Del found himself standing at the crossroads of too many problems, each one threatening to unravel the thin thread of control he was desperately clinging to. The weight of uncertainty pressed heavily on his shoulders. Elara stepped closer, looping her arm through his. Whether the gesture was for her own comfort or his, he couldn’t tell, but he welcomed it. The warmth of her touch was a grounding force in the chaos.

‘Well now, Del, this is a bit of a pickle,’ he thought bitterly. He shook his head, his lips tightening into a grim line. Unslipping the bow and quiver from his back, he handed them to Elara.

“I need to think,” he said, his voice flat but determined. “Keep an eye on Seth. Don’t kill him unless you have to.”

The faintest gulp escaped Seth, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. Del almost laughed at the absurdity of the moment. ‘So people really do gulp in fear—good to know.’

He stepped away, pacing just beyond Elara and Seth, his boots crunching against the uneven forest path. Each step seemed to amplify the thoughts racing through his mind.

‘I am not a murderer,’ he told himself firmly. The conviction steadied him for a moment. ‘Killing him might be easy, but it’s not an option. Not unless he gives us no choice.’

The forest around them seemed unusually quiet, the kind of stillness that made him feel watched. The usual chorus of birds had faded to a distant murmur, as if even the wildlife were wary of intruding. Del took another few paces, his hand brushing against the rough bark of a nearby tree. The faint scent of pine sap mingled with the subtle smell of moss, grounding him as his thoughts whirled.

Finally, he turned back to Seth, his voice breaking the uneasy silence. “Tell me about this wizard,” he said, his tone sharp with purpose.

Seth, who had been partially hidden behind Newt’s bulk, started at the question. He’d been murmuring to the dog, his fingers absently stroking Newt’s fur. Now, he looked up, his eyes wary.

“What do you want to know?”

Del’s hand made an impatient gesture. “Everything. I know nothing about him, so start talking. Especially if he’s after Elara.”

Seth hesitated, his lips pressing together as though weighing what to share. Finally, he sighed, the tension in his shoulders visible.

“I don’t really know much,” he admitted. “He’s lived up in the High Woods near the river spring for as long as I can remember.”

“What makes you say he’s a wizard?” Del pressed.

Seth’s gaze flicked to the ground, his hand stilling on Newt’s fur. “It’s just what people say. The kind of thing that gets passed around in taverns and villages. Maybe it’s just to keep kids from wandering too far into the woods. But everyone says he’s an old wizard who fought in the last heaving.”

The word snagged Del’s attention like a thorn. He narrowed his eyes. “Heaving? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Elara and Seth both looked at him as if he’d just sprouted horns.

“You don’t know the heavings?” Seth asked, incredulous. Even Elara tilted her head, her expression puzzled.

“No, I don’t,” Del snapped. “I’m not from around here, remember? Assume I don’t know anything and explain.”

Seth blinked, clearly thrown by the sharpness of Del’s tone, but he began to speak.

“Every four hundred years or so, the creatures of the Underdark start to multiply. They push up to the surface in random places across Gondowa, destroying everything in their path. Towns, kingdoms—gone in weeks if no one stops them. When it happens, the sapient races have to come together and fight them off before they overrun everything. That’s what we call the heaving.”

Del frowned, the pieces of this world’s history slowly slotting into place. The concept of the Underdark was familiar from old stories back home, but hearing it spoken of as a real, recurring threat sent a chill down his spine.

“And this wizard fought in the last heaving?” he asked, his curiosity sharpening.

Seth nodded. “Yeah, at least, that’s what people say. The last one was about 270 years ago.”

Del’s brow furrowed. “So he’s what? A human who’s lived for several centuries?”

“Seems human enough,” Seth said with a shrug. “But magic does strange things to people. Who knows?”

Elara, who had been quiet until now, leaned slightly toward Del, her expression thoughtful. “You’ve gone quiet,” she said softly. “What are you thinking?”

Del rubbed the back of his neck, his mind a whirlwind. “That we have a potentially immortal wizard up in the hills who’s interested in you, for reasons we don’t understand. It’s…a lot to process.”

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He turned back to Seth. “Did he tell you anything else? Did he give a name?”

Seth shook his head. “No name. We just called him the wizard. He came by the yard a couple of days before you showed up. Said he was looking for an elf girl and offered a whole gold piece if we brought one to him.”

“A whole gold piece?” Del asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Seth said. “Enough to make people greedy, but not enough to seem too desperate. That’s how these types operate.”

Elara’s voice cut in, cool and sharp. “Did he give you a description?”

“Not really,” Seth admitted. “Just young and probably travelling alone. He didn’t say why he wanted her, and I didn’t ask. I don’t mess with magic users—they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

Del exhaled slowly, the weight of their predicament settling heavily on him. The wizard wasn’t just some vague figure lurking in the background anymore. He was a real, tangible threat.

“What about slavers?” Del asked abruptly. “You mentioned them earlier. How big of a problem are they around here?”

Seth shrugged. “Not common, but they’re around. You hear about them more than you see them. They trade mostly in the big cities—runaways, thieves, people no one will miss.”

Del absorbed this new layer of danger, filing it away alongside the wizard and the Underdark. It was too much to take in all at once, but he couldn’t afford to let it overwhelm him.

He glanced at Elara. She was watching him with a mixture of concern and determination, her dirty blonde hair catching the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.

‘I barely know her,’ he thought, the realisation hitting him with an odd sense of guilt. ‘And yet, I feel like I’ve known her forever.’

Del nodded, Elara’s quiet confidence steadying his own resolve. He turned to face Seth, who was still crouched next to Newt. The dog’s rhythmic breathing was the only sound in the clearing, a counterpoint to the tension that hung thick in the air.

Del’s gaze lingered on Seth, and the weight of the decision pressed down on him. What am I going to do with you? The question felt heavier with each passing second. Seth might no longer be a direct threat, but he was an unknown quantity—and unknowns had a way of turning dangerous.

Seth seemed to sense the scrutiny, his shoulders shrinking under Del’s hard stare. “What happens to me now?” he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Del didn’t answer right away. Instead, he paced a few steps, the soft footfalls on the leaves underfoot the only interruption to the silence. The forest around them was unnaturally still, as though the trees themselves held their breath, waiting for the moment to unfold.

Finally, Del stopped and turned back to Seth. “You acted badly toward us,” he said, his tone sharp and measured. “You had no idea what fate you were leading Elara to. You might not have known Bran intended to kill me, but you must have suspected he wasn’t above it.”

Seth’s face twisted in a grimace, and he looked away. “I… I didn’t think it would go that far,” he muttered. “I just thought…” He trailed off, the words dying on his lips.

Del watched him for a moment, noting the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead and the way his hands trembled slightly, even as he tried to hide it by stroking Newt’s fur.

“Now Bran is dead,” Del continued, his voice quieter but no less firm. “And you… I don’t know what to do about you.”

Elara stepped forward, her expression unreadable. “Do you think we should kill him?” she asked, her voice calm and measured.

Seth flinched, his eyes widening in alarm. His breathing quickened, and his gaze darted between Del and Elara, as if searching for a way out that didn’t exist.

“Please,” he rasped, his voice raw with desperation. “Don’t kill me. Please.”

Del shook his head, though the doubt lingered in his mind. “No,” he said slowly. “I don’t think we should. But that doesn’t mean I can just let you walk away, either. You were part of this, Seth, and I can’t pretend otherwise. Even if Bran was the driving force, you had a choice—and you made it.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Seth’s head dropped, and he looked down at Newt, his fingers clutching the dog’s fur like a lifeline.

Elara broke the stillness. “Seth, what would you do if we let you go?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard. He hesitated, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye as he raised his head to look at her.

“Go back and bury Bran,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “Then Newt and I would pack up what we could and move on.” He paused, as though the next words cost him something to say. “I’ve always wanted to make furniture. Tables, chairs, things people need. Bran always said it wouldn’t pay, but… Well, he doesn’t get a say anymore.”

Del studied him, watching for any sign of deceit. All he saw was exhaustion and a faint, flickering hope.

“If that’s what you’re going to do,” Del said finally, “then you’d better do it. Maybe one day I’ll find your shop and buy a chair from you.” His tone hardened, and his eyes locked onto Seth’s. “But if I ever see you again in a way that makes me feel threatened, you’ll join your brother. Do you understand me?”

Seth nodded quickly, his movements jerky. “Yes. I understand.”

Del exhaled, the weight of the decision settling on him like a lead cloak. “All right. Get up. Go.”

He turned to Misty, who had been observing the exchange. “Keep an eye on him, girl. Make sure he doesn’t try anything stupid.”

The ginger cat stretched languidly, her green eyes narrowing as she fixed Seth with a piercing stare. Then, with a flick of her tail, she leapt up onto a branch, disappearing into the shadows.

Del sent her a mental nudge. ‘Follow them for a mile or so. Let them catch a glimpse of you here and there, but stay hidden. If they head back to the yard, catch up with us.’

Misty’s reply came with a hint of amusement, as she acknowledged the ease of her task.

Seth didn’t wait to be told twice. He stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid to provoke an attack. Newt stayed close to his side, whining softly as they turned and began walking down the narrow trail.

Del watched them go until the shadows of the trees swallowed them. Only then did he turn to Elara. She stood a few paces away, her arms wrapped around herself, her face streaked with silent tears.

Before he could say anything, she stepped forward and threw her arms around him, her grip fierce. Her quiet sobs dampened his shoulder, and he rested a hand on her back, offering what comfort he could.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “And I thought I was next.”

“You’re safe now,” Del murmured. “We both are.”

After a moment, she pulled back, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Del reached into his pack and handed her the waterskin, watching as she took a few gulps.

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice steady once more. Without a backward glance, she started toward the river.

Del followed, his thoughts heavy with everything that had transpired. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of their troubles.