The storm raged outside, and Damon was drenched, cold, and exhausted. It had been a long walk back while dragging the damn thing, and he was mostly sure morning had come rolling over not that long ago. And the first thing he’d done was drop the familiar’s corpse next to his place and drag his ass to the knight’s house once sure said knight was still alive.

More than one set of eyes was peering at him from the other houses, and Damon had neither the patience nor energy to attempt figuring out what was going on. Idina, the knight’s daughter, had opened the door to his knocking. Pale, terrified, trembling, but her shoulders were squared off, her nose raised. “I am ready.” She swallowed, closing her eyes. “I only ask that it be quick.”

Damon leveled a gaze exhausted beyond belief. “I have questions, you will answer them, and then I will go to sleep and eat. May I come inside or would you rather just talk here?”

Idina blanched, looking at him with wide eyes and apprehension. Her eyes shot past Damon and to that of the other villagers, the ones trying to discreetly peek through the windows. “... inside.” She muttered, stepping back.

Damon ducked under the doorframe. “Thank you.” He said, following her towards the kitchen and keeping an eye out. Last thing he wanted was to get jumped or something. He sat heavily, and she did the same at the other side of the table. “Give me the simple version. What was your father doing?”

“Didn’t you…?”

“I asked him a few questions. But I will ask more later.” He replied. “And I will be making sure whether your answers match.”

There was a pause, she nodded, lowering her head. “He killed users to sell their axons.”

The declaration felt hollow to Damon, perhaps he was just too tired. Still, he made a show to curl his lips and remain silent, prompting Idina to continue.

“I… would lead them towards the gaper cave, let them fight things out. Father’s familiar would gather the axon if they lost, and if they won…” She swallowed thickly. “He would… finish them.” She shrunk in her seat, becoming quiet, golden hair shifting under the dim artificial lights glowing around the kitchen.

“And the man you took there when I woke up? Was he a user too?”

“No.” She shook her head. “He… bought the axons.” She turned to look the other way, pained eyes lowering to the floor.

That gave Damon pause. “Why did you take him there if he was the buyer?”

“He’d show up every season and buy the axons, but father hadn’t gathered enough this time. The man was threatening father, to reveal what he’d done. I… I told him we had a place where we hid them, away from where it might be found by wandering eyes, and…”

Damon nodded, crossing his arms.

“Why wasn’t your father’s familiar there?”

“The two users in the village.” She swallowed.

“What about them?”

Idina blinked surprised. “They… suspected him?”

“Is that a question?”

“Do you not hear their hymn?”

Damon leaned back, crossing his arms. “Explain it like I didn’t.”

“It’s thick with distrust, they knew something was up. If the familiar left with me and the merchant but only I and the familiar came back, it would have cornered father.”

“So he sent you, someone who can’t fight because you’re not a knight or a user, on what amounted to a suicide mission to get rid of the threat of being exposed.”

“He was desperate.” Idina lowered her head, barely whispering the words, lips curled and hands clenched into fists. She made a soft sobbing noise.

Damon felt his anger flare, frayed nerves and exhaustion gnawing at him. He pushed it back. “What did he plan to do after killing him? Escape?”

Idina looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “My father is a knight.”

“And?”

“Knights cannot leave the place they were assigned to protect. It is an edict.” Her head hung low. “He wanted me to take the gold and run, but I…” Idina went quiet, shivering a little as she became still.

Damon held back from groaning. It was easy to figure out where things come from. Isolated place, the only figure with power, unable to leave, resentment or greed at a stunted future… that felt like a recipe for corruption. Still, the knight would not find much sympathy from him. With a slight shake of his head, he turned to focus on the other issue at hand.

“In the cave, the gaper cave. Have you ever seen something there regarding Janus? Inscriptions, signs? Anything that might explain why I showed up there?”

She shook her head. “It’s always just been a gaper cave. It’s been visited a thousand times over, there are no signs of there being ruins there or it would’ve been dug out already.”

Damon didn’t like that, but he’d have to survey the area once he had the chance anyway. Best wait for Sybil and Han to come back from their hunt before doing anything, though. They would have a better clue about what to look for than him. At the very least, they’d be able to spot things he might miss.

“Are you… going to kill me now?”

“No.” The answer was immediate, Damon shook his head. “You’re going to stay here. What comes after will depend on my friends. Same goes for your father.” He paused a second, glancing at her more carefully. “But if you try to run, I’ll bring you back. And I won't be in a good mood.”

She shuddered and nodded, lowering her head further.

Damon wanted to groan, he loathed this, the bad news, the people caught in the middle of ugly things. He sighed, standing up and turning to the door, only then noticing the mud and water he’d trailed on his way inside.

“Sorry for making a mess.”

He wasn’t sure what else to say, so he left.

Darkness and the cold rain greeted him again. It gave his exhausted mind a jostle, enough for him to drag himself through the mud and towards the house he was staying at. His mind tried to move through the situation. Had Idina been coerced into this? Willing accomplice? The edicts likely also made it even more convoluted. He’d need more context and nuance about the situation, and to get that from a less biased source, he’d need to wait for the other two.

Damon’s thoughts came to a grinding halt when he spotted a lone figure in front of his house. A woman. His gaze flickered at her hands to confirm she was unarmed before he relaxed his shoulders and approached. She lowered her cowl as he got closer, it was Linda. She’d stood right at the house entrance, clearly waiting for him. Her eyes kept flickering towards the robot’s corpse and the dull orange lens atop the pile of scrap as if afraid it might come back to life.

“Bit late for visitors.” Damon commented wearily. “I think business can wait until morning.”

“Are you going to kill us?”

The question was blunt, direct; it caught him off balance. “What?”

“We knew what the knight was doing. But he threatened us.” She stood straight, pressing her hand against the center of her chest, the cloak parting to reveal her shirt was exposing more cleavage than her usual. “I’m willing to pay. It might not be much, but I’ve saved some gold over the years. And if that isn’t enough…”

Damon loathed how his eyes had wandered down her body, he should be too tired and cold to feel that way about anything right now. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, focusing on the sucky cold dampness all around him. “Look. I don’t want to kill or threaten anyone. So I’m going to get some food, dry off, and go to sleep.” He let out a long, tired sigh. “As far as I’m concerned, some asshole wanted to kill me and I defended myself. So now I’m going to try to contact the local authorities and let them handle the mess.”

Linda frowned. “You’re a user.”

“And?”

“The knight is incapacitated, there are no other users nearby. You are the local authority.”

“Explain it to me like my brain is half dead from having had to chase down a murder robot, then fight it, and then drag it back here with my bare feet.”

She looked at him with a confused frown. “If a monster shows up, if you don’t kill it, we won’t last long. If you wish to kill anyone, no one could stop you. If you want something, who would stop you?”

Coercion through being the biggest stick in the area.

Damon could only groan in frustration. “Yeah, that’s a load of bullshit I am definitely not qualified to tackle. I’m going to sleep now.” He reached for the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. “But to reiterate, no, not killing anyone, no, not going to rob any of you, either. And if a monster shows up we’ll figure out what the fuck needs to be done. Go and get some rest, Linda, we all need it.”

She stared at him, appearing unsure of his words, eyes lingering between the door to his house and the rest of the village. Her gaze returned to his own, and down to his naked feet. Linda grimaced. “I’ll have your boots finished in two days.”

“Thank you.”

He watched her go as she ran off back to her house. He just went inside his own, closed and locked the doors, checked the windows, and confirmed the knight was alive even if unconscious. Stripping off the drenched clothes and drying off, he ate some food, and nearly stumbled his way to his bedroom.

The lights were out before his head touched the pillow.

The next day had him waking up to very loud knocking at the house’s door. He could barely guess at the time of day with the raging storm. Definitely not early morning, at least.

Damon’s everything hurt, particularly his feet. Putting on the wooden flip-flops, he made his way down, wincing every step of the way. A quick precautionary check with the map. It was Linda again, she looked a lot better than the previous night, less fearful, more determined. The frown looked better on her than hesitant nervousness, at least.

“Here.” The woman shoved a basket into his arms, stepping into the house without asking for permission as she removed the cape and hung it near the door. Her black hair was carefully combed into a French braid. And she was wearing a simple plain brown dress that hugged her chest tightly, with pants underneath.

The woman’s gaze lingered on the door leading to the washroom, lips pursing with disgust. With a shake of her head, she turned to look around the kitchen, then turned back to him. “Have you eaten anything that wasn’t raw or salted?”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m the villager you’re most friendly with, and I want to pay my dues.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” He replied, leaning against the wall. “Actually, I’m still short on paying for those boots you’re making.”

“Last night, I realized you don’t really know how things are handled around here.”

Damon crossed his arms. “An understatement, but continue.”

Her finger pointed at the door. “He killed the owners of this house because they’d considered revealing what was going on to other users. They were good friends. This is the least I can do.”

“It was in self-defense. You don’t owe me anything.”

“And that’s for me to decide.” She put her hands on her hips, looking around for a moment, her long silver ears glittering under the dim light that came in through the window. “Food sounds like a good place to start. I overheard how much you eat from your friends. Might as well be something decent rather than trail rations.”

Damon didn’t reply, staring in disbelief at her as she began pulling out ingredients from the pantry. Whatever she had in mind, she seemed determined about it, and he wasn’t about to start an argument over what effectively amounted to free food. He did, however, turn his thoughts to something that was gnawing at him.

“You can’t defend yourself from monsters because of the edicts of peace, right?”

“You say that as if it weren’t the way things work.”

“Not where I’m from.” He replied. “If you can’t willingly harm anyone, then what happens if someone needs to be amputated for health reasons?”

“We take them to the nearest user or knight.” She answered, shifting her focus to the small pit that served as a stove. “And if you’re in a fancy city, there are medical robots under the guidance of the Goddess Rali.”

“Then what about traps?”

“Hm?” She threw some wood into the stove. Her hand reached into the metal box and the fire lit up almost instantly, much to Damon’s surprise. “What about them?”

“Could you, for example, make traps to kill monsters?”

“No.” She waved him off. “Edicts aside, it’s easier to rely on users and knights to handle the monsters. This area is relatively peaceful in that regard.”

“Let’s ignore the knights and users part. What if you just made a bit of the trap?”

“Intent is what matters.” Linda didn’t miss a beat. “If my actions are with the intent or knowledge that it is meant or likely to cause harm, I will become paralyzed with fear.”

“But what if I ask you to make a knife? Or tell you to gather wood so I can make a spear so someone else can stab a monster with it?”

“That is a potential for harm, not an intent to cause harm myself.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

“Oh.” Damon took a moment, rubbing his chin. “You mentioned the village couldn’t defend themselves.” A grin spread across his lips. “How would you like to change that?”

Linda looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

After nearly five days out in the wilds, Han and Sybil looked as exhausted as they felt. At least the rain had stopped after the second night. But they were worn out all the same, their clothes were singed, and their gazes weary. The duo had been half-expecting an ambush at some point of their return trip; the knight had certainly been far too elated with their departure to fight the monster lord. But aside from some teethers, there had not been any threats waiting for them. The return trip had become a push to get back to the village and check on Damon’s situation as soon as they could. The hunt had dragged too long for their liking.

So it was with no small amount of surprise that they encountered half the village outside the protective wall. Said villagers were moving between the village proper and the holes, a few rested next to a hole, others were digging said holes. Enormous holes, too. At least twice the length of a man and just as deep.

Sybil pulled her hood a little lower as she watched in disbelief, not entirely sure what she was looking at. The emotions she was picking out of their hymns were a dissonant cacophony. Some were happy, others annoyed, others confused, others certain, a few scared, but there was a definite undercurrent of anger… and concern? And awe.

There was definite awe from every one of them.

It was easy to see why.

“You’re seeing what I’m seeing too, right?” Han spoke under his breath.

Damon was up the hill, near a grove… or what was left of one. He was currently walking down said hill carrying two trees, one on each shoulder. Sybil felt her eyes widen until they could not broaden any further. The tree trunks were devoid of branches and foliage, but she was sure her spine would snap if she had to carry just one!

Yet to Damon it did not look like it was anything more than a heavy exertion. The man traversed his way towards the village, dropping the two trunks. It was hard to understand what he was saying from this distance, but the hymns of those he spoke to reacted with understanding and compliance to instructions. So it was easy to figure out from the context. Groans were heard all over, and those that had been resting picked up cutting tools to work on the trunks.

It was at this point that Damon had spotted them. A grin spread across his square-jawed face. He hastened to meet them half-way to the village. His chest was slick with sweat, and he only looked slightly winded. Sybil detected a twinge of concern from Han, and she could certainly understand it seeing the ax hanging from Damon’s hip.

The lack of a hymn was just as unnerving as the first day. Their instincts kept telling them to prepare for a fight, even as Damon’s face was beaming with a smile.

“Hey, good to see you guys are back.”

“What’s going on?” Han asked.

“Making traps for the village.” Damon looked ecstatic about it. “The knight attacked me, so I incapacitated him. I figured helping the village be able to defend themselves was the best option since the knight’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“WHAT!?”

“Don’t worry, no one’s dead. I just beat the shit out of him and the robot, erm, familiar.”

“How?” Han stepped forward, giving Damon a more serious look. The stare of a healer trying to find wounds. Sybil knew that gaze well, even when tired to the bone, Han wouldn’t relent in such things.

“Oh, I defeated the thing using the power of friendship.” Damon let out a chuckle at the unamused gaze they shot at him. “‘Friendship’ is what I called the big fucking stick I used to beat the familiar until it stopped moving.”

Han and Sybil shared a glance. Neither needed to feel the other’s hymn to know they were both imagining the tree-trunks Damon had been carrying only minutes prior. If he’d wielded something like that to hit the familiar, reinforced or not, it was going to break.

“Are you alright?” Sybil inquired, pushing past the surprise.

“Yeah, just a bit bruised all over, but nothing too bad.” He responded, almost sheepishly. “Anyway, you two look like shit. Go get rested and all that. Oh, I’ll have to talk to you guys over what to do with the knight.”

“He’s alive?”

“I only broke his legs during the fight.”

Sybil shuddered, her grafts itched at the thought. For once she was thankful Damon couldn’t hear hymns or he might consider what she was currently feeling to be something rather rude.

“His daughter’s busting her back helping with the holes thing. I think she’s trying to show repentance, but I think you two will have questions to ask them and all that. So go rest up. I’ve got some more wood to chop.”

Again, Sybil and Han shared a look. They lowered their hymns to barely a whisper. She pushed guilt, Han reciprocated with acknowledgment and similar guilt. Slowly, they shared a nod as they reached the same conclusion.

“We’d like to talk to you as well.” She declared, shifting slightly in discomfort. “We may not have been entirely honest with you.”