Ándras woke suddenly with his head banging against something. He tried looking around but found himself inside a small dark compartment. He could hear an engine and gravel and feel himself bumping around. His arms chafed against the restraints and his head felt heavy because of the collar. Try as he might, there was too little space to try and move, and he would still need to break free of the cuffs.

Ándras tried to remember what happened. He could faintly remember visiting a place and that something terrible had happened. Some words echoed in his hazy mind, they were too vague to understand, but the voice was uncommon for him.

"Mon Dieu, there's a man on the road!" Jack yelled. A rugged, lethargic figure waved his hands as he saw the oncoming vehicle, forcing him to stop.

The car stopped. Ándras hit his head quite badly, but not too much to lose consciousness. He could not even yell for help, for someone had stuffed something inside his mouth.

Jack rolled down the window as the man shuffled toward him. "Is there a problem?"

"Ah, yes. Um, could you give me a ride to the next town?" The man asked.

Ándras could hear the conversation and recognized the voice. It was Norman.

Jack knew it was best to stay calm and act normally. For an outside viewer, he was just an old hunter on his way home to everyone else.

"Sure thing. It's not too far." Jack nodded.

"Thank you." Norman sighed with relief.

"Sit on the front seat. I keep my rifles in the back."

After getting on, Norman could smell the woods from the man. Looking back to the back seat, the man truly stuffed it full. There were rubber boots, hunting jackets, all sorts of bags, and the rifles in their carry-backs. He could only wonder why the man had stuffed all of them on the back instead of the trunk.

"So, you are a hunter?" Norman asked.

"Yes, I work as a beast hunter. But what happened to you? You seem to be in rough shape."

"Uh, I got lost and wandered out for a while," Norman said. He could not bother to try and explain his situation.

"You must be lucky. I wouldn't be alone in these woods at night."

Ándras started banging his head and legs against the sides and roof to create as much noise as possible. Jack responded by immediately turning on the radio.

"Do you hear something?" Norman looked around.

"Yes, I should get this old piece of junk inspected at some point." Jack laughed nervously.

Jack's laughter didn't impress Norman. He also noticed the new inspection stamp on the windshield.

The radio picked up a local news broadcast.

"Citizens are asked to remain indoors until further notified. Major general Thomas G. Fawkes has issued his statement on the issue and states that there is no reason to worry."

"There seems to be something going on," Norman noted.

"Seems so. I saw a military convoy going past me a while ago."

"Do you know where they could be headed?"

"Hmmm, if I would guess by the road, I'd say they're going to Bertim."

"Bertim? Are you sure?" Norman realized.

"Well, they could be going further, but I also saw some police, and the traffic seems to stay away from there."

"I need to go there." Norman pleaded.

"Don't be foolish. The police won't let anyone inside."

"Then just drop me here."

Jack could tell Norman was cleverer than most, but it would not matter if he dropped him off.

"If that is what you wish." Jack stopped on the side of the road.

Jack followed Norman with his eyes as he got out of his car. As he switched to look at the side mirror, he gasped. There was no trace of him. The situation seemed suspicious, so Jack got off the car and looked around.

Jack heard the gravel grinding with Norman's steps. He walked to the other side of the car and slowly peeked around the front like stalking prey. Yet, there was nothing there, or so Jack saw it.

Meanwhile, Norman had to hold his breath as Jack glared down in his direction. Jack noticed the open trunk and immediately rushed there. He went around and looked inside. There was almost no time to react.

"How?" Jack saw nothing.

Just in time, Norman had used his magic to make Ándras invisible as well. Norman held his breath as Jack tried checking the trunk. Jack didn't see anything there but had to make sure his eyes weren't fooling him. His hand went closer and closer to Ándras like a snake slithering toward a mouse, trying to go close enough to strike.

The two tried to stay still like statues, hoping he would not sense them. Yet, as Jack's finger finally tapped Ándras, they both tensed up. The sweat on Norman's brow dripped to the ground. Ándras' heart was beating a thousand times a second. He hadn't even come through from the surprise when he saw Norman open the trunk.

Slowly, Jack lifted his hand and started looking around. He breathed in, corrected his glasses, and took one of the rifles from the back seat.

"This won't take long." Jack loaded the gun.

The engine suddenly revved. Jack was sure he had left it to idle. The car started moving. Jack dropped his rifle as he hurried to open the driver's door, but found it to be locked. At that moment, he saw Norman appear in the driver's seat, gasping for breath. The car turned around and speeded off as jack fell to the ground.

Jack took his weapon and aimed at the driver. Norman could see it from the rearview mirror and ducked his head.

Yet, jack lowered his weapon.

"Noun, it would stain the leather." He said. "I'll find them there."

After driving for a while, Norman steered to the side and stopped the car. He went to the trunk, where Ándras still was. After opening the ties, the two stepped back into the car.

"Phew, thanks, Norman," Ándras said. "How did you do that?"

"Did what?" Norman asked while driving.

"He didn't notice us."

"Oh, that. Well, there is more to my, I mean Lisa's spell than you know. Specter is not a spell that makes me invisible. It makes you unable to perceive me. That doesn't mean you can't sense me in other ways. That's why there is a secret technique. Incognito." Norman explained. "I'll show it to you."

"Alright-What?!" Andras agreed but found the driver's seat empty.

He could see the empty seat, and Ándras knew Norman had to be there, but it felt like there was nothing more than air. The pedals moved by themselves, and so did the steering wheel. Ándras had the urge to take hold of them, or the car would go out of control. He tried poking the air, but even though he hit something, it was like his hand had stopped, not that he made contact with anything. If he wasn't concentrating on the idea of someone being there, he would have never known.

Norman returned and took a deep breath. "You see?" He smiled smugly while still taking in air.

"You were there the whole time?"

"The whole time." Norman nodded. "You didn't even notice that I plucked some hair from your beard."

"Wow!" Ándras leaned back.

"That's Lisa's grand spell: Incognito. By holding my breath, I remove all possible ways to sense me and anything I touch. I can also use my spell to make others invisible as long as I touch them. That part is called Unseen Aid."

"I did not know you had a such hidden talent."

"It's not my talent, mind you."

"Oh, yeah, sorry."

"It's all right." Norman sighed.

"Um, do you know how to get this off me?" Ándras pointed at his collar.

"That's a magic restriction chain. I think it requires a key or a smith."

"You reckon the key doesn't happen to be in this car, don't you?"

"No, my guess is it's on that hunter. Do you have any idea why he kidnapped you?"

"I think he said something about us ruining the fox hunt, so he tried to sell me off as revenge."

"Yeah, we made a few enemies with that." Norman nodded. "Wait, how did he catch you?"

"I think he drugged me."

"How are we going to take this thing off?" Andras tried pulling the collar.

"Well, I was going to say that we could just rip your head off and put it back, but I don't think that's a good idea."

"Any better ideas?" Ándras rubbed his neck.

"Do you want to try and take the key from him?"

"I don't think I can. Not like this." Ándras shook his head.

"Then we're frankly out of luck unless we find a hacksaw."

"Could he have that under all that junk?" Ándras glanced at the back.

Norman gave him a displeased stare. Ándras' missed it as he was already rummaging through Jack's belongings like a dumpster-diving raccoon. All Norman could do is turn up the radio and sigh.

Orel and Slacume traversed carefully through the village. Neither knew where danger could surprise them next. The blood moon left much in the shade and grew concerning shadows.

"We should hurry to the priest." Orel reminded.

"I don't know if he's going to be any help at this point," Slacume said.

They arrived at the remote church at the edge of town. Orel noticed how the lights had gone out from all windows, and the whole building loomed in silent darkness. Before they would enter, the two heard a sound coming from the road.

"Is that a car?" Slacume heard.

A line of headlights shone through the fog as a convoy of armored vehicles burst through the fog. Orel and Slacume waved their hands so they could spot them.

"It's the ADF! We're saved!" Slacume jumped.

Thankfully for the two, the cars turned to drive toward them. As the dust settled, the back doors opened, and the well-equipped soldiers rushed out, led by James. He marched forward with his lieutenants, quite concerned.

"Are you two alright?" James asked.

"Yes. I am Slacume Potomac, servant of sir Lionel."

"And I'm Orel. The Duke hired our party to get rid of Barghest."

"I see. I mistook you for civilians. I am Major James Periwinkle of the Frogfoot. Could you tell me about the situation at hand?"

"Um, this fog came about, and our party and I got separated. They're still lost." Orel explained.

"Don't worry, we are here to protect," James assured.

"Oh, and we found this cave," Orel remembered.

"A cave?" James' slender brow raised.

"Yeah, the father asked us to get rid of the boggarts. We found where they were, but they were all dead except one and there was this weird ritual circle and we almost got trapped there." Slacume explained hastefully.

"And one of us is still in there." Orel was still concerned about Isao.

"Sounds like there's more going on here than what we thought, Major," Diarmuid noted.

"Is your party member still stuck there?" James wanted to confirm.

"Oh, he's not a party member. We just met him in the fog. He helped us to get rid of Barghest." Orel corrected. "But he's still stuck there."

"Hmmm. Could one of you come with us to show the way?" James asked.

"I'll go." Slacume applied.

"Are you sure?" James asked.

"yes," Slacume said with a stern face.

"Good, but we still need to assess some things." James reminded his subordinates.

"Hey, boy. Who told you to go after those boggarts?" Diarmuid leaned in.

"Father Ostwind, the town priest," Orel answered.

"Hey, Smith," Diarmuid yelled into his vehicle.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" An officer popped out from the back.

"You're from here, weren't you?"

"Yes, sir." Smith nodded.

"Are there usually brownies here?"

"Yes, sir. Quite a few houses have them."

"Have you heard of them turning into boggarts?"

"Um, no, sir. It rarely if ever happened." Smith shook his head. "Some did disappear from time to time."

"Then, do you know the town priest, father Ostwind?"

"Yes, sir. The father has been with us for a long time. He is very kind and friendly, though he gets often lost in thought."

"How long has he been here?"

"Long. He was here when grandpa was a kid. The man is old as the forest." Smith smiled.

"What are you on about this time, Cumhaill?" James asked.

"Call me a skeptic, but there shouldn't be a need to get rid of the boggarts, especially during the night."

"The named one had killed them," Orel remembered the cruel sight.

"A named boggart?" Orel's comment threw James in disarray. "So there is someone behind this."

Diarmuid felt very smug for a moment but knew that it made the situation direr. James collected himself and tried forming a plan. All this stress made his glasses fog up, but after a moment used cleaning them, James felt ready to take action.

"Alright, gather around," James ordered.

"Yes, sir." The lieutenants agreed.

James turned to the lieutenants waiting in a row to discuss the plan.

"Alright, so first and foremost, it seems that most of the civilians are already in their houses. We need at least two platoons to commence evacuation. We will use our MSVs for evacuation." James assessed the situation.

"Let us send your platoon, Aberdeen, to investigate the cave. The second platoon is most fit for that." James turned to Angus.

"Yes, sir."

"Sadly, only our MSVs were able to penetrate the fog, so we will not have the police force to help us until they are adequately equipped. Cumberland and Wellington, your platoons shall conduct the evacuation. This spot shall be our meeting place. Return here once you are done."

"Yes, sir." Claire and Arthur agreed.

"Alright. Firstly, radio check." James took out his radio.

Only static came out of it.

"It seems the fog cut our communications. Let's swap to telepaths."

Though radio had mostly replaced them, the military still utilized a group of people known as telepaths. It was one of the surest ways for them to find employment, though the pay was meager and they could not advance through the ranks. Telepathy was a rare innate spell that ran in some families of mages. Telepathy was categorized as an internal mystic mutation. It is one of the few talents that haven't been replicated, though it had multiple limitations that made it less than desirable. Only other telepaths could receive their messages, which they could only send to one person at a time and only to those they had seen and remembered. Worst of all, the mutation suppressed their ability to form a spell. Recognizing a telepath was not easy if they did not have their papers with them, but a knowledgeable person knew that every telepath had a bony growth after the first joint on their index finger.

"But, sir, we only have three telepaths. How do we split them?" Claire pointed out.

"That is a good point, lieutenant." James pondered. "If the third and fourth platoon unites to evacuate the civilians, one of their telepaths could be left here." He proposed.

"Good idea, sir." Claire said.

"I shall offer mine, sir," Arthur suggested.

"Very well." James nodded.

"What should I do, major?" Diarmuid asked as everyone else had their orders.

"If you think you're onto something, be my guest and continue your investigation." James sighed.

"Then, I'd like to keep this boy around." Diarmuid pointed at Orel.

"Why?" James looked at him.

"What?" Orel looked at Diarmuid.

"What's the issue? He is from a party, and we can try finding his pals." Diarmuid reasoned.

"He does not seem that useful." James said.

The comment may have hurt, but Orel didn't doubt that he was still outclassed in this situation.

"He fought Barghest and found the cave." Diarmuid bent the narrative in his favor.

"Alright, fine. You are officially scouting anyways." James was ready to smoke another cigarette.

"Okay, that's it for the briefing. Get to work now. Glory to Frogfoot!" James lifted his hand.

"For frogfoot!" His soldiers cheered.

"You heard what the boss said. Get a move on!" Claire commanded her units.

The cars turned around to be ready to embark. Soldiers checked their equipment and readied themselves. Those that were not scared for their life were full of vigor and excitement This was a good chance for them to get promoted or given medals for their efforts.

"Folkland! You will stay here." Arthur gave orders.

"Yes, sir!" Folkland stepped out of the vehicle.

"You're the telepath?" James asked.

"Yes, Major. The name is Guss Folkland.” Folkland introduced himself.

"You there. You come with me." Angus gestured to Slacume.

"Oh, right." Slacume walked towards the car.

"See you, Orel!" Slacume waved him off.

"See you." Orel felt a bit awkward.

"You sit in the front with me." Angus kept the door open for him.

The cars drove off and scattered around the village. Two vehicles went for the houses, while the third one, with the guidance of Slacume, headed to the woods. Only the Major, captain, telepath, and Orel were left.

"I think I'll check out the church," Diarmuid informed James.

"Just go." James lighted a cigarette for how much done he was.

"Boy, come with me." Diarmuid waved.

"Alright." Orel felt like he had no word on the matter.

They approached the door.

Diarmuid banged on it with his giant fist. "Is anyone home?"

The church was deathly quiet. The two waited for a moment, yet no one came to open the door.

"Excuse me," Diarmuid took hold of the massive doors.

Orel took a step back. He had a bad feeling about it.

Diarmuid pulled on the doors until they began creaking and slivering. The massive muscles in his arms bulged, and his veins grew until the doors finally gave in and opened. A foul stench flowed from the inside. The darkness inside was truly uninviting. Still, they had to step inside the dark sanctuary to find out.