The bag of coins dropped onto the mayor's desk with a clinking thud. Marschal watched as the mayor's eyes shifted between Juren and the bag of money on his fine desk.

"For your services," said Juren.

Marschal stood not too far behind his friend, studying the mayor's office in boredom. Aside from the morning sunlight slanting its way through the window, the room seemed no different from when he was last there pretending to be bought. It was also a tad warmer than before though Marschal attributed that to a nice good sleep far from any rugged forest floor.

He also noticed the easy and comforting atmosphere enveloping not only the building but the town as well. The recent news of Kollo's death was received by the townspeople with wide-eyed disbelief at first. But it didn't take long before the residents of the town accepted that truth with a quiet calm comparable to a breath of relief.

However, there were some who were skeptical of that peace.

"So," said the mayor, "Is he really...dead?"

Juren answered with a nod. "Yes."

The mayor studied Juren's face for a bit before eventually leaning back in his large quaint chair. He then expelled a deep breath. "I...I can't believe it. You really killed Kollo...What about his men?"

"They won't be a problem. So, we're leaving now."

"So soon?"

"We have our own lives in our own towns...Or what's left of them."

"Oh...okay."

An awkward silence permeated the room before Juren continued.

"...Okay. We'll be heading off then."

Juren then looked over his shoulder and gestured to Marschal, signalling an end to the meeting. With that, they both moved away from the desk and headed for the exit. But before they could reach the door, Marschal and Juren slowed then stopped as a soft sobbing sound reached their ears.

When they turned around to face the mayor, Marschal was taken aback by the beaming smile on the round man's face and the trailing tears glazing his cheeks. It took a while for Marschal to realize that the mayor's shoulders were bobbing up and down because he was laughing.

The mayor giggled and cried simultaneously as he spoke. "I still can't believe it. After all these years...We're finally free."

He then gazed up at Juren and Marschal with eyes that held a pious admiration that made the Paravellan uncomfortable.

"When Kollo first came to this town," the mayor continued, "we resisted at first. But that didn't last long." He shook his head as he looked down at his fidgeting fingers. "I always kept thinking that one day it would all be different. That everything would just change...But I lost that hope long ago..."

The mayor then lifted his head up to face Juren and Marschal with tear-soaked eyes. "And then you came along."

Partially moved by the mayor's gratitude, Marschal approached Juren to whisper in his ear. "Can we go now?"

"Thank you," the mayor said with a wide smile on a face glistening with tears and snot.

When Juren didn't respond straight away, Marschal turned to him to see a blank expression on his face. What was he thinking about? Before Marschal could ask, a forced smile suddenly appeared on Juren's face as he met the mayor's eyes.

"It was nothing," Juren finally replied.

He then turned around and walked out the doorway of the mayor's office.

Marschal stood there awkwardly for a moment and glanced at the mayor's face, still drenched and smiling. The Paravellan then offered the mayor a nod before following after Juren through the office doorway.

***

The early morning sun was still climbing up the sky, illuminating the verdant hills surrounding the town and the river beside it. Juren and Marschal sat up on horseback and gazed down the hill as their friends departed from the town in a large exodus. Now accomplices to murder, Marschal watched as the group trailed up the hill and over the other side.

"I can't say I'll miss this place," Marschal mused.

A taciturn silence followed the remark, prompting Marschal to glance at Juren from the corner of his eye. Like in the mayor's office, Juren stared blankly ahead as his face froze in a look devoid of expression.

"Juren?"

The sound of his own name suddenly jolted Juren from his thoughtful stupor. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?"

Juren nodded, "Yes."

"...Okay."

With nothing more to add, they both fell silent and continued to watch the crowd make their way up and over the hill. However, the more the silence lengthened the more uncomfortable Marschal felt.

"If I had known that only three of Kollo's men would have survived we wouldn't have needed all these people here. We were expecting an army. It's nice to see that war elves are useful for something."

"...I suppose," Juren replied.

Marschal glanced at him again. "Are you sure you're okay? You haven't spoken much since last night. Is there something you want to talk-"

"I said I'm fine."

Juren then tugged on the reins of his horse and guided it away from Marschal and towards the moving crowd. Now alone, the Paravellan watched his friend ride over the hillside, distancing himself from the town where Kollo and his son died.

***

Everyone had made camp and was now asleep.

Marschal laid on top of a blanket, gazing up at the star-dotted sky through the swaying treetops. The woods around him were packed with sleeping villagers exhausted from their journey. Most of the adults slept on the ground while the elderly and some of the younger ones spent the night on carts and wagons. As time passed, Marschal struggled to fall asleep as the snores around him blended with the soft hushes of the woodland breeze. A soothing sound that warred with the chill biting into his skin through his clothes. Despite this, Marschal was able to drift closer to sleep with his eyelids growing heavy and beginning to droop.

That was when he heard a slight rustling sound from the nearby bush. Marschal slowly stirred and glanced into the woods for the source of the rustling. He squinted into the darkness, searching for whatever caused the sound. But after a while he was only greeted by an empty and still silence. Perhaps it was nothing. Disregarding the noise for the scurrying of rabbits, Marschal eventually tore his eyes away from the woods and attempted to go back to sleep.

However, his eyes barely closed before the bushes rustled again.

At first, Marschal refused to abandon his sleep but he eventually yielded to the urge to uncover the little rustler. He slowly pulled himself up from the ground and started heading towards the bushes at the edge of the camp. On his way there, Marschal was forced to tip-toe around the sleeping bodies beneath him.

When he reached the source of the sound, he didn't have to stand there for very long before the bushes rustled again. Prompted by his curiosity, Marschal bent down and began to cautiously shift through the twigs and leaves with his hands.

He saw nothing.

Marschal lowered his head further to peer into the shrub. But he still saw nothing but leaves and darkness.

Just as he was about to move away from the bush, a flicker of movement suddenly caught the corner of Marschal's eye. He once more leaned closer into the shrub with the hopes of glimpsing whatever was in there.

As soon as his eyes squinted into the shrubbery, a pair of blood-red eyes glared back up at him.

Before he had the chance to flee, a war elf quickly lunged out from the bushes and pounced onto Marschal.

Caelius jumped back with a yelp and crawled away from the snarling war elf. He never stopped moving until his back hit the wall opposite the elven girl. Stunned with fright, the young Paravellan watched the little war elf growl and writhe in the chains shackling her to the stone floor.

When he first heard of the war elf in the dungeons, Caelius thought it an opportunity he couldn't miss. The closest thing resembling an adventure in the humdrum of palace life. He had ventured into the dungeons multiple times in the past despite the warnings from his brother and parents.

But never during the night.

So, when he did eventually reach the elf's cell, he was surprised when his survival instincts began to compel his limbs to flee from the ominous maw of the dungeon entrance. However, after sneaking past the guards to steal their keys and the manifest, Caelius concluded that it would have been a waste of time if he went back now. Then he delved into the cell against his better judgement.

It wasn't until now, after almost having his face torn off by a savage elfling, did he begin to regret his thrilling excursion.

He knew he was surrounded by stone walls yet his eyes saw nothing but an infinite darkness threatening to consume the lantern's flame on the floor. As tempting as it was to leap away from the ocean of black and into the lantern's light, to do so would have been to edge himself closer towards the war elf's fangs. Between the darkness or the elf girl, Caelius opted for the former over the latter. Now he was forced to tremble in fear in the shadows, watching the elf rattling her chains while she glared into the curtain of black. Could she still see him?

Caelius was then suddenly jolted from his paralytic fright as he heard voices from outside the prison cell. Prodded by the fear of being discovered, Caelius threw caution to the wind while he scurried across the dungeon floor to reach the lantern. As soon as he grabbed it and blew the flame out, he found himself bolting just as quickly to the far corner of the room after hearing the elf's teeth snap shut near his face. After he was certain that he was out of sight, Caelius quietly settled himself into place and tried to shake off his near death experience before resorting to fidgeting with his fingers.

Then another lantern light gleamed through the cell gate followed by two voices whispering among themselves. Caelius could also hear a jangle of keys. Keys? He never knew they had spare keys although after thinking to himself, he supposed it made sense.

When the gate finally opened, two guards walked in and wasted no time approaching the center of the cell. The savage war elf continued to struggle in her constraints before looking up at one of the guards. She glared up at her captors and offered them an ear-splitting roar that echoed off the stone walls. A terrifying display of ferocity were it not for the abrupt slap across the elf girl's cheek, sending her flying back and falling to the ground.

"Filthy thing," said the elf striker, "Almost bit me."

"You sure about this?" the other younger guard asked.

"Don't go soft on me, boy. This needs doing."

"She's just a child."

As if to contradict his words, the little war elf lunged up at the guards again only to be rebuffed by her chains. The guards flinched back before her shackles dragged her back to the cold hard floor. With the elf girl groaning and snarling on the ground, the guards quickly recovered their composure in front of the little beast.

"Child?" The single word was laced with the older guard's seething tone. "That is no child."

The elf responded with a hiss through her teeth.

"It's a monster." The older guard glared at the elfling while he proceeded to pull a knife from his belt. His younger partner noticed the blade in his hand and shook his head.

"No." The younger guard took a step back. "I-I don't like this. She's just a little girl."

The older guard offered his partner a hard stare and took a step towards him. Then he held up his blade, causing the young man to take several steps back. However, the old man quickly grabbed his partner's collar and roughly pressed the blade up against the young man's cheek.

"Have you forgotten what they've done?" the older guard growled. "Have you forgotten why we're here?"

Caelius saw the younger guard hang his head.

"You know I'm right," the older man continued, "They're not human. They're animals. Nothing but beasts that need to be slaughtered."

The younger guard's eyes still remained glued to the stone floor beneath his feet.

After staring at his junior with sympathetic eyes, the older guard then decided to offer up his blade to the young man, hilt first. The younger guard shifted his gaze to the knife and held it there as if contemplating an important decision. Or resisting it. Eventually, he took the blade from his senior with a reluctant hand before accompanying the older guard back towards the little war elf.

On their approach, the elf girl snarled and hissed as she crawled back from the pair of guards. However, she could only move so far in her chains. When their shadows loomed over the savage elfling, she defiantly glared up at them. The young guard returned her hateful eyes with a sorrowful expression.

"I'm sorry," the young guard apologized. "I really am."

The junior's guilt-ridden eyes never changed. Even when he raised the blade above the savage elf child, ready to strike.

"Sorry for what?"

No one in the room noticed his presence. Especially the guards.

They both stumbled and whipped around to see Caelius' brother, Camren, standing by the cell entrance, glaring coldly at them.