It was after dark when they reached the guard house, but it seemed none of the guards had gone home yet. Tired guards entered only to have orders shouted at them to turn around and investigate a disturbance in the merchants’ quarter or assist the group at the refugee camp. Few had time to give Valerie a glance as she waited. Though, she did think she heard a few muttering abouts “that idiot Fejries” and “trying to chase ghosts.”

They might’ve been tired and overworked, but that was hardly the way to talk about a fallen comrade.

At long last, the errand boy returned with a nervous-looking middle-aged guard whose eyes locked onto the golden-sun insignias on their apparel.

“Second Vice-Captain, this is who I was talking about, the one who was with Fejries last night.”

The nervous-looking guard didn’t make eye contact. “I — um, nice to meet you, — ”

“Oi! Show some respect! That’s the Second Vice-Captain — ”

“It’s all right,” Elro said.

It was hard to tell on a mouse, but Valerie had learned that when he shifted his weight like that he was embarrassed.

“You’re the one who saw the banshee?”

“Sorry — yes, I didn’t see it, but I was there. Nobody believes me — they think Fejries was an idiot — well, he was, but they think he fell down the steps — they weren’t there. I could feel it — the moaning — the scream — ”

“Is there a more private place we can talk?” Valerie suggested. The guard seemed ashamed to be talking about this in the middle of the guardhouse within earshot of the other guards.

“Sure.” The errand boy led them to a private room and closed the door. When the nervous guard sat down, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“I know this may be difficult for you,” Valerie said before the nervous guard could resume talking, “but we’re going to ask you about last night. Anything you can remember could help, okay? Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“Of — of course. Nobody’s told you anything yet?”

The errand boy shook his head. “Captain Chelov’s busy, so I brought them straight here. Figured it’s faster if you tell them everything.”

“Of course, of course. Where do I start? I suppose — with all these refugees, we needed to find a place for them to stay — they can’t stay in the marketplace forever. Fejries had a bright idea. Always had good ideas, even if everyone made fun of him. That old Veck estate is huge, it’s got so many rooms, we figured we could house a lot of people in there. Veck’s not using it, anyhow. Hasn’t been to Castia in years.

“Fejries took it to the Captain, and he agreed it was a good idea — like I said, the other guards make fun of Fejries, but Captain Chelov knows that he’s smart, that’s why he’s Captain and they’re not — so we went to the refugees, but one of the refugees brought up the stories, you know, about that mansion being haunted, that’s why Veck abandoned it and nobody’s used it since, and then they were too scared to go.

“So Fejries told them we’d stay there overnight to show them it was safe, and if there were any ghosts, he had a necklace from his brother, who’s a priest, pretty well respected, you know, I think he’s high Level, anyway, I didn’t want to do it, but he had this necklace that he said would scare away the ghosts if there were any. I guess — I guess it didn’t work. That banshee wasn’t scared one bit.”

Her instincts told her the guard wasn’t lying. Nervous, yes; scared, yes; lying, no. There were too many details and not enough thinking for that testimony to be made up. She doubted he was hiding anything either — intentionally, at least. A banshee. That was a kind of ghost, right? A ghost that screamed? She hadn’t studied her fairytables and myths recently.

“Did you see it? The … banshee?” Valerie asked. Sometimes witnesses’ remembered more than they initially recalled. Sometimes they repressed memories.

“No, I’d be dead if I’d seen it, yeah?” the nervous guard retorted. “When we went in, it was dark and quiet. We were trying to find a room that wasn’t too drafty, maybe a bit warmer than the rest, if we could find a hearth that worked, all the better. When we got to the stairs, Fejries said he’d check out the second floor — I said we should stay together — but we split up. Then the moaning and the whispers started, and I was scared something terrible, so I ran to the stairs to find Fejries and just when I reached them I heard that terrible scream, and Fejries fell down them. I tried to help him up — I’m a coward, but I wouldn’t leave a fellow guard behind — but when I turned him over, I saw that look on his face, Aver above, I knew he was dead, it was pure terror. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I ran out of there fast as I can. I reckon that’s the only reason I’m still alive.”

“Before Fejries fell down the stairs, did you see him?”

“No — right before he fell? Not really, when I saw him he was already at the top of the stairs.”

“That’s good. Try to recall that moment in your mind. Did he say anything? Was he looking at anything? Which way was he facing? Was there anything around him?”

“I can’t remember.” The nervous guard shivered. “He was backing up — actually, was he running? I don’t remember him saying anything. Toward the stairs? No he was — sorry I don’t know. I think when I saw him, he was already falling down the stairs. The angle wasn’t so good. I couldn’t see the second floor. That probably saved my life. The only sound was the scream, and my yelling. And that scream wasn’t mine or Fejries. You can ask the people nearby, they must’ve heard it too. That wasn’t human. That scream, gods above…”

No additional information. The guard was sure it was a banshee, but it seemed that was purely based on the sounds. He hadn’t seen what had killed Fejries, and it sounded like he hadn’t had a good view of the second floor. It wasn’t much to go on. People imagined sounds all the time, especially when they were scared. It was possible that Fejries had in fact tripped and fell down the stairs, and this guard’s imagination had filled in everything else based on these urban legends.

“How long was it between when you split up and when the sounds started?” she asked.

“A — a few minutes, I think.”

More than enough time for him to convince himself that the mansion was haunted and begin hearing things.

Would it be worth bringing him back to the mansion? Maybe that would jog his memory. On the other hand, scared as he was, he’d likely be completely unhelpful.

“That’s all the questions I had. Elro?”

“No, uh, that was very thorough. If we need anything else from you, will we be able to find you here?”

“I’ll head home, but any of the guards can find me if you need me. Please, destroy that thing. Not just for Fejries — nobody in the city is safe while it’s in here with us. I keep thinking, ‘What if it gets out of the mansion?’ We can’t leave the city ‘cause of the Twisted, so we’d be trapped.”

“Don’t worry. Also, no matter what the other guards say, running away was the right thing to do. Without your report, we’d be in the dark about this banshee.”

The nervous guard stood with a deferential nod and tripped on his hasty exit from the room.

“He was worried that you’d ask him to go with you,” the errand boy remarked. “Do you need any guards?”

The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind.

“No, you were right in bringing this to the Order. There’s a Myrnian priest in Castia. We’ll ask her to help and find some other Holy Knights to accompany us.”

“If you need anything else — ”

“Aha! I’ve found you at last!”

The door flung open and a man in a feathered cap strode in. “Is this the selfless party who dares to hunt down a banshee?”

“We’re going to investigate.” Elro asked. “Who are you?”

“That’s — !” the errand boy guard practically jumped out of his seat.

The man swept his his pointed cap off into a bow.

“Adventurer, Ranger, hunter, tracker, and monsterologist extraordinaire! Lusa Vesuvius of the Feathered Dragons, arriving in the nick of time to save three valiant champions from certain death.”

“We appreciate the help,” Elro said seeming nonplussed, “but what rank are you? I’m not sure how much help a Ranger will be against a banshee.”

Ranger...ranger...the image of Robin Hood popped up in her mind. Comparing it to this exuberant man with a bow slung across his back — it was a bit too close to take him seriously. His pointed hat was only a little off, and his clothes and bow seemed rather expensive for someone who hunted animals for a living.

“He’s gold-ranked!” The errand boy guard had recovered his ability to speak, his eyes large as saucers. “The Feathered Dragons’ Ranger — they hunted down the banshee of Normoth.”

Ah gold-ranked — that she had learned. His Blessing was Ranger but he was an adventurer, and gold-ranked to boot. That meant he was strong. Close to Paladin Light. That also explained his expensive attire.

It raised another question, though. There were no gold-ranked adventurers in all of Rhine, due to the country’s poor treatment of them. Where had he come from?

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“A fan! Nice to meet you…?” The man grabbed the errand boy’s hand into a vigorous two-handed handshake.

“Gods above! Jeraziah! Huge fan!”

“Nice to meet you, Jeraziah! It’s wonderful that even out here there’s someone who recognizes us.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Valerie interrupted, not feeling sorry at all. The Ranger had mentioned he’d sought them out regarding a matter a wee bit more important than an impromptu meet-n-greet. “What did you mean by ‘certain death?’ ”

“May I answer that with a question? Do you have any magical resistance skills?”

“You don’t have to answer that,” Elro said to Valerie. “What’s a gold-ranked adventurer doing in Castia?”

“Ah, I understand the suspicion. You don’t know me, but I swear by all the gods above and beyond, I’m here to help. The timing is fortuitous! My party arrived in Castia earlier today — ”

“The entire party is here?!” the errand boy spluttered. His hands shook and he’d begun sweating as though he was preparing to die from excitement.

“Yes, yes! We were escorting a merchant near the border of Alossia when we heard the call. A horde emerges from the Forest! All adventurers to Rhinia! Imagine our surprise, when we arrived, there’s also a banshee problem and no resident adventurers here with that kind of experience or fighting power. As soon as we’d found our lodgings, the rest of the party headed straight back out of the city to fight the Twisted, and I volunteered to help investigate this banshee, since I’m the most knowledgeable about them. As you can see, the timing’s indeed fortunate. You’re from the Temple of Light, are you not? Perhaps it’s Aver’s Will.”

“An entire gold-ranked party came to Rhine?” Elro asked suspiciously. “It’s not that I’m not grateful, but — ”

“The Rhinian laws on adventuring are terrible, and so is the pay! Of course, we know. But the Twisted care not for laws or gold! When we heard there was a horde coming out of the Twisted Forest so close to our homeland, there was no choice but to come here. I’m sure other parties are close behind!”

There was no need to yell. Everyone in the thin-walled guard house would be able to hear their declarations.

“That’s the Feathered Dragons for you!” The errand boy pumped his fist in the air. “We’re saved!”

And they’d all be able to hear that, too.

“I’m — thank you,” Elro said with less enthusiasm but no less sincerity than the errand boy. “Your party will be a huge help.”

“You’re one to talk! Who’s been holding off the Twisted until now? Fighting selflessly for no pay is rare for an adventurer, but for the Order of Light it’s another day on the job! I should be thanking you!”

“Ah, well…that’s...” Elro paced on Valerie’s shoulder in embarrassment. She suppressed a sigh. The stodgy old mouse was too easy.

“So back to my question,” Lusa continued, “I promise I will see this request through to the end with you. Please, you need not tell me all your Blessings and Skills, but party members must know what the others are capable of. In all honesty, I doubt this is a banshee, but if it is, banshees have an area-of-effect instant-death ability. We must know in advance who is capable of withstanding it. In general, those over level 25 or those with magic resistance Skills are able to survive it. Hurts like the Void, and makes your ears bleed, but survivable.”

“I do have a magic resistance Skill,” Elro said.

Lusa cocked an eyebrow. “How rare, good for you!”

Valerie and the errand boy shook their heads.

“Good to know! I have a way to protect you from a banshee’s wail, just need some preparation. Let’s meet there tomorrow morning.”

Morning? Hadn’t someone said —

“But Sir Vesuvius,” the errand boy piped up, “don’t banshees only appear at night?”

“That’s exactly why we’re going during the day! And I’m not a knight, no need to call me ‘sir’. To fellow party members, I’m ‘Lusa!’ ”

“L-l-l-lusa!”

“There’s a Myrnian priestess staying at the temple,” Elro suggested.

“Wouldn’t she be useful against a banshee at night?”

Lusa’s demeanor shifted like a parent who’d finished narrating a ghost story now summarizing real-life morals. “She’s welcome to come, but let me make this crystal clear: banshees are not your everynight wraith or poltergeist, scaring people and knocking glasses off of tables. They are rare and usually not malicious, which is unusual for undead, but when provoked they are extremely lethal. You must treat this as a monster hunt, not an exorcism, and it’s no goblin extermination — a banshee would be a gold-ranked request normally.

“When the good people of Normoth realized it was a banshee killing people at night, four Myrnian priestesses volunteered to exorcise it, thinking that their Blessings at night would protect them. The first thing my party did upon arriving at Normoth was inspect their bodies. It’s unlikely this is a banshee — they’re often falsely reported — but if it is, I’ll ask you to step back and let my party handle it.”

After what she’d been through recently, a ghost didn’t seem that scary.

“Understood.”

Lusa’s beaming smile returned. “Wonderful! I knew coming to Rhine would be exciting!”

* * *

“We should’ve been more specific with the time.”

They’d been at the mansion for what must have been at least an hour and Lusa still hadn’t shown up. Elro was sitting on Valerie’s left shoulder in an oddly human fashion.

“Does the adventurer know where this mansion is?”

On her right shoulder was another mouse. Fola, the Myrnian priestess. She was wearing a pink-tinged off-white onesie with a frill almost like a skirt around what might have been her waist.

Shouldering two mice was hardly stranger than one mouse. If anything, it balanced her out. Having only Elro on one shoulder made her feel like a bicycle with misaligned wheels. It’d give her a bad back in the long run. A mouse on either shoulder just felt like she was a carrying a backpack.

“Maybe he’s lost,” Elro posited. “Did anyone tell him where this is?”

What was strange was when they talked to each other through her neck. It felt like listening to a song whose producer had just discovered stereo. Elro’s voice came in her left ear, and Fola’s her right.

“To an adventurer,” Fola said in her high-pitched, high-falutin voice, “ ‘morning’ means ‘afternoon.’ This is the only abandoned mansion in Castia. Anyone on the street could point him toward it.”

“I should’ve stayed with him.” The errand-boy guard had decided to attend. There was no way the boy was going to miss a chance to spend time with his beloved gold-ranked adventurer.

Given Valerie’s low Level, wouldn’t the errand boy be comparatively more helpful? What Level would he be? If people started Levelling as children, wouldn’t a teenager be higher than her tiny three Levels? It was a pain that she couldn’t ask Elro this, as he was so helpful on so many topics.

Over the last few days, she’d started to get the feeling that it would be all right to tell Elro about her coming-from-another-world situation. The Order of Light, while it had its fanatics, was run by good people. And Elro was nothing if not considerate. He might have trouble believing her, but he’d try to help.

She felt safe letting Elro know. The problem was that he didn’t work for her. He worked for Paladin Light. And she had no idea how Paladin Light would react if he found out. She still had no idea why he’d picked her to be a Paladin in the first place.

Around and around went the arguments in her head, and Elro remained none the wiser.

“Just like old times, isn’t it?” Fola said to Elro. “Like our training missions. Except now we’re the old ones.”

“Do Myrnians train with the Order of Light?” Valerie hadn’t noticed any of the moon-worshippers in the temple, although perhaps they’d escaped her notice due to their size.

“Hah! No, once upon a time I thought I could be a holy knight. Turns out, I’m not stuffy enough like this old codger.”

Elro harrumphed, which unfortunately aided Fola’s case. Sometimes he did come across as a bit stuffy.

“We could just go in, couldn’t we?” Fola proposed. “It’s morning, so it should be safe.”

“I’d — I’d like to wait for Sir Vesuvius.”

The prospect of going in without the adventurer seemed unappealing to the errand boy. Unsurprising, given that was the main reason he’d come.

“We’ll wait till noon.”

It was nice to have Elro around to call the shots. He had an air of competence, one that far exceeded his small frame. Even if that air was slightly stuffy.

They didn’t end up needing to wait much longer. Within a few minutes, a tall man with a bow slung across his back and a ridiculous feathered green cap loped up the long, shallow hill.

“My apologies. I seem to have tour a good quarter of your city. What a wonderful temple you have! And the streets are so orderly! I almost feel ashamed getting lost.”

“That’s our fault,” Elro said. “We should’ve met at the guard house.”

“We’re here now, that’s what matters! And — ” Lusa whistled, eyeing the abandoned mansion. “How rich was this man?”

The estate was enormous. Valerie could see why the guards wanted to put it to use in a city where refugees were being crammed in tents in the marketplace. It took several minutes just to reach the mansion, walking up the hill from the gate, all of which was part of the estate.

The mansion itself looked large enough to house dozens if not hundreds of people. At four stories tall, it dwarfed the other residential buildings she’d seen. It had a gothic style to it, with high, narrow windows lined with flying buttressed and detailed ornamentation in the stone.

A beautiful albeit intimidating place to live, that is, if it weren’t covered in vines and crumbling at the corners. Abandoned, overgrown, unlit, intimidating in size and architecture, with cracks running along the walls and through the stone gargoyles that lined its roof, and surrounded by a waist-high sea of grass and weeds little different from the plains outside the city walls, it looked like it could be chock full of ghosts.

It was a good thing they were investigating in the day. As dim and red as the sunlight was, it had to be better than nothing.

Maybe the errand boy was justified in hesitating to enter.

“Is. Lord Rickard Veck is the wealthiest in Rhine. His family controlled much of the wine trade before the Dimming. Now all their vineyards are buried in the Twisted Forest, and Veck spends the fortune as fast as he can. His father tried to start new vineyards in the Alossian states, but as far as I know, they died with him.”

“He’s still alive? Any chance we could ask him about who the specter might be?”

Elro shook his head. “He’s in Rhinia now. We could send a message, but he doesn’t respond unless he feels like it. Even to the king.”

“Hm. I was certain it wasn’t a banshee since a banshee’s wail in the middle of the city would kill more than one person. Now I’m not so sure. Those houses — ” Lusa pointed to the nearest houses, which were at the bottom of the hill a good distance away. “ — might be out of range. Have you had a chance to speak with their residents yet?”

Valerie nodded. “They heard the scream, that’s it. Weren’t sure if it sounded human or not. Demanded we sort it out right away.”

A cloud passed over Lusa’s face, but it quickly brightened again. “It’s a good thing we’re visiting during the day, then. Let’s begin our adventure? Do we know where our good man Fejries lies?”

“At the foot of the main staircase, sir,” the errand-boy said eagerly. “Should be visible as soon as we open the main doors.”

“Good man!”

* * *

“Gods above.” The Myrnian priest’s tiny nails were digging into Valerie’s skin.

The brave guard Fejries lay mostly intact at the foot of a grand staircase. The dried blood around him was barely visible on the plush, intricately patterned red-brown carpeting.

His face, turned to the side, covered in bruises, was twisted into a permanent grimace.

It was gruesome, but she’d seen worse.

“May Ilitrix guide you to peace,” Elro murmured.

“He took quite the tumble.” Lusa crouched over the body and closed the eyes. “It’s hard to tell what killed him with all the bruises, but he clearly saw something that — ”

“LEAVE THIS PLACE.”

The eerie, raspy voice echoing in the abandoned mansion triggered that ancient, instinctive fear of dark caves and unknown silhouettes. Goosebumps rose on Valerie’s arms and a chill ran down her spine despite the daylight streaming in through the dirty windows.

It was a good thing they’d come during the day.