Which comes first, a monster or its name? It’s easy to think and fair to believe that a monster gains its name only after being witnessed by eyes who can give it a name.
But is this true of the monster that leaves no survivors? The monster upon which a single gaze can stop hearts, and the monster with a seeping aura of death so powerful, it could kill other colossi by mere presence alone.
This monster was given a name, but not one that spoke of its size or its description, as no one who knew of its existence could describe it. For, those who knew of its existence and were alive to speak of it had never laid eyes upon it, lest they, themselves, be killed.
This monster was given the name of an ancient titan of myth, the holgamoor.
No living thing is truly immortal, though.
At the border between the territories known simply as the North and the South, in a great mountain range, a single man defeated the holgamoor, bringing an end to its reign of unseen terror.
Following the man’s heroic deeds, he was brought back to his home, where the king and queen knighted him for his brave deeds, Sir Murtoa of Lakia.
Sir Murtoa’s deeds earned him a great deal of respect from the common folk of the world, facing down terrifying monsters to protect the innocent people of the world.
However, a terrible secret surrounds the brave and selfless hero. He was the last person seen with the queen of Lakia before…
***
The trunk winder comes to a stop on the same branch they stopped at before, leading to the entrance to the suspended village. Coco sighs in content, stretching from her chair as Blastie yawns in her lap. Murtoa gently pats her shoulder. “Good work, Coco.”
She grins brightly at him, replying cutely, “Aye, Love! Can I get a treat for me hard work?”
He chuckles, replying, “I’ll see if I can find anything for you in town.”
She pouts, but then turns serious as Gyrryth stands up from his seat. “When ye go in, I need two quarter barrels of black powder for the quicklocks. Maybe three.” She digs out her coin pouch, scooping some coins to hand to Gyrryth. “And I coul’ use some more mixin’s for juicas.”
Gyrryth nods, “Yes, I believe I remember. Anything else?”
“Mmm… Oh! A bag of nuts for Blastie.” She hands him a few more coins. “Tha’s more ‘an enough. If no’, I’ll have gab with these griftas.”
Gyrryth nods.
Maerin retorts dryly, “Wasn’t black powder the whole reason you adopted the exploding trash panda?”
“You take that back, ya soggy Bae! He’s no trash panda! An’, if we gonna be firin’ off shots all binny tocks, Blastie’s not big enough.”
Murtoa says as he leaves the cockpit to begin his own preparations, “Blastie’s a she.”
Lykha asks skeptically as she hovers in the cockpit, “How could you possibly have divined that?”
“Males have an odor defense. It can drive off some predators and intentionally lure others. We wouldn’t be keeping her if Blastie was a male.”
Murtoa limps towards the back, and Lykha hovers after him. “Mury? Are you sure you don’t want me to heal you?”
"Not yet. I'll be fine. We're not sure how the villagers will behave, and I'd rather you be prepared for offense until later." She pouts lightly, but agrees.
She then asks Coco, "Coco, you aren't going into town?"
The teen shakes her head. "Nah. I wanna do a quick spray o'the runna and take a nap."
Gyrryth replies respectfully, "Mind the water levels, Fiery One. We need to ensure we can make it to a water source to replenish."
"Aye, I know tha'. 'S why I said 'quick', no' drenchin' the whole thin'."
The lizardman nods and approaches Murtoa to offer the human warrior a shoulder. Maerin flies slowly past them to retrieve some small packages she prepared. "I've got a few more goodies to try to sell, so I'll be tagging along."
Murtoa says quietly when Coco seems distracted with her blaze panda pet, "If Coco's staying, one of us should…"
The teen retorts with a fiery reply, "I don' nee'ta be peeped e'erytime we splittin' up! I lived jus' fine by meself 'fore bandits griffed me off'a me sleepin' spot!"
Murtoa stares her down, and she softens. "M-...Maybe I'll lock up when ya'lot leave an' take me nap first."
The human warrior replies softly, "I would appreciate you taking caution. Cleaning the vehicle can wait. I'll even help when we return."
Lykha adds proudly, "Me too! Mury's right. Just because you are capable, doesn't mean you have to risk it."
Coco beams excitedly, but halts herself quickly after. She feigns composure, replying with a hint of girlish excitement in her voice, "Aye. As Boss Machen, your think is good, Mury. I, Coco of Lakia, shall allow it."
Maerin instantly retorts, "I already told you, you can't call yourself that! You're not a knight! It's disrespectful to knights!"
Murtoa adds, but his answer seems strange. “Be careful who you call yourself that in front of.”
Coco looks at him with a surprised and curious expression, and he doesn’t clarify. “Please just trust me.”
Coco stares at him for a moment, but she pouts, “Okay…”
Mury then says, “We’ll be back soon. Check before opening the door to anyone.”
“Aye, I know. Be safe, Love. Ye no’ at full kick.”
“I will.”
Just before they leave, Lykha offers the knife back to Murtoa, saying a little apologetically, “Mury? H-Here’s your knife back. Thank you. I’m sorry it got damaged.”
Murtoa accepts the blade, inspecting the charred marks and scratches on its surface. He replies bluntly, “This type of blade is inexpensive. I’m glad it was able to help.”
She smiles, and he hands it to Coco. “Coco, if you would, you did good work putting a sling on. If you have some time, reinforce it with leather. I’ll repair the blade later.”
The teen nods, taking the knife. “Aye. I can try to make a bladehugga instead.”
“Please do.”
“W-Wait… For me?” asks Lykha, surprised.
Murtoa nods, “Of course.”
Lykha hovers over Murtoa’s shoulder as he leans on Gyrryth to walk. The lizardman has a long gait normally, so it looks a little awkward watching him try to walk at Murtoa’s slowed pace. But, neither complains. To anyone looking from the outside of the group, they look like simple adventurers, with one of them injured. It’s usually only after a monster has been slain that Murtoa’s name is attached to it, after all.
Maerin, having taken up her usual temporary residence in Gyrryth’s bag on his opposite side, leans on the edge with her cheek on her palm, smiling contentedly.
Murtoa has both of his swords; Zaermaa and Kolaya’s family sword, though he mentioned that he needs to clean and polish Zaermaa. Though it doesn’t lose sharpness, it can still rust. Lykha has seen Murtoa fight in worse shape than now, but she’s thankful they’re only going into a fairly tame and hospitable town.
Lykha smiles at the knowledge that she has comparisons to make with non-fairy towns and villages to judge their relative safety.
As they’re walking towards the alchemist’s shop, where they intend to get black powder for Coco, a young voice calls out, “OOOOiiii! Hey! Fairy! Hiiii! Fairy! Hi! Hi! Fairy! Me! Hi!”
Lykha looks to find Two-leaf jogging towards them.
The teen stops in front of the group when they come to a stop, and Lykha asks, “Two-leaf?”
“Uh-huh!” The teen scoops Lykha out of the air, hugging her as if they’ve known each other their entire lives. The young fairy tries to squirm free, but she doesn’t cry for help yet. Two-leaf is eccentric, but she’s far from dangerous.
Lykha finally gets a little room, saying, “Two-leaf, allow me to introduce you. These are three of my four friends; Gyrryth, Murtoa, and Maerin. And, I don’t think I introduced myself last time; my name’s Lykha. Is… Two-leaf your real name, or…”
“Mm-hmm! It’s the only one I know!”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’m not! Nice ta meet ya, friends!”
Gyrryth bows politely, “We saw you from afar the other day, but were regrettably rather busy.”
Suddenly studying Murtoa, Two-leaf releases Lykha and shoves in close to the human warrior, who doesn’t flinch. She cranes her head at different angles, as if trying to see his face under his helmet. Lykha understands. She tries to sneak peeks occasionally as well.
However, Two-leaf says strangely, “You’re him.”
“I get that a lot.”
“No, I mean… You’re him-him.” Her eyes widen. She then says, “He’s looking for you…”
Lykha asks with her arms crossed, “What are you talking about?”
Two-leaf looks at her, saying sincerely, “A grumpy man came by earlier looking for some guy. Somebody from Lakia claiming to be a knight who did something bad, but nobody knows why he did it. Well, nobody but him. And me.” She smiles cryptically at this.
The others look at Murtoa, stunned by this revelation. Lykha asks, “Do you know this girl, Mury?”
“Dunno. Been a long time since I’ve been here.”
Two-leaf explains, “That’s not why I know. It’s because of MY secret.” She puts her hands on her hips, declaring loudly, “I know all of the secrets of the world! Hahahahaha!”
Lykha sighs. “Are you Coco’s normal-talking doppelganger?”
Murtoa asks, “Did the man give a name?”
“Mmm… I think so… Por-... Pir-... No… Tra-... Car-... Faris?”
“Sir Osmund of Lakia,” declares a deep, powerfully-projecting voice with a slight growl. The group turns, with Murtoa still leaning on Gyrryth, and Lykha and Maerin gasp.
Wearing the impressive-looking armor of a knight differing from the Holy Order knights is a large man -apparently human-, with a gigantic sword on his back that looks on him like Mury’s leaf-shaped throwing knife looks on Lykha; too big.
Murtoa replies plainly with little inflection positively or negatively, “Sir Osmund.” He tips his helmet respectfully, and the terrifying knight growls out, “Murtoa.”
“Do you have a job for me?”
The man shakes his head in disgust, scoffing in anger as he draws his shield-like greatsword with both hands. “To think I’d finally catch up to you here of all places. Tell me; is that her?”
They look at Two-leaf when he gestures his head towards her, and she looks behind her, not realizing it’s herself they’re looking at.
Murtoa replies, “Dunno. You have a bounty on a random girl in the street?”
“She matches enough of the description and she appears to be the proper age.”
Lykha snaps, “You can’t just take her!”
Osmund growls as he readies to attack, “That girl is the princess of Lakia; kidnapped by Murtoa when she was but an infant, after he deserted the Order. I’m taking her home.”
Murtoa says plainly, “I can’t allow that. You’re mistaken.”
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“I will not heed the words of an oathbreaker and a traitor.”
“MURY IS NOT A TRAITOR!” shouts Lykha.
He retorts coldly, “Silence, fairy. I have no business with you. This is a matter of the honor of Lakia. Honor that man has besmirched, and a kingdom he has doomed to destruction.” He faces Murtoa, asking, “Did you know, Murtoa? Lakia has fallen.”
Murtoa gently shoves away from Gyrryth, his left hand hanging at his side under his cape while he grips Zaermaa’s hilt with his right hand. He replies coldly, “Lakia was on a path to ruin long before I intervened.”
“Regardless, you were an anointed knight. You swore an oath, and you broke that oath.”
“No, unfortunately, I didn’t.” Murtoa shifts his grip on his sword again, asking, “Do you really intend to fight me in my current state?”
Osmund retorts with an anxious and angry tone, “Of course. I shall not allow you to escape again and continue spreading your treacherous name.”
Maerin retorts, “You failed big time on that. Practically the whole world knows his name.”
“HAND OVER THE PRINCESS!” booms Osmund.
Murtoa sighs. “Princesses. I told you, you’re mistaken.”
“What?”
Murtoa pulls Zaermaa from its hilt, keeping his left arm under his cape. Lykha watches anxiously, but backs away when Gyrryth does the same. They’re all watching cautiously.
A new voice suddenly calls out, “I cannot allow this.”
The group looks to the speaker, who is none other than the young Holy Order knight who was investigating the plague. He points accusingly at Osmund, shouting, “You declare yourself a knight, and yet you intend to duel this clearly injured man.”
Osmund retorts, “This is an internal matter of the Kingdom of Lakia. Do not interfere, or I will kill you.”
“All domains must answer to the Holy Church of the Spoken Realm. No man is above God or the spirits.”
“Learn your place, boy. The kingdom of Lakia founded the Holy Order. We do not answer to you.”
“Regardless, I shall not allow you to duel an injured man. I, Sir Balleo of the Holy Church of the Spoken Realm, do hereby take this man’s place in this duel.”
Murtoa tries to object, “That’s not…”
Balleo dashes towards Osmund as the latter attempts to close the distance on Murtoa. Their swords clash, and Balleo is stumbled back by the sheer weight of Osmund’s sword.
Lykha hovers close to Murtoa, and she asks, “What should we do?”
“Just keep back. Everything will be fine.”
Balleo proves to be skilled with his fairly standard longsword, now knowing what he’s up against. He parries with skillful dodges, not trying to stop the great weight of the gigantic sword so much as deflect it so his dodges are more successful.
However, like Murtoa, Osmund is clearly a far more skilled master of combat.
Osmund manages to kick Balleo’s shin, slamming him with a broadside smack of the greatsword that claps with a bone-rattling crack. Balleo is tossed to the ground, coughing up blood.
Murtoa gestures with his sword, “Heal him. I’ll finish this.”
Lykha pleads, “Mury! You can’t be serious! Sir Osmund’s not like the others!”
Osmund growls as he rests his greatsword on his shoulder. “I will not spare you, Murtoa. I can at least respect you remaining to face your judgement.”
Murtoa replies calmly as he limps closer, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Osmund. My rendezvous is already destined.”
Just as Osmund steps into a massive and devastating downward slash, Murtoa side steps, grunting once. Lykha gasps, but the blade sweeps clear of the human warrior.
And, Osmund finds his sword down in front of himself near the ground with a fairly standard flintlock pistol aimed at his chest. His eyes widen, and the pistol fires.
Murtoa’s left hand, until now hidden under his cape, had squeezed the trigger.
Gyrryth flinches, looking down to his own right hip, where one of his new pistols -a pair of standard flintlock pistols- is missing.
Osmund stumbles back a step as smoke trails from the barrel of the pistol. He coughs up blood, his face shocked and utterly aghast.
Murtoa doesn’t give him enough time to make sense of the fact that he’s been shot. The unorthodox knight spins in a broad circle, building momentum for Zaermaa. Osmund is only barely able to save his own life by recoiling back, but Murtoa’s strike reaches flesh, and Osmund falls onto his backside, crying out in pain.
He accuses as he tries to retreat on his back, “Y-You *cough* You lack… honor…” Murtoa tucks the pistol into his bag for safe keeping as he limps towards Osmund. “You challenged an injured man to a duel and intended to kidnap a girl because she matches a possible description of someone whose fate you do not know. If what you have is honor, I’ll do without.”
As Murtoa stands over Osmund, the latter asks through his failing breath and strength, “Wh-... Why? Y-... You’re… supposed to be… a knight…”
“I didn’t knight myself.”
“Wait!” That single word is very nearly too late. Murtoa is able to alter his blade’s momentum, and it spears into the ground next to Osmund’s neck.
Lykha pleads, “You’ve won. Do you have to kill him?”
“It’s a good idea in this case. I can explain in private.”
Lykha crosses her arms, asking “What about the honor of your sword? Zaermaa is an honorable sword, isn’t it? He… doesn’t seem like a monster.”
Murtoa finally sighs after a long time. “He’ll die if he doesn’t receive healing. Can you heal them both?”
Lykha smiles. “Yes.” She looks to Gyrryth, asking, “Please bring Sir Balleo closer, Gyrryth.”
The lizardman nods, carefully carrying the injured junior knight closer to Osmund as Murtoa stands over the senior knight. Osmund has lost consciousness at this point, quite possibly having gone into shock the moment Mury made his final intentionally-missed strike.
Once Balleo is laying next to Osmund, Gyrryth drags the greatsword away from the other knight of Lakia, remarking as he does, “I know not how a human was able to wield such a blade. I don’t know that I could swing it.”
Murtoa replies as Lykha casts Gruicelle’s enhanced healing magic on both of the fallen knights. “His armor probably has magic enchantments to reduce the weight or boost his strength. Given Balleo’s injuries being survivable, I’d guess the former.”
“Really? Such magic is employed in armor?”
“Why not? It’s no different than weapon enhancements. Also, if his sword is stolen from him, it doesn’t have the same effect. Armor is harder to steal in battle.”
Maerin asks bluntly, “Is that why your armor is worthless?”
He scoffs, but nods. “That, and the functions suit my needs.”
Lykha reports, “All done. They should both be fine. That said… Uh… Mury?”
“Yes? What is it?” She flies up using her wings, taking a seat on his shoulder. “Can I ride here? That drained my magic.”
He nods. “Of course.”
She smiles with a soft blush, and Murtoa asks, “Sir Balleo?”
The young knight nods, climbing to his feet. “I’m fine. Thank you, Miss Fairy.” He inspects Osmund briefly, who is still unconscious for the time being. Like Lykha’s own simple healing spell, it consumes the target's stamina, so it can be exhausting if a lot of healing is being done.
Balleo states, “It’s clear that I don’t have all of the facts in this supposed internal matter, and so, I cannot fairly lay judgment upon either of you. It was merely my duty to intervene in such an uneven duel. Though, I now realize, you never intended to attempt a fair fight.”
Murtoa replies plainly, “Is that a problem?”
“I suspect it’s none of my business. Miss? Do you need any help with anything?” He looks at Two-leaf, who instantly points at Murtoa. “I’m with him.”
“Very well.”
Lykha cries out, “Wait, what!? Since when!?”
Two-leaf puts her hands on her hips proudly, saying smugly, “Since he’s going to take me home, that’s why.”
“WH-... MURY!?”
Murtoa replies to Balleo, “Thanks for your help. Be more cautious with your own life, though. You can’t protect anyone if you’re dead, and you can’t win a fight you aren’t prepared for.”
Balleo sighs, “I understand. Thank you for the wisdom.” He bows briefly, excusing himself to return to whatever he was doing.
Murtoa then faces the fuming fairy, replying, “You invited yourself to follow me.”
“THAT WAS DIFFERENT!”
“What does it matter?”
“WHERE’S HOME FOR HER!?”
They all look at Two-leaf who answers just as earnestly and brightly as can be, “I don’t know!” She grins.
Lykha gestures at her while glaring at Murtoa. He replies, “It’s probably not a good idea to leave her here with Osmund believing she’s one of the princesses of Lakia.”
Lykha realizes that THAT is, in fact, a much more pressing issue she wants to know about. Just before she asks, though, the sheriff approaches with several of his deputies and villagers. The sheriff asks, “Everything… okay here?”
Murtoa nods, replying, “Yes. This man challenged me to a duel. I won. My companion has already healed his wounds. If he already booked shelter, I’d ask that you have him escorted there.”
“Why did he challenge you to a duel?” asks the sheriff skeptically.
“He had wrong information. It’s settled now.”
“If you say so.” The sheriff nods to a couple of his deputies, and they send for a cart to wheel Osmund away.
Gyrryth then says politely, “If possible, we’d like to make some purchases in town. As you can see, our companion has been cured of his previous ailment.”
The sheriff nods, “I wanted to ask about that. We had some quarantined villagers suddenly recover as well.” He looks at Lykha, asking, “A… cure?”
Lykha looks down, replying softly, “Not exactly…”
“Tell me. I will reserve my judgment until I hear the information you have.”
Lykha looks at Murtoa, and he nods at her. He wants her to tell the story.
Lykha sighs. “It’s… not a pleasant story, and… I know you said you don’t track your villagers because I assume you respect them a lot more than some random outsiders, but… Wh-... What if I told you… it was Yanari?”
The deputies who remained with the sheriff glance at each other, but none of the three say anything. Maerin adds a little bluntly, “She committed the ultimate sin; she used another fairy’s wish, and then kept doing it.”
Lykha nods, fidgeting with her hands, “I know it would be difficult to believe, because I’m still trying to process it myself… Sh-... She’s a fairy, a-and…” She swallows hard, redirecting. “Yanari wished for a disease only she could cure, and then intentionally infected people, specifically fairies and those travelling with fairies, ideally. The price for the cure was a wish.”
When none of the three officers belonging to the village object or outburst, Murtoa replies quietly, “You suspected her already.”
The sheriff replies, “Suspect is a strong word, but… It makes more than enough sense, unfortunately. Yanari was always… self-interested. She possessed great amounts of magic, but would never use it to help out in any way. She never healed any of our sick, nor combatted wild animals. She’s not necessarily obligated to, because she provided for herself at all times, but she certainly didn’t win much favor in the village. Occasionally, and only occasionally, she showed kindness, but very rarely more than sharing small amounts of food with children like Two-leaf there, or purifying the water supply, since she used it as well. Of course, not without demanding payment.”
The female deputy nods, “She always rubbed me the wrong way, like she was hiding something and taunting us with it.”
Lykha sighs, “I know the feeling. And I knew her for only a couple days.”
The sheriff asks, “Is she…?”
Murtoa explains, “She’s dead.”
This causes more of a reaction, but Lykha quickly explains, “We undid the wishes she made, but to do so, we undid ALL of them. This included wishes that made her live much longer than a fairy should, so she aged to her proper age, and died as a result.”
The sheriff sighs, “I see… While she has much to answer for, if this is all true, I suppose the worst of it is finally over.”
Two fairies suddenly appear from nearby, and the younger sister of the two exclaims, “It is true! Yanari made me use my wish to save my sister, and then, she used my sister’s wish, too!”
Seaevvi, the older sister, nods, “I swear on my life, what these people have said is true. They saved us.”
Lykha grumbles, “YOU two were supposed to stay quiet for your own good.”
Lunesse exclaims in reply, “We couldn’t just let them be suspicious of you!”
Murtoa replies sincerely, “Thank you. But, it was unnecessary.”
“True,” agrees the sheriff. “But, it’s good to know that there are corroborating witnesses. And, the plague is very clearly gone. We saw it vanish from the end of town.” He points at the other branch towards the far end where the town ends, and from where Lykha saw the oasis in the first place.
The sheriff says softly, “Thank you… You don’t know what this means for our town…”
Lykha smiles gently, “I’m glad we were able to help.”
Maerin replies with a wave of her hand, "We never turn down pay."
Lykha whispers, "Maerin!"
However, the sheriff counters, "No, she's right. I promised pay, even if it was a little sarcastically. Come by my office before you depart, and we'll give you a bounty payout. You deserve it. And, Maerin, right? You were the one who sold soap and traded with antibiotics, right?"
The mature fairy shifts, ready to duck into Gyrryth's bag. She hesitantly replies, "Yes…?"
The sheriff nods, "People have been asking us to find you since. How would you like to be our pharmacist?"
"Come again?" asks Maerin in surprise.
The sheriff explains, "I'm being told your soap alone is curbing marsh rash, and it even moisturizes skin. And, all of our patients who were able to receive antibiotics recovered already. There's a demand for your services here."
Maerin replies skeptically, "I'm not a pharmacist by trade. I'm a simple chemist. Those two things are about all I can do."
"I'm sure you know those two things are far above our current ability this far from a city."
Maerin looks up at Lykha first, and then Gyrryth. She settles her gaze on Murtoa last.
No one wants to deny Maerin a safe and probably lucrative career that accepts her as she is and where her particular skills are in high demand. It's a win-win for Maerin and the village. But, she doesn't seem excited. Maybe she's worried about whether or not Mury's team needs her.
It’s also been a thought on Maerin’s mind, though she hasn’t said it to anyone, that the party’s dynamic will change greatly when Lykha is finally returned home, which isn’t much further now.
However, Murtoa says bluntly, “You can help out here, or you can continue helping me kill monsters. I’m not done with you yet.”
Maerin’s eyes waver as water starts to build up in them. She smiles, nodding. She faces the sheriff, replying professionally, “I’m truly sorry, but I have an important mission already. I’ll sell you what I have now, and even my recipes, and I’ll try to make them as simple to understand as possible, but I can’t stay here.”
The sheriff nods with a disappointed but understanding smile. “I understand. If ever it gets too rough for you out there, you’re welcome here. A lot safer than the path of Murtoa of Lakia.” The sheriff nods briefly at Murtoa, and Maerin replies, “Thank you.” She then says, “We’re actually on our way to trade some of my soap and a few other of my own concoctions now, so if you’ll please excuse us.”
The sheriff nods, “If you need anything, let me know. We’ll keep Sir Osmund under watch for the time being.”
Murtoa asks before he leaves, “Does Two-leaf have family here?”
This causes the sheriff to hesitate. Two-leaf replies, “Nope!” In spite of the answer, she doesn’t seem particularly upset by this.
The sheriff answers, “My predecessor mentioned that her parents disappeared. Never heard anything again. The town watches out for her, but…”
Murtoa replies, “We’re taking her with us.”
The female deputy objects, “You can’t!”
However, the sheriff stops her with a hand gesture. He asks with a cautious expression, “You’ll look after her?”
The human warrior nods. “I will. There are a few places southerners tend to settle when they escape north. Some of them are on our path.”
The sheriff looks at Two-leaf, who grips Murtoa’s cape, grinning up at the sheriff. He kneels down, asking her, “Is that what you want, Two-leaf?”
“Yep! I’ll get to travel with a fairy, another fairy, a lizardman, and this man! AND, and;” She leans close to the sheriff, whispering in his ear, though most of the group can hear, “We’re going to save the world.”
The sheriff scoffs. “Are you now?” He tousles her hair as he stands up, putting his hands on his hips. “Well, when you save the world, don’t forget about us here, alright? I’m gonna miss your stories.”
She smiles more sincerely, replying gently, “Thank you, Sheriff. I won’t.”
The sheriff replies to the group, “Don’t let me stand in your way. And, don’t forget to swing by the office. I’ll have your bounty ready.”
Murtoa nods, “We will. Thanks.”
Lykha looks around as everything seems to return to a brief moment of normalcy. Her once-reclusive and anti-social monster-hunting companion has adopted another member into their party; another almost literal stray person, for very little reason. It’s unknown if Two-leaf even has any skills at all, or what she could contribute to the group. And yet, he accepted her so easily, simply because in her strange mind, she believes he is someone important to her.
Why, Lykha has no idea.
***