Elisa’s smile returned, though it was tinged with sadness. "Loma felt a calling to Solarius. She always had this... light about her. I tried to convince her to follow Altruism with me, but she decided not to. She told me once that Solarius’ teachings resonated with her, that she wanted to follow a path of light and wisdom. So while I went to Altruism’s temple, Loma followed her heart to Solarius."
Quin listened intently, trying to imagine his mother as a young woman, making these choices, drawn to the same God who had eventually become his father and chosen Loma to give birth to him.
Elisa continued. "Our different paths separated us, but we stayed close. Every chance we had, we visited each other, even as our studies grew more demanding. We were both mediocre in spirit cultivation talent, though that didn’t bother us. Neither of us ever had a desire to fight. We weren’t warriors. We were just two friends trying to make the best of our lives."
"And then?" Sam asked gently.
"We finished our schooling and started doing charity work around the city," Elisa replied. "We helped with orphanages, hospitals, and anything else we could. Loma was always the same—kind, gentle, and full of heart. But all of a sudden, something changed. She became more distant, more troubled, and then..." Elisa’s voice faltered, her expression darkening as she recalled those final days. "Then she disappeared."
Quin’s heart ached with the weight of her words. His mother’s life had been so... ordinary, at least until the end. There was no grand tale, no hidden secret of her youth—just a life lived in service to others alongside her best friend.
"Nothing was exciting about us," Elisa said softly, her voice trailing. "We were just... us. Until she left."
The room fell into a contemplative silence; each group member was lost in their thoughts. For Quin, the story painted a picture of his mother that was comforting and painful. She had been kind and strong in her own way, but there had been a darkness in her final days—one for which he was partially the cause. Why would she run away from Cremoor if Solarius had come to her and blessed her with his child? Why did she run away with him? Quin had no answer, but he still had more questions.
Quin leaned forward, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of his cup as he spoke. "Elisa," he began carefully, "there’s something else I’ve been trying to figure out. When I looked into my mother’s records at the Temple of Solarius, I found that it never mentioned how she ascended from Initiate to Acolyte and from Acolyte to Disciple. Most people need to slay a beast to ascend, but the rumors in Cremoor say that my mother never did such a thing." He paused, watching Elisa’s reaction closely. "Do you know anything about that?"
As soon as the question left his lips, Elisa stiffened. The color seemed to drain from her face, and her fingers tightened around the table's edge. She didn’t meet Quin’s gaze; instead, she darted toward the window as though searching for an escape.
There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. Elisa slowly stood, her movements awkward, almost jerky. "I... I don’t know where those rumors came from," she said quietly, her voice strained. "Loma slayed a beast like everyone else. It’s just a silly rumor. People love to spread nonsense about things like that since Loma was so regretful over having to take a life, even a beast."
Without waiting for a response, she picked up her cup and walked into the kitchen, her back turned to the group. Her placing the cup down on the counter echoed in the otherwise silent house. When she returned, she didn’t sit down. Instead, she lingered by the doorway, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron.
"I’m sorry," she said, her voice sharper than before. "I have to leave for an appointment with some village leadership. We need to discuss my duties in the orphanage, so I’ll need to ask you to leave."
The abruptness of her request caught everyone off guard. Quin, still trying to process her reaction, blinked in confusion. "Oh, of course," he said, standing slowly. The others followed suit, their eyes narrowing as they exchanged uncertain glances.
Elisa walked them to the door, her steps quick and agitated. "Thank you for visiting," she said, her voice hollow. "I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help."
Before anyone could respond, she shut the door behind them with a sharp click, locking it almost immediately. There was no goodbye, no lingering warmth, just the sound of the lock turning. The group stood there, staring at the wooden door in puzzlement.
Zach scratched his head, looking over at Quin. "That was... weird," he said flatly. "She practically shoved us out."
"She didn’t even leave the house," Lauren added, glancing at the door. "She said she had an appointment but is still in there."
Sam knocked on the door several times, but there was no answer. He sighed and stepped back, exchanging a glance with the others. "I don’t think we’re getting anything more out of her."
Quin frowned, his mind racing. Elisa’s sudden shift in demeanor when he mentioned Loma’s Ascensions had been too obvious to ignore. She was hiding something, and it seemed clear that whatever it was, she didn’t want them asking about it.
"She lied about something," Cal said, crossing his arms. "How she reacted when you brought up your mother’s Ascension... there’s no way that was just a rumor."
Quin nodded, feeling a pit form in his stomach. "Yeah, she knew something. But I don’t think we’ll get it from her directly."
Zach glanced down the street, then back at Quin. We could talk to the village leadership. Ask around. If Elisa’s hiding something, they might know more about her... or even your mother."
"I think that’s a good idea," Westin added. "If she’s been living here for years, someone must know what’s happening. Plus, her reaction was strange enough that we might be able to find out why she’s so secretive."
Quin hesitated, still processing the encounter with Elisa, but ultimately nodded. "Alright," he said. "Let’s head to the village hall and see what we can find out."
As they turned to walk toward the center of the village, something felt off. The town, filled with children's laughter when they arrived, now seemed strangely quiet. The streets were nearly empty, and no child could be seen playing in the fields or running between the houses. The once lively village seemed almost deserted.
Lauren’s brow furrowed, and she glanced around uneasily. "Where are all the kids?" she asked. "When we came in, they were everywhere. Now it’s like they’ve all vanished."
The others slowed, their eyes scanning the empty streets. The absence of children, combined with Elisa's strange behavior, made the atmosphere feel suddenly tense.
"Something’s not right," Cal muttered. "This place doesn’t feel the same as it did earlier."
Zach nodded grimly. "Let’s stay on guard."
They continued toward the village hall, their senses heightened, aware that something more was happening in Vistow than they had initially realized.
The village hall of Vistow was an unassuming building they had passed on the way to Elisa’s home. It was more substantial than the other structures in the village. Built from sturdy stone, its design was practical, with high arched windows allowing sunlight to spill in. The roof was steeply sloped, with weathered wooden beams supporting it, and vines crawled up the stone walls, giving the place a sense of age and permanence. A small wooden sign near the door simply read "Village Hall." Though modest, it had an air of importance, as if it was the heart of the village's administration.
As Quin and the others approached, the streets remained strangely quiet, the eerie absence of the once-playful children hanging over them. They pushed through the large wooden doors and stepped inside, the creak of the hinges echoing in the quiet hall.
The atmosphere was far more formal than the rest of the village. The floor was polished stone, and the walls were lined with paintings depicting scenes of village life—harvests, festivals, and peaceful landscapes. The space was well-maintained, with wooden furniture that gleamed under the soft light. A small reception desk sat near the entrance, manned by a receptionist, a middle-aged woman with her hair pulled into a neat bun and a welcoming smile.
She looked up as they entered, her eyes bright and attentive. "Good morning," she greeted them warmly. "How can I help you today?"
Quin stepped forward, his voice steady. "We’re hoping to speak with the village management," he said. "We met with someone earlier—Elisa Marnel—and she didn’t seem well. We’d like to ask about her history in the village and see if there are any records of a previous resident named Loma."
The receptionist’s smile remained polite, but her eyes flickered with a brief moment of curiosity. "Ah, I see," she replied. "Please give me a few minutes. I’ll fetch the person in charge."
She rose from her desk and walked through a door behind her, leaving the group in the quiet, well-lit foyer. They exchanged glances, their earlier unease still lingering.
Westin leaned in and whispered, "I wonder if they’ll tell us anything. The whole place feels... strange."
Quin nodded in agreement but said nothing. His thoughts were still on Elisa’s odd behavior, and the unnerving quiet in the village made it hard to think clearly.
After a few moments, the receptionist returned, her pleasant demeanor unchanged. "Please follow me," she said. "I’ll take you to the person who can help you with your questions."
They followed her deeper into the building, walking down a long corridor with neatly kept floors and walls lined with village records and portraits of former village leaders. The air grew cooler as they ventured further inside, and the quiet seemed even more pronounced, with only the faint echo of their footsteps accompanying them.
Finally, they reached a heavy wooden door. The receptionist knocked politely, then opened it for them. "Please step inside," she said, holding the door open as they entered.
As Quin and his friends entered the room, his heart nearly stopped.
Inside, sitting behind a large wooden desk cluttered with papers and ledgers, was a woman Quin immediately recognized. Her presence hit him like a punch to the gut, sending his senses into overdrive.
It was her.
The woman from his vision so many months ago. It was the only time his Divine Insight had activated.
She was tall and elegant, her long, dark hair flowing loosely over her shoulders. Her skin was smooth, her features sharp and regal, and her dark eyes held a depth that seemed to pierce through the soul. She wore a deep purple gown embroidered with silver threads that shimmered subtly in the light. Her posture was poised, her movements deliberate as she shifted a paper on her desk. But her aura set Quin on edge—calm, controlled, but with an undercurrent of something... sinister.
The air in the room seemed to grow heavier when Quin laid eyes on her. His stomach twisted in knots, and his muscles tensed involuntarily. He remembered this woman vividly from his vision—the one that had shown him fragmented images of danger, deceit, and shadow. He had sensed something dangerous off about her then, and seeing her here in the flesh only deepened that feeling.
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Though he wasn’t frightened or confused by her appearance, Quin’s instincts screamed at him to be wary. He wrestled for control over his emotions, trying to calm the surge of tension that rippled through his body, but it was too late—his friends had already noticed the shift in him.
Standing beside him, Lauren glanced at him sharply, sensing his unease. Always observant, Sam also caught the change, his eyes narrowing in concern. Even Westin, usually laid-back and straightened slightly, grows more alert in his posture.
The woman raised her head, her dark eyes settling on Quin. For the briefest moment, a flicker of wariness and menace passed through her gaze, but it was gone so quickly it almost seemed imagined. She smiled—a slow, controlled smile—and gestured for them to sit.
"Welcome," she said, her voice smooth and refined, with a practiced tone. "I’ve been informed that you’re asking about Elisa and... Loma, was it?"
Quin’s heart raced, but he forced himself to nod. "Yes," he replied, his voice steady despite the rising unease. "We’ve come to learn more about them."
The woman’s gaze never wavered, but Quin could feel the tension in the air, the quiet undertone of something he couldn’t quite place. He didn’t know who she was, but he could tell that this woman was not someone to be taken lightly. She was more than just a village administrator.
And whatever her role in this village, Quin knew she was tied to something far more significant and dangerous than what appeared on the surface.
Quin quickly adopted a friendly demeanor, pushing down the tension he felt coursing through his body. He couldn’t let his companions or this woman see how rattled he was by her presence. Forcing a polite smile, he stepped forward and extended a hand.
"Thank you for seeing us," Quin said, his voice smooth. "As I said, we’re just looking for information about two residents of Vistow, one prior and one current—Loma and Elisa. Anything you can provide would be beneficial."
The woman behind the desk didn’t immediately take his hand, offering him a tight-lipped smile. Her dark eyes lingered on Quin a moment longer than was comfortable, and then, with deliberate slowness, she clasped his hand briefly before pulling away.
"Of course," she said, her voice calm but with a slight chill to it. "I’m Eloria. I am the village's mayor." She gestured for them to sit down, though the coldness in her tone didn’t match the gesture of hospitality.
Quin and his friends took their seats, the tension still palpable. Quin nodded toward Eloria, hoping to keep the conversation focused on the task. "We’re particularly interested in any records or details you might have about their time here. My mother, Loma, grew up in Vistow, and Elisa was one of her closest friends. If possible, we’d like to learn more about their time in the village."
Eloria gave a slight nod and stood, walking over to a set of tall file cabinets lining the wall behind her. She moved precisely, flipping through the files methodically as if searching for something specific. After a moment, she pulled out two thin, old files and placed them on the desk before her.
She opened the files with a practiced flick, revealing sparse documents inside—far thinner than Quin had hoped. The pages were mainly yellowed with age, and very few notes or details were listed.
Eloria looked up from the files, her expression one of mild indifference. "I must apologize for the lack of records," she said smoothly. "We don’t typically keep track of people once they leave the village, especially when external charities have sponsored them."
She tapped the papers lightly with one finger. "Both Loma and Elisa were orphans brought to Vistow through a charity program in Cremoor. They were raised here and left when the same charity sponsored their education and travel to the city. After that, we don’t have much in terms of records. Elisa returned a few years after Loma disappeared and volunteered to help with the upkeep of the village but besides that..." Eloria trailed off, snapping the files shut with a crisp movement. "There’s nothing more."
Her tone remained polite, but Quin could feel the coldness behind her words. Clearly, she had no intention of being helpful beyond what was necessary.
"Is there anything else I can help you with?" Eloria asked, her voice sharp as she closed the file cabinet. The question hung in the air, but how she said it made it clear she expected the answer to be no.
Quin glanced down at the files and then back at Eloria. He had initially planned to ask about Brother Tomas, the retired priest who also mentioned living in Vistow before his death. Still, the way Eloria carried herself—the cold, deliberate control in her movements and the fact that she had been in his vision—made him think twice. There was no reason to trust her with more questions, not when his instincts warned him to be cautious.
Instead, Quin forced a polite smile. "Thank you for your time, Eloria. We appreciate the help." He stood up, signaling his friends that it was time to leave. "We won’t take up any more of your day."
Eloria nodded curtly, her gaze lingering on Quin briefly before she replied. "Safe travels," she said, though little warmth was in her voice.
As soon as they stepped out of the office and back into the hallway, the others immediately turned to Quin, questions in their eyes.
"What was that all about?" Cal whispered, his voice low but urgent. "You looked like you’d seen a ghost back there."
Quin glanced around the hall, ensuring they were still alone. He shook his head, his expression serious. "Not here. I’ll explain everything once we’re out of the village."
Zach opened his mouth to protest, but Quin cut him off with a look. His gaze was firm, and the message was clear—this wasn’t the place to talk. Reluctantly, Zach nodded, and the others followed suit.
They exited the village hall and returned through the quiet streets, the eerie absence of children still noticeable. It was as if the life had drained from the village in the short time they’d been inside.
Once they reached the edge of the village, they untied their horses. Quin’s warhorse, Albert, snorted impatiently as he mounted, sensing his rider’s unease. Lauren’s gentle mare stood quietly beside him, its demeanor calm even in the tense atmosphere.
As they prepared to ride, they noticed someone standing at the village entrance. Maren, the older woman, escorted them into the village earlier. She stood silently, watching them with an unreadable expression. The same warmth she had shown earlier was gone, replaced by something far colder, more distant. Her eyes followed them as they rode away, and she didn’t move or speak until they had passed through the archway and left the village behind.
Quin felt a shiver run down his spine, and he urged Albert into a faster pace. Something wasn’t right in Vistow.
Once they were a few kilometers away from the village, the group slowed their horses, and the tension hanging over them since leaving Vistow seemed to settle like a heavy cloud. Zach, always the first to voice what was on everyone’s mind, turned toward Quin, his brow furrowed with concern.
"Alright, Quin," Zach said, his voice low but insistent. "What in the world just happened back there?"
Cal nodded in agreement, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced with a more serious tone. "Yeah, and what was with that leader? I’ve never seen someone flip from polite to cold so fast. Something isn’t right."
The others looked at Quin expectantly, waiting for him to explain what had been gnawing at him since they entered the village.
Quin took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. He had known this moment would come as soon as they left Vistow, and now he had to share what had been running through his mind.
"When we first arrived," Quin began, "I felt... I don’t know how to explain it, but the village felt familiar. Like I’d been there before, but I couldn’t place it. I kept brushing it off, thinking it was similar to other villages we’ve passed through on hunts. But there was something off about it—especially about Elisa."
"Yeah, we all noticed that," Westin interjected. "She was acting shifty the whole time, especially when you asked about your mother."
Quin nodded. "Exactly. And then, when we met the village leader—Eloria—it all clicked. Do you guys remember my ability Divine Insight? I told you about it before."
Sam’s eyes widened slightly. "Yeah, the one where you can get visions from Solarius, right?"
Quin glanced at each of his friends before continuing. "I’ve only managed to get it to work once. It happened months ago before I even started seriously training with you all. I didn’t fully understand it then, but the vision was of a village—children playing, people going about their day. But there was someone... someone watching over them."
He paused, his voice growing more serious. "That person had no obvious sinister features, but there was something about them. Something dark. Their aura... it was hard to explain, but it felt wrong. Like they were hiding something dangerous; when I saw Eloria today, I realized it was her. The woman I saw in my vision was Eloria, and the village in my vision was Vistow."
The group exchanged uneasy glances. Quin could see the weight of his words settling in.
"Wait," Cal said, frowning. "You think this whole village is the same one from your vision? And that there’s something sinister happening there?"
Quin nodded gravely. "It has to be. Everything about it felt off. Think about it—the village was full of children when we arrived, and they were suddenly gone. In the short time we spent talking to Elisa, the whole place went from lively to deserted. That doesn’t just happen by coincidence."
"And Eloria..." Lauren added, her voice thoughtful. "She was far too unhelpful. She brushed us off and kept everything vague... it felt like she was trying to keep us from learning too much."
Westin rubbed his chin, clearly unsettled. "So, what do we do now? If there’s something dark going on in that village, we can’t just leave it like this."
Quin nodded, his expression serious. "I don’t think they suspect us of anything beyond just being curious visitors—for now, at least. But they’ll be on high alert now that we’ve asked many questions. If we go back without a plan, they could take more drastic measures to cover up whatever they’re hiding."
Sam frowned, looking concerned. "So, we can’t just go back in there. What’s the next step?"
Quin looked at each of them, his mind racing. "The best thing we can do right now is to return to Cremoor and speak with Lief Stoneheart. If anyone knows how to help us root out whatever’s happening in that village, it’s him. We will need someone with more authority and resources to help us investigate."
Westin nodded, agreeing. "Lief’s the best option. If we rush in without a plan, we could make things worse. But with Lief’s help, we’ll have a better chance at getting to the bottom of this."
"Exactly," Quin said. "We go back, gather more information, and come back prepared. We need to find out what connection my mother has to all this and what dark secret Vistow is hiding."
The others exchanged determined looks, nodding in agreement. They turned their horses toward the direction of Cremoor and began riding again; their thoughts weighed down by the strange events they had just witnessed.
As they rode, Quin thought about what his father said so long ago when he had first Ascended from Initiate to Acolyte. Something dark surrounded his mother, and this had to be it. He had finally caught onto the trail that his father had left him with his words and visions.
Quin’s grip tightened on the reins, his heart pounding with unease and determination.
In the quiet of the village office, the flickering light of a single candle danced on the walls, casting long, wavering shadows across the room. Eloria, the leader of Vistow, sat behind her desk, her hands clasped together, her dark eyes fixed on the door. The air in the room was thick with tension, the chill of the evening creeping in through the stone walls.
There was a soft knock on the door before it creaked open, and Maren, the older woman who had escorted Quin and his friends into the village, stepped inside. Her usual warm expression was absent, replaced by a cold, almost detached demeanor. She moved quietly, closing the door behind her before bowing her head respectfully.
"The Acolytes have left," Maren reported, her voice low and businesslike.
Eloria’s gaze flicked up, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she was silent, considering the information as if weighing every word. Finally, she nodded. "Good. The less they see, the better."
But there was something in her voice, something uneasy. She leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping lightly on the desk in a steady, rhythmic pattern. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she stared into the distance, her mind working through a series of calculations.
"They were too suspicious," she said after a long pause, her tone colder now. "As much as we tried to downplay everything, I could see it in how they looked at me—especially the boy. Quin. He saw something, something more than just curiosity." Her fingers stilled on the desk, and she leaned forward, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper. "It would be dangerous to assume they’ll just leave this alone, especially if they have a connection to Loma and spoke to Elisa. I knew I should have silenced her after her failure. She has always been such a disappointment."
Maren nodded, her face impassive. "What would you have me do?"
Eloria’s dark eyes flicked to her, and a shadow passed over her face. "It’s better to play it safe. We can’t risk them returning with more questions—or worse, bringing others who might dig deeper." Her voice took on an edge of finality. "Dispatch some of the Guardians. Make sure the Acolytes never make it back to Cremoor."
Maren’s brow furrowed slightly, but her voice remained steady. "Shall we make it look like a beast attack, then?"
Eloria gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Yes. It needs to be clean—something that won’t raise suspicions. The Guardians can handle it. Make it look like a rogue beast ambushed them. It’s happened before, and no one will question it if the evidence is convincing enough."
Maren bowed again, the flickering candlelight reflecting in her cold, calculating eyes. "It will be done," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. Without another word, she turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind her.
Eloria sat quietly momentarily, her gaze lingering on the closed door. Her fingers resumed their slow tapping against the desk, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she settled back into her chair. It's better to be safe than sorry.
As the flickering light continued to cast its long shadows, the village leader’s eyes darkened, her thoughts turning toward the inevitable.