“Okay, let's try again,” Talion said, getting into position. “Third time’s the charm.”

Nalia flexed her tail upwards. It wrapped around the dirt-covered apple that sat on the market stall. The stall owner, with nothing better to do, watched intently, wondering if they would actually be able to do it.

“Wasn’t that our fifth try?” Nalia asked.

“This will be your ninth,” the stall owner corrected.

Nalia squeezed the apple tighter with her tail.

“Okay. One… Two… Three…” On the count of three, Nalia’s tail pulled back and flung forward. The apple soared a few feet mid-air.

Talion reached out, catching the apple with one hand.

“Hey!” he smiled.

Nalia smirked. Talion put the apple back down.

“I think that archery competition is starting soon,” Talion stated. “Wanna come watch?”

“Sure, but I need to check if there’s any place that sells shoes around here. My boots are a few more sharp rocks away from coming apart.”

“Meet you there?”

“Meet you there,” she affirmed.

The cobbler’s store wasn’t too hard to find. At least, Nalia assumed the store with the sign of a painted shoe was the cobbler’s. The inside was bigger than what it looked on the outside. Countless shoes of different sizes, shapes, and colors lined the walls, all of which stood on shelves. Nalia’s eyes instantly locked on a pair of boots. Underneath it was a slip of paper, with the words “2 gold” written on it.

“Like what you see?” asked a voice behind her.

Nalia turned around. It was a man standing behind a counter.

“Looks better than anything I’ve worn in a long while,” she admitted.

She took them both in hand and walked to the counter.

“2 gold, please,” he said.

Talia dug out her coin purse from her cloak.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“Here and there,” she answered. “Nowhere important enough to mention.”

It was only then as Nalia gave the man the platinum piece did she get a good look at him. His grayish hair and barely noticeable wrinkles told her that he was probably in his fifties. What stood out to her the most, though, was the amulet hanging around his neck. It was a symbol. It looked… Familiar. That’s when it clicked in her head: it was a Star of Chaos.

“You were a priest?” Nalia asked.

“Even better: a paladin. Long since retired, of course.”

“Former paladin? Here? Hard to imagine.”

“This place is my hometown. It may be small, but… It’s peaceful and stress-free here, two things that are basically irresistible to paladins. Safe from the war here, too, so that’s a huge bonus.”

The cobbler took the coins, leaned down, and dug around underneath.

“Sorry… I’m usually more organized than this.”

“Was it interesting? Being a paladin, I mean.”

“For sure,” he answered. “Had my fair share of fun, but nothing too glamorous. That’s to be expected, I guess. But it was an honor, ya know? Serving not just a god, but the god.”

“I can certainly guess. Not every day does someone come across a paladin or priest.”

“Not in this town, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’d be hard-pressed not to find a priest here. Direwood is like a holy site to most people. Any religious figure would do anything to live here. After all, Emperor Ari was born here. You can still find his house not too far away. And you know that fort down the way? That’s the exact fort he and his army stayed at during the Akrathi War.”

“Well then, I’m surprised Direwood isn’t more crowded.”

“Thank gods it isn’t. It’s small, tucked away, barely any loud tourists coming around. No one here finds a problem with it, and if they do, send ‘em to me.”

The cobbler gave Nalia her money. “Feel free to sit down and put them on.”

She sat down on the stool behind her, taking off the rags that barely passed for boots anymore.

“How many other priests are here?” Nalia asked.

“Besides the ones that come around here every so often? Well, there’s one of Death’s priests working down at the cemetery. A retired cleric of Mara who still serves as the “town healer,” - though I’m positive she’s never been paid, and another priest of Mara who works at Her temple. The town’s scribe used to be a Keeper at that massive library down at the capital. And of course, there’s me and my wife - who used to be a priest of Chaos.”

Nalia’s new boots fit her perfectly. She stood up, taking her old ones in hand. The cobbler grimaced, though a tiny bit, at the sight of the ruined straps.

“Come around again,” he said.

Nalia thought about setting her old boots on fire the moment she stepped outside. Instead, she was forced to carry them around until she could find a place to throw them away.

All Nalia had to do was follow the noise to locate where the competition was taking place. She scanned the crowd, trying to figure out where Talion was. Shimmering through the crowd, she muttered excuse me and sorry a few times to the people she accidentally bumped into. Suddenly, she felt a hand tapping on her shoulder.

“Right here,” Talion said behind her. Nalia could just barely hear him over the crowd.

“Oh, hey.”

“Nice boots.”

“Thanks. Believe it or not, the cobbler used to be a paladin.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Nalia continued, “apparently this whole town is full of priests, former and current.”

“Why here?”

“Direwood has some kind of significance. Or at least that’s what I was told. Emperor Ari was born here. But that’s not all: that old fort we’re staying at was where he and his army stayed at during the Akrathi War.”

Nalia and Talion squeezed their way to the front of the crowd.

“Okay, so you’re not gonna believe this,” Talion said.

“What?”

“Reiha made it to the last round.”

“She’s in the competition?” asked Nalia.

“Yeah, surprised me too. She’s doing really good, though.”

“How much time’s left in the round?”

“Two-ish minutes. You didn’t miss much.”

Nalia scanned the contestants. Reiha was easy enough to spot. Not because she’s the only dark elf around, but because she was the only one with her hood on. She watched as Reiha shot arrow after arrow in succession. Each arrow wheezed through the air, hitting almost dead center on the target.

The minutes ticked by one by one. The sounds of horns filled the air, marking the end of the final round.