The head priest hadn't been slouching while I was trapped by the Collector, he had sent out messages to people he trusted across the land about accepting an extra mouth or two. Most of the kids were relocated to different parts of the kingdom, just in case the Collector felt vengeful. Only a few were not able to be moved or demanded to stay, he advised against their decision but ultimately let them make the choice. Hann didn't know where any of them were sent specifically but assured me that they were all safe. Hann and I were about to leave as well, it wasn't safe for me to stay in the duchy anymore.

While I recovered the head priest held a fake funeral where an animal in a coffin was burned on a funeral pyre, Joan Briar was dead. I was entering the new duchy as Jo, an orphan without a family name who was taken in by Hann. She had no relatives to confirm or deny my story and I wouldn't need any paperwork to back me up. Orphans usually ended up in the slums unless someone took them in and they were often incorrectly declared dead so many didn't have paper proof of existing. It was a good way for me to just appear somewhere.

It was the dead of night just outside of Hann's place. The wagon before me was utterly strange. It was pulled by a large brown feline of some kind and the wheels were coated in a durable jelly, there were no windows and it was made of wood that was black as night. Where did it come from? How did Hann afford it? More importantly, where would you even go to buy such a shady looking wagon? I couldn't make sense of what I was seeing and thinking about it didn't help. There was a short and reedy figure dressed completely in black at the front of the carriage holding the striped beast's reigns.

"Don't ask questions Jo because I'm not answering, think of this as an extension of the favour I called in."

Before I could come up with a response the stick-like figure spoke,

"She can but I won't. Two down Hannibell. Twelve to go."

Its voice was raspy, hoarse and seemed to rattle, it almost hurt to listen to it speak.

"Not so fast, you didn't find Alessia's corpse. You haven't delivered your end of the bargain."

"I can't find what doesn't exist. That's not my problem. It's yours."

I almost couldn't keep up with the cryptic conversation being so casually exchanged.

"Who are y–"

Auntie Hann covered my mouth,

"Don't speak."

She seemed deadly serious so I stifled my curiosity for now.

"Always rude. Ever confident. Relax, Joan doesn't look like she has much to offer me."

Something about that response shook Hann to the core, she looked as pale as a ghost,

"That can't be right, how?"

"Fate is cruel."

It said with a tone that mimicked sincerity. It held up a hand and raised all three fingers. All three? I almost didn't believe it but my eyes didn't betray me.

"We will talk about this later."

Hann growled through gritted teeth as the cryptic thing croaked out a laugh. She dragged me by the arm and ushered me inside the wagon. My eyes widened as I stepped inside and saw the large pile of books, my clothes and my father's flamberge neatly tied up at the back. I ran my finger across the spine of the books, scanning each title as I went but there were quite a few I didn't recognise until one caught my eye 'The art of the word.’ All of the tainted trove was mixed in with my beloved books.

"Your mother worked hard for those Jo. Show your appreciation by reading all of them."

Hann scolded. I must have been making a face when I saw the title but something else was off about her. She was in an awful mood from her talk with the cryptic thing.

"I will."

I wasn't just agreeing to keep her happy. I couldn't afford to be ignorant anymore. Too many times I wished I had more information, more knowledge. Out of the group, there were at least a few books that might have proven useful: 'On Guilds and Charters’, 'Blade as Body', 'The mind unlocked'. I didn't want to think about where the books came from but I would be an idiot if I didn't make use of them. Learning more about tending, getting stronger and killing the Collector. They were goals that couldn't be achieved with half measures I needed to commit.

We were moving to the Smythe duchy. The journey was going to be a couple of weeks by wagon, followed by another few days on foot. I noticed how there didn't seem to be any supplies but Hann must have planned for us to stock up along the way. As the wagon set off it immediately veered from the well-travelled routes out of the village and into the wilderness. What should have been a bumpy mess of a ride was instead oddly smooth. The uneven plains didn't slow our progress at all.

With nothing much to do, I picked up the first of the tainted trove and laid eyes upon the fresh text. Once I got started I couldn't stop, my starved mind devoured the books one after another. At my pace, I could have probably finished my entire collection of forty-one books if I didn't sleep much during the trip. I only managed to get halfway through my second book when Hann yanked my sleeve from my mouth. While happily reading I had absent-mindedly gone back to my bad habit.

"You're not going to spend the whole time reading. I'm going to teach you how to fight, how to hunt, how to survive. I will not let you get that close to death again. We should be safe enough out here."

She walked to the back, unwrapped my father's sword and handed it to me. I could still barely hear the tavern goers chant quietly singing away within it. Hann was right. I couldn't spend all my time reading, besides her training, I wanted to see if my improved stamina would let me see more of my father's past. I was led out of the wagon and for the first time, I saw Hann manifest her Animus-Blade. It was a one-handed axe that belted out a rapid tune at a volume that felt like it would destroy my ears. The song was something I had a hard time categorising. It sounded almost like a guard captain shouting to keep the pace of a group march, just at a pace that would surely kill any human attempting to keep up.

Instead of one cutting edge on the front, it had two insanely thin ones directly next to each other. The tune was so fast that it made it hard to think, I wasn't even sure if I could tend with a song that quick. It was the third loudest sound I had ever heard, only just edged out by the head priest's chanting black greatsword. Hann could see my clear discomfort but didn't show mercy, when she spoke I had to strain my ears and read her lips because her voice was almost lost in the rapid tune. It was far easier to make out the head priest's words because the pitch of the blade was so much deeper than his voice but Hann and her axe sounded almost the same.

"Is my song loud?"

I nodded while trying to plug my ears but she yanked my hand away and held her axe next to my head. When right next to my head the sound was too maddening to stand. I yanked and struggled against her vice grip, I caught a glimpse of her face as I thrashed and it looked like she was straining against something. Sweat dripped from her brow and veins bulged in her forehead. I pulled as hard as I could until she let me go and I fell backwards onto my butt. Hann opened and closed her hand a couple of times before continuing,

"Your gift is a gigantic weakness. No powers and anyone with a good amount of strength can remove one of your senses just by existing. I will make sure that you can defend yourself. No, I will make sure that you can survive long past me and your mom. Let's start with the basics, the four styles of combat."