The morning light coming from the windows partially covered with curtains fell on to Azlan’s face as he slept. Mountalian days were always overcast due to its cloudy weather, rarely was the sun unobstructed, and shone in all of its glory.

The white daylight came into the room in the form of thin shimmering streaks and illuminated some parts of the otherwise fairly dimly lit room. Beowulf opened his eyes due to his vison turning into a shade of dull red due to the light. It was an indication that it was time to get up.

He could see the calm, slowly moving dust particles in the rays of light.

With a deep breath he lifted off the sheet and got up. The snow leopard was absent last night when he had arrived. But now he lay in a corner, sleeping almost peacefully. But his ears moved occasionally, ever so lightly due to the noises of everyday life of the town.

Now that he lay there quietly, he seemed no different than a domestic cat.

A domestic cat that could tear someone apart in a few instances, if he wished so.

He must have snuck in through the window, quite an impossible task for an average human of course, but it was as easy as breathing for the feline being.

Azlan had no idea what he had been up to all night, last time they talked he had mentioned something about going to check out the news board of the town, but it couldn’t have taken him that long to simply look at the requests.

From what Beowulf had observed, he was sure that the snow leopard would return to him as soon as he saw a request he was satisfied with. The chances that it had left on his own to complete the request, without consulting with Beowulf for information, were low.

He dressed into his clothes as silently as he could, he didn’t want to wake him up, the act of him sleeping was already nothing short of a blessing to him and he wouldn’t ruin that by waking him up. Besides, it was quite possible he was tried and didn’t want to be woken up.

Azlan grabbed his gauntlets, satchel and bag and exited the room.

The town was relatively calm at this time of the day, the festivities only escalated during the night.

Today was the second day of the festival, and it would be revealed tonight that which woman of the town got the title of ‘Aprilla Queen’. Beowulf had no idea how the judging system worked, and he didn’t care enough to guess about it.

Stolen story; please report.

But he had a hunch it was either rigged, or had some political or sociological decision making behind the nomination.

Such menial thoughts were crossing his mind as he reached the dining area, he had to eat something before he departed to complete his tasks. Unlike yesterday when he had come to the inn at noon, today the tables at the dining area were fairly lively. People belonging to many categories were eating breakfast, people who were unmarried, travelers such as himself and some people were simply there for the sake of keeping company to their friends.

As he passed by the reception desk, the girl with braids called out to him.

“Ah- dear patron, your table has already been reserved, it is the 2nd last table to the left corner”, she said.

He wondered for a second by who, but then the encounter from last night crossed his mind, he had promised someone to meet at morning, hadn’t he?

Azlan nodded in thanks to the receptionist and proceeded to the table.

And soon enough, he spotted Alwyna sitting at a table near the corner, she seemed to be wolfing down food without a care in the world, in contrast to her appearance, her lack of manners was apparent.

Beowulf couldn’t care less about a lack of manners, he was no aristocrat.

As she saw him approaching, she lifted her arm up and gave a wave.

“Morning”, she said as Beowulf dragged a chair and took a seat. “Sleep well?”

“Somewhat, what about you yourself?” he put his belongings at the ground.

“Could have been better, but work is work”, she said taking a spoonful of onion soup. “Deciding to work for sovereignty wasn’t the best idea maybe”.

“You work for the sovereign?” he poured water into a glass from a steel jug sitting in front of him.

“Surprised?” there was a certain playfulness in her voice.

“I haven’t seen a wendigo mingle with bureaucracy before”, he expressed his experience.

“Then you haven’t been around much, hunting monsters isn’t all there is to it”, she raised her hand to get attention of a waitress.

“That is quite different from what I’ve been told, the wendigo only have one unspoken code, and that is to maintain neutrality in the long term of things”, he put his elbow on the table and rested. “Dabbling in politics seems a good way to become biased”.

“Neutrality is important, but in the larger context it doesn’t matter as much as you think it does. I’m not taking anyone’s side, Beowulf. It is just an easy job, and I get paid a handsome amount of gold for it. Why bother risking my life everyday just to live frugally when I can do the exact opposite by putting in minimal effort?” she explained eloquently.

She had a fair point.

.....She had a fair point but Beowulf couldn’t come to agree with it.

“I think you worry too much about remaining neutral, I don’t blame you though. You went ahead and murdered an entire town after all, and earned that rather morbid sounding name”.

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