Sirena awoke from her slumber with a smile plastered on her face. She was pleasantly surprised that she did not have a migraine or feel nauseous despite the previous night’s escapade.

Sirena and two people she had met five days prior, Lyra and Qadir, decided a drinking contest would be an excellent idea. This was while they waited for the final team members.

At first, she and Lyra refused to entertain the idea. Still, Qadir insisted it was an essential custom in his homeland to build fellowship and trust between unknown tribes. As a courtesy, the two acquiesced.

Despite her petite frame, she kept pace and beat the massive man. She expected the night’s regret to affect her, but to her surprise, she was unaffected.

Sirena Wavecaller was an Elementalist from the Forbidden Isles, a cluster of islands off the mainland. She specialized in elemental healing and protection, making her Jax’s first choice for a team to handle a job for him.

She almost wished the Great Intelligence hadn’t blessed her with her gifts.

Like many from the Isles, Sirena had bronze skin from years of working on ships and being in the sun. She had blueish-green eyes and hair the color of seafoam, by-products of her magic.

Sirena’s diminutive frame was covered in a simple tunic and rough-spun linen pants. They were awash in cheap beer and sweat.

A wave of nausea hit her when she smelled the clothes, causing her to heave. She quickly changed into another set of simple clothes. This set, however, was adorned with simple handmade jewelry made of shells and pearls.

Sirena left her room and headed to the dining area.

The dining area was a spacious and well-lit room made from dark wood and stone, capable of housing a hundred people comfortably. The space was filled with round dark wood tables spaced evenly apart.

The walls were decorated with carved murals and intricate tapestries of local legends and mighty battles. According to Lyra, they represented events before the fall. She did not know more than that, and the village people were unwilling to divulge more.

Chatter was in some pockets of the dining room. Several people enjoyed a morning meal before heading out to start their day. Sirena smiled when she heard a boisterous, strongly accented voice dominate the space.

At a table in the center of the room sat two people.

The voice’s owner was a man who stood out as an outsider due to his appearance and mannerisms. Qadir al-Rashid was a horse lord from a region commonly known as “The Crossroads,” the home of many of the continent’s primary trade roots. The Empire of the Divine Covenant constantly battled other nations to control the area.

Qadir was a tall, muscular man with deep brown skin and striking brown eyes. He wore his black hair in long braids, often adorned with beads and feathers.

He wore flowing robes and turbans of delicate, brightly colored fabrics. Still, he wore riding gear, a leather tunic, and trousers. Metal plates were affixed to the leather to protect his chest and shoulders.

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“Cheer up, my friend. The pounding in your skull only means you truly honored your ancestors.” Qadir chuckled as he slapped the back of a pale-faced woman, knocking her onto the table.

The woman was Lyra; she gave no information about herself during the week they knew each other. She had a slim, agile figure with lean muscles. She had sharp, angular features with piercing green eyes and jet-black hair in a ponytail. She wore form-fitting, light armor that allowed her to move quickly and silently. She carried a small dagger strapped to her thigh for defense.

Lyra glared at Qadir while clutching her head. The previous night’s drinking affected her.

She said something in a low voice that Sirena could not hear. However, whatever it was, Qadir’s face lit up with a smile, and he rushed to the counter.

“I see the big guy is enjoying himself,” Sirena said, walking up to Lyra and sitting beside her.

Lyra sighed while messaging her temples. “Can you be any more loud? I could hear you stomping around in your room.”

Sirena laughed at her companion’s expense when Lyra shot her a withering glare.

“Use some of your healing water on me and cure me of this infernal headache,” Lyra groaned. “I’m never letting Qadir convince me of anything again.”

“Unfortunately, my abilities are not up to fixing your hangover, but I can create several tinctures that might help you.”

Lyra groaned as she collapsed onto the surface of the table.

It was then that Qadir returned to the table smiling.

“My friends, I am glad to see you awake and doing well, unlike some people,” He whispered conspiratorially at the end.

“Even impaired, I can hear every word you say, giant,” Lyra growled.

“Yes, my friend. I am well aware of your heightened senses.”

He placed herbal tea in front of the prone woman.

“This should help. It is a drink commonly enjoyed by the Warriors of Narin, who popularized the tradition.”

“Oh, that’s neat,” said Sirena.

Lyra slid the drink closer to herself.

“So Qadir, did Jax inform you how long we’ll have to wait for our new allies?” Asked Sirena after flagging down one of the wait staff for a meal.

“Yes. Jax said his diviner said they should make it within an hour.” He chuckled. “They got lost in the sea of green following an old map, so they are delayed.”

The giant man adjusted his armor. Sirena could see that a pattern of horses trampling a man was embossed on his chest.

“I plan to meet them at the village’s boundary before seeing the village elder. We have been idle for too long.

“Are we heading out too?” Sirena asked.

“That is what I had originally planned for us, but someone needs to keep an eye on that.” He pointed to Lyra, who nursed her drink. “She does not look capable of traveling.”

She groaned before waving Qadir’s worries aside. “No, I should be fine after a walk. Delaying any further would only harm us more.”

Lyra took another sip from the cup.

“Besides, people are restless."

At those words, Sirena and Qadir noticed that the few patrons in the tavern gave them odd glances.

“We have been here for five days and have yet to stop the ‘curse’ that plagues them. I am surprised that they could sit still for this long. If you leave and we stay behind, it will only cause more issues.”

Qadir nodded at Lyra’s words. A dark cloud settled over the man as he thought about the most appropriate action.

Sirena remembered when they entered the village of Dunleafern. The people looked fearful and desperate. They begged them to save them from their terrible plight.

The occasional widow, grieving parent, or lost child swarmed them when they first entered; however, the village elder managed to calm the riled masses.

He told them to “find him when they were ready.”

It was then that Sirena remembered why she agreed to drink with Qadir.

“Your words hold merit. I did not consider residence views,” Qadir said.

He rose from his seat and combed his braids with one hand.

“We should be ready to leave in twenty minutes; that should give you enough time to eat.”

“And what are you intending to do?” Sirena asked.

Qadir smiled down at her like she was a child asking an obvious question.

“I must ensure Nalira is ready.”