As the sun’s golden light was just beginning to wash over the fields, Cris was already at the door of a run-down house at the outskirts of the village. She knocked softly, in case the inhabitant had managed to find some sleep, but the concern was unneeded; the door opened with barely enough time for Cris to move out of the way.

“Miss Ophelia… may I come in?” Cris asked. The early morning frost was biting into her skin. The woman—the same one who had begged the soldiers the previous day—led her inside and into the living room. The fire was dying, but the remnant heat saved Cris from shivering.

“Hm? Is somebody else there?” the woman asked, towards the front door.

“It’s just me,” Cris said.

“T-Thought I heard the door again. Must be the lack of sleep. When are you going?” the woman asked with a raspy voice.

“Very soon,” Cris answered. “We are meeting at nine. I wanted to ask you a question first.”

Ophelia sighed. She knew what was going to be asked of her, and how difficult a question it was to answer.

“Did Holly go into the cellar, or not?” Cris asked. After a moment of silence, she continued. “Varus agreed to search for the girls with the condition that we would only do a single outing. Today we will only have time to search either the area, or the cellar. We can’t do both, so unless you tell me—”

“She was with that brat, that should tell you enough,” Ophelia scorned.

“Varus won’t want to risk the cellar unless he has reason to believe they might be down there. And Holly swore against going down there again,” Cris pondered aloud, “but if she wasn’t clean like she said…” Cris decided to be direct, otherwise she’d get nowhere. “Is Holly still addicted?”

As the girl’s mother, Ophelia simply couldn’t bring herself to answer that. But she did eventually nod towards a basket on a nearby table.

“Those are the mostwurm herbs the girls went to pick for me,” she said. “Took them all day it did… I figured that they had to go far to find any at all.”

The basket in question had just a few measly stalks of the herb piled in it. Not the amount you’d expect from a day of foraging. Cris was unsure whether Ophelia was intentionally implying something, but an implication was there.

Ophelia swayed her way to the kitchen and handed a small cloth bag over to Cris.

“If you see Holly, please give her these…”

“What is it?” Cris asked.

“They’re buns I made, using the mostwurm. It… it helped her to recover. She loves them.”

Cris nodded, and decided it best to leave at this juncture. If she stayed here and recalled too many of her memories with Holly, she’d become tempted to enter that cellar whether Varus agreed to it or not.

I was as yet still barely awake when Cris dragged me out into the street, giving me time only to get dressed into my borrowed clothes, which barely sufficed against the morning chill regardless. I very nearly complained, but I wasn’t certain that Cris wouldn’t discard me into the streets, even against what her parents might think.

It was a short tussle to the edge of town, where a small decrepit hut sat.

“This is the barracks,” Cris said. “For the once per decade we need one.”

The place certainly looked as if it hadn’t been used for years, however there was activity inside at the moment. A large, well-built man came out the door, wearing an almost complete getup of leather armour with metal plating haphazardly affixed here and there.

“So, this is the patient the Mercujiles’ picked up!” he stormed, highly pumped. “Say, did you not say you found a girl half-dead just a few days ago? Is this a different one?”

“No, this is the one,” Cris said. “Her name is Syco. She’s agreed to join us for today. This,” she said to me, “is Varus.”

Varus scratched his head. Towering a good foot above me, he blocked out the sun as he apparently inspected me. “Sure she’s up to it? Some more rest might be for the best?”

“Hey, I’m the doctor here,” Cris said. “She’s fine. Right, Syco?”

In fact, despite holding on to some exhaustion, my body felt plenty spry. I nodded obediently.

“Well, alright,” Varus shrugged. “And doctor my arse, you just hold the knives,” he added. Cris made to kick him but he danced away, much more lightly than his form would suggest possible.

Cris side-eyed me for a moment. “You seem pretty unconcerned with what I’m dragging you into,” she said questioningly.

I shrugged, somewhat unintentionally mimicking Varus’s demeanour. “It is true that I owe you greatly for tending to me. You saved my life, most likely. It’s only natural to return an equal favour.”

Cris nodded. “It’s not necessary to repay anything, that’s the philosophy Mother and Father have always lived by… We are going a short way to search for a couple missing girls,” she explained. “We don’t have any proper fighters here, which is why we hoped some of the passing soldiers might take it upon themselves to… Well, that was a stupid hope.”

“That man, Varus, is not a ‘fighter’?” I asked.

Cris laughed and shook her head. “He might fancy himself one, sure. But, though it’s unlikely, there is always a risk of danger out there.” The direction Cris looked was towards where the sky was still tinged maroon and black, Darvaza. “You don’t have to come. An extra set of eyes is helpful—“

“I will go,” I said.

“Do you know, how to use a weapon? Or something?” Cris asked. She was looking at my left hand. Unaware of it myself, I was clenching it, my fingers beckoning for something to grasp and utilize.

“I’m, uh, unsure,” I said.

“It’s okay. I’ll protect you in any case,” Cris said, as though it was simply a matter of fact. A small group, with Varus at the head, finally left the barracks.

“Okay, off to the poppy cellar,” Cris sighed.