A storm was running wild across the sky in Old Burrow, yet it wasn't the thing that chased all the villagers into their homes and caused the guards to gather around a single house. No, that wasn't nature's doing. The skies were weeping just like the locals and roaring with thunder as did the guards in the streets with their voices. "Murder! Murder has happened! Everyone, stay inside! For your own safety!" shouted the armored men, clad in brown raincoats with the symbol of a nearby larger city. They had come here not out of choice, but of duty. Their captain gave them a direct order - to make sure nobody interrupts the investigation. It has been years since somebody dropped dead in Old Burrow. Whether it was a monster, beast, or a person, the cause of the death had to be found and disposed of. Unsolved murder in any village would only cause fear. Fear would lead to unrest. And poorly resolved unrest would cause an uprising. The king knew this very well. And so he asked for the best man he could.

While four armed officers were standing outside, enduring the raging weather as bravely as they could, a single man was investigating the scene inside. He was dressed in all black. Pants, tunic, vest, and a rather large poncho that easily hid his body. He has been crouching over the corpse for a solid ten minutes until one of the guards finally ran out of patience.

"Hey! We're here standing in a fucking storm. At least let us go inside!"

"Huh? Oh, no no no, unacceptable. One wrong move and you would disrupt the whole scene. It must be exactly as it was found. No people inside," the man responded without taking a single eye off the recently departed. His eyes were red as if he spent a day staring into the sun, yet he barely blinked throughout his entire investigation.

"Fuck that! You've had your chance. Half an hour here and ten minutes over that poor fucker. Tell us what killed him so we can go grab whoever or whatever had done it," the guard replied and both he and his friend moved into the house, shaking off water.

"Oh, you... God damn it! Now everything is wet. Who knows what you've disrupted now."

"Come on, after so long, you must already know what happened. They said you are a specialist. King Esten asked for you personally. So come on. Do your magic, charlatan!"

The man's eyes almost instantly shifted towards the guard. The detective pierced him with his gaze for a while, before finally standing up again. "Fine, here's what I know. The attackers came through the door. Yes, you heard me right, attackers. Several. There is mud on the floor. Or at least... was, before you apes smeared it all over the place. The mud, however, wasn't anywhere else. The poor fellow had his shoes on and those were clean. Only owned two pairs, with the other also clean in the wardrobe over there. Therefore, he wasn’t the one who brought the mud here. Also, judging by the quantity of it, it would've taken several trips out and back in to get so much of it inside. But then why would the murderer return so many times. Therefore, it wasn't just one person who made this mess. Then, since the mud is only at the entrance, it is clear that they attacked him with something ranged. Yet his wounds are a combination between piercing and blunt trauma. Since they didn't walk further in, they didn't have the need to retrieve the weapon. Therefore, they most likely used a flail or some similar weapon with a magical ability to return back to its user. But one with such reach... That would have to be custom-made. Then, there are these smashed pieces of the wooden supports. From the damage, I can tell that the angle of the attack was towards the leftmost corner of the room. But the victim must've dodged. But then he hid behind this small wall... And the scratch marks on it indicate an attack from the side. As if the weapon curved mid-flight."

The guards stood there, watching the description of the scene, completely stunned. To them, this place looked as normal as ever, not taking into account the slowly decaying corpse.

"So... what killed him?"

"That is the problem. A long flail that curves... Or a magical weapon. And murderers who didn't bother cleaning the scene or disposing of the body. They are confident."

"So... maybe a hired assassin?"

"Assassins wouldn't make such a mess. No... This was to be a message. The question is who sent it and why," the man pulled out a large thermal canister filled to the brim with coffee black as night and took a big swig. "Ah, well, nothing else I can do here. Let's take this elsewhere." The detective headed off into the inn and the rest of the guards dispersed.

That night was practically sleepless for the investigator. He spent hours upon hours rummaging through all the notes he had, trying to at least somehow connect what he knew to any possible killers in the area. If the poor guy really died only for a message to be sent, then what did it mean? And who was it intended for? Towards the morning, when the coffee in his obnoxiously tall mug finally started to run out, he headed back downstairs. He barely slept that night, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. Once a new case appeared, there was simply no rest for the not-so-wicked.

He sat down at the bar and waved with the mug at the barkeep. "Hey, can I get a refill?"

"Into that thing? Fine, but you'll have to wait for me to brew some more."

"That's completely fine, I can wait," he replied and unloaded a mountain of his notes onto the bar table. Some of them started to soak in the few stray drop of liquids that have survived on the wooden desk.

On the other end of the bar, something else was happening, yet it didn't escape the detective's eyes. Nothing ever did, as he often boasted. There was an elf clad completely in dark, ragged clothes sitting on one of the stools, slurping in the locally famous pasta with cream-mushroom sauce, and writing something into a small worn notebook. On the ground next to him, leaning against the bar, was a complex musical instrument - a hurdy-gurdy. It was indeed an unusual sight. Elves would rarely visit this place. Let alone one that would be a bard dressed in such terribly dirty clothing. It was almost as if he was a human if the pointy ears didn't speak of his origin. Everything else about him was unusual, including the shorter height, about the same as the average human, and the long, dark, greasy hair, which was nothing like those of the crazy colors that were so typical for the elven race.

The elf was enjoying his food far too much. The smooth texture of the sauce, mixed with the rather heavy and prominent taste of the local mushrooms was something so stunning he had to capture it among his other notes. Each page in that small notebook was dedicated to a different dish. This included the currently served pasta. However, the musician seemed so invested in eating, that he didn't appear to have noticed the few stray ruffians sitting at a table behind him. They have been eyeing the precious instrument for a while now and once they came to the conclusion that it probably won't be very well guarded, they sprang into action. It all happened incredibly fast. Two of them threw an old potato sack over the elf's head, while the third snatched the instrument and started running away with it as if thunder was chasing him.

"Oh, come on. I'm not in the mood. Give it back," the elf mumbled, utterly annoyed that his meal was ruined. By the time he removed the bag from his head, however, he got to see something extraordinary.

The thief with the stolen instrument didn't know what happened. In his mind, he was simply running away, when all of a sudden, somebody turned off the lights. He did not see the detective's fist connecting with his face, nor the moment when his instantly unconscious body fell onto a nearby table.

"I haven't been reading any of the new declarations lately, but I believe theft is still punishable by law," the detective mumbled, half yawning.

The other thieves panicked. Obviously, this man was a threat to them, but unfortunately, they mistook the whole situation for an organized trap of both the investigator and the elven musician. Desperate to avenge their comrade, who might've as well been dead, as far as their knowledge went, they smashed two bottles against the table, ready to use them as weapons.

"No no no! Not the glass! Not the glass!" the elf panicked. He quickly grabbed the plate with his dish and started running away with it, hoping to avoid any of the hazardous shards making it inside.

"Stop him!" One of the thieves shouted and began swinging the sharp bottle at him. The elf, who seemed to be more concerned about the state of his meal, rather than his own safety, dodged out of the way, while desperately shouting: "Stop! You're gonna ruin the food!" And truly, it didn't take long for the elf to trip, dropping the plate in the process.

"Ah! You absolute dickhead!" He croaked at the armed thief and quickly picked himself off the ground. "Come on then. Let's get it over with. Take a swing." The thief listened and tried to slash the man's face. He simply leaned out of the way, as if it was no big deal at all. "No, you're doing it all wrong. Come, I'll show you why."

When the attacker went for a stab, the elf moved out of the way again, only this time, he grabbed the man's arm. "You are incredibly predictable. Now I've got you. I can twist your wrist like this... Ah! There we go! The weapon gets dropped, you're unarmed, in my range, easy to punch." The elf did just as he said and landed a well-aimed right hook right into the man's jaw. "And now you're really fucking dizzy, huh?"

"Uhhh..." the thief couldn't bring himself to respond. It all happened too quickly.

"Uh-huh? Yeah, thought so. Go sit it out," the elf replied and pushed the confused man into the nearest chair.

In the meantime, the detective found himself in an annoying predicament. His line of work was not focused on combat, but he had to have at least some training in the matters of self-defense. After all, quite a few criminals would love to kill a detective. Therefore, he had to know at least how to deal with a rather simple-minded brawler. One can't say, in fact, that it was a fight. All it took for the investigator was to grab the ruffian when an opening presented itself and then slam his head onto the bar. It wasn't the first time this had happened to him, and he was certain that it won't be the last.

"Alright, that would be over. Barkeep, is that coffee ready? I... What on the bloody earth are you doing?" He groaned after he saw the elf digging through the pockets of one of the unconscious thieves.

"Looking for money."

"Uh-huh... You know that is called looting, right? And it's illegal?"

"Oh, come on, give me a break. This guy tried to rob me and ruined my meal! I will only take enough to pay for a replacement."

"No, you will not. Or I will have to arrest you, bard," the detective reached somewhere under his poncho and pulled out a small metal badge of the local police force.

"Huh? What's that?" Glavas squinted at the tiny letters engraved into it. "Clive Featherfear, royal investigator?"

"Indeed. And I will require some identification from you."

"Fuck, and I thought you were just a cool dude. Glavas, my pleasure! Hunter for hire. If your rodents have suddenly started flying, I'll rid you of them for thirty percent off." The elf stood up and handed Clive a small and terribly scrunched-up business card. "I wish I had the pleasure, but I really don't like enforcing some nonsensical laws. You saw that the people tried to rob me first, so... how about you just turn a blind eye, get your coffee, and I'll just search his pockets in a jiffy, huh?" Glavas leaned closed and winked at the detective.

"Okay, and how about you shut up, obey the law, and maybe don't try dancing with your plate next time, huh?" Clive winked back and grabbed the refilled coffee mug, which the barkeep placed onto the bar in the meantime. He threw a few coins onto the table and then walked out of the pub without another word.

"What an ass," Glavas mumbled to himself and gave the food on the ground one last sad look before heading off to his room.

Fortunately for him, the city had much more to offer. He loved the taste of any good food and wanted to savor it as much as possible, but he also couldn't resist the temptation to try any tasty herb, potion, or substance, should it not have any drastic or permanent aftereffects. One such thing was, after all, what brought him all the way here. Old Burrow was not known for many things. It was a small settlement in between two large cities, so visitors often had little reason to stay other than just passing a night here before going back on the road. But Glavas came here for a purpose. He heard stories of a specialty only local farmers could produce, and which they managed to cultivate only recently. Due to it being a delicacy, the king immediately bought almost everything they had in stock. Almost. A few days before the king's men came, a criminal organization from the local area managed to steal several of such delicacies for themselves.

Glavas rarely supported criminals, but his curiosity was stronger than any man's moral code. He simply had to know what was so delicious about these vegetables that even the king himself would buy the whole stock just to satisfy his personal needs. During the night, he silently opened the window of his room and checked the streets. Not a single living soul. Everything was perfect. Before heading out, he quickly checked the address he obtained a few days earlier in Woodstove, only a few kilometers north of Old Burrow. The time would be right. Now all he had to do was find the place. He slowly climbed out of the window and down the side of the building onto the streets. For him, it was even easier than climbing trees. At least the building had predictable edges he could hold onto, unlike branches that could give out at any moment.

He wandered through the streets for a while. The place wasn't big, but that was perhaps the thing that only made it creepier. Cities were always somewhat lively even during the later hours. But here? Everyone was sound asleep. Only a guard here and there would pass through the streets, but they wouldn't be hard to avoid. After all, Glavas was used to hiding from monsters and beasts. What was one simple tired man with a torch?

Eventually, he found the place his note described. A tiny alley right next to the church. It was narrow and lead further to the backstreets behind the several central buildings. Just in case the description the hunter got wouldn't be sufficient, two shady figures were standing there, eying the elf from underneath their hoods.

"So, gentlemen, how shall we do this?" Glavas approached them as if they were his old friends.

"You got the gold?" one of the men asked.

"Yup, right here, all of it." The hunter pulled a stuffed purse out of his pocket. The coins in it would be enough to spend two months at the inn, eating decent food for every lunch.

"I need to count it," one of the men said, his voice running along the alley like a sharp dagger.

"Sure, go ahead," Glavas replied and handed the bag over.

"Thanks, twat!" The man grinned, then punched Glavas right in his stomach before he and his companion took off into the alleys.

"Ow! What the fuck is wrong with the people here...? Just let me eat! Motherfuckers..." Glavas muttered to himself before running after the two. However, shortly after he lost them behind a corner, he heard two loud metal thuds followed by another person's voice. This felt odd to him. Why would they start chatting just around the corner? Weren't they expecting he'd chase them?

The hunter switched from a sprint to a careful sneak. He approached the corner and peeked over it to figure out what exactly was going on.

"Alright, guys, good job. Now tie them up and let's bring them in for questioning." Glavas heard a familiar voice, followed by a well-known sight. Two guards were picking up the beat-up criminals while being ordered around by none other than a detective dressed in a black poncho.

"Bloody hell, of course, it's Clive fucking Featherfear." He rolled his eyes. In his mind, he felt such intense anger. Now his money would be confiscated, and he wouldn't get the delicacy either. Or so he thought until he saw the contraband sitting comfortably on a trash can next to a wall. There, in a small transparent sack, were two roots, loosely resembling ginger, except these were dark brown and had glowing purple veins running around the surface. "Bingo! Journeyroot!" Glavas exclaimed.

The question now was how to obtain them without the guards noticing. Fortunately, he wouldn't need all of them. Just a tiny bit would be enough to satisfy his curiosity. Glavas looked at a strand of black hair that fell into his face and then down at his stomach. "Ah, what wouldn't I do for you," he sighed and placed one of his hands on the wall. A shadow crawled out of it. A black copy of his hand started to stretch along the surface of the building and towards the roots. In the light of day, this would've been even more suspicious than if he'd simply walk there himself. But due to the darkness of the night, his shadow magic was perfectly hidden. While the guards were arguing and interrogating the resisting criminals, this tiny dark hand reached into the bag. A faint snapping would be heard, should the scene be any less noisy, as the fingers delicately snapped off a tiny piece of the Journeyroot. Then, carefully hiding it in its closed palm, the hand carried it back to its owner, before disappearing into thin air.

Glavas let out a sigh and briefly leaned against the wall. He hated this feeling. Suddenly, he felt like nothing mattered in life. Even life itself. His appetite was gone, and he just wanted to throw the damn root away and go back to sleep, perhaps never even waking up again. He ground his teeth and kept repeating: "It's temporary. It's temporary. Just hold on, it's temporary." And truly, as he kept silently muttering this mantra, the feeling vanished, almost as quickly as his magic, and he returned to his normal self, eager to figure out what was so special about this little beautiful vegetable.

As soon as he returned back to his room and closed the window, he pulled a small candle and a pocketknife out of his bag. With a quick fire incantation, "Neho", he lit the candle, so that he may prepare the root as necessary. It wasn't a difficult process, but he still wished to have some light for it, making sure he wouldn't mess it up. First, he peeled off the rough outer layer, until the lilac-colored inside revealed itself. Then, he began running his knife alongside the surface of the root, over and over, scraping tiny bits off until they created a faint foam. That was it. The desired product. Without further ado, he grabbed his notebook, along with a tiny remnant of a pencil. Within seconds, the small book was opened on its latest page, where a very fancy title "Journeyroot" was already waiting. Impatient, Glavas licked the scraped foam off of his knife and waited. It was truly a magnificent experience. The taste was so sweet, yet also strangely sour and spicy as if somebody figured out how to perfectly combine these specific tastes to create a truly delicious ingredient. Glavas immediately started thinking about how this would go nicely with some baked potatoes or perhaps a steamed fish, but sadly, none of those were available. Nevertheless, he picked up the pencil and wrote a single word "It" onto the empty page. That was the last thing he remembered.

The singing of woodland birds woke him up the next morning. He lifted his head and took a while to gather his thoughts. "Where the fuck am I?" he asked himself. From what he could gather, he was in the woods, sitting, leaning against a hollowed-out stump. He tried to remember what had happened, but all of a sudden, his entire stomach felt as if it had exploded. He instantly threw his head back into the stump and painted its inside. Only now did his memory start to come back. Thought not about last night. Instead, he remembered how the person back at Woodstove warned him never to eat this past midnight, as it appears to gain toxic properties based on the movement of the moon.

"Oh, I'm a dumbass," he mumbled after his stomach seemed to have expressed its own opinion to the fullest.

"Are you okay, sir?" a voice came from beside him. It didn't sound malicious though. Glavas could instantly hear that it most likely belonged to a young girl. Probably one of the children from the village who came out here to play.

"Yeah, I'm just a... What the absolute fuck?!" He lifted his head, wanting to greet the young girl, only to find himself staring into the eyes of... something. The being that stood before him indeed looked like a human, but only distantly. The girl was dressed in tattered dark clothes, some of which seemed to have been maybe a tad too big for her. What was much creepier, however, was her body. The skin was black as ebony, almost as if she came out of the darkness itself. Her head was shaven clean, with only the tiniest of hair growing out of it. The worst, however, were her eyes. They were completely white. Like two marble orbs inserted into her skull. Not a single color, or even a sign of a vein.

"Holy shit, am I dead?" Glavas asked, not looking the best himself. His long dark hair was covering a large portion of his face, and purple stains decorated his tunic in a very unfashionable pattern.

"I don't think so. I am alive. So, you must be alive too," she replied and walked a bit closer. "I'm Alma," she said and extended her hand towards Glavas.

"Ah... yeah, nice to meet you," he replied and shook the tiny arm. "Umm... are you like... blind?"

"Nope."

"Ah, yeah, great, okay..." Glavas didn't know what to think. He had seen all sorts of eyes in his life, both belonging to men and beasts. But these were different. They didn't seem to be eyes at all, with their almost stone-like texture. Yet the girl was looking at him. From her expressions, he could tell that she could see him with perfectly normal eyesight.

"What were you doing here?"

"I... Well... Vomiting," the hunter decided for a bit of honesty.

"Vomiting? Are you sick?"

"No, it was... I ate something bad; you know?"

"Oh! I know what that's like. I ate some funny mushrooms once and felt awful. But Surdi made me some tea from tree bark, and I got better."

"Uh... Surdi?"

"Yeah, that's my friend. Come, I'll introduce you!" The girl grabbed Glavas' arm and started pulling.

"No, listen, I really don't have time for this, I... WHAT THE FUCK?!" He nearly reached for his weapon as the girl walked away deeper into the woods, dragging him along like a rag doll. The fact that he weighed about three times as much as she didn't seem to bother her at all.

"No! Ow! Let go! Let me go! What the actual bloody fuck is this?!" The hunter shouted as she pulled him along into the woods, his feet kicking helplessly as he was dragged along the ground.

He wasn't sure how long it took. The girl kept dragging him further and further, not caring at all what was happening to him. Each root or rock he passed, Glavas slid painfully over. For a moment, he started to think about his options. The weight from his back was gone. The hurdy-gurdy and its magical music were probably back at the inn. He then reached to his waist with the other arm, which the girl, fortunately, left free. His weapon was still there. A small, hollow, metal stick with a few buttons and triggers here and there. A portable mana cannon. Glavas quickly popped open the middle section and checked his ammunition. A well-cut fire crystal was sitting in the chamber, ready to be used. The old hunter sighed. Was it truly just a girl, or a new sort of monster he had never seen before? She was hurting him, but did she know? A single blast of fire from such a short distance would be enough to heavily injure a common person. If he was wrong, then an innocent child would suffer.

"Uhg, fuck, I'm such an idiot," Glavas sighed and problematically returned the weapon to its holster. He could withstand the pain. There was no need to risk injuring her.

It took a few minutes, but eventually, the child stopped. The area around them was surrounded by bushes and trees so dense that one could barely see through them. It was a perfect hiding spot.

"Surdi! I found a weird person near the lake. I think he's injured," the girl called out. Glavas saw this as an opportunity. He mustered all the strength he had and then pulled his arm out of the girl's grasp with as much force as he could. Or that's what he wanted to do at least. Yet despite his enormous strength, which could wrestle with the beasts of all kinds, this tiny and fragile child seemed to be able to perfectly contain him. In fact, it seemed as if Glavas wasn't even struggling at all. Despite the efforts, the girl didn't move even slightly. Glavas felt bad, but he had no other choice. He kicked the girl's leg, hoping to make her fall, and then use the moment to escape her clutches.

"Ow! What the fuck are you made of?!" the hunter shouted as his leg stopped against the child's tiny ankle, which seemed just as hard as a tree trunk, as Glavas judged by the unsuccessful kick.

"Stop it! I need to find Surdi," the girl scolded him and then looked up into the treetops. "Surdi! Come on out, he's harmless."

Something began to move among the leaves. It was too fast and sneaky to focus on, but Glavas knew something was there. One thing was for certain, he wasn't going to let himself be ambushed by god knows what. So, he reached for the weapon hanging on his waist, but before he could grab it, a small, green, scaly foot pushed his arm to the ground.

"OW! Fuck, let go of me!" the hunter groaned as he felt the creature's weight stepping on his hand. It sure as hell wasn't anything light. He tried to escape, but the creature's claws only dug deeper into the ground.

"Oh, there you are Surdi!" the girl exclaimed happily and turned around to face her friend. Tired and completely surrendered to his fate, Glavas finally took a good look at them too. To his surprise, however, it was no monster standing beside him, but a dragon. Or more specifically, a draconian, their humanoid subspecies. This was a relief, at least partially. Dragons were more than intelligent enough to communicate. He could reason with this guy. Or so he at least hoped. From experience, Glavas knew that sometimes, it was easier to see eye to eye with an animal, rather than a more intelligent species. However, something was still bothering the young elf. If it was a full-grown dragon that stepped on his hand, it would crush the bones in it with little effort. But this one was small. A child. Barely taller than the girl. His clothing looked even more miserable than Alma’s. He wore pants full of holes and tears, and his tunic was torn off around the shoulder, exposing half of his chest and a thin, skinny membrane connected between his side and upper arm.

"An aquatic draconian?" Glavas thought. "We're miles away from larger bodies of water. And he's here alone? Dragons rarely travel on their own, and children do not leave their families until adulthood. What happened to these two?" He thought to himself.

In the meantime, the dragon looked at him with eyes that could kill. The tiny slit pupils of his turquoise eyes indicated that he wasn't too happy to see the hunter. Surdi took a good look at him before turning his attention to the girl.

"You... don't like him?"

The dragon didn't respond. At least not verbally. Instead, he waved his arms around in a series of carefully gestured symbols.

"Sign language. Fuck!" Glavas muttered to himself and groaned with great disappointment. Out of all the means of communication, they had to use the one he did not understand.

"Weapon? What weapon?" the girl asked the dragon.

[Look at his left arm. He was reaching for a weapon. He wanted to kill you,] the dragon signed.

"That metal thing? That's a weapon?" she asked, to which the dragon nodded.

"Hey, I didn't want to use it at you two though, I promise! Just didn't know your friend is a dragon, so I wanted to be careful. If I wanted to shoot you, I would've done so while you were dragging me here, no? Why wait?"

[So you could kill us both,] the dragon replied.

"I... look, I don't understand that, so I have no idea if you said something right now, or cast a spell on me, but I don't want to hurt you, I swear. Besides, if I really wanted to, do you really think Mr. Lightfoot here could stop me?"

[He's bluffing.]

"Surdi thinks you're lying," the girl replied.

"Ugh... Fine, have it your way," Glavas sighed. Moments later, a long metal pole shot out of his arm, splashing his blood all over the place. The children panicked. The girl let go of his right hand, while the dragon quickly grabbed her and dragged her away, deeper into the forest.

Glavas had no reason to chase after them. He did wonder what they were doing here, but with his sick stomach and now also a rather intense pain in his arm, he simply desired nothing else but to lie down for a moment.

"God, how much I don't like children..." he sighed and picked himself and the metal staff off the ground. He didn't want to scare them like this but saw no other choice. The weapons sealed within the tattoos on his arm were always a shock for everyone who saw them. For those who understood the magic behind them, they were an example of a terrifyingly strong will, as the process of retrieving and storing weapons in such a manner was rather painful. But even those who didn't know about it were usually afraid when they saw a weapon emerge out of the hunter's body, accompanied by a spray of blood. Fortunately, the exit wounds would seal almost instantly, so outside of the initial splash, no additional blood would stain Glavas' tunic. He was thankful for that. Dirt and mud on his clothes seemed to be at least somewhat socially acceptable, but too much blood and people would start asking questions.

The hunter saw no reason to prolong his stay in the forest. He had spent far too long there already, in his own opinion. With a walk of shame after a rough night, he wobbled his way back to Old Burrow's inn.

"Rough night?" the barkeep asked the moment the elf sat down.

"Kiss my ass," Glavas replied and lay his head down on the bar table.

"Hungover?"

"No, sick stomach. I didn't drink alcohol."

"Oh, well, may I offer you our Hair of a Cat?"

"Your what?" The elf lifted his head off the counter and gave the barkeep a concerned look.

"Hair of a Cat. It's a mixed drink, mostly based on herbal tea, that helps with an upset stomach. You know, like the hair of a dog that helps with a hangover? So, Hair of a Cat."

"I don't have money for it," Glavas sighed when he remembered that last night's fiasco cost him the rest of his savings.

"Get him the drink, barkeep," an unknown man spoke from beside Glavas and as he sat down on the barstool, he slid a few coins over to the bartender. Glavas turned around and took a good look at this good Samaritan. It was a man with wide cargo pants, heavy leather boots, and a white tank top, revealing his muscular arms.

"And you are?" the elf mumbled at the stranger.

"Peldo. Pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m gonna need more than just your name. Who are you and what do you want from me?”

“I'm something like a local lumberjack. I take care of supplying the locals with firewood and such. It might sound simple, but it's not an easy task. I need to know which trees I can cut down so as not to disrupt the ecosystem. And that takes some skill."

"Oh god, please don't tell me I threw up in like an endangered tree trunk or something."

"You threw up in a tree trunk?"

"Ah, never mind,"

"Here's the Cat," the bartender exclaimed as he put down a tall ceramic mug. "Drink it all in one go and then hold your breath for 15 seconds."

"Are you pulling my leg?" the elf asked, but the bartender merely raised his eyebrow. Since Glavas didn't wish to argue with the man, he did as he asked. The drink wasn't bad, but according to the hunter's own impressions, it tasted like an herbal overdose.

"So, feeling better?" the lumberjack asked after the 15 seconds.

"Yeah... Damn, that really did help. Thanks. I will repay you the debt, don't worry."

"Nah, that won't be needed. Listen, I was here yesterday and heard you are a hunter for hire, right?"

"Yup! Glavas, my pleasure! If your moles suddenly started to eat wood from your house, I will chase them away with 80% off the cost!"

"I see. Then I might have work for you, mister hunter. And I'm willing to pay a lot for it."

"Oh? Something dangerous you need me to hunt?"

"Sort of. It is in fact a combined task. Gathering AND hunting. Well paid, of course."

"Come on then, spit it out. What do you need me to do?"

"Dreambiters have sprouted up near the hills just north of here, sort of around the lake area. As you most definitely know, these plants are quite dangerous, and I would hate to see if something happened to anyone who accidentally wanders around the place. I could, of course, just burn them out myself, but... well, you see, I'd rather have you collect them. Herbalists pay a hefty price for that, and to be honest, I could use the extra coin. Can't really make much of a living in a village like this, you know?"

"I understand. Well, that's quite an annoying task, but I accept. And what about the hunt?"

"Yes, that is another problem. There is a Lunastag wandering the area. As you know, these things are quite elusive, but can really complicate my work. I went out to chop some wood a few days back, then out of nowhere, darkness. Took me a good hour before the spell wore off and I nearly wandered off the cliff. In the meantime, the bastard went through the open door and into my house. Ate my breakfast."

"I see. Well, that won't be a problem. I can relocate it elsewhere. But just in case, don't let any children wander the woods until I'm done, okay? Lunastags are peaceful, but their magic can cause people to fall or get stuck, which can be dangerous. But the plants are especially deadly. They get one of the children and you can kiss them goodbye."

"Children? There are no children in Old Burrow. As you can probably guess, this isn't really a family-friendly location."

"Huh? Then what about the bald girl and the green dragon? I saw them when I woke up in the forest. They weren't just a figment of my imagination, that's for sure. Still got bruises from when the girl grabbed my arm."

The lumberjack's eyes widened. "You've met Alma and Surdi?"

"Yeah, that's them. What the hell is their deal?"

"Troublemakers. They moved into the woods nearby, too afraid to go into the village. Apparently, someone has been pursuing them. Don't know many details. But they definitely shouldn't wander around the area."

"Fine, I'll look for them first, but I will require some extra payment for that. I am no babysitter."

"No need. I'll gather up some boys and we'll find them. You just focus on the plants and the Lunastag. We'll handle the rest."

Glavas handed the mug back to the barkeeper, then stood up. "Fine, I'll go prepare then. Will depart immediately after, so you go get the little ones, okay?"

"Alright. Looking forward to hearing from you, mister hunter."

Glavas tipped his hat to the lumberjack and headed upstairs to his room. It's been a while since he last encountered a Lunastag. Majestic creatures, truly. A six-legged deer with massive pair of antlers between which floats a small dark blue orb - a culmination of their magical powers. They aren't dangerous on their own, but they also do not understand their own power. Often time, the moment they spot danger, they fire off their magic at any perceived attacker. The dark magic clouds one's senses, making them feel like they are walking through endless darkness. The effect itself doesn't harm the victim. It only gives the Lunastag a chance to escape. The main issue, however, is the duration of it. The ones affected by the magic cannot hear, see, or sense anything from their surroundings. Any incoming predator, therefore, has a free meal right then and there. And should the person panic and start to run around, there is a solid chance that they may fall somewhere, get injured, or worse. So Glavas understood. Although the creature was peaceful by nature and exceptionally beautiful, it wasn't something you'd want to run into.

He thoroughly checked all his equipment. His bag held all sorts of perfectly round crystal cylinders of diverse colors - ammunition for his weapon. The tattoos on his arm were covered in dried blood, so he washed it off first, to avoid an infection possibly getting in. He doubted that he would need to conjure another weapon against something so peaceful as Lunastag but staying prepared is what kept him alive so far, so he wasn't going to neglect it this time. As the last step, he grabbed his hurdy-gurdy and played all the basic tones. A little adjustment was needed to get the sound right, but nothing else seemed to be wrong with the instrument. He let out a sigh of relief. Playing a tone that would be even slightly off during a magical composition could have terrifying results.

"Has the lumberjack left already?" Glavas asked the barkeep once he made his way back downstairs.

"Yeah, shortly after you went upstairs," the man replied and eyed Glavas from head to toe. "Damn, you look all geared up. Weirdest looking hunter I've ever seen, but hey, I trust you know what you're doing."

"Don't worry, I've been at this for over 60 years. A Lunastag won't be a challenge." He gave the bartender a slight tip of his hat before leaving the inn. A faint smile appeared on his face. He's been so sick of dealing with people. Arrogant detective, annoying smugglers, and mysterious children. All of that was so exhausting. Nature was simple. And most importantly, quiet.

The forest started not too far away from the village. At first, it appeared light, with only a few trees here and there, but as Glavas traveled deeper, the vegetation only seemed to grow denser and denser. He didn't mind though. The fresh air and smell of the forest were the closest feeling to home he knew. Not even the town where he grew up felt so comforting to him.

He walked for solid 20 minutes. There was no rush in his step. After all, that was the key. Lunastags had a wonderful hearing and would quickly attack should they consider Glavas a threat. Not to mention that any steps left behind by their hooves would be hard to notice without thorough investigation. So, the hunter had to search for it slowly and carefully. Each step was well measured, and every second was used to properly scout his surroundings.

Like this, he kept on going until his eyes finally spotted something crucial near a large boulder, at the foot of a hill. Dark red flowers in the shape of a five-point star and with dark spiked leaves - a Dreambiter. There was no doubt about that. So far, there were only a few of them. That was a relief. Should it be a larger amount, they would be practically impossible to safely gather. Fortunately for Glavas, these few would prove to be little to no challenge to someone knowledgeable.

"Hello again," he heard someone call out beside him, nearly giving him a heart attack. He quickly turned around and spotted the same bald girl from before.

"FUCK! How... Where did you come from? I've been constantly checking my surroundings!" Glavas replied, irritated by the fact that the peace and quiet of his hunt have been interrupted.

"I was hiding behind the tree there," she pointed to a trunk Glavas passed by not too long ago. "I was here looking for mushrooms, but then you were coming, so I hid."

"But... there are no footsteps around here. And... I didn't feel or hear anyone breathing. And if you were so close, then I'd definitely notice something."

"Yeah, I don't breathe. Nor do I make footprints, in fact. Or fingerprints. Or any prints in general," the girl replied and smiled at Glavas as if it was something completely normal.

"Are you an assassin?"

"No."

"Then where did you learn to walk around without a trace. I can track even some assassins, although that tends to be difficult. Only the real masters can truly hide their tracks. Who taught you that?"

"Nobody. I just do that."

"That's not possible," he reached for his weapon and aimed it at the girl. "Your grip is stronger than that of a dwarven miner, your legs are stable as the base of a pyramid. Yet your footsteps are untraceable, and your breathing can't be heard. What are you? Because you sure as hell aren't a human."

The girl started down the barrel of the hunter's gun. All of a sudden, her smile disappeared, quickly replaced by tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Oh... hey, it's okay, I didn't want to scare you like that," he said and immediately put the gun away. "I am just... well, scared of you, to be honest. You are unlike anyone or anything I've ever seen. And I've seen many things."

"It's not my fault... He took it..." The girl seemed to avoid any further eye contact with the hunter.

"Who took what from you?"

"My soul... The demon took my soul."

Chills ran down Glavas's spine. Demons... Truly, one of the most terrifying creatures of Ezma. They appeared rarely, but if not stopped before they could consume too much blood and flesh, they could grow into threats that entire armies might be unable to stop. What was, however, even more disturbing, was the other part of the sentence. Once a soul was gone, the victim's body would exist in a catatonic state, completely devoid of consciousness. Yet she seemed alive and well. At least partially. This gave Glavas an idea. Something he had to check.

First, he looked briefly at her chest and waited. There was nothing. No sign of her breathing. Her ribcage simply didn't expand in any way.

"Can I please see your hand? I promise I won't hurt you. I just need to check something," he asked in the softest voice he could and extended out his own palm. The girl seemed hesitant but eventually did as Glavas asked of her.

He grabbed her gently by the wrist and checked her pulse. There was nothing. Not a single sign that her blood was flowing. And what more, she seemed to be unnaturally cold to touch. Just like a corpse.

"Those eyes of yours, can they really see?" he asked.

"Yeah. I don't feel them different."

"Do you know what they look like?"

"Like marbles. Surdi always says they are pretty."

"I see. And what about your hair? Does it fall out?"

"No, I just don't like brushing it. It's better this way."

Glavas didn't know what to think of this. A girl that showed no biological signs of life, yet she seemed very much alive. This was truly the first time he has ever seen something like this.

"You shouldn't be here. It’s dangerous. Go to the village. There are people who can take care of you there."

"No!" the girl refused resolutely.

"What? Why not?"

"I don't like them. They seem evil."

"Evil? In what sense?"

"Just evil! Something about them feels fake."

"Alright, well... shit," Glavas dug his face into his palms. She complicated things greatly for him, but there was no other way. With her around, he wouldn't be able to use his magic as he intended to. But perhaps if he kept her close, he could at the very least protect her.

"Fine, what if you came with me for now? I have some work I need to do first, and it could be dangerous for you, but I can keep you safe if you do as I say. Does that sound good?"

"Yes sir!" the girl replied and saluted.

"Huh... you dislike the villagers, but are fine with following an armed elven hunter?"

"Yeah. I can tell you are a good person. I can feel it."

He was unsure whether or not she was seriously trusting him just based on a feeling, but he had no time to figure out the truth.

"Alright, here's what we're going to do. See those flowers over there?" He pointed towards the Dreambiters.

"Yeah? They are weird. I don't like them."

"That's good. Nobody does. And they are dangerous. They release toxic spores that can knock out anything that comes too close. Then they keep doing that over and over until their victim dies or thirst and hunger. And once the corpse starts decomposing, they eat the nutrients and grow all over it, multiplying." For a brief moment, he realized that he just described a rather gruesome way of dying to a mere child. Fortunately, Alma didn't seem too bothered by it.

"Bleh! Nasty flowers! Are you gonna destroy them?"

"I'd love to, but that's not what I'm here for. Some herbalists can make medicine out of them. So, I was asked to collect them."

"Collect? Isn't that dangerous?"

Glavas smiled. "Don't worry. I'm a professional," he pulled a long piece of fabric out of his bag and tied it around his face, over his mouth and nose. "Just follow me, but don't go past that tree over there, okay? And if something happens to me, please, go get someone from the village, okay?"

"That won't be necessary. You're a professional, no?"

The hunter grinned. As much as he hated to admit it, there was something about the girl he liked. She was different than most children. "Heh, that's right. No help will be needed."

Alma seemed to be an obedient child. At least as far as Glavas could tell. She stayed exactly where he told her to. In fact, her feet didn't move from the spot. She looked around and kept her curious eyes on the hunter, but not once did she disobey him. After all, he made the danger of the plants quite clear.

Glavas slowly approached the small flowers. They looked so innocent at first, but he knew far too well what they were capable of.

"Come on... good flower... nice flower... you will let me slice you off, right?" he mumbled to himself. It helped him calm down a bit more and steady his hands. The knife approached the flowers. There was a total of three of them. They all had to be cut in one go, or the others would go into a panic mode and would flood the area with spores, preventing future harvest. The hunter cautiously approached and when he saw one of the plants twitching, ready to strike, he swung his knife across the three shrubs, perfectly severing them from the earth. Before they could hit the ground, his other hand grabbed them as he dodged out of the way of a dark orange cloud. He held them for a while along the direction of the wind. And when it seemed that they can't attack anymore, he stuffed them in his bag.

"I really hope they'll pay nicely for this," he groaned and returned to Alma.

"That was so cool! You got rid of them in one go!" the girl exclaimed.

"Yeah. You need to do that, or they would protect themselves."

"Awesome! What are we gonna do now?"

"Well, now comes the hard part. Can you perhaps tell your friend in that bush over there to stop hiding?" Glavas pointed towards a seemingly random shrubbery not too far away from them.

"You noticed him?" Alma asked as her dragon friend slowly emerged from the foliage.

"Yeah. It wasn't too hard. Unlike you and your... condition, he seems to be quite obvious if you focus on your surroundings. Those scales are of a completely different shade of green than the rest of the forest. They simply look out of place."

The dragon kept his distance and looked at Alma.

[Can we trust him?] he signed.

[Yeah, he's a good person. I don't feel the aggression from him as I do from the others,] the girl replied.

"Damn, I really need to learn this," Glavas scratched his head as the communication of the children caused him great confusion.

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm just telling Surdi that he can trust you. So now we can all go together!"

"Together? Well... that's not the best idea."

"Why not?"

"Well... my magic is not very good for other people. When I hunt something, I can hurt those around me too."

"We'll be fine."

"But... What if you just tried staying in the village? Somewhere far away?"

"No! Those people are scary!"

"Ugh! Okay, can your dragon friend say something about the matter?"

Alma turned around and roughly translated the message for Surdi.

[Those people don't like us. Look at Alma. She stands out. So do I. We would be chased out of there sooner or later. Besides... we kind of took a few things from them. Things that were necessary for survival. Food, clothes, and so on.] Alma interpreted what Surdi told her for Glavas.

"I see. Fuck. You just have to complicate things, don’t you? Okay, you can come with me to the hunt. But you have to do exactly as I say."

"Yay! We're going hunting!" the girl shouted. "So, what are we killing?"

"We are not killing anything."

"Awww. Why not?"

"I'm not that kind of hunter. I get rid of things, not hunt them for food. And this area has a problem with a Lunastag."

"Lunastag?"

"Yes. That's this six-legged deer-like creature. It is harmless, but it can cause accidents. So, I plan on knocking it out and then dragging it over to the other side of the mountain. There, hopefully, it will stay and won't come back."

"Okay, so maybe we can help you put down traps? We can be really good at that. Surdi always hunts rabbits and similar creatures for us. He is good with traps."

"That won't be necessary. I just need to..."

Suddenly, the deaf dragon put a finger to his mouth and waved his hand to signal for everyone to crouch down.

"What is it? What can he see?" Glavas asked before the boy pointed to a meadow beneath the hill, only a few hundred meters away from them. There, among the bushes and sunlight, they could all see it as clear as day. A stag with massive antlers, six legs, and a black orb floating above its head.

"A Lunastag? What a stroke of luck. They tend to be harder to find. Huh..." Glavas thought it through for a while.

"Okay, come with me, but very slowly and carefully. We must not make a sound."

Alma signed to Surdi, and he agreed with a gesture of zipping up his mouth. Out of the two of them, it wasn't him that Glavas would be worried about.

They snuck through the woods all the way to the meadow. In the meantime, the hunter tried his best to keep a close eye on the creature. Something about it seemed odd. It was eating something from the ground, yet these creatures would only rarely eat berries and usually just consumed moonlight energy. Seeing it munching on something on the ground during the middle of the day and on a meadow full of daylight was truly unusual but it was a chance like no other, and he surely wasn't going to waste it.

"Stop. We'll stay here," the hunter told the children and raised his hand.

"What now? Are you gonna shoot it?" Alma asked.

"No. I'm gonna use my magic. However, it does not discriminate between targets, so you will be hit as well. Which is why I need you two to stay here. You'll only fall asleep for a short while. I will go tie up the stag and then wake you up afterward."

The hunter showed the two kids where to sit, so they wouldn't fall and hurt themselves. Then, it was showtime. The instrument on Glavas' back started to move and two translucent dark hands emerged from his shoulders, reaching for the crank and the keys of the hurdy-gurdy. As Surdi saw that the blood in his veins froze. All it took was seeing those arms and he was back at the manor. There were hundreds of them, grabbing him from all sides and pulling him deeper into an endless pit. There was no way he'd go through that again. No, not even again.

A strange hissing sound could be heard as the dragon opened his mouth. Dark green smoke started to cumulate inside it.

"Surdi no!" Alma shouted, scaring both Glavas and the animal. In the next second, the smoke exploded. A large fireball shot out from the dragon's throat and hit Glavas right to his left side. The blast was so powerful it lifted him off from the ground and carried him several meters onto the meadow.

"Argh! Fuck!" he swore as he quickly pushed through the pain and picked himself up from the ground. His hand reached into the holster for his weapon. A loud gunshot could be heard for miles, as a large blast of fire shot out of the weapon. Due to Glavas' poor stance, the recoil kicked him back another few meters. Just enough for him to avoid a large black sphere approaching him. He wasn't going to fall victim to a Lunastag and a bunch of children. That would've been an embarrassment for someone with his experience. Once he at least somewhat recovered, he quickly looked at where the stag previously stood. It was gone. Galloping away and into hiding.

"Fuck! You stupid little..." he wanted to turn to the children, but if it wasn't for his reflexes, he would've lost his life. An arrow flew just past his head, scratching him. "What the fuck?" he looked around, ready to face a bandit or an assassin, but to his surprise, nobody could be seen nearby. He waited for a few seconds, quickly glancing between the trees while staying on full alert. But there was nothing. Nothing he could see at the very least. Not even the children, who seemed to have run off somewhere in the meantime. When ten minutes passed, Glavas concluded that it was time to counterattack, instead of simply waiting if something will come to kill him. He briefly looked at the arrow stuck in the ground. Based on the current wind conditions, speed, and angle of the projectile, he was able to roughly guess where the attack came from - branches of the trees just near the place where the children were supposed to wait. If somebody was there and was attacking him, then there would be no way they could sneak away without Glavas noticing them. At least, not unless they were soulless like Alma. With an almost terrifying speed, the hunter rushed to the tree and climbed it faster than a cat. He had to know if the assassin was still there.

To his surprise, the foe was no longer around. In fact, it seemed as if they hadn’t been there for a while now. Instead, there was a lone crossbow sitting on the tree, covered in runes that Glavas did not understand. With such a strange find offering him few clues, he decided to inspect the arrow instead. It seemed relatively normal, as far as arrows went, but the tip was not made from any ordinary metal. Instead, it seemed to have a slightly pinkish color, with a barely visible patchwork-like texture. Glavas did not say or think anything. It was too early for that. Instead, he put the arrow into his bag and headed back into the village. There was something he had to do first.

The lumberjack and his friends seemed to have been in the middle of a very intense game of cards when a sack of flowers landed on their table. Irritated by the sudden interruption of their game, in which they had not a small amount of money at stake, they all lifted their head almost simultaneously to see who dared to disturb them. When they saw the hunter, the anger was quickly replaced with confusion.

"Ah, you got the plants. Great!" Peldo called out triumphantly as he stuffed the pouch into the pocket of his pants and quickly started putting down coins for the hunter's service. "And the Lunastag?"

"I nearly got killed!" the hunter growled.

"By a... stag?"

"No! By the trap you've set up. You wanted to get rid of it yourself, didn't you? But you forgot to turn it off!"

"Oh... Oh, dear. I am SO sorry. I hope you haven't gotten hurt."

"No, fortunately not. But warn me next time. I need to get back to my room and replenish some supplies that got wasted. Then I'll go and try it again. But you better pay me extra for this crap."

"No worries, mister hunter. I apologize, sincerely. Please, go have a moment of rest and in the meantime, my friends and I will go and check if any other traps have perhaps remained in the area."

"Great. And what about the children?"

"Oh, have you found them? We searched a large part of the woods but couldn't find anyone."

"Yeah, I found them alright. Better do something about those traps before they get hurt, alright?"

"You've got my word, Mr. Glavas, you will not run into any problems again."

"Good. Now excuse me, I need a break." He turned around and left the group of men to finish their game of cards. They all wrapped it up surprisingly quickly.

Glavas quickly walked up the stairs, taking them by two. He had no interest in his own room. Instead, he was looking for a different one. The hunter made sure nobody else was in the corridor and then knocked on the door in the very back of the tavern.

"Huh? It's you? Came to turn yourself in after that alley robbery?" Glavas was greeted by a familiar and much-detested face of Clive Featherfear.

"No. This is much more important. If we won't make a move somebody is going to die. And I can’t do this alone."

"Oh? You know something about the local murder?"

"Maybe. I am not sure if they are connected. But I know for certain that there are two children who are in serious danger right now."

The lumberjack's crew gathered in a small herbalist hut just outside of the village. They had a friend there whose service was needed.

"Is it gonna work?" Peldo asked, growing impatient with every passing second.

"Who do you take me for? Of course it will! This is a method used by old assassins all the time," the herbalist replied and kept mixing all sorts of colorful powders, precisely measured by a series of abnormally long spoons.

"Old assassins stopped using these. They must've had a reason."

"They were idiots."

Peldo walked closer and just as the herbalist was about to pour the mixture into a small, round, metal container, the lumberjack grabbed his hand.

"If this doesn't work and I lose my men, you will meet the same fate as our friend on the outskirts. Do you understand?"

"May my actions speak then. Let me finish it," the man responded, not feeling any fear from Peldo's threat. He proceeded to fill four containers with the mixed substance and sealed them off with a cap with a fuse. "Just light it up and throw. The delay is about three seconds. Make sure not to miss."

"We're professionals, that won't be a problem," the lumberjack assured his associate and distributed the small bombs among his subordinates.

In the meantime, Alma was sitting with Surdi at their makeshift campsite, gesturing wildly while prancing all over the place.

"You can't be serious! He was our friend! You do this all the time! Whenever we meet someone who is at the very least kind to us and doesn't see us as freaks, you have to ruin it!"

[His magic was the same as the demon's.]

"So what?! Do you have any idea how many people use dark magic?! Heck, if you were born black instead of green, you would've been born with dark magic too! It's a normal type of magic!"

[Those hands he summoned looked the same as back then.]

"Magical hands? Is that what is bothering you so much?! That's something almost every mage can do! Magic is not proof that someone is evil. Besides, he is an elf with BLACK hair. You could've figured out that he has a relationship with dark magic!"

[I thought he could've dyed them to hide his true elemental affinity.]

"Huh? That's idiotic! Why don't you paint your scales then to hide your own element, huh?!"

[My element is not frequently associated with evil.]

"No? Is it not?! Green dragons - famous for producing deadly toxins, corrosive substances, and flesh-eating acids. But yeah, nothing evil about that!"

[It's not just that. There is also a large chance they will be born with plant magic.]

"But that's not your case, is it?!"

[My magic is neither of those things either. A flammable, foul-smelling gas. That is nothing evil. Besides, even if I wanted to hide my own element, there is a big difference between dyeing your hair and literally painting your whole body.]

"Well... True. But still, he got hurt because of us. What if something happened to him?"

[He's a professional hunter. He will be fine.]

"I hope you're sure of that. We should probably still apologize to him."

[Fine, but only if we find him. We shouldn't go out just to search for him.]

"Yeah, he's probably in the village now. Maybe we should sneak in and leave like an apology letter on his doorstep."

[I don't think that's...]

They were both interrupted by a sudden rustling and an odd movement of leaves in one of the nearby bushes. The dragon waved at her friend to stay behind while he slowly approached to investigate. As he drew closer, his mouth started to fill with the flammable gas. He wasn't going to take any chances.

Alma was cautiously looking at her friend, when all of a sudden, something metal fell onto the ground next to her, clinking against the small rocks. A piece of rope was sticking out of it, burning, almost reaching its end.

"Surdi!" she called out and wanted to immediately run to him when the container suddenly burst open, filling the nearby area with dark orange dust.

"Surdi..." Alma mumbled as she emerged from the smoke. Her legs swiveled a bit from side to side before she fell to the ground, her eyes shut. Not a sound of all this managed to reach the dragon's deaf ears. He kept on approaching the bush, slowly and carefully.

"HA!" came out of the bush as an unknown man jumped out of it, throwing a net of burning metal bombs right at Surdi. The dragon reacted just as the bandits expected. Startled by the sudden danger, he fired off a powerful fireball, not even realizing what might happen. As his projectile hit the bombs, it shattered them to pieces and caused them to release their contents in a thick veil of orange smoke. Surdi coughed as the dust irritated his throat. His eyes were darting all over the place, looking for a way out, but the colorful cloud was preventing him from seeing properly.

"Careful! The dragon will take longer. Stay on your guard!" someone shouted from behind the trees around the area.

It didn't take long for Surdi to realize what had happened. All of a sudden, his sight seemed to be dragging behind, as if his brain was taking longer to process the surroundings he saw. He wanted to run away as quickly as he could, but his mind couldn't focus on anything but Alma. Where was she? What happened? Was she safe? He wandered the cloud, trying to hold his breath as much as possible, while his body grew weaker and weaker. Eventually, he found her, lying on the ground, completely unresponsive. He crouched over her and picked her up into his arms, but his legs didn't seem to have enough strength to stand up again, with or without her. He fell to the ground, seeing the nature around him twist and warp. There was no chance of escape. Not anymore. He quickly dug in fingers into the dirt. It was a feeble attempt, but it was worth trying. His claws managed to carve several symbols into the ground before darkness overtook his vision and his hand fell limp to the ground.

"Alright, both of them out. Clear the area!" Peldo's voice commanded.

"Chudazev!" his followers shouted and waved their arms, sending a powerful gust of wind to clear the dust from the area.

"Alright, tie 'em up, and let's take them back. And hurry. We've got about three hours according to the herbalist, but I don't trust him, so let's all pretend we need to be done in an hour, okay?"

The men jumped out of their hidings and gathered around the two children, binding their limbs with a thick rope and carrying them away, back towards the village.

"Chief?" one of the men approached Peldo.

"Yeah?"

"Iktan messed up. He breathed some of it in himself," he pointed to one of the workers lying unconscious in the bushes.

"Ah, what a shame."

"Sorry, I'll carry him home, boss."

"No."

"No?"

"Leave him. Let's see if he'll manage to wake up before the local predators tear him open," the lumberjack grinned and followed his party out of the woods.

"Alright, how about you start slow. Can you tell me exactly what you have in mind?" Clive asked after offering the hunter a seat, which he reluctantly took.

"Well, what do you know about Alma and Surdi?"

"Not much actually. Those two are like a local legend. Appeared about three weeks ago. They steal food and clothing, but always in small amounts and only from the crates that go to the city and not from the locals. This points to the fact that they steal to survive. What I don't understand is why."

"They fear going into the city. The girl claims that the people here... seem evil or something like that."

"Hmm, interesting conclusion. How did she come to it?"

"That's the thing. I don't have any idea. But it seemed like her intuition is top-notch. Must have something to do with the fact that she's soulless."

"Soulless? Impossible. People cannot function without a soul. They are catatonic. Comatose."

"Yeah, I know what a stolen soul looks like. Probably have seen too many for one's life. But you haven't seen her. She's different. Eyes like two marbles. Completely white. And... well, it seems she is dead. Not breathing, no pulse, cold, you know what I mean."

"A product of necromancy then?"

"No. Her body functions perfectly. No sign of decomposing or such. I think she is some sort of an exception."

"You mean a human that can survive without a soul?"

"Maybe. What I know is that it makes her a target."

"How so? I can only imagine circus people would be interested in her."

"Not really. She appears to be... unmovable. Like physically unmovable. She managed to drag me along the ground in a grip more powerful than the bite of an Asmodon. Yet, she didn't hurt my hand. Therefore, it's not strength that she has. It's something else."

"As in..., she's a fixed point? Can only be moved when she moves?"

"Yes. Or if she's willing to be moved. And if she can do that, who knows what else her soulless body might be hiding."

"Hmm... That is indeed quite disturbing. But knowing this doesn't mean she could be in danger."

"No, but somebody tried to kill me in the forest. Something tells me that is somehow connected with the two kids, and I think the one behind it is that lumberjack, Peldo."

"Ah, Peldo, I remember his file by heart. 42 years old, single, moved here half a year ago, quickly became popular due to his knowledge of nature. Educated by druids in Trinkeswald, he..."

"I don't need his biography!"

"Right... apologies. Force of habit. So why do you think he tried to kill you."

"I went hunting a Lunastag for him. A simple contract. But when I found the animal, it was behaving... strangely. Lunastags prefer moonlight, since they eat it, but can't survive on it alone, so they look for berries in the woods, which often suffice to sate them. Due to their preference for nighttime, during the day they rarely leave shades provided by the trees. But this one was standing in the middle of a meadow, under direct sunlight, eating berries that simply don't naturally grow in such places. When I tried to put it to sleep with a spell, I got... surprised and accidentally entered the meadow. In the very next moment, an arrow nearly killed me." The hunter put the arrow onto a table in front of him. "When I spoke to Peldo about it, I pretended to think that the traps are for the Lunastag. And he confirmed that. But why wouldn't they fire before when it was eating there? And furthermore, the tip of the arrow is..."

"Seekerstone. A metal that is naturally attracted to the DNA it has touched last. But they would need your blood to make it attracted to you."

"Not necessarily."

"Well, okay, any bodily fluid, but other ones are even harder to get."

"Not if you know that last night, I threw up all over a tree trunk in the forest."

"Oh... Oh! Of course! The root! You ate it during the night! Wait, you ate it during the night? Are you an idiot?"

"I know better now. Not important!"

"Right. So, an arrow that only fired when you got there and made of seeker stone. Yeah, that would most definitely point to the fact that you would be their target. But what does it have to do with the children?"

"The kids trusted me since I wasn't from the village. They wanted to lure them out with my help and probably figure out where they are usually hiding. Then dispose of me so I wouldn't interfere."

"Hmm... interesting. Well, sounds good enough for us to go pay a visit to Peldo." The detective stood up.

"Wait, not yet. We need to see the children first. I know where they tend to hide. So how about we first check if they are alright?"

"Good idea. I shall summon my men."

"No. They will notice if guards start going to the forest. Let's go alone. Just the two of us."

"And if we get ambushed?"

"Don't worry. They won't get the jump on me a second time."

The road to the forest was starting to feel awfully familiar to Glavas. He wondered how many times he'll have to walk it before he'd finally have some peace. The recent events have made him feel like the world was going crazy, and that he was starting to become a part of something much bigger, which he'd normally rather avoid.

"Ah, I see this is where you emptied your stomach," Clive stopped Glavas once they were passing the all-too-familiar hollow tree stump.

"Ugh, don't remind me. Let's just go. The little hiding place of the kids is not too far away from here. Maybe we'll find them if we're lucky."

"Wait, I wanna check this out." the detective replied and crouched over the stump.

"What, you want proof that I really ate the root? I just wanted to know if it really tasted so good, alright? And I only had a little bit!"

"No, that's not what I'm looking for. I can someone has been digging around in it."

"Gross..."

"Oh, grow up. I'm a detective, this is my job. Somebody definitely used it to make those arrows track you. Meaning that you were right. They were meant to kill you."

"Great. How about you tell me something I don't know yet?"

"Quit that sarcasm! It's my job. I'm not meddling with yours, so don't meddle with mine. I will need some evidence to put Peldo behind bars."

"Fine. But are you done already? If I remember correctly, time was of the essence the last time I checked."

"Yeah yeah, I'm going. Stop pushing me so much," Clive mumbled and while he went to catch up with Glavas, he took another swig from his large coffee canister.

By the time they arrived at the makeshift hideout, it was already too late. There wasn't a single sign that the children would be there, but the place certainly wasn't cleaned after the kidnapping.

"Fuck! They aren't here. And someone definitely came through here. See those footprints over there? Most definitely belong to the men who took them. I see... six of them? Shit," Glavas sighed. He felt terrible for letting the children stay on their own. He should've protected them. His judgment of going for Clive may have proven the biggest mistake he had made.

"Yes. I can see. All rather heavy footprints. Typical worker boots. Large size, all most likely male. They came from all sides around this place. The kids were surrounded. Here are some dragon footprints. Small... Practically a fresh teenager, taking dragon lifespan into account. He went into the bush and... oh... look, a corpse." When Clive said it, Glavas' heart skipped a beat.

"Corpse... no... please tell me you're kidding."

"Relax, it's one of the men. Chest torn open by something... But been lying here for a while... Hmm..."

"Probably a victim of the dust."

"Dust?" Clive looked at Glavas, not fully understanding what the elf means.

"See the orange hue on the mountain over there? That's on me. I thought they wanted to sell the Dreambiter flowers..."

"Dreambiters?"

"Yeah. I was paid to collect them. Probably used the dust to knock the two out. The way it's scattered along the cliff over there suggests that they filled this area with it, then blew it away with air magic. Hence why it got stuck on the rocks."

"I see... And Glavas, check out these little metal fragments around the place. Not shrapnel. Perfectly suited to completely open up. Smoke bomb-like design. Possibly used to spread the Dreambiter."

"Yeah. And this poor fella must've inhaled some of it himself. Idiot. Then wildlife came for him. I'd guess this would be an Uzla bear? Judging by the large bite marks and six-clawed scratches, it seems like it."

"Makes sense. There are a few fragments over there. That is probably where they grabbed the girl. A dragon, even a young one, would be more resistant to it. Especially a green one, due to his natural relation to toxins and chemicals. Around the bush, there are... about three bombs. Maybe more. Poor kid got quite the blast."

"Right, but his footprints lead further back. He was confused, dazed perhaps, stumbled and... heck, Clive, come look at this," the hunter waved at his ally to follow him.

"What have you got?"

"Something is written in the dirt here. Ruun... Ruunda? What is Ruunda?"

"No no, it's not complete. See the loose line at the end of it? Possibly lost consciousness before he could finish."

"Capital R. A name? Do you know someone like that?"

"Let's see... Ruunda... Ruunda..." Clive took a moment to think while gazing into the sky and flicking his arms in front of him as if he was searching through an imaginary file cabinet. "Nope, doesn't ring a bell. And I have an excellent memory for names. Never heard of them."

"Fuck... Then we've hit a blind spot."

"Not entirely."

"What do you mean?"

"Footprints lead that way but grow rather shallow for me to see them properly. Say, hunter, are you any good at tracking?"

"Heh, good? My friend, you better not doubt that for one second."

A loud sigh of relief filled the lumberjack's hideout as his men could finally drop the children from their backs. Alma was relatively easy to carry, but a young dragon was almost as heavy as a human adult, so by the end of their brief journey, they had to be taking turns and drawing straws when deciding who would carry him next.

"Fuck, I'm not getting paid enough for this. Why do we even need to drag them both here? I thought the boss only asked for the girl. We could just leave this pile of scales in the woods," one of the men complained as they finally got to toss their captives onto a pile of hay and rest for a moment.

Peldo frowned at the man upon hearing it. "Do not question my orders. I have a reason."

"I'm not questioning. Just tell us what your plan is exactly. The girl has been requested by Ruundanedai, but why the boy? What's so special about him?"

"Sometimes you really surprise me with your stupidity. The girl's power depends on her will. You cannot force her to use it. But she can be persuaded. That is what the dragon will be for. When his life is threatened, she will listen and do whatever we tell her."

"Ohh... That is smart. Yeah, no doubt you're the boss."

"Keep your flattery for someone who will care. And stop slacking off! Take the girl to the room in the back. I wish to keep them separated for now. Isolation will eat at their hope. The dragon will be kept here. Tie 'em to chairs. Do not mention anything about how the other one is doing. I want to keep them both guessing, thinking that their friend could be in mortal danger. That way, we'll make sure they'll listen."

"Ugh... Yes sir," the men replied and unwillingly dragged their exhausted bodies back on their feet and off to work.

Surdi didn't remember much. One moment, he was in the forest, watching the sky fade from his vision, now after a brief moment in the darkness, he could see again, but through the blurred image in front of his eyes, it was impossible to tell where he was or what was going on. He tried to at least mumble something, only to find a piece of fabric wrapped tightly around his muzzle.

"Good morning. Looks like the dust really did last three hours. Heh, well what do you know. Guess we'll be keeping our new herbalist after all," Peldo spoke, grinning at Surdi from a chair opposite of him, but he didn't get a single reaction from the dragon.

"Hello? Hellooooo? Are you with us? Come on! Stop fucking with me!" the lumberjack started to lose patience.

The moment Surdi managed to get a proper look at his captor, his eyes filled with anger. He knew him. Saw him many times wandering through the woods. Alma always wanted to avoid him at all costs, claiming that something felt strange about him. Now he knew what it was.

"So, before things get busy once the boss gets here, why don't we chat a bit. Did you sleep well? Enjoying our luxurious hotel?"

Surdi didn't react. He simply tilted his head to the side and squinted his eyes at Peldo.

"What? Can't see me? Here I am!" he waved at the dragon. Have your eyes started working again already?"

The only reaction he got was a confused shrug.

"Hey, can you even speak the human language? Achtčas irvš ir di draca?" he asked, hoping that at least the few basics of the native dragon tongue would help him.

The reaction was still the same as before.

"Hey boss, maybe he's deaf," one of the men in the room threw their impressions into the air.

"Huh? Well... okay, anyone speaks deaf here?"

"I do," a different of Peldo's underlings replied and approached the prisoner. "I know some sign language."

[Can you understand me now?] he signed at the dragon, to which Surdi nodded.

"There, see? Deaf."

"Great, but that is no fun," Peldo rolled his eyes and stood up from his chair. "I'm gonna go and wait for the boss in the main room. You just do whatever you want with this fucker. Just be careful, okay?"

"Heh, roger that," the man grinned. "But boss, can we untie his hands at least? I want to speak with it."

"Fine, but the moment he tries to set himself free, just tie him back up again, understood? We need them both, and I will personally dismember anyone who will lose him. Oh, and before I go, what about the girl?"

"Oh, she hasn't woken up yet. Guess we'll have to wait for that."

"Good. At least she won't be causing any trouble. I'm leaving it in your hands, gentlemen." He turned around and walked out of the room.

The men cut free Surdi's hands and laughed as a few of his scales fell off due to the tight bindings. "Haha, and this is what the dragon hunters made armor off? Good to know that I can kill them with a rope."

[So, how does it feel to know who's coming for you? To know that you have failed to save your only friend?] one of the men taunted the young dragon.

[I am not afraid of you. Nor do I worry about Alma.] At the very next moment, a fist landed on his face, nearly knocking him and the chair over.

[Not afraid? You should be. Who knows what we've done to your friend while you were out. Don't you wonder?]

[No. You're smiling, so she's still asleep. You'll stop once she wakes up. Because she can't be contained. Not by metal bars in a castle dungeon, and most certainly not by that cheap rope you bought on sale.]

The man, visibly enraged by the dragon's resistance, pulled his arm back, ready to punch him again, but as the fist approached his scaly face, Surdi simply leaned out of the way. The chair along with him was falling to the ground, but before he could hit the moldy floor, green smoke shot out of his nostrils and very quickly ignited. The flames swiftly disposed of the cloth patch binding his mouth and burned away the knots on the ropes, so escaping was only a matter of dexterity. That, fortunately, was Surdi's specialty. Though the moment he was free and back up on his feet, the five men surrounded him, blocking all possible exits and ready to go toe to toe with a dragon, should it be necessary, even though a few specks of fear could be seen in their eyes.

Meanwhile, outside of the back room, in the main part of the Old Burrow's warehouse, Peldo was leaning against the wall, impatiently awaiting the arrival of his boss. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. It's been a long time since he last had a good smoke. And such a successful mission should be celebrated. He was on his way to put it into his mouth when he heard a metal click right next to his head. As his eyes moved to investigate, they were met with the dark and hollow barrel of Glavas' firearm.

"One move and I'll blast your head clean off," the hunter whispered.

"Or one word, should you feel like calling your friends," a dark silhouette added from the corner, though Peldo didn't need to think twice to recognize the voice of detective Featherfear. "You have my admiration, Glavas. Your dark magic really is good for infiltration. Just as you said."

Surdi's eyes darted around the room. Five people. That's how many of them were surrounding him. All exits seemed to be blocked or difficult to reach. As for the weapons of his captors, they were all varied. Spear, sword, mace, and so on. He would have to adapt to avoid being hurt. Easier said than done. The young dragon briefly shifted his weight from one foot to another. The wooden floor was old and badly maintained. Possibly moldy. Which, however, also made it more fragile.

It didn't take long before the men started to move in. Though their advance was not a mindless one. The spear bearer shifted forward and tried stabbing the dragon, aiming mostly for his legs and shoulders. Surdi backed away, only to be met by a blade of a sword, swinging at him from behind. He ducked under it and as a third attacker approached, he spread his legs out slightly to gain better balance. Avoiding the attacks was not easy especially not the way Surdi wanted. He kept on shuffling his feet along the ground, always slowly backing away while dodging what he could. If it was impossible to move out of the way in time, he instead used his arms to deflect the blows. Sometimes, it had been easier, other times less so. He was no experienced fighter and so many small bleeding cuts were gradually appearing all over his body. On the other hand, the bandits were completely unscathed. Attacking back was something Surdi didn't know how to do just yet. They were well organized, always covering each other the moment one of them has left his defenses even slightly open. Like this, Surdi circled the whole room with them, receiving light wounds, but staying very much alive. But such a fight could prove to be his undoing, should it be prolonged. He had to somehow strike back and if a physical attack would be impossible, then magic had to be the answer.

Through a narrow gap in his lips, he spat out small clouds of his volatile gas, igniting each of them with a silent "neho" incantation, which flew through his mind. The tiny fireballs weren't very effective, but at the very least they managed to keep his attackers at bay. All four of them seemed to be preoccupied with avoiding getting burned and so finally, the young dragon had some time to think. "Wait, only four?" he quickly thought, just in time to avoid an incoming attack of the fifth bandit, who in the meantime managed to grab a hold of a large metal shield. As Surdi crouched, he felt it hit the tip of one of his horns. If he had dodged just a few seconds later, it would've been his head.

The bandit, however, did not seem too bothered by the dragon's agility and quickly retaliated by turning around and bashing the youngling with the shield's full size. Surdi stumbled backward and fell to his knee. Spite was cumulating in his body. His clawed fingers dug into the wood underneath him as he thought of his next course of action.

Before he could react, however, one of the men ran up to him and tackled him to the ground. Both of them slid along the floor, further towards the main exit. Surdi had to cover his face, as a storm of punches flew right towards it. For a moment, he felt helpless, desperately swinging his legs around, trying to shake off the man that was now sitting on top of him.

The bandit smiled as he noticed one of his fists finally make an impact against the dragon's face. However, his joy was short-lived. Very soon after he felt Surdi's left hook connect with his jaw. With the attacker dazed, it was much easier to knock him off. The moment that was done, Surdi sprung up to his feet, only to once again just barely move out of the way of an incoming blade. He dodged the few rapid cuts and stumbled backward, nearly falling over again. When the man saw his opponent struggling like that, he moved in to stab him, but with a quick movement, Surdi managed to kick the blade out of his hand. The bandit was careless and now he paid for it. Disarmed, he was vulnerable to the dragon's counterattack. But before the youngling could do anything, another underling of Peldo moved in and covered his ally's retreat. Their coordination was terrifying. With nowhere to run and no obvious way to win, Surdi felt pushed into a corner more than ever. Out of sheer desperation, he took a deep breath and exhaled a large amount of fire right towards the men, hoping to at least keep some distance thanks to it.

His plan did not last for long. He tried shuffling to the side, to get a better position when he saw the men backing away from the flames, but only a few seconds later, he felt the heat burning his own mouth. He was not used to it. Fire was not his element. There was no way he could keep this up for long. The moment he stopped, he barely got enough time to take a breath. The spear bearer rushed towards him, showering him with stabs from a safe distance. Surdi kept backing away, desperately dodging the relentless attacks, but it was even harder than before. Because he's been exhaling the flames for so long, his breathing was off. He wanted to take a momentary break just to get it back under control, but unfortunately for him, his attackers noticed his brief weakness. It felt as if his lungs were burning. Each of his defensive moves lacked the proper strength and footing. There was simply too much to focus on right now, and he wasn't managing that. His feet scurried along the floor almost randomly as he did his best to avoid the attacks, many of which still found their mark and caused him some painful, yet fortunately not lethal wounds.

But the more the young dragon bled, the more arrogant and reckless his attacker became. He saw the dragon panicking, and so he decided to briefly throw all caution into the wind and simply deal as much damage as possible. It took a while, but eventually, Surdi noticed it. The man was pushing the spear further. Before, he was only going for light and shallow attacks, but now it seemed as if he wanted to run the dragon through. And that was exactly what Surdi was waiting for. Once the spear had once against approached him, he moved out of its way and then slashed at it with his claws. Both his hands came down onto the weapon from different angles. The wood simply had no choice but to snap underneath the sheer force. This was the moment. Surdi knew that right now, he had to kill this man. There was no doubt about that. And he was ready. He did a step forward, ready to slash his throat. Unfortunately, just as before, the bandits had a great knack for watching each other’s backs.

An arrow shot through the air. It was so fast the young dragon didn't even notice it. Nor did he manage to see the one who fired it - the shortest of the five men, crouching behind some crates in the far corner of the room. The arrow was not normal. It was faster. That much Surdi knew. Maybe enchanted or somehow specially designed. Though none of that mattered. He felt great pain as it dug into his shoulder, forcing him to stumble backward and onto the ground.

The men laughed and cheered. Finally, somebody managed to take the dragon down, at least temporarily. They shouted flattering words at their friend, who just luckily remembered that one of their supply boxes contained some arrows.

While the majority of the group celebrated, the spear-bearer walked toward the young dragon. His face glowing with twisted joy

"End of the line for you. That wasn't really a good idea, was it? Though I'd say you lasted a bit longer than a chicken would." The other men laughed and approach him as well.

"Now, what shall we do with you for all that ruckus? Hmm... We can't kill you. But there are plenty of things we can take that you won't be needing. Maybe without a leg, you won't feel so optimistic about running next time," the closest bandit threatened him and pulled a large knife out of his boot. "Now, which one would you say you need the least?" he grinned.

"Don't bother with him. He's deaf," one of his "co-workers" shouted from the back.

"Oh right. Poor thing, you don't even know what I'm saying, right?"

Surdi's eyes focused on the man. The bandit took it as a sign of fear. As if the youngling wanted to stare into the face of the man that is most likely about to kill him. Though that couldn't have been further from the truth. Surdi wasn't paying any attention to the man's eyes, in fact. He was simply targeting.

With great pain, he swung his right arm towards the bandit. It felt numb and had almost no strength, but after all, he didn't need it to do much. His other hand was necessary. The man panicked a bit when he saw the last feeble attempt to struggle and he quickly pushed Surdi's right arm away, completely oblivious to the left one that was approaching his throat.

The banding coughed as he felt blood rushing into his mouth but largely escaping through the gaping wound on his neck. He wanted to quickly back away, but the same clawed arm grabbed him by the jaw and pulled him closer.

"I caen read lips, dick!" the dragon mumbled and kicked the floorboard under him. In the next moment, the entire room lit up. Glowing symbols appeared on the floor. A large round circle covering the entire place along with smaller symbols was hastily scratched into the moldy wood with surprisingly sufficient grammatical correctness. The men recognized these symbols. Almost everyone would. It was the very basic of magical language. A letter, but also a word - "neho".

Glavas kept one eye closed, while the other looked through the iron sight of his gun. He had Peldo's head right in front of him. All it would take was one push of the trigger and his face would, in the better case, receive some major burns.

"Hmm... smart. How did you figure it all out, I wonder," the lumberjack grinned as he stared right down the barrel.

"Wasn’t difficult. You tried to assassinate Glavas. Feared that he knew too much or would become an obstacle. So, you created that arrow that was homing onto his DNA. You hoped that the stag would blind Glavas, which is why you attracted it to the meadow. If he was blinded by the animal's magic, he wouldn't even know the arrow was coming. In the meantime, you'd simply take the children and use them. For what, I do not know. But you will tell us sooner or later. After all, we do have a way of getting into people's heads," Clive explained and took a big sip of coffee. The strong, bitter taste was what allowed him to keep talking for so long.

"Hmm... Impressive. But if you think you'll get some information out of me, then you are dearly mistaken." Peldo moved fast. Almost too fast for Glavas to do something. With his right hand, he quickly pushed the weapon away from his head and towards the wall. In addition, he crouched, to make sure he would get out of the range as soon as possible. Glavas was not expecting their adversary to move with such speed. But although it surprised him, he still managed to fire. A large hurling ball of flames tore through the air and burned a considerably big dark patch into the wall behind Peldo. However, the lumberjack didn't escape unscathed. His right cheek was clearly seared by the magical attack.

Before either the hunter or the detective could move in and strike again, Clive reached into the big pockets of his pants and pulled out a small, metal object - a hilt that seemed like that of a sword, but missing a guard, and with a spiky ball on top, instead of an actual blade.

"Move!" Clive shouted at Glavas the moment he saw the weapon. There it was, the murder weapon, no doubt.

As Peldo pushed one of the two small buttons on the hilt, the spiky metal orb shot out, followed by a long, extending chain, which seemed as if it was woven out of several smaller ones. The elven hunter saw no threat in such a weapon. After all, he had fought against people wielding flails before. He simply dodged out of the way of the first swing and quickly prepared himself to shoot again, but before he could even take a proper aim, the spiky ball curved in its path and knocked the firearm out of Glavas' hand.

"Dodge!" Clive screamed when he fully realized what the weapon was. Too late. Although the hunter tried his best, there was no way he could've avoided such a storm of attacks. The chain bent and twisted almost as if it had a life of its own. Each strike that fortunately missed him had quickly changed its trajectory to try again. And what was worst, it seemed as though nothing could stop it. It was tearing through wooden boxes and crates that got in its way as if nothing was happening.

"It's reactive silver! He has full control over it! Don't try to..." the detective tried to instruct Glavas, but before he could finish, the metal ball bounced off the ground and headed straight for his head. Just barely did he manage to dodge.

The situation worsened. Clive retreated behind several barrels, which were standing in the corner of the room. Seeing that he was no threat, Peldo turned all his attention to Glavas. After all, he feared him far more than the old and tired investigator. The flail whistled through the air and continued its series of relentless attacks, demolishing everything in its path. What complicated the situation further was Peldo's sheer skill. He must've been using the weapon for ages. Each movement of his hand was calculated and incredibly fast. He always knew how to move for his flail to react just as he wanted it to. This gave Glavas even less space for reacting. He simply tried to move out of the way but didn't avoid receiving several nasty cuts and bruises.

Clive watched this with absolute horror. He hated confrontation in which he didn't know if he could win. That's why he brought Glavas along. He thought that such an experienced hunter wouldn't have any problems with an ordinary lumberjack. Yet he was blind. Of course, he wouldn't be just ordinary. Criminals rarely were.

The investigator slapped himself in the face. As much as he hated joining fights, he simply couldn't avoid this one. So, he reached into the small pouch under his poncho. It was filled to the brim with tiny metal balls, which were often used as bullets. Except that for these, he didn't need a firearm.

"Kaselboltes!" he shouted and threw the tiny metal orb, which flew through the air at an enormous speed, leaving behind a tiny glowing trail.

Peldo's weapon moved and as the chain blocked the magical bullet, sparks flew off it. Then, the lumberjack's eyes landed on the detective. He was dangerous too. Much more than he originally anticipated.

Clive's thoughts suddenly got filled with two simple words: "Oh shit..." As the weapon slithered over to him and began trashing the place like a rampaging serpent, the investigator realized that there would simply be no time to carefully plan his next move. He had to act. Right here and right now. He reached into his pocket and with several repetitions of the word "Kaselboltes," he started throwing his metal bullets all over the place, hoping that at least some of them would hit their target. This worried Peldo. Although Clive's accuracy was nothing too threatening, the sheer number of the attacks meant that at least some of them would eventually hit. And at a speed like that, a single lucky strike could've been lethal.

And so, the flail retreated. Instead of flying rapidly all over the place, it was now almost floating around its master. Sparks were flying across the room as a few of the bullets collided with the long chain. Clive saw this as an opportunity and kept going. His pouch, however, was emptying rather quickly and once he'd run out, he would be completely useless.

Fortunately, Glavas knew that such an offensive would not last, and so while Peldo was preoccupied with Clive, the hunter swiftly reloaded his weapon with a different crystal, one of white color. A few seconds later, a loud gunshot could be heard, and a strong wave of air magic blew through the room. Peldo was expecting Glavas would attack, but not like this. Not with an attack that would turn the room upside down. He managed to dodge out of the way, but the massive blast caused all the rubble in the room to start flying left and right like makeshift projectiles. This surprised Clive as well. He never expected that the elf would go for such a double-edged attack.

Peldo swiftly made a tactical choice. He noticed that this was spontaneous and not part of some well-thought-out plan, due to Clive's reluctance to follow up with another strike. Therefore, he had to use the momentary confusion between the two men to get rid of at least one of them. The flying wooden shrapnel was stabbing into his body, but the man simply didn't care. His flail shot out once again, swirling in the air, making it almost impossible to predict how exactly it would attack.

"Kaselboltes!" Clive shouted almost too late. His own magic surrounded him and quickly tossed him into the air and onto one of the wooden supports under the roof. He was barely holding on. His right wrist was bleeding, and it was clear that at least one of his fingers got hit before the magic could save him. He wasn’t quite sure whether it was broken or not, but judging by the pain, it was certainly possible.

Glavas saw his friend shoot up into the air with his magic and then struggle on the wooden beam, his hands ready to give up any moment. The flail was already waiting for him. To protect Clive, the elven hunter needed to act fast. He rolled up the sleeve of his jacket and screamed out as loudly as he could. Partially to draw Peldo’s attention, but also due to the intense pain as he pulled a short dark blade out of one of his tattoos.

“Hezaz!” he shouted and gently tapped the flat side of the sword. Purple runes began to glow alongside it and a liquid of a similar color started to seep out of the edge.

Peldo immediately saw that as a threat. He didn’t know what the weapon would be for, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the liquid coming off it would most likely be poison. He must’ve avoided being cut by it at any cost. The flail retreated back, and it wasn’t long before it swarmed Glavas with an unending storm of attacks. His blade clashed with the weapon, blocking the quick strikes, but no matter how hard the hunter tried, he didn’t seem to be able to find a suitable opening for advance. Peldo was winning due to the distance. His attacks had a range that Glavas could only match with his gun, but even if he did, the lumberjack would always block it or dodge. It was a stalemate and the one who’d mess up first would lose.

In the meantime, Clive collected himself one again. The hit he received was painful, but he still had his other hand. There was still a chance. He carefully jumped back down and then reached into his pouch, pulling out a large number of the small bullets. He had one more trick up his sleeve but wondered if there was enough ammunition left for it. No, that didn’t matter right now. All he had to do was somehow help Glavas get closer to the man.

Clive threw the balls into the fray with another quick incantation. This time, however, it was a bit longer - “kaselboltes zardo!” At first glance, the projectiles didn’t seem any different from the ones he threw before, but once they were repelled by Peldo’s almost impenetrable defense, they left small, round, glowing surfaces wherever they landed.

“Get him, now!” the detective shouted as his comrade and kept on throwing more and more of his enchanted attacks. The ground and walls were progressively being covered with the shining patches. Each time one of Clive’s bullets would land on them, it would bounce and fly immediately towards where he was currently looking. In the meantime, his bloodshot eyes were staring at Peldo, not even blinking.

Glavas screamed again and the metal staff he used earlier to scare off Surdi and Alma emerged out of his arm. He knew he had to keep attacking. With all his strength and all his endurance, right now he had to push forward. Clive didn’t have the means to defend himself against Peldo’s attacks, so Glavas had to make sure that the lumberjack wouldn’t get the opportunity to focus on the detective.

He rushed forward. The staff worked wonderfully. It absorbed almost all the force of any impact it would endure. The perfect tool for defense. With each blocked strike, a hollow metal sound could be heard and the air around Glavas seemed to slightly ripple and flow outwards across the room.

Peldo shouted, driving himself to the utmost limit. His arm felt as if it was going to fall off any second, yet he kept swinging faster and faster, making sure to slow down Glavas’ progress as much as possible. But with his defenses lowered and focus shifted only onto one of his enemies, more and more of Clive’s bullets were managing to hit him. The pain was becoming unbearable, but he still wasn’t just going to give up.

Glavas pushed forward. His staff stopped most of the attacks. What it couldn’t block, he parried with the dark sword. It was a slow progress, but a sure one. They would manage to do it. Just a minute or two more and Peldo’s strength would run out.

Clive slowly walked over to the side, making sure to keep his attacks as random as possible, to ensure the best effect. Then, out of nowhere, his foot bumped into something. He briefly looked at it and saw an almost-intact wooden lid of one of the destroyed boxes. That was it. The variable that would win them their fight.

“Kaselboltes zardo!” he shouted and kicked the lid towards one of the walls. It bounced off a few times, flying around the room. This drew Peldo’s attention, but there was no time to worry about a stray piece of wood. Clive grabbed the rest of his supplies and tossed them all as a singular final attack, literally showering the lumberjack with lead. With great exhaustion, the man shifted his weapon to the side and although he allowed Glavas to get even closer to him, he managed to protect his vital organs from the detective’s bullets.

And then it happened. Out of nowhere, he felt something hit his ankles. It was moving so fast and with so much force that it was simply impossible to maintain balance. The lumberjack looked down and saw the wooden lid sweeping his legs. His back quickly approached the ground.

“Kill him!” Clive shouted, not willing to risk taking him in alive. He was too dangerous. This was a kill or be killed scenario.

Glavas didn’t let himself be persuaded. The moment Peldo’s attacks seized, he jumped as high as he could, ready to stomp on the man. The flail flew through the air one last time, as a feeble attempt to block the final strike. A bell-like ring echoed through the room as Glavas’ staff parried the attack. With the sound of snapping floorboards, Glavas landed right on top of the lumberjack and before even a single scream could escape his throat, the hunter’s dark blade severed the man’s head.

Both the hunter and the detective sat on the ground, completely exhausted. They needed at least a brief moment of respite before heading further into the warehouse. None of them said a single word, but they knew far too well that if the other people would be even half as skilled as Peldo, they wouldn’t stand a chance. Their fatigue and pain could not be expressed by anything else but their heavy breathing and empty stares. Glavas took a deep breath and wanted to urge his newfound ally to keep moving, but he didn’t get the chance to. Something exploded on the farther side of the warehouse. A shockwave tore down the walls and tossed the men towards the main entrance. The whole building shook and it didn’t take long for rubble to start falling on their heads.

Glavas moved quickly. He pushed through all the pain and exhaustion he felt and quickly jumped to Clive’s while pulling his gun out of its holster. A powerful blast of air shot out into the sky, knocking the falling rubble aside. The hunter just prayed that it wouldn’t hit anyone outside.

Both their ears were ringing, but other than their already received injuries, they were fine. Clive stood up and helped the elven hunter to his feet as well.

“Quick! The children!” he shouted, hoping to get at least some of the information through Glavas’ temporarily poor hearing. The hunter nodded and they both rushed towards the burning remnants of the house.

It was a terrifying sight to behold. The corpses of the workers from the village were scattered around the place. One impaled on a broken wooden beam, other charred so bad his face could no longer be recognized, and the rest crushed and buried underneath the rubble. Glavas looked at all this and his stomach was turning upside down. Was this his doing? Perhaps a spark from the flaming bullet he fired earlier accidentally detonated something inside the warehouse? The idea of him not only killing the bandits but also burying two innocent children under such destruction almost paralyzed him.

“Here! Found one!” Clive shouted and fortunately snapped the hunter from the idea of a catastrophe. Glavas rushed over to see the young dragon lying unconscious on what was previously most likely a wall.

“Look for the other one!” the detective shouted and quickly picked up the boy. “I’ll take this one to a healer. You find the girl and follow us as quickly as possible, understood?”

“Got it!” the hunter confirmed and ran deeper into the smoldering ruins. He wrapped a piece of cloth around his face, to at least have some protection against the smoke, and kept searching. No piece of stone or wood was left unturned. He moved what he could to uncover what was underneath, and what was too heavy to move, he blasted away with a wind bullet. There was a total of five corpses. All were adult men beyond any chance of saving. Yet the girl was nowhere to be found. This gave Glavas a plethora of terrifying ideas, most of which he tried to forget as soon as they appeared. All his worries, however, disappeared the moment he looked at one corner of the warehouse that was, most likely due to sheer luck itself, still standing. There was a hole in the wall. But not one created by an explosion. A hole almost perfectly shaped like a human. Not only that, but it was also too small for Glavas or any of Peldo’s men to fit through. “She must’ve escaped before the explosion happened,” he thought and kept on searching for a while longer until he felt his body almost literally screaming for rest.

Twenty minutes have passed since Clive left Glavas in the ruined building and the detective was becoming restless. He kept on prancing back and forth across the healer’s office, nervously biting his nails.

“I hope he’s alright. He has to be. He must be alright, right? I didn’t leave him there with like a functional deadly trap, right?”

“Calm down. If you’re having doubts, go check on him. The place isn’t too far from here after all,” the healer tried his best to calm him down.

“Oh yeah? And leave you here with the dragon alone? Hell no! You could be one of them. We have no idea how deep Peldo’s underground goes. Nu-uh, you’re staying right under my radar, sir!”

“Fine. But at least sit down. You must be so exhausted.”

“No. I’m fine. Totally. Do you have coffee perhaps?”

“Umm… no, but I have a wonderful herbal tea. Great for your psyche and…”

“Ah, forget it. I don’t drink tea,” the detective rejected the offer. His mind briefly returned to his coffee mug. Bits and pieces of it were now scattered across the ruins of the warehouse. He almost shed a tear for it. He loved that mug. It was always full of coffee that could keep him going. Without it, he felt as if the whole world was shrouded in a fog of mystery.

Finally, someone knocked on the door. Before the healer could even say “come in”, Clive already ran over to open it.

“Glavas! Where the fuck have you been? You found the girl?”

The hunter frowned at the detective and spoke only after a brief moment of silence. “You could’ve told me where the healer lives! I’ve been running around the village like an idiot, asking the locals, who just ran away from me, since I look like I’ve just butchered someone,” he said and gestured over his blood-soaked shirt. “Which… well, they would kinda be right about. And I haven’t found the girl. She must’ve escaped beforehand, judging by the remains of one of the rooms. She seems to be able to…”

“AAAAAAAAAAAH!” the healer shouted from the room next door, accompanied by a sound of splintering wood. Both men immediately rushed in. Glavas was aiming his gun right towards anything that would seem even remotely dangerous, and Clive, all out of his bullets, was cowering behind him.

As they entered the room, they found a visibly traumatized healer sitting under his table and covering his head. One of the walls next to him had a small, human-shaped hole in it, and right in front of it stood Alma, in all her creepy glory.

“Surdi! I found you! Wake up!” she called out the moment her eyes landed on her little dragon friend, who was currently lying unconscious on one of the healer’s beds. The girl started to shake him in an attempt to wake him up. When Glavas noticed her tearful eyes, he walked over to her and gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay, he’ll be alright. But he needs some rest. It would be wrong of you to wake him up now.”

She stopped and wiped her eyes into her dirty sleeve. “Okay… But when will he wake up?”

“Sh-Shouldn’t take long. But… umm… would you mind… explaining that?” the healer’s head peeked out from underneath the table and his shaking hand pointed over to the hole in his living room.

“Oh… yeah, sorry. I was just worried. I had to know if he’s okay, so I just… made a shortcut,” Alma explained, nervously gripping her left hand.

“I saw a similar thing in that warehouse. So… what? You are soulless so you can just walk through objects?” the hunter asked, feeling like he already knew the answer.

“Kinda. I mean… when I really want it, I can walk through anything. Trees, mountains, walls…”

“What if someone gets in your way?” Clive asked.

“Well, nothing really happens. I just push them aside. Though if they try too hard to stop me, they usually get hurt. But that’s not my fault! They are just being reckless,” she defended herself while waving her hands.

“So… unmovable and unstoppable. Yeah, no wonder they wanted to kidnap you. Can you imagine such a power?” said Glavas.

“Yeah, that is like the wish of every criminal. Just walk into a bank vault, take what you want, and leave. Get caught? No prison can hold you. Maybe even no sealing magic. I guess that would have to be tested and…”

“HEY!” the elf quickly interrupted Clive’s rambling. “Stop. She looks distressed.”

“Oh… sorry. I mean… it’s just…”

“I didn’t choose this,” she responded. “We… got into trouble, Surdi and me. We saw a demon in hiding devouring someone’s soul. There was no way we could run. As he grabbed me, I pushed Surdi away and told him to escape. Then I remember the cold… and waking up. Piles of bodies around me. And that smell…” her legs buckled, and she would fall to the ground if it wasn’t for Glavas’ swift reaction. He caught her and sat her down on a bench, right next to a fireplace.

The healer didn’t want to stand there doing nothing at this point. He understood very little but didn’t need to know the whole truth to help a little girl. He threw a blanket over her shoulders and handed her a small cup of tea. “Here, you can have mine for now. I will go brew some more for you, okay?” With a smile, he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the four alone in the room. Alma’s eyes kept flying between her cup and the unconscious Surdi on the bed. The sight worried her. His right leg was wrapped in a layer of glowing blue bandages that seemed to pulse and twitch like a giant limb-eating worm, and his arm was hanging in a white sling tied around his neck.

“Don’t worry, he will be alright,” Clive assured her. “His leg got burned quite bad. Must’ve been close to the source of the explosion. Maybe he stepped on a mine or something. But his scales protected him, fortunately. Though it might leave a scar, it shouldn’t be anything unhealable. At least according to that guy,” he pointed with his thumb towards the kitchen behind him. “His arm apparently got shot with an arrow. He’ll need to rest it before he gets all his strength back. Nevertheless, even that will heal” the detective tried his best to calm the girl down. At a first glance, it seemed like he succeeded.

“So, what is the plan now? Gonna catch the rest of Peldo’s little criminal underground?” Glavas asked the detective.

“No, I think I’ll go back to the city. Although I’d love to figure out how many of them were actually cooperating on this, I can’t really stick around for too long. I have other matters to attend to and the king specifically sent me here regarding the murder. I have resolved that. Peldo’s flail was definitely the murder weapon and the fact that it was made from reactive silver provides further evidence. The markings we found at the scene could’ve most certainly been caused by a weapon like that.”

“Yeah, but I still can’t believe it. Was that really just reactive silver? Most people refuse to use it for weapons because it moves on its own and reacts to even the smallest of movements. Swords made of it are considered useless. You’re telling me that he used a flail like that without any magic?”

“It seemed that way. The weapon didn’t seem enchanted, and his movements were quick but precise. The sheer training he must’ve undergone would be crazy, but it’s not impossible.”

Glavas didn’t want to admit it, but he was happy that Clive was with him. Although he had fought powerful bandits and assassins before, he never had to face off against someone like that. Without Clive, it would’ve been much harder. Or perhaps easier, if he could use his magical songs? He was unsure. But none of that mattered now. They won, saved the kids, and that was the important part. Although he couldn’t fully shake the feeling that Peldo’s death could’ve been avoided. The elven hunter swore an oath many years ago that he would never kill a person. Of course, such a promise sounded nice but was difficult to keep. People weren’t always very fond of him and so he had met plenty of assassins and hired blades, as well as bandits and highwaymen. In those cases, he usually tried to only pacify them with the least amount of force possible, but that was not always the case. If they proved to be too strong, there was no way Glavas would have survived if he held back. And so, killing was the only option. That, however, didn’t mean he enjoyed it. Life wasted, even in the case of the worst of people, was still greatly saddening.

The young dragon lying on the bed mumbled something and finally opened his eyes. The moment that happened, Alma straightened her back from previous slouching and a smile quickly appeared on her face.

“Where am I?” the dragon asked, with poor but still legible articulation.

“He talks?!” Glavas raised his eyebrows and gave Clive a confused look.

“He talks!” the detective replied with the same surprise in his voice.

“Yeah, I thalk, Wasn’ deaf my whole life, you know?” he mumbled.

“Wait, you can hear us?” the hunter asked him just as surprised as before.

“No, but I read lips. Few words are not hard to figure out.”

Before they could ask him any more questions, Alma leaped up on her feet and practically jumped onto Surdi, wrapping her arms around him.

“Aaaa! Pain! Hurts! Stop!” he protested, but it still took a while before the girl let him go.

[Surdi! I’m so happy you’re okay! And… I’m sorry. They came for you because of me.]

“Ah, no wurries. We both survived, no?”

The two kids shared their sentimental moments while the healer returned from the kitchen and began tending to Glavas’ wounds. They weren’t as deep and serious that Clive’s, but the numerous cuts still needed some proper treatment. The hunter watched the man’s work with great fascination. Water flew out of his hands and into the wounds, slowly sealing them.

“How are you holding up, by the way?” Glavas asked and nodded towards the detective’s freshly splinted fingers.

“This? Honestly, I’ve been through worse. Making it out of that hellhole with a few bruises and a broken finger? Sure, as hell sounds like a good deal to me. Though I’d sacrifice more of them for the survival of my mug…” He ran his tongue along his dry lips. He couldn’t put into words how much he missed it. “What about you? Hope you didn’t lose too much blood out there?” he gestured over Glavas’ blood-soaked clothes.

“Huh? This? That’s mostly not mine. If you cut a head off, it makes a mess. All those stains are mostly just Peldo.”

“Well, good to know that.” Clive let the healer finish his work before the two men continued their conversation.

“So, what do you plan to do now? I assume you won’t go for the Lunastag anymore, huh?”

“No. Of course not. I’ll just hit the road, travel a bit, make some money, and then buy some more delicious food with it.”

“Really? That’s it? No grander plans?”

“What’s grander than delicious food? I want to taste it all. Every dish on the whole wide Ezma!”

“Heh, well, I see no reason why not to. Is that your Flaming way? That’s what it’s called, right? The lifelong goal of an elf?”

“It’s Path of the Flame, and no, I don’t believe in that nonsense.”

“Really? First time I hear that coming from your kind. How so?”

“Eh, I don’t like the way it ends. You’re supposed to fulfill your dreams and then just die? Hell no! My origin gave me nothing. My culture detested me. So, I’ll give nothing to my culture. Seriously, you could cut off these pointy ears, and, other than my lifespan, there would be nothing elven left on me.”

“Well, I won’t pry for your life’s story. It’s none of my business, after all. But perhaps if you’re ever traveling to Cronden or any of the nearby towns, come look for me. Maybe we can go for a drink or something. I’ll tell you about murders, and you’ll tell me about hunts.”

“Heh, sounds like a deal,” the hunter grinned at his friend and then turned to the children. “And what about you, kiddos? Where do you plan to go?”

“With you!” Alma called out without a second of doubt.

“Not a chance. I travel alone,” Glavas replied.

“You are strong though. And kind. We will be the safest with you. And Surdi agrees with it. You came to save us. And without the two of you, he would’ve surely died back there. So that makes you a good person.”

“No, you don’t understand. You can’t come with me. The magic I normally use is based on sound. Anyone who hears it will be affected by it. It can alter your feelings and thinking, and overall be really dangerous.”

“Sound magic? I can’t hear, so I’m fine with your terrible playing,” the dragon called out.

“And mind manipulation of any kind doesn’t work on me anyway. You know, perks of being soulless. So as long as your songs don’t summon a blizzard or something like that, I’m fine.”

“But… I can’t. I can’t lose more people like that. I’m sorry.”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Surdi muttered. “You can't refuse. She’s made up her mind. And she’s unstoppable. Literally. Many tried, and all failed. We are coming with you. Deal with it!”

The hunter didn’t know what to say. He frantically looked around the room, until eventually stopping his eyes on Clive, hoping that he would help him out.

The detective grinned at him. “Well, would you look at that? Seems like your Flaming path takes on a different shape.”

Glavas sighed and thought: “This is precisely why I don’t like children.”

[Alright, the burns should be healed, at least for the most part. Try taking a few steps. Slowly and carefully,] the healer instructed the young dragon after he had taken the bandages off his leg. Both Clive and Glavas offered to support Surdi as he tested out his mobility.

“It’s… normal? Slightly numb, but feels normal,” the dragon assured them and truly, his steps seemed to carry only a minuscule sign of injury, characterized by a slight limp.

[Yes, the numbness will pass eventually. Though I am afraid I cannot do anything about the scarring. I am no plastic surgeon.] The healer signed and gestured over the youngling’s lower leg, which was a completely different color than the rest of his body, sporting a strange darker shade of lilac.

“Scars don’t bother me. As long as my body works, it can look however it wants,” the dragon replied and tried moving his arm around, which proved to be still quite painful.

[That might take some more time,] the healer quickly warned him after he heard the dragon’s painful hiss. “You may stay here if you wish. With a roof over your head and enough time to properly heal," he offered his house to the elf and his newfound companions.

“No. We go. I will heal along the way. Or more people will come,” the dragon replied.

“That’s a good point. If anyone else would come for them, it would make you a target,” Glavas said to the healer. “I don’t want to be responsible for that. Surdi, if you can walk, we can hit the road. I have a destination picked out for us. So as long as you and Alma are ready…”

The dragon did a slight hop on his feet to show that the injury was truly not a problem anymore. Alma didn’t respond verbally either and only saluted.

“Alright. Let’s head out. We have a long road ahead.”

The hunter gave his goodbye to everyone and left almost immediately after. Clive took some time with his paperwork, writing an official report regarding the incident with Peldo, before finally hiring a cart and riding off back towards Cronden. That night, the entire Old Burrow slept peacefully, knowing that the man behind the murder was caught and got what he deserved. Everything was returning to its usual order.

Right as the clock was about to hit midnight, two insect-like legs could be seen crouching on the hill outside of the village. The creature they belonged to was investigating the area. All the numerous, unevenly placed, red eyes, shining from within the darkness of his hood were dancing around the place, spotting each and every detail of the place. They were mostly interested in the ruined warehouse.

“Hmm… I liked Peldo. He… tsk tsk, made a big mistake. Good riddance… probably. Tsk tsk.” The creature reached into the pocket of its trousers. Its hands were just as inhuman as its other limbs. They pulled out a small rock with a blue rune engraved into it.

“Find some survivors. Whoever killed Peldo… tsk tsk, I want to meet personally,” they spoke into the stone.

A few seconds later, a response came back: “As you wish. I shall gather some people and send them off immediately. Take care, master Ruundanedai.”