Arturo arrived at Holbeck, a town in Eshil Domain. He still couldn’t believe his sister was alive. How had she survived? Why was she with the Whispering Mists? So many questions and no answers. When she told him not to follow, he wanted to disobey. But she was right. If he followed, he might as well plunge his sword into his heart.

He was many things, but a fool he was not. Arturo was confident he would have won the fight against the Whispering Mists, though he suspected he would have taken some injuries.

The last thing he wanted to do was endanger Jen, and she wouldn’t want him to get himself killed. Realizing this, he made his way to Holbeck, to think and to see what he could do next. There had to be a way to reach his sister.

There weren’t many guards in this town, but there were plenty of people. It looked like a festival, at least judging by the many shops and people bustling about. Reminds me of home, Arturo thought wistfully. Competitions, food, and many people to talk to. Not something he wanted to deal with now.

He put his horse in a stable and strolled around. It was a warm day. The sun was shining without a cloud in sight. Arturo enjoyed the warmth, especially after the recent cold. A group of children were play-fighting with sticks while their parents stood nearby.

The first thing he would do was eat, then ask around about the Whispering Mists. Arturo wanted to know the location of their camp. What he would do with that information he didn’t know. He would be content with keeping track of the clan and hope for an opportunity to talk with his sister.

Arturo walked into the first inn and was turned away because they had no rooms free. The next three were also full and he began to worry he wouldn’t find a room. The festival had the town overflowing with people. It took him over an hour of walking around, asking for directions on inns before he found one.

The festival was celebrating the king of Eshil Domain, Harold Ackmard. It was a tradition that each king of Eshil Domain would choose a day to be celebrated every year. Harold chose this one once he was sworn in. Food would be donated and travelers didn’t want to miss the festival, especially in the bigger cities.

The inn was called the Whisky, and it wasn’t pretty. Arturo walked inside and noted the dirty floors and disreputable-looking people. There was even a guard standing inside, watching the guests closely. One man was lying on the ground with blood leaking out of his nose and his opponent was standing over him, laughing.

A few of the guests glanced at him before returning to their food and drinks. Arturo wasn’t expecting good food here, but he secured a room and meals for two days, then took a seat in the corner. His cloak concealed his sword and he waited patiently for the food, which arrived five minutes later.

The meal was just cheese and bread; no meat because the inn had run out. Arturo finished his meal quickly and listened to the talk around him. This was a habit of his. Rumors always flowed freely in an inn and he wanted to monitor potential sightings of the invaders.

Much ale and wine had been consumed as the day went on. Now was the time to ask questions. Arturo got up from his corner and approached the first group, asking if they knew where the Whispering Mists were camped. He was given an odd look and told they don’t know and to leave them alone.

That happened repeatedly for the next hour. Nobody he asked knew where the group was camping and some didn’t know who the Whispering Mists were. Getting frustrated with the results, he went up to another group, and a middle-aged man with four missing teeth grinned at him.

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

“Aye, I know where. They’re half a day’s ride to the west. Head toward the main road toward Mortham Tower. You can’t miss them.”

“Thanks,” Arturo said and handed the man a silver. The man goggled at the money and scuttled away as if scared someone would take the coin.

Half a day’s ride. Arturo took a seat and pondered what to do. Could he sneak into the camp, grab Jen and get out? Unlikely; not if the Whispering Mists’ reputation was true. There had to be a way to get his sister. It was eating him up, knowing she was alive and not able to talk with her.

Eventually, he turned in for the night.

Arturo woke up to the sound of banging and screaming from downstairs. His bed creaked when he got up. It was a nasty bed, definitely not one he would want to sleep in again, though he might not have a choice. His back ached and he did a few stretches, which helped dull the aching.

Still unsure of what to do about Jen, he opened his door and headed out into the common room. There were lots of excited folk around this morning, all talking. Arturo ignored them and debated on ordering food or going somewhere else.

“Did you hear what happened in Talin Grad?”

“Yeah, an attack from some raiders.”

“Who?”

“I dunno. Someone told me they had a dark banner with a hand on a sword or something like that.”

Arturo walked up to the gossipers. “What did you say?” he asked sharply.

The group looked at him with disgust. “None of your business!”

In a rage, Arturo grabbed the man who’d spoken and slammed him into a wall. The room went silent as they watched what was going on. “You will tell me what you know of this attack or I will kill you and ask your friends.” He tightened his grip on the man’s shirt, lifting his feet inches off the ground.

“Okay, okay! Let me down and I’ll tell you!”

“You better,” Arturo warned and dropped him.

Gasping for breath, the man straightened. “All right! Talin Grad was attacked two days ago, overtaken by a group of raiders who are keeping a solid grip on the town. Nobody knows why. Some of the townspeople are going to other towns, requesting aid, and a counter-attack is being organized. It’s all I know.”

The invaders. They’ve finally come back. Arturo stood for a moment before rushing toward the door and brushing past a few people in his way. They had finally come back. This was his chance to get revenge, especially if the warrior who’d killed his brothers was there. Please be there. I need to kill you before I die.

People darted out of his way to avoid him. A child asked what was wrong with him and a couple of shop keepers asked if he wanted anything. Arturo ignored them all.

After all this time, the invaders had returned and were within riding distance. If he pushed Sheila hard, Arturo could arrive in two or three days. He would have to wait for the counter-attack. Even he knew it would be stupid to rush into Talin Grad by himself.

Talin Grad was located near the Robris Ocean, much like when the invaders had attacked Arindall from the Unknown Waters. Whoever these people were, they knew the oceans and how to navigate to where they wanted to go. Part of him wondered if Arindall or a neighboring town, Tarvorren, were under attack at the same time.

Was this the beginning of the invasion that King Lerin had warned them all about? Arturo hoped so. The other nations weren’t going to work together but the sooner the war began, the sooner he could get his revenge if the man he was looking for wasn’t at Talin Grad.

He made it to the stable, untied his horse, and then froze. Arturo had forgotten about his sister! In his rage, he had lost sight of the last person alive in his family. Could he go after these invaders and leave Jen? How would she react if he went to Talin Grad and died before they could speak?

Why now? Why couldn’t Jen have shown herself earlier! Arturo clenched his fists tightly, wishing there was a sign of what he should do: Get revenge or find a way to speak with Jen. The answer should have been easy, yet it was far from it. He wanted to go to Talin Grad.

Jen had told him not to follow. Arturo relaxed his muscles and made his decision. Jen had told him he would regret following, which left him only one choice. He would go to Talin Grad and avenge the rest of his family.

Arturo got on his horse and galloped out the gates toward Talin Grad. He focused on the image of the man he hoped to kill when he got there.