Since their lamps were in their bags, the only light against the inky darkness came through the entrance in the form of bleak, flickering sunlight. The Rockskin rammed the cave and roared into the opening, spitfiring saliva at the two Seekers. The sunlight returned as the Rockskin withdrew, but it was dark again in a second as the monster smashed against the hole. Orion felt a slimy caress against his hand.

He snapped.

He struck with his sword and then pierced towards the entrance. The Rockskin shrieked in agony as light filled the cave again, Orion simultaneously being sprayed with blood. He wiped his face and looked down, catching sight of the crimson tongue squirming like a worm. He stepped onto it, then kicked it away, his foot squelching with each move.

Glancing to the side, Orion saw Flynn and went to kneel by his side. The ginger-man had curled into a fetal position with his hands clutched against his stomach.

“Are you ok? Let me see,” Orion said as he moved Flynn’s hands, revealing a growing dark patch.

“No. Open my bag,” his companion said while feebly pushing back.

Self-aware he was no medic, Orion clenched his teeth and listened, taking the bag off Flynn and opening it.

“What do you want?”

“Yellow… paper,”

Orion found the wrapped up yellow paper and opened it, only to freeze.

The cave had stunk off damp mould, then of blood and fetid saliva. Now, another smell burst open and filled the cave with a distinctive scent. Toasty, nutty, and honey-like. There was no accompanying odour of manure, but instead one of sea salt. While Orion gaped at the opened package, Flynn gained the strength to get up from the released smell and took the package from his frozen companion. He put the paper to his face, to his nostrils, and snorted.

Orion woke up to the thud and looked at his collapsed companion. He moved over and stiffly took the paper, brushing his finger against it and looking at it in the cheerless light. It was powdered Gajoi nuts, ground up into salt-like crystals. He didn’t know how you could make something as soft and crumbly as Gajoi nuts into powder, but the dealers had done it. He threw the paper into the darkness and checked on Flynn. Flynn wasn’t breathing, and he wasn’t moving. Wearing an empty expression, Orion moved away and picked up his shortsword, then headed towards the entrance. Suddenly, a hand clasped his shoulder, and in shock, Orion punched.

Flynn didn’t even flinch, instead he smiled. “Kill,” he said cheerfully.

“No. Sit down. I’ll kill it,” Orion said, trying to gently seat him.

But instead of taking the advice, Flynn pulled Orion down and walked past, picking up his longsword and pulling himself to the outside. Orion hit the sullied ground and sighed.

He was sick, sick of the stench, sick of Flynn’s actions, sick of the contract. He growled as he rose; he might have been one of the weaker Zakari, but he was still a Zakari. Pride-fueled anger coursed through him, giving him a wild ferocity. He flung himself out of the cave and came into the murky-lit swamp.

Flynn was a few steps ahead, wasting the air in his lungs as he cackled at the Rockskin. The monster stood on a crumbled stone-wall with its back to Orion, observing the madman. It had learnt from its mistake in the cave, so it warily scanned for any traps, its sliced tongue filling its mouth with blood. But no matter how hard it looked, the human still looked like easy prey. Besides, its patience had already thinned out.

At the same time, Orion’s eyes whitened and boundless energy rushed into him. An icicle formed beside him, his right hand stretching it longer. In a matter of seconds, it was as long as a spear and reflected the foul scene back against the world.

The Rockskin leapt, its gaping maw showering Marshall’s Keep with blood, its claws heading straight for the ginger human. Then, a spear pierced through its lungs and out, the momentum pulling its body away from Flynn. The monster plunged into the ground, splashing dirty water. It tried to move but its mind faltered, sending the body into spasms.

The impact had felled Flynn and he now lay in the water drowning. Orion picked him up by his gambeson and dumped him on dry ground before walking to the Rockskin. He placed his left hand on the spear; the ice-spear exploded away from Orion, tearing into the Rockskin’s organs and into distant trees. He chopped with his sword and snapped the neck, plopping the head into water.

The Rockskin was a 3-star monster, but that was while on dry land. Prolonged exposure to water ruined its rock-hard skin, making it an easy target. Yet, Flynn had almost died against it.

Orion picked the head by its ear and walked back. He stepped on Flynn’s shield and picked it up to take a better look. Despite Flynn’s own advice, it seemed he hadn’t been wary enough as the Rockskin had whipped its tail against him, snapping the shield and tearing flesh off his stomach. This explained why he had screamed for them to retreat. Shaking his head, Orion dropped the broken shield and walked over to Flynn. He dropped the monster’s head beside his unconscious companion and slipped back into the reeking cave to get their bags. Placing the Rockskin’s head in Flynn’s bag, he used the packaged bandages on Flynn. While he wasn’t practised at dressing wounds, he did manage to treat them on a surface level.

He had considered killing Flynn, ending his miserable existence, but memories of his sister had prevented him from executing the drastic action. His sister had fallen much lower than Flynn, and yet she had managed to fix her life. Ending Flynn’s life would also end any hopes of a better life for the man, something Orion couldn’t bring himself to do.

He repacked the bags and placed them both on Flynn’s back, before hoisting his companion onto his back. They had only come to the outskirts of Marshall’s Keep but Orion was already eager to get out.

Three hours later, he was back on the dust track, piggybacking Flynn to Visgamar, the closest settlement. His whole body ached, and his arms and legs burned with pain. Nonetheless, he continued walking, aware that Visgamar was only a few hours more.

During the duration, he hadn’t come across a single traveller. But now, far behind them, he saw a small dot tracing his steps. Orion stopped and let Flynn down before stretching his numbed limbs.

The figure slowed as they got closer, their cloak hiding their face and body.

“Are you of faith?” Orion shouted, hoping it was another zealous farmer.

The cloaked figure didn’t respond.

Orion gripped his shortsword and tried again. “Do you trust in Fexa the Gracious? Please, I need your help,” he shouted.

Once again, the cloaked figure didn’t respond. Instead, they took out a shortsword and paced onwards.