The carriage made its merry way slowly to the mouth of the village as the structures grew closer. Farm fields, horse stables, animal pens and the like were scattered around the outskirts of the village. A weathered sign made of wood was chucked into the ground by a single pole, warmly greeting us with the message "Welcome to Sotmesmere" written on it, albeit faded.

So this humble little village is our destination. Sotmesmere, as the sign said, and the fleeting memory of the director mentioning such a name once darted into my mind and quickly out again as I remembered my priorities.

At the moment, the sun has just risen, only a few inches above the flat horizon; Mason and Alessia weren't at full consciousness either. Kavaski, our coachman, has already expressed his yearning for some well-earned rest. Well, I can't blame the man—he's been steering our carriage for more than half a day with likely only an hour or so to close his eyes in between.

The vehicle clattered to a halt next to a building boasting a large sign saying "TOMORES' INN," and we felt the carriage rattle as Kavaski removed his weight from the driver's seat. The three of us followed thereafter, scuttling to gather our things and cleaning up the mess we've made throughout the journey before jumping out. Keeping it neat and tidy is the least we can do for Kavaski, right?

"Alright, we're here. Journey's over. I feel like my spine could break any moment now," Kavaski added. Despite his tiredness, his voice wasn't all that demotivated. He tied a pair of harnesses around a fence, which will keep his horses in place. The said horses weren't very pleased, evident from the yanking and huffing and hooves stomping, but they calmed down after Kavaski stroked their heads respectively.

"Thank you so much for getting us here, Sir Endomallus," I said, while Alessia and Mason went around to the back of the carriage to reclaim our luggage.

"It's just my job. And hey, after you're finished with your quest, you'll have to endure another trip back. This is only half of the spiel," Kavaski replied sarcastically.

"That's not for a week. I'm sure we'll all be well-rested by then."

"I can say for sure I'll be," he chuckled, "but you and your friends have things to do. Best not waste any more time. You have places to be, don't you?" He gestured to the large inn beside him, which is where we'll be staying for the duration of our quest.

"Yeah, first the inn, then the sack-elves' den, if everything goes smoothly."

"Then I'll leave you to it. I'll be heading to my room first—my whole body is aching, honestly. You'll know where to find me. Probably the room next door. Ask the receptionist if you find yourself face-to-face with a stranger when your neighbors open their doors."

I nodded. "Got it." After seeing off Kavaski into the inn, I went to the back and helped Mason and Alessia take our luggage out. We then dragged the heavy stuff (along with the knapsacks on our back) through the double doors, treading into the lobby of the inn. Kavaski had already disappeared by now.

The first thing to greet us was the cozy little lobby. It was faintly illuminated, the walls all made of dark wood, with a similarly wooden floor though covered with carpets here and there. A receptionist desk lay on the left side of the room, and around the whole lobby small couches were littered here and there. A few potted plants stood to freshen the otherwise dull view; same goes for the colorful paintings hung around the walls.

We approached the receptionist desk, trudging our luggage along as we went. The receptionist behind the desk had already noticed us when we entered, and kindly waited for us to reach her before initiating the conversation.

"Welcome to Tomores' Inn," she said with a smile. "Have you booked a room prior to your arrival?"

"Yes, an associate did it for us," I replied after finally carrying the boxes and bags by the foot of the desk, "by the name of Lagardo Elshire. He said he is a friend of the owner of this inn?"

The receptionist was petite, probably a head and a little taller than Alessia. Her hair blazed bright pink, tied in a braid that rested on her right shoulder. Her face had freckles, her lips naturally pink, though someone might mistake it for lipstick from a distance. Her attire was of the generic kind: long-sleeved white tunic under a black collared coat. The head of a rose was in a pocket by her left breast, which I presume was added to flare up the otherwise monochrome outfit.

The receptionist checked a piece of parchment, then nodding as she spoke. "Lagardo Elshire, premium room booked two days ago. Notes: For a trio of kids on a quest. Is that it?"

"That should be it," I said.

"Then kindly sign here" —she spun the parchment around and pointed to the bottom of the page where a singular line stretched— "as proof of your arrival. Your room number is 2-6, on the second floor." As I scratched my signature on the mentioned line with a quill dipped in ink, the receptionist disappeared through the door behind the desk, then reappearing with a key in her hand. A single card with the numbers "2-6" were printed on it, covered with a transparent film for protection.

"Here is your key," she said as she handed it to me. "Keep it safe with you at all times. We only have one spare in store in case you lose it, in which will cost you a bit of money. We don't want that, do we?" she smiled.

"Uh, definitely not." I examined the silver key, with its ragged edges and circular hold.

"Everything is settled now. You may go up to your room. Enjoy your stay!" She bowed.

"Thank you," I replied as I picked up the luggage and following in Mason and Alessia's tracks to the stairs. We made our way up the dizzying flight of stairs, ending up in a corridor with illumination similarly bright as the lobby. The corridor had six doors per wall, each with their own sign right beside. Reading the first sign, it said 2-2. That means our room is at the far end of the corridor.

We made our begrudging way there, hands probably sore now with all the heavily things we were carrying.

"Agh, open the door, Ernie," Mason groaned. "My hands are about to rip off."

"I'm on it," I said as I stumbled to chuck the key into the keyhole and twisting it open with a fair bit of strength. I hurriedly lifted my luggage again and pushed the door open, revealing an entryway with a sunken floor to place shoes on. To our left was a lighter shade of wall, though still made out of wood. A door was placed right where the sunken floor was lifted back up, which probably led to the bathroom. The opposite wall of the entryway was a wardrobe.

Making my way into the main living quarters, I was taken aback by how big it actually was. The main suite was rectangular in shape, with walls the same shade as the one by the entryway. Two beds were placed parallel to each other against the left wall, with a single nightstand separating them. A seating area with a coffee table was smack-dab in the middle, and on the rightmost wall ran a long aisle.

A rectangular basket holding some cups, tissues, packs of powdered coffee and sugar was the only thing on the aisle. Aside from some handy table space, the aisle also boasted quite a lot of cabinet space. A large mirror and a few paintings filled the wall above the aisle. Moving to the wall opposite the entrance was a sliding glass door with long curtains in front, leading to a spacious balcony.

"Wow, this is surprisingly luxurious," said Alessia, plopping her bags down with some considerably loud thuds.

"I know, right?" I said, sharing the same sensation as Alessia. "Director Elshire's connections aren't a joke."

I sat myself down on one of the beds, which bounced quite a bit. Mason finally placed his luggage down and checked out the room. "Much better than what I expected," he said. "Now then, onto business. What's our plan for this quest, Ernie?"

"I was thinking we could rest up a bit after such a long journey," I said. "But before anything, a shower desperately come first. I stink."

"I call dibs," said Alessia as she raced to unpack her clothes.

"Aw, I wanted to go first," said Mason.

"The early bird catches the worm," Alessia half-sung jokingly, "or whatever that idiom is."

"Speaking of worms," I offered, remembering the burning sensation in my stomach, "how about breakfast afterwards?"

"I'm all in," said Mason with excitement. He likes food, if you haven't noticed.

"Sure thing," Alessia also agreed to breakfast, "but shower comes first."

"Don't take too long," I said.

"I'll be quick, don't worry." Alessia waved her hand as she disappeared into the bathroom. Soon, the raining sound of a shower could be heard from inside.

While we waited, I head to the balcony through the sliding door, earning me a fine view of the village. It was small and peaceful, with a very country-like culture, evident from the rolling farm fields and grazing cattle. Mason joined me by my right, leaning onto the railings with his end perched on top.

"Fine view, huh?" he said, embracing the scenery as a morning wind in the summer hit our faces.

"Mhm," I agreed. "I wouldn't be hard-pressed to live here, if I were forced to."

"Same. This almost feels like a vacation."

A moment of silence stretched on. Only the faint bantering of distant villagers and clattering of wagons could be heard. Mason's stomach gurgled with hunger, breaking the tranquillity.

"That stomach of yours is quite noisy," I said jokingly.

Mason smiled thinly as he patted his stomach. "I'm just a hungry boy. What more can I say?"

"It's about time you try to tone it down," I said, snickering.

"Nah, it's got a mind of its own," he said. "You've got a fair share of growling as well."

"Not as loud as yours. I may just as well find myself waking up to your stomach complaining during the night."

Mason chuckled, but didn't reply. Another silence came, but it shattered quicker than the last due to Mason sighing.

"I've got to hand it to you," he said, not facing me. "It's only been a month, and you're already as good as I am at combat."

"Nonsense," I exclaimed. "You're still miles ahead. It's only been a month. How could I possibly catch up to your years of experience in that amount of time?"

"Could you explain how you beat me while you tested out your new weapon?"

"That was a draw," I said flatly. "Besides, you were probably going easy on me."

"Half of it, yes," said Mason. "But I got serious later on. Still, you could've beat me."

"Not if I didn't get an early advantage."

"Then what about your win against Alessia?"

"Wasn't that also a draw?" I raised an eyebrow.

"It was a draw, officially speaking; but to me, you won. You managed to outwit the prodigy of the camp, showering behind us right now as we speak. Don't tell me you aren't any better than the two of us."

"It was just dumb luck and a bit of dirty play," I rebuked. "Alessia didn't know I could use Vector magic, did she?"

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"I guess so. But Ernie," Mason finally turned to look at me, eyes flaring as if a fire had been lit inside, "that is just what's so great about you."

I blinked in silence as I digested his words. "...Pardon?" I was dumbstruck by the sudden change of flow. What's so great about me? I wondered in earnest.

"I meant your will. It's so much different from mine. You're unfazed by compliments, staking out every possible reason not to boast your greatness. You keep on denying that you're better, even if I myself said so."

"...What are you getting at here?" I asked, bemused and puzzled.

"Remember what I said during the ride? How I bend to other people's needs?"

"Uh-huh. I remember that. Are you implying I'm headstrong?"

"Somewhat. You don't take things for granted. I've seen you at a low before, and that time you're not disheartened to let your frustrations out. As I've said, I can't do that stuff. I can't find the strength within myself to speak my inner darkness. I can't possibly make other people succumb to my own needless worries."

"Mason, that's—I don't exactly understand. What is it that's so great about me getting hot in the head? That's just saying I have anger management issues."

"No, don't misunderstand. What I'm saying is that you're strong, Ernie, unbending. Unlike me, I'm just a spineless git."

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm not the type to make followers. I myself can't even shed a bit of courage to take the higher ground, even if I'm offered it. I just make myself adjust, instead of making the situation adjust to me. I can lead, sure, but I can't make the choices. I only yield, and not command."

"That's not a bad thing, though?"

"Maybe it's not in your view," Mason said as he turned his gaze to the village again, "but to me, I feel weak for being so easily influenced. I don't want to force my decisions onto people. I can't make myself do such a thing."

I smirked condescendingly after realizing the situation. Mason is unconsciously doing it despite complaining about the very thing. It seems I'll have to make him realize as well.

"Then, Mason, I think I have an interesting thing to share with you," I said.

"What is it?" He turned to face me again.

"Close your eyes first. Preferably looking at the village. I want you to block out unnecessary thoughts."

"Uh-huh," he muttered as he did what I said, closing his eyes and turning his head to face the scenery from the balcony. "Then what?"

"Now, I want you to reflect. Think about what you've said. From the start of this conversation, about your loud belly, and up until this point, where you're voicing your thoughts. What can you see?"

"I see... the same thing happening right now," he said flatly. "What exactly are you trying to make me do here?"

"No, reflect on your words, Mason. Can you see something contradictory in the conversation we had just now? Something that feels like it clashed so ironically you'd find it funny how you didn't realize it sooner?"

"Our conversation? But weren't we just talking about your unyielding nature?"

"Yes, but there's also another thing. Aside from my unyielding nature, as you put it, there is another parallel topic."

"Aside from your unyielding nature... my problems?" He mused questionably.

"Yes, precisely. Do you remember what you said?" I smiled, knowing it's about to come.

"I said... about how I can't express my opinions, how I easily yield to people, and my inaptitude at sharing my worries..." As Mason trailed off, his eyes widened. His jaw slowly hung agape.

There it is. The sudden realization. My smile could reach from ear to ear now, seeing as how everything just tied itself together.

What I wanted was for Mason to realize he'd been voicing his inner worries to me for a while now. And what's more, his innermost concerns is, ironically, how he can't easily express such thoughts. Unconsciously, he'd just do what he said he couldn't, and only now he realized. I wanted to laugh, but I respected his well-being. I'll take it slow, just for him.

"Mm?" I hummed, smugly and victorious, "What is it? Cat got your tongue?"

"You... You didn't just do that," he said, slowly turning to stare at me, mouth slowly forming a wry smile.

"But I didn't," I shrugged in good-nature. "You brought it upon yourself."

"I'm apparently blind to what I said myself," he smacked his forehead, then trailing his hand down to his cheeks and lazing his head on his palms for support, elbow rooted at the rail. "You sneaky little bastard."

By now, his smile is fully formed. I couldn't help myself from grinning.

"I wasn't being sly," I said, almost sarcastically. "Just a bit of fun bantering."

"So does that mean I've done it?"

"Done what?"

"You know... sharing my thoughts. I did that just now, didn't I?" Mason was happy, and I could tell.

"Actually," I said as I lifted myself away from the railing, "you've been doing that since you met me. You said a similar thing, didn't you? About how you can't express your concerns audibly?"

"Why... I actually did. How come I didn't realize that?"

"Maybe you were blinded by your own dark thoughts," I shrugged. "Only you know, I guess."

"Well, I certainly don't," Mason said resolutely. "And I don't think I need to know any more than that."

"But maybe," said a voice from behind us, coming from the inn suite, "you'll need to know that I just finished my shower."

As we both turned, my sight was set on Alessia, with her towel wrapped around her neck and her hair soaking wet. I grinned drily.

"How long were you finished for?" asked Mason.

"Just finished, actually," said Alessia as she wiped her hair with the towel. "Don't worry, I only heard a bit."

"I don't really care if you heard any of it," Mason said.

"Whatever. Time for your beloved shower, stink-head."

"I'm going, I'm going," Mason snarled, shovelling out his clothes as he went. Sooner or later, it'll be my turn.

"What were you two talking about?" Alessia asked me after the bathroom door slammed shut.

"Oh, just a bit of an overdue conversation," I answered vaguely. Alessia frowned.

"Are you just going to keep it a secret?"

"I'll respect Mason's privacy, even if he doesn't care all that much."

"...Fine, then."

***

After a decently large breakfast, Mason, Alessia and I decided to go around the village for a bit. Our objective was to scour out any leads regarding the sack-elves, and what hints might pop up as to where their den is.

Seeing the village atop the balcony was one thing, but walking in the small, gravel streets was another. Unlike Allestris, where the roads and buildings alike are made of some type of stone and mortar, the humble architecture here is mostly made of wood, save for the more industrial buildings such as the lone smithery here.

"So, where are we going?" asked Alessia, looking around in a laze.

"I'm not sure," I said. "Where do you suppose would be a good place to start?"

"Um, a villager, maybe?" Mason offered. He gazed around and spotted a pedestrian holding a basket full of bread. "There, how about her?"

We approached the lady, who wore plain clothes—a buttoned beige tunic tucked into a long violet skirt by her waist, which had an extra layer of a white apron sewed on. Her brown hair was tied in a bun, hidden under a white kerchief. Upon closer inspection, her eyes were the color of muddy yellow.

"Excuse me, can we have a word with you?" Mason asked. The woman turned to look at us, first to Mason, then to myself and Alessia behind.

"Ah, is there something I can do for you children?" Her voice was sweet and calm, like a mother's caressing their child. She definitely looked the part, at least.

"Um, yes. Us three are here on a quest to eradicate some sack-elves which have been troubling the village. If you don't mind, can you tell us if you've seen any?"

"Sack-elves? Hmm..." The woman paused for a bit, lost in her train of thought. Then, slowly, she came back to reality. "Well, I personally haven't been attacked by them, but a lot of the folk by the north-western side of the village have. They might be of more help than me," she said, smiling a bit sympathetically.

"I see. How long has it been going on for now?" Mason asked further.

"I'm not very sure, but rumors started popping up about a month ago, I'd say. Reports of numerous things going missing here and there. The missing stuff isn't considered very valuable, but it's an inconvenient loss nonetheless. Only a week ago had the village chief declared that sack-elves are the cause of the mess."

"Ah, then, do you know of anyone who has something been stolen by sack-elves?"

"Let's see... Oh, there's Zahmra! She lives in that part of the village, and she told me one of her shoes went missing. Oh, poor her, she had to go to the cobblers with half a pair of shoes on!" The woman laughed, and Mason smiled in consideration.

"That's great. We'll go find her now. Do you have any idea where she is currently?"

"Zahmra should be in the bookstore near the central square. You can't really miss it—there's only one bookstore here, after all," the woman said, giggling again.

"Alright, thanks for the information," Mason half bowed as he thanked the woman.

"Oh, it's fine. It's about time someone did something about the sack-elves. Good luck on your quest!" The woman waved and walked away. Mason waved her goodbye as well.

"Now then," he turned to face Alessia and I, "we need to find the central square now."

"That shouldn't be hard to find," I said. "How big could this village be?"

—Turns out, the village is only so big. We aimlessly walked around the small settlement, making our way through flowery alleys and open roads. Then, we finally reached a court-like place with market stalls around, and shop-like buildings surrounding the perimeter. In the middle was a raised stone dais, though nothing was performing on top there. Only a few people were sitting on the platform, some eating while others relaxed.

"This must be the square," said Alessia.

"Looks like one to me," Mason mused. "Any of you see a bookstore?"

I looked around, gazing into every shop window and stall display, until my eyes locked onto a mahogany wood building, similar to its neighbors, with large windows displaying books. A small rack was placed outside with newspapers tidily fit in.

"Is that it?" I pointed to the building.

"Can't hurt to take a peek. Let's go," Mason said, as he led the way into the shop.

Inside, the first thing I spotted was books. Rows and rows of books, ranging in different colors, sizes, quality, both in paperback and hardback. They were ordered into five different shelves alphabetically instead of being categorized in genres. An autobiography would be in one column, and its immediate neighbor could be a non-fiction deep-sea adventure. It must be a pain to find anything in here.

By the entrance to our right was a small counter, and behind it a woman with optics sat reading a book in her hands. Her hair was maroon, tied in a bun as well, but small strands of it loosened in front like curling vines. The lines on her face showed some age, but she couldn't have been more than forty. Her attire was similar to the other lady we saw earlier—a simple long-sleeved buttoned shirt that was colored green, though faded quite drastically. Her slim-fit black pants showed her curves well.

Alessia greeted her this time.

"Um, hello there, do you mind if we ask you something?" she asked gently.

The woman, who I assumed to be Zahmra, lifted her head up and stared at us, with her brows raised. She spoke slowly.

"Yes, my dear? What help can I be of you?"

"Well, the three of us are on a quest in this village, and we're trying to find information regarding the sack-elves that are said to be terrorizing the village. A fellow villager pointed us to find you. Are you perhaps Mrs. Zahmra?"

"I very much am," she said, smiling as she closed her book with a bookmark sticking out by the top. "But I think you're quite mistaken about something here. There is nothing terrorizing our town at the moment. If there were, we'd be evacuated already, wouldn't we?"

"Well..." Alessia stuttered, but Mason luckily came to her aid.

"Actually," he started, "the aforementioned villager told us one of your shoes went missing. Could you elaborate on that point, please?"

Alessia looked at Mason, then sulked as she realized her inability to properly communicate so fluidly. I can't blame her either—Mason is a much better communicator than the both of us.

"Ah, that," Zahmra rolled her eyes, amused as she thought of the memory. "It definitely is problematic. The sack-elves are an annoying bunch, yes, but they're not posing a large danger to the village. I wouldn't mind to see them gone, though."

"That's our job here. If you could be so kind as to give us any leads, we'd be happy to remove the pests."

Zahmra nodded. "Very much appreciated. I don't know how much information you already have, but I only have basic information. The sack-elves have mostly targeted the north-western part of the village, which includes this here bookstore."

"Ah, we already found out about that. Any more leads?"

"Let's see... I do remember waking up to find one of my shoes missing, so I reckon the sack-elves only strike at night. Actually," Zahmra's eyes widened as if she'd just realized something, "most of the people here who've had something gone missing usually only find out the following day."

Mason nodded this time. "So they strike at night, got it. What else?"

"I think that's all I have," Zahmra said a bit sadly. "However, you can use one of my books for information. They should be somewhat helpful."

"Thanks, but we'll pass. We already have stacks of them about sack-elves and Arria."

"Understandable," Zahmra sighed, looking at her books. "But if you need any info, please do stop by here. I'll even give you discounts."

"That's very considerate of you," said Mason.

"Just a kind gesture, really. If you want more precise data, maybe find the village chief. He lives in the largest house around here. You shouldn't miss it."

"Got it. Thanks for your help!"

"You're very much welcome." Zahmra waved us off as we exited her little shop. Yet again, we only scored a tiny bit of a lead. We're not getting very far.

The three of us rendezvoused near the stone dais in the middle of the square, defeated as we pondered on our choices.

"So much for information," snarled Mason.

"This whole thing is a wild goose chase," Alessia complained. "We're going to end up going full circle sooner or later. We need to do something."

"But what?" I said. "There's nothing else we can do, is there?"

"Come on, Ernie, think! You're usually the brains of our operations," Alessia prodded. I was taken aback by her label of me as the schemer. Is that what I am?

"Let's gather what we know of so far, then," offered Mason.

"Hm... all we know is that the sack-elves are targeting the villagers around the north-west side of the village, and that they only strike at night. What can we do with that?" I muttered.

"Don't forget that sack-elves gather their stolen goods in one spot," said Alessia. "That might be helpful for sweeping all of them in one go."

"But the problem is where," I said. "If we don't know where their den is, we won't be able to get a single sack-elf exterminated, let alone a clean sweep."

"Who'd know where it is?" Mason asked absentmindedly.

"Nobody," I said flatly. "Nobody... except for the sack-elves themselves!" I cried, as everything clicked together. The cogs started to move in my mind.

"That's a given," said Alessia. She then eyed me as I was lost in my thoughts. "Hey, are you alive?" She waved her hand, which snapped me back to reality.

"I think I got a plan," I said giddily.

"Leave it to Ernie to solve our problems," Mason joked with a smirk.

"This'll be a delicate one. If we don't focus the whole way through, we might just miss our chance."

"...And what are we supposed to do?" Alessia raised an eyebrow.

"I'll tell you that later. For now, we'll need the village chief's cooperation."

"Shooting for the stars now, are you?" Mason chuckled. "This plan sounds big."

"It may or may not involve a large chunk of the village," I grinned.

"Very grand indeed."

"Let's go find the village chief first," I said. "He'll be a crucial part. I need some way of finessing him to lend us a hand, though."

"Leave that to me," Mason puffed out his chest.

I nodded. "Good. Alessia," I turned to face her, "how long does your Caligro spell last?"

"My magic?" Alessia's eyebrow moved further upwards. "Um, if I try hard enough, I can make it last for an hour. But the area of effect will be very small."

"No worries. You just need to conceal us three. The operations will be carried out at night anyway."

"What are you getting at here?"

"Just follow my instructions," I said. "The first thing we need to do is find the village chief. Onwards we go!" I led the way, knowing nigh of a single clue as to where the village chief stays.