Raylas cracked his eyes open. They were heavy, the lull of sleep beckoning him to roll over and return to the dreamless sleep. He ignored the siren’s temptation and pushed himself off the bed.

His muscles were stiff and sore, the wear from the past number of days finally starting to heal. They protested as he began his routine exercises.

Stretches were good since it got the blood pumping. He shifted through his fighting forms, mostly his unarmed stances since he did not have a weapon at the moment. Then he sat down to clear his mind and reflect on the past few days.

A rush of memories hit him as he sorted through the previous days. The attack was terrible and not much could have been improved. The undead struck while they were resting and their numbers were higher than expected. Anything he would have done would have resulted in the same conclusion.

Then there was the escape. His dance of death… he reviewed the movements and feelings that occured as he swam through the horde. The rush of warmth as the weapon struck, the control of the chain, and the satisfaction when the enemy collapsed.

He peered at the chain. Admiration matching his disgust for the artifact. It was a good weapon which would help him in the future. Currently he was unarmed so there shouldn't be a reason why he couldn't use it. After all, whatever curse it had was already given to him.

Raylas shook his head. There was no need to delve deeper into the curse. He won't throw the weapon away, but he won't use it.

Purging his thoughts again he reviewed the fort and goblins. Everything worked well, but could he have done more? Adding more traps could have helped, or working on a more conspicuous escape route. The chief goblin noticed them and he had extra clothes. He could have made more rope and left through the tower.

Then there was the girl. She was an enigma. She claims to serve him yet her power and actions show other goals. Enchanting him to be able to read? Calling him master when slavery was forbidden?

Sure, servants can call their lord a master, but to call a lowly warrior like him raised red flags to anyone paying attention.

All in all he was stuck with her until she decided to leave him. Her teleporting abilities alone made running impossible, and her fixation on him being some 'heir of Aasim' made him her product of fascination.

The magic around her and the artifacts… he would have to figure out a way to move her attention away if he was to become a free man again. For now he was trapped. So instead of fighting and pushing her away which didn't work when he first met her, or begging for release like he did last night, he would need to strategize to out think the problem.

It was a puzzle, and he was good at puzzles.

His face burned as he recalled the night before. A grown man crawling to the girl, begging for her to take the artifacts and dispose of them.

Fatigue was a dangerous thing, especially in the mind. He'd rather be exhausted in a fight as there was an enemy before him.

He calmed himself again, letting the shame flow through him and then out. It was an immature thing he did so he would have to learn from this to not repeat it.

Raylas opened his eyes, feeling calmed. A set of purplish eyes were right in front of him peering into his mind.

He jumped and punched the intruder, but his first only struck into a mist. A giggle resounded around the room as the mist expanded.

[Good morning, Master]

Sapphire reformed a few feet away and gave him a bow.

Raylas glared at her, then sighed in defeat. The woman was… unique.

“Good morning, girl,” he greeted.

“Did you rest well?”

“I wouldn’t call it restful, but it was definitely necessary.” Raylas stood up stretching. His morning activities concluded he could start off the day with a spring to his step.

Wait? Morning?

“Didn’t we have a dinner invite to meet with…” He started his question then tailed off at the end.

“We did but you fell asleep, so I went for the both of us,” she chirped. “It was delectable and they were very friendly.”

He felt his heart quicken then he released his breath. There was no use crying over a cracked blade. What happened happened, and he has not been thrown in jail right now so perhaps it ended well.

A little positivity never killed anyone. Only lack of paranoia.

“In that case we should move together from now on,” he said. “I hope you gave them a good impression of us.”

“A very good one if I–”

“When I say good I mean being so boring they’ll overlook us completely,” he clarified. “Having a Knight watch our every move would be inconvenient and troublesome.”

The girl tilted her head questioningly. Raylas shook his head not feeling like elaborating further. Nobody wanted the law to be hyper fixated on them. Not only does that make you look like a visiting criminal it would attract the wrong type of attention. Someone might think you’re important and want to become ‘friends’.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Raylas shivered at the thought.

“So they think we are nobodies who are just passing through, right?” he asked to confirm.

“Just a couple of adventurers traveling through–”

“Hold it!” Raylas cried out. “Adventurers?”

“Yep!” She swelled up in pride. “Nobody would think twice about two of them just passing through toward greener hills.”

“They would think many times over since nobody has heard of an adventurer is… a hundred years!” Raylas blustered.

“Huh?” Her eyes widened in surprise as she stiffened.

“Those damned people awoke the Balor and destroyed the northernmost mountains,” Raylas ranted. “Jumping into ruins, collecting artifacts and bringing general chaos to the world. The organization was disbanded due to fear of them bringing about a second Cataclysm.”

“I… might have acted a bit unusual due to my lack of knowledge?” she forced out, her face now plastered with a guilty grin.

Raylas took in a breath then released it. Then another, and another, and… damned it all!

He kicked the bedpost and a crack sounded. The wood splintered but didn't fully break and he felt a fiery pain rush up his leg.

He didn’t put on his boots yet.

Profanities were yelled out as he hopped on one foot. The pain lessened slightly after a few moments and he hesitantly placed his foot on the floor. He winced at the pain but at least nothing was broken.

He turned to glare at the girl, but she gave him a large, forced smile then turned into mist and flew into his belt which was lying on the table.

“Damned mages…” he sighed as he snatched the belt and clipped it on.

He looked around and found his cloak sitting folded on the chair with the journal lying on top. Raylas hesitated but took the book and clipped on his cloak.

Yesterday was a bad day. He learned a number of truths he was ill prepared to handle, but since his mind is clear he needed more info. What exactly was the Captain doing? Should he even rejoin the group if they are causing more trouble than fixing?

He had a week, so he might as well be productive.

The smell of eggs and bread hit him as he entered the dining area. It wasn’t evening when he passed out so his stomach rumbled angrily. Darling was tending the fireplace, the fire warm and welcoming as snow fell slowly outside.

“Good morning, Raylas,” she said, straightening her back with a pop.

“Morning, Darling,” he replied politely.

He sat in one of the more cushioned chairs close to the fire, the warmth warming his bones. The fire in his room was lit when he thought of it. It was mostly charcoal so it had been burning for a while, so there shouldn’t be a worry of it catching the rest of the inn on fire by leaving it alone.

He pulled out his book and examined it again. Damaged, worn, used. Those were the best words to describe it.

He flipped to the first page and started to read. The feeling was unusual, but he needed to know everything if he was going to make a proper decision on how to deal with the captain.

The entries began four years ago, just a year before he joined. It was obvious that it wasn’t his first journal as the entries were already written in a set, formal format. The jobs were similar to the ones he read before, though there were a good number of them where they actually hunted down a wanted criminal, or escorted a young noble or influential merchant to another city.

The problem was the others. Removing a rebel for an obviously corrupt baron, though in the Captain’s defense he recorded the crimes the baron committed. Removing a lone farmer to make his land open for purchase to their neighbor.

Diving into a ruin to find a rumored artifact…

Raylas scratched his chin at the entry, but before he could delve deeper Darling dropped off a plate of steaming food onto the table next to him. He decided that now was a good time to pause his reading.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Oh!” Darling exclaimed. “I didn’t know you were paying attention. You were so into that book I wasn’t sure you’d even notice me dropping off the breakfast.”

“How can I ignore such a delicious aroma,” he laughed.

“Damned right!” Dave called out from the kitchen.

Darling chuckled. She gave the book a glance.

“So what are you reading?” She asked. “Most of us commoners have no use to read, but you seemed very absorbed with that book. Is it a good story, like what Bards sing?”

“If only,” Raylas muttered. “It's a journal recording… Well, it has a lot of information. I am studying it to make a decision on what to do after I leave here.” He realized Darling’s odd statement. “But I too am a commoner, you know.”

“If you say so,” she chuckled as she started to pluck out caught dirt in the bristles of her broom.

“I am serious. I’ve only learned to read… rather recently.”

“Its fine to have your own secrets,” she winked. “We don’t have much going on around here, though the night guards have made mention of an increase of activity in the woods last night.”

Raylas paused.

“What did they report?”

“Shuffling in the trees,” she said. “Moaning, the sounds of scratching and chattering. Nothing that should be a concern for the town but unusual. The unusual are big news in a town of our size.”

Raylas wanted to groan but he held himself and ate his food. Moaning and shuffling sounded like zombies, but scratching and chattering was reminiscent of goblins. There was a chance that the goblins became zombified and followed their trial, but with the attack going on it was unlikely. They should have retreated back into the woods to hide from the sun once they finished feasting.

There was an itch in the back of his mind. What it was trying to say he couldn’t figure out, but it was there and he felt it wouldn’t be a good idea to ignore it.

“There are many monsters in the woods,” Raylas pointed out. “Your people have lived here for at least a decade, right?”

“The town was rebuilt twenty five years ago,” she said. “A terrible time where it seemed nature itself turned against the workers. But since then we have found a way to survive and thrive.”

“By working with the–”

“By our hard work,” Darling interrupted with a hard voice. “We are hardy people here, Mister Raylas.”

“I see,” he mused as he finished his plate. “Delicious, just like yesterday.” He set the plate down on the desk and took the book to continue reading.

“Anytime,” she laughed, taking the plate and heading toward the kitchen.

Raylas watched her from the corner of his eye and saw her do a quick glance at him, her usual smile missing and with hard eyes. Dave mentioned a secret monster, and Darling avoided the topic entirely. There was a mystery here, and the itch appeared to be pointing him in that direction.

He rolled his shoulders to remove the slight tension that started to build up and opened the book. He couldn’t focus on the entries as his mind rolled with the brief bit of news.

Did something follow him?