‘Who or what the fuck is Zelore?’

Del couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just been served another curveball, another reminder of how little he truly understood about this world.

‘I really need to start learning some basic facts about this damn place before I trip into something worse.’

His gaze drifted back to the arcane symbol staring up at him from the open journal.

A black eclipse, the moon swallowing the sun—but at the centre, peering through the void, was a skull. Hollow eyes. Grinning teeth. There was something unsettlingly human about it, as though it wasn’t just a design, but a presence.

It was the sort of thing that crawled into the back of your mind and lingered.

Elara’s fingers hesitated for the briefest moment before she turned the page.

“He is Zelore,” she said at last, her tone measured but not dismissive. “God of Darkness, the Underworld, and the Dead.”

Del glanced at her, catching something in her expression—not quite fear, but something far more cautious.

Elara exhaled through her nose, tapping the journal’s worn pages as if steadying her thoughts. “It makes sense,” she continued, but now her voice carried a quiet gravity. “If someone was trying to bring forward the heaving, then invoking Zelore’s power—or at least his domain—would be a natural step.”

She ran her thumb across the edge of the parchment, eyes flicking over the eclipsed sun and its grinning skull. “He is not… a mindless force of destruction. He is balance. A keeper of the dead. A guardian, not a conqueror.”

A flicker of something—wary respect, perhaps—passed through her gaze. “But meddling with his domain?” She shook her head, lips pressing into a thin line. “That has never ended well.”

Del let out a slow, relieved breath.

‘Thanks, lass. You don’t know it, but you just came to the rescue yet again.’

“It certainly seems to corroborate the letter,” he added, nodding towards the ominous passage they had read aloud earlier.

Paolo rubbed his chin, his brows drawn in thought before shifting his gaze towards Del.

“You said you were planning on heading towards Stenfield?”

Del nodded, still absently flipping through the mage’s journal, trying to make sense of the disjointed notes and cryptic scribbles.

Paolo exhaled in satisfaction. “Excellent. Then may I entrust you with a letter to deliver to the Laird of Stenfield? We fall under her jurisdiction here, and she will need to be informed.”

Del hesitated for half a second, but before he could voice any concerns, Vita spoke up.

“It might also be good for you to escort Naomi,” she suggested.

That caught Del’s attention. He looked up sharply.

“She trusts you,” Vita continued, “and her father, Mr Cooper, has seen both of you prove yourselves more than capable of keeping her safe.”

Paolo nodded in agreement. “I shall speak to her parents later and advise them that she needs to go and find a teacher.”

Del frowned slightly, shifting in his seat.

“I’m sure we can take the letter,” he admitted, choosing his words carefully, “but Naomi? I’m not sure if—”

His own thoughts cut him off before Elara even had the chance.

‘Think about this, Del. She’s a child. She needs safety, stability, and someone who actually knows what they’re doing. Which is not you.’

‘Oh, don’t be dramatic. You’ve survived gods, monsters, and eldritch horrors. A seven-year-old can’t be worse than that. …Can she?’ he responded with dripping sarcasm.

His jaw tightened. ‘Really? Now they decide to argue?’ Thoughts within thoughts begin to bicker.

‘She’ll be a responsibility.’

‘She’ll be fine.’

‘She’ll slow us down.’

‘She can already navigate better than you, let’s be honest.’

His lips pressed together, still trying to frame a rational excuse when Elara, with perfect timing, leaned in.

She arched a brow, smirking as though she could see the exact war raging in his head.

“Oh, hush,” she said breezily, rolling her eyes as if he were being ridiculous. “I can manage one little girl. And I can help teach her along the way as well.”

Del stared at her, searching for an opening, some way to argue.

Elara tilted her head, gaze twinkling with mock challenge, daring him to try.

‘Mate, if you think you’re winning this argument, you’re even dumber than usual.’

Del let out a slow, resigned exhale, running a hand down his face.

‘Outnumbered and outgunned again, Del.’

With a reluctant but knowing nod, he conceded defeat.

“Fine. We’ll plan to leave tomorrow,” he said. “That gives us today to gather supplies and, most importantly, enjoy another of Donna’s amazing dinners.”

Paolo chuckled, standing from his chair. “I shall have the letter delivered to the inn later today,” he assured them. “For now, I need to go see the Coopers.” His gaze shifted to Vita. “Vita, could you possibly come with me? You’ll be able to explain the reason Naomi needs to leave far better than I.”

Vita nodded, already gathering her things.

The rest of the afternoon drifted by in easy familiarity, filled with the sounds and scents of the market. The air was thick with the aroma of fresh bread, roasting meat, and the faint spice of dried herbs stacked neatly in small wooden crates.

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The hum of traders bartering, villagers chatting, the occasional burst of laughter blended into a comforting background noise.

Del relaxed into the atmosphere, letting the weight of the past few days settle.

‘I really don’t miss the hum of traffic.’

They moved between stalls, picking through supplies, careful to get only what they could carry.

Two small tents, some dried food, a fresh restock of travel essentials—nothing fancy, but enough to last the journey.

At one point, Del stopped at a fishmonger’s stall, examining the fresh catch laid out on smooth wooden boards.

“Two of these,” he said, exchanging a few coins for a pair of gutted fish.

Elara raised a brow, watching him slip them into his pack.

“For Misty,” he said simply. “She deserves it.”

Elara smirked. “Speaking of, where is she?”

Del glanced around, suddenly aware of her absence.

‘Where has that damned cat got herself off to now?’

By the time they returned to the inn, the afternoon sun had dipped low enough to cast long shadows across the village square.

The scent of roasting meat drifted from Donna’s kitchen, the warm glow of the hearth spilling through the open door, welcoming them home.

“I’m going to have a long bath before dinner,” Elara announced as they stepped inside.

She cast Del a sidelong look before giving an overly dramatic sniff.

“You could do with one too.”

Del barely had time to react before she laughed and dodged his playful swipe, slipping past him towards the door with a grin.

He shook his head, smirking as he followed her in.

The Cock and Ball was already easing into its late afternoon lull by the time of their return. The air carried the faint aroma of roasted meat and spiced ale, a comforting backdrop to the steady clink of mugs and the occasional murmured conversation from a handful of lingering patrons.

Elara barely paused before making her way straight to the bar.

“Jake, can I get a bath?” she asked, rolling her shoulders as if already imagining the warmth soaking into her skin.

Jake gave a sharp whistle, signalling to his lad, who immediately darted off to arrange it.

“Give it a few minutes,” Jake said, already reaching beneath the counter. “Soon be sorted.”

It wasn’t long before Del found himself with a tray in his hands, stacked high with thick slices of bread, cold cuts, and a steaming pot of herbal tea.

“We’ve got a few bits to organise, so I think we’ll have lunch in our room,” Del told him.

Jake simply nodded, already turning his attention back to wiping down the bar’s already pristine counter.

Del smirked. The man had his rituals.

By the time Del reached their room, the lad was already leaving, balancing two empty buckets as he pulled the door open. He stepped aside to let Del through.

“Thanks,” Del acknowledged, stepping past and kicking the door shut behind him.

The room was pleasantly warm, the steam curling lazily in the air, carrying the soft scent of lavender and the faint, clean trace of soap. The gentle crackle of the hearth mixed with the occasional drip of water from the tub, lending the space an almost tranquil stillness.

Del set the tray down, exhaling slowly, feeling the tension of the past few days loosen ever so slightly.

Elara was already sinking into the deep copper tub, the steaming water lapping against her skin as she stretched out with a contented sigh, her golden-blonde hair floating lazily at the surface before she pushed it back with a careless hand.

She was utterly at ease, her movements relaxed and unhurried, as though this were nothing more than a routine end to an ordinary day.

Del, however, was suddenly unsure where to look.

‘Stop staring. Be normal. Don’t be a bloody idiot.’

‘If she doesn’t care, why the fuck should you Del?’

He focused on the tray of food, pretending that bread and cold cuts were the most fascinating things in the world.

Elara let out a soft, relaxed hum, tilting her head back against the tub’s curved edge.

"Now this," she murmured, stretching slightly, causing a few lazy ripples across the water, "is exactly what I needed."

Del huffed a quiet breath, nodding absently.

“You know,” he said after a moment, keeping his tone neutral, “some people like to bathe in private.”

Elara cracked one eye open, her expression bordering somewhere between amusement and confusion.

"Some people are odd," she said simply, as if it were an objective truth.

Del snorted, shaking his head. "Right. It’s the rest of the world that’s strange. Not you."

"Obviously," she replied, stretching again, shifting slightly as she adjusted against the tub’s edge, causing another unhelpful series of ripples across the water. "What’s the issue, anyway? If you don’t want a bath then don’t. You don’t smell that bad really."

Del let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Comforting."

"Besides, it’s just a bath," she added, closing her eyes again. "Water. Soap. No great mystery to it."

Del’s mouth twitched. "You’d be surprised how many humans might disagree."

Elara cracked another eye open. "Well, then humans have some strange hang-ups."

Del had no argument for that.

Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck and busied himself with pulling out the vials from Vita’s pouch, keenly aware of the naked, unconcerned elf only a few feet away.

‘Focus, Del. Time to see exactly what we’ve got here.’

Pulling out the pouch Vita had given them, Del began sorting through the vials, their glassy surfaces catching the flickering light from the lantern.

‘Identify.’

A soft pulse of recognition hummed at the edge of his mind, followed by the familiar system readout.

* Potion of Minor Healing – A basic healing potion, able to heal minor wounds and stop bleeding.

‘The four of them will be good when feldspar isn’t enough.’

* Potion of Major Healing – A powerful potion, able to heal major fractures, restore lost limbs, and regenerate damaged internal organs.

‘Only one, but that could prove crucial.’

* Potion of Stamina Renewal – Restores stamina to 75% of maximum.

‘These three will come in handy.’

* Potion of Minor Strengthening – Grants a 40% strength boost for one hour.

‘Two of these… that could be useful in a pinch.’

Satisfied, he turned his attention to the vials Vita hadn’t been able to identify.

Two remained a mystery, but the others came into focus:

* Potion of Climbing (x2) – Climb sheer walls easily. Duration: 2 minutes.

* Potion of Air – Allows the drinker to breathe underwater or in noxious air for 5 minutes.

‘No idea what we’ll use these for, but they’ll be useful at some point.’

Then his fingers brushed against the last vial.

A shiver ran through him.

‘Identify.’

For a second, nothing happened.

Then the response slid into his mind—but it was different this time. Where the others had felt neutral, factual, this one carried something else, something that made his skin prickle in an unsettling way.

* Potion of Stealth – Grants near-invisibility through intangible blending with surroundings.

Caution: sound is not obscured.

Duration: 10 minutes or until combat.

As the information settled, Del swore the shadows around the vial deepened, just for a moment.

He rolled it between his fingers, frowning. The liquid was darker than the others, an odd smoky hue, shifting like trapped mist swirling inside glass.

It was the kind of magic that made you feel watched.

[Congratulations, your Identify skill has increased to Improved Identify.]

Del smirked. Progress.

A soft thump broke the silence as a ginger blur landed gracefully on the wooden floor.

Misty.

She strode forward like she owned the place, tail flicking, paws silent as breath as she approached.

Del barely had time to register her return before she sauntered past him, barely sparing a glance for the spread of vials. She gave them a sniff, then turned her head slightly, ears twitching.

She lingered, just for a second, in front of the stealth potion.

Then, with a slow, deliberate stretch, she turned away, tail curling with feline finality, and hopped up onto the bed.

Del watched her go, arching a brow. That was deliberate.

A familiar nudge brushed against his mind, lazy, unhurried.

‘So where have you been, then, little minx?’

Misty settled into a long, luxurious sprawl, her body angled just enough to ensure the best possible comfort while also taking up far more space than necessary.

Then she turned her head, just slightly, and fixed him with a perfectly unreadable, smug expression.

‘Exploring.’

Del narrowed his eyes.

‘Exploring what?’

A slow blink.

A stretch.

A pause long enough to suggest she was debating whether answering was even worth her time.

Then, finally—

‘Things.’

Del stared at her.

She yawned, delicately curling her front paws under her chest.

Conversation over.

Del let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his temples. He wasn’t going to win this one.