Joaquin, a humble bard traveling the lands, spreading stories and joy.¡±

    His voice held a charm, a melodious quality befitting his trade.

    Dave turned to leave, his impatience clear.

    ¡°Great. Now you can continue your travels. Let¡¯s go, Red.¡±

    ¡°Dave, we should at least navigate him to town,¡± she said, shaking her head.

    A smile played upon Dave¡¯s lips, though he concealed it before turning to face her.

    ¡°That way.¡±

    With a sweeping arm motion, he gestured westward.

    ¡°I know it might be rude,¡± Joaquin said, his voice shaken with hesitation, ¡°or that I¡¯m asking too much after you¡¯ve saved me, but could you escort me to town, please? I can get easily lost in the woods, especially at night, and I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Give us aminute,¡± Red interrupted him.

    She took Dave a short distance away and engaged in hushed conversation.

    Dave kept his eye on Joaquin.

    ¡°He is not our problem,¡± he said.

    ¡°But we can¡¯t just abandon him,¡± Red countered, her voice tinged with something unspoken, something curious. ¡°He¡¯s a bard.¡±

    ¡°So?¡±

    ¡°They know stories.¡±

    A playful smile appeared on her lips, and a spark lit in her eyes.

    Dave¡¯s eyes narrowed but then opened wider, as if seeing the possibility. He knew very well that Red was much smarter than him, but he was learning her ways quickly.

    A witty little girl.

    His smirk conveyed his understanding. He glanced at Joaquin; bards often carried legends of ancient times, old gods, and forgotten relics. Unfortunately, the bards they had come across so far proved to be of no help.

    Despite doubting the young man¡¯s knowledge, their progress had stagnated for too long. The chance might be slim, but it was a chance they couldn¡¯t afford to ignore.

    He exhaled audibly, which was all Red needed to see to smile victoriously. She pivoted gracefully and headed toward Joaquin.

    ¡°Good news, Mr. bard. We¡¯ll accompany you to town.¡±

    His face lit up at her girlish tone, and he offered an elegant bow.

    ¡°But,¡± she continued, ¡°remember, any false moves and you become a wolf food.¡±

    Dave contained a laugh, watching Joaquin¡¯s smile give way to confusion and apprehension. Red¡¯s manner of offering a threat was an art in itself, sweetened by her earnestness.

    Without further ado, they set out towards the nearest town, Dave leading the way. Joaquin¡¯s gratitude resonated throughout the night, offering heartfelt expressions of thanks. Unaware of his kidnapper¡¯s identity, he found temporary safety with these strangers. His true identity remained concealed, and all those bandits lay lifeless. The orchestrator would learn the mission had failed after he was far away. None of them had any inkling of the troubles that Chuma and Mok¡¯Ar would soon unleash. Oblivious to the looming peril, they inadvertently became ensnared in the risky dealings of the notorious Bad Wolf.

 Chapter Two - Bad Wolf

    Lavinoir was a hereditary monarchy for over millennia. Its glorious land was spreading broad at the south of the Arimungu continent. And nestled in the kingdom¡¯s heart was Memfis.

    Small town exuding serenity, in contrast to the bustling world beyond. It was often dubbed the perfect haven for those entering their twilight years. Just a two-day journey to the west lay a more lively city, a vital crossroads known for its sprawling markets, lucrative business prospects, and shadowy underbelly. Yet Memfis remained untouched by its neighbor¡¯s influence. Even prominent enterprises, regardless of their ethical standing, paid little heed.

    The people cherished their city, especially their mayor. The majority were middle-class citizens living in harmony, with a select few wealthy elites among them.

    Amid the opulent district of Memfis, the affluent residents were discreet, unlike the enigmatic figure living just outside the city walls, a mere half-hour walk away.

    An impressive estate with vast grounds, renowned for its mysterious owner, watched over Memfis as a majestic guardian. Nobody quite knew who this person was; they were simply referred to as one of the city¡¯s primary benefactors and protectors. Little did the townsfolk suspect that their esteemed mayor kept most of these donations for himself, a secret agreement well within his rights.

    The mansion¡¯s servants were a common sight in the city, savoring their leisure. Yet, every inquiry about their duties or their elusive master received the same response.

    ¡°It¡¯s private.¡±

    Over time, the townsfolk stopped asking and caring. Memfis prospered, thanks to this inscrutable patron, and if peace and privacy were the prices, the people willingly paid it.

    ???

    Close to eleven at night, the piano¡¯s gloomy tones were interrupted by a heavy knock. A young, pale pianist paused, awaiting her master¡¯s orders. He, dressed in a dark purple suit, turned around his lean, athletic frame, a long claw clicking against his glass as he sniffed the air. His jackal features took on a sinister cast in the dimly lit room, accentuating his short abyssal fur, which possessed a metallic glow.

    ¡°Come in, Pierre.¡±

    The pianist¡¯s spine shivered as his voice, rough like gravel, filled the room. The double-winged door to his private sanctuary parted, and as it opened, an older servant appeared. He bowed respectfully and stood at attention.

    ¡°Apologies for the intrusion, sir, but your distinguished guest has arrived.¡±

    ¡°Excellent, bring them forth,¡± the jackal said, his gaze shifting to the pianist. ¡°You are free for the rest of the night, my dear.¡±

    She rose, executed a graceful bow, and left along the servant, her long, crimson braid swaying gently.

    A sinister grin revealed sharp, glistening teeth. The guest¡¯s unexpected arrival today brought a stroke of luck. It promised not only a generous reward but, more significantly, an elevation of his prestige, dispelling any lingering doubts concerning his business dealings.

    Festayas, as they called those of his race, humanoid beings with animal-like traits, often faced discrimination. Despite a few being celebrated for their talents, particularly in sports, representing various kingdoms, animosity toward them ran deep.

    Anubis, as he called himself for the time being, harbored ambitions that spanned diverse facets of existence. As a festaya, he enjoyed a longer lifespan, a distinct advantage that enabled accumulating knowledge he now harnessed to his advantage. While he was publicly recognized for his interest in art and antiques, particularly relics from ancient eras, his darker pursuits remained concealed, known to only a select few.

    Suddenly, a resounding knock reverberated through the room. Anubis¡¯s acute senses detected something amiss¡ªthe unmistakable scent of fear. The sound of a quiet growl filled the air as he commanded, ¡°Enter.¡±

    The aging servant opened the door, ushering in a middle-aged thug clad in simple leather armor and a dark hooded cape. Though his demeanor projected confidence and experience, uncertainty danced within his eyes.

    Anubis gestured for the servant to depart. He fixed his golden gaze on the mercenary.

    ¡°Speak.¡±

    The man moistened his lips with his tongue before finding the right words and courage to speak.

    ¡°The exchange was a failure, sir. We¡­¡±

    He stammered as the resounding growl and the scraping of a claw on the glass reached his ears. The thug understood all too well the gravity of disappointing the Bad Wolf, a notorious figure in the underworld with interests spanning from stolen art to kidnapping, murder, and human trafficking. While rewarding those who delivered, failure incurred a harsher fate¡ªdisappearance.

    After a seemingly endless silence, the thug continued, his voice quivering.

    ¡°You tasked me with extracting the goods from a mercenary group. However, when I came to the meeting point, only two men showed up, claiming that their entire squad had been slaughtered, and the goods taken, sir.¡±

    Anubis¡¯s eyes narrowed as he sensed the stench of lies and fear from miles away. The messenger was telling the truth. Gnashing his teeth, his mind started racing.

    Could someone else try to get the reward? Everyone in the kingdom, particularly those interested, was aware of it. However, it was no simple task. It took him months and a considerable amount of gold to locate the bard, as he called himself now. He must get him back as soon as possible.

    He pierced the thug with his golden eyes.

    ¡°Those two survivors came with you, correct?¡±

    ¡°Y-yes, sir.¡±

    ¡°Send them here and get lost. You are not getting a single coin from me.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sir. I-I understand.¡±

    The thug bowed and left the room. He didn¡¯t care about the money. Years later, he would tell stories about how he messed up a simple task for the Bad Wolf and survived.

    As the jackal emptied his glass, his grip tightened until it cracked. His greatest concern was whether the wrongdoer comprehended the formidable opponent they were facing and if it was intentional. Anubis had amassed a collection of enemies, but did anyone possess the audacity to oppose him? Or was there an unrelated situation occurring? He needed to talk to those thugs and see what he could find out. Depending on the situation, the next step was to recruit a more capable individual for the job at hand.

    Moments later, Chuma and Mok¡¯Ar stood in front of the Bad Wolf himself, something they would have never dreamed about, explaining how they found dead members of their squad. Two at the entrance, their necks twisted, the rest deep in the cave, their bodies torn apart, faces unrecognizable.

    Initially skeptical, Anubis soon realized that the palpable fear, the hesitant tones, and the halting recollection didn¡¯t lie. Someone very capable massacred a group of skilled mercenaries and took the bard. It wasn¡¯t a coincidence. The clock was ticking.

    ???

    ¡°So, you two are a couple? You fit very well together,¡± Joaquin remarked as Red handed him a flask of water.

    His fatigue was visible. Following his rescue, they had been making slow progress through the woods, and the sun¡¯s position showed it was late morning, approaching midday.

    A chuckle escaped Red¡¯s lips at Joaquin¡¯s question. In contrast, Dave shot him a stern glance.

    ¡°I liked you more when you kept your mouth shut, bard,¡± he uttered.

    ¡°So you like me already? That¡¯s a good sign.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t provoke him, Joaquin. But you could be nicer, Dave.¡±

    She took the bottle from the bard¡¯s hand and stashed it in her shoulder bag.

    ¡°Also, it¡¯s almost lunchtime; we could take a break.¡±

    With those words, she sat down and leaned her back against the nearest tree.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go fetch some berries. Will you be alright with him?¡± Dave said and gestured with his head towards Joaquin, who had just settled down a few steps away from her.

    As she removed her hooded cape, she could feel the weight of the world lift off her shoulders, and she unbuttoned a few buttons on her worn-out, once-white shirt for some much-needed comfort.

    ¡°I can handle a young man, don¡¯t worry.¡±

    Dave nodded, his attention captivated by the pale, smooth skin of Red¡¯s neckline. Realizing his gaze, he turned on his heel and disappeared among the trees.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Now, I¡¯m confused. I thought it offended him when I called you two a couple; now, this stare was¡­¡±

    ¡°We are not a couple,¡± she cut off his melodic speech, her voice calm. ¡°We are just travel companions, mere travel friends. Nothing more.¡±

    ¡°And that stare?¡±

    He raised his eyebrows and moved closer to her.

    ¡°You¡¯ve seen what wasn¡¯t there, Joaquin. Still, he is a man attracted to women, and he has his needs. And I¡¯m a woman. Besides, are you not staring right now?¡±

    She glanced at him with a mysterious gleam in her eyes.

    ¡°I-I wouldn¡¯t dare to,¡± he stammered. ¡°Sometimes, my eyes act beyond my control.¡±

    She waved her head, smiling and leaning on the tree with shut eyes, basking in the sun¡¯s warmth.

    Joaquin examined her features. She didn¡¯t resemble a warrior, thief, or an adventurer. Her skin was too smooth for such endeavors. Facial features appeared young and unburdened. He couldn¡¯t imagine her being older than eighteen. Even that seemed like much.

    The calm breaths she was taking accentuated her firm, ample breasts, barely concealed by her unbuttoned shirt. He let out a sigh.

    Those eyes¡­

    Despite his youth, he had witnessed many wise eyes. Yet none were quite like her rich, chocolate-colored ones. Their mysterious glow, the sincerity within them, and the wit they carried all intrigued him. She even moved and spoke differently. As a graceful fairy.

    As for her traveling companion, Dave, he seemed equally suspicious. Tall, muscular with a sharp face, he moved through the forest as though it were his home, exuding a relaxed air, an aura of leadership that stemmed from knowing where each step would take him.

    A ranger, perhaps?

    Dave must be a formidable and skilled fighter. He had single-handedly dealt with those bandits earlier. Joaquin doubted Red had contributed much to that endeavor. He vividly remembered the sight of Dave washing his bloodied hands earlier in the morning. Strangely, Dave carried no sword, bow, or any visible weapon. Briefly, the bard doubted the wisdom of engaging with these mysterious figures. But those doubts soon melted away. This was precisely what he had dreamed of, mysterious strangers to fuel his artistic journey, inspiring countless stories he could sing.

    Engrossed in his thoughts, Joaquin failed to notice Dave¡¯s return until Red¡¯s velvety voice interrupted his daydreaming.

    ¡°Wild strawberries?¡±

    From the depths of his sleeveless shirt, Dave pulled out a handful of them and handed them to her, offering the rest to Joaquin.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, his face playing with confusion. ¡°Are you not hungry?¡±

    ¡°I helped myself right at the source.¡±

    Dave casually reached into his pocket, fishing out a pack of cigarettes as he glanced at him.

    ¡°So, Joaquin,¡± Red interrupted. ¡°Do you know any fascinating songs, tales, or legends?¡±

    A chuckle escaped Joaquin¡¯s lips, the remnants of the berries staining them red.

    ¡°What kind of question is that, lady Red? Of course, I do. I know many tales transformed into songs. Romantic, adventurous, even terrifying. Whatever your heart desires, I can sing.¡±

    At first, he straightened his back in a cocky posture, but then his face clouded and his voice grew somber.

    ¡°But what¡¯s a song without music? Those thugs broke my lute as I tried to escape them. They tore my vest and ruined the rest of my attire. I resemble a homeless man, with no gold to spare for a new instrument¡­¡±

    He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. Slowly, he chewed on the berries, his gaze fixed on the ground.

    Red and Dave exchanged a silent stare. Neither understood how much the bard¡¯s lute meant to him, or the depths of his despair. His journey had been a dream, albeit challenging to begin, risking far more than they could imagine. Yet, Joaquin was no weak-hearted man. He would rise, acquire a new lute, and continue his travels. A wide smile spread across his face.

    ¡°You shake off quickly,¡± Red remarked as she stood up and stretched, her brown leather trousers emitting a slight creak.

    The bard¡¯s eyes were drawn to her full, heart-shaped derriere, adorned by a loose belt on her left hip and a small dagger on the right.

    Instantaneously, he sensed the pressure of a gaze upon him. Their eyes locked, and a shiver coursed down Joaquin¡¯s spine as he was trapped by the intense force of Dave¡¯s stare. The bard bit his lip, forcing a smile as he scratched his chin and stood up, matching Red¡¯s pace.

    This time, Red took the lead, Joaquin following, and Dave maintained a distance at the rear.

    The forest grew hushed; only the faint sounds of a far birdsong reached their ears, and even that eventually fell silent as they drew closer. The only sounds that accompanied them were the rustling of their footsteps over fallen leaves and the occasional crackling of twigs underfoot.

    After walking like this for an hour, Red hummed a melody. Joaquin¡¯s heart swelled with joy. He listened for a while, and recognizing the tune, began to sing. It was an age-old lullaby. Not that he had ever heard a lullaby from his mother or father. Red showed no signs of discomfort with his impromptu serenade. If anything, she slowed her pace so they could walk side by side.

    When he finished singing, she smiled at him, her bag resting against her side, carrying her red hooded cape.

    ¡°You can sing very well.¡±

    ¡°Oh, lady Red, that was a mere nursery rhyme, not an actual song,¡± he said with a tone filled with confidence and good cheer.

    ¡°So, sing me an actual song, bard. Perhaps one about adventure or treasures.¡±

    ¡°Treasures?¡±

    He raised an eyebrow. Red instantly caught the suspicious glint in his dark eyes. She could see the gears turning in his head. He was sharper than she had initially thought.

    ¡°Joaquin, what do you think we do to earn a living?¡±

    He cast a glance backward, but Dave had vanished from sight. As he redirected his gaze to Red, he shallowly breathed in.

    Could they be Relic Raiders?

    The notion fascinated Joaquin.

    Relic Raiders operated in larger groups and had extensive connections with various merchant guilds. Yet, he had heard whispers of solitary individuals who ventured into ancient tombs, forgotten ruins, and deep caverns in pursuit of treasure. Did they have a specific reason for visiting the cave where he was held?

    The absence of substantial equipment caught his attention and left him wondering. Red¡¯s shoulder bag, while sizable, didn¡¯t appear to contain the typical gear like hooks, ropes, and other implements used for such endeavors. Perhaps they had lost their equipment on some expedition, which would explain their ambush of the bandits. And Red, intentionally or not, had placed a noticeable emphasis on the word treasures. It seemed she desired him to recognize their identity.

    ¡°I must admit, I¡¯ve been wondering about the identity of my saviors. Are you suggesting, lady Red, that you delve into dungeons and other perilous places in search of riches?¡±

    She brushed her bangs aside as a breeze scattered them into her eyes.

    ¡°Not precisely, but to some extent, yes. We travel the land, seeking forgotten and intriguing locations, uncovering history, and occasionally, with a stroke of luck, discovering something valuable. Were you concerned that we might belong to some throat-cutting guild?¡±

    ¡°A tad. I¡¯ve encountered numerous Relic Raiders on my travels, but none like you and Dave. Speaking about the devil, where is he?¡±

    He cast another nervous glance around. Even though there was no trait of Dave, he sensed his lingering presence, his ever-watchful eye.

    ¡°We are not Relic Raiders. Although we have something in common, we don¡¯t belong to any such guild. We just love to explore. And don¡¯t worry about Dave, he can take care of himself. He went further ahead to scout. These woods are vast; it would be a miracle if only one bandit group had its hideout among the many caverns that are beneath our feet.¡±

    With an agreeing nod, the bard rubbed his chin.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard many stories about these lands. Legends about how the underground river of dragon¡¯s blood carved these caves and tunnels. I hope your companion will be all right.¡±

    He took a quick look over his shoulder again. This feeling of being watched bothered him.

    ¡°A group of bandits might¡ª¡±

    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine,¡± she interjected, her voice sweet but firm. ¡°Let me hear those stories you mentioned. I¡¯ve never heard of them.¡±

    Despite his swirling thoughts and unanswered questions, he couldn¡¯t reject a beautiful woman¡¯s request for a song.

    Clearing his throat, Joaquin started singing. It took him some time to relax and find his rhythm. But as he dived deeper, the worry fell off. He and Red enjoyed songs and storytelling for the rest of the day. His manner of narrating was enthralling, his voice as sweet as honey, and his fervor for his craft intoxicating.

    Red relived being a little girl again, listening to her grandmother¡¯s tales. She also noted that each time her emotions flickered across her face, Joaquin altered his tone, eliciting laughter from her. He was genuinely considerate. And handsome. Her experiences with men were limited. Her parents had passed away when she was a baby, and she had been raised by her grandmother. Before she had any chance to meet another man, Dave swept into her life like a hurricane, forever changing its course. Since then, their fates have been intertwined, forever destined to be each other¡¯s downfall.

    ???

    With each swift step, the fallen leaves crunched under her feet, releasing an earthy scent that filled the forest air. The dense canopy above allowed only slivers of moonlight to seep through, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance alongside her.

    Her eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in every detail. The moons cast a luminous glow upon the land, illuminating the ancient trees that stood like guardians, their twisted branches stretching out like ethereal hands. To her surprise, Joaquin, and Dave were nowhere in sight, leaving her feeling puzzled and alone. The night was alive with the symphony of owls and crickets, their calls, and chirrups filling the heavy silence with an otherworldly cadence. Each note of nature¡¯s nocturnal choir resonated in her ears, amplifying her anxiety until it clenched her heart in an icy grip. When Dave was around, the world seemed to hold its breath.

    Where are you, Dave?

    Despite the tumult of her emotions, some invisible force compelled her forward, deeper into the forest¡¯s enigmatic embrace. Before her loomed a distant, old hut, nestled between the trees like a forgotten relic of the past. Its timeworn timbers whispered secrets of ages gone by. Red knew this place intimately, for it was here that she had spent her childhood and teenage years under the watchful gaze of her wise grandmother. A faint light flickered in the small open window of the hut, teased by the wind¡¯s capricious power.

    Blanchette¡­

    The voice called from within the depths of her memories, a distant echo that tugged at her mind. Red¡¯s heart raced, and beads of sweat formed on her forehead, clinging to her like liquid diamonds. She clutched the edges of her red hooded cape, seeking solace in its familiar touch. When she stood at the door of the hut, she hesitated, caught between the haunting allure of the past and the uncertain present.

    Did she desire to go inside? She knew the hut was empty now. Grandma was gone. Yet, someone must have lit that candle.

    With a shaky hand, she reached for the doorknob. Its cold, rusty surface sent shivers down her spine. It had never been rusty when Grandma lived. As she pushed open the door, a heavy scent of blood filled her lungs, a nauseating miasma that threatened to overwhelm her. Her stomach twisted, and she had to lean on the wide-opened door, her eyes wide with shock. Covering her mouth and nose with her cape, she quickly surveyed the scene. Everything was a mess. Furniture was broken to pieces, and the walls and floor were covered in blood and fresh gore.

    Blanchette.

    The voice weakened, fading into her mind¡¯s depths. With caution, Red advanced, her attention captivated by the bed at the room¡¯s far end. There, a steaming cup of tea sat on the night table, next to grandma¡¯s diary. Tears welled up in Red¡¯s eyes, blurring her vision as she gasped, unable to take a breath. Her gaze fell on the torn-up body of her beloved grandmother, a sight too horrifying to comprehend.

    She fell to her knees, her sobs wracking her body as the world twisted around her. In that moment of despair and inner turmoil, she caught the sound of his voice.

    ¡°Red¡­¡±

    She turned back, her tear-stained eyes meeting the gaze of a wolf with dark silver fur and fierce golden eyes. It growled, baring its teeth, its snout smeared with fresh blood. As it moved closer to Red, she heard his deep voice calling her name again, rising above the sinister growling of the killer that had taken her grandma.

    ¡°Dave?¡±

    Her voice was barely above a whisper, shaken, irritating the wolf facing her.

    In her frozen state, her pulse was pounding in her ears. It was clear to her that there was nothing she could do. She was staring into the eyes of her Death.

    ¡°Red!¡± he yelled from some place far away.

    ¡°Where are you, Dave¡­¡± she whispered, and the moment a singular cold tear rolled down her cheek, the wolf lunged, aiming for her neck.

    ¡°Red!¡±

 Chapter Three - Small Town

    ¡°Dave!¡±

    Her trembling voice shattered the silence of the night. She was sweating, taking in quick, shallow breaths, and her heart raced as she sat on the ground, Dave just inches away, holding her by her shoulder. With a long sigh, she glanced around. Joaquin lay a few feet away, deep in his slumber. Just below her feet, the remnants of a firepit glowed in hues of orange. With a swift gesture, she swept the beads of sweat from her forehead.

    Just a dream.

    She remembered the moments before sleep claimed her. Dave had appeared at the sunset, a rabbit slung over his shoulder. They settled down, Joaquin gathering wood, Dave skinning the rabbit and impaling it for cooking, and she prepared some herbs from her bag to enhance the meal. Joaquin entertained them with a story while the meat sizzled, and they fell asleep after eating.

    She couldn¡¯t help but smile as she took in the depth and warmth of Dave¡¯s gray eyes.

    ¡°Thank you¡­¡±

    Her head tilted to observe his hand, not letting go of her shoulder. When she looked into his eyes again, goosebumps rippled across her skin. He had never gazed at her in this manner. She had grown accustomed to his intense stares, but this one seemed different, more thirsty.

    Slowly lowering his gaze from her eyes, he traced a path down to her neck, her chest, and beyond.

    ¡°That dream again?¡± he asked, releasing his grip on her shoulder and meeting her gaze once more.

    She nodded, her lips slightly parted, and she could feel the heat rising in her face. Grateful for the night, she blushed, hidden by darkness.

    Rising to his feet, he stretched his arms overhead, causing his shirt to rise and expose the defined contours of his stomach.

    ¡°Wanna take a walk?¡±

    She nodded again, her movements graceful as she rose to her feet. Before leaving, she glanced at the sleeping bard and followed Dave into the woods.

    Vivid images from her nightmare continued to flash before her eyes. Yet, with each step she took next to Dave, the feeling of serenity grew stronger, enveloping her in a sense of peace. They took small, leisurely steps, savoring the shared silence.

    Red pondered about his emotions. His feelings towards her and these moments were a mystery to her. Despite the passing of time, they remained distant. And she couldn¡¯t help but perceive that he was the one upholding the wall between them. Still, she noticed subtle changes taking place within him.

    ¡°Do you feel better?¡± he asked, his deep voice shattering the web of her thoughts, pulling her back to the present moment.

    ¡°Much better. Thank you, Dave.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to thank me that much. It wasn¡¯t easy to wake you up.¡±

    He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips.

    ¡°It was intense this time. The dream seemed to wrap around me, tangible and vivid,¡± she confessed.

    ¡°I see.¡±

    His tone was a low rumble that resonated through the quiet night. With a deft motion, he lit the tip of his cigarette; the ember casting a soft, flickering glow on his features.

    ¡°It¡¯s been so long since this dream visited me. I dared to hope it had abandoned me forever,¡± she said.

    With a sigh that conveyed both relief and apprehension, she huddled into her coat, trying to ward off the chilly gusts that were creeping in.

    Dave paused, leaning casually against a tree, the smoke swirling around him like an ethereal shroud. The night forest whispered its secrets, leaves rustling in time with their breaths.

    ¡°Some things, Red, are not meant to be forgotten,¡± he remarked, his voice carrying an unexpected weight.

    Her gaze lifted, her eyes tracing the sharp lines of his profile. In this sincere moment, she marveled at the enigmatic tapestry of emotions playing across his face. It was a rare glimpse, a flicker of something deeper than she¡¯d ever seen.

    Guilt?

    No, that couldn¡¯t be. Dave was a man of conviction. She understood the reasons behind his actions and his choices. There was no room for grudges.

    Or was there?

    This simple thought ignited a series of flashing memories stained with blood and pain, dancing behind her closed eyelids. How could she not harbor a grudge? He was the one responsible for her death. And even tried to ¡ª

    ¡°Have you learned anything from the bard?¡± he inquired, drawing her back from the chasm of her thoughts.

    His eyes held hers, a quiet understanding passing between them.

    ¡°Nothing. But I have hope. He told me a few interesting stories. Either he is traveling for quite some time and heard them somewhere or he has some special source of inspiration, let¡¯s say.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just ask? Show him the amulet.¡±

    She swayed her head from side to side, her hair cascading, resembling a waterfall of silk.

    Dave¡¯s nose caught the fragrance of her sweat. Time had painted her with a more mature fragrance, a transformation subtle yet profound. Despite her body remaining unchanged since they met, something in her shifted. And this new Red was slowly getting under his skin.

    ¡°Not yet,¡± she said.

    Stepping out into the night, she sensed Dave¡¯s presence trailing behind.

    ¡°He seems nice,¡± she continued, ¡°but his charm may be deceiving us both. It¡¯s a bard after all. And bards are brilliant manipulators and thieves. It would be unfortunate to wake up and discover his absence and our missing possessions.¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    A chuckle rumbled in Dave¡¯s chest.

    ¡°We would find him and I would twist his neck.¡±

    She met his gaze with a playful smirk.

    ¡°Ah, but that¡¯s what I wish to avoid. He holds knowledge I seek, and I¡¯d rather it be spoken than silenced.¡±

    ¡°I trust you, Red. Just be cautious.¡±

    ¡°Cautious?¡±

    Her brows arched in mock surprise.

    ¡°Yes. You always see the best in everyone.¡±

    The annoyance in his tone made the corners of her lips quirk into a teasing smile but said nothing back.

    They returned to their resting spot, Joaquin undisturbed in his peaceful dream. Red settled in, her hood cocooning her.

    ¡°Dave?¡± she breathed into the night.

    ¡°What?¡±

    He just found his place nearby, sitting down and leaning into a tree.

    ¡°Those things, not meant to be forgotten¡­¡±

    ¡°What about them?¡±

    Barely holding her tears back, she hoped he wouldn¡¯t catch it in her voice.

    ¡°They can still be forgiven.¡±

    ¡°You should sleep, Red.¡±

    His voice carried the hint of a growl.

    As her eyes closed, her heart danced to a steady beat, a gentle lullaby that lulled her into tranquility. Though she knew anger was her right, she remained devoid of it. Someday, perhaps, he¡¯d find peace as well, and the chaos in his mind would finally settle.

    ???

    Welcome to Hert! A worn sign greeted them at the entrance to a small town. They had been traveling this dusty road for half an hour, the verdant canopy of the forest receding, its vibrant embrace now a memory. It had been four days since they rescued Joaquin, and he was visibly filled with joy as they neared the first houses on the outskirts. Even Red¡¯s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

    ¡°I can¡¯t wait to take a hot bath,¡± she said.

    Only Dave was not enjoying himself. Upon entering, he was rubbing his nose and lighted a cigarette.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been to much stinkier places, Dave.¡±

    Red poked him to his side. She smelled it as well. The air bore a pungent symphony of sweat, mingled with the earthy tang of horse and cow excrement, and the sharp hint of urine¡ªa melange characteristic of a town deeply tethered to its livestock.

    ¡°Sure, but it¡¯s been a while. I forgot how bad it can be,¡± he muttered under his breath.

    The few town guards, their armor dull and their gaze indifferent, offered the travelers little heed. It bore the mark of underpaid labor, a workforce that stirred only when compelled. In towns like this, shadows whispered of lurking thieves and cunning swindlers.

    ¡°I wonder if luck will allow me to afford a new lute and clothes.¡±

    Joaquin was looking around, ashamed of his torn-up attire.

    They passed the first houses and stables in a few minutes, reaching the outer circle of the city center filled with stalls and a group of housewives bartering their everyday needs with fellow sellers. Few of them noticed our trio, their eyes falling upon Dave.

    Your husbands should see your stares now.

    He thought to himself as he surveyed the area, then gestured towards an old wooden building.

    ¡°There, Hertz Inn.¡±

    ¡°A poetic name. And nice wordplay, too.¡±

    Red swept her bangs and stepped out towards it.

    Joaquin, before taking a step, cleared his throat. Loud enough for them to hear it.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Dave asked, piercing him with an annoying look.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any coin to spend. For such luxuries as bed and bath.¡±

    Red looked at him reproachingly.

    ¡°Oh, Joaquin. Are you trying to offend us? Do you honestly think we would let you beg for money after the incredible days we¡¯ve shared? Come, it¡¯s our treat.¡±

    Joaquin¡¯s face lightened up. Upon reaching the town, fear gripped him as he realized they might go their separate ways, despite the amazing time they had together. Especially with Red, since Dave paid him very little attention, mostly scouting ahead on his own and bringing hunted animals towards the evening.

    But with Red, they talked and sang a lot the past few days. She was a likable companion. They have shared little of their personal lives. But the shared joy from music befriended them. She hummed melodies, and he sang the lyrics. While falling asleep, he often wondered why Dave was traveling with her, or she with him. But he also noticed the way they exchanged looks while eating. Despite their brief interactions, their connection was profound and tangible. Also, the tension between them was enigmatic. It reminded him of unspoken passion, yet something more raw and wild excluded from them.

    He bowed, an elegant gesture of a true noble, strands of his dark hair falling to his face.

    ¡°I will be forever in your debt, Lady Red, and Dave. Standing here, I can promise that if the time of need finds you, you can seek my audience.¡±

    Dave turned his head, rolling his eyes, the smoke from the cigarette swirling around him. This fabulous mannerism the bard showed was irritating him. But he was slightly taken aback as he noticed her reaction. She smiled, accompanied by a slight bow of her head. But it wasn¡¯t just a smile. He detected a sly glint in her eyes. She knew something about the bard he hadn¡¯t noticed yet.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take you by your word, Joaquin,¡± she said. ¡°Now, let¡¯s find a room, eat, and bathe.¡±

    With those words escaping her lips, she turned on her heel and continued towards the inn.

    Upon entering, an alluring melange of cooked pork, rich garlic, and the warm undertone of beer enveloped their senses. Except for a few barflies, their eyes bloodshot and their noses ruddy, the inn was relatively empty.

    A young lad, scarcely fourteen years old, stood behind the counter, his white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a black vest attesting to his readiness for the bustling inn. His greeting was accompanied by a wide smile and a tone that blended youthful exuberance with practiced charm.

    ¡°Welcome to my Hertz! How can I help you? You came just in time. The pork nearly finished, a fine cook of my father with garlic and honey mustard, best served with our own-made Hertz beer.¡±

    Well-spoken and memorized lines he must have said multiple times during the day. Still, his enthusiasm was pure.

    ¡°Greetings, young innkeeper. I want the whole pork to be ready at that table.¡± Red said, gesturing towards one in the corner and then opened her shoulder bag.

    ¡°Also, three pints of your Hertz beer. And three rooms for the night.¡±

    ¡°Six nights,¡± Dave said, tipping his cigarette to the cinder box resting on the counter.

    Red shot him a surprised look. He locked eyes with her, his gaze unwavering. Initially, she couldn¡¯t comprehend his logic, but then he took a deep sniff with one nostril, and a wave of warmth washed over her, causing her cheeks to blush like a blooming rose.

    ¡°Six then,¡± she said, her eyes fixed on the wood of the bar.

    ¡°Wow, alright, ma¡¯am. The meal will be ready in ten minutes. Here are your keys. Rooms are upstairs, back in the hall. If you require anything else, let me know.¡±

    ¡°How much?¡± Dave asked. ¡°We also want a bath in all three rooms after the meal. One,¡± he took one key and checked the number, ¡°in room thirteen, especially hot.¡±

    A slight confusion appeared on the innkeeper¡¯s face.

    ¡°Not meant to be rude, sir. But we have plumbing in this town. So, you can easily take care of the bath yourself.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­¡±

    Dave sighed, tension visible on his face, his eyes searching for comfort in Red¡¯s expression. She barely contained laughter. Joaquin was surprised by the sight, and by Dave¡¯s assumption about towns lacking sewer systems.

    ¡°He didn¡¯t mean to offend you or your inn, young master,¡± Red intervened with a polite smile. ¡°He is from a tiny village in the east, so he forgets that the world has progressed already.¡±

    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s fine. I understand. Well then, six nights, the meal, and beers. That¡¯s twenty Lavinoir coins, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Red retrieved a pouch from her bag and paid, generously adding extra for the boy.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be right back,¡± she said while grabbing one key, and without lifting her gaze from the ground, she hastened towards the stairs.

    Joaquin looked at Dave with raised eyebrows. But Dave didn¡¯t bother to explain much.

    ¡°Let¡¯s sit down and wait for the food. She will come back soon.¡±

    He would have remained silent if he had any inkling of the impending storm, ensuring their departure the next day. Or it wouldn¡¯t change his mind at all. In truth, without him realizing it, Red¡¯s well-being was far more important to him than the danger they would encounter eventually either way.

 Chapter Four - Jalut

    With each note echoing through the vast space, the ballroom was enveloped in the melodic resonance of the grand piano. The long, crimson braid, a cascade of vibrant threads, swayed subtly in harmony with her graceful movements. The Three Sisters cast their ethereal light through the lofty windows, their glow delicately reflecting upon her naked body like a celestial dance.

    With her eyes gently closed, she immersed herself in the music, her focus devoted to the frigid keys beneath her delicate fingers. Beads of sweat remained on her, meandering along the curves of her body in search of gravity. Each deep breath expanded her chest in rhythmic cadence, adding a sensual layer to the symphony of the room.

    In the shadows, Anubis silently observed her, his gaze mirroring the deep, impenetrable blackness of his jacket as he buttoned it up. In the darkness, his tall, pointed ears stood out like the horns of a mythical demon.

    The clock¡¯s hands showed it was just past eleven at night. Near an unfinished painting on an easel, her black lace dress lay forgotten on the ground.

    His senses, once again overwhelmed by her scent, an elusive mixture that reached his nose, reignited a passion not easily subdued.

    Even after his recent satisfaction, an irresistible urge coursed through him. The desire to act¡ªto stealthily approach from behind, to grasp her shoulders, to inhale her, to relish the fiery aroma of her hair, to explore her neck with the tip of his tongue, and to tenderly massage her shoulders, his touch descending just above her chest before his long, dark fingers would embrace her pink nipples.

    As the first step towards this intoxicating daydream materialized, a weighty knock on the door reverberated through the air. In an instant, she ceased playing. Lifting her head, the green eyes of hers met his hungry, golden amber stare. A coy smile graced her lips.

    ¡°Enter,¡± he growled, fingers fixing the intricate, dark purple cravat adorned with delicate patterns.

    Pierre walked in immediately, executing a flawless bow.

    ¡°Sir, the mercenary has arrived, requesting your audience.¡±

    Perfect.

    ¡°Bring him to my office. I¡¯ll be right there.¡±

    When the servant left, the Bad Wolf moved towards the pianist, fingers strong yet gentle as he grasped her shoulders, inhaling the fragrance of her hair¡ªa subtle blend of lavender and the faintest hint of jasmine.

    ¡°You, Isabelle, wait in my master bedroom. Tonight, we will be together.¡±

    She offered a slight nod. Upon his release, she rose gracefully, the echoes of a distant melody still lingering in the air. With a deliberate touch, she closed the softly illuminated piano lid, picked up her clothes, and began dressing. Anubis had departed without a word.

    A disappointed sigh escaped her lips as she looked up at the canvas. He paid no attention to it, and the quiet hope woven into each stroke.

    When she was younger, she immersed herself in dreams of music, yearning for the touch that birthed melodies and stories and nothing else. Yet lately, her deepest longings transcended the ivory keys, reaching for the velvety softness of his fur. Their shared song echoed in her mind, a melody that intertwined with their intimate dances. While Isabelle understood the essence of her master, she also glimpsed the potential within him. What poor Isabelle remained blind to was the recurring fate shared by those who dared to dream as she did, a cycle destined for the same inevitable conclusion.

    ???

    Jalut followed the old servant, the echo of their footsteps echoing through the opulent halls of Bad Wolf¡¯s mansion. Pierre sensed the natural authority of a skilled, fearless warrior emanating from behind him.

    Bald, clad in flexible, high-quality leather armor that faintly creaked with each deliberate movement, he cut a tall, lean figure with the lithe grace of an assassin. At a height of almost two meters, his fair skin and smooth-shaved face highlighted his slim facial features. His small blue eyes scanned the surroundings with a keen intensity, absorbing every detail.

    This once young, handsome woodcutter, led by destiny down the path of becoming a well-known mercenary, earned a reputation as a dependable contractor. Despite the high demand for his talents among well-established mercenary groups, he worked solo, selecting clients of his own accord.

    He had once been part of a larger group, gaining valuable fighting skills and knowledge. Yet, the only thing he yearned for kept escaping despite all the promises made upon joining A Perfect Circle. After seven years of drastic training and missions, he left, carrying the scar of the group¡¯s mark on his back, a constant reminder of his former affiliation.

    The servant stopped before a double-winged door, knocking firmly. Jalut straightened his posture. It was his first encounter with the Bad Wolf. While he held disdain for those who hired him¡ªcorrupted aristocrats and cowardly nobles¡ªAnubis was a different breed. Not simply because of his festayan nature or his infamous power and heartlessness. All mobsters were cruel, but Anubis was special. Back in the group, he heard stories of his exceptional fighting and fencing skills, his strength capable of subduing multiple opponents with bare hands.

    ¡°Enter.¡±

    Bad Wolf¡¯s voice, a deep growl, carried from behind the entrance as the servant opened it promptly.

    ¡°Your guest, sir. Please, Mr. Jalut, come in.¡±

    With a nod, the mercenary entered. As soon as his feet crossed the doorstep, Pierre closed the door, leaving him alone with Anubis.

    The office was filled with a gentle, flickering glow as many candles hung from a wrought-iron chandelier, casting a warm and subtle radiance throughout the space. An ethereal ambiance was painted in the room, as the interplay of light and shadow created an atmosphere that whispered concealed secrets and veiled intrigues.

    A mixture of the fragrance of aged leather and polished oak filled the air, blending with the faint scent coming from the candles. The occasional crackle of the candle flames provided a soothing undertone, punctuating the silence with a delicate symphony of light and sound.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    As the flames danced, they cast intricate patterns on the dark, velvety walls adorned with an eclectic array of artworks. Each piece held its own silent tale¡ªdepicting forgotten landscapes, enigmatic figures, and scenes that beckoned the viewer into a realm of fantasy.

    ¡°Mr. Jalut, I appreciate your prompt reaction and arrival. Please have a seat.¡±

    Bad Wolf gestured towards two majestic chairs positioned in front of his desk.

    ¡°I prefer standing. Those chairs look fragile and valuable. I don¡¯t want to start our collaboration with a debt, sir.¡±

    ¡°As you wish,¡± he grinned, finding the tall man¡¯s voice amusingly melodic for a skilled killer¡ªa harmonious baritone with vibrato.

    ¡°I found your way of speaking quite sophisticated for a mercenary. Those who recommended your services didn¡¯t mention this quality of yours while praising many others, of course.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps I was not as polite towards them as I¡¯m to you, sir. Not everyone deserves equal treatment.¡±

    A short, sinister laugh escaped Anubis¡¯s mouth.

    ¡°I must say, you truly know your way with words. But let¡¯s not get lost in unnecessary formalities.¡±

    He sat in his chair and continued.

    ¡°I have a special job for you.¡±

    While comfortably leaning back, tapping his long nails on the desk, he explained every detail about Joaquin¡¯s recent whereabouts. The moment he mentioned the massacred group, especially the part about the torn bodies, Jalut¡¯s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

    ¡°Do you think you can handle this?¡± Anubis asked.

    ¡°With pleasure, sir. It¡¯s been a long while since having such an uncommon opponent.¡±

    ¡°Any idea who could it be?¡±

    Jalut caressed his sharp chin with a few elegant swings of his hand.

    ¡°Not specifically. No name or face comes to mind. But I¡¯m sure I know what kind I¡¯m dealing with.¡±

    ¡°Good. I¡¯m counting on your success. With the gold I¡¯ve already spent, this might be the last attempt with a possible positive income. And remember, he must survive. Unscratched. The choice is yours regarding those who took him. I don¡¯t care. I prefer them dead, but you can do as you please. Remember, the bard¡¯s survival is crucial.¡±

    ¡°Understood, sir.¡±

    They briefly discussed other matters before Jalut promptly left to attend to his duties.

    The Bad Wolf, while being satisfied, felt a hint of uneasiness.

    What if¡­

    He chased the thought away before it could form completely. Jalut was a former member of A Perfect Circle. Those lunatics took so many enhancing drugs, herbs, and potions that they were unkillable.

    While loosening his cravat, he left for his bedroom.

    Her pretty, pale, and innocent face cast a soft glow in the dim, moonlit room. The Three Sisters¡¯ gentle radiance, filtering through the open window, painted a silvery sheen over her black lace lingerie. Her loose hair cascaded like a crimson veil over one side.

    A deep, quiet growl reverberated against the walls, blending with the subtle symphony of the night. As he undressed, the cool air carried from the outside embraced his skin and fur, contrasting with the warmth of the place.

    For a fleeting moment, he considered letting her sleep undisturbed as the temptation to allow her repose tugged at him, but the reality of their roles dispelled the notion. She was not his woman, but a servant, and duty dictated that she serve her master when needed.

    ???

    When Red descended the stairs, the food they had ordered and the frosted mugs of beer already stood at the table. Dave occupied a solitary spot, and as she glanced around, she caught sight of Joaquin engaged in a lively exchange with three local inn-dwellers at the bar. A sly smirk played on her lips, and she shook her head in amusement before strolling toward their table. In the proximity, Dave, perceptive as ever, detected a faint, shy spark in her eyes.

    ¡°They just brought it, still steaming hot,¡± he said as she settled beside him.

    ¡°Perfect. The beer has a rich color, and the foam is luxuriously thick. Can you enlighten me on what Joaquin¡¯s up to over there?¡± she asked, inclining her head towards the bar.

    ¡°Gathering intel.¡±

    She gave him a reproachful look.

    ¡°You instructed him to do so, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°I only suggested gathering information about the town and its inhabitants would be wise. He said, Leave it to me, and off he went.¡±

    She released a sigh, a blend of exasperation and amusement. Dave had a knack for persuading others to do what he wanted.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± she said unexpectedly, pulling her pint closer.

    ¡°For waiting? Are we also going to wait for him? I¡¯m starving.¡±

    ¡°At first, I was mad. You could have been less blunt. ¡±

    ¡°Blunt?¡± he asked, raising his eyebrows, looking at her. ¡°Red, I bet no one has any idea what¡¯s going on and why I changed it to six nights instead of one.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know that. Someone could have overheard you.¡±

    She turned her head towards him, her eyes aflame.

    ¡°Red,¡± he said, his touch suddenly lingering on her thigh, higher than she would have expected or deemed appropriate. But Dave paid little attention to such details. At least he acted that way. ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Don¡¯t worry. No women were around, and men couldn¡¯t comprehend the reference.¡±

    He smiled and lifted his hand. Tension gripped her muscles, and heat flushed her cheeks under the gentle caress of his fingers.

    ¡°Next time, try to be more¡ª¡± she murmured, but he cut her off.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll be more considerate. Hush now; he¡¯s coming back.¡±

    ¡°Lady Red,¡± Joaquin greeted, sitting down with a wide smile. ¡°You finally joined us.¡±

    ¡°What have you learned?¡± Dave asked, glancing at Red, a jesting spark in his eye as he shrugged and grabbed his glass of beer.

    ¡°Few things, nothing special. A local seamstress can help me¡ªus, I mean, to provide clothes for some coin. But her little son is currently ill, and the local doctor doesn¡¯t know what¡¯s wrong with him. Additionally, we must watch out for Priego, a troublemaker in town. That¡¯s it.¡±

    ¡°Impressive, considering the size of the town. You¡¯re a talented spy, Joaquin,¡± Red said and raised her pint with a smile. ¡°To the future.¡±

    Joaquin followed suit, raising his beer, and returned the smile.

    ¡°To the future and future adventures.¡±

    He glanced at Dave, who was lighting a cigarette but managed to raise his apathetically.

    After the toast, they all relished the meal. Joaquin, along with Red, expressed their satisfaction aloud, while Dave, though not as enthused, silently consumed more than the two of them combined. They leisurely finished their beers, engaging in conversation. Bard and Red shared laughter. When the innkeeper arrived to collect their plates, Dave tried to avoid his gaze.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan after we¡¯re done with the bath? I can¡¯t wait to wash off the dirt.¡± Joaquin said as the young boy was leaving.

    ¡°We?!¡±

    Dave raised his eyebrows.

    Red, with cheeks pink from the strong, dark beverage, playfully slapped him over the shoulder.

    ¡°We will rest,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s noon already. We should wash our clothes, and tomorrow we can check the market. Pay a visit to the seamstress. At least Joaquin could use a new attire worthy of a bard. We should buy other necessities too.¡±

    Dave nodded at her every word. Joaquin, though he¡¯d prefer spending the rest of the day drinking and singing, understood the situation. He was still indebted to them. And torn clothes, but clean ones, were more appealing than dirty ones. And proper sleep in a bed was a relief after days on the ground.

    ¡°Alright then. As you command, my friends. Thank you again for your kind help and the fantastic treat. Have a restful sleep and enjoy the rest of your day. ¡±

    ¡°You too, Joaquin,¡± Red said and smiled at him while standing up from the table.

    Dave followed her. All three ascended the stairs to their rooms, relishing in the hot baths, washing their clothes, and relaxing in solitude. Thoughts swirled about songs and luck. Some were about touch and loneliness. And some about a long-lost family.

 Chapter Five - Seamstress

    ¡°Although I would gladly assist, my son Valik is very ill. Right now, I can¡¯t focus on work. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Her voice, feeble and strained, barely carried through the air. She was pale, and her visible cheekbones hinted at malnutrition. Clouded and weary, her gray-blue eyes stared out from a tired face marked by dark eye bags from sleepless nights.

    A single mother.

    Red empathized with the woman. She was dressed simply but neatly, her clothes clean. It didn¡¯t matter that she was the only seamstress in town when most of the clientele were poorer than her, offering food rather than coins. The other townsfolk cared for their clothes instead of spending money on new ones.

    ¡°I understand, ma¡¯am¡ª¡±

    Red, being polite, shot a glance at Dave, who stood right behind her with Joaquin, as he interrupted her with a loud sniff.

    ¡°Is there any way we can help?¡± she asked.

    Such an offer visibly took aback the seamstress.

    ¡°A¡ªah. T¡ªthank you. But the doctor has already been here. However, the medicine he gave Valik isn¡¯t helping at all.¡±

    Her grip around the old doorknob tightened as her gaze fell. The burden of a sick child fading in front of a mother¡¯s eyes is one of the heaviest.

    For a quick moment, Dave leaned towards Red and whispered something in her ear. As he withdrew, a faint smile curved her lips, and she continued with the conversation.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am, I understand how you feel. I have a younger brother, Cedrick. He was frequently sick, as far as I can remember. He was a fragile little boy. Once it was really serious, and the doctor¡¯s medicine wasn¡¯t working. However, his condition took a turn for the better when he started taking the doctor¡¯s wife¡¯s herbal remedy. Witnessing it was so inspiring that I decided to pursue the study of herbology.¡±

    ¡°You studied herbology?¡± the seamstress asked, lifting her head, and her eyes, playing with a new gentle flame of hope, met Red¡¯s.

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Red nodded with a warm smile.

    ¡°At Narzum University.¡±

    ¡°Narzum?!¡±

    The change in atmosphere and the seamstress¡¯s attitude were clear. Even Joaquin had a hard time keeping his face straight upon learning such a fact suddenly. He slowly turned his head to look at Dave, trying to seem as natural as possible. But Dave paid him no attention.

    Narzum was a well-known and highly respected university among all countries on the continent. Even people from beyond the seas were attending it. The kingdom of Saggezza Fedele built its whole glory and history around its university and the status of being the land of scholars. Everyone, even folks in small towns, heard of it. Parents wished their child would become a student there and graduate to earn the ring. The idea of Red attending it seemed crazy. She was young. And Sagezza Fedele lay across the continent.

    ¡°I have my graduate ring here. Give me a second,¡± Red paused, then pulled a massive ring from her bag.

    It was made of white gold and featured the Narzum crest¡ªa book and two crossed keys. Joaquin¡¯s legs nearly buckled beneath him.

    ¡°Here.¡±

    Red held out the ring for the seamstress to examine.

    ¡°While my friends go to the market and buy other things we need for our travel, I can check on your son, ma¡¯am. In herbology, we learn about various illnesses, so we better understand how each herb works and why. Maybe I will recognize something the doctor has overlooked.¡±

    Dave glanced at Joaquin, who had a lingering question in his eyes. With a tilt of his head, Dave commanded him to leave. Then he turned and started walking away.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be at Hertz Inn,¡± he said, and Red nodded.

    Joaquin bowed slightly and followed him.

    ¡°She never mentioned that to me,¡± the bard said, once they were far from the seamstress¡¯s home.

    ¡°What exactly?¡± Dave smirked.

    ¡°That she studied at Narzum.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know many things, bard.¡±

    ¡°I hope she will be able to help that poor woman.¡±

    Dave said nothing back, so Joaquin was left with his thoughts. He knew Dave wouldn¡¯t be the fount of information to satisfy his curiosity.

    Narzum University.

    Countless stories and legends circulated about that place. It was the continent¡¯s sole university, perhaps globally, maintaining the tradition of sharing knowledge of magic and mysticism. At least, real magic, not the fancy magic stuff from stories and mythologies. But all fields they taught shaped the greatest minds. Mathematics, biology, economy. However, getting through their entrance exams was extremely hard. He had met no one brave enough to attend, let alone graduate from there.

    Joaquin sighed, put his hands in his pockets, and a wide smile adorned his face.

    These two are truly something else.

    A real blessing for someone like him. He knew traveling with them would ignite his creative spark. Now, he dared to believe these two would inspire the greatest ballad ever told.

    ???

    ¡°Where is Dave?¡±

    Red¡¯s voice, a symphony laced with nuanced notes of exhaustion and concern, resonated in the ambient warmth of Hertz Inn.

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    Joaquin, ensconced at the bar, savored the depths of a dark beer. The hushed voices of regular evening guests murmuring tales of the day¡¯s trials and triumphs while enjoying their after-work drinks were creating a familiar melody in the background. The graceful turn of the bard¡¯s head released a cascade of unruly curls into the air, a fleeting dance that framed his pale, shaved face embellished by a frothy, white mustache. Red¡¯s eyes, though weary, held a playful glint of amusement.

    ¡°Lady Red, finally. The sun is already setting down. I was getting worried. Have you spent the whole day with the seamstress?¡±

    Red nodded wearily and eased into the chair beside him. The ritual of unbuttoning her crimson cape unfolded as if it were a silent performance, the fabric cascading down her shoulders with a soft rustle onto the bar chair, punctuated by an involuntary yawn.

    ¡°I asked something first,¡± she said.

    ¡°Ah, yes, sorry.¡±

    The bard¡¯s gaze lingered on her features, a subtle puzzle unraveling in his mind. Did Red¡¯s allure increase daily, or was it the beer¡¯s essence? Or had she been this enchanting all along, hidden beneath the veneer of stress and circumstance? Maybe her exhaustion made her appear delicate and feminine.

    ¡°Something on my face?¡± Red teased, and another yawn followed.

    ¡°Something pretty, but it was there this whole time, my lady.¡±

    It was in Joaquin¡¯s nature to be a maestro of charm, a role he embraced effortlessly.

    Red, subdued by fatigue, offered less resistance than usual and felt warmth spreading on her face. Also, the directness he employed was a rarity in her interactions with men.

    ¡°Joaquin.¡±

    She elongated the name with a tone that carried both playfulness and reproach.

    ¡°Well, it is true. As for Dave, the mystery of his whereabouts eludes me. He graced me with this beer, promising a swift return. A mere ten minutes have passed since his departure. I thought he might be in search of you.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°Anything for you, madam?¡± the young innkeeper asked as he emerged from the kitchen and right away paid attention to his freshly arrived guest.

    ¡°I guess it¡¯s time for dinner. What do you have, Mr.?¡±

    ¡°Grilled chicken breasts, legs, and wings with mushrooms and potatoes, or a beef soup with vegetables, madam.¡±

    ¡°Mmm, beef soup sounds wonderful. How about you, Joaquin? Will you dine with me?¡±

    ¡°Sure. Eh, soup is fine,¡± he said in a hushed voice.

    ¡°Fine, you mean cheaper?¡±

    She poked him in the thigh, and a wave of shame washed over him for his feeble attempt to conceal it.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s¡ªI mean.¡±

    He scratched his neck.

    ¡°You and Dave have already done so much for me.¡±

    ¡°Joaquin.¡±

    She turned towards him, her hand gently resting on his shoulder.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to feel bad. Both Dave and I earn enough coin. Eating less or cheap won¡¯t aid anyone.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡±

    ¡°No buts. You¡¯ve already been of great help. Asking about the seamstress and gathering information are valuable contributions. You do what you can within your situation. So, relax.¡±

    Her smile, radiant and cheerful, illuminated the space, though the weariness in her drooping eyelids betrayed her lack of energy.

    ¡°I promise I¡¯ll repay your kindness. To both of you.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    She tapped him on the shoulder and turned back to the young innkeeper.

    ¡°I¡¯d like one big bowl of soup and chicken breasts with all the other stuff for my friend here.¡±

    ¡°Right away, madam.¡±

    ¡°So,¡± Joaquin began, his voice weaving through the air with a delicate uncertainty. ¡°What about the kid?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yes. It was intoxication. The seamstress had symptoms as well.¡±

    ¡°Intoxication by what? Food?¡±

    ¡°Stachybotrys chartarum.¡±

    ¡°What in the abyss is that?!¡±

    Joaquin¡¯s eyebrows shot upwards, and he almost spat out his beer.

    ¡°A kind of invasive species.¡±

    Red directed her attention towards him, her tone low and serious.

    ¡°It lives in dark, humid areas, spreads fast, and can easily kill. It produces a poison that causes dizziness, vomiting, and tiredness.¡±

    ¡°W¡ªwow. Wait, did someone take care of that? Have you spoken to the guards or the city mayor?¡±

    Red started giggling. Joaquin was pale and visibly shaken.

    ¡°W¡ªwhat¡¯s so funny?¡±

    ¡°It was mold, Joaquin. A black mold, to be precise.¡±

    ¡°Mold?! They were poisoned by mold? You made it sound like some kind of dangerous creature.¡±

    ¡°Well, it kinda is. All things considered, it is alive. It grows and reproduces. It can spread pretty fast if not dealt with, and inhaling consistently leads to poisoning and can easily cause death.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why the doctor¡¯s medicine was not working? The kid was not sick; he was poisoned. And persistently breathing it.¡± Joaquin mused as he took a large sip from his beer and looked at Red with awe.

    This is song material. A slight dramatic change will give it a nice twist. Mold¡­

    ¡°Yes, but he will be fine now,¡± Red said with a smile after she let out another enormous yawn and stretched in her chair.

    With the movement as she spread her arms to the roof, her shirt enveloped her curves. Joaquin, affected by beer, couldn¡¯t resist inspecting her figure, especially her full chest.

    ¡°After I checked the boy,¡± Red continued, undisturbed by Joaquin¡¯s rude stare he thought she hadn¡¯t noticed.

    To some extent, she enjoyed his attention. Because of her journey with Dave, she had little to no opportunity for flirting.

    ¡°His mother led me to the basement, and because I knew what I was looking for, we swiftly found it. I explained to her the situation, and after a while, she got a few neighbors in who helped us clean it properly and carefully. I gave her tips on how to keep the area safe and gifted her a fistful of herbs to fight the intoxication. But even with the help of others, getting rid of it safely was difficult, that¡¯s why it took so long. She was so nice and grateful she offered me lunch and also gave us a discount for clothes we needed from her. Tomorrow, we¡¯ll go to get measured, but I won¡¯t accept her discount. She needs coin more than we.¡±

    As Red spoke, she rested her head in her hand, leaning on the bar counter, and Joaquin listened to her with an open mouth.

    ¡°Here it is, madam, your soup. Enjoy your meal,¡± the bartender said.

    With equal politeness, the innkeeper served Joaquin a plate of chicken before attending to the other guests.

    ¡°Bon app¨¦tit, Joaquin.¡±

    With the first spoonful of the beef soup, a delightful warmth permeated her whole body. The rich flavors embraced her taste buds, and the tender chunks of beef melted effortlessly. The vegetables added a delightful earthiness, creating a harmonious balance of textures. It was a journey through a comforting blend of seasoned perfection, temporarily soothing the weariness that clung to her bones. Red closed her eyes, relishing the moment, as the aroma of the meal enveloped her senses, transporting her to a place of culinary delight.

    ¡°To you too, lady Red. Also, you look tired.¡±

    Maybe I should offer a shoulder massage after dinner.

    Amidst pleasant thoughts of an evening with Red, a disturbing image of Dave beating him to death flashed through his mind. Despite not displaying any interest in her, and with Red stating they were merely travel companions, Joaquin sensed that the bond between them was not something ordinary or something to carelessly tamper with. However, he would love to mess up her long, chestnut hair.

    ¡°Ah, yes, I am. The boy, Valik, was in such an awful state that I had to¡ª¡± she stopped, and her relaxed expression narrowed.

    ¡°You had to what?¡± Joaquin asked carefully.

    He knew the hesitation he just noticed in her speech very well. He almost learned something he wasn¡¯t supposed to.

    ¡°I had to prepare a complicated potion for him, to clean his organism. Also, getting rid of that mold was exhausting, and even though I used a scarf to protect myself, I definitely breathed in some toxins. But don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯ll finish my soup and go get some rest.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll truly be alright? Shouldn¡¯t I go with you and¡­¡±

    She turned towards him with a warm smile and reached with her hand toward his face. He was taken aback by such action, but as she wiped off the rest of his foam mustache and chuckled, the corners of his lips fell before they both started laughing.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Wait here for Dave. Curious about the outcome, he¡¯ll come to wake me up in my room.¡±

    With these words, she returned to her soup and continued eating. When she finished, she gave her thanks to the innkeeper and went straight up to her room.

    Joaquin found himself alone once more, with swirling thoughts of new knowledge and unanswered questions. He wondered what, and if something, Red was hiding from him.

    Was it really just a mold? Why did she hesitate when talking about helping the boy? And what was Dave whispering to her outside the seamstress¡¯s house?

    Consumed by thoughts, he didn¡¯t notice Dave coming back. Not just that. It took him quite a while to realize he was sitting next to him, staring, and holding something he would never expect him to bring. Oh, and how delicately he cradled it, as if it were a priceless gem, which it truly was to Joaquin.

 Chapter Six - Claddagh

    Her heart raced, and her quick steps matched the beat. Confusion, surprise, and curiosity played on her face.

    When she woke up, a loud murmur from downstairs caught her attention. Initially, she ignored it, but the moment she heard a lute blending with Joaquin¡¯s voice, she hurried out of her room.

    Joaquin strolled between the tables, singing and playing with a lively step. The inn was packed, and the young innkeeper hustled to serve everyone.

    I bet the inn has never been this full.

    Red¡¯s laughter, a soft melody in the lively atmosphere, bubbled up as she scanned the bustling room for Dave.

    Energetic children weaved through the tables, their laughter and the clinking of glasses blending with the melody of a distant song. It took her a while to spot him amid the animated crowd, nestled at a far corner table.

    She navigated through the lively scene with nimble, cautious steps, ensuring not to disrupt the joyous chaos around her. Upon reaching him, the expected scene unfolded¡ªhe sat alone, an enigmatic silhouette, exhaling wisps of smoke that added an extra layer of mystery to his aura, a thug unwilling to be disturbed.

    ¡°May I join you?¡±

    She bowed with a playful grace, lifting an imaginary skirt in a whimsical gesture.

    ¡°I¡¯m guarding you a spot,¡± he said.

    She settled beside him, getting an optimal view of both Joaquin¡¯s performance and the entire ambiance.

    Did Dave pick this table on purpose? Was it to survey the area, or was he ensuring she¡¯d see Joaquin¡¯s performance?

    Don¡¯t be too na?ve, Blanchette.

    But the question lingered - was she figuring him out? Their journey was more out of necessity than choice. Still, he seemed to evanesce his attitude. What if ¡ª

    ¡°What can I bring you, ma¡¯am?¡±

    The young innkeeper snapped her back to the present, breaking the threads of her thoughts that were weaving a mental noose around her neck. He was sweaty, and breathing fast, but his joyous tone was clear.

    ¡°A pint of Hertz Beer. And something to eat. If there¡¯s anything left,¡± she said.

    ¡°Sure. Well, the meat¡¯s sold out, ma¡¯am. I¡¯m sorry. There are some potatoes, or we can serve you an omelet with bread or¡ª¡±

    ¡°Omelet sounds wonderful.¡±

    ¡°Alright. And for you, sir?¡±

    He glanced at her companion, veiled in gray smoke.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll be right back with your order, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Red nodded, her gaze fixated on the departing boy. Joaquin swayed in a dance, and a group of town kids joined in, their laughter harmonizing with the rhythm.

    ¡°That lute looks brand new,¡± she said, her eyes avoiding Dave¡¯s.

    He sighed, a plume of smoke escaping as he tipped his cigarette.

    ¡°Hm, you¡¯ve noticed. I¡¯m shocked.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s shocking that you actually bought it. I assumed it would fall on me to do so.¡±

    ¡°Wait. Where do you get that idea from? Anyone could have bought it. My bet is on the innkeeper; it must have already filled his pockets nicely.¡±

    She turned her head towards him, raised eyebrows delivering an amused look.

    ¡°Nice try.¡±

    He smirked, his fingers rubbing the tip of his nose.

    ¡°Joaquin informed me you were exhausted and needed to rest,¡± he said, his voice abruptly adopting a cold, reproachful tone.

    She averted his gaze, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

    ¡°We agreed,¡± he continued in a hushed voice, ¡°that you should refrain from such actions.¡±

    ¡°That kid was dying,¡± she hissed through her teeth, her eyes scanning the ground. ¡°Should I have let him?¡±

    ¡°You understand how dangerous it is, right?! We are in the kingdom of Lavinoir.¡±

    ¡°So? He was heavily intoxicated. Herbs and medicine wouldn¡¯t have saved him.¡±

    Her tone grew icier, irritated.

    ¡°I had to do it.¡±

    She shot him a quick stare, wet eyes piercing and cheeks flushed, before turning her gaze back to the floor.

    He leaned closer. Goosebumps traced over her skin as his lips caressed her ear. His breath, a delicate dance on her cheek and neck, stirred her senses. Her heart throbbed as she took in a deep, hushed breath, the air pulsating with unspoken tension.

    ¡°You did it because you wanted to. You know, the amulet is the only likely explanation we have so far. Magic is long gone. No one can wield it anymore. Damn, most folks have forgotten it ever existed. It is either the curse or you are special since only you still possess the ability to cast spells. Also, we know it takes a toll on you every time you do so. You are risking both our lives because we know almost nothing about its powers. Plus, we are currently in Lavinoir. You¡¯re aware of what they did to those few last who could use magic, aren¡¯t you? So, next time, if you don¡¯t want to kill us both or burn alive at some square while people yell profanities, stop surrendering to your urges, witch.¡±

    As he leaned back, she turned around, and their eyes met. His stare was as harsh as ever. However, her eyes burned with flame, too. The disgust he put into the word witch hit her in the heart. Her palms were sweaty, and her pupils were wide.

    In moments like this, she was mad at him. He acted as if he owned her. He had no right to dictate who she could save. In the end, it¡¯s his fault they are in this situation.

    No, it¡¯s not.

    She let out a heavy sigh, and her shoulders fell. The tension in her muscles was slowly loosening up.

    Did she truly believe he had changed? Even a bit? How could he be so cold after so many years they¡¯ve spent together? Would he let that kid die just to avoid risking his life?

    A few quiet moments later, when the innkeeper brought her beer and food, she was not mad anymore. She was disappointed.

    What Dave said was true. It¡¯s a mystery why she was the only one left with magical abilities. It¡¯s only a fragment of her former power, and every time she used it, it made her extremely exhausted. Still, it was a young, innocent life she saved today.

    Grandma would do the same.

    That¡¯s how she raised her. However, Grandma also did things she hadn¡¯t come to understand yet.

    Was it all her fault?

    No, she had already pondered this extensively. It¡¯s no one¡¯s fault. Everyone had acted the best they could that day. Everyone followed their own sense of right.

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    It¡¯s just how life works.

    The omelet was a symphony of flavors, the eggs perfectly seasoned and the aroma wafting through the air, complemented by the rich taste of the dark beer that helped her to calm her mind.

    Dave was silently watching her the whole time. He sensed the tension and the growing distance between them. And it was good that way. Despite this, he expected the gap to shrink again. It always did. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn¡¯t stop it. Either way, he had to at least attempt.

    In dangerous situations, she was consistently reckless, valuing others¡¯ lives above her own. He didn¡¯t care for that kid, despite knowing she acted rightly. What he was turning a blind eye to was how deeply he cared about Red¡¯s life. Even though he knew it could not be easily taken from her.

    ???

    The pungent scent of decaying flesh hung heavy all around, a noxious greeting at the very entrance of the cave. Yet Jalut met the assault on his senses with an unwavering composure. Such odors were old companions, their unpleasantness dulled by exposure to far more putrid reminders of mortality. His stoic demeanor silently acknowledged the gruesome tableau before him, affirming Anubis¡¯ words.

    The two surviving thugs had not exaggerated a bit. The remnants of the unfortunate victims were meticulously stripped to the bone by the forest¡¯s natural undertakers, while diligent worms continued their morbid work in the dim recesses.

    Surveying the aftermath, Jalut cataloged the evidence: thigh bones marked with traces from large, menacing teeth, broken in ways beyond any forest creature¡¯s capability.

    Just as I thought.

    A small, weathered flask dangled from Jalut¡¯s leather-clad waist belt. Its contents, a murky liquid with an earthy hue, disappeared in a single, determined gulp. His face contorted in a wince of discomfort, a vivid portrayal of the body¡¯s stubborn resistance to adapt to certain remedies, no matter how often they are used.

    Bending over with a series of involuntary grunts, Jalut painstakingly retrieved a single bone. Inhaling deeply and intentionally, he pressed it against his face, as if attempting to imprint the noxious smell onto his very soul.

    Emerging from the cave, Jalut felt a sudden chill as the brisk morning air of the woods surrounded him, and cast a discerning gaze around. With a methodical rhythm, he inhaled deeply, taking in the surrounding scents that danced in the air, while the cool breeze invigorated his senses. A crooked smile gradually crept onto his lips as he ventured forth, choosing the westward path to look for other trails.

    It had been a considerable span since he last faced such a formidable opponent. Though this assignment posed challenges, they were manageable and not overwhelming. The thought of stepping back into his former role as a hunter from A Perfect Circle sent a surge of anticipation and excitement coursing through him.

    ???

    ¡°Thank you, thank you.¡±

    Joaquin bowed as the animated crowd showered him with cheers and applause. Red, caught up in the jubilant atmosphere, joined in with enthusiastic claps. As the applause subsided, she turned her head, anticipating Dave¡¯s reaction, only to discover he was no longer occupying the seat beside her.

    A swift survey of the room exposed him at a separate table, engaged in conversation with inebriated card players. After a while, he rose from his seat, and with each step exuding a sense of authority, he made his way back to her.

    His journey back drew the attention of many, with women at nearby tables casting curious stares his way. Some, their inhibitions loosened by the influence of wine coursing through their veins, made little to no effort to conceal their overtly suggestive desires.

    ¡°A friend of yours?¡± she asked, her voice dancing with playful tones, yet beneath the surface, curiosity lingered, accompanied by a subtle undercurrent of jealousy, a sentiment neither of them fully noticed.

    ¡°Drunks are the best source of information, don¡¯t you think?¡± he remarked, easing into the seat beside her, a wisp of smoke curling from the cigarette now nestled between his lips.

    Intending to probe further into the conversation, she prepared herself to inquire but was interrupted by the enchanting sound of Joaquin¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Dear ladies and gentlemen. You are so kind to me. Thank you.¡±

    He hiccupped, his cheeks flushed in hues, mirroring the wine he had been invited to partake in several times already, and his eyes glistened with an intoxicating gloss.

    ¡°Shall we have one last song to conclude the night? Any requests?¡±

    Amid the ambient clamor, a cacophony of well-known song titles and ballads erupted from the crowd until a singular shout rose above the rest.

    ¡°How about something truly extraordinary, bard?¡±

    ¡°Extraordinary?¡±

    Joaquin leaned on a bar table, his wavy black hair cascading like a mermaid¡¯s. A few young women in the crowd gasped, their reactions followed by a ripple of giggles.

    ¡°What do you have in mind, dear pal?¡± he asked, his attention focused on the man, the very one Dave had conversed with only moments ago.

    Red shot a look at Dave, her eyebrows raised inquisitively, yet he paid scant attention to the unfolding scene, his gaze distant as he savored his cigarette.

    ¡°Yeah, extraordinary!¡±

    The inebriated man persisted.

    ¡°A ballad, but a rare one. Not widely known.¡±

    He grunted, lifting his beer for a hearty swig.

    ¡°I have a strong feeling, my friend, that you harbor something unique in your thoughts,¡± Joaquin said and stepped forward with a tentative stride, his fingers tuning the lute with care.

    ¡°Aye. Once, I heard a song about a magic amulet. It connects the wearer¡¯s life with another person.¡±

    ¡°Interesting¡­¡±

    Joaquin¡¯s voice dropped, and his gaze wandered, searching for someone in the room. Eventually, he returned his focus to the man.

    ¡°Claddagh?¡± he asked.

    Red¡¯s face froze. Every muscle in her body tensed, and Dave tapped his cigarette. She sensed the shift in his demeanor. He was now devoting all his attention to the bard¡¯s words.

    He heard about it. Joaquin knows something about the amulet.

    Her heart raced, its beats echoing in the anticipation-laden air.

    ¡°Dunno,¡± the drunk man mumbled. ¡°I recall no names. Sing it, and I¡¯ll tell you.¡±

    Joaquin lowered his gaze towards his lute.

    ¡°It¡¯s no simple melody, my friend. An obscure tune, not widely recognized. The very notion that you¡¯ve encountered its echoes intrigues me. Given the volume of wine coursing through my veins, mistakes may find their way. But let me try.¡±

    He bit his upper lip, his fingers caressing the neck of the instrument with tender precision.

    ¡°Here, a ballad of Claddagh. Better put, a lyrical tale woven with threads of love, despair, and hope. A sonic tapestry echoing ancient times and an illustrious king.¡±

    He played a few strings, each note a subtle command for silence. He cleared his throat, the reverberation cutting through the ambient murmurs.

    Red, clenching the edges of her cape with both hands, glanced at Dave. His focus remained unwavering on the bard, akin to a predator studying its prey, not a blink betraying his intent.

    As the initial notes echoed through the inn, a collective understanding permeated the air.

    In a realm of old, a tale untold,

    A king of might, with a heart of gold.

    His queen so fair, with eyes like stars,

    Yet destiny wove a tale with heavy scars.

    Joaquin walked between the tables, his steps deliberate and unhurried. The sound of his voice was like a symphony, each word flowing effortlessly and sweetly, like honey dripping from a spoon.

    In the castle high, where shadows danced,

    The queen lay frail, her life¡¯s last chance.

    The king, he wept, with a heavy sigh,

    A love so true, he couldn¡¯t let it die.

    Oh, the ancient king in sorrow¡¯s embrace,

    For love poisoned, his heart couldn¡¯t erase.

    Claddagh amulet, a desperate plea,

    To bind their souls for eternity.

    With each stroke of his fingers on the strings, a masterful and haunting melody was brought to life on his new lute. The sound of each note was filled with an unspoken sorrow, as if they too had borne witness to the story Joaquin was singing.

    Through moonlit nights and sunlit days,

    He toiled away in a mystical haze.

    A powerful charm, with gems so bright,

    To unite their souls, against death¡¯s cruel might.

    But time, relentless, refused to yield,

    As the queen¡¯s breath waned, her fate was sealed.

    In the dim-lit chamber, he held her close,

    The Claddagh unfinished, a bittersweet dose.

    As the music slowly slowed down, a serene atmosphere filled the room. The lute¡¯s sound was delicate, its notes blending seamlessly with Joaquin¡¯s calm voice in the last verse. Tears stained the faces of those in awe, their emotions palpable.

    In the annals of time, their story unfolds,

    A love unbroken, in memories it holds.

    The Claddagh amulet, an incomplete rhyme,

    Yet echoes through ages, transcending time.

    As the final notes cascaded, a weighty silence enveloped the room. A few, subdued by the spirits coursing through their veins, wept in quiet contemplation.

    Red and Dave shared an intense gaze, a silent exchange laden with unspoken questions. Her heart raced with a chaotic rhythm, echoing the lingering resonance of the song. Regardless of where or from whom Joaquin had learned the haunting melody, he held the key to guide them in the right direction.

    ¡°I assume,¡± Joaquin said, breaking the heavy atmosphere, ¡°that this is the song you desired to hear, my friend.¡±

    The drunk man shrugged his shoulders, unimpressed, eyelids heavy.

    ¡°I guess,¡± he mumbled and returned to his card game.

    Joaquin offered a faint smile and bowed deeply. Expressing gratitude with a few words and sending air kisses to the audience, he bid his farewell. He staggered towards the stairs and his room, his unsteady gait reminiscent of a drunkard¡¯s. Little did he know, Dave silently followed in his footsteps, with Red closely behind.

 Chapter Seven - Deal

    ¡°

    ¡°

    It was just¡­ whatever.

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    What are you doing, Dave? Why?

    ¡°

    ¡°

    Why is he doing this? What is wrong with him today? Or is it me? Perhaps I¡¯ve also had too much to drink.

    ¡°

    What was that? He never acted like this. Indeed, he never cared about respecting others¡¯ personal space. But this was different. Was he doing it on purpose? To intimidate me? But why? And why do I feel so ¡ª

    Dave.

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    He is in a positive mood. That¡¯s great.

    ¡°

    ¡°

    Are men synchronized or something?

    ¡°

    Am I charmed?

    Will Dave kill me?

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    It will be alright.

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    He can¡¯t get the feeling of being played.

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    Who are you truly, bard?

    ¡°cord

    What else is part of this act of yours, Joaquin?

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    Stop it, Blanchette! Get hold of yourself.

    All will go well.

    What took her so long?

    ???

    pretty lady in red

    ¡°

    The hunt is on.

    ???

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    Venterrant,

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    Did I offend him somehow?

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°

 Chapter Eight - Ambush

    The first smoke bomb went off the moment Joaquin realized that for the past three days, Dave had been with them instead of scouting ahead.

    Jalut¡¯s timing was perfect. He had consumed all the potions just in time to cover his approach. The second bomb should incapacitate his target by putting him to sleep. The other two were already dead, thanks to his precise shot from a small one-handed crossbow. Three heavily poisoned silver arrows had definitely taken care of them.

    With a calculated step, he entered the haze, his senses on high alert. A cold realization washed over him as he sniffed the air, detecting the absence of the metallic tang of blood that should have lingered after his successful ambush.

    Cursing under his breath, Jalut wasted no time. He dashed out of the dissipating smoke, his muscles coiled with tension as he pursued his escaping prey. Each stride propelled him forward with a desperate determination, his mind racing to catch up with the unexpected turn of events. Victory would not elude him. With every ounce of resolve, he sprinted into the unknown, ready to chase down his quarry and reclaim control of the situation.

    ???

    ¡°Are you hurt?¡±

    Dave¡¯s voice cut through the tense air as he set Red and Joaquin down. Red shook her head, her breath forming wispy clouds in the crisp air.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. The cape did its job again. How about you?¡±

    ¡°I dodged¡­¡±

    His gaze flicked to the pallid complexion of Joaquin, the subtle quiver of his form betraying his unease.

    ¡°I¡ªI¡¯m fine,¡± the bard stuttered, his fingers trembling as they roamed over his own body, seeking reassurance amidst the looming threat.

    ¡°He wasn¡¯t aiming at you. Red,¡± Dave said, his eyes meeting her concerning gaze as she lifted her head. ¡°You two should run. I will deal with him.¡±

    ¡°You sound confident,¡± Jalut said in a bitter tone.

    Their collective senses heightened, attuned to the approaching danger. The rhythmic thud of heavy footsteps echoed through the stillness, each step resonating with a sinister intent. The towering figure emerged from the shadows, his lean, muscular frame exuding a menacing presence, his fists clenched around deadly knuckle-fist blades.

    Dave moved with purpose, positioning himself to shield both Red and Joaquin. A primal growl reverberated from his throat, the raw fury palpable in the frigid air.

    ¡°Hunter¡­¡±

    The sound sent shivers down Joaquin¡¯s spine, his senses reeling with a primal instinct to flee. Red¡¯s breath came in deliberate exhales as she tried to maintain clarity amidst the encroaching chaos.

    ¡°Well,¡± the tall man smirked.

    He halted just a few paces away, his voice a low rumble that resonated with a chilling certainty.

    ¡°A former hunter to you. I¡¯ve heard how fearsome and dangerous the Grays are. I underestimated your nose. And yet, even though you caught my scent, you waited until the last moment.¡±

    ¡°What do you want!? My fur!?¡±

    Dave¡¯s voice reverberated through the silent woods, defiance ringing clear in his words.

    ¡°I just want the bard. Let me take him, and I¡¯ll let you live. You have my word.¡±

    ¡°I have a better idea. I¡¯ll shove that word up your ass.¡±

    With the final retort, Dave launched himself towards Jalut with fierce determination. Joaquin¡¯s disbelief shot his eyebrows up, yet he had no time to dwell as Red¡¯s hand closed around his own, pulling him into a desperate sprint away from the danger.

    ???

    In the first seconds, Jalut¡¯s senses were ablaze with the effects of the enhancing potions coursing through his veins. Dave attacked relentlessly, bare-handed, his every movement a testament to his speed and strength. Each blow from him reverberated through the clearing, a thunderous echo that set Jalut¡¯s nerves on edge.

    As Dave¡¯s strikes rained down with bone-shattering force, Jalut¡¯s keen senses detected the subtle shifts in air pressure and the faint tremors beneath his feet. His breath came in sharp gasps, his pulse racing in sync with the frantic rhythm of combat.

    Fucking Gray!

    Amidst the chaos of the duel, barely dodging each strike, Jalut¡¯s trained eye caught a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability¡ªa split-second opening that promised a potential advantage. With calculated precision, he moved to exploit the weakness, his movements fluid and deliberate as he sought to gain the upper hand against his formidable opponent.

    At that moment, as he lunged forward, he knew that under such circumstances and in duels like these, luck often determined the outcome. The stakes were high, the outcome uncertain, but he remained resolute in his pursuit of victory, determined to seize the fleeting opportunity before him and turn the tide of battle in his favor. With each heartbeat, the line between triumph and defeat hung precariously in the balance, and Jalut was willing to wager it all on a roll of fate¡¯s dice.

    ???

    As they darted through the dense foliage, Joaquin¡¯s fingers clenched around Red¡¯s hand, their knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. Each root and fallen branch threatened to send him tumbling, his feet stumbling over the uneven terrain. The forest became a blur of greens and browns, swirling together in a dizzying whirlwind around him.

    Amidst the chaos, the vibrant red of her cape stood out like a beacon, a flickering flame of hope in the darkness. It fluttered behind her, a striking difference from the muted hues of the trees guiding their path through the tangled undergrowth.

    But as they ran, a sharp pain pierced Joaquin¡¯s side, stealing his breath and sending waves of nausea crashing over him. His vision swam, the edges blurring and distorting with each labored breath. He fought to stay upright, his muscles burning with exertion as he pushed himself to keep pace with Red¡¯s frantic strides.

    The scent of damp earth filled his nostrils. A cold sweat trickled down his forehead in icy rivulets. Each inhale was a struggle, his ribcage constricting with the weight of the surroundings pressing in around him.

    Suddenly, Red¡¯s grip tightened, pulling him back from the brink of collapse. He saw her other hand pressed against her side. His heart pounded in his chest.

    ¡°Lady Red, are you alright?¡± he gasped, his voice barely audible over the roar of their flight.

    ¡°Nothing. It¡¯s nothing, just keep running,¡± she replied, her voice strained with the effort to keep pace.

    However, she couldn¡¯t help but think about the companion they just left behind.

    Dave, I hope it¡¯s just a scratch.

    ???

    Dave gritted his teeth, pressing his back against the rough bark of a tree. Fresh wounds marred his body. One slicing across his left side beneath his ribs, another slashing his right cheek, and a deep gash marring his left triceps, crimson rivulets trickling down his arm.

    ¡°Fucking silver,¡± he cursed through clenched teeth, his voice strained with pain.

    Yet, he knew it wasn¡¯t just silver causing his agony. There was something more malicious at play. A poison flowed through his veins, intensifying the pain with every beat of his heart. The cuts oozed with a viscous fluid, the surrounding skin inflamed and angry as if the very air itself burned.

    Fuck! I have to end him fast or else ¡ª

    His thoughts were shattered by the sudden onslaught as he dodged a punch that sailed past, leaving a deep crack in the tree where his head had been moments before.

    ¡°You remain quite reactive,¡± Jalut sneered, swiftly pivoting to launch another assault. ¡°The pure lineage of Grays is impressive.¡±

    With every move, Jalut aimed to end the fight as soon as possible, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. But Dave, despite his injuries, moved with unexpected agility, evading each strike with a dancer¡¯s grace.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    The woodland echoed with the grunts of exertion as the two combatants engaged in their deadly dance.

    As Jalut lunged forward, aiming his blade at Dave¡¯s vulnerable stomach, the hunter¡¯s eye spotted another clear opening, Dave pivoted, the blade grazing his flesh but failing to find its mark. Instead of dodging, Dave countered with a sudden burst of strength, his fist connecting with Jalut¡¯s liver with bone-crushing force.

    The impact sent shockwaves of pain radiating through Jalut¡¯s body. Anyone else would lie down dead after such a blow, but he shook it off and pressed on, determined to finish the job. However, after barely dodging a fatal blow to his thyroid, another landed in his temporal region. Jalut staggered, his muscles taut with anticipation of another strike. Just a couple more, and he¡¯d teeter on the verge of oblivion. But it was the moment for the poison to unleash its full malevolence.

    Dave¡¯s anguished groan echoed through the forest as he expelled a gush of blood, his body wracked with weakness. Desperation clawed at him as he struggled to summon the strength to end his opponent.

    ¡°Tch! Finally.¡±

    Jalut¡¯s voice, laced with disdain, pierced the air as he scrutinized Dave¡¯s contorted features.

    ¡°I was doubting whether your Gray metabolism would succumb to such a potent dose of poison.¡±

    With a series of agile maneuvers, he shook off the lingering haze of the previous blows.

    ¡°You nearly had me there.¡±

    Circling Dave, Jalut observed his gradual descent to the forest floor, each movement accompanied by a symphony of pain. Yet, amidst the torment, Dave¡¯s gaze remained fixed on the hunter, a silent testament to his unwavering resolve.

    ¡°But, finally, the poison is working. Tailored for beings like you, a vile concoction of ionized silver. Nasty stuff reacting to the high amounts of sulfur and phosphorus in your body, devouring your organs with ruthless efficiency. Your greatest strength becomes your fatal flaw.¡±

    With a deft stroke, he opened Dave¡¯s throat, the crimson rivulet staining the forest floor, a stark contrast to the hues of the moss-covered ground.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a pleasure. Though you may linger for a few moments, courtesy of your remarkable regenerative abilities, you¡¯ll soon die. I regret I cannot enjoy your final breaths. There are matters to attend to. Your girlfriend awaits, and my duty beckons. Adios.¡±

    Stepping forward, Jalut caught a guttural snarl, laden with incomprehensible menace.

    ¡°Hush now, no need for words. They serve only to hasten your demise,¡± he said with index finger pressed against in lips.

    ¡°Leave¡ªher¡ªalone¡­¡±

    Dave¡¯s voice, barely more than a growl, sent a shiver down Jalut¡¯s spine.

    ¡°And if not?!¡±

    His gaze bore into Dave¡¯s. A heavy feeling nestled in his chest.

    ¡°She¡ªwill¡ªend you. Loser¡­¡±

    Dave¡¯s eyes flickered shut, his defiance fading into a pained exhale.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see about that, werewolf,¡± Jalut hissed, his attention already shifting to the pursuit of his fleeing quarry.

    But he couldn¡¯t shake the unsettling confidence in Dave¡¯s last words. Gripping his teeth, he pushed forward, steeling himself for the confrontation that lay ahead.

    She won¡¯t notice what killed her.

    ???

    As they continued running, weariness settled into Joaquin¡¯s bones like an unwelcome guest overstaying its welcome. Each step became a struggle against the heaviness of exhaustion pressing down upon him. He felt the burden of fatigue more acutely, his muscles protesting with every movement, pleading for respite. Silently, he prayed for a moment of rest, a break from running through the wilderness.

    It was as though the universe had heard his plea when Red slowed their pace. Her hand remained firmly clasped around Joaquin¡¯s, a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos. Yet, her other hand drifted to her stomach, a subtle gesture that hinted at unseen turmoil lurking beneath the surface.

    ¡°Lady Red, are you okay?¡±

    Joaquin¡¯s voice trembled with concern, his words a hesitant echo in the forest¡¯s embrace. His gaze fell upon a faint, pink line marring the smooth curve of Red¡¯s neck, resembling a delicate brushstroke on a canvas. It resembled a rash, but its perfect symmetry betrayed an unnatural origin.

    Turning to face him, Red¡¯s eyes bore a weight of despair that pierced Joaquin¡¯s soul. A torrent of guilt surged within him, the gravity of responsibility pressing down as heavily as a leaden cloak.

    Should I have stayed home? Is this all my fault?

    ¡°I have to go back, Joaquin.¡±

    Red¡¯s voice held an eerie calmness, a stark contrast to the chaos swirling around them. He would never dare to imagine hearing her voice in such a dead-cold tone.

    ¡°You must continue,¡± she said.

    ¡°What?¡±

    Joaquin¡¯s fingers tangled in his hair, his mind reeling with disbelief.

    ¡°But have you seen that man? He¡¯s a lunatic and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Dave needs me.¡±

    Her words were a solemn declaration, carried on a breath as cold as winter frost. They lingered ominously, a chilling reminder of their dire circumstances.

    Seating herself on the forest floor, Red retrieved a collection of flasks and herbs from her shoulder bag, her movements methodical and purposeful.

    ¡°You should run,¡± she urged, her gaze fixed on the task at hand.

    ¡°No, I cannot abandon you. And you can¡¯t go back. It¡¯s too dangerous!¡±

    ¡°He is dying, Joaquin. He needs my help.¡±

    Red¡¯s voice brooked no argument, her conviction unwavering in the face of impending danger.

    Joaquin couldn¡¯t believe his ears. He couldn¡¯t decide what was worse. The message that Dave was in grave danger or the tone with which she delivered it. Calm. But not a pleasant calm. It was a calm, powerful river. A relentless tidal wave was forming, certain to crush anything in its wake.

    His mind raced, grappling with the gravity of their situation. He traced patterns upon the forest floor, pulling at his shirt with trembling fingers, his thoughts in turmoil.

    This is what you wanted, right? An adventure. Adventures are dangerous. You wanted stories to tell. Ballads to sing. Now you can¡¯t decide if you want to run away. Again?

    ¡°How may I help you?¡±

    Joaquin¡¯s voice betrayed a flicker of uncertainty as he expected her to send him away.

    ¡°Take this and crush it all together to dust.¡±

    She handed him a mortar filled with some herbs and a pestle.

    ¡°Quickly, I¡¯ll prepare a flask with alcohol and the pre-made brews for Dave.¡±

    At that moment, as he followed her instructions, Joaquin confronted the significance of his choices. He couldn¡¯t leave Red and Dave behind, not when their lives hung in the balance. It was unbearable to think of something happening to them because of him. And his parents would neither forgive him, for they raised him to be brave, not a coward. With renewed resolve, Joaquin vowed to complete this journey for the sake of his new friends and loved ones at home.

    ???

    It was much easier than he expected. To his surprise, his target changed direction and was running towards him. Worried about their friend. It was certain. At least on her side. And because of this change, all Jalut needed was to prepare a simple ambush.

    As expected, she led the way, with the bard trailing behind. His pulse quickened, adrenaline surging through his veins as he readied his crossbow. He aimed with practiced precision, the tension on the trigger a familiar sensation beneath his fingertips. With a sharp exhale, he pulled, and two arrows sliced through the air, their deadly intent concealed by the tranquility of the woods.

    The impact was jarring, the thunk of the arrows finding their mark followed by a sickening silence. Jalut wasted no time, closing the distance with the bard in swift, calculated strides. Almost everything went according to plan. Almost.

    Both arrows successfully hit the target, and the guy went unconscious with one blow. However, the sound those arrows made was far from hitting soft fabric and piercing human flesh. It was more akin to a clanging noise when hitting a rock.

    ¡°What a nice cape you are wearing! Didn¡¯t expect that.¡±

    Jalut¡¯s voice cut through the tense atmosphere, his gaze shifting from the fallen bard to Red, who stood like a sentinel amidst the trees. His words hung in the air, laden with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

    ¡°Where is he?¡± she asked.

    Hearing her tone, Jalut discerned she was no ordinary girl. Her eyes were ablaze, piercing him from under the crimson hood. He tightened his grip around his weapons. Something was off. He felt her voice vibrating deep within his chest. His heart turned to a giant bell, and she was the hammer. He licked his lips and gulped. Heavy silence surrounded them as if the forest itself held its breath in her presence.

    ¡°Dead, not far,¡± Jalut replied, his voice betraying a tremor of uncertainty that surprised even him.

    He gestured vaguely behind her, his eyes never leaving her form. Not a single muscle in her body moved. Not even on her face. Like a mountain, she stood there, holding a small knife in her left hand. Her gaze, unlike any predator, captured him in a manner he had never experienced.

    What the fuck is this girl?

    Jalut¡¯s mind raced, analyzing the situation. His palms were sweaty, and the bitter taste of fear lingered on his tongue. The potions he took should continue to work, making these unexpected emotions more disturbing. Something was very wrong.

    ¡°So,¡± he began, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. ¡°How about this? You let me take this one,¡± he pointed at the unconscious bard, ¡°and you can go check on your dead friend.¡±

    ¡°You are not leaving alive, hunter.¡±

    Red¡¯s words pierced him like a death sentence, her tone unwavering in its conviction. Jalut¡¯s blood ran cold at the finality of her words, the weight of her gaze bearing down on him like a physical force.

    His eyes widened, a cold sweat breaking out across his brow as he took a cautious step backward. Years had passed since he last felt these shivers. She was dangerous. How dangerous? He must discover it firsthand.

    He started walking in a wide circle towards her, approaching with utmost care, keeping his eyes on her. The forest seemed to close in around them, the towering trees casting long shadows that danced at the edges of his vision. His senses were on high alert, every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs magnified in the oppressive silence.

    A bead of sweat trickled down his spine as he continued to circle her, his heart pounding in his chest¡ªa heavy drumbeat resonating through the calmness of the woods.

    He already made half a circle around her, slowly coming from her side behind her back, while maintaining a distance. Her eyes were locked on him, her head turning with each step he took, making her an eerie presence, reminding him of stories about spirits possessing human bodies, twisting them like dolls in unnatural ways. His breathing quickened.

    In contrast, her breath was slow and controlled. She knew she scared him and shook his confidence. It gave her the edge she desperately needed.

    I¡¯ve got only one chance. Don¡¯t mess it up, Red.

    The heaviness of her resolve settled like a heavy cloak around her shoulders. But if she fails, she can still manage. She needs to do everything within her power to save Dave. Joaquin will be added to the list later.

    She shifted all her mental focus to the poisoned arrows lying nearby. Her head spun with the dizzying array of sensations assaulting her senses. Such manipulation was extremely tiresome, the mental strain threatening to overwhelm her.

    The whole woodland turned into a blurry abstract painting, the vibrant hues of green and brown blending together in a dizzying whirl. All sounds mingled together, metamorphosing into nothing more than white noise, weakening until all that remained was pain in her head and silence.

    He made his move from behind, just as she expected. He was quick but uncertain, the rustle of leaves beneath his feet betraying his step.

    In that very instant, she abruptly faced him, extending her arm in a graceful motion like that of a conductor. Her breath was heavy as if she was attempting to breathe underwater, her lungs burning with the effort. Colors of the world swirled together, vibrant and hazy, in a kaleidoscope of light. Both her legs gave up for a second, almost sending her to the ground, her muscles screaming with the strain of maintaining her stance.

    She couldn¡¯t see if she hit him. Everything was spinning around her in a chaotic dance, ever-changing direction. Her stomach was twisting, and she had the urge to throw up. All started turning black a moment before he hit her with his whole body weight, and as her hood fell upon the impact, he delivered one precise, deep cut on her neck.

 Chapter Nine - Witch

    Red sprinted through the dense forest, her breath ragged and her heart raced. She could feel the hunter¡¯s presence looming behind her, a relentless pursuer in the shadows of the trees.

    ¡°Dave, where are you?¡±

    Her voice echoed through the silent woods, a desperate plea swallowed by the oppressive darkness.

    A sudden stab of agony pierced her chest, causing her to stumble for a moment. Gasping for air, she fought through the pain, driven by a frantic determination to find him, to save him.

    She had to find Dave. She needed to mend his wounds, to salvage what was left of their shattered hope. Only then could they save Joaquin, the key to their salvation dangling just out of reach. He will give them the map. They will break the curse. Dave will be free and she ¡ª

    As a faint light flickered in the distance, Red¡¯s heart leaped with hope. Soon, the outline of a small hut emerged from the gloom, nestled like a sinister secret within the heart of the woods¡ªa place of refuge tainted by the horrors lurking within. A place familiar to her heart.

    With trembling hands, she pushed open the creaking door and stepped inside, the musty scent of decay assaulting her senses. The air was thick with the fragrance of blood, coating her tongue with its sickening sweetness.

    The scene that greeted her was a nightmare incarnate. Furniture lay shattered and splintered, the walls smeared with fresh crimson stains. In the corner, the bed held her grandmother¡¯s torn-up body, a mockery of life.

    Red sank to her knees amidst the carnage, tears mingling with the blood that stained her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around herself, seeking solace in the folds of her cape, a feeble shield against the horrors that surrounded her.

    A low, guttural growl rumbled through the room, sending shivers down her spine. She raised her gaze to meet the piercing stare of a wolf, its eyes like icy amber shards of malice glinting in the dim light.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­¡±

    Her voice quivered, barely a whisper in the suffocating silence that enveloped them. But the wolf showed no mercy, its predatory instincts stirring as it prepared to strike.

    With trembling hands, Red shed her cape. It rustled against her skin as it slid down her curves, revealing the vulnerability that lay beneath. Naked and exposed, showing her neck, she offered herself up to the beast, a sacrifice to atone for the sins that had brought them to this brink of despair.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Dave,¡± she murmured, her words lost in the primal roar of the wolf¡¯s hunger before it leaped towards her.

    And as its jaws closed around her throat, sealing her fate, Red knew that redemption would come at a cost too steep to bear.

    ???

    Jalut halted his horse with a gentle tug of the reins, the animal¡¯s hooves stirring up a cloud of dust as they came to a standstill. Leaning forward, he pressed a reassuring pat onto the sleek, muscular neck of his steed.

    ¡°Good boy, you deserve a moment¡¯s respite.¡±

    Dismounting with practiced ease, Jalut¡¯s boots hit the earth with a soft thud, his gaze drawn to the figure of the bard slumbering peacefully atop the horse. The potions he had administered would soon lose their potency, rousing the prisoner from his drug-induced slumber.

    With a deft hand, Jalut lifted him from his perch, cradling him in his arms before laying him down on the cool, dew-kissed grass below.

    The horse bag yielded a bounty of provisions, and Jalut wasted no time in offering Goliath a well-deserved treat, the crunch of vegetables mingling with the gentle trickle of the nearby stream.

    As the morning light bathed the clearing in its golden glow, Jalut turned his attention to his own injuries. Beads of sweat dotted his brow. With trembling hands, he set to work, concocting a mixture of herbs and potions to combat infection and promote healing.

    Memories of the encounter with that girl flooded his mind, each moment etched with vivid clarity.

    He had charged towards her with a ferocity born of desperation, his muscles tense with anticipation, unaware of what to expect. How might a young woman with a garden knife harm him? As he closed the distance, uncertainty gnawed at the edges of his resolve, casting doubt upon his intentions.

    With a swift, elegant motion, she turned to face him, her movements fluid and deliberate. In that instant, a searing pain ripped through his side, slicing through layers of protection as if they were mere paper. The sensation, sharp, and piercing, sent shockwaves of agony coursing through his body, leaving him momentarily paralyzed.

    Summoning every ounce of strength, he unleashed a flurry of strikes, aiming to rend her apart with the force of his blades. Yet, to his bewilderment, they met an impenetrable barrier¡ªthat cursed cape she wore repelling his every blow with uncanny resilience.

    As her hood slipped, a shrill whistle pierced the air close to his ear. His eyes met with hers and the emptiness that devoured him reminded him of the old pain of the past. He had seen those eyes before. Twice. Only one thing stares back like this.

    Death.

    As panic gripped his heart in a vise-like grip, a warm trickle of blood traced a path down his neck, a crimson reminder of his mortality.

    In a reflex born of survival, his hand moved with instinctive precision, severing the thread of life that bound her to this world. With a thud, her lifeless body crumpled to the ground, the silence deafening in its finality.

    His fingers sought the wound on his neck, tracing the path of the unseen blade with trembling urgency. A mere millimeter spared him from the abyss of death, a narrow escape from the jaws of fate that left him reeling with disbelief.

    With a heavy breath, he cast a quick stare at her body. What he saw froze him in horror.

    Her dead body moved. Her chest moved up and down, taking shallow breaths. And the cut on her neck was bloodless. Not a single drop.

    Driven by a primal instinct to survive, he scooped up the unconscious bard, his steps quickening with the weight of impending doom.

    As he returned to his horse and secured the bard, a wave of dizziness swept over him, a disorienting sensation that seemed to blur the edges of his vision. A bitter taste flooded his mouth, leaving an unpleasant sensation as he comprehended the gravity of his situation. It was his own poison coursing through his veins.

    With trembling hands, he hastily removed his armor, the weight of it pressing upon his weary frame. His fingers fumbled with the clasps, his movements erratic as he struggled to free himself from its suffocating embrace.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    As he peeled away the last blood-soaked layers of fabric, a sickening realization dawned upon him. The arrow, a lethal harbinger of his own making, protruded from his side like a twisted accusation. The sight of it shook him to his core, the jagged edges glinting ominously in the sun.

    Shocked and disoriented, he reached for the poisoned shaft, his fingers closing around it with a trembling grip. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled it free, the searing pain radiating through his body like wildfire. His vision swam before him, the world tilting dangerously on its axis as he struggled to maintain his composure.

    He forced himself to focus, his gaze darting anxiously to the surrounding shadows. He knew she was out there. The realization of her still being alive filled him with a sense of dread, a primal instinct urging him to flee.

    Despite the overwhelming sense of fear that threatened to consume him, he pressed on, his movements fueled by sheer determination. He had applied medicine to the wound and tightly bandaged it up.

    With a last glance over his shoulder, he mounted Goliath¡¯s back, the steed beneath him trembling with anticipation. They surged forward into the heart of the forest, hooves pounding against the earth like a steady pulse of defiance against the encroaching darkness.

    As Jalut applied the soothing medicine to the wound, he inadvertently disturbed the crust of dried blood, causing it to fissure and trickle anew with crimson vitality. With a swift and practiced hand, he reached for a fresh bandage, the fabric crisp and clean against his fingertips, wrapping it around the wound.

    How had she managed to do this?

    The moment Jalut¡¯s armor encased him, Joaquin¡¯s groans pierced the stillness. In the wake of his drugged slumber, a surge of confusion and unrest seized him, his limbs convulsing in a desperate bid for freedom.

    ¡°Easy now. Drink this,¡± Jalut said, his voice a calm anchor amidst Joaquin¡¯s rising panic, as he knelt beside him, offering him a leather flask.

    ¡°Where are they? Did you kill them?¡±

    Joaquin¡¯s words hissed through clenched teeth, each syllable laden with apprehension and fear.

    Jalut sighed wearily, pressing the flask to Joaquin¡¯s lips, his movements firm yet gentle, ensuring compliance as he blocked his nose to prompt swallowing.

    ¡°Where are they?¡±

    Joaquin demanded after taking a few forceful sips of fresh, cold water.

    ¡°Far away. For both your sake and mine, let us hope we won¡¯t meet them again,¡± Jalut replied solemnly, taking an apple from the provisions stashed within the horse bag.

    ¡°Are they dead?¡±

    Joaquin persisted, his despair palpable in the quiver of his voice. Dizziness and a gnawing ache twisted within him, his unease amplified by the uncertainty of his true identity being revealed. But even more profound was his concern for his newfound companions.

    When Jalut offered the apple, Joaquin¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    ¡°How am I supposed to eat while all tied up? What have you done to them?¡±

    With a roll of his eyes, Jalut squatted, locking eyes with Joaquin in a moment of shared understanding.

    ¡°Listen, music boy. Your hands may be bound, but you can easily eat. Trust me, you want to eat. Soon, the effects of the drug will lull you back into slumber.¡±

    With insistence, he pressed the apple into Joaquin¡¯s hand.

    ¡°And as for your companions, forget them. I suspect you do not know who they are. You are safer in my company.¡±

    Joaquin took a hesitant bite, the crisp sweetness a fleeting reprieve from the turmoil within. Yet Jalut¡¯s cryptic warnings lingered, casting shadows of doubt upon his already troubled mind.

    Dave¡¯s swift entry into the fight. His effortless handling of Joaquin and Red left unanswered questions in his mind. Despite all these suspicions, he found himself inclined to trust them over the enigmatic figure before him.

    ¡°Where are you taking me? And what do you know about my friends?¡±

    As Jalut rose, he stretched his weary muscles, his movements fluid yet burdened by unseen weights.

    ¡°I cannot tell. I¡¯m a professional. But I¡¯ll tell you this. That man, he is a beast. But he, too, fades in comparison to that girl¡­¡±

    Red? How can Red be more dangerous than Dave?

    Joaquin finished the apple, left with unanswered questions that lingered like specters in the haze. His captor¡¯s cryptic allusions to Red stirred a deeper unease within him. With each passing moment, weariness descended upon him like a heavy blanket, dragging him into the depths of slumber.

    Jalut waited, the silence broken only by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of nature. Two more minutes passed before he hoisted the slumbering bard onto the horse¡¯s back, his movements swift yet deliberate.

    With fluid grace, he mounted the steed, his senses attuned to the whispering winds that carried echoes of impending danger. Though the original plan was to deliver the goods in three days, Jalut resolved to hasten their journey, spurred on by the gnawing uncertainty of that girl¡¯s survival and the specter of her vengeance trailing close behind.

    ???

    Red jolted from her slumber, drenched in sweat, the gentle night breeze feeling more like a cold gust against her skin. She rubbed her eyes, shivering slightly from the lingering chill in the air.

    A weak, deep voice shattered the silence, prompting her to turn towards him.

    ¡°Another nightmare?¡±

    He sat on the ground, propped against a tree covered by her cape.

    ¡°Or are you just cold because you¡¯ve wrapped me up like a child?¡±

    He winced, his face contorted in pain as he attempted to move.

    ¡°Don¡¯t move, you idiot,¡± she said, yet her sharp tone carried a hint of relief. ¡°You almost died.¡±

    She moved closer to adjust the cape and properly cover him.

    ¡°You mean we both nearly died. Did he take Joaquin?¡±

    Red, now sitting beside him, locked eyes with him. She understood his motive. It wasn¡¯t concern for Joaquin¡¯s life, but desperation for a solution to their curse.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she said in a low voice, her gaze fixed on Dave¡¯s sharp features illuminated by the moonlight. ¡°We almost died. And yes, he took him. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous, Red. We survived. Thanks to you. I¡¯ll track him down.¡±

    He attempted to move again, accompanied by a painful grunt.

    ¡°Damn it, what kind of poison was that?¡±

    ¡°I told you not to move, you moron,¡± Red scolded him again. ¡°It was ionized silver in high concentration with an additional substance to enhance its effects. It literally made your blood boil, causing internal organ bleeding. Patching you up wasn¡¯t easy.¡±

    ¡°Did you only use herbs, or did you resort to magic?¡±

    As soon as he asked, Red averted her gaze.

    Was he really going to scold her for using magic again? She saved his life, fainting three times in the process. She understood the risks, but she had to save him. The amulet she wore likely played a crucial role, allowing her to wield magic despite its near-forgotten status in their world. Over the years, they had already discovered some of its effects. She couldn¡¯t die, and she could tap into higher magic at a significant cost to her energy, potentially fatal. The source of her life force remained a mystery, possibly linked to Dave since she could feel his injuries mirrored on her body as a tingling rash. However, they had yet to uncover the amulet¡¯s true nature and how to break the curse. Her grandmother had never mentioned Claddagh to her when she was alive, and their searches in her old home had yielded no written records. Joaquin and the map he promised were their hope for answers.

    ¡°I had to¡­¡±

    Red¡¯s voice trailed off, her tone low.

    ¡°Herbs wouldn¡¯t have saved you; your injuries were severe. And I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± he interrupted, ¡°but you could¡¯ve let us die. It would¡¯ve solved all our problems, right?¡±

    She glanced back at him as he rested his head against the tree with closed eyes. She adjusted the cape once more to cover him.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t,¡± she said, her voice wavering on the edge of tears. ¡°We have to save Joaquin. I don¡¯t understand why the hunter was after him. But I know Joaquin is a good person. He might help us find some clues. And you want to kill the last witch, remember?¡±

    He didn¡¯t respond, but she knew he was listening. She lay down beside him, her eyes damp.

    It took her some time, but she eventually found solace in feeling his chest rise and fall, in the warmth he radiated, and she drifted off to sleep.

    Meanwhile, Dave¡¯s thoughts raged like a storm. There were moments when Red irked him, but he saw other sides of her. She was intelligent, kind, and, despite his reluctance to admit it, innocent.

    Despite his past actions, she selflessly aided him in breaking the curse, knowing it might cause her own demise. She was well aware of his animosity towards her, which mirrored his feelings towards all witches. She had witnessed the horrifying moment when he mercilessly took the life of her grandmother, and later, he had attempted her own life. No. He hadn¡¯t attempted. He killed her. But the amulet had brought her back.

    She had too many reasons to hate him back. But here she was, lying next to him, her voice laced with genuine concern for his well-being.

    Kill the last witch.

    But how could he? She was immortal. Her death would mean his own. The process of breaking the curse could span centuries. His deep-seated hate towards witches was real, driven by personal vendettas. But Red was different.

    He spent more time with her than with anyone else. Somehow, she navigated his volatile temperament, earning his respect and protection. With each passing day, her presence became a source of unexpected comfort, her scent reminiscent of a garden teeming with life. She was no ordinary witch. She was his witch. His Red.

    I won¡¯t fuck up next time, I promise.