In him truly, he sees the man that saved his life in this boy. Their eyes being the same, he thinks, looking at the lad who stands like he's ready for war; his fists clench, his chest out, eyes focus, the Jacqawin speechless as he never knew Fredrik had a son, with eyes so bright, a brightness he turns his back to, showing the boy only the darkness of who he's become, sighing to this surprise of an encounter.

"Go home..." The Jacqawin solely demands to the boy, continuing his investigation on the ruins, checking places in search of additional clues, only hearing as his footsteps are overlapped by his, turning to the headstrong boy who seems to not have an awareness of someone wanting to be left alone.

"No," The lad challenges. "I can help you! Then after, we talk"

"There's nothing to talk about," The Jacqawin replies, not even bearing his sight upon him.

"Yes, there is!" Bjørn reassures, flustered as he’s ignored by the Jacqawin who begins paying him no mind, taking a deep breath, trying to remain calm, as certain words become summoned on the tip of his tongue, not wanting him to take in any other way. "The killer is still out there!"

Shivers on his back, the memories of that night awakens in his search, and his attention the boy gets, the hand of the Jacqawin flickered to the words from the boy's mouth as if every single memory of that time came rushing to his head in seconds, feeling as his rage takes its stage, merging within his soul and possessing his armour, then hearing as growls echo above, hearing as the beast nears.

"Hide," The Jacqawin commands the boy, quickly getting into cover with Bjørn doing the same, as he watches as the beast comes out its cover, now sure it had heard something, looking down onto the terrain carefully as to not miss any detail, reaching lower and lower, closer and closer.

Bjørn and the Jacqawin kept steady as it does its own analyses, down at their it reaches, checking each corner and cover, its movement very careful and clever, an intelligent move the Jacqawin realizes he must adapt to, going cover to cover, taking his moves carefully as well, looking over at Bjørn who remains still, the lad understanding that the beast is coming his way. So he begins following in the footsteps of the warrior, also changing from one cover to another, careful like the warrior, though lacking the same level of style and efficiency, a thing got costs him dearly, as from his improperly closed bag, dropped is his water bottle to the ground, its skin of stainless steel clunking and vibrating as it rattles around, quickly stopped by the boy who hastily grabs hold of it, sighing as too late as alerted goes the beast. Step by step, the beast carefully makes its way to the origin of the noise, and second by second, Bjørn grows eager to make a move, having nowhere else to hide, as any more moves would be sure to alert the beast. But there has to be a way, he thinks, looking to the Jacqawin in any plans, the warrior also thinking as he takes a glance at the beast getting very close, its claws scratching against a column as it nears Bjørn's cover. Looking at the boy once more, at his bright eyes, all the warrior can think of is the day Fredrik came to his assistance, forever grateful, coming to a conclusion, as he promises the boy will not be harmed. Out of his hiding he lunges, to the beast that jumps at his appearance, observing his armour dark and frightful, looking straight into the eyes of his hallowed helm, already sensing something dark within that crawls at its skin, getting itself into a stance as it prepares for battle, ready to fight for its life. But only goes an item that rolls at its feet, an explosion of smoke that spreads fast from the metal ball thrown by the Jacqauin, blinding its vision.

"Run to another cover! Quickly!" The Jacqawin commands Bjørn, the boy quickly running away as the beast begins wildly attacking through the smoke, destroying the rubbles of columns in its way, flustered by the warrior's surprise attack.

Its claws swiping through the air, finally it is set free from its blindness as the smoke clears away, though seeing no sign of the ones that attacked it, as above they stay steady, being one level above, looking down on the beast confused on where they've gone as it circles the level. There the Jacqawin looks into the opportunities in landing a great strike, as now he preps for battle. Yet, hesitant he becomes, as now he no longer fights on his own, but with a nuisance of a stubborn boy he has to keep tamed, the lad seemingly being able to understand what the Jacqawin is communicating to him under that mask, as he catches as the warrior shake his head, not to get in his way, the boy sighing to the letdown he achieves, turning his back as he sits by the column, already bored out of his mind. And with clearing himself of that nuisance, by the tail of the monster, the Jacqawin shadows the beast, the Jacqawin throwing a bait towards a more closed location the monster tracks, its sense of smell luring it deeper and deeper within the ruins, the light of the sun descends dimmer as they go further, to a place the Jacqawin sees fit for a monster who will attack wildly, confined by the small area, a place also lowering the chances of it escaping. There the beast reaches, and above it stands the Jacqawin who unsheathes his swords, the wind at his cape strongly as he looks down on the beast that will serve as his prey for today.

Into the air he springs, launching himself with his foot bounced from the wall of the structure, his sword in his hands, diving against the wind, striking the beast with a powerful strike at its side, rolling back into his stance perfectly, ready to take on the beast. It swipes its claws, its might as powerful as a truck, avoided by the warrior who easily dodges with every step, the warrior's mind remained composed, easily overwhelmed by the seasoned warrior who seems to be two steps ahead, as if its moves were being accurately predicted, punished by the strikes of his sword at its recklessness. But there it does something the Jacqawin could not predict, as it begins learning how to use the confined space promptly, jumping onto one of the columns with an overhead strike with a powerful trajectory from its leap, then using rubbles as throwable to throw the Jacqawin off his composure, challenging the Jacqawin who work to not be hit by any of the projectiles, struck by the beast who swipes under the distraction of rubbles, the Jacqawin astonished at its level of intelligence, as it is a feat he has not to experience in all the other drakes he's fought, feeling as his armour is impacted, the heavyweight of its tail slapping him away, throwing the warrior off his feet and into a roll. Quickly the Jacqawin regains his stance, and more than ever, he grows more interested in this battle as the beast takes steps towards him, seeming prideful as if it mocks the warrior. But short-lived goes that pride, as stronger becomes that darkness surging within him, the Jacqawin disrupted once as above he views, at the boy who dives through the air as well, striking a deep stab on the other side of its belly, grunting as he pulls and pulls at his sword, fearing it may have become stuck within its flesh.

"No! Not Again!!" Bjørn grunts, yelling as rock goes his balance as the beast roars in getting him off, this scenario becoming awfully familiar to him as reminded he becomes of a past battle, thrown into a column that shocks a gasp out of him with his sword dashed beside him, looking up at the beast running towards him to get its kill, his shaking hand grabbing his as he refuses to go out as a drake's meal.

"No!" The Jacqawin yells, rushing against the beast with a heavy turn of his blade, tumbling the beast with a strike to its face, its blood splattering into the air, the Jacqawin hearing a swift movement on his left as suddenly appears Bjørn with a strike of his own, slicing away one of the claws of the beast, painting his sword of blood as well.

As he was thought to stay put, the Jacqawin shakes his head at Bjørn's unyielding presence, but so he accepts there is nothing he can do about it but to get him out alive, for this moment, risen is the beast once more, and together they focus to take it down. On both sides it suffers damage, its attacks stiffen by its wounds, still confined by the small area. So it chooses another strategy, as it runs toward elevation, throwing its pride away as a mighty beast, gunning to escape in climbing up from the area, its wounds making it harder as each lift stings its wounds. And of course, it would not be so easy, as above, it sees the Jacqawin already beating it to the top, looking down at the beast frozen in place, its eyes averting back down, at Bjørn with his sword held firm, waiting for it to make a choice. And wondering who it should take its chances with, conflicted in taking its chance in still going up or getting back down in that limited space, the Jacqawin makes it easy to choose, as landed on his face is an equip the Jacqawin pulls, a flashbang set off in its eyes, then seeing as outlines of feet drops down in its face by the he who jumps in forcing it back to the area, the monster crashing with a devastating blow that worsens its wounds, used as the safe landing of the warrior, kept one place as now its will lost to fight has been lost to this warrior.

"W-We defeated it!" Bjørn excites, laughing as he raises his hands into the air, breathing heavily from the exhaust of the fight, calmed down as his smile dims, the Jacqawin not as relieved as he is. "Come on! Aren't you happy? We did a job well done!"

"It isn't over," The warrior tells him, Bjørn confused as he sees the monster not able to move anymore, wondering what he's talking about.

"What, you normally watch your hunt die? It's not fighting anymore," Bjørn assures him.

"No, this isn't a normal job, kid," The Jacqawin states, Bjørn head shaking as he views the warrior as grumpy, but slowly he finds that he's right, his jaw dropped, as before his very eyes, he sees as the beast begins shrinking, the sound of cracks and groans invading his ears, as the monster transforms into a person, her ears long and pointy, her eyes the colour red, and skin grey like the colourless sky after the sun is gone. "My jobs are never normal"

"A grey elf?? Huh?" Bjørn begins blinking rapidly, not believing his eyes, as before him, a grey elf lies naked, her skin covered in her own blood, apart of her face cut open and one of her fingers lost from his very strike, watching as a single tear drops from her eye, feeling sorry at the state she's in as he could never guess it was a person, his hand fidgeting in wanting to help her, as he watches the Jacqawin plant his foot onto her deep wound with his sword in hand. "H-Hey! What are you doing??! She's being beaten already!"

"From the very second day I was tracking you, I knew something was strange," The Jacqawin tells her, hearing her groan in pain beneath his feet, watching as her legs fidget, weakly, her strength gone from the battle. "For being disguised as a drake, you really should have paid attention to what you were doing, and you chose to be a male, too. Every location I tracked you, not once did you ever mark your territory, nor did you seem interested in the animal life too. Odd, for the days I tracked you, not once I saw you eat. What? Too elegant to eat like an animal too? I wanted to see what you really were, and you lead me right to your nest too"

"Hey...you know you can't just kill her, right?" Bjørn challenges the warrior, his sword held firmly in his hand, sensing his malice, hoping he doesn't make the wrong choice.

"I know. But there is something else that I want from her, and she's going to give it to me," The Jacqawin declares, the woman groaning to greater pain that plagues her, at his foothold strengthened at her wound. "Where?"

With just that question, to a path her finger points, to a level lower than they are, Bjørn checking out to be a fleet of stairs leading somewhere beneath the ruins, the Jacqawin wasting no time to get on the track, grabbing hold of her hair, the pain of his grip feeling like he's about to rip off her head off as she's dragged along with him the way she is, her legs shaking, truly fearful of this warrior, his anger, the darkness that plagues the armour of he who wears it, her breathing heavy as she stresses on what will happen to her after he gets what he wants, her dried, cut lips shivered as she begins begging for mercy, her tongue foreign, sensing the presence of the almighty Jacqawin within him, Bjørn understanding that is an enemy but disturbed by the way the Jacqawin handles a wounded and scared person. Directions after directions, path after path, within this underground lair they explore, the light from the sun only stream of rays peeking within, hollowed by the atmosphere seemed blue, mostly quiet with the echoes of something there with them, and that they find, the Jacqawin seeing six goblins posted upfront, naked of barely any armour and low tier weapons, the warrior throwing the woman to the ground without any care, as to them he reveals himself.

Confused by this warrior's appearance, slowly they rise, weapons in hand as casually he makes pace towards them, the creatures stunned at this one man's bravery, watching as he takes his time in unsheathing his giant blade in next dashing in full speed. And in him they begin to also sense that darkness too, his presence drawn near, but too late it is for them who now face this man underprepared, one's head gone off its body, the warrior smashing the head of another into the wall with his foot, his blade crushing the jaw of the third, an attack it could have dodged, but was too shell struck with terror to move, dropping to the ground as it bleeds out with begging for its life, the Jacqawin swiftly taking care of the fourth and fifth, lastly looking as the sixth shaking in fear, running off with getting a sword through its belly by Bjørn who appeared, kicking it away to the ground.

"So, what is it that you want in a place like this?" Bjørn questions, the Jacqawin too busy moving away the bodies to answer the boy, setting his hands upon a structure of door made of a wheel, pushing it to the side, it's sounds of creaks irritating the boy whose jaw drops once more in seeing another twist, of beaten and scared ones who cower in their little whole, the kidnapped civilians hidden here for the greater plan of these monsters.

Their eyes laid upon the warrior, absolutely grateful, their hands clasped in thanking the gods for sending a saviour, giving them salvation, their legs weak, crawling from the hole they were confined in, they're movement sluggish like they haven't been fed properly for days, being cramped up in that little room with their bodies carrying a foul stench, the warrior looking into the hole at the last one who remains, at a man who seems to be in his young twenties with his head wavering, his body quivering, to see that something was taken away from, his body painted of dried up blood dulled into the colour brown, the wound looking like it was done around ten days ago and was treated as much as it can by the others, the Jacqawin examines, seeing that his left leg is missing.

"T-They ate it, sire. They ate his leg," one survivor shivers, the warrior already guessing that would have been the case, looking into the eyes of this broken man, his eyes so cold, the Jacqawin seeing something he finds himself familiar with, as in the man's eyes is hopelessness, the feeling of his life being over, with Bjørn taking every edible thing from his bag, sharing with the other survivors who are glad to have something to properly eat at last, their behaviours like starved dogs as they eat with no patience.

"Kid," The Jacqawin calls Bjørn, the boy stood up by his call, anticipating his order. "I need you to carry this one. He can't walk on his own"

"Yeah," Bjørn nods, going into the hole with taking his time carrying the man out, placing him over his shoulders, awaiting his next orders.

"Let's go," the Jacqawin says, firstly going to where he dropped off the woman, the boy surprised as he finds she hasn't even moved a muscle, thinking how much must one be feared for you to not even try an escape, watching as her hair is grabbed once again by the warrior who leads the rest out to the surface.

The light on their faces, some could not help but to tear up, some dropped to their knees in hearing nature in their ears, once more hearing the chirps of the birds. Onto the back of his horse, the Jacqawin ties the woman's hands and feet, then sets the injured man in front of the woman, as the Jacqawin then leads his horse in choosing to walk along with everybody else.

***

In an hour of walking down the mountain, by civilization they reach, at last, they sigh, out of any more potential harm's way, and surprise are all who views the absurdity of these messy people, their helping hands quickly taking them off the hands of the warrior, prepping meals and clothes, with one citizen going to the Jacqawin with shaking his hand, smiling proudly with his head nodding.

"Jacqawin! Thank you! By the gods, I can't imagine how frightened they must be," The old man shakes his hand, completely filled with gratitude to the warrior.

And with this job done, onto his next goal the Jacqawin embarks on, and there Bjørn realizes he's being left behind, as so comes a close to their duo, the Jacqawin walking past him without a word, going by his way as to say this is where they part ways, the boy turned around with watching as he walks off, shaking his head. So he understands who this man is, a man cursed to live his life as the avatar of a dark goddess, his life only ever knowing pain and suffering, as in his way, he too has become the very thing he had sworn to fight against, a monster, watching as he rides off with the woman still at the back of his horse. And clenching his fist, this time the boy is truly determined, as now he knows not to give in to the man's sense of solitude, but to keep pushing, promising himself that he will save him from his darkness.