“WHO ARE YOU people?” The guy had apparently been waiting for them to finish, judging by the way he was staring at them.

Robin had just finished relaying his very brief exchange with the wounded man to a stunned Medea, who’d yet to do much more than nod after their own somewhat awkward conversation, and it seemed like a good idea to let her stew on his words for a bit. He took a second to actually look at the man for the first time.

He was a little shorter than Robin, which probably put him somewhere just south of six feet, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. He had a handsome face with a square jaw covered in stubble, and wore loose-fitting, plain brown garments made of some kind of thin cloth. Robin thought it best not to make assumptions about what cloth—it could be made from magical moon plants for all he knew.

“Robin Sinclair.” He held out a hand, and motioned toward Medea with his head. “That’s Medea.”

The man eyed his outstretched hand with suspicion, and didn’t extend his own. Whether that meant he didn’t know what a handshake was or just didn’t trust Robin was yet to be determined. Robin shrugged, letting his hand fall back to his side.

“Gedd,” the man grunted. “Never seen either of you before, so I know you’re not from Lowrest. Why are you out here?”

“Oh, you know… just seeing the sights,” Robin waved an arm around. “Lots of lovely trees and rocks and… foresty stuff.”

For some reason, he’d decided to give Gedd the impression he was a moron. It wasn’t even like he was a bad liar… he just occasionally took issue with answering direct questions… or any questions. Some sort of unresolved issue from his childhood, no doubt. Gedd gave off an even greater aura of completely justifiable suspicion after that, and Robin knew he’d have to concede something. Why he’d decided to lie now after spilling damn near all of the beans to Medea was a mystery even to him; maybe it was just simple bias from vastly differing first impressions.

He sighed, feigning reluctant shame. “Alright, so maybe we got robbed blind, and maybe I let them take what they wanted,” Robin said, gesturing at his lack of clothing. “But even I couldn’t just sit by and let them hurt a woman.” His tone was grave, and he saw Gedd eying Medea’s state of disarray with varying degrees of anger and disgust, the girl herself still looking a little shell shocked in her torn robe-skirt. “You know as well as I they wouldn’t stop at relieving her of her possessions. I hit one of them over the head, and we ran straight into the woods. Got away somehow… but we’ve been lost out here for I’m not sure how long now.”

Gedd nodded, apparently buying it. “It makes my blood boil, but sadly doesn’t come as a surprise. People are getting desperate, what with these starcursed fiends walking around… as you just saw. It’s only a matter of time until we’re forced to remain in our homes.”

He grit his teeth, face turning an ugly shade of red. “And then what? With no fields to grow our food and no access to the river or even the wells, how will we survive? Are we expected to die in our homes while these… these monsters destroy everything we’ve worked so hard to build? What are the highlords thinking? Don’t they know who puts the food on their golden tables?”

He’d been yelling by the end, and only just seemed to realize how incensed he’d gotten. His eyes grew wide and panicked, and he looked around as if to make sure he hadn’t been overheard. “I’m… I’m sorry. Please don’t repeat what I said to anyone. I didn’t mean it. I’m sure the highlords understand our concerns.”

Bandits robbing people blind? Monsters that wanted Robin’s head on a platter? Glaring wealth disparity between social classes? Hell, Gaia was starting to feel like home already.

“I’m not going to tell on you,” Robin said. “More importantly, is it safe to have this conversation here?” He glanced at their surroundings, noting with some concern the forest was deathly quiet.

Gedd surprised him with a bitter laugh. “Safe? Nowhere is safe. Not unless you have a great big gods-damned barrier to keep the monsters out.”

“…And you don’t have a great big gods-damned barrier,” Robin stated, gaining a slightly better grasp on the bigger picture.

The man give him a sharp look. “Aye, we do not.” He sighed. “But you’re welcome in my home for the night, if it suits you all the same. That is, if you’ve nowhere to stay. It’s the least I can do to repay you for saving my life.”

Robin wasn’t convinced they’d done anything at all, but he wasn’t about to turn down the offer. It was a good opportunity to slow down and process everything that’d happened, and they just so happened to be in dire need of food and water. If he was lucky, Gedd would even find him some pants.

He turned to relay the information to Medea, and Gedd’s gaze followed his. The man’s face went pale as a sheet, his eyes growing wide with fear.

“Those eyes… it cannot be…”

“Gedd?” Robin asked, uncertain what was happening.

The man turned on Robin, red-faced. “You did not mention your companion was blighted!”

“Robin,” Medea said, her voice laced with concern. “What is happening?”

“I don’t know,” he said, holding up a hand to forestall her questions. “Just… hold on a minute.”

“What does that mean, Gedd?” he pressed. “What blight are you talking about? She’s obviously not sick.”

“But,” he sputtered. “Her eyes. She bears the mark of the blighted!”

“Robin…”

He sighed. There was little reason to hide it from her, even if the man’s claims sounded like nonsense. “Something about a blight. He thinks you have it.”

She mouthed the word blight to herself, brow furrowed in confusion.

Upon seeing neither of them had any idea what he was talking about, Gedd let some of the tension drain from his shoulders. “You mean to tell me you didn’t know?”

“No.” Robin shook his head, feeling rather annoyed with the man’s abrupt change in demeanor towards Medea. First impression bias or not, she’d quite literally given Robin the clothes off her back when others would have run screaming. He was on her side first. “We still don’t, actually. Neither of us have ever heard of any blight.”

Of course, he’d only been on Gaia for a few hours, and Medea had been asleep for who knew how long… so they weren’t exactly up to date on current events.

“I…” Gedd looked between the two of them, anger and confusion warring on his face. “How can you not know…? She is diseased!”

Robin shook his head in disgust, putting a hand on Medea’s shoulder to guide her away. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“What happened?” She was obviously worried, but he was pleased to note she didn’t try to shake him off. On some level, she was alright following his lead. That was good—they’d need a rapport if they wanted to survive.

“He’s got some wrong ideas about us,” Robin said, grinding his teeth. “Some people are just like that—there’s no helping them.”

“Wait,” she pleaded, gently tugging on his hand. He turned around to see her looking at him differently, her big eyes staring up at him full of uncertainty. Something in her had changed—the animosity she’d held since they’d met had all but vanished… but there was something else too. Buried somewhere beneath all the worry and the fear was an ember of resolve. “Let me try. Please.”

He nodded, somewhat lost for words. If Medea thought there was something more she could do, it wasn’t his place to stop her. She beamed a radiant smile, genuinely thankful to have his blessing, and approached Gedd slowly. The man stood his ground, but it was obvious he was afraid.

“Gedd? I am Medea,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest.

Gedd looked to Robin for help. “What is she…? I don’t… I don’t understand what she’s saying.”

Robin remained silent.

“I apologize for scaring you,” Medea continued, taking a step closer. “I know not what you mean by blight, but my friend and I are a long way from home. We want for food and water. I know you cannot understand me, but I hope you will see I am not what you believe me to be. I am no threat to you. Please help us, Gedd. Your kindness will not be misplaced—I swear it. Please.”

Gedd clearly had no idea what she was saying, but it didn’t matter—Medea’s ruthless onslaught of sincerity would’ve been too much for anyone. Her heartfelt plea was just so damn… genuine. Robin was used to seeing the worst in humanity, but her words struck some place deep in his chest and stayed there.

Who was this girl?

“Do you need me to translate?” Robin asked, quietly.

Gedd frowned. “It’s plain enough. She asks for help.”

Robin just nodded, watching Gedd closely for his response. He fully expected Medea’s plea to fall on deaf ears, but he wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t hoping she would get through to the man. He’d thought by now such naive expectations had been stamped out of him… but hope was a slow and insidious disease that could never truly be excised.

“I…” Gedd sighed, staring at anything and everything but Medea. “…She’ll need to cover her eyes. If anyone sees the mark… well, best to avoid that.”

Robin couldn’t believe what he was seeing. That actually worked? She’d convinced a man to go against his fear—his very nature—in a way that couldn’t possibly benefit him? And all she’d had to do was ask nicely?

Robin relayed Gedd’s words, causing Medea to beam a smile at the man that might have been brighter than the sun. This behavior was a far cry from her earlier attitude. What’d happened to all that snark?

Maybe she’d just woken up cranky?

Gedd coughed, rubbing his neck. “One night. Food, drink, clothes. That’s all. Just one.” He turned and began walking away, motioning for them to follow.

Medea turned to Robin, a victorious smile on her face and a quip ready on her lips. Then something happened, and whatever she was about to say died in her throat as her mouth snapped shut. She looked away from Robin, deflating like a popped balloon, and gave a brief nod before turning and following Gedd into the woods.

Robin was confused to say the least. Hadn’t they just begun to build that rapport? He hadn’t thought their conversation earlier had been that harsh, but somehow it’d shattered whatever confidence she’d felt in their budding companionship. That he wasn’t certain what the problem was might spell said companionship’s doom—it wouldn’t be the first time he’d unwittingly sabotaged a good thing for himself.

As he made to follow, the reflection of something in the grass caught his eye.

The black sword; the one the monster had abandoned. He hadn’t given their encounter with the monster much consideration yet—or anything else, for that matter—but it really had been strange. Why had the monster discarded what was very obviously a superior weapon for something as ill-fitting as a that little knife? The thing had looked like a toy in its hands.

He shook his head, sighing again. He’d been doing that a lot lately, but it seemed a reasonable response to being dropped in a world he could scarcely understand. Before he let himself get too deep down that particular rabbit hole, he knelt and retrieved the sword, feeling the heft of it in his hands. The obsidian blade was sleek and razor sharp, and though Robin knew little of what a proper sword was supposed to feel like, he couldn’t deny it felt good. The black leather hilt seemed to fit perfectly in his palm.

“Yeah… you’re coming with me.”