The two lament singers Alice had found had a decent repertoire of songs, but there were noticeable differences in their versions. When we tried to determine which one was correct, each firmly insisted theirs was the authentic rendition. After much back-and-forth without resolution, we were on the verge of despair. That’s when one of the women caring for "Alice's children," the orphans, pointed out that the variations weren’t such a big deal. She explained that it was common practice for lament singers to add their own flourishes intentionally, both to enhance their performance and to increase the perceived value of their unique interpretation.

To think that she was only there by chance, trailing a couple of children who had wandered into the room to listen to the music—and I had been this close to yelling at them...

As a side note, I did not decapitate, bury alive, or burn the two lament singers—neither instantly nor later in the evening—for wasting our precious time with their nonsense, though I did entertain the thought a few times. I take that as undeniable proof that I am, in fact, a very reasonable person.

After a while, we involved more of the household women and even many of the children in the singing. Surprisingly, Alice’s suggestion to include the children turned out to be an excellent idea, especially once I started infusing magic to emphasize the emotions, as Flo had taught me. It was humbling to witness the depth of feeling those women and children poured into the songs. In the end, it wasn’t so much about me singing, but rather me acting as a resonator and amplifier for their voices and emotions. The quality of those songs surpassed anything I could have imagined.

Despite having only that afternoon for rehearsals, by evening, we were satisfied with the repertoire we had prepared. Tom's guitar blended beautifully with the songs, while Mike had managed to procure some drums. On the percussion side, we had to hold back some of the more enthusiastic children who were eager to overdo it. Thankfully, the older children took it upon themselves to rein in the younger or rowdier ones, sparing us the effort.

Hew, however, was still without a proper instrument for his part, but we decided to make do.

We wrapped up before the evening meal, pleased with the progress we had made and confident in our solution. Alice took on the task of handling the logistics for the next day, ensuring everyone would be transported to the mining town on time.

*

After dinner, I went up to my apartment and found Ju in our room. We decided to chat on the terrace, enjoying the sunset. However, it didn’t take long for her to notice that I wasn’t quite myself.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, her gaze narrowing as she studied me. “Did those lament songs get to you? You seem unusually melancholic this evening.”

I shrugged, not ready to jump straight into the conversation. “I keep thinking about the raid. Remember the Seven Scourges?”

Ju gasped, a flicker of concern flashing across her face. “Oh dear! You’re feeling guilty about the raid, but that wasn’t you!” she said, trying to soothe me.

I shook my head. “Ahem, well, that too, but that’s not exactly what I was trying to say…”

“No?” she asked, her brows arching in confusion.

“Remember how you introduced Cala?” I prompted.

“Calamity Lara, known as Cala the Assassin?” she recited.

“Tenebra’s emissary,” I added, the title falling from my lips like an ominous weight.

“Ah, yes? Why bring that up? Is it bothering you?”

“It’s just… a silly thought that crossed my mind. You know Tenebra is, theoretically, a mythological figure from this world…”

“She’s not theoretical—she is a mythological figure from this world,” Ju interrupted firmly.

“Yes, yes,” I said, waving off her correction, “but I interacted with her, and even had an anklet from her... well Cala did…”

"In the game..." she said

Then her eyes went wide.

“What?” Ju leaned in. “You’re saying the game’s Tenebra actually acted in the real world?”

“Oh yes,” I said, nodding with a grin. “She did.”

She was still processing the shock, grappling with the implications, while I continued.

“She orchestrated Isera’s killing, and I can’t shake the feeling that she had a hand in the unraveling of the game world as well.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“You mean the Angel of Death orchestrated the killing of Nature’s Angel?” Ju asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“Exactly. Fascinating, isn’t it? I’d be very curious to hear her side of the story about how this world became a game world. Honestly, I’d love to meet her.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “Nooo! What are you saying? Do you have a death wish?”

I chuckled softly. “No, silly. I just want to have a chat with her.”

Ju visibly shivered, and I could see the fear ripple through her. “You don’t just have a chat with the Angel of Death! Even saying her name sends a chill down my spine!”

I pulled her into a comforting hug. “That’s why I said it was a silly thought. Forget it.” I released her and stood up. “I’m going to check on Sid and wish him good night. I haven’t seen him all day. Then I’ll come back to sleep.”

*

I hugged Ju once more before dissolving into a shadow, moving swiftly to check on Sid. In less than ten seconds, I was in front of his chamber. I materialized back into human form and pressed my hand against the giant round stone blocking the entry. The stone rumbled as it rolled aside, revealing the entrance.

As I stepped in, the sight of him sleeping peacefully greeted me. Curled into a perfect ring, his usual sleeping position, Sid looked content and serene. I was about to descend to give him a soft kiss on the brow when I froze.

There she was.

Therella, stretched out in all her glory, clad in her pajamas, draped over Sid like a barbie doll someone had casually placed atop a massive, slumbering dog. The sight made my breath hitch, and for a moment, I almost screamed. I almost let loose every thunderbolt I had at my disposal, ready to turn the chamber into a cacophony of chaos.

It took every ounce of my self-control to resist the urge to incinerate her on the spot—or at the very least, to explode into a dramatic tirade. The real problem wasn’t her, though. It was Sid. He wouldn’t understand. He’d wake up shocked and confused, wondering why I had acted so irrationally.

No, I couldn’t ruin his peaceful slumber. He was happy, I could feel it, and I wasn’t about to shatter that. Already, he was starting to sense my agitation, a subtle ripple in the tranquil bond we shared. I quickly worked to correct my feelings, swallowing my fury and frustration.

No, I wasn’t angry with him. I was delighted to see him resting so peacefully. I forced my emotions to settle, projecting calm and love instead of the storm brewing within me.

I hoped I was doing the right thing. With our telepathic connection, I would immediately know if anything unpleasant happened to him. Taking a step back, then another, I quietly closed the door behind me.

As I stood there, I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm still swirling inside me. Dark clouds crackled between my fingers, a manifestation of my indecision about what I should do next.

“I think it’s good to let them be,” Lynx said behind me, his voice soft but steady.

I snorted, half in frustration, half in disbelief. “Spying on me again, huh?” I turned to face him, sighing as I did. “Why weren’t you there when I needed you?! Sid sensed me, but you? Where were you? Off chasing some deer?!”

His ears drooped, and his eyes lowered, guilt written all over his face. “I… I didn’t think anything would happen,” he mumbled, his words barely audible. “After two boring sessions with that prince, I thought it’d be just as dull.”

I raised a brow, my shoulders dropping. As much as I wanted to stay mad, I couldn’t stay angry with Lynx for more than ten seconds.

“You were there for the first two sessions?” I asked.

He shrugged, then raised his gaze to meet mine. “Of course! I didn’t trust them at first, but after two sessions, I fell for it. I’m sorry…”

His eyes lowered again, filled with guilt. I sighed, reaching out to gently caress his brow with my left hand.

“Don’t be sorry, Lynx. Who tasked you with always watching over me? Go to sleep, or enjoy the night however you’d like. Honestly, I’ll tell you if I need shadowing. You’re overstretching yourself trying to always be by my side.”

I hugged him, and I swear he started to purr. That sound only made me squeeze him tighter, a warmth blooming in my chest. After a while, I reluctantly released him.

“I think I’m going upstairs to find something to drink from my bar. Do you want to join Ju and me for a drink?”

He shrugged, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Nah, I’ll leave it to you two. I think I’ll go chase a deer, as you said. My appetite’s back!”

I chuckled, pitying the poor deer, and then dissolved into a shadow. Ten seconds later, I was in my room, rummaging through the bar.

“What are we celebrating?” Ju called out from the bathroom, her voice carrying over the clink of bottles.

“Celebrating?” I repeated indignantly. “I need something strong! You said you had something from the orcs for me to test?”

“Oh, yes, the green flask! They said it’s from trolls. Can you believe that? Troll mojo! Pour me a small portion too—I’ve been curious.”

I picked up a dangerously ominous bottle filled with a glowing green liquid that seemed to shimmer with its own eerie light. Without hesitation, I took a swig directly from the bottle.

“Ah! Exactly what I need!” I exclaimed, the liquid burning a fiery trail down my throat.

I poured two glasses and handed one to Ju as she emerged from the bathroom in her gauzy pajama, hand already reaching for the drink.

“Alcohol is bad for your health, but this stuff?” she said wisely, raising her glass. “This is so much worse.”

I took a deep breath, holding my glass, and sighed. “You can’t imagine what I just saw.”

“Oh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she sipped cautiously.

I launched into my tale, pouring out every detail as the fiery troll concoction fueled my words.