We were about to depart on a trip, which meant we’d be leaving the village for the first time in our young lives. Well, we hadn’t quite left the house’s surroundings in general yet. Apart from that one particular night in the forest... And the occasional walk to our training grounds, of course. But you could hardly really call those trips. This was different.

The old man still hadn’t revealed the destination to us, but I was certain that it must’ve something to do with those damn blights of mine. According to him, the only thing that stood between me and the arcane was that bloody Mana Drain thing. Who put that on me anyway? Or maybe it was an accident? No. For that it felt too specific. I was barely six years of age and already people were out to get me. Typical.

“Be good and don’t cause your grandpa any trouble.” Visla said, giving Rheka a pat on the head.

I’m not sure if I mentioned it already, but apart from pain I was also able to feel most sensations Rheka felt. Only faintly, but I felt them, nonetheless. Which means every pat on the head Rheka got, also doubled as one for me. And there was no greater feeling than a gentle pat on the head.

“I’ll eat all the food and give grandpa a snuggle. Got it!” Rheka replied confidently with her fists on her hips.

I felt my ears pulled, even though I didn’t have any.

And then Urs approached us. He knelt before he grabbed both our heads and pulled us in close. “Watch out for each other. I will chase that old bastard through the Everthought and beyond if he takes either of you away from me too.”

I nodded frantically as Urs pulled away.

Sure, I guess?

Rheka just looked at her father in confusion. He just smiled at her lightly.

“You folks ready for this?” Vrintas asked, emerging from the basement.

Am I imagining things or did his eyes just sparkle a little?

"We are!" We shouted in unison.

"Alright then. Let's go."

And so, we were off. My excitement for this trip was immense, growing with every step we took. Someone passing by would probably not realize that he was walking through a village, given the distance they’d have to cover to get from one house to the next.

Apart from that looming structure of a tower in the distance, it was hard to really see any houses from the roadside at all. The weirdly soft grass, that seemed to grow all around made sure of that. Next to the road it’d sometimes even reach right up to a grown man’s knees. Dracofarn the old man called it. No wonder I liked to lay in that stuff so much.

We must’ve walked for no longer than an hour before all four of my feet began to hurt like hell, resulting in me falling behind constantly. Of course, Rheka had the privilege of being carried on the old man’s shoulders. He better make sure she doesn't turn into a spoiled brat. Let the girl share my pain! Well, she probably was, either way.

The two of them had been talking ever since we’d departed. It was mostly Rheka firing questions at the old man about everything that popped up around us.

“Sooo… what’s up with you and Urs?” I asked to stop myself falling behind again. Not my best icebreaker by any means, but I was genuinely curious about what was going on.

“Well, son. I suppose I ought to say that Urs and I have a strained relationship, and it isn't getting any better these days. I have never been much of a family man, after all. Let alone a real father." He explained.

"Such is the way of things. He's my son. A good man, despite his... impulsiveness sometimes. I'm sure, in the end he'll do better than me." Vrintas laughed to himself.

Rheka had fallen asleep. She was laid over Vrintas' back in the crook of his arm, with her head resting on the old man's shoulder. She looked quite comfy, actually.

He glanced at me, shaking his head after.

"Urs had siblings, quite a few of them as well, but none of them... are around anymore. Something... happened. And then some more things happened."

That’s oddly vague, isn’t it?

“Like what?” I asked. I wanted to learn as much about the old man as possible.

Vrintas frowned. "Things happen. Some worse than others. Life goes on, and so do we. That is the way of things. No one can... change it now."

Even though I didn’t get a proper answer, I could tell the old man was frustrated about something. He seemed to be having a hard time dealing with the topic of his past. Perhaps he didn't want to talk about it. Maybe there was nothing worth mentioning to me. Either way, I knew that there was no point in pressing further for now.

The density of houses increased significantly as we arrived in the village center. I say that, yet it was only a handful of buildings next to each other. Most of them didn't look like living quarters, rather they'd been built to serve as shops. There were maybe a few taverns and inns here and there. Unlike Vrintas, I didn't recognize any of the people staring back at us when we passed by, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that we were a bit out of place. Or maybe it was just me. While the old man received kind greetings left and right, all I got were intense stares and surprised faces. I felt like a foreigner, a lost lizard in a strange land.

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"A bit further on is a caravan stop, from where we'll probably catch one going to our destination." Vrintas said, pointing ahead.

That was great news as my legs were starting to feel sore. If there was a chance to lay down for a while, I was all for it.

I couldn’t quite see any buildings next to the road ahead of us, so I figured the old man was probably playing down the distance we still had to walk to encourage me to pull through. That and the fact that after another hour of walking later we still hadn’t reached that goddamn caravan stop. Screw you, gramps.

“Pardon the intrusion!” A shrill and penetrating voice snapped me out of my thoughts, as we passed a group of eight camping on the roadside. Their outfits were so flamboyant I started to wonder how I hadn’t spotted them ages ago. With robes so brightly red you’d think they’d just bathed in someone's fresh blood. But the thing that stood out the most were those masks and cone-shaped helmets they all wore. White as snow, with narrow slits for eyes and mouth their masks portrayed no emotion at all. In summary, quite the silly choice for attire. And their helmets didn’t help their case either. They looked incredibly stupid, almost prompting me to burst out laughing when I looked at them.

“Hello hello! You wouldn’t know the whereabouts of Port Margentu-” The man cutting himself off mid-sentence was even odder than the rest. He was all over the place. Prancing and jumping around as he spoke to Vrintas. He made these weird twitches whenever he finished a sentence. And his whole head would vibrate for a bit before it cracked to the side. The apex of his cone was high and slightly inclined forward and unlike the rest of the group, his robe was black, and his mask bore a smile.

Must be the... boss-cone then? I guess? Or the group jester? One of the two.

“A dragon! A dragon! A dragon?!” He darted passed Vrintas, removing his mask and hunkering down to my level. His complexion was pale, littered with pimples, warts and what not. His teeth gleamed a vivid yellow, while his nose loomed large in proportion.

“What’s your intention setting up camp so close to the village center?” Vrintas called out, setting foot between us.

But the odd man just moved his head past him again.

“A dragon! Oh, it's beautiful! So beautiful! So... captivating.” He screamed, scratching his head with both of his hands.

Wow. Uhh. Thanks, I guess? I wasn’t quite sure if I preferred this over how the village center folk treated me earlier.

“What is the name of this fine critter? Please! I must know! I must!” he said with a singing voice as he threw glances at Rheka.

“It’s Argius! And you can't- have him!” Rheka blocked him off right as he was about to touch my head.

He looked up to the sky, covering his head with his hands before letting out a sobbing scream. “Ouuuuhhhhhhwaaaaaa!”

Vrintas wasted no time in pressing for more information, "What's the deal with him?" One of the coneheads appeared to be struggling to stay conscious. He was being supported by one of his comrades and had conspicuous black spots on his forearm. If that wasn’t the damn black plague, I don’t know what is. It reminded me of those silly medieval plague caricatures, although I’d obviously never seen the real thing in person.

No reply.

"This isn’t the way to Skyros, is it?” Another voice, squeaky, thin and accent-heavy popped up behind him. A boy who certainly didn’t fit into the aesthetic of the rest of the group. His hair was blonde, short and messy and his clothes were contrarily simple. Probably a bit too warm for the current temperature but simple, nonetheless. The only thing that really stood out to me were his eyes. They were both red. A similar color to the ones that the old man, Urs, Rheka and I had. At first, I’d thought that red eyes were rare, there sure as hell weren’t any in my jolly old world, but apparently, I’d been wrong. Half the people I knew at this point had ‘em.

The odd man spun around. “Of course, it is! If you think about it, every way and no way is the way to Skyros!”

He stopped for a moment, taking in an overly dramatic long breath. “Because it’s an island. Now hush child, I cannot stand the shriek of your voice!”

You’re one to talk.

The boy just stepped back again in visible confusion.

“Hey halfwit. Answer my question.” Vrintas stepped between us once more. “That’s Nightnail, is it not? Why would you bring someone diseased with you?” I could see the old man getting more and more agitated by the second. First time I’d seen him get upset like that.

Vrintas received no response. The odd man just kept up his stare, grinning from ear to ear.

“And what’s with the boy? He yours?” Vrintas pressed further again.

“Ours indeed! Yet, I fail to discern how any of our research would be of any concern to you, good sir!” He said, his grin growing wider and wider while his head twitched slightly.

“You’re in Bayonnte Village. So, your research is very much to my concern, good sir. Leave. Now.”

“Oh my, oh my. And what if we don’t?” he said with a singing voice, burying his face in his hands, arching forward at an almost comical angle.

“Then by Enkef I will make sure you regret it.” Vrintas replied. I could tell he meant it. His face was reddening. I had no idea why, but I didn't want to find out the hard way.

“Oh my, oh my, oh my, oh my my my! Is that a threat?” I saw one of his eyes emerge from beyond his hands.

Yeah, is it now? What the hell are you doing old man? You’re smarter than this!? Why are we bickering around with an idiot like this?

The old man took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm not going to let you spread your sickness onto my lands and my people. Go back where you came from or try your luck with me. What's it going to be?"

"Goodness, well. I believe we both know exactly what's going to happen next." The leader said, giggling nervously as he jumped around, putting quite some distance between us. His companions followed suit, moving out of the way.

Vrintas sighed, turning to look at me. "Stay put and watch closely. You children might pick up something useful."

Rheka and I nodded in unison.

"You and me, gigglecone." Vrintas shouted, while he adjusted some of the rings on his fingers.

"Oh, my dear no. I'm not really a solo-performer you see..." The cone answered, his whole body twitching in unison.

Hold on. Was it always this foggy? How did I not notice before? It was like someone had suddenly put a blanket of cotton wool over my mind, preventing me from seeing anything.

Suddenly I heard a loud splashing sound.

“The Dancing Scientist! The Tumbling Mist! Has just entered stage left, please welcome… Venarius!” A familiar shrill voice sang out from beyond the mist.

Did he just announce... himself?