At those words pronounced with vigor, the crowd turns.

Among them emerges a young man, with a black and muddy cloak waving a bloody piece of clothing.

His blond hair, his blue eyes… there's no doubt about it; he is the boy who was carrying the buckets the day before. The one crossed with her father.

Sely says nothing. She contemplates the young man who hands the piece of clothing to the mayor. The old woman remains motionless, her expression annoyed.

“Wise lady, bringing the goatmantis back to the pen... how to say, I found this in one of the mouths. It was stuck between its teeth, dangling. It must be Master Toslevi's dress.”

The old woman raises her eyebrows and narrows her eyelids. “How can you say it's his dress? One dress is as good as another, do you have proof for what you say?”

The young man lowers his head, twiddling his thumbs. “I have no proof… however, it is a matter of logic that this is so, wise lady.”

“Logical? Logic is worthless without evidence!”

“Well, I'm certainly not the only one who has no evidence to speak of! Wise lady, as I arrived, I heard you screaming about the 'preposterous news' the girl would bring.”

“And so?”

Sweeping away the damp smell of rain, the sea breeze makes Sely shiver. As wet as she is, she runs her hands through her hair, confused by what is happening.

“Well,” the boy insists, smiling, “would you be so kind as to share with all of us what the girl said?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The mayor shakes her head. “How dare you? Do you perhaps want to know what nonsense she revealed to us? With what right, gravedigger that you are, with what right do you ask this?”

“It's not nonsense!” Sely interjects.

Silence falls on her, the boy looks at her with his big blue eyes, and the mayor rubs her forehead.

“What I said is true. It's a...”

“Silence!”

“But…!”

“I said silence, you monster girl! I accept your innocence, for now, but only because of the onerous task that awaits you. Tomorrow you will leave to prove that you are not lying!”

People are confused. There is a growing, uncontainable murmur that mixes with the growing wind.

“But Dad is dead! And Endya…”

“Don't say words that might change my mind. You will leave with Filo; the gravedigger present here.”

Filo, the black-cloaked undertaker, shakes his hands and head: “What!?”

But the mayor continues undeterred, in a louder voice. “You will leave alone for Creraga. You will report the same news to the spider king and based on his reaction, he will decide how to act towards the Marchioness. That's all."

“The Marchioness?”, “Oh, it must be serious!?”, “Of course, someone died… could it be that period?”, “No, I don't want to sacrifice others…”, “I…”

“Shut up! Everyone, back to their work. Filo, monstrous girl, I give you until the festival to investigate; even though I think I already know who the culprit is. I grant it only out of trust in your loyal person, Filo.”

With those words not only the mayor, but the entire village began to disperse.

Sely and Filo remain in the quagmire of the square, their long hair waving in the wind.

The murmur fades away and Sely feels her chest grow lighter.

The young man approaches her and nods.

“Nice” he places his calloused hand on Sely's forehead. “I am Filo; as you have heard, I am Vanoge's gravedigger.”

Sely returns the gesture and places her hand on his forehead. She smiles with a light blush.

Endya didn't come. I have a bad feeling…

However.

This human with the acrid smell and blue eyes…

“Nice to meet you, I'm Sely.”