“Fuck…” I whispered, but the tanned woman quickly shoved her hand against my mouth, silencing me.

The elderly man, tanned himself, with more than a passable resemblance to the much younger woman, looked at me, and then to her, nodding, as if he immediately understood the situation, and knew what to do.

“I’ll be right out,” he said with a low, grumbling voice, and with a bit of an ascent that I couldn’t place—like I could, even if I wanted to. He went to the door, but before he opened it, cocked his head indicating something to the woman who returned a nod of approval.

She grabbed my shirt, pulling me, while also keeping low to the ground. I followed her lead, crawling against the dusty wooden floor, until we came upon a skinned rug of an animal I didn’t recognize. She pushed an edge back, gently easing it aside to reveal a cellar that led below.

Excitedly, I opened my mouth to say something, but Dragon roared in the back of my mind, saying, “Fool!” Reluctantly, I closed my mouth.

The woman pulled the hatch open, at least, she tried. As she pulled, the cellar made low clinking sounds, but wouldn’t budge. The knocks became louder, and I heard the grumblings of threats being made and the old man uttering apology after apology as he stalled.

I moved the woman aside and tried myself, but damn, that hatch must have been rusted shut. We looked at each other wordlessly, and I noticed a small glow from her left cheek. With no time to think about it, we both grabbed the hinge, and dug our fingers into the edge of the cellar door. Together, we pulled, and, finally, it opened, throwing us back with a thud.

At the same time, someone barged into the door, the wood giving an audible cracking sound. The woman jumped down into the darkness below, and I, quite unsure of what was happening, followed more slowly. I felt the stairs under me, and I walked down each step deliberately. I saw the desperate face of the old man who seemed to silently scream for me to hurry. I lifted my arm back to make sure the rug was still draped over the cellar door, ducked my head, and closed it, a soft clicking sound indicating it had locked once again.

I descended the steps in pure darkness, and, not a moment after the cellar door had closed, I heard the old man open the door upstairs, multiple footsteps immediately trampling into the house, causing dust to fall on my head.

I recognized the first voice as the guard who knocked on the door. “What took so long, old man?”

The old man seemed to fumbled on his words, and I was sure that it was an act. I saw it before in his eyes, they were still sharp; clear. This was not the product of an addled mind, but the determined choice of a decidedly clever one.

“Look at him, sir,” another voice said, sounding considerably younger. “He’s got the Radiant Rot. A bad case at that.”

“So,” the first replied. “I’ve heard nothing of it affecting the mind.”

“I have!” a third joined, noticeably panicked. “I’ve even heard it’s dangerous to us if it’s this bad. We should get out of here.”

“Not until he answers my questions!” the first replied, angrily. “You, old man, did you see a girl come in here? She had long dark hair, and she’s wanted for questioning. She may be in the presence of a man, but I don’t have a description of him. Only that they’re both human.” I heard the Sentinel spit on the floor.

“I have a granddaughter with dark hair,” he said. “Oh, but she’s gone. Gone away, so far away… My niece used to come and bring me Lillard fruit, she’d make the most wonderful pies. Oh, have you seen my son anywhere? I swear he was just here—”

“Enough!” The first replied, exacerbated. “It’s not the Rot, but clearly the man's mind has been addled in other ways. He’ll be useless. Bah.” He seemed to break something wooden, like a stool against the floor. “Let’s go.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The three left quickly, slamming the door as they went. I was at the bottom of the stairs now, and as I went to climb back up, the woman reached, grabbing the bottom of my shirt.

“No,” she said simply. “Not yet. They’ll be waiting.”

I sighed, stepping down to the bottom of the dark, dingy cellar. It was stuffy as hell, and I couldn't even see my own hands, let alone anything else. Feeling around, I found a clear spot to sit on the ground. Leaning against what felt like stone, I let the coolness of it radiate through me. I sighed out, semi-relieved at the briskness it gave.

The woman grumbled as she searched for… something in the dark. Rummaging noisily through the contents of the cellar, she finally came upon the item she was looking for. I heard her breathe audibly, a long breath. Then, suddenly, like a translucent shade, a bright ghostly white light filled the room. In her hand I saw a type of beacon in the shape of… a mushroom.

Shaking my head, I asked, “Can those things do everything?”

The woman looked up at me curiously before setting it to a nearby table. She quickly turned and began rummaging once again through a heap of various items, throwing them clattering across the stone floor of the cellar.

A pan.

The broken leg of a chair.

Some paper.

Every item that banged against the floor frayed my nerves until I’d had enough. Walking to where the woman was rummaging, I sat beside her, asking, “What are we looking for?”

She turned, catching my eye. The ghastly white light lit up her deeply tanned face revealing a type of scar or marking on her cheek. It seemed to ripple colors from side to side, as if it were moving.

Alive.

Stupidly, I asked, “What’s on your face.”

I heard the slap echo throughout the cramped room before I felt any pain.

“Dragon,” I said into my mind. “Why didn’t I dodge that?”

He roared a furious laugh, as if he bellowed fire. “Because you deserved it!”

Ignoring him, I reached up, rubbing at my stinging face before asking again, “What are we looking for?”

Her teeth bared in a ferocious scowl, she turned from me, replying, “A weapon.”

“You plan on fighting?”

“No,” she replied mutely. “It’s for you. I know better than to rebel against our betters, but you, somehow, do not. Still, you saved me, as much as I would have prefered you left me alone. You’ve caused me and my father trouble, but you did it out of a kindness… I think. And kindness should not go unrewarded.” Finding what she was looking for, she pulled out a small dagger, whipping it eerily close to my face. “Here! For you. So that, when they come for you, you can die fighting.”

“Thanks,” I said, but took the dagger and the scabbard she handed off right behind it. I was getting quite used to knife-type weapons. Maybe even good at them. Dragon rumbled a low laugh in the back of my mind. I forced my thoughts on him, “... Fuck you.” Then, addressing the woman, I asked, “What about you? Aren’t they coming for you too?”

“Yes, which is why—” she suddenly emerged from the pile with a pair of scissors. Reaching up unceremoniously, she cut the long flows of her hair, dropping them to the floor where they scattered in individual strands. “There!” she proclaimed. “And now—” Reaching out, she lifted the glowing mushroom in her hand, then, surprisingly, she took a large bite.

I stepped back from her and she kneeled over, as if she would hurl. But the vomit never came as she dry heaved, forcing her body to hold in what she ate. Then, a light seemed to creep from her face and up through her neck and into her hair. The dark locks of her hair suddenly began to alter, becoming lighter. Her face, lush and vibrant, started to change. First, lines formed, then her eyes drooped and sagged until, eventually, she resembled an elderly woman in her early sixties. Her hair, once dark, was now gray.

“Holy fuck—” I said in astonishment. Then I asked, breathlessly, “What did you do?”

“What I had too,” she replied simply.

“Who are you?” I asked, without thinking.

She seemed to consider my question, but then, deciding it was alright, answered, “Asema. Asema Trevil. And I think it’s time for you to leave, stranger.”

“Ike,” I answered unprompted. “My name’s Isaac, but I go by Ike. Last name… unimportant. I have no family.”

‘Pity,” she replied, and I knew she meant it. “Family is the only thing that is true in this world.”

“What about friends?”

She scoffed. “Friends are only friends until it is inconvenient. I have no friends and one family member, and today, I put him in harm's way. I care about one thing: him. As I said, time to leave. Do not show your face here again. Hopefully, before the Ghost-shroom’s effects wear off, they’ll have forgotten all about me.”

“And what about me?”

“You,” she said, shoving me towards a door I’d only just noticed. She opened it, pushing me inside the hallway. “You’ll be dead, if you don’t leave Silverock. Today.”