*** Amelia ***

The music stopped, laughter died. Terror mixed with awe spread through the room. Everyone stared with eyes wide, mouths hanging open. Even Karl, the blacksmith, had stopped drinking. His drunken stupor vanished as he sat up straight with a solemn look on his face. In the midst of the onlookers, only one smile graced the scene.

Amelia, the priestess, sighed in relief and whispered a prayer of gratitude. For months, she had beseeched the Great Mother for aid in their most trying of times. With the impending arrival of the Dark Night in three days, memories of the last one, claiming the lives of their three strongest warriors, haunted her. Uncertain if they would endure another onslaught, Amelia had hoped for a Knight or even a seasoned Man-at-arms.

However, she never dared to dream of such a savior as the one that just walked through the door. The overwhelming realization left her speechless and humbled. With unwavering certainty, she believed that the Great Mother had heard her fervent prayers and deemed her sacrifices worthy of such a magnificent boon. Overwhelmed by gratitude, she felt an urgent need to offer a tribute at the altar as a token of thanks.

“What’s a bloody Drakon Hellbringer doing here?” Darya, her younger sister, hissed to Amelia.

“I-I don’t believe he’s a Drakon, is he?” Amelia replied.

“Ya don’t?”

"He does not bear the resemblance of a typical Drakon, does he? One might expect features of an alligator – snouts, big teeth, and fully covered in scales."

“So he's a bit of an odd Drakon, big deal. Do you see the sheer size of his damn horns? The last time someone of that power rolled through here, we ended up with a damn orphanage. He’s dangerous, and I don’t trust him one bit.”

“Great Mother has sent him to us just as the Dark Night is upon us,” Amelia said. “I don’t know if we could survive yet another after our numbers have faltered. Her will is clear to me, and I cannot have you speak ill of our savior.”

Darya snorted. “Savior? Pfft. Just watch, you’ll be digging graves for weeks again. That’s if we live and there’s something left to bury.”

“Have faith, Darya, and it will be rewarded.”

Darya rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

Amelia watched with great interest as the newcomer engaged in a hushed discussion with the innkeeper. Even from a distance, she could discern beads of sweat on Frank's forehead, watching him tightly gripping the towel in his hand with knuckle-white tension.

“What do you think he’s saying to Frank?” Amelia asked Darya.

“How would I know? Probably telling him to bring some real food and not this-” Darya imitated a retching sound and pushed aside her bowl of half-finished gruel.

Past winter and into the spring, the selection of food at the inn was nonexistent to meager at best. It was the same rye bread, moldy cheese, and stew for the past month. Only the ones who had drunk enough beer were in sufficiently good spirits to continue eating.

“What's bugging me is why he's lugging around rocks, and wearing only pants," Darya remarked. "It's pretty chilly out there, you know? And shouldn't he have a weapon and armor or something?”

Amelia looked puzzled for a moment. “I’m not entirely sure to be honest. Perhaps it is some kind of a Drakon custom? They are an ancient warrior culture and have peculiar traditions. Also, someone like him wouldn’t be bothered by the cold like the rest of us.”

Darya scoffed. “Look at him take the chief’s table like he’s in charge.”

“I must say, but that is not far from the truth, as you shall see.” Amelia summoned up courage to stand up, yet her legs felt shaky. “I must go and speak with him.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Darya groaned. “Yeah, alright, just don’t piss him off, okay? I want to live.”

***

I had asked for scraps, or leftovers, and was willing to dive into the dumpster in the back if they had one. The innkeeper wouldn't have any of it. Instead, he brought me a full meal and a tankard of ale. He must have misunderstood me, and now I’d be stuck trying to pay off a hefty inn tab -- a worry for future Kevin. I drooled over the bowl of hearty stew, freshly-baked bread, and aged cheese. It was an amazing meal, and the service was incredibly fast. The innkeeper looked relieved when I finally backed away from him. Sure, I just crawled out of the swamp, but I didn’t smell that bad.

The uneven wooden floor creaked underfoot as I walked to the only empty table away from everyone else. I was certain they wouldn’t want a monster sitting so close to them. Yet, I kept my eyes on the locals the entire time. A few men had swords sheathed at their hips, but nobody reached for them. Some got up and quietly left out the door. I hoped it wasn’t so they could come back fully armored. I had a contingency plan just in case, and it was the reason I sat so close to the window.

Aside from the villagers, the inn felt welcoming. It was illuminated by candlelight and the flames of a roaring hearth which cast a gentle warmth. The air was thick with the savory aroma of roasting meats and the yeasty fragrance of ale. Heavy wooden tables, worn smooth by years of use, were scattered throughout the common room, each surrounded by rough-hewn stools. Tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of knights on horseback, mythical creatures, and landscapes of distant realms. In a corner, a minstrel looked confused.

These locals matched my mental image of a typical villager—long dresses, cloth caps, shawls, and drab colors. Yet, they weren’t entirely human, but a hell of a lot closer than me. Two odd features stood out, acorn-sized horns at the corners of their foreheads, and pointy ears. Were they elves, demons, or what? [Keen Eye] showed them as ‘Human [Gray].’

I finally ceased trembling from the cold, and my teeth stopped chattering so I could chew. And chew I did with my new teeth capable of biting through solid bone. My mouth was stuffed with food when one of the locals approached and stopped across from me at the table.

The young lady wore a distinctive religious attire—a black robe adorned with a silver amulet bearing an unfamiliar symbol. Her face carried a serene expression, and her eyes conveyed a quiet determination, coupled with a gentle demeanor.

“Greetings,” she said with a nervous smile. “M-My name is Amelia.”

To her, I must have looked like a wild animal that just broke into someone’s house. While I couldn’t hide the unsightly horns on my head, I could hide my clawed, scaled hands out of sight under the table.

Mouth full, I tried to smile politely. I hastily chewed and swallowed a mouthful. “Hi. I’m Kevin.”

“I uhm, I-I hope the meal is to your satisfaction?” she said with a few nervous stutters.

“It’s excellent. Thank you.”

“Has your journey been a pleasant one? I understand Rosedale is a bit out of the way.”

Lady, I had died earlier today in a fire, then fell out of some black wall the size of a mountain into a swamp full of lizards. Also, for some damned reason I looked like a monster.

“Yeah … very pleasant,” I tried to hide the sarcasm. “Thank you for asking.”

Was she sent as a distraction or something? I glanced around to make sure that none of the locals were up to something fishy. A few more had left the premises, but the remaining seemed quite interested in my conversation with Amelia. I checked over my shoulder to confirm the way out of the window was still clear and unguarded.

“Will you be staying at this inn?” she asked.

“I’m still unsure if, uhm ..”

“If it’s not to your liking, m-may I be so bold as to offer you a room at the abbey? The priest who had occupied it had regretfully passed away.”

“Uhm, yeah. Sure, that sounds lovely,” I said.

I wondered how she expected me to pay for the room. Or perhaps it was less of a room, and more of a shelter for the poor and the homeless? I couldn’t say no to that. It had to be cheaper than staying at the inn, especially since I barely had any money. How long would a single gold coin last me anyway?

“As I’m sure you’re well aware, the Dark Night will be here in just three days,” she said with a more serious voice.

“Mhm,” I nodded along, yet had no idea what she was talking about. It had to be more of this world’s magical nonsense. Was it some kind of a werewolf thing? Was she afraid I’d transform into something even more vicious looking?

“Okay.” She smiled pleasantly. “I-I’ll let you eat in peace.”

I smiled back. “Pleasure talking to you.”

She was awfully nice. Almost too nice. I didn’t like that sort -- they’d pretend to be super sweet, but have something up their sleeve. And the more sweet and caring she became, the more suspicious I got. Her little nun outfit wasn’t fooling me either. Some of the worst people I met were nuns.

However, this wasn’t the time for it. She was offering me shelter, and I was more than happy to accept, grateful even. Still, what was her angle? What could she possibly want from me?