Midday rays of sun shone upon a makeshift campsite, and covered from shoulders to toes with a blanket, the lass slumbered beneath a nearby tree, back pressed against it.
A handmade spear in hand, David stood shirtless, and barefooted in an ankle deep river near camp.
“Here fishy, fishy… ”
Something nibbled at his toes, and he plunged the lance into the water in one, swift movement.
“Gotcha!”
He pulled the spear up, and noticed that he had impaled not one, but two fishes in a single stab at the river.
“Sweet! A two for one!”
<><><>
The smell of grilled salmon caressed Julia’s nostrils, and it prompted her awake. She fluttered her eyes, and they met two fishes skewered on a stick, roasting over a lit fire.
“Where…?” She queried, noticing a makeshift clothesline to her left.
The garbs hung upon the line looked oddly familiar, and Ebonhearth squinted until she recognized them.
“Are those—”
“Your clothes” — a familiar voice reached her ears — “yes they are!”
Julia glanced to her right and spotted David standing next to a horse.
“They stunk of liquor, so I took the liberty of washing them for you.”
Said David as he held a carrot before its muzzle.
It’s tongue polished the treat from his hand, to which the blond then caressed it behind the ear.
“How did you get them?”
Said Julia, as she noticed him reaching within one of the saddlebags.
“Snuck into the village barracks before breaking you out—”
“—that’s usually where they keep confiscated things.”
A golden gleam caught her eye as David went to sit by the fire. It was her dagger that he held in his hand…
“I believe this is yours.”
“My dagger!? How did you—”
“I found it on the floor, shortly after the guards took you away—”
She crawled towards the fire and stretched her arm over the flames, to take it from him.
“—figured it be better with me, than with some random bloke.”
“Thank you, David—”
Her voice waned as she held the dagger closely to her chest…
“—this weapon holds a lot of sentimental value to me.”
“I can relate to that” — he smiled and gazed at the blade on his waist — “fella here also shares a special place in my heart.”
“How so?”
He averted his eyes. “A story for another day, lass…”
A crack from the fire caught their attention, to which David bent forward and took one of the fish.
“Don’t know about you” — he stated — “but I’m famished!”
Her stomach unleashed an embarrassingly loud gurgle, and Julia felt her face burn.
Yet, to her immense relief, he said nothing as she laid down her dagger and yanked the other fish from the fire.
Like a ravenous animal, she tore away at the meat, practically snarling as the flavour caressed her tongue.
When only the head, bones and tail remained, Julia glanced upwards and met David’s wide-eyed stare.
“What!?” Said Ebonhearth with flustered cheeks.
Before he could reply, however, her stomach growled again, and her face turned an even brighter red.
“Here” — he smiled and gave her his half-eaten meal — “take mine.”
“But aren’t you hungry as well?”
“Not as much as you, obviously…”
His amicable smile made it all the harder for her to refuse, thus, Julia accepted his fish with an awkward tug at the corner of her lips.
As she ate with a little more mannerism, the uniform David adorned the night before caught the corner of her eye, laying next to a bedroll behind him, and she couldn’t help but inquire about it.
“Where did you get a guard’s uniform?”
The blond peered over his shoulder, then back at her.
“It was an inheritance from Abigail…”
“An inheritance? What do you mean?”
He averted his gaze, a melancholic expression in his eyes as he tightened his fist, and bit his lower lip.
“Johnathan is dead, lass—”
“—presumably the first victim of that beast’s carnage…”
A moment of silence befell them, and Julia finished off her meal with a sense of turmoil.
If only she’d acted quicker, or done something different, then maybe Johnathan would still be alive.
Had she not been craven, then perhaps Benjamin would still be able to embrace his father.
“I’m sorry…” She mumbled out the words.
“For what?”
“For not being able to save him…”
David hissed and rose to his feet.
“Don’t dwell on that” — he marched towards the horse — “you can’t save everyone…”
Julia lowered her head and frowned, but held her tongue in case she might say something stupid.
Perhaps he was right, after all…
“Anyways—”
Peering up at the blond, she saw him reach in one of the saddlebags, retrieving a towel and bar of soap from within.
“—catch!”
He lobbed them her way.
She caught them, yet tilted her head with a puzzled expression upon her face.
“Why are you giving me this?”
“Isn’t it obvious” — he scoffed — “you reek of cheap ale, lass!”
“Really!?”
She took a whiff of her hair and gagged as soon as the stench hit her nostrils.
“You aren’t wrong, I guess” — she awkwardly giggled — “but where do I bathe?”
David rolled his eyes, then pointed to the river behind her.
Cheeks burning, she averted her gaze and spoke.
“And you’re just gonna sit here!?”
The blond hissed and rolled his eyes once more.
“As I said before—”
Brocksteel approached his bedroll and gathered the pieces of Johnathan’s uniform.
“—there are more exciting things to look at than your tiny boobs.”
He strode towards the forest, garments in tow.
“Anyways, off to bury these somewhere safe…”
“But why” — Julia frowned — “you said it was an inheritance…?”
“It’s also evidence…”
He peered over his shoulder so that their eyes would meet.
His mind spoken, David averted his sights and entered the woods.
Once he was gone, her eyes locked with the flames of the campfire…
What would Johnathan and Abigail think?
Should she had said something…?
No!
As cruel as it sounded, David was right—they needed any advantage they could get…
“Clean yourself up while I’m gone!”
He hollered from beyond the trees, and Julia pouted at his words.
Wasn’t he already long gone at this point!?
Yet her bitter attitude quickly turned into a long, drawn-out sigh.
She couldn’t argue with that…
<><><>
Solseed village, that same time.
A guard and his partner stood stationed beyond the northern gates of the village. The previous set had left earlier, thus, it was their turn to oversee the town outskirts.
“Think we’ll see any monsters today?” Asked the first.
“Don’t be ridiculous” — he hissed — “ain’t been no monster in these parts since Solseed was built!”
“And what attacked the village before yesterday!?”
As much as he wanted to bite back, he couldn’t.
The bloke had a point…
He then grumbled at his reply. “They’re dumb rumours…”
“People don’t simply believe everything they hear, you know?”
“Can we please change the subject!”
Grinning like an obnoxious kid, the first glanced at his colleague and wiggled his brows.
“You afraid of a few goblins!?”
“Shut it!”
But his partner chuckled harder at his response.
“Oh, now I get it—”
He mimicked a set of horns at the side of his own head.
“—you’re scared of the big bad trolls!”
Beneath gritted teeth, he took a deep breath, and fought the impulse to punch him in the face.
And, at that same moment, he vowed he’d leave the bloody village if the mayor delayed his payment again.
Thinking about that renewed his frustrations, and he readied a slew of curses to berate him.
But before he could do so, a strong gust of wind blew through them like a storm.
It sped up as the guard shield his eyes…
The neighs of a horse echoed around him, and he gripped the handle of his sword.
He swallowed down what felt like a cogwheel of dust. “What the—”
But as swift as it began, the tempest disappeared without a trace, as if a wyvern had swallowed it whole.
Hacking the soil out of his lungs, the guard finally regained his bearings, only to freeze upon peering back to the road ahead.
Right there—just a few feet away—stood a black horse…
Its scarlet eyes shimmered brighter than the setting sun at twilight, and they shimmered against the dark longcoat its rider wore.
The man blinked twice to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, before drawing his sword.
“The hell are you!?” He exclaimed, to which his partner was quick to back him up, weapon also at the ready.
“A-and where did you come from!?”
Yet the stranger paid them no heed, and led his mount forward as a white string of dust fell from his left hand.
“We’re serious!”
“S-stay back!”
The figure in black steered his horse to a halt and removed his hood, revealing himself as a man of brown hair and a short beard. But the first thing that caught their awareness, were his reptilian eyes of red and yellow, his demonic gaze sending shivers down their spines.
“Still your weapons—”
Stated the man as he reached for the greatsword upon his back.
“—I’m here on behalf of the House of Grasses!”
Dry mouthed and shuddering, the guard glanced at his partner, nodded and did as the man instructed.
After all, he was clearly the Glaive that Mr. Braithway was expecting.
The man freed the handle of his sword as soon as the guards’ blades went back into their sheaths. He then clicked his tongue so his horse would start trotting forward.
“Take me to the mayor!”
Stated the stranger, not even looking at neither of them…
Signalling his partner to stay put and watch the gate, the first guard stumbled after the Glaive.
“R-right this way, sir!”
<><><>
Meanwhile, back at the campsite.
A naked Julia sat in the river, its gentle currents caressing her waistline as she scrubbed her head with soap.
“Let’s see” — she smelt her hair and gagged almost instantly — “still needs a good scrubbing!”
She had washed out most of the stink, yet a faint odour lingered, and she couldn’t stand it. Julia had bathed for at least thirty minutes, and wasn’t about to stop until she got rid of the damn smell.
But just as Ebonhearth was about to drench her hair with water, the eerie calm of the forest got a grip of her heat.
She shivered…
‘Where’s David…?’
The foliage around her betrayed nothing and it sent an ever growing frown to her face…
She straightened her posture and brought a single arm closer to her breasts. Her eyebrow twitched and she slammed the water with her other hand.
“You better not be spying on me, you peeping Tom!”
Certain that he was skulking in a shrub or behind a tree somewhere, she honed her hearing and listened for a disruption, yet heard nothing but the gale brushing through the foliage, along with the running waters of the river.
She was truly alone…
Taking another waft from her hair, Julia sighed with relief when the stench of booze didn’t assault her nostrils again.
‘Thank the goddesses—’
Sighing with relief, Ebonhearth rose to her feet, tiny droplets of water swaying from her hips down her thighs…
‘—it don’t reek no more…’
As she approached the riverside, she grabbed the towel off the grass and wrapped it around her body. With her breasts and groin all covered up, Julia reached the makeshift clothesline and rubbed the fabrics of her garbs between her fingers.
‘Feels dry enough to wear…’
She peered to her left, then her right.
No David in view…
And so, she snatched her clothes off the line and quickly got dressed.
She’d rather die than let him get another glimpse at her naked body!
It wasn’t long before Ebonhearth was fully clad, and she centred her rose crown on her head.
“That should do it!”
Stated Julia with a triumphant grin, rejoiced to be wearing her attire once again.
But her small victory was short, for she took a good look around and saw that the blond was still nowhere to be seen.
Julia coned her hands before her mouth, and hollered his name from the top of her lungs.
“David!!!”
Yet the echoes of her voice were her only response…
Could he have abandoned her?
The thought crossed her mind, but she refused to believe it.
Besides, the horse and all their belongings were still here…
“David” — Julia bellowed again as she entered the woods — “where in the world did you go!?”
<><><>
The mayor’s office, that same time.
Within Braithway’s office, a dove sat in a cage. It hopped on its perch and cooed at the walls, sometimes nibbling at its underwings whenever it got bord…
Seated at his desk, Edgar doused his quill into the inkpot upon it and continued translating his thoughts into words.
A faint knock at the door caught his attention, to which his secretary spoke from beyond.
“Mr. Braithway…?”
“What is it, Jenette?”
“There’s someone here to see you, sir…”
Edgar grumbled as he continued on with his writing…
He wasn’t in the mood to see anyone, let alone had time to spare out of his already tight schedule.
“Tell them I’m busy and that I’ll see them tomorrow!”
A brief pause followed, to which Jenette then uttered again…
“He says he’s here on behalf of the House of Grasses…”
His eyes expanded, and Braithway leapt out of his seat. “Let him in!”
The door opened, to which his secretary held it as the Glaive set foot inside. His armour chimed with each step he took, and soon, his eyes locked with that of the mayor’s.
Edgar reclaimed his seat and gestured for him to do the same.
“Please, make yourself at home!” He stated with utmost politeness…
Without words, the devil-eyed man accepted his request and sat before his desk.
“Fetch us some of our finest wine, Janette!”
“None for me, thanks—”
The Glaive told the secretary, his eyes meeting the corner of hers.
“—I’d rather stay sober while on the hunt…”
Braithway dared her one last glance.
“Scratch that request and leave us—”
With that said, the woman bowed her head and took her leave. Once Janette had closed the door behind her, and they were finally alone, the mayor looked at the man.
“—I see you take your profession rather seriously; Sir…?”
Unable to hide his respect towards his professionalism, Edgar rolled his last syllables and expected him to answer with a name.
“Vergil Greymare” — he replied — “and I’d appreciate it if you’d cut the chatter and got to the matter at hand.”
The mayor rolled the memo he wrote into a scroll, rose from his seat and approached the dove’s cage.
Greymare broke the silence…
“Your letter said you had a witch already in custody—”
“—so where is she?”
“We had some; Complications…”
And opening the hatch, he grabbed the bird off its perch and tied the message around its frame with a string.
“You see” — he approached the open window and set the bird loose — “she escaped…”
Without even a sigh, Vergil rose from his chair and went for the exit.
Startled by the loud footsteps, the mayor quickly turned around and exclaimed. “Wait!”
Vergil’s hand coiled around the doorknob.
“You made it clear that you don’t have a witch—”
“—so why should I even listen to you?”
“We know who helped her escape…”
Braithway knew that the full reward was off the table, but maybe he could salvage a lesser sum, if he provided him with a promising lead.
The bait worked, and Greymare veered away from the door, his eyes meeting that of Edgar’s.
The Glaive crossed his arms and relaxed his stance…
His kind were not known for their patience, so the mayor made himself brief.
“I hear the House of Grasses is good at finding things, correct?”
“All Glaives are adept trackers” — he scoffed — “though the House of Grasses excels in that particular field—”
He then arched him an eyebrow…
“—what are you getting at?”
“Maybe you’ll find something my men overlooked” — uttered Edgar — “discover where they went and where they might be heading…”
Vergil sighed beneath gritted teeth. “Where do I start…?”
<><><>
Back on Julia’s end.
Some time had passed since Ebonhearth went looking for the blond, her throat frayed from shouting his name.
“David!!!” She bellowed for the umpteen time.
“Over here, lass!”
The response stopped her dead in her tracks…
His voice came from behind a line of bushes, and Julia hurried to his location as soon as she recomposed herself.
There he was, knelt before what seemed to be a makeshift grave, his hands covered in dirt.
She peered over his shoulder…
“Sorry for the wait” — uttered the blond — “didn’t have a shovel, so I had to dig the hole with my hands.”
“You made a grave for him…?”
She knelt alongside him, and he answered her question with a silent nod before speaking…
“Johnathan was a dear friend and it be wrong if I didn’t offer him my respects—”
“—especially when it was his uniform that allowed me to save you.”
She looked down for a second, as if it’d help share the burden on her shoulders.
“When you put it that way—”
A patch of daisies caught her eyes when they lifted again, and Ebonhearth rose to approach them.
She knelt before the plants and one by one, snapped them from their stems. A small bouquet in hand, she made her way back to her friend and laid them upon Johnathan’s grave.
“—I should pay my respects, too…”
David smiled at her gesture and rose to his feet.
“We should probably head back to camp…”
The blond offered one final prayer in his memory and wandered off, and Julia clumsily did the same before following after him.
<><><>
Back in Solseed.
It was quiet in the local prison, as the guardsmen overseeing the day shift investigated Julia’s cell. They were the same pair from the prior evening, and the silence around them brought ease as they searched for clues.
“Any luck?” Inquired the first.
With a steel-plated hood in hand, his partner answered him.
“Found his helmet, but I doubt this will tell us where they’re going.”
“Keep looking—”
“—gotta be something here that’ll give us a—”
The door swung open, and it sent the headwear back to the ground.
They peered to the entrance, and spotted the mayor standing alongside a stranger garbed in black.
Yet the man’s eyes said all they needed to know…
He pointed to the cell where they stood. “This where you kept her?”
Edgar nod, then glanced at the pair…
“Stand aside you two and let the man do his job!”
They hurried out of the unit, and the Glaive waited for them to stand along the frame before entering.
“Cozy place you have here.”
He commented, to which Braithway sneered at his remark as he followed him into the cell.
“What else would you expect from a prison?”
“That wasn’t sarcasm—”
He crouched before the wooden pole at the back of the unit, his steel cladded fingers brushing its splintered riddled surface.
“—this place is way more comfy than what we got back at the keep.”
The mayor leaned against the wall and huffed.
Passing his fingertips through the soil, the Glaive muttered aloud as he pressed them to his nose. “A faint stench of alcohol…”
“Not surprising—”
Uttered the mayor as he retrieved his smoking pipe from his jacket, along with a match…
“—girl was doused in alcohol the night before…”
The man then pulled a severed piece of rope buried within the soil…
“You bound her to a pole with something as insignificant as this!?”
He kindled his match against the underside of his shoe.
“We injected her with some rather powerful sedatives as well, same stuff folks use for their cattle—”
He gritted the pipe beneath his teeth and continued.
“—had David not intervened, she wouldn’t have escaped…”
“Hmmm…”
His hellish eyes locked with Edgar’s as soon as he lit the baccy in the bowl of his pipe…
“Kindly put that out, will ya…”
“I beg your pardon!?”
“The stench of tobacco messes with my senses…”
The guards peeked in the cell, their hands inching down their waists to where their weapons rested.
Clutching the handle of their swords, they waited the outcome with bated breath…
Edgar bat his eyes as he extinguished the match, and tossed it aside.
“Whatever” — he stowed the pipe back in his coat — “if it helps with your job…”
The Glaive then rose to his feet and looked at the guards.
They quaked in their boots, but a nod of the mayor’s head, had their hands leave their blades.
“Did either of you find something that they might have left behind?”
He queried them both…
“W-well” — one of the guards picked up the helmet and entered the unit with care — “we found this laying around the cell…”
The Glaive held out his hand, to which the man gave him the armour piece, while making sure that their fingers didn’t touch.
Round and around, the wolfish fiend thoroughly analyzed the headgear. He sniffed at its metal plating and tugged at its leathery parts…
And whilst he did so, the three occupants glanced at each other with uncertain eyes and arched brows.
“Who’s Johnathan?” His voice recalled their attention.
The guardsmen opened their mouths to answer, but Braithway beat them to the punch.
“That traitorous bitch!”
He growled, his eyes twitching as he clenched the head of his cane…
“Come with me” — he exclaimed — “I know where to get answers!”
Fuming, he marched out of the prison without glancing back and left the men with the Glaive.
“Here” — he handed the helmet back to the guardsman — “won’t be needing this anymore…”
The poor bloke couldn’t do anything but nod, and watch as the freak followed after the mayor.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
With two to three heavy breaths, his colleague placed his hand upon his shoulder and it snapped him from his daze.
“That was…”
“Yeah” — the other guard nod along — “it was something, alright…”
<><><>
Back at the camp.
With their belongings stowed on their mount and the campsite torn down, David knelt by the kindled fire, the flames engulfing the garbs that the lass wore the night before.
“You ready to go?”
Julia queried, her voice catching his attention as she passed her fingers through the horse’s mane.
The blond glanced back to the blaze, and noticed that the fabrics had become one with the embers.
“Yeah” — he answered — “just need to put this out real quick…”
He rose to his feet and kicked some dirt on the fire. A cloud of smoke erupted from the cinders once the flames had been extinguished.
“Let’s get moving” — David started towards her — “still have a long road ahead of us…”
His foot on a stirrup, he climbed the mount and pulled her up behind him, to which Ebonhearth then queried.
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going…”
“We’re” — he steered the horse to the forest trail ahead — “going to stay with my younger sister in Fairen…”
“Wait” — Julia gasped — “you have a sister!?”
“Surprise!”
The blond grinned as they rode along the path, leaves crunching beneath the horse’s hooves.
An awkward silence befell them, in which she changed her positions several times against his back…
“Uhmm” — Ebonhearth uttered — “so what’s her name?”
Reluctant at first, he peered over his shoulder and met the corner of her eyes.
“Elisabeth…”
“Are you two close?”
“It’s complicated” — David let out a sigh — “and I’d rather evade the subject for the time being…”
“I see” — she lowered her head in shame — “sorry for being nosy…”
“It’s fine” — the blond answered — “now hang on to me!”
She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. With three soft kicks to its flanks, their mount went from trot to sprint, and like the wind, they had left the forest and regained the main road to the capital city.
<><><>
Solseed village, not too long after.
Vergil strolled the village streets by the mayor’s side, as the old kook marched with his cane in hand, a flurry of curses beneath his breath.
Yet, he had seen people angered over less, thus chose to pay the random slurs no mind.
Soon, they stopped before a locked door, and Edgar began hammering at it.
“Abigail” — he bellowed in all his boiling wrath — “I know you’re in there!”
And when no response came, he tried the handle with no luck.
“Damn it” — Braithway yelled again — “when I get in there…!”
Vergil crossed his arms. “What about your skeleton key?”
“To hell with a key!”
In his fury, the mayor drew his pistol from his coat and shot the lock, before taking a step back and kicking the door open, his voice booming within the building.
“Show yourself, you traitorous bitch!”
Yet they were met with dead silence.
“Fuck” — Edgar kicked a nearby stool — “she skipped town!”
“No—”
Greymare carefully pressed forward, his weapon hand floating over the handle of his sword.
“—I highly doubt that…”
He made his way towards a closet beneath the staircase, and a muffled sound caught his ears…
Easing his weapon arm, he knelt before the door and closed his eyes.
A suppressed breath caught his heighten hearing and he opened the compartment in a flash, ripping out whoever hid within.
He gripped the figure—a woman—by the throat and arm and let her frightened eyes lock with his.
“This our gal?” He queried, his glare never once straying from hers…
“That’s her alright!”
Edgar approached them, and Vergil delayed, until her frown met the mayor’s.
The first thing he saw was the pistol he brandished, and the second, his irritated gaze.
“What’s the meaning of this” — exclaimed Abigail — “have you gone insane, Edgar!?”
“Don’t play dumb with me” — he snarled at her words — “you know exactly what this is about!”
Knowing that this was their query, he released her and moved aside once she got on her feet.
She did not cough, nor did she rub her neck.
“You gave your husband’s uniform to David, knowing he’d help that witch escape!”
A droplet of sweat rolled down the side of her head.
“Is that what this is all about” — she stated — “yes, I gave him Johnathan’s uniform as an inheritance—”
Abigail shifted her stance and crossed her arms.
“—how was I to know he would use it for that!?”
“That’s a lie—”
Vergil interjected, and she turned around to meet his eyes.
“—or at the very least, a half-truth…”
She didn’t take the bait, and refused to say another word beyond his wild assertions.
“Wanna learn how I know that—”
No response as he approached her with slow, deliberate strides.
“—your breath hitched, and your heartrate increased…”
And when Greymare stood right before her, Abigail hard swallowed.
“So” — he narrowed his eyes — “tell us the truth…”
She bit her lip, the fear in her eyes speaking volumes as he heard the wild thumps of her heart with his heighten hearing…
“I” — Abigail caved in — “I didn’t directly tell him to use it for that…”
Vergil crossed his arms and loosened the gap between them.
“But” — her voice faltered — “deep down, I wanted him to aid her…”
She left pause, and silence filled the room, until she shattered it with the following confession.
“Julia saved us from that beast, and we’d all be dead had it not been for her bravery—”
Her eyes shifted to Edgar, and Greymare saw the bitterness in them.
“—and I’m not the only one who thinks that, Braithway…”
“She’s a fucking witch, Abigail” — the mayor barked back — “those vile wretches are just as dangerous as any monster, if not more!”
“She saved our lives!”
“That doesn’t change her nature!”
“Edgar, you can’t blame her for—”
“Stop defending that—”
“Enough!” Vergil raised his voice, and it thundered across the room.
He heard shivers rushing up their spines, and took a moment to shift his gaze from a pair of eyes to another.
Yet he settled them on Abigail, to ask another question…
“Did the accomplice at least say where they were going?”
“N-no” — she gulped and shook her head — “he didn’t tell…”
“And you really expect us to believe that!?”
Growled Edgar, a clear sign of his distrust towards her every word…
Greymare then closed his eyes and sharpened his hearing, yet found nothing wrong with her heartrate and breathing.
“She’s telling the truth…”
An indignant huff fled the mayor’s lips.
Ignoring his antics, Vergil reopened them and tilted his head to peer at the top of the stairs.
“Quit skulking in the shadows, kid” — he stated — “I knew you were up there long before I discovered your mother…”
A pair of eyes enlarged from behind the railing and both Abigail and Edgar veered their sights towards the staircase.
“Benjamin” — her voice trembled as her son started down the stairs — “I told you to stay hidden!”
“I-I was scared, mommy…” Uttered the child with a tremulous voice.
“Oh Ben…” She rolled the lone syllable of his nickname.
Vergil uncrossed his arms and waited until the boy reached the foot of the stairs to approach him…
In a flash, Abigail leapt in front of her child, arms stretched out wide, as if she were a living shield.
“Leave my son out of this!”
Gun loaded, Edgar pulled back the hammer of his firearm and aimed straight for her head.
“Stand aside Abigail!”
The woman grit her teeth and moved forward, but stopped midway.
He slightly pressed on the trigger, yet not enough for the shot to fire.
“Final warning—”
“—don’t make me do something you’ll regret!”
Vergil side-eyed Braithway, yet ignored their quarrel as he marched past the mother and approached the child.
He knelt to meet Ben’s eyes…
‘Sadness’ — Greymare thought while searching his eyes — ‘loss…’
Benjamin grit his teeth.
‘And anger—’
“—you know something, don’t you?”
Said Vergil, his tone never changing throughout his interrogation…
Yet all the boy offered in response was a nod.
“And what exactly do you know?”
“I-if I tell you” — Benjamin’s voice cracked — “promise that you and Mr. Braithway won’t hurt mommy…?”
“You have my word…”
Uttered the Glaive in the softest tone he could manage.
He didn’t have to glance back at Edgar to know he had complied, the holstering of his pistol a dead giveaway.
“Tell me what you know, kid…”
“David said he has a sister, and that him and Madame Julia are going to stay with her…”
“And do you know where his sister lives?”
Ben shook his head…
Vergil rolled his eyes and let silence befall them. The child squirmed below his gaze, yet never once broke eye contact with him.
Quick to take his leave, Greymare rose to his feet with a sigh beneath his breath as he went for the door…
“What a waste of time…”
The sun welcomed his eyes once he stepped outside, and he averted them to notice a crowd hurrying towards Abigail’s home.
‘They probably heard the gunshot…’
He thought while marching through the masses, indifferent of who’s shoulder he bumped along the way.
Words uttered with sorrow caught his heightened hearing and were he normal, he’d probably feel some sense of guilt…
“I wish daddy was alive” — cried the boy — “he would’ve protected us from that bad man, and I wouldn’t have told him David’s secret!”
“Shhhhh” — his mother soothed — “it wasn’t your fault, my child…”
Apathetic to both grieving mother and son, Greymare kept walking.
A street block…
A single street block of delightful silence was all he managed, before Edgar’s voice assaulted his ears.
“Wait” — hollered the old fool — “please!”
In a flash, Vergil drew his greatsword from the scabbard on his back with but one hand—its sharpened edge aimed at the mayor’s throat.
Yet he drew no blood…
Braithway steadily raised his hands in submission, almost dropping his cane in the process.
“You annoy me, old man…”
Even with a loaded pistol, this old kook didn’t stand a chance against him in one-on-one combat.
Just a little more pressure, and he’d cut his breathing circulation.
Yet maybe his hands would send a better message…
Wouldn’t be the first time he’d crushed someone’s skull.
“Fairen…”
Spoke the mayor, his lone word halting Greymare’s train of thought for but an instant.
“I beg your pardon?” Vergil arched an eyebrow.
“The sister the kid mentioned—”
“—she lives in Fairen and that’s where they’re going…”
He lowered his weapon and sheathed it on his back.
“Make it quick” — said the Glaive — “you’ve already wasted enough of my time as it is…”
Edgar stowed his gun beneath his coat, and retrieved a small trinket from his pockets.
He approached him and placed the bauble in his hand.
“A locket…?” Vergil opened it.
Beneath its cracked glass, he saw what appeared to be a photograph of two siblings—a boy and a girl…
“Her name is Elisabeth Brocksteel, and the young man next to her is the accomplice you’re looking for—”
“—it’s been twelve hours since the witch and the boy fled the village and they won’t stay in Fairen for long, if that’s where they’re going.”
Greymare let out a sigh, sealed the locket and lined it within his coat.
“You seem to know quite a lot about this guy's personal affairs—”
“—anything else you aren’t telling me?”
“Nothing that’d be of any use to you, alas.”
His arms crossed, he hummed at the mayor’s half-hearted response.
“If you say so, old timer—”
This sorry excuse of a leader had pretty much lost what little respect he had for him…
“—there’s one more thing I’d like to check, before leaving…”
“And what would that be?”
“That woman mentioned a monster…”
“What about it…?”
“I’d like to analyze the remains, if you haven’t yet disposed of them.”
“O-of course” — Braithway cleared his throat — “right this way!”
<><><>
It wasn’t long before Vergil and the mayor reached the dig site close to the western outskirts of the village, just outside Valmeri.
The people of Solseed had finished digging a ditch for the creature’s remains, and had already thrown them in—an exhaustive nine-man task.
“How are things looking here!?”
Stated Edgar as he and the Glaive approached the lot.
They veered their attention from their task, and spotted them in the distance.
“Hello sir” — said one of the workers — “we were just about to—”
The man cut himself short when he found Greymare’s demonic eyes.
“Don’t mind me” — grunted Vergil — “carry on…”
“Well” — he veered his attention back to the mayor — “we were just about to bury this thing…”
“Excellent!” Stated Braithway.
The worker waved for them to follow, and they approached the hole where the monster’s remains rested.
“Good work everyone” — stated Edgar — “you fellas take a well deserved break while the gentleman here does his job!”
His words caught their attention, but their hopeful faces changed to snarling frowns upon seeing the Glaive.
They held back their words, though that didn’t stop them from glaring daggers at him as they marched out of the pit…
“Damn freak…!” Murmured one of the villagers.
He heard him loud and clear, but disregarded his words to descend within the ditch, small chunks of dirt rolling beneath his boots as he stood before the monster’s carcass.
‘Interesting’ — he stooped before the scorched remains — ‘too large to be a ghoul, but also too small to be an ogre—’
He poked the corpse.
‘—a troll, perhaps?’
A half sigh, half groan escaped his lungs, as he did his best to inspect the cadaver, in the hopes of uncovering something useful.
‘Nah, horns don’t match and the skull is too humanoid…’
With a push, Vergil forced a charred limb aside, and its severed head fell from the safety of its arm.
Lightning shot through his veins…
“Well, I’ll be damned…”
“Something the matter?” Braithway inquired from beyond the ditch, as the Glaive rose to his feet…
“You people are lucky to still be alive—”
Murmurs broke out amid the crowd, and he heard the mayor’s well-hidden gasp.
“—most folks don’t encounter a Bloodspawn and live to tell.”
“So” — Edgar swallowed — “it’s not a common beast, then?”
“Quite rare in fact, especially one of this magnitude…”
Marching out of the pit, Greymare reached within his coat, retrieved a heavy coin purse and lobbed it at the mayor.
Braithway fumbled the catch, yet successfully caught it regardless…
“Judging by the size” — he eyed the corpse — “at least seven witches were involved in the summoning ritual—”
With a whistle, he walked past the lot and awaited his mount, who’s neighs already reached his ears despite its distance.
“—the Bloodspawn is the sole reason why I’m even paying at all…”
“Surely a lead like this merits a greater reward?” Uttered the mayor.
Wrath burst through the Glaive’s veins, and he paused his footsteps. He transferred all his anger into his right arm, and delivered a heavy punch against the nearest tree.
The flora shook as its leaves fell to the ground and its bark fractured open with the sheer strength of the impact.
Vergil darted his sights at Braithway, and it cut straight into his soul.
“Don’t push your luck, old kook…”
He retracted his fist from the oak, a massive crack left in its lumber…
From the startled villagers to a horror-stricken mayor, no one dared to move, their fear a stench to his nose…
Yet before they could intervene—if they even would—a loud neigh caught their ears, and Greymare’s horse galloped towards him, until it halted before his frame.
He stroked the side of its neck, before hoisting himself on the saddle and straddling the stallion’s back.
Never once gazing back at the sorry bunch, Vergil steered his mount northward and kicked it in the flanks. It reared upwards before running off to Fairen, like fierce winds during a storm.
‘Time to hunt…’
<><><>
Several hours later, at sundown.
With an orange-tinted sun in the western horizon, Julia strode alone through a forest with an armful of twigs. She had been out gathering firewood for at least an hour, and had distanced herself from camp.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have ventured so far out, but David’s nonchalant attitude kinda got on her nerves.
‘This should be enough…’ She eyed her findings.
Ebonhearth started towards camp, the aroma of pines caressing her nostrils as she observed the falling leaves.
‘Not that different from back home, but still a little out of—’
A loud caw penetrated her ears, and she dropped all the timber near her feet…
Mouth dry as sun-heated sand, Julia inched her eyes to a tree branch at her back and froze…
That same crow she had encountered in Valmeri and during the festival, laid perched upon it.
It pecked at its talons, and tangled around its other leg, was a strand of pink hair, hers…
With a hop to adjust its position, it unleashed another caw, and Julia swore she felt the wind shift directions.
‘Am I going crazy…?’
Ebonhearth shut her eyes so firmly, that the last rays of sunlight had difficulty reaching her irises.
Her heart pulsing within her chest, Julia counted to five beneath her breath and fought against herself to reopen them…
Anxiety shot through her veins when she finally did: the crow hadn’t disappeared from her sight.
It cawed again and flew onto another branch.
‘Shit—’
A quick look over her shoulder sent a new fear burning in her veins.
‘—David!’
He was alone and at risk from whatever creature might be lurking…
If she used her blood and rushed back there, then the crow wouldn’t be able to keep up, and they both be able to escape before whatever beast appeared.
‘No’ — she swallowed a dry gulp — ‘if there’s a new creature lurking about—’
‘—I’ll deal with it here and now…’
The crow cawed once more and soared onto a different tree and this time, Ebonhearth followed after it.
<><><>
Night had fallen…
The damn night had fallen, and Julia was still chasing after this bird!
In the sky, the stars mocked her with their lights, forever powerless to luminate her path.
Few and far between, the patches of moonlight served as makeshift beacons in the darkness. But if she squinted enough, she could make out the scary glint of the crow’s eyes, observing her at all times from the shadows.
“Ouch!”
Something grazed against her leg amidst the darkness, a thorn bush, and the briars drew blood…
Hand upon her bleeding shin, Ebonhearth realized that the bird had vanished.
Yet she still felt its sinister gaze upon her…
A cold sweat pricked at her skin, and it sent tremors down her spine.
How could she have been so stupid!
Fighting a monster…
In the dark…
Alone…
She was going to die!
A heavy gasp fled her lungs, and Ebonhearth felt her world spin…
And when pain began mounting within her chest, she tried to regain her composure, and used a nearby tree to hold herself up.
“What” — she gagged on the dryness of her mouth — “happened!?”
Her hands shuddered as Julia palmed her face, but whatever devilry had befell her was over and done with…
Taking a deep breath for good measures, she scanned her surroundings once more.
‘Which way did I come from!?’ She winced…
A solitary female voice reached her ears, and it froze her very core.
It hummed a somber melody, one which strangely enough, sounded all too familiar.
She had heard it somewhere before…
But where exactly?
Ebonhearth didn’t know…
It echoed throughout the forest, as if bouncing from tree to tree, and Julia wet her lips…
Her legs trembled, but she forced them forward with whatever willpower she had left.
Step by step, she slowly neared the voice, and a beacon of moonlight soon caught her eyes in the distance. It shone upon a woman’s form, who sat on a boulder, glancing up at the night sky.
The tune haunted her soul louder and louder as she approached her, and once Julia finally got to the clearing, the crow swept down from the trees and perched itself on the woman’s shoulder.
With a hand, the eerie figure caressed the bird’s back, and it flapped its wings, before rubbing its head against its owner.
She reached the light and the humming disappeared.
“Ahh… There you are—”
Uttered the woman, a familiar dryness to her tone.
“—I knew my little dove would lead you to me…”
One of her ethereal eyes slithered down to meet Julia’s, and a heartbeat later, the other one followed.
“B-Beatrice!”
Wrath ate what lingered of her fear, and she clenched her hands into fists with gritted teeth.
“You’re the one who sent that beast to attack Solseed, aren’t you!?”
“A little quick in your accusations, are you not…?”
“Answer me, you wretch!”
“Sooner or later” — Ravencroft got off the boulder — “you will meet your end by your temper’s blade.”
The crow cawed twice and soared off its master’s shoulder, and Julia wanted to believe that it did so out of fear.
But she knew better than that…
“Alas” — spoke the crone — “this time you are correct. I summoned that beast and had it attack that miserable village.”
Julia screamed at her from the same strength in which she clenched her teeth.
“Do you have any idea how many innocent people lost their lives for you to what; Show Off Your Powers And—”
“Expose you—”
Beatrice slant her head with an eerie crack and snickered.
“—is it not still too early to make yourself the centre of things?”
“The hell did you say!?”
“Pretend you despise me in their favour all you want, but I know the truth, what you really are…”
The woman stepped closer…
“Had they not betrayed you, would you really have sought me out?”
“Or fearing the truth, would you have grieved with them—”
“—shed false tears and feign ignorance as to why the beast ate their families, why it mauled their friends?”
She stopped but a few feet from where Julia stood…
“How long would you lie to them, before guilt shriveled you away?”
“Don’t you dare” — Ebonhearth burst forth with anger — “don’t you dare try guilt tripping me—”
“—I gave up everything for them, and that was my choice!”
“Of course it was…”
Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze met that of the crone’s.
“Those poor souls meant nothing to me” — Ravencroft snickered — “what I was curious about is how you would react—”
Julia’s eyes twitched with subdued wrath.
“—Ebonhearth, you were the centre of it all!”
The bone-chilling words crawled down her spine, and left shock and horror in their wake.
She had heard enough!
Her hate lit ablaze within her heart, and its flames engulfed the very terror from her veins, blood slithering down her left leg.
“You’ll pay for what you’ve done!”
Biting through the skin between her index and thumb, blood spilled from her hand and she formed a sphere with it.
In a flash, Beatrice sealed the gap and clutched Julia’s bleeding palm within her own.
She raised their joint hands above their heads, the sphere shattering between their palms as blood slithered down their arms.
“What makes you think you’re a match for me?”
Uttered the crone with a grin.
The putrid stench of rot assaulted Julia’s nostrils, and she fought the urge to gag.
Liquid heat swept down her right leg and Ebonhearth smirked.
The old hag slant her head, a semi-perplexed expression on her face.
And with a swift move, Julia kicked her bruised leg upward and sent a new torrent of blood at the crone’s eyes.
A twisted sense of satisfaction nested itself in her chest as it neared the other’s head…
She’d rid the world of that disgusting wretch, once and for all!
Just like she should’ve done when they first encountered back at her mother’s gr—
Her blood abruptly stopped in the air, less than an inch from impact, and her grin vanished.
Beatrice didn’t even flinch, and Julia darted downwards to see if her fingers had moved.
Surely enough, they had…
“Carmela’s old trick” — uttered the hag — “the correct idea, yet—”
Her attack slithered in her other hand in the form of a scarlet thread, and the crone crushed it like liquid dirt within her palm.
“—not good enough…”
Twirling her wrist, Ravencroft spun the bloody strand into a marble sized blob at the tip of her index.
“Do try to impress next time…”
She flicked the tiny orb.
The counterattack struck Julia’s abdomen like a canon ball. It forced all the air from her lungs and sent her flying through the meadow at breakneck speed.
Her world spun as grass, stones and dirt carved their way inside her skin, and she eventually struck something hard as pain shot through her body.
Ear piercing screams rung through the membrane of her eardrums, and only when her ribs stopped trying to stab at her lungs, did Julia realize—they were hers.
Ebonhearth then opened her eyes…
They met the moon within the sky, clouds slowly consuming its light as dread filled her soul.
Warmth spread down her forehead and she battled against her own limbs to pull out the stick lodged in there.
She ripped it out with a painful grunt, fingers tarnished with blood…
With a deep breath, she sought to stand, yet collapsed as soon as she got on her knees.
Back pressed against what felt like a boulder, Julia sat against it with her arm cradled around her stomach.
She swept her eyes across the meadow…
They narrowed onto the grassless trail her body had left behind, yet she didn’t see Beatrice anywhere.
‘It’s alright’ — Julia gulped with relief — ‘she’s gone…’
Anguish still shot through her ribs but nonetheless, she managed to get back on her feet.
She just needed to—
A red fog reeled in front of her and the crone’s hand tore through it.
She seized Julia’s face and gagged her mouth against the coldness of her palm, the remainder of her form slowly materializing before her fear stricken eyes.
And she shrieked, her voice muffled against Ravencroft’s firm grasp.
“Foolish girl—”
She sent her back against the rock with a light thrust. Julia’s wounds pained as one, when she sought to defend herself with the blood she had spilled.
But Beatrice’s other hand shot upwards and coiled itself around her throat.
It lifted her off the ground like a weightless plume.
She squirmed and kicked in an attempt to break free, but the fingers tightened more and more until Ebonhearth could no longer breathe.
“—you still have much to learn…”
With a panicked gasp, she felt her body go limp in the witch’s chokehold. Her vision hazed and Julia couldn’t differentiate the night from the darkness within her mind.
‘I don’t wanna die’ — Ebonhearth fought to keep her eyes open — ‘I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die!! I don’t wanna die!!!’
Yet despite her most valiant effort, her consciousness faded and she ultimately met the dark…
<><><>
A jumble of incoherent thoughts raced through Julia’s mind, and she winced against the migraine they caused.
White spots burnt in her closed eyes, and she groaned, the iron taste of blood flooding her mouth.
She turned herself on her back and her ribs strained below her skin.
They grazed her insides, and Ebonhearth fought the urge to scream.
A voice yelled something at her side, yet she couldn’t make out what it tried to say.
It was as if her whole body sank towards the ocean bedrock and that her lungs were filled with maritime water.
But oceans aren’t supposed to be warm…
So why did it feel like she was burning?
“Lass…!?”
That damn voice again.
Something damp came in contact with her forehead, and Julia finally opened her eyes…
She sat up immediately—back cracking at her speed—and the thing fell from her head and onto her lap.
The hoots of an owl reached her ears, and the haze left her sights…
Looking up, she found David’s wide-eyed stare.
“Lass” — stated the blond from where he knelt — “you’re alright!”
“D-David…?”
She moaned and tried to sit up but didn’t have the strength to do so.
“Easy there” — Brocksteel helped her up — “how are you feeling?”
“Like crap…”
“Where does it hurt?”
“My ribs, mostly—”
Julia pressed her hand against her abdomen.
“—how long have I been out for?”
“A few hours, at least…”
David took another rag from the water bowl beside him and handed it to Ebonhearth.
“What happened to you—”
Her throat tightened, but she forced the bile down with a dry guzzle.
“—were you attacked by something?” He queried her once more.
But when no answer came, David mistook her silence for avoidance.
“You were inside a giant crater!”
Her eyes widened, and Julia abruptly grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Did that woman hurt you!?”
“What woman” — he pulled away — “you sure you’re alright?”
Ebonhearth let her hands fall upon her lap, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“I know who was behind the attack on Solseed…”
The blond arched an eyebrow, but nonetheless, sat down next to her and heed her next words very carefully.
She had his undivided attention…
Once her explanations were out of the way, they sat by the campfire.
Her ribs still hurt like crazy but she was at least able to move around freely on her own now.
“But why—”
Stated Brocksteel with gritted teeth and tightened fists.
“—why would this Beatrice woman do something like that!?”
“I don’t know” — Julia glanced at him with anger burning in her eyes — “but I’ll make her pay for what she’s done…!”
Yet his furious expression returned to normal so fast, that she doubt she ever saw it or that it even happened at all.
‘What was that all about?’
She opened her mouth to voice her thoughts, but David cut her short before she could even speak.
“I’ll gladly help you seek justice, if that’s what you want?”
Brocksteel placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Thank you” — Ebonhearth left pause — “for everything…”
Their eyes locked for a moment too long and their cheeks went red.
“A-anyways” — the blond rose to his feet, then moved to his bedroll — “we’re leaving first thing come morning—”
He laid down in it with a half-hearted chuckle.
“—s-so best if we both got some rest.”
He tucked himself in with grunts and groans and she eyed his movements until only his head poked out.
“Goodnight, lass…”
She shifted in place, and her ribs sent a jolt of pain through her body.
“Y-yeah” — she stuttered — “goodnight…”
Julia laid down in her bedroll and closed her eyes, yet forced herself to remain silent as she tucked herself in.
No need to disturb him with her discomfort. Especially not after that awkward exchange…
‘Ouch’ — she winced — ‘gonna be a rough night…’
<><><>
The following day, at dawn.
Morning had broke in the woods and the young duo were disassembling camp. They did so in complete quietness, the sound of chirping birds the only thing they heard.
The silence flustered Ebonhearth, as she then bit her lip…
“Uhmm… That sister of yours” — Julia uttered with hesitance in her voice — “is she pretty?”
In process of stowing their belongings onto the horse, David glanced at her and arched an eyebrow.
Cheeks burning, she frantically swerved her hands around and doubled back on her words.
“I’m sorry, forget that I—”
“Guess I could always show you a picture of her…”
“Really!?”
“Sure, why not…”
Excitement bubbling inside her, Ebonhearth had to force herself not to jump around like a little kid.
She wondered how much they looked alike, and whether his sister’s eyes held the same gorgeous green as his.
“Where the hell is it!?”
His groan crashed her back to reality. She noticed how he turned his pockets inside out and hastily kept passing his hands on his clothes.
Spooked by his wrath, the horse let out a neigh and readied itself for a kick. In an attempt to calm it down, Julia stepped forward and gently caressed its muzzle.
“Easy boy, easy…”
“Fucking shit” — David kicked a nearby stone — “it was part of a set I bought for us before—”
The mount calmed down, and she proceeded to check what weighed on her friend’s nerves.
“What’s the matter?”
“I lost it” — Brocksteel shook his head — “damn thing must’ve fallen out of my pocket at some point!”
Julia accosted him from behind and placed her hand on his shoulder.
“What exactly did you lose?”
“A locket” — he turned around to meet her — “one that held a photo of my sister and me…”
She understood his frustration, and how a charm like that mattered. If Julia had a photograph of her mother, she’d never want to lose it…
But David’s sister wasn’t her mother.
Nor was she dead.
“Relax, David…”
She sought to make her voice as soothing as possible, and if his protracted sigh wasn’t indication enough, she had managed to calm him down.
“Tell you what” — Ebonhearth wrapped her arm around his shoulder — “we’ll take an even better one, once we’ve met her in Fairen!”
David closed his eyes and smiled at the sight of her comforting grin.
“Yeah” — uttered Brocksteel — “let’s do that…”
<><><>
Several hours later.
As they rode across the lush plains of Astrela, wind blowing through their hair, Ebonhearth saw an immense man-made construct ahead.
It consisted of a giant stone wall, encircled by a massive body of water. And from the high ground their horse passed over, she could see the grand palace inside the city.
“David” — she pointed over his shoulder — “up ahead!”
“I see it” — the blond stated — “we’re almost there!”
They eventually entered the far-reaching shadows cast by the outer walls and spotted a lowered drawbridge in the distance. A lineup of carts trailed ahead of them and a platoon of guards oversaw to their inspection.
“Welcome to Fairen, lass!”
Julia took in the scenery with awe, yet couldn’t help but feel a homesick pang tugging at her heart.
She closed her eyes and did her best to concentrate on the delicious aroma of food from the carriage in front of them.
“Guess we have to wait…” Said David as he stopped the horse in line.
Perhaps her mind was more scrambled than she believed, or maybe she just got lost in her train of thought, but when Julia reopened her eyes, it was already their turn.
The blond trotted their mount towards the blockade until one of the guards walked forward and halted them. He held a sheet of paper in one hand and a quill in the other.
“State your name and business.”
David took the lead. “Brocksteel, David, here to visit a relative.”
Eyes zeroed on the parchment, the guardsman wrote all of it down.
He then veered his attention to Julia. “And you? Name and business.”
“Ebonhearth, Julia, and I’m with him.”
A few strokes of the quill later, the man looked to his colleagues and signalled them over to the horse.
Two guardsmen broke away from the platoon behind him and went to look through their belongings.
They rustled through their saddlebags, and when the noise grew too loud, Ebonhearth firmly tightened her grasp against David’s clothes.
Julia fought the urge to bite her lips, but when the first guard pat the horse, she let out a deep breath filled with relief.
“These two are clear.” Stated the first of the guardsmen.
“No contraband.” The other added as they returned to their posts.
The guard with the quill then looked to David and Julia.
“Stay out of trouble” — he stepped aside — “now move along.”
Trotting their horse forward, the blond offered him a smile and nod.
“We’ll keep that in mind, sir guard!”
And just like that, all the stress left Ebonhearth’s shoulders at once.
They were finally safe!
<><><>
David and Julia trotted through the bustling capital, shops and stalls dictating every street corner, and Brocksteel wasn’t surprised when he spotted the glitter in her eyes as they drifted from place to place, then from face to face.
Wide-eyed, she gasped when a short man with a beard and a woman with pointy ears passed their horse.
“There are elves and dwarves living in Fairen, too!?”
“Yeah” — uttered the blond, his eyes veering back to the road ahead — “as long as they follow the domain’s rules, all races are welcomed in Fairen.”
“Their cultures and ideals are so different, though!”
“If they’re okay with living amongst men, then chances are their societies aren’t all that accommodating towards their personal beliefs and lifestyles… Besides—”
He frowned, reflecting on how to better phrase his next words.
“—relations between the elven and dwarven kingdoms have greatly improved, ever since the Glaremori covenant fell.”
“Because they’ve had a common enemy ever since—”
Julia pressed her head against his back.
“—that being witches…”
Wincing, he held his tongue and bit his lip, until the incoherent ramblings of the masses and the clattering of their mount’s hooves were the only things they heard.
Perhaps mentioning that wasn’t such a good idea…
“I’m sorry” — uttered David once the silence grew too much to bear — “shouldn’t have brought that up…”
“It’s fine” — Ebonhearth’s voice cracked — “I know our history…”
They continued ahead with a tense mood looming over their heads. It set an obscured weight on their shoulders and ruined any attempt at small talk they tried to create.
Which is why, once Brocksteel saw a line of outdoor stalls up ahead, he didn’t lose the occasion to guide their horse to a hitching rail near them.
He dismounted first, then helped her off the mount.
“Need some help with that?” Julia pointed to the ropes.
“Nah” — answered the blond — “I’ll meet you over by the booths.”
With a nod, she left him to his own and David let out a sigh of relief…
“Rough day, huh buddy” — he pat the stallion’s muzzle — “we’ll find you some treats later…”
It bobbed its head and snorted, to which the blond couldn’t help but chuckle at its timing.
Fastening the ropes, David spared one last glance at their mount before he too, left for the array of kiosks.
A tiny crowd of people gathered to browse the wares on display and he tuned out their indistinct chatter to search for the lass.
When he didn’t spot her immediately, he groaned to himself and approached the nearest booth instead.
‘She’s probably looking at a different stall—’
The blond shrugged while thinking to himself.
‘—she’ll be back soon…’
His search for something interesting led him to a book stand. There, he found a couple of titles he knew were meant for adults, a children novel, some weird cover arts and—
“The hell?” The blond muttered aloud and grabbed one of the books.
The cover art portrayed young adults wearing bizarre outfits, which somehow shared an odd resemblance to those garnished by nobles.
However, the outlandish designs made it very clear, that no lord nor lady would be caught dead wearing such things.
“Student Union…?”
He whispered its title aloud…
David then opened the tome and flipped through some of its pages.
‘Wonder if sis reads this type of thing—’
Huffing to himself, he closed the book and stored it back in its place.
‘—not like I have money to spare right now, anyway…’
Suddenly, Brocksteel felt his stomach drop…
He had entirely forgotten about the lass while he browsed the stalls!
With a frown, he glanced around over and over, yet couldn’t find her anywhere at all.
“Lass—”
He hollered but was met with no response, not even a sound amidst the crowd.
“—where are you!?”
Chill crawled through his veins as he approached the shopkeeper in a flash, ignoring the weird looks he received from the other patrons.
“Did you see where my friend went!?”
The man shook his head.
But Brocksteel insisted, thus, began describing Julia in more detail…
“She has pink hair, wears a short white dress and has a crown made of roses on her head and—”
“Check the other booths” — the merchant scoffed — “don’t got time to help you out, kid.”
The blond let out a drawn-out sigh.
‘Damn it lass’ — he thought — ‘can’t make my life easy for a change!?’
Nodding to the shopkeeper, David stepped away from the stand and readied himself for the headache that was going to be; Searching For The Lass In This Godforsaken City.
<><><>
Meanwhile, on Julia’s end.
Mouth watering, Ebonhearth had her face glued against the window of a bakery. She eyed the sweets within and their sugary scent made her stomach growl.
The pastries ensnared her completely, and she wetted her lips at the mere sight of them.
“Anything catch your fancy, Madame?” Uttered a nearby voice.
It snapped her back to reality and Julia quickly glanced to its source. Her eyes met the large frame of a man in a chef’s uniform—standing before the shop’s entrance.
“Your cupcakes look delicious!” She pointed to a platter on display…
“They are, and inexpensive, too!”
“How much?”
The man cracked her a massive smile. “Five coppers per cupcake!”
“Sounds like a good—”
Groaning out loud, she facepalmed herself upon reaching within her absent satchel.
“Damn it” — she said — “I left all our money with my friend and—”
“So, you’re as broke as a joke…?”
The baker’s welcoming beam transformed into a nonchalant frown.
“I-I mean…”
“Look here lady, if you ain’t got no money, then quit loitering around my shop and beat it!”
“But—”
“Did I stutter” — he shouted from the top of his lungs — “get lost!!!”
Julia jumped out of her skin and hightailed out of there before things got any worse.
<><><>
Out of breath from all the running, Ebonhearth found herself within a segregated part of town, where the streets were silent and nobody lingered.
“Great” — she huffed at her lost bearings — “how am I meant to find my way back now!?”
Her first instinct was to shout for David and hope he’d answer back.
But before Julia could call out his name, a woman’s screams reached her ears…
“Someone help” — cried the voice from an adjacent alleyway — “I’m being assaulted!”
Without a second thought, Ebonhearth hurried to its source.
She peered the corner, and saw three men harassing a lass of blonde locks and eyes of green.
One of the thugs held her arms behind her back while he pinned her face against the wall.
With a frown, Julia kept herself hidden from the commotion—wanting to understand what it was about first.
“Unhand me” — she exclaimed with gritted teeth — “you animals!”
“Come on, babe” — said the man that held her in place — “stop playing hard to get!”
“Yeah” — the second brute added — “make it easier for yourself and show us a good time!”
The blonde glared daggers into their eyes.
“I’d rather die than put out for you filthy pigs!”
With a crooked grin, her restrainer looked at his friends.
“Hear that boys” — he mockingly stated — “woman likes it rough!”
The leader spun her around and snatched the fabrics concealing her cleavage, as if to rip them off.
Julia had seen enough.
She marched inside the alleyway, her footsteps alerting the thugs to her presence.
“Hey” — Ebonhearth exclaimed — “leave her alone!”
They all veered their attention straight at her, the blonde included…
“Well, well, well—”
Spoke the leader as he threw the woman aside and approached Julia with a malicious grin, his goons not far behind.
“—looks like we got ourselves a hero!”
They stood before her and surely enough, she found herself trapped in a similar fashion to the girl.
Yet Julia stayed calm and didn’t struggle. She was more than capable of fending them off with her powers if need be.
“Tell you what, wench…”
He smirked, hand pressed against the wall as he leaned into her personal space in an aggressive, yet coquettish fashion.
The man was close enough for her to smell his putrid breath and see his yellowed teeth.
“If you show us a good enough time, we’ll let this one go, but scream or bite—”
He drew a knife from his belt and the blonde sought to make a break for it but was grabbed by the wrist and held in a stranglehold by the third goon.
“—and we’ll gut you like a fish…”
Yet before she could answer, let alone degrade herself for these lowlifes, a voice hollered from beyond the alley.
“Hey fellas!”
All sights zeroed towards its source, where a wayward woman with short raven black hair and steel blue eyes stood, a shortsword at her waist.
“You see and forget a thousand things everyday… So tell me—”
She crossed her arms, while pointing to both Julia and the other girl.
“—these lasses really worth remembering?”
The three men sneered and freed the girls to approached the rogue.
“And who the fuck are you, exactly!?”
She recovered a shiny trinket from her pockets, a golden badge with a leaf engraved from the finest rubies on its forefront.
The goons nearly leapt out of their skins upon setting eyes on it.
“Someone whose advice you might want to take seriously…”
The rogue glared them down with a bone-chilling scowl and stowed the insignia back into her pockets.
“Now beat it” — she assertively stated — “the lot of you!”
“Yes, ma’am—”
The leader begrudgingly answered as he and his goons began taking their leave.
“—sorry for the trouble…”
Once they were gone, Julia moved towards the raven-haired woman and told her from the bottom of her heart.
“Thank you!”
“Save it” — the woman hissed — “it wasn’t you that I was helping…”
The rogue departed into the same direction as the thugs.
“Charming…” Ebonhearth mumbled aloud.
A groan from behind caught her ears, and she peered to the girl laying on the pavement.
“Are you okay!?”
“You’re either the dumbest person in all of Fairen—”
Uttered the blonde as Julia helped her onto her feet.
“—or the bravest girl I’ve ever met…”
“I-I beg your pardon…?”
“Forget I said anything” — the blonde awkwardly beamed — “I owe you my thanks—”
She brushed the dust off her teal dress.
“—most folks that live in this den of iniquity would have looked the other way and done nothing.”
Inviting her for a handshake, the blonde introduced herself.
“Name’s Elise! And you are?”
Ebonhearth shook her hand. “I’m Julia!”
The bright emerald of Elise’s eyes met hers and they shared a smile.
“Well then; Julia… Wanna walk back with me to the main street?”
“Sure! I’m new around these parts and could use a little help getting back to my horse…”
She offered her a clumsy smirk and Elise giggled at her no doubt fish out of water expression she knew was written all over her face.
“In that case, follow me!”
And follow she did, as both girls exited the alley and made their way back towards the general public.
<><><>
While they strolled through the streets, Julia finally got a grip on her bearings.
She recognized the line of stalls and surely enough, she spotted their horse in the distance, still hitched where David had left it.
“There it is!” She pointed to the animal ahead.
Once they passed the array of shops, she skimmed the crowd for her friend’s face, yet frowned when she didn’t see him anywhere.
“Something the matter?”
“My friend isn’t here…”
Uttered Julia while threading her fingers through the steed’s mane…
“Maybe they’re looking for you?”
Said the blonde as an awkward silence befell them, the chattering of the rabble the only thing they heard.
“Listen—”
Elise retrieved a tiny slit of paper from her apron and gave it to Julia.
“—stop by for a visit if you ever find yourself in West-Town!”
“Sure thing” — she accepted the sheet — “I’ll keep that in mind!”
They bid each other farewell, and the blonde courteously bowed her head before taking her leave.
Julia watched her go until she disappeared amidst the crowd and let out a sigh.
“What am I going to do now…?”
Left to her fate, Ebonhearth stored the paper beneath her collar and stroked the stallion’s neck. She then closed her eyes and pressed her head against its muzzle…
And for a moment, Julia pretended everything was okay—that she’d wake up back home, in the warmth of her own sheets and below her mother’s smile.
She fleetingly recalled the sound of her voice…
‘Damn’ — Ebonhearth thought — ‘why do I keep doing this to my—’
Suddenly, the steed moved back, and Julia nearly fell flat on her face.
Hands clenched into fists, she glared the animal down and prepared to berate it to the ends of the world…
But a loud bawl reached her ears before Julia could open her mouth.
“Ah-hah” — exclaimed a familiar voice from her side — “found you!”
When she tried to turn around though, a stern grip seized her by the ear and it sent a painful jolt through her head.
“Ouch! What the hell Dav—”
“You’re worse than a child” — Brocksteel tugged at it harder — “you know that!”
“Ouch! Ouch!! Ouch!!!”
She thrashed and squirmed as heat spread across her face when she spotted a few of the locals glancing their way in amusement.
“Let go of me—”
With one last tug, David released her, and Julia immediately stepped away while rubbing at her no doubt damaged ear.
“—the hell’s your problem!?”
“Give it a rest will ya” — he jeered — “despite its welcoming veneer, Fairen is a dangerous place once you see past all the smoke and mirrors—”
Brocksteel continued his scolding.
“—and this wicked den of iniquity will chew you up and spit you out if you aren’t careful!”
“Okay, okay, sheesh!”
Ebonhearth cradled her burning ear to make sure it stayed in place.
Damn thing sure hurt like it didn’t!
Once her mind was clear, Julia remembered the alleyway and its disturbing experience and felt all her frustration deflate.
Although he behaved like an ogre, David wasn’t wrong. She had only been here for a few hours and had already weighed through two bad experiences.
But she’d be damned if she would ever tell that to him! She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction…
Julia crossed her arms when he was done speaking, averted her eyes and let him deal with their mount.
Brocksteel untied the horse from the hitching rail, straddled its back and offered his hand for her to do the same.
She accepted it with a grimace, and made sure to keep a fair distance between them once seated behind him.
“Let’s go find my sister” — he stated — “hopefully she hasn’t moved out of the old house.”
<><><>
They arrived in West-Town in the late afternoon, trotting amidst its half-rural, half-suburban roads.
Verdant fields and farmlands stretched as far as the eye could see, a star contrast to the crowded district they had came from.
And for the first time since leaving Valmeri, Julia felt nearly at home.
“That’s the place!”
David pointed to a modest household bordered by a square of white picket fences.
They stopped before a hitching rail outside the property and he dismounted their stallion to attach its reins to the wooden pole.
Ebonhearth followed, careful not to twist her ankle as she got off the mount’s back.
Upon opening the front gate, Brocksteel looked her in the eyes.
“Best if I handle the talking…”
Julia answered him with a simple nod, and as they reached the front porch, the blond began knocking at the door.
“Sis” — he exclaimed — “it’s David!”
Yet no response…
A northern breeze blew through the streets and Ebonhearth hugged herself for warmth.
David knocked again.
“Elise” — he shouted her name — “I know it’s been a while but come on, sis!”
‘Elise!?’ Julia thought and controlled herself not to comment.
Yet she couldn’t fight the urge and her curiosity got the better of her.
“Didn’t you tell me that your sister’s name was Elisabeth?”
“It is” — he answered — “but she prefers her nickname.”
David tried for a third time, oblivious to Ebonhearth’s inner turmoil.
“Please, sis! It’s your big bro!”
And as he kept pounding at the door, she figured that perhaps keeping things from him wasn’t the best idea.
Yet before Julia could express herself, a creak caught their attention.
Somebody had just entered through the gate…
But before she could turn around to see who it was, she noticed David’s wide-eyed stare looking past her.
It didn’t take long for her to see why…
“N-no…” There stood the blonde from earlier, the very same she had helped back in the alley.
Tears flooded her eyes as Elise dropped her basket, and covered her mouth with both hands.
“It can’t be” — uttered the blonde — “big brother…?”
David slowly approached her and shared eye contact.
“Long time no see, sis…”