North. Just north. That had been the direction she'd steadily held since leaving home. The only thought in her mind was to get as far away from Ashfallow's hold as she could. Only a few hours earlier had she passed where just a few years ago she would've found the Norvarian border. Less than a mile or so down the hill lay a city Yara knew as Nordkrysset, though at this point it'd been part of Anglavar for so long it might've had a different name. She felt numb as she approached the city. Everything around her seemed grey and dulled out, the skies were covered in dark clouds, and the street lanterns that were supposed to light her way into town were either unlit, broken, or did barely anything to illuminate the road. A thin layer of freshly fallen snow covered the roofs and the street, that much she could see.

The self-exiled knight looked around further. She knew a little of this place already, but felt the need to learn more about what little of her surroundings she could see. Yara kept her head hung low the entire time, not seeing a reason to raise it and look up. The houses surrounding the street were tall, and most of them were connected in a long row along the road. Some even looked haphazardly stacked atop one another. Not too far away was a tall, cathedral-esque Pantheon to the Saints, which stood in massive disrepair. Despite the damage it was clear as day that it was inspired by the Alamirian cathedral in Laketon, with its tall spires and countless buttresses. Amongst the dull greys and dead trees that seemingly made up the entire town was a single spot of colour. One solitary building on the corner of a street: A pub. As if that, a place where she could drink herself stupid, was the only thing that could draw her attention from the grim world around her. she immediately focused on it. The front of the establishment had been painted red, which made sure it'd stand out in a sea of otherwise dull greys and blacks.

Yara nearly jumped out of her saddle when she reached a hitching post and trough opposite to the pub. She looked into the water, where in her slightly distorted reflection she could see the heavy bags under her eyes. That was the first time she'd seen them. The result of going on horseback for three whole days without a night's sleep. They were dark and grey, and simply looking at them made her feel tired. When she turned around and walked in the direction of the pub's front door three men burst out onto the street. The two largest men forced a smaller one outside. The sudden burst of motion frightened Yara, and in a moment of instinctual movement she reached for Skycleave, her hand-and-a-half sword.

'We mean it, stay out this time,' one of the larger men said, 'Erik doesn't want you poking around this place any more from now on.'

'Got that?' The other large man said, the man they'd just forced out only nodded. Yara couldn't see his face but assumed he had a look of pure terror painted onto it. The two men that pushed him out then turned around and went back inside, one after the other. It didn't look like they'd both fit through the same door had they gone simultaneously. Yara was about to follow them in and walk past whoever they forced to leave when he grabbed her arm with a near iron grip. A second time she reached for her sword.

'Let go,' She commanded, her tone dripping with contempt, 'now.'

The man did as she asked and stuck his hands up in a gesture of surrender. He didn't look like he was surrendering though, 'I'm sorry,' he replied, there was a smirk firmly planted on his narrow, angular face, 'the name's Erryn, I was wondering if you could help me get back inside.'

Erryn was quite a bit taller than Yara. Two heads taller, in fact. He had short blond hair, a straight jaw and his smooth tone of voice must've been like honey to most women he talked to. That's why it was maybe a bit unfortunate for him that he was talking to the one woman on who flirtations and subtleties would go to waste. Especially now.

'Didn't they tell you to never come back?'

'Well yes but-.'

'No,' Yara wanted to keep walking, but he stopped her again.

'Now hold on,' said Erryn, 'I could make it up to you,' though he didn't physically gesture at it, even Yara could tell what he was referring to. She looked him up and down with her tired eyes and replied without even a moment of consideration.

'No,' her gaze met his for a second. Her face locked in a glare now.

'I'll pay you to get me in.'

That was a more appealing offer, and one she could agree with.

'You owe me every drink I buy tonight, and I do really mean every single one of them,' she said to him before jerking her head towards the door, 'hurry up, not going to wait all night.'

Yara entered the pub. Unfortunately the inside of the building wasn't as colourful as the outside, once again everything was drab and grey, even the fire that roared in the small fireplace appeared without colour. Some patrons were playing cards or simply drinking their fill at the small round tables. Yara stepped toward the bar. She assumed the barman was named Erik from the conversation she overheard outside.

'You, Get out,' Erik said, at first Yara thought he was pointing at her, though she quickly realized he was actually directing his words at Erryn. The man she'd brought in as a guest sat down next to her.

'This lady here let me in,' he put a hand on her shoulder, 'she was kind enough to be my...' he'd missed it when looking at her before, but there was no missing it in the light of the tavern. She was donned in armour. One pauldron, the one on the right, larger than the other. Decorated with an engraved dragon holding a sword. Realising the order she was from, he reconsidered his next words, 'my uh... protector for the night.'

'I don't care if she's your mother you can-,'

'I'm not your anything,' muttered Yara, 'you're paying for my drinks, I don't know why you wanted to be back inside so badly,' she hadn't intended to interrupt anyone, it just kind of happened.

'You heard her. Get out,' said the barkeep, who she assumed to be the pub's owner, 's'far as I'm concerned, you can pay up front and get out.'

'his condition for paying was that I got him back in...'

The owner also noticed the crest on Yara's pauldron. The one used by the Knights of Ash. He attempted to look her in the eyes, but every attempt failed. The moment he'd get close to succeeding she'd notice and look away, 'he can stay then, just... keep an eye on your glass.'

'don't worry about that, it'll be empty before I put it down.'

The barkeep blinked in surprise, 'or you do that. Were you looking for anything specific?'

'Do I look like I care? just help me pass out,' her façade broke just a tiny bit, a little waver in her voice gave away how she felt. She wasn't sure whether the barkeep noticed it, but he did. He took note of her request but even Yara could tell his behaviour changed a little. Something about how he moved. With more consideration. Almost like a concerned, caring parent. Yara pointed him to one of the larger glasses. A pint glass. Erryn snorted a laugh and made a quiet comment about size. Yara rolled her eyes as she eagerly awaited whatever the barkeep would get her.

'So where are you from?' Erryn wanted to attempt to prod at her, to see if he could break through. He couldn't.

'I'm not here to talk,' she was tired and done with pretty much everything. Talking to this random man who wouldn't leave her alone wouldn't help.

'Rightly so,' said Erik as he shot daggers at Erryn, 'you shouldn't have to talk if you don't want to,'

She appreciated that acceptance from him. It was something she'd never pass up.

'Judging by that sigil you're a long way from home,' said Erryn whilst he eyed her up.

'I've been riding for three days without stopping.'

'Must be lonely,' Erryn said, staring at her with an uncomfortable amount of glee on his face.

'Keep going and I'll throw you out myself,' snapped Yara. 'You don't look that heavy anyway, I've seen skeletons with more muscles than you.'

'You should calm down. Relax a bit maybe,' he responded and put his hand on her shoulder again, 'I can hel-.'

'Touch me again and I'll break your wrist with my bare fucking hands.'

The two larger men from before turned their heads to look at the bar and a few of the other patrons looked up from their goings-on to see what was happening. It's likely the two bouncers were more focused on Yara than the man she'd just threatened.

'Alright...' he pulled his hand away, 'saints woman...' the man sighed. Yara gladly accepted the pintglass Erik handed her and put it to her lips.

'Who died?' he asked mockingly, 'your mood is saints-awful.'

Yara nearly choked on her drink. His comment made her spit out what she'd already drank and cough up the rest, 'excuse me?' she asked furiously once she recovered.

'Well I mean... I,' he hadn't prepared a response.

'You mean what? that you can't handle someone making it very clear they're not interested?' Yara got up and grabbed him by his collar before putting him up against one of the support beams. The fact that he was much taller than her didn't seem to matter, he was up against the wall either way. His feet dangled slightly above the ground.

'I told you to stop, is it too much to ask that you take the fucking hint?' she looked down and then back at his face. A drop of sweat ran down its side, 'let's see if you'll take this one,' she then kneed him in the crotch and dropped him on the ground. He squealed in pain as he hit the floorboards, where he'd lay gasping for air until the two men that'd thrown Erryn out before got between them.

'You've made your point, we'll take him outside again.'

'Erik'll decide what to do with you.'

Yara panted. She looked at the barkeep, who seemed slightly astonished. He didn't appear to be all that opposed to how she handled the situation however.

'I'm going to need extra.'

* * *

The next morning she woke up in a small room. Her head pounding from a hangover. She'd been sleeping on a couch. At the bit of said couch that she'd rested her feet on was a slightly askew door. Yara sat up quickly. She was still fully dressed, only without the armour she'd worn the night before.

'Hello?' She called a little worriedly. A moment later a girl not much younger than herself entered the room.

'Morni- I mean afternoon,' the girl answered with a calm smile.

'Where am I?' Yara groaned.

'Still in the tavern, just the back end of it.'

The huntress put a hand to her head, 'eugh... How did I-.'

'Father brought you here after you had too much and nearly passed out, he didn't feel you were safe in the front.'

'Your father is... Erik... right? The owner?' Yara asked quietly. Normally her heightened senses would be a boon, however a hangover turned them into quite the burden.

'Yes.'

'Can you... get him for me?'

The girl nodded and left the room. The barkeep from the night before - a man about Yara's height with a balding head - walked in. She hadn't really taken in how he looked the previous evening.

'I'm not entirely sure about what happened last night...' she said a little apologetically, 'sorry if I caused any ruckus.'

'It's okay,' Erik laughed, 'All you did was nearly castrate the local womanizer.'

'That's not bad... is it?'

'Quite the opposite. He's definitely not coming back here now,' Erik chuckled, 'come, we saved you some breakfast.'

'I should really be going.'

'Nonsense, you should eat,' he helped her up, 'how else are you going to pin ruffians up against the wall? you've got to keep up that strength!' Erik led her out of the room and towards the kitchen. The dining table was simple, No cloth over it.

'Unfortunately we only have porridge at the moment, all else is reserved for the tavern,' the barkeep said.

'Oats are fine thanks,' she sat down, 'do you have any bread?'

Erik's daughter nodded before she took some bread from the pantry. Yara thanked her and began to eat when her host filled up the bowl she'd been provided.

'It's good!' she said after tasting the food. Erik's daughter beamed with pride and thanked her.

'You said I nearly castrated... Erryn was his name?' asked Yara after she swallowed her food, 'I only remember kicking him, I think.'

'After you had a bit more you saw him near your horse through the window,' answered Erik, 'Johann and Thomas almost couldn't stop you, because before any of us knew you'd burst out the door with your sword at the ready to cut him into tiny pieces.'

Yara looked down.

'I'm sorry for the trouble,' she wanted to get up, to get out of the way of these people who were being way nicer to her than she deserved.

'It's fine really,' the barkeep answered. He motioned to her that she could stay, 'he wouldn't stop bothering my daughter, now I think he'll leave us alone. For a while, anyhow,' Erik laughed, but his guest didn't, 'you said you'd been on the road for three days, right?'

'Something happened at home, I...' she stopped herself.

'She doesn't want to talk about it, father,' Erik's daughter intervened before he could ask any further. Yara threw her a quick glance meant as thanks for her interruption.

'I should go again... I don't think I should stay in this town for long,' now she actually got up, 'where can I find my armour?'

'You took it off and left it in the room you slept in, surprised you didn't stumble over it.'

She walked back, saw it strewn across the floor, and spent a good chunk of time putting it on and making sure it was secure. When Yara walked out of the house and into the cold Norvarian afternoon she looked around. Everything was still bleak and grey, not even the near open skies that let through the sun's warm rays could clear the depressing atmosphere. She looked toward the tall spire from the cathedral. Even in broad daylight it continued to send shivers down her spine. She could tell there was something wrong in this town, though it wouldn't take a genius to figure that out. Erik had followed her outside.

'What's with the church?' Yara pointed towards the bell tower once she'd noticed him.

'That thing? Nobody visits there anymore.'

'There's something off about it.'

'And how, we didn't stop going for no reason,' said Erik, 'things began to happen in the graveyard and it scared everyone away.'

'Things?'

'Uh... how do I explain this without sounding insane,' he scratched behind his ear.

'I've probably heard worse, I don't think it'd sound that insane.'

'Well, no getting around it: graves have been dug up and corpses were found torn to bits the last time anyone went to that side of the city.'

Yara looked at him with an eyebrow raised. she wasn't quite sure why he thought that'd make him sound insane

'Sounds like some sort of corpse-eater,' she replied, 'A guard should be able to solve that, don't need me or a professional monster hunter for that.'

'You're equipped for it either way, aren't you?' he asked, 'besides, the guards aren't too keen on taking a look themselves and that's scared off everyone else.'

Yara thought it over, though it wasn't like it took her long to make a decision, right now she couldn't care less about possible jeopardy.

'I'll go take a look.'

'Suit yourself, good luck,' said Erik as he watched Yara walk in the direction of the Cathedral District.

The cathedral district was, in a word, empty. Yara hadn't expected that the city could get any more dull than it already was, and yet here it appeared to be even more drab and grey than anywhere else. She'd've been impressed if it didn't make her feel terrible. She'd been in some depressing places in her life, like the castle she grew up in, but nothing quite compared to Nordkrysset's church district. The thin blanket of fog that hung just at street level didn't do much to brighten up the atmosphere either. Doors hung open and the empty houses behind them only emphasised just how lonely this place was. There was something about the district that made the hairs on her neck stand on end, likely because of the corpse-eating creature she expected to find. a good number of the houses had already begun to collapse in their abandonment. Now that she could see the large church before her its state of disrepair was even more obvious. The ruined bell tower was visible throughout the entire city, however the church itself had most definitely seen better days. Some of its flying buttresses had collapsed to the ground. None of the windows had remained in their frames and laid broken on the streets. Both of the front doors had been taken out of their hinges and lay rotting on the ground. Yara stopped directly in front of the church and let out a sigh she'd been holding for a while now. The carvings in the walls were all representative of death. Words in now long-forgotten Virelli described the intent of the building. Before the abandonment of this part of the city someone had painted some words in Southern Norvarian onto it. Most of the markings were crosses, dates, and what she assumed to be names.

Yara put her gloved hand on the cental pillar between where the doors had once been and let out another sigh. She turned around, put her back to the wall, and slid down to sit against it, keeping her knees close to her chest and putting her arms around them. Yara leaned back against the wall. She couldn't cry anymore after her tears had ran out the night before she'd ran away. Instead she broke into quiet sobbing, her head close to her chest. She hadn't had a quiet, resting moment to herself like this since she left. Finally there was nobody else around to bother her about how she felt. Instead she could simply sit alone for a while, whether or not there really was a monster didn't matter all that much.

Then a sound echoed from inside the cathedral. Stones colliding. Almost like several bricks had simply fallen from the ceiling. Yara assumed this wasn't exactly a rare occurrence, so she meant to pay no attention to it, but then the wheezing started. It was faint at first, but she could hear it. Eventually the breathing became more clear, and it overtook the other sounds. Yara pulled herself together as best she could and stood up, after which she walked through the door and into the large hall. The cathedral's gradually collapsing ceiling had opened up holes that let through shining rays of light. She was too late to see the monster she'd heard. All that she managed to catch was a single glimpse of the creature's slender, barbed tail as it climbed over the wall to the outside. Immediately Yara walked back out of the church and onto the adjacent graveyard, still covered in a thin blanket of mist. A large number of graves clogged up the area. Some even shared spaces. As she continued she could see more and more of what she was after. It was a creature with a body not much larger than a horse. Its tail was short and stunted and its wings still retained their elongated fingers, even if the membrane between them was gone. It had a thin, long head placed at the end of a serpentine neck, and its lower jaw was quite a lot shorter than its upper counterpart. Instead most of that length had been replaced by two long, pointed tusks that flattened out near the tip. Its skin was pale, only contrasted by the black spikes and tusks around the head and a spot around where its eyes should have been, where instead there were heavy burn scars. It had words etched into its skin. The creature dug into the graves with its tusks. She'd met similar dragons on the mainland: Sightless. Dragon-prophets of the local faith, though none of the ones she knew looked anything like him. Why this sole individual was so far from the rest of them she didn't know.

'I can hear you, mourning girl,' it spoke with a haunting, deep yet hollow voice, 'the stench of your grief is palpable.'

'Wh-,' Yara interrupted herself, fright preventing her from saying anything more.

'There is no point in denying this truth,' the emaciated dragon said before turning its head to her, 'I can catch the stench of grief from miles away...'

'I- wha- hm,' she couldn't stop stumbling over her own words.

'Speak, share your burden,' the creature said, 'or are you not here to lose that weight?'

'I was expecting to-.'

'To find a creature you could murder to make coin.'

'No I-.'

'I harm no one, I see no reason for why you should harm me.'

'What- no who are you?' she corrected herself quickly. Humanising the creature might actually make it easier for her to communicate with it. Judging by its voice it was a male, so she switched how she addressed him in her head.

'People like yourself refer to me as the Mourner,' he lamented, 'it is my sacred duty to remember the dead, even if the other living forget.'

Yara thought for a second. She'd met Sightless before, but never one with a duty this personal. Usually they were aloof, disconnected. A dragon prophet who dealt directly with the people was not something she was used to. She wondered what he'd do with the bodies he'd dug up, 'What do you plan to do with those corpses?'

'Even a dragon needs to eat, my carers are dead, what am I to do but scavenge? I cannot hunt.'

The Mourner then dug into the dirt again until he felt a wooden casket. The dragon broke through it with his tusks and carefully removed the body of a man before swallowing it in one go. Yara had to look away and cover the lower half of her face because of the stench. When the dragon swallowed his carrion whole he turned to her again.

'I do no harm, as you can see.'

'Not to people, but the memory of their loved ones.'

'Then perhaps the human beings living here ought to provide me with food.'

'And you've scared a large number of people out of their homes.'

'It was not me that forced them to leave, but rather the fear of what they do not understand.'

'How long have you been here?' asked Yara as she stared directly at the dragon's eyeless head.

'I do not know, time is lost to me.'

Yara went quiet. It was rare for her to run into a dragon she couldn't outright take care of like she'd been taught. There was the occasional one she could reason with, but it still caught her by surprise every single time. The Mourner presented a unique opportunity for her: Someone, or rather something, she could share the load with. Something she could pour her heart out to. He might not understand, but it would help her understand herself.

'You mentioned I could share my burden with you?'

'Inside,' He only uttered a single word before he haphazardly clambered back over the wall. Yara followed through where the front doors had been. The Mourner lay on a stone platform at the centre of the room. A lectern had once stood before that platform, but now it had been replaced by a fallen pillar. Yara sat down on the cold stone and directly in front of the dragon.

'Share your trouble.'

Yara looked at its eyeless face. For a second she didn't know what to say.

'My mentor he's-,' she stopped herself, should she say it? She remembered what he'd always told himself, what she'd picked up from him: saying something out loud would make it real. She didn't want it to be real, did she? Her thoughts came to a halt as she tried to find the right words, 'he's gone...'

That was it. The first time she'd actually said those words aloud since his death. They stung and burned like a hot poker being jabbed into her heart. The creature's serpentine neck had shifted and its head moved in closer.

'This has left a void, has it not?'

'I've never lost anyone before...'

'No one?' the Mourner asked.

Yara shook her head, 'I lost both my parents, but I wasn't old enough at the time to remember their deaths,' said Yara as she looked down.

'Your grief made you run.'

She felt a drop in her stomach, he was right of course.

'Your teacher, what was his name?'

'Arran,' said Yara. She choked up a little, 'Arran Stormcleaver, he pretty much adopted me. He was more like a father than a teacher.'

'I would offer him a space on my skin so he will never be forgotten, but as is obvious my carers are indisposed.'

Yara was quiet. The dragon moved its head closer to her until the tips of his tusks were millimetres removed from her breastplate, 'sharing your loss did not lessen the burden?' he asked, perhaps a little confused.

She shook her head.

'He's still gone,' she wiped away the few tears that'd rolled down her cheeks, 'talking about it didn't change anything. I still feel... hollow.'

The dragon shifted his bare wings. 'Nothing can bring him back, mourning girl. All you can do is learn from how you feel.'

Yara stood up and turned to leave. Her shoulders were slumped and she hung her head.

'I know that,' Yara said as she walked away, 'it still feels like it should be over. I talked about it, didn't I?' She stopped the moment she got to where the doors used to be and turned, 'you'll leave the people of Nordkrysset alone, right?' she sounded apprehensive, 'I don't want... I don't think I should kill you.'

'I am not here to take their lives, I see no need to.'

That was all Yara needed to hear before she calmly shuffled out of the church.

* * *

Yara walked back alone and without a trophy from any sort of fight. No dragon horn or head in hand. The days had gotten shorter and so night had already begun to set in. Yara hadn't realised just how long she'd spent in the church. Despite the early dusk everything seemed a little brighter. The setting sun cast an orange light over the city and gave the houses just that tiny bit of colour they needed. Yara saw Erik's tavern and with slumped shoulders she marched back to its door. Inside it was warm like the night before. No patrons sat at any of its tables. Erik looked up from behind the counter.

'You're back?' he'd likely expected her to come back with something like proof of her fight.

Yara nodded, looking away awkwardly.

'How did it go? Did you find out what it was?'

'He doesn't intend any harm,' she said, 'he's an old Dragon Prophet, a Sightless only focused on mourning the dead.'

'Then why is "he" eating them?' Erik scratched his bald head.

'He's hungry,' answered Yara, 'he can't hunt and he doesn't want to kill anyone, so he takes to scavenging.'

'But why didn't you kill him? Isn't that what you're meant to do?'

Yara didn't say anything. She walked past him and sat down in one of the chairs at the fire. Erik sat down next to her.

'Well, why didn't you-.'

'I didn't want to,' Answered Yara, 'he's not harming anyone, and he wouldn't be digging up graves if people paid attention to- and fed him.'

'But he's a dragon at the heart of the city, that poses at least some kind of threat?' Erik asked.

'In my experience not every dragon is a rage-filled monster,' said Yara, 'now I'm sorry, you've been incredibly hospitable but I feel it's my time to go,' she walked back out through the door and to her horse, which was still by the water trough she'd left her at.

'I'll bring up your thoughts to my peers, though no guarantee they'll agree,' the barkeep had followed her outside.

'I wouldn't expect them to,'

'You don't have to leave, you know.'

'No,' she said, 'I do,' she then untied her reins and got on her horse, 'for my own peace of mind.'

She then turned away and rode out of town. Away from Nordkrysset, and further north.