Foas’s household is squalid but homely. Going through the door, the air feels as old as its elderly inhabitant. A roughly wooden table covered by a ripped cotton blanket sits along the wall. Foas draws the curtains on the dying sunlight, peering through the only window. Cenvin yawns and stretches his arms in the middle of the space. He eyes a corner, where a fuzzy black mold has propagated to. Foas seems to pay no notice. He takes his eyes off and turns to the door. Shyn, riding on Lenny, rides through.

“I see you don’t have a lot of furniture,” Cenvin observes, “No restrooms, no kitchen. You call this a home, old man?”

Durand shoots him a disapproving glance but Foas chuckles warmly.

“Ah, young one, fret not! The Royalty hath seen to all—public privies set at every turn, and victuals for nigh on no coin at all. As for me, I oft take me rest upon the table, though I’d not mind yieldin’ it to thy fine beast. A soft spot, that table, and a kindness well-earned!”

Lenny shrugs.

“First of all, o’ kind elder, I am not a beast, but a worthy druid whose wild shape hath gone wrong, thus trapping my body in this form-”

“Ugh, don’t try to imitate him. One person speaking in period-accurate slang is already overwhelming.”

“I will gladly give Shyn the spot, as she is a weak child.”

“Don’t fret, Foas. We all have our gear and sleeping bags with us,” Durand assures. “You have already done us a great favor by providing us with hospitality.”

The party begins unraveling their packs as Shyn hops happily on the table.

“Oldie! Except for the funny-talking furry, I don’t like any of these guys! Why are they here? I hate them!”

“Why do you just don’t like grown-ups in general? Back at the square you were talking about how we could bleed to death or somethin’, like, what’s your problem, baby? You know you’re also about to become a grownup in a few years, right?”

Cenvin leans against the wall, arms crossed. Shyn does a final hop and sits on the table, legs dangling nonchalantly.

“Well, creepy guy, by the time I become a grownup the bad grownups will be all dead!”

“Why would they be dead?”

“Because I would have killed them all by then!”

Foas interrupts.

“Ah, a heavy tale that, my young friend. The lass was but a babe when them scoundrels, the Orions, laid their wicked hands upon her—experimentin', were they? Saints preserve us! Yet she found her strength and fled their clutches. 'Tis no wonder she guards her heart so fiercely. Pray, pardon her ways; cruel hands have shaped her past, and trust comes not easy when life's been so unkind.”

“Damn!” Cenvin kicks a hole through the wall furiously. Lenny quickly casts Mending on it. “These Starmetal goons again!”

“You know these guys? Can you help me kill them?” Shyn asks eagerly. Her eyes light up in maddening passion.

Once again, Foas interjects.

“Aye, let us take our rest. The night beckons, and wearied souls need their peace. Sleep well, young ones.”

Shortly after the rest had fallen asleep, Durand opened his sealed eyes in the middle of the night. His pupils seem to glint in the dark, matching Foas’s restless gaze. They walk out of the house together and enter a narrow street, nearby shops closed and no moving things in sight.

“You know, only night feels normal now, there’s no sunlight,” Durand peers into the eternally black sky. Foas, despite not being gifted, agrees.

“Ah, a night owl, art thou? I oft burn the midnight oil meself, tinkerin’ or tendin’ to the wares,” he glances back in the direction of his little stand, “The quiet hours have a charm, don’t they?”

“I can’t agree more. The party should operate at night, not the day, where everything feels uncanny and unnatural. Tomorrow, I will tell the party my idea, and… does Shyn like the dark?”

“Ah, I see thou art curious about little Shyn, and rightly so—she’s a bright spark, she is. But I must beseech thee, good sir, do not drag her into whatever shenanigans thou hast with them Orions. 'Tis my fondest fancy to be a steadfast guardian to her, to raise her into a fine woman, untouched by such troubles, and let her life unfold in peace.”

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“I will honor your decision, sir,” Durand nods grimly.

Noticing a wraith gliding around the distant turn, Durand hurries Foas back to the house.

“Where’s Shyn?”

Fresh and rested, Cenvin says. Lenny raises his sleepy eyes and looks left and right at the room. Durand is deeply asleep, but Foas is sitting upright.

“What?”

A hint of fear is in Foas’s voice.

“Ah, now see what’s come of it! She ne’er steps out like this—ne’er! And now she’s gone, all on account o’ thee! What hast thou done, lads?”

Teary beads form in his eyes.

“Ne’er!”

“Calm down, old man, didn’t you say all the restrooms are public? Maybe she needed to go?” Cenvin suggests.

Lenny lowers his nose and sniffs aggressively.

“Follow,” he growls.

The party leaves a weeping Foas and follows an urgently sniffing Lenny. He expertly hunts down the invisible scent, and they eventually run to a shallow alleyway, where the noises of the main streets can be heard. A few meters below them is a clearing where a group of large kids, edging towards teenage years, kicking a small form on the floor. Some of them aim for her neck, but it hasn’t been broken yet thanks to her viridescent scarf, now stained brown. Cenvin turns incredibly purple and yells at the bullies.

“You little bastards! I’ll make sure you feel-”

He slumps, comatose.

Durand sighs and jumps down to break up the kids, but he pauses when a spectacular red heart comes flying out from one of the kids, whose torso is exploding into crimson confetti.

“Sicks!” Shyn slowly stands up in wonder, examining the gore on her hands. The kids around her fall to the floor, paralyzed with pure shock. She picks a piece of liver out of her bone and points her hand at another kid. His head instantly evaporates, leaving a fountain of blood from his splurting neck. Durand narrows his eyes.

“Is that my ability? But… I can’t use it on organics, how is she doing that? How is she… copying my ability in the first place??”

Lenny also leaps down. Durand quickly grabs him and whispers.

“What’s your ability? Oh yeah, speaking of which you never use it, but she might be able! What is it?”

Lenny slowly spits out one word:

“G…l…o…w.”

The yellow light of a fireball emanates behind Durand. He turns to see another kid’s body seared by a golden floating orb, not quite fireball-like, resembling more closely to a small sun. He writhes in pain as the smell of charred flesh floats into the air. Shyn pushes the orb into the kid’s body, snuffing out his screams. She breathes deeply and sits down amongst the carnage, marveling at her work with the eagerness of a young child. Her scarf is more crimson than brown. Durand touches her shoulder and she turns around.

“Hai big guy! I got magic powers, did you see?”

Durand blankly takes in the slaughter around them. He nods. She waves her hands excitedly. He hurries back against the wall.

“I can melt stuff, make fireballs, ooh, even telekinesis!” She telepathically crushes a corpse’s skull. Its shards stab into Lenny’s fur and he begins briskly trying to get them out.

“But who has telekinesis?” Durand wonders. Shyn looks at him.

“What do you mean?”

Realization dawns on Lenny first.

“Run.”

Shyn screams as she is snatched by an invisible claw and raises her into the air. Durand leaps and slaps Cenvin’s face, jolting him awake, as a group of Orions bearing the Starmetal emblem and a slender woman, clad in pink-painted chain mail, come charging into the clearing. “Wake up, damn it! They’re taking Shyn!”

Cenvin leaps up.

“GODDAMN STARMETAL!”

An Orion directs Shyn’s invisible restraints to move her away from the party. The rest make a formation against the adventurers.

Cenvin tries to create a portal under the pink Orion, but he freezes mid-ability. The Orions charge and Durand is overpowered and pinned against the wall. Lenny snarls and leaps, but a blade catches him and he slams into the ground, breathless. An iron boot pins him against the floor.

“I should be introducing myself,” says the seeming leader, the pink woman. “You may call me Clyde. Stellar of Starmetal Valley. I believe you’ve met my comrade Kores already, hm?”

Her faceless voice has the sweetness of youth combined with the pride of royalty.

She circles Cenvin, now completely neutral. Durand angrily struggles against the Orions piled against him as he watches a sobbing Shyn float away. Clyde pushes Cenvin and he falls to the floor without resistance.

“Your friend’s mind is quite weak. So easy to control,” she walks to Durand.

She raises her arm and Durand feels a slam upon his mind. Bang after brutal crush, attack after relentless attack. He closes his eyes and focuses entirely on defending his soul. Seeing the lessened resistance, some Orions restraining him let go and go to help hold down a shrieking Lenny.

“Strong, impressive.”

Durand’s walls begin to crack.

“But you can’t defend a siege forever.”

He gives in.

By the time his puppeteer lets go, the Orions are already gone. Durand pounds the wall furiously while Cenvin sits in utter confusion, staring at the gore of Shyn’s work. Lenny is deathly silent.

A mad Shyn-like glint radiates from Durand’s eyes.

“Foas didn’t want Shyn to be dragged into this. It’s our fault she was captured.”

“Lucius said we should go on break. Let’s just go to our penthouse and rest,” Cenvin lazily suggests. Durand looks his disheartened friend in the eyes. He draws his longsword and lightly slices his arm, drawing blood. He rubs his cut against the length of his sword, staining it red.

“I swear by my blood, that I will ensure Shyn is safe. We will save her.”

“I can follow their scent.”

“Fine. I can deal damage.”

Determined once more, the hunters begin the hunt.

Counting the deaths of the last chapter added with this one’s slaughtered children, we now have reached a death count of 571! Can we give it up to our adventurers for causing so much bloodshed? And hey, if you don’t like the violence, it's not my problem. Graphic warnings, it’s on the page. But if you like reading about NPCs getting beat up, I think you’ll enjoy the next chapter!