[William]

Upon their return, they found Stella awaiting them along with the villagers, making up a heavy crowd. Among the line-ups, William spotted that certain villager, the daughter he pleaded them to rescue perched on his shoulders. His eyes shone with gratitude, to which William acknowledged with a nod.

The return to the village head’s residence was one filled with cheer. The villagers escorted them up until reaching the residence’s gates, calling out for them in thanks and praises.

It was with that same shining eyes that the village head received them. “You have our eternal gratitude and appreciation.”

“What are you going to do with the bandits we captured?” Yonten asked in reply.

It took the village head a moment to recover from the shift in the topic. “We’ll hand them to the Royal Knights of Cora Town.”

William noted how visibly disappointed Yonten looked at that response.

The arrival of one of the residence’s attendants took the village head from their side, and the moment he left the room, Stella pointed at the blunderbuss in Jehona’s possession. “What is this?”

“A blunderbuss.”

“And why do you have it?”

Either Jehona reveled in their distress, or she was entirely oblivious to it. “It could be useful.”

Stella sent him and Yonten a look so scathing it actually managed to mar the softness of her features. It spoke of immense disappointment for letting such a disastrous combination come into existence.

“Have some faith,” Yonten whispered behind Jehona’s back, earning him mystified stares from William and Stella.

Could it be that Yonten of all people had faith in Jehona’s abilities? Did he glimpse into something they couldn’t detec—

“She probably wouldn’t be able to release a single shot, so I’d wager for our safety from any unfortunate accidents.”

Never mind.

Come next morning, the village head’s residence buzzed with visitors, all expressing gratitude with offerings of fruits.

“Once denied from, now given with a whole heart,” Yonten mused as he stuffed his mouth with a concerning number of orange slices. William watched the spectacle he made of himself in his struggles to swallow that load of citrus. Once he did, he sighed pretentiously, as if the embarrassment William witnessed never happened. “Such is life…”

Beside him and opposite of that display, Stella cut apples into delicately shaped slices, while Jehona arranged a pile of peaches in a manner that could be generously described as artistic.

William took one of the slices Stella cut and found the taste to be exquisite. Whether it was due to the apple itself or the fact that it reminded him of a childhood memory…

It didn’t matter in the end.

On the night of their departure, they came to know of yet another obstacle in their path to Aslan Town.

In the pursuit of complete control over Dokka, the invading bandits destroyed the stone bridge connecting the Southern settlements to Aslan. It would take months and resources neither the settlements nor Aslan could currently give to establish it anew.

With the map stretched across a wide table, the four of them exchanged ideas.

“Can you channel something we could use?” Stella asked Yonten.

“I hate to disappoint you, but I can’t afford to expend energy like last night so soon.”

“Why don’t we take a path across Oak Woods?” William suggested, tracing the path on the map for emphasis. From what he could see, traversing through Oak Woods would get them to Aslan Town in less time than it would take by the bridge.

So why wasn’t that an option?

“No one returns from there,” was the village head’s explanation next morning, distressed at their intention to take that path. “It became common sense to just avoid traversing through it.”

“The Woods are haunted, I tell you!” a villager piped up.

Another one immediately added on, “Only killers go there to get rid of corpses!”

“How do you even know that?!” inquired a third in alarm.

“We don’t have much choice now, do we?” Stella said, and the villagers’ voices lowered.

Even if they returned to Cora and took the road from it to Aslan, they would still face the same dilemma.

“Frankly, I’m looking forward to what these haunted Woods have in store for us.” That remark from Yonten earned him the odd look of everyone present.

“I thought you advocated for cautious approaches,” William had to say, confused.

“I’m following your lead.” Yonten might’ve had a big smile, but William sensed a slight bitterness in it.

“I’ll take him out if he gets possessed,” Jehona assured.

That benevolence struck William speechless, while Stella pretended she never heard a thing.

Yonten, however, was quick to return, “No one asked.”

Perhaps too concerned to let them depart without knowing everything they could about Oak Woods, Dokka’s village head told them an account of both fact and rumor.

Oak Woods used to be a barren land in a time forgotten, one used for burials. Aside from unmarked graves, its only distinguishing feature was a thin sapling. Overnight, the sapling grew into a massive Oak tree, and the barren land turned green. They named the Woods after the Oak tree at its center, and for some time, for some people, it worked as it once did.

As the years passed, however, tales of missing people arose in the area, their last known whereabouts being the Oak Woods. Many went into them to search, but they never returned. Thus slowly, the Woods were forsaken.

Some speculated it was due to angry spirits, while others thought it to be the work of unknown and hostile parties taking residence in the area.

At any rate, Oak Woods was a place no person seeking their well-being would willingly enter.

Loaded with as much supplies and fruit they could feasibly carry, the four of them departed from Dokka after paying its residents their farewells.

It was overwhelming the sendoff they received, the entire village booming with sound, wishes of good fortune mixed into simple but heartfelt odes.

Even after Dokka became a faded line in the horizon behind them, those calls rang and echoed in William’s ears.

[Jehona]

They reached Oak Woods close to nightfall.

In the dimming light, the Woods loomed over them. The trees extended without end, their branches entangled with each other in a mockery of a ceiling.

It would be madness to attempt crossing these Woods at this time, so in a unanimous agreement, they opted to set camp for the night right at the Woods’ outermost margin.

In the night, the Woods fell into timeless silence. Some would describe that silence as tranquil, while others would think of it as eerie. For Jehona, it had her anxious.

She hated the Woods. Hated its calm, its darkness, and even more, she hated her reaction to the memories being in such a place forced to the surface.

It was that fit of distress that robbed Jehona of sleep tonight, listening as her companions succumbed to slumber.

Well, save for one.

At this point, Jehona welcomed any distraction from her thoughts, even if it meant initiating a conversation with Suspicious One, “Why are you not sleeping?”

“How did you tell?” came Suspicious One’s voice, in that signature cheery ridicule of his. “It’s pitch black.”

True, the dark was a massive hindrance to her sight, but Jehona could still discern the movement of shadows, the shifting of figures. Couple that with this silence that amplified the effect of any sound, it wouldn’t be difficult to tell.

However, instead of explaining that, Jehona opted for the petty approach: “You snore in your sleep.”

“I don’t snore,” was the immediate and expected defense.

“How can you be so sure? You’re sleeping, after all.”

“No one complained about it.”

“Perhaps they’re being courteous.”

“And you’re being the opposite of that, I assume?”

“I’m being honest.” She wasn’t.

Suspicious One let out a laugh. “I find that very hard to believe.”

“Suit yourself, but I recommend you fix that problem of yours before pursuing any woman of considerable wealth.”

“My charm will be sufficient to compensate for any shortcomings of mine, imagined or factual.”

The man had a strong sense of self-assuredness, Jehona had to give him that.

For a while afterwards, they fell into silence, both awake. This time around, Jehona started out of actual curiosity about a detail she noticed from the very beginning, “Where are you from?”

“Why do you ask?” Interestingly enough, Jehona detected a hint of guard in Suspicious One’s tone.

“Like William, your Central has a distinct accent to it, but I can’t trace it to any of the three Elemental languages of this continent.”

Suspicious One’s doubt was palpable. “And how many Elemental languages do you speak?”

“Four,” she answered, unconcerned about his doubts. “Solaric, Terran, and Aqualian. My Ignish is acceptable.”

“You speak Solaric?” The disinterest and doubt vanished from Suspicious One’s voice at that, replaced by urgency.

“Yes?” While Jehona couldn’t decipher anything that would provoke a sense of urgency in what she said, she could understand the surprise.

Of the six Elemental languages, only Terran, Ignish, and Aqaulian were the most common at the current time, so much so that they became the basis in forming the Central language spoken in all the different parts of the world.

Lunarian speakers were few in number and fewer in fluency, while Aerus was a lost language. As for Solaric, it occupied an interesting position. It belonged to one of the most powerful nations in the Elemental Prime era, but dynasty decline and political strife turned the language from common to forbidden in the lands it originated from. Many families fled from the conflict at the time, and Jehona’s paternal grandmother hailed from one of them.

Her grandmother taught her father, and her father taught her.

“You know what they say about Solaric?” Suspicious One asked. He sounded rather pleased.

“What?”

“If you speak Solaric, you speak half of Aerus.”

She never heard of that sort of thing before. “That’s interesting, I suppose.”

It was with an outright delight that Suspicious One corrected her, “No, that’s fortunate.”

“What do you mean?”

He didn’t answer. In a miraculous feat, Jehona heard his breathing settle into slumbering calm, leaving her the only one awake.

[Yonten]

The moment they started traversing the Woods, Yonten felt something amiss, and that feeling condensed in a foreboding rate. It saturated the air, layering an ethereal burn along every breath he took.

Since young, Yonten had been attuned to the energy of the Elements. From a mere spark to a spectacular blaze, he could sense it all.

The Woods thrummed with Elemental energy, the power of which had Yonten’s thoughts spinning, linking the tales told in Dokka to what he experienced now—what he experienced long ago in a chance encounter. Those thoughts of his had a single conclusion, and fueled by it, he told his companions, “We need to get out of here right now.”

It wasn’t vengeful ghosts that resided in Oak Woods.

It was a Bestowed Beast.