Episode I – The Cozy Cabin

"No," I whispered in horror, "No, not again."

I stumbled backwards and fell over in shock, "Please, no," I croaked in desperation, "I just made it out of here."

Tears began streaming down my face as I stared out at the vast expanse of white nothingness. I slowly folded my legs into my chest and wrapped my arms around myself.

"I can't."

I fell over on my side, shaking violently.

"I can't do this again. Not again."

I laid there for I don't know how long, shaking and shivering as sobs wracked my body. I just kept repeating it over and over.

"Not again."

"Please, not again."

I cried in dismay.

I shouted my despair.

I laughed at the futility of it all.

And then I heard the thrum.

"NOOOO!"

*crash*

"GAH! SONNUVA—"

At the sound of the voice I jumped and tried to scramble backwards. I was trying so hard to get away that I didn't realize I was on a raised platform and fell off, smashing my face into a hardwood floor.

"Hey now, just calm—"

Undeterred, I quickly got back to my feet and tried to run for it, only for my legs to seize up and send me crashing back down to the floor with a cry of pain.

"Dammit, girlie, take it easy would ya?" the voice growled in annoyance, "Yer gonna bust up yer legs again!"

That managed to penetrate the fog of panic clouding my mind.

My legs?

I adjusted my position so that I could view my legs easier and the first thing I noticed was that I was wearing a simple white nightgown and some cotton undergarments. The second thing I noticed were my legs, both heavily wrapped in fresh bandages. I also had a few bandages covering my arms and head. Once I got a good look and realized I wasn't in any immediate danger, I placed my hand on my chest and took a few calming breaths before scanning my new surroundings.

Apparently the 'raised platform' I had fallen off of was actually a bed near the wall. Looking past the bed, I could see I was in an abode that mostly seemed to be made of wood; from the hardwood floors to the wooden planks that made up the walls.

Am I in some kind of cabin?

The place certainly felt very... lived in. There were all sorts of portraits, a fireplace that was currently alive with a warm, crackling fire, a few pieces of wooden furniture here and there, and various other odds and ends. On the far side of the room I saw some stairs leading up to a second floor. I also spotted a few things I thought were odd. There were some weird objects that seemed to be some combination of metal tubing and wood hanging from the walls as well as some antlers, what I think were bear paws, and other animal parts.

I grimaced at the sight.

"Cozy, ain't it?"

My gaze snapped back to the source of the rather gruff sounding voice.

Standing in a doorway with a tray of broken glass and an amused smirk, was a giant of a man. He wore a collared dark red linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up at the elbow, thick brown woolen overalls, and fur skin boots. All of that combined with his massive size painted the perfect picture of a mountain man. From the shaggy, graying hair, massive yet surprisingly well trimmed salt-and-pepper beard, and many wrinkles etched on his face, I could tell he was an older man, probably in his sixties or so.

I realized I was staring at the man and had completely missed the question.

"I-I'm sorry, what was that?" I asked, blushing a bit in embarrassment.

The man just let out a deep chuckle, walking over to a nearby trashbin and dumping the broken glass.

"Never ya mind, girlie," he replied.

He set the tray down on a table near the trashbin, and dropped into a puffy looking, maroon colored armchair next to the fireplace.

"So," he began, gesturing for me to return to the bed, "have ya cooled yer head a bit?"

I nodded and slowly pulled myself back on top of the bed wincing in pain as I did so.

"Yes, I'm sorry about that," I said, laying back down and covering myself with the wool blanket I had thrown off in my panic. "I had a bit of a... nightmare," I finished quietly.

The man scoffed, "Seems like ya had more'n 'a bit', girlie."

His tone was brusque but I could hear a small undertone of concern.

I simply nodded quietly, staring into the orange glow of the fireplace.

"...Ya wanna talk about it?" the man asked after a few moments of silence.

I shivered despite the warmth of the blanket and fire.

"Not particularly, no." I replied with a small shake of my head. Deciding to change the subject, I looked over at the man questioningly, "Were you the one who treated me?"

The man gave another small chuckle and shook his head, "Me an' my granddaughter found ya laid out on the road, broken an' bleedin'. I brought ya in, but my granddaughter did most of the nursin'."

"Oh," I exclaimed in surprise, I then gave him a thankful smile, "well, I have to thank you and your granddaughter then," I said with genuine gratitude.

"Ah, don't ya worry about it none, girlie," the man responded with a dismissive wave. He looked at me with a contemplative frown for a minute before asking, "Ya got a name, girlie?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said with an apologetic smile, "my name is..." I faltered for a second before speaking again, "please, call me Sparkle."

The man snorted and looked at me incredulously, "Yer not serious are ya?"

I can't really blame him for his reaction, it does sound a bit ridiculous in hindsight but...

"I'm sorry," I said with another apologetic smile, "if it helps, Sparkle is probably my surname, but that's all I can remember right now."

"Ah, I get ya," he said, nodding in understanding, "amnesia then, is it?"

I nodded in response.

"Sorry ta hear that... Miss Sparkle," he said with a sympathetic—if somewhat slightly amused—smile, "ya can call me Jack, most everybody does at any rate."

I gave him a confused frown, "Is that not your actual name?"

"Nah, but it don't matter none," he replied flippantly. His gaze suddenly turned intense as he looked at me, concern now clearly visible on his face, "more importantly, when we brought ya inside ya were a right mess, and I don't just mean yer body," he continued to stare at me, idly stroking his beard in thought, "ya were shiverin' and sweatin' somethin' fierce, babblin' like a madwoman while ya were out; mutterin' something about some kind of noise and not bein' able ta escape." He leaned forward in his chair, his stare level and unbroken, "what the hell happened ta ya back there, girlie?"

"I..." I swallowed and looked off to the side, face hidden behind the curtain of my hair. "I don't remember," I lied, "I'm sorry."

I can't talk about... that, right now. To be honest, I'll probably never be able to talk about it. Besides, he probably wouldn't believe me anyway.

Jack was clearly unconvinced, but thankfully he decided not to push the issue.

Desperate for another subject change, I glanced around the room before remembering something.

"You said you had a granddaughter, right?" I asked, turning to face Jack, "where is she?"

"Little Jessie's sleepin' upstairs," he replied, glancing at the staircase with a small smile, "was up until about two in the mornin' takin' care of ya."

"Two in the morning?" I asked raising my eyebrows, "what time is it now? For that matter how long have I been out?"

"Take it easy, Miss Sparkle," Jack said with a laugh, "it's about three-thirty in the mornin' right now, and to answer yer second question... well..." the smile fell from his face, "yah've been out cold fer the better part of a week."

My jaw dropped.

A week? I know I wasn't in the best shape when I made it out of... that place, but I didn't realize the exertion was enough to put me down for a week.

"And you're granddaughter's been taking care of me this whole time?" I asked with awe and a bit of guilt.

"Yes indeed," he confirmed with a nod, "hardly left yer side once, bless her heart."

I let my gaze drift over to the staircase.

"I guess I owe her a lot," I said quietly, talking more to myself than Jack.

"Hey now," he said, giving me a stern look, "don't ya worry about it none. She was more'n happy ta do it, and besides," his look switched to one of bemusement, "yer healin' mighty quick."

I blinked in surprise, "I am?"

He nodded, giving another thoughtful stroke of his beard, "What should've taken a few months ta heal—with the proper care, mind—is probably only gonna take about two or three more days at the most," he gestured to my bandaged legs, "and I'm talkin' about the worst of yer injuries. I got no doubt everything else has already healed."

Now that you mention it...

I took a moment to examine the bandages on my arms and head. Sure enough, there was no pain when I applied any kind of pressure to the injuries.

"It looks like you're right," I spoke as I set about unwrapping the bandages, "there's no pain at all, and..." I completely removed the bandages from one of my arms to see nothing but smooth, unbroken skin.

"Well would ya look at that..." Jack whispered in awe.

I stared at my arm in shock, "But... how?"

"I don't rightly know, Miss Sparkle," he replied looking slightly spooked, "what I do know, is that not three days ago you had some nasty lacerations on both your arms and big gash above yer left eye." He shook his head slowly, not taking his eyes from my arm, "Now it's like nuthin' happened," he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples with a heavy sigh, "that ain't normal, girlie. Not one bit."

By this point I had removed all of the bandages on my arms and head and had gotten off the bed, carefully making my way over to one of the wooden chairs near the fireplace and taking a seat.

I ran a hand over my face and felt no kind of gash whatsoever.

Not a single cut or bruise.

What am I? What was I? I thought, gazing into the fire, apparently I'm not as human as I thought I was... but didn't I already know that, though?

For a long time I just sat there staring at the flickering flames and absently rubbing my unblemished arms—that is, until I happened to catch Jack giving me a strange look.

Frankly, it was making me uncomfortable.

"Um, did you need something?" I asked nervously.

"Have ya ever heard tale of the Headhunter, Miss Sparkle?"

Something in his voice sent a chill down my spine.

"I... can't say I have, no," I replied, very much not wanting to hear that tale.

He looked at me for another moment before nodding slowly and pushing himself out of his chair with a grunt.

"A grim tale, that one," he said, walking across the room to another doorway, "not fer the faint of heart, but I reckon a tough girl like yerself could handle a little old scary story."

I wanted to protest the statement, but he had already moved out of the main room and into another. From the sound of clinking glass and running tap water, I could only assume he was in the kitchen making... something.

"Just gimme a minute and I'll tell ya all about it," he called out.

I opened my mouth to politely decline the offer, but just let out a resigned sigh instead and took another look around the main room. My eyes eventually settled on a pile of clothes neatly folded on a table. I was wondering who they belonged to when I spotted a familiar sheathed weapon set against a wall near the table.

Right, those must be the clothes I was wearing when I left the... when I was brought here. I looked back to the scabbard and, after a moments thought, directed a flat look towards the man in the kitchen, and the sword must be the reason for the 'tough girl' comment.

Well that or the apparent regeneration.

Eventually, Jack came back into the main room carrying a tray with a large stack of sandwiches and a cup of tea by the smell of it, though I couldn't tell what kind.

"Figured ya might be a bit peckish after sleepin' fer damn near a week straight," he joked, "was actually gonna set a tray of tea aside fer ya when I saw ya mumblin' and squirmin' about earlier, thought ya were finally about ta wake up." He gave a hearty laugh as he handed me the tray, "turns out I was right. Didn't expect ya ta start screamin' bloody murder though, made me drop one of my good mugs. Now, now, don't ya worry none, Miss Sparkle," he added as I opened my mouth to apologize, "with the state ya were in I don't blame ya one bit."

I still felt a little guilty about the broken mug, but I didn't say anything more about it. Instead I turned to the tray curiously.

"So what kind of sandwiches are these?" I asked as I picked up a sandwich and pried it open for a better look at the ingredients.

"Ah, nuthin' too fancy," he replied with a wave of his hand, "just some roast beef and provolone with honey mustard and mayo on rye."

I forced down a grimace and plastered a hopefully convincing smile of gratitude. I didn't mind most of what was in the sandwich, but I felt an odd revulsion when he mentioned roast beef.

Jack is right, though. I haven't eaten anything in a week so I should at least try to eat one of these.

I put the sandwich back on the tray and picked up the cup of tea, giving it an inquisitive sniff.

"I don't recognize this tea," I said, turning to Jack, "what flavor is it?"

"Not quite sure, actually," Jack said with a shrug. He let out a tired sigh as he sank back into his armchair, "Jessie picked it up when she took a trip into town the other day and I didn't bother ta check the flavor."

I quietly snorted in wry amusement.

Dubious tea to compliment the dubious sandwiches.

I made a mental note to ask about that town later.

Wait a minute...

I blinked, resisted the urge to facepalm, and made another mental note to find out where I was in general.

"Well, thanks for the meal regardless, Jack," I said with an honest smile, "I appreciate it."

"It's no bother, Miss Sparkle," he said with another dismissive wave, "We didn't heal ya up just ta let ya starve ta death," he pointed to the sandwiches on my tray, "now, eat. While it ain't a very long story, it also ain't a pleasant one, an' I don't want ya losing yer appetite before ya even had one bite."

I nodded somewhat nervously, picking up a sandwich and taking a hesitant bite.

My eyes widened in surprise and I took another bite, this one far more eager.

Wow, these are way better than I expected them to be, I thought as began devouring the rest of the sandwiches with gusto.

Jack nodded in satisfaction and leaned back in his chair, his expression turning grim.

"I first heard the story of the Headhunter from my gram way back when. The way she told it, the Headhunter had been a well known legend even before her time. Make note of that, girlie, it'll be important fer a point I'm tryin' ta make."

I nodded and took a sip of tea. Though I still couldn't place the flavor, it was surprisingly good.

"Now, the legend of the Headhunter may have been around fer a long time, but no one knows much about the Headhunter itself. Oh, there's rumors aplenty, most of em' from folks who claimed they had a run in with the thing; the problem though, is that the stories change from man to man so often it's damn near impossible ta separate the fact from the fiction."

"The fact from the fiction?" I interrupted with a nervous frown, "wouldn't that phrasing imply that there's some truth to the legend?"

"Oh yes, Miss Sparkle," Jack confirmed with a grim smile, "after all, wherever there's smoke..."

"There's bound to be fire," I finished, my frown turning contemplative.

"Exactly. Anyway," he continued, "like I was sayin', the Headhunter became a legend, not through visage, but deed," he looked at me pointedly, "what with it bein' called the Headhunter, I'm sure ya can guess what a lot of those deeds involved?"

I gulped and nodded taking another sip of tea.

Jack nodded in return, "Aye. Unlike the men an' women who hunt bounties fer money, this creature had it's sights set on something a bit more literal. It wanted yer head in the most gruesome of ways, Miss Sparkle," he tapped the side of his head, "and it stopped at nuthin' ta get to it. Many a folk would come home ta find their loved ones had quite literally lost their heads, and a lot of them shared that same fate not too long after."

"That's awful," I whispered, eyes widening in horror.

"Indeed it is," Jack agreed, "but ya wanna know the worst part?"

I didn't respond, knowing the question was more or less rhetorical and that he was going to tell me whether I wanted him to or not. And sure enough...

"It always manages ta vanish before anyone shows up on the scene," he raised a finger, "an' not once has anyone been able ta find the heads of the victims."

I almost dropped my cup of tea in shock at the implication of his words.

"Wait," I responded with slowly rising panic, "you told me there might be some kind of truth behind the legend, so I assumed the creature might've been some kind of serial killer that existed a long time ago," my voice grew shaky, "but just now, you were speaking as if... as if—"

"As if the murders were still happenin' ta this very day?" he offered.

I gave a jerky nod, too terrified to speak.

"Aye, that's right. The decapitations still continue on as they have fer all these years."

"AND NO ONE'S MANAGED TO CAPTURE THE KILLER THIS ENTIRE TIME!?" I yelled as I shot out of my seat despite the screaming protest of my legs. Fortunately, I had already set the tea back on the tray so there was no spill or broken glass.

"Mind yer voice, girlie," Jack hissed, glaring at me, "Jessie's still asleep upstairs."

I sat back down, abashed but still afraid.

He gave a tired sigh and leaned forward in his chair, a serious look on his face.

"There's a few things ya need ta understand about the Headhunter, Miss Sparkle," he told me, as if instructing a child, "we call it a legend fer a reason."

I finished off the last of my tea with trembling hands as I waited for his explanation.

"Really think about it, girlie," he challenged, "these beheadin's have been going on for years—an' by years, I mean a couple of centuries at least. Though the method remains unknown, the results don't; it's always a headless victim, an' the heads are always missin'. Like I said, not once have the heads ever been found."

"And the perpetrator is always gone by the time the bodies are found," I finished, lowering my head in thought. My fear was rapidly melting away in the face of my growing need to solve this mystery. I had to resist the urge to start pacing as I analyzed the information I already knew.

If the killer had been getting away so cleanly for centuries then I doubt it was any kind of long running crime syndicate. If that were the case, rumors would revolve around the organization rather than a monster—and that's assuming such an organization hadn't already slipped up and revealed themselves at some point in the past.

It could be a copycat crime, but really though? The same type of murder perfectly executed the exact same way every time? For centuries? No, that doesn't sound plausible either. Maybe it was carried out by a single person who found someone to pass the title of Headhunter to when they couldn't kill anymore and the murders continued that way? Wait, no, that's the same as the copycat crime scenario and has the same problem.

Could it really be some kind of invisible, immortal demon?

Gah, I need more information!

"What kind of rumors are people telling about the Headhunter anyway?" I asked looking back up at Jack.

He snorted and shook his head, "Every kinda rumor ya can think of, girlie."

I 'hmm'd' and decided to change tack, "Well... what kind of rumors do you hear the most?" I asked instead.

The man once again stroked his beard contemplatively before giving an unsure answer.

"Well..." he said slowly, "I haven't heard much lately, and I still don't know anythin' about what it looks like. From what I have heard, most of the murders happen in secluded areas outside of town—oh stop yer blubberin'," he added when I started panicking again, "the nearest town is at the bottom of this here mountain and there ain't been any mention of an attack in years." I calmed down a bit, though I wasn't fully convinced we were safe, and he continued.

"And besides," he said, getting up out of his chair, "if that sonnuva bitch wants ta pay me or Jessie a visit, well..." he walked over to one of the strange metal tubed instruments and pulled it off the wall, "...that's what I have these for," he cooed, stroking the instrument like some pet.

"That's right," I began, eyeing the object curiously, "I was meaning ask you what those were."

Though, given what we were talking about and the context in which he decided to bring that up, it's most likely a weapon of some sort.

Jack looked at me with a raised eyebrow, "You ain't never seen a rifle, girlie?"

"Rifle?" I parroted with a slight tilt of my head.

"Oh, boy," he muttered to himself rolling his eyes. He turned to me and spoke so I could hear, "Look, let's just say one shot from this beauty is enough ta put most things down fer good and leave it at that."

"But what—"

"Don't worry about it for now," he interjected, putting the 'rifle' back on the wall, "I'll tell ya more about it tomorrow—well, later today I guess. Speakin' of which..." he let out a jaw stretching yawn "...I think that's about enough fer now. I gotta go out an' catch us some dinner today and ya still need ta rest a bit more." He made to head upstairs when I stopped him.

"Wait, hang on."

He turned to me curiously, hand resting on the rail lining the stairway.

"Why did you tell me that story?" I asked giving him a level look. I had suspicions I wanted confirmed and this seemed like the best time to confirm them.

He gave me an unreadable expression for a second before looking away uncomfortably. He seemed to struggle internally for a bit before he finally released a defeated sigh and turned to fully face me with an apologetic look.

"There's some other rumors I've heard about the Headhunter," he began. "things like the Headhunter bein' an immortal god of death that walks the earth, or some demon that can take the shape of a beautiful young woman or handsome man ta seduce folk before draggin' them off ta their death."

I raised a disbelieving eyebrow, but Jack continued unhindered.

"There's also the fact that no one knows how the thing collects the heads or what it does with em'," his gaze flickered to something behind me and I had a feeling I knew what he was looking at.

"And with me just showing up out of blue in the dead of night, you thought I might be the Headhunter?" I asked with a knowing look.

"Well, can ya blame me, girlie?" he argued, gesturing at me, "I mean, look at it from my perspective," he began counting off his fingers, "me an' my granddaughter come back from a trip to town at night—somethin' we don't normally do because the path gets dangerous—an' we find a girl splayed out on the dirt road bleedin' ta death," he shook his head, "me an' Jessie are the only ones who travel up an' down this mountain, Miss Sparkle, the only ones. Injured travelers don't just 'show up out of the blue', especially not near my cabin.

"On top of that, ya don't look... normal. Ya got strange hair an' yer eyes are purple. Normal folk don't get hair an' eye color like that naturally," he turned slightly and pointed at my sword, "an' what about that? I ain't never seen a sword like it. Sure, it could some kinda heirloom or somethin' foreign made, but I don't know that for sure. Ya say ya have amnesia an' can't even remember yer full name, but I don't know if yer tellin' the truth.

"An' then there's yer weird healin' along with the fact that ya don't look even the slightest bit emaciated after nothin' ta eat fer a week. Oh, we tried ta feed ya, but fer some reason yer body rejected everythin' we gave ya. In the end the only thing we were able ta do was keep ya hydrated."

He leaned back against the handrail and let out an explosive exhale, running a hand through his hair.

"I'll be honest, Miss Sparkle," he continued, staring up at the ceiling, "despite yer injuries, I didn't trust ya; hell, I still don't fully trust ya. The only reason I didn't leave ya fer dead out there on the road was because Jessie begged me ta save ya."

I winced at the harsh statement.

He brought his head down to look at me again with an unnervingly blank stare.

"Ya aren't normal, Miss Sparkle."

"Even if ya ain't the Headhunter, yer definitely not human either."

It was then that I realized I had been unconsciously rubbing one of my arms. I stopped and looked at my hands.

He's right, I realized, I can't really refute any of that. I can't remember enough to refute any of his claims. For all I know I very well might've been this Headhunter. Maybe I might've used that sword to lop off the heads of my victims.

The thought sickened me, but I still entertained it.

I guess I really am something different. I know that, but...

I clenched my hands into fists and grit my teeth, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over.

But in the end, what does that make me?

The distress on my face must've been obvious because Jack's gaze softened and he looked away, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

"Ah, hell..." he muttered, then turned to me, making a placating gesture, "just... look, just don't do anything suspicious an' we won't have any problems. Does that sound fair?"

I wiped my eyes and nodded with a small smile, "Thank you, Jack... for everything. I know the current circumstances are suspicious, and I know it might not mean much coming from me, but I promise I'm not here to hurt you or Jessie."

I looked him straight in the eye, my face a mask of determination, "All I want to do is find out who—or what—I really am, and make my way home... if I even have one."

He looked at me for a long moment before chuckling and giving me a gentle smile.

"Get some rest, Miss Sparkle. Yer gonna need it if yer gonna be dealin' with Jessie."

With that, he made his way upstairs and I heard a door open and close somewhere above me.

Once he was gone I let out an exhausted breath.

What a morning.

I hobbled back over to the bed I was using, and laid down, trying to get comfortable. After a few minutes of tossing and turning I groaned in annoyance.

Ugh, I can't sleep with all these thoughts running through my head.

Why did I end up here?

Where even is here?

Who and what am I?

What's the deal with that sword and why can't I remove it from the scabbard?

What is the Headhunter really?

...what is that noise?

As I lay there in bed, I could hear a soft, consistent tapping coming from somewhere. I sat up and looked around, both confused and more than a bit nervous. Eventually, I managed to deduce the source of the noise as coming from one of the windows opposite the bed I was in. I listened for a moment more, straining my eyes to see through the darkness outside of the cabin.

The tapping came again, but I still couldn't make anything out beyond the window. After another few minutes of straining my eyes, I still couldn't see anything and the tapping had stopped. I felt an odd mix of apprehension and frustration. Giving a small grunt of annoyance I decided to ignore it and get some re—

The light from the fireplace went out.

The room was bathed in complete darkness and all my senses went on full alert in the ensuing silence. I could clearly see through the window now, but that did nothing for the heart that was rapidly pounding against my chest. Nor did it ease my now panicked mind when the tapping returned. My head snapped back to the window where I could now see a small silhouette just outside.

Though I could now see that something was there, I still couldn't quite make out the shape. I could hear the tapping coming from it's direction, despite whatever was out there showing no obvious sign of having moved at all. I tried to slow my breathing down to a normal rhythm as I stared at the shadow in the window.

It's not moving. Maybe a trick of the moonlight? Some kind of shadow cast by one of the trees outside?

I slowly inhaled and exhaled.

The tapping is probably one of the critters that inhabit the mountain.

Another deep breath, and I was calm.

There was probably a draft somewhere in the cabin that caused the fire to go—

"You poor child. So lost and alone."

I froze.

My eyes widened and my breath quickly began to pick back up.

I slowly turned back to the window, fully expecting to see the Headhunter or some other new horror.

Nothing had changed.

No. That's not true.

The shadow in the window still hadn't moved, but the tapping had once again stopped, leaving me in absolute silence.

And then two glowing golden orbs emerged from the dark shape.

My eyes remained locked on the window, breaths now coming in short gasps.

I heard something that sounded like a mix between a chirp and a bad cough come from the silhouette.

"Oh, my. You seem rather distressed."

My breath caught in my throat.

"Well I suppose that's understandable, but you really should try to calm down and get some rest, while you still can, child. Things are going to get worse for you very soon, and it wouldn't do to have you groggy and unprepared, now would it?"

What?

My panic was momentarily derailed by the voice's statement. Seizing the opportunity, I mustered up what little courage I could.

"W-what are you talking about? What are you?" I managed to croak out.

Is it the Headhunter?

I heard that strange chirping cough again.

"Oh no, child, now is not the time for such questions; though you needn't worry about me escaping off into the night with your pretty little head, I can assure you."

Before I could respond, the deep voice spoke again.

"You have many questions, and I may answer some of them when we next meet, but for now..."

I saw the shadow in the window shift slightly and it's eyes flashed with a bright golden light.

Sleep, girl.

My vision went black and I knew no more.

I slowly awoke to the feeling of something incessantly poking my arm.

"Oh, wow," a voice whispered in awe somewhere above me, "You were right, papa! She really is all fixed up, like magic!"

I stretched and sat up with an irritated grunt, trying to blink the sleep out of my eyes.

"Ah, dammit all, Jessie. Ya went an' woke her up with all yer pokin' an' proddin'."

I looked over to see a girl leaning on my bed, giving me a toothy smile.

She was young—probably no more than thirteen or so. Her navy blue overalls covered a short sleeved pink button up shirt and she wore light brown leather boots. She had bobbed auburn hair and though her slate grey eyes were a interesting contrast, there was something else my tired mind latched onto about the girl in particular.

She's got a very nice smile.

Before I could get a word out, the girl reached up and poked me in the nose.

"Boop!"

I snorted and instinctively batted her hand away. She just jumped up and ran into the kitchen, giggling the entire way. Jack had chosen to exit the kitchen with a plate of pancakes at the same time and just barely managed to avoid her.

"Oi!" Jack cried out, quickly sidestepping as the energetic girl ran past, "watch it, Jess! I told ya not ta run around when I'm cookin'!"

"You're already done, Papa!" she retorted from the kitchen.

He just grumbled and walked the rest of the way into the main room.

"I guess that's Jessie?" I asked with an amused smirk.

"Aye," he sighed, "a regular ball of fire, that one." He made his way over to my bedside and handed me the plate of pancakes, "There's orange juice in the kitchen," he offered.

I thanked him and dug into my pancakes. After a few minutes of eating, I glanced over to Jack to see him sitting in his chair messing with one of his 'rifles'. From what I could see, he had taken it apart and it looked like he was wiping one of the pieces down with a cloth. I watched him curiously for a few moments before he spoke up.

"So," he began, not looking up from his work, "how are yer legs feelin', girlie?"

I didn't fail to notice the carefully neutral tone as he spoke. Apparently Jessie noticed too because she slapped him on the leg with a disapproving frown as she walked by to sit on the opposite chair with a glass of orange juice.

"Don't be mean, Papa," she admonished, "and it's my job to take care of Sparky anyway."

I raised an eyebrow at the nickname, but didn't say anything about it.

She took a sip of orange juice and turned to me with a mock frown, "So how are yer legs, feelin', girlie?" she growled, doing a very adorable—if inaccurate—impression of Jack.

I giggled and Jack just rolled his eyes behind Jessie.

"I think I might be fine now," I answered, "I don't really feel anymore pain when I try to adjust them."

"Well go on then, girlie," Jack encouraged, "give em' a workout. Try walkin' around a bit."

I nodded and cautiously crawled out of bed. I slowly planted my feet on the ground and once I was up, I started walking around the room.

As I walked from my bed to the staircase across the room, I could see Jack and Jessie watching me intently—Jack with a slight frown and Jessie with pure glee. I was actually a little awed myself.

There's no pain whatsoever, I thought, both amazed and slightly disturbed, both legs were almost destroyed and yet they healed completely in a week.

I bent down to unwrap the bandages from my legs and, just like with my arms and head, there was no sign that any break had existed at all.

Unable to contain her excitement anymore, Jessie jumped out of her chair, ran over to me, and I gave a cry of surprise as she slammed into my back latching onto my neck and knocking me over in the process.

Oh, geez! I thought as the wind was knocked out of me, She's a lot heavier than she looks!

"Jessie..." I managed to wheeze out, "I can't b—"

"A week! I broke my arm really bad once and Papa took me to the doctor and I had to stay in that nasty hospital for a month before they let me go—"

"Jessie, please—"

"—but your legs got fixed like new in just a week! That's so amazing!"

"Ah, fer the love of the Holy Ones, Jessie!" Jack cried in exasperation, "Let the poor girl go!"

Jessie looked at her granddad in confusion, and then back to me.

She blinked.

"...Oh. Whoops." She released my neck and stepped away from me, skipping back to her seat while I was on my hands and knees, coughing and gasping for breath.

"Ya alright over there, Miss Sparkle?" Jack called out from his chair.

I coughed a few more time and clumsily rose to my feet, rubbing my now sore throat, "Y-yeah, more or less." I eyed Jessie somewhat warily, "Your granddaughter's got quite the, uh... grip."

He chuckled good-naturedly, "Aye, livin' in the mountains'll do that to ya." He looked over to Jessie, who had pulled what looked like a bunch of... doll parts from somewhere and was now sitting cross-legged on the floor putting them together, then he turned back and beckoned me over with a finger.

As I walked over he leaned forward in his chair and whispered to me conspiratorially.

"She'll deny it ta her dyin' breath," he told me with a smirk, "but between you an' me, she used ta be one of the frailest little things I ever did see."

"Really?" I asked, glancing at Jessie curiously.

And now she's so... energetic. I haven't even been around her that long, but I can't imagine her as a frail little girl.

A thought struck me then, and I looked back at Jack in bemusement.

"Wait, if you're her grandfather, why does she call you 'Papa'?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jessie stiffen and Jack grimaced slightly before letting out a quiet sigh.

Apparently I shouldn't have asked.

I quickly waved my arms in a placating manner, "I-I mean if it's a sore subject you don't have to—"

"Oi, Jess," Jack interjected, turning to Jessie with a gentle smile, "go upstairs an' grab my huntin' gear, would ya?"

Jessie's back was turned to me, so I couldn't see her expression, but she nodded once and quickly made her way up the stairs.

I watched her go with a worried look before Jack's voice caught my attention.

"Sorry about that, Miss Sparkle," he said with an apologetic smile, "I don't mind tellin' ya, but it's not sumthin' Jessie likes ta talk about."

"That's alright," I said, walking over and sitting down in the chair Jessie had occupied earlier, "I'm sorry if I made things awkward by bringing it up."

Jack shook his head, "Nah, don't be. Ta be honest I expected the question ta pop up at some point."

He set his now reassembled rifle on the table next to his chair and stood up, walking over to the fireplace.

"Jessie didn't always live with me here in the mountains, ya know," he began. He picked up one of the framed pictures sitting on a stand above the fireplace and stared at it with a wistful smile for a moment, before the smile fell from his face and he gave a despondent sigh, "She used ta live with her father—my son—and his wife down on a farm just outside of town before she came ta live with me."

He walked over and handed me the picture. I took it and looked it over curiously. The picture showed a younger, jovial looking man with black hair and a somewhat thin frame, and a rather lithe, auburn-haired, stern faced woman.

These must be Jessie's parents, I thought, smiling softly.

Nestled in between the two was what I assumed was a younger Jessie, peaking out from behind her father's leg with a shy smile. The three of them were standing together in front of an open barn. In the barn I could see what looked like the partially built metallic foundation for some kind of carriage.

After a moment, my smile turned to a frown.

I can't put my finger on it but... there's something... off about this picture.

Before I could investigate further, Jack spoke again, grabbing the photo from my hands.

"Her father fancied himself an engineer," he said with a derisive snort, "that was taken a little after he started workin' on what he called the 'Wanderlust'. Said it was gonna 'pave the way for the future of modern transportation'." He looked at the photo one last time before setting it back on the stand.

I heard him mutter something that sounded like, "The damned fool," and he walked back to his chair. He sat down with a satisfied grunt and continued his story.

"Well, he eventually finished the accursed thing an' insisted he an' his family take her fer a spin; a 'test run' he called it." he said, gesturing air quotes.

"I take it the ride didn't end very well?" I guessed, a little apprehensive about where the story was going.

Jack laughed.

There was no mirth in that laugh.

"Oh, ya don't know the half of it, girlie," he said with a humorless smile. He regain his grim countenance again after a moment and leaned forward in his chair, steepling his fingers and speaking to me like an instructor would a student.

"Now what ya need ta understand, Miss Sparkle, is that the vast majority of this region is forested mountains. That means a lot of steep ledges that'll drop ya into a sea of trees if ya aren't careful."

I nodded and he nodded in return leaning back again.

He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the chair.

That was all he did for a good minute while I waited patiently, not wanting to disturb whatever thought process he had going. Eventually he spoke again, his voice somewhat hoarse with emotion.

"That foolish son of mine," he groaned, obscuring the top half of his face with one of his massive hands, "I told ya he fancied himself an engineer, an' I woulda been happy ta support him—of course I woulda... but..." I heard him take a shuddering breath, "he loved ta tinker, ever since he was a lad, but he was never any good with machines. Everythin' he tried ta make only ever blew up in his face... literally." he looked at me, eyes glistening with unshed tears, "I told him, I told him those damn inventions were gonna get him killed one day."

I covered my mouth, sympathetic tears silently streaming down my face.

"I'm so—"

"Don't," he said, cutting me off with a sharp tone, then his voice softened, "just... gimme a minute, girlie. I'll be fine."

He took a few moments to compose himself before he continued in a somber and somewhat bitter tone.

"He took his wife an' Jessie out of the town fer his test run, an' not five Goddesses damned miles outside of town, one of the wheels gives out an' they all go tumblin' down the cliffside."

I gasped in horror and was about to comment, but Jack raised his hand to forestall whatever I was going to say.

"Pay attention, Miss Sparkle, because this is where things get a bit strange."

I closed my mouth and nodded, intrigued despite my distress.

"Fer some reason I still don't know to this day, me an' the rest of the townsfolk were never able ta find my son or his wife when we found the wrecked carriage in the forests below the cliff," he lowered his head, staring at the floor as he spoke, "the only clues we found ta what might've happened were twin trails of blood leadin' further into the forest. Most likely scenario was that they got dragged off by one of the beasts that stalk the woods."

I gulped nervously, "D-did anyone... follow the trail?"

He shook his head with a grimace, "Didn't bother, there was a lot of blood, Miss Sparkle," he looked at me, "whatever got em' out there, killed em' before draggin' em' off. That's why what we did find was so strange."

"And w-what did you find?"

He just stared at me for a moment, as if trying to decide how best to tell me. After an internal debate, he sighed.

"What we found was..."

"What Papa and the others found was me crying on the ground and covered in blood... or that's what Papa told me anyway."

Jack and I turned to see Jessie standing at the bottom of the stairs, carrying a leather backpack and some heavy clothing. She was staring at the two of us with a vacant expression that I found a little unnerving. I chose to ignore that however, and—in an odd reversal of the earlier scenario—I hopped out of my seat, rushed over and wrapped her in a tight hug, causing her to stumble back a bit, dropping the gear.

"I'm so sorry for what happened to you and your parents," I cried, "if I had known, I never would've asked about-"

"It's okay, Sparky," Jessie assured, another toothy smile replacing her eerily stoic expression, "It happened a long time ago and I got better. Besides, I don't even really remember what happened."

"But you—"

"Drop it, Sparky," she commanded in a tone of mock reproach.

I sniffed and backed away from Jessie with a small smile, "Alright, Jessie, if you're sure you're okay..."

Jessie groaned and started picking up the gear she had dropped, "I'm fine, Sparky. Now help me pick this up so Papa can get ready to go."

I blinked in confusion.

"Go?", I turned to Jack, "go where?"

"The woods out back fer some huntin'," he answered, raising an eyebrow at me, "what'd ya think I meant when I asked Jess to grab my huntin' gear?"

"Oh, right," I responded sheepishly.

I helped Jessie collect the rest of the gear and bring it to Jack, who started packing various things I didn't know the name or purpose of. After a minute he stopped and shifted through his equipment before calling out to Jessie.

"Oi, Jess," he asked, "I don't see the map here anywhere, did ya remember ta grab it when ya came down?"

"Nope," Jessie called back, "I'll go get it, Papa."

She ran back up the stairs, trying to pull a fur coat on as she went. For a time, I just sat in the chair and watched Jack finish the rest of the packing and put on his own fur coat.

"About yer original question," he began suddenly.

"Huh," I responded in confusion.

"Why she calls me 'Papa'," he clarified, "that was what ya wanted ta know, right?"

"Oh! Right," I answered nodding in understanding.

"Ta make a long story short—an' since I more or less told ya the long story—I took her in after her parents died an' she's been with me fer... oh, I think it's been a little over two years now. Fer a long time she was a mess; honestly I wasn't too much better, but eventually we were both able ta get over what happened an' move on—well, fer the most part anyhow. Somewhere along the way she just started callin' me 'Papa' an' that was that," he finished with a shrug.

As he went about checking his rifle, I sat there contemplating the story I had heard.

They've suffered so much, I thought despondently, my memory loss suddenly seems so... trivial in comparison to what they've been through... especially Jessie.

Another thought came to me as I saw Jessie come back downstairs with a map in tow, and I looked towards Jack tentatively.

"Hey... Jack?"

"Aye?" He responded, eyes locked on his rifle as he pushed... something into the bottom of it.

"Would you... happen to have any books about the area around here? Or the world in general?"

He gave me an odd look, and was about to respond when Jessie cut in, waving her arms around wildly.

"Oh, I got some books you can read!" She cried happily, "Just gimme a minute!"

She made yet another trip up the stairs and I turned back to Jack, shifting nervously and staring at the floor.

I really don't want to ask, and just thinking about what I would have to do makes me sick, but with the dangerous animals in the forests and a crazy, possibly immortal killer running around, it's probably a good idea to ask Jack for some help defending myself if worst comes to worst.

I looked up to see Jack giving me a bemused look.

"Is... there sumthin' yer wantin' ta ask me, girlie?" he asked with a confused frown.

I glanced at him nervously and gestured at the rifle he was shouldering, "Could you... teach me more about your rifles?"

His eyebrows raised in surprise and he looked between me and his rifle a few times before responding.

"Ya want ta learn how ta shoot?" he finally asked, eyebrows still raised in surprise.

I quickly raised my arms defensively "I-I didn't mean—I mean, I figured it would be best to learn just in case—well, this place seems like it could be... really... dangerous... and..." I trailed off as I looked anywhere but at Jack, wringing my hands together and continuing to shift nervously.

He's already done so much for me, despite his suspicions, and Jessie went far out of her way to take care of me. Neither of them had to do that and now here I am, asking for more.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Jack's sudden boisterous laughter.

"Huh?" I asked, blinking in surprise and confusion as he doubled over and continued to laugh.

His laughter died down eventually and, still chuckling, he responded.

"Ah, girlie... I haven't had a laugh that good in a while," he straightened up and addressed me with a small grin of amusement, "now before I answer yea or nay, tell me something, Miss Sparkle."

"Alright..." I agreed with an unsure frown.

He nodded his head in the direction of where my sword was resting against the wall.

"Do ya remember how good ya are with that blade of yours?"

"Actually," I began hesitantly, "I'm... really not sure."

"What do ya mean?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, "is it the amnesia?"

I shook my head and walked over to where the sheathed blade was, "I think it's a bit more than that," I picked it up and looked over the indigo scabbard. I was about to explain more when Jessie came back down the stairs, carrying a small load of books in her arms.

"I'm baaack~" she announced in a sing-song voice, "what'd I miss?"

"Apparently, Miss Sparkle here is wantin' ta follow in yer granddaddy's footsteps an' become a hunter," Jack answered with a smirk.

"Wha—but I... that's..." I sputtered, clutching the sword to my chest, "I said no such thing! I just wanted to learn more about your weapons to better defend myself!"

I grumbled quietly as Jack and Jessie broke into a fit of laughter at my reaction. Once the subsequent chuckling had died down, Jack spoke again.

"But seriously though, it's as Miss Sparkle said," he explained, "she's wantin' ta be able ta properly arm herself in case she lands herself in a dangerous situation."

"Well that doesn't sound like a bad idea," Jessie replied, setting the books down on a table, "you gonna teach her, Papa?"

"I'm thinkin' about it," he responded, turning to me with a thoughtful stroke of his beard, "but I believe Miss Sparkle was about ta tell me a bit more about that blade of hers first."

Jessie's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Oh, yeah!" she cried running up to me and eyeing the sword eagerly, "I was gonna ask you about that!" She turned to Jack crossing her arms with a pout, "Papa wouldn't let me touch it when we first brought you in."

She whipped back around to face me again before Jack could respond, "Sooo~" she prompted, jumping up and down with excitement, "tell me about the sword! Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

I laughed and gently pushed her away before looking back to the sword with a thoughtful frown.

"Unfortunately, there's not much to tell," I began, "when I first woke up after... losing my memory, this was the only thing I had with me," I looked over to Jack, who was listening intently, arms folded and leaning against a wall, "the strange thing is, while I don't remember who I was before I woke up, I have a strong feeling that I never once learned how to use a sword," I shook my head as my gaze returned to the sword in question, "I don't know how I got this or why I have it... but I do feel a sort of... connection to it that I can't really explain." I looked at the two sheepishly as I remembered another important detail, "Well, there's that and for some reason, I can't pull the actual sword out of it's scabbard."

Both Jack and Jessie's eyes widened in surprise.

"Really now?" Jack asked with a hint of intrigue.

I nodded, "I pulled as hard as I could, but it didn't even budge."

"Mind if I give it a go, girlie?" he offered.

"Yeah, let Papa try," Jessie added, "he's a big guy! If anyone can pull something out of something else, it's Papa!" she stated proudly.

Jack groaned and I chuckled, handed him the scabbard, "You're welcome to try if you want. Honestly I'm curious to know what the actual blade looks like."

As Jack took the scabbard and examined it, I looked around the room absentmindedly and spotted the books Jessie had placed on the table. Sword momentarily forgotten, I quickly walked over and sifted through the stack until I found one entitled 'Hestenia: Understanding Our World'. I smiled, feeling truly happy for the first time since I had woken up in that horrible place.

It's like a void inside me that I didn't even realize existed is being filled right now, I thought with glee and a bit of curiosity, maybe I was an avid reader before whatever happened, happened.

I took the book, and sat down in the wooden chair nearby. I went to flip the book open when a loud grunt made me jump. I looked up to see Jack struggling to to pry the sword from it's scabbard. He had grasped the sheath with one hand and the grip of the sword in the other and, by the strained look, heavy grunting, and bulging neck veins, I could clearly tell he was pulling with every ounce of strength he had. I actually found it a bit comical, and I could tell Jessie agreed if her cackling was anything to go by.

After one more pull, Jack gave up with a heavy sigh of exhaustion and looked at the scabbard incredulously.

"Didn't move an inch..." he exclaimed in awe, then he walked over and set the sword down next to the pile of books, "well I'm sorry, Miss Sparkle, but that sword ain't coming out of there anytime soon."

"Maybe you just aren't as tough as you used to be, Papa," Jessie quipped, walking to the front door of the cabin.

"Aye?" Jack challenged giving Jessie a mock glare, "an' I suppose ya could do better?"

"Nope. I'm good," she responded flippantly, not even looking back at Jack.

I raised an eyebrow at Jessie, weren't you just jumping at the chance to check out the sword for yourself?"

She waved a hand dismissively "Nah, watching Papa fail was good enough for me."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack responded, rolling his eyes. He did one last check of his equipment and followed Jessie to the front door, before he stopped and turned to me.

"We'll be out fer awhile so make yerself comfortable. There's still some orange juice and tea in the icebox along with whatever ya need ta make sandwiches," he turned to walk out before stopping again, "oh, and remind me ta teach ya the ins an' outs of usin' a huntin' rifle when we get back."

"I will," I said with a grateful smile, "and thanks again, Jack."

"Well, I did tell ya earlier this mornin' that I was gonna give ya the run down," he said with a wink.

I blinked.

Oh, yeah. He did say that, didn't he? But wait... I thought furrowing my brow.

"wouldn't it make more sense to take me with you if you're going to teach about how to use rifles?"

Jack shook his head, "Aye, normally that'd be the case, but where me an' Jess are goin' can be more'n a bit dangerous fer a greenhorn."

"And... Jessie's not a greenhorn?" I asked skeptically.

"Hey!" Jessie cried indignantly "I know these woods like the backs of both my hands!" she waved her hands in front of her face as if to make a point.

Jack chuckled and placed a hand on her head, "Believe or not, Miss Sparkle, little Jessie here is actually a damn fine shot fer her age."

"Yeah," Jessie added smugly, "so you better show some respect, Sparky!"

I raised my arms in surrender, "Alright, okay I concede," I lowered my hands and gave her an encouraging smile, "you really are amazing, Jessie."

She gave me another one of her toothy grins in return and skipped out the door.

Once she was out of earshot I turned to Jack with a small frown.

"You're really okay leaving me here on my own?"

He shrugged and stepped outside, hand on the doorknob, "It's like I said, Miss Sparkle, don't do anythin' suspicious an' we won't have any problems."

With that, he pulled the door closed and I found myself alone.

For a moment I sat there, just basking in the silence. After that moment I got up from the wooden chair and settled into Jack's cushy armchair with my book.

I'm going to be sitting for awhile so I might as well get comfortable. I'm sure Jack won't mind, I thought with a mischievous smirk.

I glanced at the title of the book one more time.

"Hestenia..." I mused with a slight frown of melancholy, "I wonder if I'll find any clues about my home..."

Setting those thoughts aside for the moment, I pulled the book open and began my research of the world I was dumped into.

I'm not entirely sure how long I had been reading for, but I estimated it was at least two hours or so. I had only managed to get through about three of the books so far and I ended up having to more or less skim through 'Hestenia: Understanding Our World' due to the sheer amount of information. From what I learned through that and the other books I'd read through so far, this world had four large continents and several smaller land masses. Each continent had several countries; some were bigger than others and each with similar or differing governments. Most countries I read about seemed to be a kingdom or empire of some sort.

Apparently, I was dropped on the continent of Palimus in a country called Vale. Jack's cabin was nestled right in the middle of a steep, heavily forested mountain known as 'Demon's Peak'; named so for it's treacherously narrow roads. The town resting at the base of the mountain was a small farming village called Thatch.

I was also able to find out that the 'rifles' Jack owned were a type of handheld projectile weapon called a 'gun'. It turns out these 'guns' were a relatively new invention, but in the ten years or so that they had existed, they had advanced rather quickly. Though the books I read through had information on what a gun was, they didn't have any information on how they worked, much to my irritation. In this case, I would just have to rely on Jack's knowledge for now.

And then there was the more... unsavory information I came upon.

I found out that many of the nations on each continent were in an almost constant state of war for some reason or another. There were wars both big and small and wars both civil and otherwise. Not to mention the brutal weather conditions that could crop up from time to time, various deadly beasts that roamed the land attacking towns and villages, and all manner of crooks and villains terrorizing the innocent.

What's worse was that some of the beasts I read about were so big they could pass for a small mountain.

This was the kind of world I was thrust into.

Needless to say I was shock, appalled, and scared out of my mind.

I could definitely see something like the Headhunter existing here after reading all of this.

Deciding to take a break, I closed the book I was reading, got up from the comfy armchair, and stretched my arms and legs. I set the book back on the table and walked into the kitchen to make myself something to eat.

The kitchen itself was fairly small and unassuming; there was a large sink for washing dishes, some cupboards, and a large wooden counter top for food preparation. Curious, I walked over to the large icebox sitting in a far corner of the kitchen and pulled it open. Within, I saw the ingredients Jack had talked about but rather than a sandwich, I opted to make a salad with the vegetables I found. I even found a bottle of some sort of salad dressing.

Sometime later, I walked out of the kitchen with a bowl of freshly tossed cucumber salad and a cup of what I now knew was called firemint tea. Sitting back down in the chair, I dug into my meal and idly let my gaze wander around the room.

I noted with some amusement that it was most likely late in the afternoon and I had yet to replace the nightgown with my own clothes.

I should probably get dressed.

Moving on, my eyes wandered over to the unlit fireplace and something seemed to register in the back of my mind.

I feel like I'm forgetting something...

I knew there was something there, just out of reach, but I couldn't pull it to the forefront of my mind.

My gaze slowly inched upward to the stand above the fireplace and met with the same picture frame I had seen earlier this morning. Not taking my eyes off the picture, I set my bowl down on the table next to my sword and the stack of books. I got up, made my way over to the stand, and picked up the picture frame.

What is it? I thought, giving the family in the photo a hard stare, Why does this picture bug me so much?

My eyes widened in realization as it finally hit me.

Everyone in the photo had soft brown eyes.

Including Jessie.

I swallowed and put the picture frame back on the stand with a shaky hand. I took a step back from the fireplace, my gaze still locked on the photo.

I'm reading too much into this, I thought desperately, She might have some sort of eye disease that causes pigmentation in the eyes to deteriorate over time.

It seemed as good an explanation as any for the change in her eye color, but I just couldn't bring my self to believe it. The discrepancy in that photo disturbed me greatly and I couldn't figure out why.

Maybe... maybe it's more than just the eyes.

I was about to try and piece together what I knew about Jessie, when the front door suddenly slammed open. I yelped and spun around to face Jessie who was wearing an impish grin. When she saw my reaction she doubled over, cackling obnoxiously.

"Oh wow," she choked out, "that was too good!"

I, for my part, just stood there trying to get my breathing back under control.

"That... that wasn't funny, Jessie," I panted, glaring daggers at the girl.

"Well I'm laughing aren't I?" she replied with a smirk.

"That's not—"

"Oi! Move it, Jess!"

At the sound of the voice, Jessie skipped out of the doorway and Jack walked into the house with a large gray lump draped over his shoulder.

"Um, Jack?" I asked tentatively, eyeing the thing he was carrying. On closer inspection I saw that whatever it was, was covered in fur, "what is that?"

I'm fairly certain I already knew the answer.

"Grey Forest elk," he exclaimed happily, "Jessie bagged it herself."

I looked over to Jessie, who gave me another toothy smile.

I shivered.

"Wow, that's... pretty impressive," I said, quickly looking back to Jack with a strained smile.

He practically beamed as walked over and ruffled Jessie's hair with his free hand, "Ah, it's like I told ya, a damn fine shot, this one."

He turned and started walking back outside, "I'm gonna go put this out back an' then we can get started teachin' ya the art of the huntin' rifle," he said over his shoulder with a chuckle.

He shut the door behind him, leaving Jessie and I alone in the main room.

I stood in the middle of the room, shifting nervously while Jessie was perfectly content to sit on the edge of the handrail lining the staircase. She sat there, kicking her feet and gazing at the ceiling while she whistled a tune I wasn't familiar with.

I glanced over at her, biting my lip in apprehension.

Just ask her, Sparkle, I thought, trying to muster up some courage, there has to be a reasonable explanation.

I schooled my features and tried to look as nonchalant as possible, resting my arms over the back of the armchair.

"Hey, Jessie?"

"What's up, Sparky?" she replied, still staring up at the ceiling with a lopsided smile.

It almost looks like she's... eager, for some reason.

"When I was talking with your granddad this morning, he showed me a photo of you and your parents."

I winced as the smile dropped from her face.

"Yeah?" she replied tonelessly, still looking at the ceiling.

"Well..." I said with a bit more hesitation, "I just noticed something... odd about the picture."

She had now turned to fully face me with a carefully blank expression.

"And?" she replied in that same toneless voice.

I gulped, "W-well I noticed that all of you had brown eyes, but yours are different from back then."

I saw a flash of... something in her expression, but it was gone so fast I wasn't really sure if I had seen anything at all. Before I could make sense of it, she was all smiles again.

"Oh, is that all?" she replied with a chuckle, "from what Papa and the doctors told me, the trauma from when I was found in the forest, caused some weird change in my eyes," she jumped down from the handrail and gestured to her face, "so now they look like this!" she finished with that toothy grin.

"Ah... I see," I said with a fake smile.

That doesn't make sense! I thought as my heartbeat quickened, there could've been any number of reasons for the odd change in her eye color that would've been perfectly acceptable, but mental trauma doesn't just drastically change eye color like that! That's just... that...

It was at this time that Jack re-entered the house. I glanced at him and noticed his hands were stained a dark crimson. I shuddered before realizing that it must've been from the elk Jessie had killed.

It still didn't help my nerves.

"Alright, girlie," he announced, walking into the kitchen, "just gimme a minute ta get cleaned up and we'll get started."

"You want me to get the training rifle out, Papa?" Jessie asked, already running to the 'rifle wall'.

"Aye," I heard Jack call back, "an' the range set up out back while yer at it."

"On it!" Jessie yelled back, already heading out the door with the rifle and a small box. She stopped in the doorway and looked me up and down with a raised eyebrow, "Are you really gonna learn to fire a rifle in a nightgown?"

I quickly glanced down at my attire and looked back to Jessie with a sheepish smile, my embarrassment temporarily drowning out my unease.

"Sorry, I was actually going to get dressed before you two came home, but I kind of... forgot."

Jessie merely shrugged and continued out the door.

I walked over to where my clothes were and grabbed them before looking around in confusion.

"Hey, Jack?" I called out.

"Aye?" he called back from the kitchen.

"Is there a place I can get dressed at?"

"Bathroom's upstairs ta yer immediate right, can't miss it."

"Alright thanks, Jack," I called as I headed up the steps. I got a noncommittal grunt in response.

I reached the top of the stairs and took a quick glance around. The second floor looked relatively small, being more or less just a hallway with four doors, all of which were closed.

So there's Jessie and Jack's rooms and... a guest room? I thought with a frown, why couldn't I have slept there? Unless it's not a guest room...

I looked at the other doors for a moment longer before shrugging off my curiosity and pushing open the door on my right. The bathroom was small with a simple shower that was just big enough to stand in, a porcelain toilet with a wooden lid, and a sink with a mirror above it. I set my clothes down on the seat of the toilet and took a moment to finally get a look at my own face.

Wow, Jack was right, I thought with some interest, I really do have violet eyes.

Aside from my violet, almond shaped eyes, my face was fair and slightly heart shaped. I had sidelocks that reached down just past chin level and a fringe that ended just above my eye brows. The rest of my hair was cut straight all the way down to the small of my back as I had observed before. I nodded in satisfaction, before frowning in bemusement.

All things considered, I don't think I look too bad, but... I feel like I should look a bit more worse for wear given everything I've been through. I haven't taken a shower in days and... I sniffed myself and made a face. I couldn't quite place the smell but it wasn't good, okay so I still do need a shower, but I look like I just spent hours getting ready. How does that even work?

I shook my head, dismissing the thought for now.

I have a bigger mystery to solve right now.

I stripped out of the gown and spent a good fifteen minutes putting on my original outfit.

Once that was done I walked out of the bathroom and back down the stairs. I didn't hear anything coming from the kitchen and when I went to investigate I didn't see anyone.

"They must already be outside then," I thought aloud.

I walked out of the kitchen and went to walk to the front door, but I stopped partway and glanced at the table by the armchair. After a moment's thought, I grabbed the sword off the table and strapped it to my back.

Might as well complete the ensemble.

With that done, I opened the front door and stepped out side for the first time since I escaped from that place. Closing the door behind me, I turned and squinted in the sunlight. The position of the sun indicated there was only four or five more hours before nightfall, but the altitude I was at and the direction I was facing made it so that I was looking directly into the shining orb in the sky.

Lowering my gaze, I could see that the front of Jack's cabin faced a cliff several dozen meters away with a rocky path that led down a slope that cut into the cliffside. I walked a bit further out and turned to look at the cabin itself. I wasn't any kind of home designer or anything like it so I didn't really have much to say about it other than that it did look surprisingly fancy from the outside, like someone had spliced a small, nondescript log cabin with a two story mansion.

Hugging the left side of the cabin was a massive rock face that seemed to rise for several stories before tapering off to a dull point. Over on the right was a large empty field that couldn't seem to decide between grassy or rocky. Further in the distance I could see the tree line of a forest.

This is a really nice place, I thought, raising an impressed eyebrow.

I remember Jack saying something about setting up a range out back, so I walked around the cabin looking for any sign of him or Jessie.

"Oi, girlie!"

I stopped and looked in the direction of the voice. Standing about a dozen yards away I saw Jack waving me over to where he and Jessie were setting up what looked like big planks of wood in the shapes of various animals. I ran over to the two and waved back.

"Sorry, am I late?" I asked worriedly.

"Nah, yer just in time in fact," Jack replied wiping his hands on his jacket, "follow me, girlie. I want ta show ya what you'll be workin' with." He walked over to an odd tiny wooden bench that was set up a ways away from the animal shaped planks and I followed behind. Once we reached the bench I could see one of the rifles was placed on some sort of stand facing the planks. next to the stand was a small box filled with small pieces of metal varying in length.

From what I've read, this must be the ammunition, I looked over to the wooden animal cut outs, and I guess those must be the practice targets.

"Alright, Miss Sparkle," Jack said clapping his hands together, "I'm going ta give ya the run down on how a rifle works an' then Jessie will help ya put what ya learned into practice while I get supper started, sound good?"

I nodded, feeling an odd sense of eagerness and discomfort at being taught how to use a weapon.

This is something I need to do, I reminded myself, especially after reading more about the dangers I might have to face eventually.

"Alright then," Jack continued, "I hope yer a quick study, Miss Sparkle, because I'm only goin' through the explanations once. We're burnin' daylight an' I've got ta get dinner goin'. First things first though," He turned to where Jessie was still idling by the targets.

"Jess!" Jack called out, "get yer ass over here an' come show Miss Sparkle what a properly loaded an' fired rifle looks like!"

"You got it, Papa!" Jessie called back. She ran over to where we were and gave whistle of appreciation when she saw me.

"You clean up nice, Sparky," she said with a smirk.

"Um... thanks?" I replied with a look of bemusement.

"Come on, Jess we don't got all day. I've got ta get that elk skinned and cooked by nightfall," Jack interjected impatiently.

"Alright, alright I got it," Jessie responded with a roll of her eyes.

She then sat down at the bench and got to work. She grabbed the rifle and pulled back on a handle attached near the top after pushing a small tab next to it. She then grabbed some ammunition from the box, flipped the gun over and fed the ammo into a slot in the bottom before turning it right side up and pushing the handle back into it's original position. Resting the rifle back on the stand, she leaned over the bench. She gripped the gun and took aim.

She continued to aim for a few seconds more before she finally fired, the resulting bang making me jump. She fired three times—one shot per target and all shots hitting the head dead on. She pulled and pushed on the handle after each shot and every time she did, the ammunition dropped out of the rifle, leaving me a bit confused. After the third shot, she pushed and pulled the handle one last time before flipping the small tab above the handle, and jumping off of the seat, leaving the rifle on the stand.

I looked over to the targets she had hit, then back to the rifle. I found I had gained some respect for the weapon after witnessing how it worked first hand.

It's definitely a powerful weapon, and it doesn't really seem all that hard to use. Granted, I don't know the proper terminology for the parts of the gun in question and there's probably more to it than just 'aim and shoot', I shouldn't have too much trouble picking this up. I should also take extra caution in case these guns are used against me.

"Oh, yeah!" Jessie cried striking a pose, "now that's how you do it!" She turned to me with a self-satisfied smirk and jerked a thumb towards the targets, "So what'd ya think?"

I didn't answer her right away due to the mental cataloging I was doing regarding what I had seen. I was jolted from my thoughts when I felt a hand slap my leg.

I blinked and looked down to find an annoyed Jessie giving me a flat look.

"I'm sorry, Jessie, what was that?" I asked with an apologetic smile.

Jessie huffed and turned away, "Ah, forget it," she grumbled.

I went to apologize again but Jack walked up and clapped a giant hand on my shoulder, tearing my attention away from the brooding child.

"So, ya think ya can manage after that little demonstration?" he asked, looking at me expectantly.

"I think so," I replied with a nod, "it doesn't look too difficult, and whatever needs fine tuning I can probably do on my own."

"Good girl," he responded with a smile, "now then..." he picked up the rifle from the stand "...let's get started, shall we?"

for the next half hour, Jack taught me about the different parts and pieces of the rifle and the types of ammunition. My confusion regarding the discarded ammunition was cleared up when he explained that the particular action Jessie had used was to eject the spent cartridges and replace them with new ones. He also threw in some basic information about guns in general and the different ways to load and reload ammo.

He also made sure to drill what he called the 'Four Cardinal Rules of Safety' into my head.

"The four rules are as follows," he started counting off his fingers, "first rule is ta make sure yer always handlin' yer gun as if it were ready ta fire; doesn't matter if it ain't loaded, never treat it otherwise."

I nodded and he continued.

"Second an' third rule kinda go together. Always remember ta keep yer gun pointed in a safe direction when yer not usin' it an' never put yer finger anywhere near the trigger unless yer absolutely certain yer gonna fire."

I nodded again.

All of this just seems like common sense so far.

"And the final rule of thumb is ta always, always be aware of yer surroundin's an' what's directly in yer line of sight at all times. Ya got all that, girlie?"

"Every word," I said with a smile. Without another word, he shoved the rifle into my hands and gestured to the shooting bench.

"Alright then, let's see what ya can do, Miss Sparkle."

I sat down at the bench with the hunting rifle and, making sure to flip the safety off, pulled the bolt handle back. I grabbed ten of the .303 caliber cartridges and fed them into the internal magazine through the bottom of the rifle, pushing the bolt handle shut afterwards. Setting the rifle back on the stand, I leaned over the bench and—gripping the stock near the trigger with my right hand and the handguard with my left—I aimed down the sight towards the targets.

There were four targets total; two were elks in mid stride, one was a bear rearing on it's hind legs poised to attack, and the fourth was a fox crouched low. Jessie had managed to put a hole in the head of an elk, the bear, and the fox.

I should probably aim at the biggest target for now.

I rested my cheek on the stock and took a few deep breaths. On the fourth exhale, I pulled the trigger.

The first shot went wide and I flinched as the rifle kicked. Jack had warned me about recoil and, while it wasn't as bad as I expected, it still took me by surprise. I took two more shots, missing the second and grazing one of the bear's paws on the third. After the fourth shot missed, I began to get frustrated which, in turn, only caused me to miss even more.

I knew this wasn't going to be as easy as it looked, but this is ridiculous! I thought, gritting my teeth and taking another shot, I've only managed to hit the thing once out of the five shots I've taken!

The final round that left the chamber hit the bear square in the middle.

"FINALLY!" I cried out in exasperation. I pulled the bolt handle back one more time to eject the last spent casing and pushed it back before flipping the safety on. Jessie decided to walk over as I was rubbing my temples in aggravation.

"Sooo..." she began tentatively, hands in her pockets, "how was it, Sparky?"

"Terrible," I groused, "ten shots and I only managed to hit the biggest target twice."

I would've been more nervous around Jessie given my suspicions, but at the moment, I was too irritated to care.

"You're the expert," I said turning to face Jessie with a frown, "what exactly am I doing wrong?"

"Well first off, you,"she poked me on the nose, "need to calm down. Getting frustrated isn't going to help you. At all."

I nodded, rubbing my nose.

"Also, try not to flinch when the rifle kicks, throws off your aim pretty bad."

"Right," I responded with a sigh. I looked around the field and noticed Jack was nowhere to be seen, "where's Jack?" I asked turning back to Jessie.

She nodded towards the cabin, "He went to go get dinner started," she turned back to me with her increasingly unnerving toothy grin, "I hope you like elk stew."

My stomach turned and I grimaced.

"I... we'll see, Jessie," I answered hesitantly.

I have to keep an open mind about what I eat. I don't like that the elk had to die for our food, but I have to accept that it's just the way things are done. Not to mention I have nothing to my name, or what I can remember of my name anyway. All I have is a sword I can't use and I'll most likely have to fend for myself once I leave here. Why do I even have this aversion anyway? Was I some kind of vegetarian? I did actually enjoy the roast beef sandwich Jack made f—

"HEY, SPARKY!"

I jumped with a yelp and turned to glare at Jessie, who just gave me an irritated look.

"Do you always do that?" she asked raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Do what?" I responded raising my own bemused eyebrow.

"That thing, where your eyes kind of glaze over and you just stop listening to whoever's trying to talk to you. It's kinda creepy actually."

This coming from you.

I rolled my eyes and ignored the question. Sitting back down at the shooting bench, I decided to get back on topic.

"So what else do I need to know about this thing?" I asked as I reloaded the rifle.

Jessie and I spent the last four hours going over ways to improve my accuracy. I learned how to fire from a prone, kneeling, and standing position. I figured out how to adjust my position to compensate for recoil and just generally became more comfortable with the weapon. I was able to memorize everything we had gone over and by the time Jack called us in for dinner I was...

Adequate.

In the end, I managed to hit what I was aiming for about seven out of ten times. Not great, but I was able to do it consistently. I was positive I'd only get better with practice so I wasn't too upset about it. Once Jack had let us know that dinner was almost ready, Jessie and I took down the targets and moved the shooting bench into an outdoor storage shed before making our way back to the cabin with the rifle and remaining ammo.

As I stepped into the cabin, the smell of elk stew hit me and all my concerns and reservations about having to eat meat were immediately tossed out the window.

"That smells fantastic, Jack," I praised.

"I know, right?" Jessie agreed as she put the rifle back on the gun rack hanging from the wall, "I'd kill for some of Papa's elk stew."

"Come on, Jess, none of that now," Jack admonished from the kitchen, "why don't you an' Miss Sparkle move the chairs out of the way so we can bring the dining table out?"

"Roger!" she replied happily.

As Jessie and I moved the chairs, I watched Jessie, finally taking a moment to contemplate what I knew about her.

She seems like any other happy and energetic kid in their early teens. Yes, she can be a handful like Jack had mentioned before, but she's also willing to help at a moment's notice. She did beg her granddad to help me when I was bleeding to death and looked after me for a whole week.

But there's something... off about her, though.

I found her smile absolutely adorable this morning, but as the day went by, I found it more and more unsettling and now when she smiles, it sends a chill down my spine. There's the fact that she's incredibly heavy despite her small frame and height.

And that brings me to the two most suspicious things about her.

I didn't think about it when Jack was telling the story, but why would vicious predators of the forest leave arguably the most vulnerable prey unharmed? Why did she lie about her eyes?

What is she hiding?

I shook myself out of my reverie and refocused my attention on the task at...

Jessie was staring at me with a toothy grin.

I stumbled back and fell over a chair I had neglected to move out of the way. Scrambling back to my feet, I snapped my gaze back over to Jessie only to find her clutching her stomach and cackling like mad.

"Oh, geez! I—I can't..." Jessie wheezed out between laughs, "that was beautiful!"

I just stared at her, my heart trying to beat it's way out my chest. It was all I could do not to start hyperventilating as flashbacks of that empty white space and that horrible endless thrum rushed through my mind.

Jessie's laughter eventually died down and she looked at me again, this time with genuine concern.

"Hey, Sparky... you okay?" she asked worriedly. She took a step towards me and I stepped back in turn.

"Y-yeah, just... just give me a minute."

It seemed like she had noticed my distress, because she didn't try to get any closer though she did look apologetic.

"Hey look, Sparky," she began, raising a hand placatingly, "I didn't mean to scare you that bad. I—"

"What was that noise all about?" Jack interrupted as he came into the main room carrying a long wooden table, "did ya get the chairs set—Holy Mother of the Sun!" he exclaimed as he saw me, "what happened to ya, girlie? Ya look like ya just had a run in with the Headhunter itself!"

"It's my fault, Papa," Jessie explained, "Sparky was spacing out again and I thought it'd be funny to scare her a little," she stared down at the floor, abashed, "sorry."

Jack sighed and gave Jessie a stern look, "Now, Jessie—"

"No, it's okay, Jack," I interjected, finally getting my nerves under control, "everything's fine. It was just a harmless joke."

Jack blinked in surprise, looked at Jessie who gave him a sheepish smile, and then looked back at me.

"Well... if yer sure..."

"Yes," I said nodding with a small smile, "I'm fine now."

"Alright then," he exclaimed, "Jess, go get the food while I set up the table," Jessie gave a mock salute and ran into the kitchen and Jack turned to me with an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry ta ask ya this, Miss Sparkle, but could ya get some more firewood from out back?"

I balked at his suggestion, "You mean right now?" I turned to the window and saw that night had clearly fallen. I turned back to face him with an incredulous look, "Isn't that just a bit dangerous?"

Jack just chuckled, set the table down, and put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "The sun only just went down, so it should be safe as long as ya stick close to the cabin."

"Don't you have your lamps for lighting?" I asked pointing to a few lit lamps in the main room.

"Aye," he deadpanned, "but lamps won't keep us warm when it get's colder out tonight."

Oh... right.

"You'll be fine, Miss Sparkle, trust me," he said with an encouraging smile, "once yer round back, the logs'll be stacked right against the cabin, ya can't miss em'."

After a moment's hesitation, I let out a sigh of resignation, "Can I at least take one of the rifles? Just in case?"

Jack rolled his eyes at my perfectly reasonable fear of the unknown, but he got up and grabbed the same rifle I had used earlier along with a few rounds. He gave me the rifle and I loaded the cartridges before walking over to the doorway.

"Where you going, Sparky?" Jessie asked as she walked out of the kitchen holding a tray with three steaming bowls of soup.

I stared at the bowls for a second, inhaling the scent of the stew before answering.

"Your granddad asked me to get some more firewood, so..."

"Oh, alright then," she said with a shrug, "do you really need the rifle though?"

"Jessie," I replied giving her a serious look, "I don't know what's out there, and I'd rather not risk going out unprepared."

"Suit yourself," she responded, walking over to the table.

I huffed, opened the front door, and stepped outside.

As I closed the door behind me, I could tell that Jack was right to make sure we had firewood. The chill was already beginning to pick up and I shivered as I walked further out.

Okay, just go around back and...

Something was already wrong.

I was being watched.

I knew I was being watched, and it sent a familiar chill up my spine.

I gripped the rifle a little tighter and looked around the dark surroundings.

I didn't see anything out of the ordinary so far, but I brought the rifle up and aimed forward anyway, sweeping left and right as I slowly made my way to the back of the cabin. I kept my finger off the trigger, but I was listening hard for any sudden movements.

When I made it about halfway around the cabin I stopped and took a few breaths to calm myself.

I need to get a hold of myself. Nothing's happened yet and like Jack said, as long as I stick near the cabin, I should be fine.

I nodded to myself and continued walking.

Not three steps later, I heard a strange noise coming from above me and to my left.

I stopped dead, rifle completely forgotten.

I know that sound.

I whipped my head towards the direction of the noise. My eyes landed on one of the trees a little ways into the distance.

Another noise.

I looked further up the tall tree and, sitting on the highest branch in the tree was a familiar shadow causing that same odd coughing chirp.

"We meet again my lost little child."

It all came rushing back to me at the sound of that voice.

The tapping.

The vanishing fire.

The unrelenting silence.

The shadow in the window.

Even outside in the pale light of the rising moon, I still couldn't make out any of it's features save for the luminous golden glow of it's eyes. It sat there, as still as a statue and I could feel it's gaze boring into me.

I swallowed and attempted to steel my nerves.

I'm not sure how I forgot about this thing, but it didn't seem like it wanted to hurt me, I thought as I aimed the rifle in it's direction, maybe I can get some answers this time.

"W-what are you? A-and what do you want from me?"

I winced at the nervous stutter in my voice.

The shadow gave another eerie coughing chirp, which I was beginning to realize might've been a laugh.

"Very well, child. In commemoration of your... bravery, I suppose I can humor you a bit."

I let out a small sigh of relief, but still kept the gun trained on the shadow as it began to speak again.

"I have been many things in the past, my child... many things indeed.

"I have been a brilliant scholar, a benevolent ruler, a terrible tyrant, a mad prophet, a simple creature of the wood, and..."

For a moment, I felt its gaze intensify.

"...a faithful assistant."

I felt something stir in the back of my mind, but whatever it was, was gone before I could make sense of it.

"I have also been known by many names, but you may simply refer to me as Owlowiscious."

Owlowiscious? I thought, raising an eyebrow, what an odd name.

The shadow—Owlowiscious, laughed again.

"Alright... Owlowiscious, what are you doing here?" I demanded, feeling a bit more confident, "why are you stalking me?"

"Ah," it began, "you needn't mind me, child. I'm merely here to observe."

Observe?

"Observe what?" I asked, lowering the rifle and staring at Owlowiscious in confusion.

I saw the shadow move just a fraction before returning to its statue-like state. It had turned its gaze away from me and I got the impression that it was lost in thought.

For a moment, it didn't respond.

"What are you here to observe?" I tried asking again.

Silence.

"...Owlowiscious—"

"You were wondering about how the girl managed to survive her rather horrible ordeal in the forest, correct?"

How did it know that? I wondered with a growing sense of dread.

I gulped and nodded.

"Yes, but how did you..."

"She didn't."

The bottom fell out of my stomach as I started at Owlowiscious in silent horror.

"W-what?" I managed to croak out.

"Oh, yes," Owlowiscious answered, amusement edging into his voice, "the poor girl was, in fact, murdered, right along with her parents on that fateful day. A tragedy, really."

I dropped the rifle as I backed away in shock.

"I-I don't... but... b-but if she was... then..."

"If that girl met the same gruesome fate her parents did," Owlowiscious interjected, voice now full of mirth, "then what is that thing in the house with Jack?"

My face paled.

"You know," Owlowiscious mused, "the people in the little town down below have this interesting little proverb that I'm rather fond of..."

Nononono, not that. It can't be that. Oh, please—

"Oh, now how did it go again?"

"Oh no..." I whispered in terrified realization, "Jack has no idea."

"Ah, yes now I remember!"

I never caught the rest of what the shadow was saying. I was already rushing back to the cabin.

"Oh, well, maybe next time."

As it faded away into nothingness, Owlowiscious gave one last chuckle.

Silly girl forgot her rifle.

I ran to the front door of the cabin, praying it wasn't too late to save Jack from whatever was in there with him.

Don't play dumb. You already know what it is.

I shoved the thought aside as I threw the door open.

I froze.

"Oh, hey, Sparky!"

I took a step forward.

"Sorry about starting without you, I just couldn't wait anymore!"

Another step.

"It just smelled sooo~ good!"

A third step and I stopped, trying my hardest not to retch from the squelching that came from beneath my boots.

"Doesn't look like you got the firewood though. Eh, I guess we could just—"

"His head."

The thing hanging above me blinked.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Where's his head." I repeated, my voice hollow.

I already knew where his head was.

The evidence was splattered all over the tables, the floor, and the ivory daggers coming out of that thing's giant gaping maw.

"Oh, that," said the thing in a dismissive tone, "well, like I said, I couldn't wait anymore."

I turned my gaze away from the headless corpse that was splayed across the table and upwards to look directly at it.

It gave me a toothy grin.

"I tried to hold out until we were all here but the smell was driving me crazy."

"Why."

"Why what, Sparky?" it asked innocently.

"Why."

"Why did I trick you and 'Papa' here? Why did I replace little Jessie? Why did I wait so long for my meal? Why am I hanging around here talking to you when I could be having seconds? Is that what you're asking, Sparky?"

"Why."

It blinked again in confusion before a look of realization crossed it's face.

"Oh... I guess I broke you. Whoops."

The thing scuttled across the ceiling, down the wall, and stopped right in front of me, extending it's neck to peer closer into my eyes.

I made no move to stop it or run away. I didn't even lower my gaze from the ceiling.

"Hmmm..." it pondered "well, it doesn't look like you're going anywhere anytime soon," it stepped back and jumped on the table, adjusting itself as if to get comfortable, "I just ate, so I guess I could monologue at you for a bit, although I'm not even sure if you can hear me."

It cackled.

I didn't react.

"Well to answer your rather vague question, I like to play the long game, Sparky. It's how I've survived and stayed hidden all these years—well, that and the shapeshifting."

I slowly lowered my gaze to stare blankly at the mirror image of me lounging on the table.

"Useful, that."

The doppelganger chuckled.

I didn't react.

"Anyway," it continued with my voice, "I'm old, Sparky. Like really old—so old I don't even remember my age. I've seen and done a lot in my time and these days, all I really want is to enjoy myself. With my ability, I can basically live any life I want and when I get bored I just feast and move on much like I'm doing now. Although..."

It frowned and hopped off the table, discarding my image as it did so. It slowly scuttled around me with a look of curiosity.

I didn't react.

"You're honestly more of a mystery than I am," it mused, "from what I've seen taking care of you, you're certainly no human. Even back when I begged dear old Papa over there to take you in, it was because there was something off about you."

"Jack."

The thing stopped it's pacing and looked at me with interest, "Oh?"

I turned to the body of the kindest man I had met since arriving here, tears streaming down my face.

"I'm so sorry."

I started walking towards the corpse and the thing scoffed.

Before I could get any closer, a black, spindly limb lashed out and impaled the body, lifting it into the air.

I stopped walking and stared at the spot where Jack was for a moment, before I turned to track Jack's body as it was whipped to and fro by the thing's wiry black appendage.

"What exactly are you doing, Sparky?" the thing asked, waving the corpse around, "he's dead. He can't help you."

Another spindly limb shot out of the thing and tore the body in half.

"I guess I'm not really doing much to help your mental state, but..." it unceremoniously dropped the two halves to the floor, "I'm gonna devour your head anyway, so I don't really care."

It cackled again.

"The quacks probably wouldn't even be able to put you back together again anyway after something like this!"

Back... together...

"Well, this was fun and all, but I'm getting hungry again."

The thing scuttled back up the wall and across the ceiling, slowly making it's way above my head.

"I kind of wish you would've screamed or ran or something. But—"

"The... pieces..."

The thing stopped, and looked at me in confusion.

I ignored it in favor of the building headache I was experiencing.

I groaned and clutched my head in intense discomfort as the pain spiked rapidly.

"What's this?" I heard the thing mutter in interest above me.

Somewhere among the pain in my head, a thought surfaced.

When the Magic of Friendship falls apart, I'll make sure that we're prepared to put the pieces back together.

The floodgates opened and words slammed into the forefront of my mind like hammers.

Spike.

Princesses.

Research.

Friendship.

Magic.

I screamed in agony as a sudden, blinding flash of light erupted from directly behind me.

"GAH!" I heard the thing cry in surprise, "WHAT THE FUCK?"

I felt a completely alien, yet wholly familiar sensation travel through my entire body from head to foot. As the sensation passed and I came to my senses, I found myself lying flat on my back in a cold sweat—panting and gasping for breath.

I cried out in pain again as something slammed into and through one of my legs.

I glanced down and saw one of the limbs impaled in my left leg. I looked up at the thing and saw it shaking it's head and blinking rapidly.

"What the hell did you just do, Sparky?" it growled furiously.

My only response was to whimper in pain.

"You know what? Forget it, I'm not taking anymore chances," it said in a much calmer tone, "once I can actually see again, I'm taking your—ah, there we go," as it's vision cleared again, the thing glared at me.

My eyes widened in fear and I struggled to move. Another limb impaled my right leg and I screamed again.

It's gonna kill me.

I started to feel that strangely familiar sensation build up somewhere in my head.

It's gonna kill me.

I stared at the thing in wide-eyed horror as it's mouth opened.

And opened.

ItsgonnakillmeitsgonnakillmeitsgonnakillmeitsgonnaKILLME!

That sensation traveled it's way down through my neck, then down to the shoulders, then to my arms.

With an inhuman screech, the thing lunged.

NO!

Clenching my eyes shut, I threw my hands forward and prayed something would save me.

I didn't have to wait long because the instant I raised my hands, I heard a strangled cry of surprise quickly followed by a heavy thud and several loud cracks. At the same time, I let out my own cry as I felt the thing's limbs rip themselves out of my legs.

I sucked in several sharp breaths, fighting through the pain to see what had become of the thing. I spotted it crumpled on the floor all the way across the room. The wall just above it was splintered and, in some places, completely gone, letting the cold night air inside.

How did that happen? I wondered, then I looked at my hands thoughtfully.

"Did... did I cause that?" I muttered allowed.

"Grgh..."

My head snapped back to the thing across the room.

It hacked and wheezed as it started to rise, glaring at me with equal parts confusion and unbridled fury. It had a grey, tar like substance oozing from several small cuts in it's body.

"You..."

I tried to scramble backwards in fear, but my torn legs made that all but impossible.

The thing started crawling towards me, trying to extend it's broken limbs which only flopped to the floor.

"I'll have your head, Sparky." it hissed in a low, dangerous tone, "I don't what you did, but I'll have your head before you can do it again!"

With that, it let out another inhuman scream and lashed out, stretching it's neck toward me with an open mouth full of razors.

"NO!"

I tried to summon up whatever that sensation was, and the thing was thrown back once again, it's giant dagger-like teeth just inches from my face. With my eyes open, I could actually see what I had done.

What I saw made my jaw drop.

The thing had been thrown back against the wall again, but that's not what caught my attention this time. This time I was too transfixed on the magenta glow surrounding my hands as I held them out.

This is... Magic... isn't it?

While I was distracted, the thing began to lift itself off the ground again, grunting with the effort.

"Damn... dammit," it coughed again, "what the fuck are you, Sparky? I know I'm an abomination but you're definitely something else."

I glanced over at the thing struggling to get back up and something shifted within me.

This thing has been murdering innocent people for centuries.

There was a new feeling that was beginning to rise in my gut, something I don't think I had ever felt before.

It killed the real Jessie and was probably the one that killed her parents.

No, I was sure I had felt this at least once before.

This... thing killed Jack. It was going to kill me.

I grit my teeth as I glared at the thing trying to recover on the other side of the room. The glow from my hands intensified and the thing gave a yelp of surprise as it was lifted off the ground.

"H-hey what gives?" it looked over at me and it's eye widened with genuine fear, "wait, you're the one that's doing this?"

I ignored it's question as I crawled over and propped myself against the wall.

"Hey, Sparks, c'mon. You're a nice girl, you wouldn't do anything to hurt me," it begged, wearing Jessie's face.

That just made the feeling grow in intensity.

When the Magic of Friendship falls apart...

I raised a magenta-hued hand and lifted the thing higher into the air.

"Wha—hey! What are you—"

"You're a menace."

The Magic of Friendship...

"Don't do it, Sparky," it cried in a panic, "if you do this, it's gonna fuck you up in the head! Think about it!"

I'll make sure that we're prepared to put the pieces back together.

"WHERE WAS THAT CONCERN WHEN YOU TORE JACK IN HALF IN FRONT OF ME!?"

With a thought, I slammed the thing into the ground so fast it didn't have time to scream. I heard a satisfying crunch as it hit the ground, but I didn't stop there. I raised it back up and slammed it down again. I continued to smash the thing into the floor again and again and again.

I smashed it with my fear.

I smashed it with my pain.

I smashed it with my rage.

At some point I realized I was screaming. I felt tears stream down my face, yet I continued on regardless.

I eventually felt my body getting weaker and that was enough to clear my head and end my relentless assault. I dropped the broken, crumpled mess that used to be the Headhunter and slowly slid down the wall I was propped up against, breathing heavy and throat sore from screaming. I kept my eyes focused on the thing for a few minutes more, then I looked over to where it had dropped Jack. My gaze wasn't on the torn body for more than a few seconds before I turned to the side and retched.

The retching dissolved into choked sobs as I sat there and wrapped my arms around my bloodied legs. Jack was gone, Jessie—the real Jessie—had long since died, and I was alone again. I was in a terrible place right now, but as I sat there mourning Jack, I remembered the little piece of my past that I had regained.

I wasn't even close to being a human originally—not physically anyway. I lived in what seemed to be a completely different world from the one I was in now, as a pony and the Princess of Friendship no less.

I would've laughed if I wasn't in so much physical and emotional pain.

I had a castle, a dragon assistant, and an as of yet unnamed group of friends who helped me fight off villains using something called the Elements of Harmony. I even had a one-on-one battle with some kind of demon centaur thing named Tirek apparently.

This all seemed ridiculous to me.

I know these were my memories, but I didn't feel like I connected with them. I felt like I was on the outside looking into someone else's life. Maybe if I had the whole picture, something would change, but for now, the joy of regaining even a sliver of my memories was severely dampened by everything else that happened to me tonight.

Not even the discovery of my newfound magical ability helped much. Yes, I was able to use it to stop... kill, the Headhunter. Yes, I rid the world of an evil that had been plaguing it for centuries. None of this changed the fact that Jack had died and I was left alone and had no idea what to do next.

With these thoughts and several others swirling about in my mind, and despite the pain in my legs, I eventually gave in to the exhaustion from the days events.

I awoke in a panic.

I snapped my eyes to the left and right looking for any sign of immediate danger, but I found none. I breathed a sigh of relief before my gaze settled on the twisted pile of black flesh across the room from me.

All the memories of what had transpired before I passed out came rushing back and I had to force myself not to lose whatever was left in my stomach. Fresh tears made their way down my face when I looked over to Jack's remains and I spent the next few minutes crying silently as I sat against the wall.

A sudden noise coming from the table distracted me and I looked up to see a small fox with a red and white coat sniffing at one of the untouched bowls of elk stew. It looked over to me, but didn't really seem too worried, as it went back to inspecting the food a moment later. Thankful for the distraction, I continued to watch the fox as it turned and yipped a few times.

I wondered what it was doing, until I looked over to where it was looking and saw three other foxes emerge from the hole in the wall created when the Headhunter smash into it. I was also able to determine that night had passed, judging by the daylight streaming through the opening.

Glancing back over to the family of foxes, I could see all four of them were on the table digging into the three bowls of stew. The sight managed to bring a small smile to my face and I opted to let them finish, ignoring the rumbling of my own stomach.

Once they had eaten their fill, the one that came in first looked at me one last time before all of them jumped off the table and ran back through the hole in the wall. I watched them go, strangely feeling a bit better than I had earlier.

I can't keep sitting around here forever, I thought as I attempted to lift myself off the ground, I need to remember that life goes on, despite Jack's death.

I cast another glance at Jack's corpse and flinched, resisting the urge to fall back down and start crying again.

It's going to take some time, but I will get over this, I thought with a sniff, I have to. No one else is around to hold my hand and tell me that it's going to be okay.

It looked as though the Headhunter had missed the bone and any major arteries when it impaled me; either that or I had started regenerating despite any heavy damage I had suffered to anything important. My legs had stopped bleeding and were already beginning to heal. The most I felt at the moment was dull throb and I found that I could stand without too much trouble.

It took me a week to fully heal my broken legs before, I thought in bemusement, why did they heal so fast this time? Is it because I have magic now?

Pushing away those thoughts for later, I closed my eyes, put a hand to my chest, and took a few deep breaths to fully collect myself. I opened my eyes and looked around the room.

"Now what?" I asked myself aloud.

My stomach growled, making my choice for me.

Breakfast it is then, but first...

I raised my right hand towards the bed near the wall and—pulling from the wellspring of magic I now possessed—I enveloped a blanket in a soft, translucent magenta glow. I moved it over to where the two halves of Jack's body lay and settled it on top of the gruesome sight.

I'm sorry, Jack, I thought guiltily, I promise I'll give you a proper burial, but right now, I just need some time.

I didn't bother with the Headhunter's corpse, feeling nothing but hatred and disgust for the creature that killed the kind hunter, his family, and so many countless others.

Having finished that, I walked into the kitchen and saw that there was still some left over elk stew in a pot on one of the larger kitchen appliances. I recognized it as a stove based on what I read about modern inventions. I set the stove to heat the leftover stew and poured myself a bowl when it was done. I couldn't bring myself to sit at the table, so I just ate in the kitchen while I contemplated what to do next.

I can't stay here—well I could, but with everything that's happened here... no, I just can't. I won't find anymore answers by staying here anyway.

I idly stared out the kitchen window as I thought, taking in the morning sunlight.

I think the best option might be to head to Thatch and find some work. I don't have any money and I should also let them know the Headhunter is dead. If I'm going to travel though, I'll need some supplies and without money...

I grimaced before letting out a resigned sigh.

I'm going to have to take what I can from here. I don't like it, but that's my only option right now.

With a solid plan in place, I finished my stew and left the kitchen to look for some kind of pack to carry supplies in. As I headed upstairs I noticed the torn and bloody state my leggings were in and added 'find new leggings' to my mental checklist.

I should also probably shower, I thought as I passed the bathroom.

Entering Jack's room and searching through his possession almost made me sick with guilt, but I pressed on for the sake of survival. I ended up finding the large leather pack he had used to hunt the day before and taking just that, I quickly headed out of the room.

As it turned out, finding leggings that fit me was just as difficult as I expected it to be and in the end, I had to get creative with a pair of Jack's leggings and some shears I had found, though I did manage to find a needle and some thread. The next problem I ran into was that I had no idea how to sew and had to make some assumptions about how it worked.

The end result was... less than flattering, but it worked and I was able to cover up any mistakes I had made with my tunic and boots.

After I finished modifying the leggings, I went to the bathroom to take a much needed shower. As I undid the straps and removed the scabbard from my back I immediately noticed a change to the sword.

One of the runes is glowing! I thought excitedly. My mind went into overdrive trying to find out what this meant.

This must be what caused that light I saw last night.

I shivered involuntarily at the memory.

I'm also fairly certain this has something to do with the fact that I can use Magic now, I furrowed my brow, as far as I can tell, I'm only able to use telekinesis. Does this mean that I can use more magic if more runes are activated?

I looked over to the sword's grip.

I wonder...

I reached over, grabbed the grip and pulled.

The sword came loose.

I gasped in astonishment and, with a smile of anticipation, I slowly pulled the sword the rest of the way out of it's sheath. I held it out to the light to get a better look at it.

I had been right about the sword being strange. The blade was completely rectangular with a flat top that was as sharp as the sides. Rather than the fuller that usually ran down the center of the blade, there were instead two wide rectangular slabs of metal bolted to either side that reach from the handguard to about two-thirds of the way up the blade.

The slabs of metal were violet like the handguard and the blade itself was light pink in color. One of the most noticeable things about the blade were three small holes cut in a vertical line towards the bottom of the blade near the handguard, each hole in the shape of a six pointed star.

I stared in amazement at the craftsmanship of the blade and, after a moment, returned it to it's sheath with a nod of approval.

Setting the scabbard aside and removing the rest of my attire, I hopped in the shower. I turned the heat up almost as high as it could go and sighed in satisfaction as the searing water hit me.

I really, really needed this, I thought, closing my eyes with a small smile.

I stayed in the shower for about half an hour before jumping out and slipping my clothes and scabbard back on.

I grabbed a few more things from upstairs before heading down. This included a map of the area, some writing utensils and paper, and a few canteens. I also did end up finding thirty copper bits, five silver bits, and a gold bit in my search, which I reluctantly pocketed. Thankfully, I had read up on how the currency worked here.

Essentially, one hundred copper bits were equal to a silver bit, one hundred silver bits were equal to one gold bit, and five hundred gold bits were equal to a platinum bit.

Heading back downstairs with the pack in tow, I returned to the kitchen and grabbed several cans of fruit and vegetables. I found a few pounds of jerky in one of the cupboards wrapped in plastic and I took those out as well. After filling each of the canteens, strapping two of them to my belt and putting the rest of the supplies in the pack, I walked back into the main room.

I closed my eyes and exhaled through my nose, then I turned and glanced at the blanket covering Jack's remains.

I'm as prepared as I can be right now. That only leaves one thing left to do.

I stepped past the blanket and headed out the front door. Going around to where the storage shed was, I entered, grabbed one of the shovels and made my way near the cliff in front of the cabin. I looked out over the cliff to the scenery below.

It was beautiful.

Facing east from where I stood, I could see the entire town of Thatch and the farmlands to the north a little ways beyond that. Past the farmland I could see further down the mountain to the rolling hills below and beyond that, I could just barely make out the hazy outline of a castle in the distance.

If I can see it from all the way over here, that castle must be massive.

I stepped back and began digging a little ways from the edge of the cliff. For the next two hours I dug what would become Jack's grave, and by the time I finished the afternoon sun was hanging high overhead and my face was shining with sweat. As I walked back to the shed with the shovel, my eyes fell upon something lying on the ground a few yards away.

I blinked and my eyes widened in recognition.

Of course! I thought, running over to the rifle I had dropped the night before, I can't believe I forgot!

I picked up the rifle and went to head back to the shed to put the shovel away, when I stopped again. Remembering why I'd dropped it in the first place, I turned towards the tree where I saw Owlowiscious for the second time.

I wonder if I'll see it again.

I walked the rest of the way to the shed, put the shovel back and went back into the cabin with the rifle. I looked around and found a cabinet near the gun racks. Inside the cabinet was a sling that I used to strap the rifle to my back and some .303 caliber ammunition that I packed away into the leather bag. I left the rest of the rifles hanging on the racks.

As much as I'd like to leave everything as it was when you were alive, I have to take every advantage I can get, even if that means taking one of your rifles. I hope you can forgive me, Jack.

With my sword and rifle on my back, and the leather pack slung over my shoulder, I lifted the blanket off of Jack's corpse with my magic and set it aside. i then picked up the two halves of the body and walked back outside, floating them along behind me.

I made my way back to the open grave I had dug and gently lowered the body inside. Making use of my magic once again, I enveloped the mound of displaced dirt and pushed it back into the hole, flattening it into ground as best I could. The exertion left me exhausted, but I wanted to see how much magic I could use before I got tired, rather than use the shovel again.

"I don't have any kind of grave marker I can place here for you right now," I said in a strained voice, tears once again trailing down my face as I kneeled in front of Jack's grave, "but I'll make sure to find something for you when I reach the town. When I do, I'll come back to mourn you properly."

I sniffed and wiped my eyes as I stood back up.

"I promise."

With a look of determination, I turned and began my long walk down the mountain path towards the village of Thatch.

~ Worry not about the monsters hiding under your bed,
worry more about the hunter hanging over your head. ~

Author's Notes:

Well here it is, the chapter that took up most of the time I spent trying to get this story out.

Could I have just split it into several chapters and released the story like normal? Sure, but I wanted (and still want) to have a self contained (for the most part) adventure in each chapter. That's the reason I'm going with episodes rather than chapters, just feels right to me.

That's also the reason updates are going to be rather slow, unfortunately. My apologies to the people that enjoyed reading this. I'll still be working on this for sure, I just won't be scrambling to finish it like I did with these chapters. I do have another story I'm writing after all.

Well folks, as always, hope you're looking forward to more!

Note: If anyone is confused about what Twilight's sword looks like, I based it off the first design of Sol Badguy's Fireseal

Recollection I – A Revelation

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"Saddlebags?"

"Check."

"Snacks?"

"Check."

"Parchment and quills?"

"Check."

"Emergency parchment and quills?"

"Uhh... check."

"Alright, Spike, it looks like I'm ready to go!" I exclaimed happily as I levitated my saddlebags onto my back.

Spike rolled up the checklist and put it and the quill into the bags before stepping back with his arms crossed and a disappointed frown on his face.

"I still don't see why I have to stay here while you get to go back to Canterlot to see the other Princesses," he complained.

I groaned and rolled my eyes as I trotted to the front entrance of my castle, "I told you, Spike, I'm taking this trip for business, not pleasure. While I'm gone, I need you here to watch the castle and to send me or the other Princesses any messages in case something happens. Yes, I'm going to be meeting with Celestia and Luna, but only as a formality before heading to the Royal Archives where I'll most likely be spending most of my trip," I looked back at him with a sly smile, "or are you telling me you've suddenly developed an interest in extensive research?"

"Nope, I'm good," Spike replied, waving his claws and stepping away, "you have fun though, Ţ̕͟͝w҉͏͟į̸̕͜͠l̸͟҉̕i̢͘g͢҉̛͘͟h̕͏̷͞t̨́̕͡ ."

I giggled and gave Spike a quick hug, "I'm not sure exactly how long I'll be gone, but it should only be two or three days at the most."

"Yeah, yeah," Spike said dismissively, "I'll make sure everything's fine while you're out. Now get going, T͏̸҉ẃ̴̢̢͘i̴̡҉̷͞ , you don't wanna keep the Princesses waiting."

"You're right about that, Spike," I agreed, "tell the rest of the girls I said goodbye for me, would you?" Spike nodded and I headed out the front door with one last wave back. Once I was outside, I spread my wings and took off into the sky towards Canterlot.

Ever since my battle with Tirek, I had been thinking more about my talent and magic in general. It wasn't until a couple of months after the girls and I sent Tirek back to Tartarus that I realized something important.

When it came right down to it, all of the considerable knowledge of magic I had gained over the years—either through Princess Celestia's teachings or my own independent research—amounted to practically nothing in the face of both Tirek's power and the power my friends and I wielded as the embodiment of the Elements of Harmony.

Even if I was able to match Tirek with more power provided by the other Princesses, all we really did was throw a lot of raw magic around. The only spell I actually remember casting was a magic barrier and even that was mostly done on instinct. There were no real spells, no finesse, no tactics...

No real utilization of my talent or intellect.

When I came upon this realization I was shocked and upset, mostly at myself. The worst part of it is that, had I not been so anxious about wielding the magic of the other Princesses and angry about the destruction of the Golden Oaks Library, I probably would've been able to come up with a way to beat Tirek without all my friends getting captured in the process.

What happened instead, was the magical equivalent of a street brawl and a risky gamble to save my friends.

With these thoughts came another revelation—something I should've realized much sooner as a lifelong student of Magic.

Friendship is indeed a very powerful form of Magic; it might even be the most powerful form of magic there is, but Magic in and of itself is not Friendship.

I may have become the Princess of Friendship, but my talent still remains the study and utilization of all forms of Magic. As I reflected on the past adventures I had with my friends I realized I had taken this fact for granted and more or less relied solely on the Magic of Friendship and the Elements of Harmony to solve most of Equestria's bigger problems.

Sure it's worked for the most part, but I noticed that whenever we had to stop a major threat without using the Elements we only just barely managed to pull it off. There'd been several cases like this, such as the changeling invasion or Sombra's return; it had been the case with Tirek even with the Elements on our side.

Had he decided not to release my friends and instead did something smart, like stealing the magic from the races outside of Equestria, I wouldn't have been able to stop him even with all the magic I obtained from the other Princesses.

No.

It was then that I decided there had to be some kind of contingency plan in case the Magic of Friendship failed, as I now realized it would eventually.

In light of this revelation, I decided to pick back up the studies of magic I had been neglecting for so long. I love my friends and I wouldn't trade them, or the Magic of Friendship for anything, but now that I know there's a problem like this, I have to do something about it.

As I drew closer to the city of Canterlot, I picked up speed—a grin of anticipation working it's way across my face.

When the Magic of Friendship falls apart, I'll make sure that we're prepared to put the pieces back together.

Episode II – The Old Woman

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My trip down Demon's Peak had been uneventful so far and I was rather thankful for that after the events of last night. In the peaceful quiet of the late afternoon, I was left to ruminate on what little memories I had regained and everything that had happened to me since I first woke up in that empty place.

I was going to research something before whatever happened to me. It stands to reason that whatever I had been doing most likely led me to my current situation, but I'm still missing too many pieces to put anything concrete together.

I idly kicked a large pebble over the edge of a nearby cliff.

And that... white void... just what was that place? Why did I wake up there instead of coming straight here? What was that sound I heard and what was chasing me?

I kicked another pebble over the edge.

And there's my Magic and the sword I woke up with...

I raised my hand and it glowed softly. The same glow enveloped the hilt of the sword on my back and it pulled itself out of the scabbard and floated in front of me. I grabbed it out of the air and examined it, turning it this way and that.

Apparently I could use Magic all along, so that's one question answered, but what about the sword? There was no indication of me having one in the memory, so... maybe I got it sometime later?

Another thought occurred to me as I continued to stare at the sword.

Could this be what I was researching before whatever incident happened? Is this why I'm stuck here?

I glared at the blade briefly, but then sighed and returned it to its sheath.

No point in getting upset about it. I'm only speculating after all.

I kicked a third pebble off the edge as I continued walking.

*thunk*

"Agh! By the Sun that smarts!"

I jumped a bit, caught off guard by the sudden voice.

"Hey! Who's throwing rocks up there?"

I tentatively peeked over the ledge and saw that there was another ledge below that I hadn't seen. Standing on that ledge below me, was a thin, wispy looking man. He was wearing what looked like some kind of dark blue uniform and had a large bag hanging from his shoulder. One hand held a hat and the other was tenderly rubbing his balding head as he looked up with an irate scowl.

Whoops.

I briefly looked back over to where I was walking and saw that the path actually turned sharply, heading downwards to where the man was currently standing.

How did I miss that?

I turned back to the man and waved with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that," I called out, "I didn't know there was another path down there."

"Well, maybe next time you should..." he faltered, his irritation being replaced with bemusement as he spotted me above, "wait, what business do you have up on Demon's Peak?" his eyes narrowed slightly, "I was told that no one trekked through this dangerous place."

I opened my mouth to answer and hesitated.

What do I tell him?

After a moment's thought, I decided to go with the truth—or some of it anyway.

"I'm... actually not quite sure how or why I came here," I replied, desperately trying to keep the pain out of my next words, "the hunter and his... granddaughter, that live up here found me badly injured and nursed me back to health. I can't really remember anything before that," I thought for a moment and added, "I only recovered just recently and now I'm headed into town to find some work."

The man looked at me for another minute. He opened his mouth to inquire further, but closed it again before shaking his head, "Agh, it doesn't matter. Slogging my way up this blasted mountain path has taken up enough of my time and patience," he looked back in my direction with a frown, "you said you were staying with the hunter that lives here?"

I nodded.

Lived here, anyway, I thought morosely. I don't really know why, but something was telling me I should keep the man in the dark about the situation at the cabin.

He nodded in return and reached into his bag. He searched through it for a bit before pulling out what seemed to be a letter. He addressed me once again as he looked the letter over.

"I came up here to deliver a letter to one 'Jacob L. Ripp'," he looked up at me with an inquisitive raise of his eyebrow, "I was told Mr. Ripp had secluded himself up here on Demon's Peak with his granddaughter?"

I furrowed my brow in confusion at his mention of the name.

Jacob Ripp? I though in bemusement, before my eyebrows raised in realization, that's right! He did mention that 'Jack' wasn't his real name!

I started walking my way down to the man, responding as I went.

"That's right," I replied, "he and his granddaughter were the ones who took me in when I was injured, like I said."

"Ah, that's perfect," he responded, walking forward to meet me halfway. As he got closer he stopped and gave me a strange look. I stopped as well, noticing his look and raising an eyebrow.

"Is... there something wrong?" I asked warily.

The man blinked and scowled at me, looking almost... affronted?

"What are you trying to pull with that hair, girl? And those eyes?" he asked in irritation, "is this some sort of joke?"

I backed up a step, taken off guard by his rather intense reaction to my appearance.

Jack had mentioned my hair and eyes weren't normal, but I didn't think they would be that much of a problem...

I decided I needed a cover story, and quickly.

"No, no I'm sorry," I said quickly, raising my hands defensively, "I didn't mean to... offend you. Like I said before, I can't remember anything before I woke up near the forest path," I lied, "but I think the strange color of my hair and eyes might be some sort of..." I struggled with an explanation for a moment, "...genetic mutation—m-most likely a birth defect of some sort."

Sweat began to bead on my forehead as I waited for the man's response. I tried to keep a stoic expression, inwardly pleading him to believe the blatant lie. After a few tense moments of awkward staring, the man grunted and his scowl softened a little.

"Ah, well I'm sorry to hear that, lady. Just be prepared to catch a lot of shit for that when you get into town. Folks here don't like it when things aren't... normal."

Don't I know it, I thought ruefully.

"I'll... keep that in mind," I stated.

He nodded in satisfaction, "As you should. Now then—" he held out the letter to me "—I know you said you were headed into town, but seeing as you aren't very far down the mountain, can you do me a favor and give this to Jacob back at wherever he lives?"

I took the letter, giving the mail carrier a confused frown.

"Why would you give this to me to deliver? Sorry if I'm being rude, but isn't this your job?"

The man shrugged, "I don't know exactly where this Jacob lives and you do. Besides, I got more mail to deliver and I'm way behind schedule as it is. This place ain't even part of my regular route, I only agreed to come up to this Goddesses forsaken mountain because I owed someone a favor."

At that, he turned on his heel and started walking back down the mountain path—completely ignoring the fact that I hadn't even given him an answer.

"Is it even legal for you to do this?" I called out, gesturing to the letter in my hand, "aren't there guidelines for this sort of thing?"

He just continued to walk away, waving a hand dismissively.

I watched incredulously as he moved further and further away.

Why would he just trust a random stranger he just met with someone's private information?

I finally shook my head and looked at the letter in my hand contemplatively. The opening of the envelope was covered by a dark blue wax seal depicting a tower shield with a stylized crescent moon design over two crossed swords. I briefly pondered the emblem, but I couldn't really glean any meaning out of it. Ultimately I just decided to set my thoughts on the seal aside for the time being.

Well, he's not really in a position to receive letters anymore, and I'm not about to travel back up the mountain right now.

I let out a melancholy sigh, broke the seal on the envelope, and pulled out the letter.

At the very least, I might be able to find out more about him.

Unfolding the letter, I began walking down the mountain path again, sticking close to the rock face so as not to fall off the edge of the path while I was reading.

Jack,

I know we haven't spoken in a while and I'm sorry for that. Sorry I wasn't there when you lost your son, but know that I'm grieving right along with you. The man was like a nephew to me for what it's worth. As terrible as the whole incident was though, that's not what this letter is about. I'm writing this as a warning. You've got trouble, Jack. Big trouble.

The kind of trouble that could cost you your head if you're not careful.

We've been searching every damn hidey-hole in this region for the past three years looking for any sign of that Goddesses forsaken Headhunter and we finally managed to track its general location. Jack, that thing is near Thatch somewhere, and based on what we already know, it's probably gonna try to hide out on Demon's Peak while it scopes out potential victims. I remembered you telling me you were gonna settle down up there just before you left, so I pulled some strings to get this out to you as fast I could. I only hope you got it in time. We may have been able to track it down, but we still don't know what it looks like, so watch your ass.

If you notice anything suspicious don't try to be a hero, Jack. Contact us and we'll be there in a heartbeat. I know you haven't forgotten the sign, even after all these years. This is our chance to finally put this son of a bitch down once and for all, let's not waste it.

Oh, and tell little Jessie I said hi, will you?

~ Bannon

I read and re-read the letter a few more times, trying to memorize its contents. Satisfied, I replaced the letter in the envelope and tucked it into my bag.

I had several questions running through my mind at once and no way to answer any of them. Apparently, there was more to Jack than I realized. Much more. As I thought about what I read, I couldn't help but feel some resentment towards the mail carrier and a mix of confusion and growing anger about the timing of the letter.

When was the letter written? When was it sent originally? Why was it only arriving just now?

I grit my teeth, unconsciously clenching my hands into fists as I blinked back unshed tears.

If that mailman had gotten there just a day earlier, Jack might've... he could've... done... something! I thought bitterly, he might've lived... and I wouldn't be alone again. I wouldn't have had to face that thing on my own. I wouldn't be going into town looking for a damn grave marker!

I punctuated the last thought with a punch to the rock wall beside me, leaving a noticeable indentation in the stone. The slight pain in my hand from the blow cleared my head enough for me to realize there was only a slight pain; far too little for the damage I did to the wall. I slowly brought my fist back, staring at it numbly as a realization hit me.

No, I thought with growing dismay, Jessie was never a suspect. I was the one who showed up out of nowhere. I'm the one with strange hair and eyes, weird regeneration, mysterious Magic and above-average strength as I've just found out. Between Jessie and me, I was the most suspicious out of the two of us by far. Realistically, if that letter had arrived while I was still there and Jack was still alive...

"He probably would've tried to kill me..." I finished aloud in a quiet, horrified voice.

And even if he did, the actual Headhunter would've eventually killed him anyway.

With that sobering thought in mind, I readjusted my bag and continued down the mountain path in sullen silence.

The sun was beginning to set as I neared the edge of town. I decided to take a quick break, resting at the base of a tree on a plateau overlooking Thatch. I sighed and began to work out a plan of action on how to approach the townspeople. Pulling one of the canteens from my belt, I took a swig of water while I stared at the town in thought.

Okay, I thought, floating a piece of paper and a fountain pen from out of my bag, what do I know about the people of Thatch?

As I pondered, I began to write bullet points—my pen encased In a magenta aura as it whizzed across the paper floating in the same glow.

From what I can see from my vantage point, and from what I've read, Thatch is a small farming community with a population of approximately twelve hundred people. The majority of the buildings seem to be made primarily of various types of wood with some brick and mortar housing here and there—ironically, none of the building's roofs are built with the town's namesake.

I hummed in thought as I continued to observe the small town.

Based on what I've heard from Jack and what the mailman flat out told me, the people here are wary of anything out of the norm. Unfortunately, I can't do anything about the way I look so I'll just have to hope they won't do anything... drastic. Magic is also out of the question.

At that thought, I cast an intrigued glance at the pen and paper floating in the air next to me. It feels so natural to write like this, I thought.

It was true. I had gotten used to using my telekinesis very quickly and it soon felt like I had been using it all my life... which I guess had actually been the case given who and what I was back then.

I looked down at my glowing hands, I didn't even think about using my hands to write. Can I even write with my hands?

I released the telekinetic hold on the pen and paper, and—setting the paper against my bag—tried to write using my right hand, then the left. As I expected, my writing was horrible with both hands, though my left-handed writing was a bit more legible. Rather than waste more paper, I made a mental note to practice handwriting in the near future.

Putting the fountain pen and list back in my bag, I got up and looked towards the rapidly setting sun.

First order of business should be to find somewhere to stay for the night — possibly an inn if they have one, I pulled the out the bits I had collected from Jack's cabin, let's see... five silver, a gold, aaaaand... thirty copper. I'm not exactly sure what the going rate is for an inn, but this should be enough for at least a night. I just hope I have enough left over for Jack's grave marker...

I put the bits back in the pouch on my belt, hooked my bag back over my shoulder and set off for the town.

Night had fully fallen by the time I made it into Thatch. While not as cold as the night before, this evening was still a bit chilly. I had pulled my hood up to cover the majority of my hair as I figured it would be best to err on the side of caution and minimize any chance of being ousted as a freak. Of course, it wouldn't help when it came time to interact with the townsfolk, but every little bit counts.

I walked through the town, taking it in as subtly as I could so as not draw too much attention to myself. I could see that the majority of people in town were settling in for the night, taking down stalls and closing up shop. I spotted mothers quickly ushering children inside homes and doors and windows being shut and presumably locked.

The sun just set only about an hour ago and everyone is already calling it a night, I thought with growing unease, they're probably afraid of the Headhunter...

I could understand their fear — I was almost killed by the abomination after all — but this posed a problem for me. The more the streets emptied, the more I stood out.

I need to find an inn fast, I thought, looking around almost frantically.

Even with the multiple street lamps lighting the way, it was still getting harder to make out many of the buildings in the area. On top of that, I didn't know my way around town. I was beginning to hyperventilate as my anxiety grew and I had to stop and catch my breath.

Okay, calm down... deep breaths, Sparkle... deep... breaths, I placed a hand on my chest and moved it away as I inhaled and exhaled deeply. I repeated this action a few times and I felt my panic slowly ebb and — after a few moments — disappear entirely.

Nothing is going to be accomplished if you start freaking out now.

With a nod of satisfaction, I once again swept my gaze over the mostly empty streets. With a start, I realized some of the people remaining on the streets had seen my little panic attack and were eyeing me warily. I waved at them wearing an awkward smile, and the majority of them went back to whatever they were doing.

I noticed an elderly woman wrapped up in a dark blue cloak. She was hobbling along across the street, tapping a walking cane along the ground in front of her at regular intervals. It took me a minute to figure out why she had caught my attention until I realized she was the only one who hadn't given me any odd looks. She seemed to be content to keep to her own business.

Maybe I can ask her for directions, I thought, already beginning to walk over to where she was.

"Excuse me, ma'am," I called out politely, "do you have a minute? I need some help."

The woman stopped and turned towards the direction of my voice. I stifled a gasp of surprise as I saw her face. As it turned out, the old woman was completely blind in both eyes.

I guess that would explain why she wasn't giving me weird looks... as well as the cane.

Though she was obviously visually impaired, her glossy, milky white eyes seem to bore into mine and I had to suppress a shudder as I remembered the fake Jessie's lifeless gray eyes. After a moment, a gentle smile spread across her wizened face.

"What a lovely voice you have," she croaked out in a raspy, time-worn voice, "tell me, young one, what could an old bat like me possibly help you with?"

I was a little taken aback by the sincerity in her voice. Honestly, I had expected a little more hostility given my appearance, but then again, the woman was blind.

"Um, yes well," I started, trying to collect my bearings, "I was just wondering if you knew of a place I could stay for the evening." I looked around and saw that the streets were completely barren save for the woman and myself, "apparently it's not a good idea to be out so late at night," I finished with a hint of nervousness.

The lady chuckled lightly and started walking in the same direction she been before I stopped her. Confused, I opened my mouth to say something when she looked over her shoulder with that same gentle smile and spoke.

"Well come on now, young one," she said amiably, "it's awful dangerous to be roaming around here at night, and I'm sure my son has already worried himself sick about me."

My eyes widened when I realized what she was implying and I quickly tried to wave her suggestion away, forgetting her blindness for a moment.

"Oh, no," I stuttered, "I-I couldn't — I mean y-you don't need to—"

"It's fine, dearie," she replied, cutting me off, "I don't need my eyes to tell me that you're not from around here, and you seem like a nice young lady — if a bit weirder than most," she added, her gentle smile switching to a knowing smirk.

I gaped at her retreating form for a good few seconds before reluctantly following behind.

What did she mean by that? I thought in bewilderment, with her vision the way it is, she couldn't possibly know just how weird I really am... can she?

I tried to look past the flippant comment, but I found I couldn't. What was worse was that, rather than feeling relieved at having found shelter for the night, I just felt uneasy. This situation I found myself in felt a little too similar to when Jack and Jessie — the fake Jessie — took me in. I tried once more to get out of my current predicament.

"Um... excuse me, Miss..."

"Rosalyn, dear. Rosalyn Withers," she clarified.

"Miss Withers... you really don't have to do this on my account," I pleaded, "I have some money, if you can just point me in the direction of—"

"All the inns in town are already closed for the night, young lady," she replied, cutting me off with a stern and somewhat annoyed look over her shoulder, "you're just going to have to accept my hospitality. I expect you'll find that in short supply, what with the townsfolk being so wary of strangers. Trust me, dearie, you're better off taking goodwill where you can get it."

"But..." I struggled for an argument, "but why? Why would you just take me in like this? Not even knowing who I am — or even what I look like?"

She did make some very good points, but the lingering foreboding I felt pushed me to argue the matter further.

She stopped and let out a long, exasperated sigh that came out sounding more like a wheeze. For a heartbeat or two, she didn't say anything and just stood there with her back turned to me. Then she spoke, her tone worn and weary.

"I'm old, dearie. I got no family left, save for my son, and most of the folk around here don't really come to visit me anymore. You seem like a nice young lady and... well..." her milky eyes left me and stared up at a night sky she couldn't see, "I guess I'd just like someone new to... sit down and have a nice conversation with," she looked back at me with a gentle and inviting smile, "maybe over some tea and crumb cake?"

Crumb cake does sound good... but still...

"What about your son?" I pressed, "you said he was still around."

Rosalyn snorted and looked away, "That ingrate couldn't hold a proper conversation on threat of death."

My eyebrows raised at the sudden venom in the old woman's voice.

"He can't really be that bad, can he?" I asked with a small frown.

She shook her head.

"It wouldn't be that bad normally, no," she responded, "but lately he's grown old and bitter — not nearly as old as me, mind, but he's also getting up there in years and ain't no more pleasant a person for it."

"Then that's all the more reason why I shouldn't—"

"Don't worry about it, girl," Rosalyn interjected, "he won't say nothing while I'm around. Besides, he spends more time out and about nowadays than he does at home with his poor old mother."

"Oh," I said uncomfortably, "I'm... sorry to hear that."

"Ah, don't be," she said waving a bony hand dismissively, "now come on, then. The hour grows later and the air that much colder."

With that, she hobbled along further down the street, cane tapping away in front of her.

I still wanted to argue further with the kindly old woman, but I found myself out of arguments for the moment.

And it is getting colder out...

With a sigh of resignation, I hurried after Rosalyn before I completely lost sight of her in the gloom of the night.

I really hope I don't end up regretting this.

I couldn't tell exactly how much time had passed, but I could see the waxing crescent moon hanging high in the sky by the time we reached what I assumed was Rosalyn's abode. It turned out to be a humble little cottage near the farmlands on the northern edge of town — not that I could tell any of this by sight.

The street lamps had thinned out quite a bit as we got further away from the heart of the village and I was hard-pressed to see anything out here in this darkness. Oddly enough, Rosalyn didn't seem to have the same problems I was having. She was able to find her way with little trouble and had even told me what section of the town we were in.

I thought the whole thing was strange until something dawned on me.

"Rosalyn," I asked with a thoughtful frown.

"Hmm?"

"I'm not trying to be rude or anything, but... were you... born blind?"

Rosalyn chuckled good-naturedly.

"Wondering how I know where everything is when my eyes don't work, are you?"

"W-well, I'd be lying if I said wasn't a little curious..." I mumbled, looking away awkwardly.

"Oh, it's quite alright, dear," she responded walking up the steps of the house, "to answer your question... no. I could see just as good as anyone else up until about... oh..." she 'hummed' in thought as she opened the front door and stepped inside, "I'd say it was about twenty or so years ago."

I stepped into the house behind Rosalyn, closing the door behind me as I entered. Turning around, I took in the scenery before me. Rosalyn's house seemed to be a lot more humble than Jack's rather luxurious cabin. From what I could see, the cottage consisted of a large living space with an armchair and a large couch, a small kitchen area in the back, one door to the left and another to the right — presumably the bedroom and bathroom.

"But come now, dearie," Rosalyn continued, walking into the kitchen, "I'm sure you don't want to hear me prattle on about my infirmities. Just go have a seat anywhere you like and I'll fix us up some of those crumb cakes I mentioned earlier."

Rather than do as she asked, I followed her into the little kitchen with a worried expression.

She stopped and cocked her head to one side before letting out a tired sigh — much to my confusion.

"Looks like my boy is out late again..." she muttered.

I wanted to ask how she knew, but the fact that she was about to start baking without her sight worried me a lot more at the moment.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" I asked hesitantly, "I mean, I don't know how to bake, but if you can walk me through the steps..."

I stopped and slapped a hand to my face.

What am I saying? She's blind — she should be anywhere near an oven!

"Oh stop that," she chided, glaring in my general direction, "I know what you're thinking, missy, and I don't appreciate it. I may be blind, but I'm far from helpless."

As if to demonstrate her point, she flipped open one of the cabinets and proceeded to pull out several things, including brown sugar, flour, cinnamon and a few other ingredients I didn't recognize. She walked over to the icebox and pulled out some eggs and butter. All of this was done swiftly and without incident despite her lack of vision.

I gave an impressed raise of my eyebrows, I was still a bit leery of how well she could function without sight, but I honestly didn't know enough about how being blind worked to be any kind of judge, so I let it go at that.

"Why don't you go have a seat in the living room while I get started in here?" Rosalyn suggested as she heated the oven.

Well... she seems to know what she's doing at any rate...

I decided to take her advice and reluctantly stepped out of the kitchen. As I walked back into the main room, I took another glance around. I spotted two wooden chairs surrounding a small table near one corner of the room next to an antique dresser.

"Where should I put my things?" I asked as I made my way to one of the chairs.

"Anywhere you like, dear," Rosalyn called back from in the kitchen, "just make yourself at home."

I unstrapped my bag, my sword, and the rifle and set them next to the chair as I sat down. My previous experience had made me wary so I chose to keep my things close, just in case.

"What kind of tea do you drink, Miss..." Rosalyn paused, "actually, I don't think I caught your name, dear."

"Oh, right sorry," I called out. I was about to tell her what I remembered of my name when I had a sudden thought.

You know what? It might be better if I came up with an alias. It would probably help in the future, especially if I plan to get a job here in town.

I thought for a minute before answering.

"My name is... Stella. Stella Sparkle."

"Oh, what a lovely name," the old woman said with a small chuckle, "well, Miss Sparkle, what kind of tea do you drink?"

"Well, I'm partial to cinnamon and chai myself..." I answered, "but I recently got to try firemint for the first time and I thought it was pretty good."

"Interesting," Rosalyn responded thoughtfully, "I've never heard of chai tea and I don't have any firemint at the moment, but I'd be happy to brew you up some cinnamon tea if you'd like?"

"That sounds perfect," I said with a smile.

I sat there in a relatively comfortable silence while Rosalyn prepared the tea — the pleasant smell of cinnamon already making it's way to my nostrils. I took the time to collect my thoughts and make a few plans for tomorrow.

First I want to get an idea of how the townspeople will react to me...

I winced as I remembered my freakout back in town earlier.

That... probably didn't help.

I sighed.

"Hey, um... Rosalyn?" I asked tentatively, "can I ask you a... weird question?"

"Oh, go right ahead, dear," she replied with a chuckle, "you'll get no judgments from me."

I raised an eyebrow at the last statement.

What exactly does she think I'm going to ask her?

Shaking my head, I focused back on my actual question.

"How would I go about... fitting in with the townspeople here?" I asked, then clarified, "I know you can't see it, but I've been told more than once that I don't exactly look... normal."

"What do you mean, dear?" Rosalyn asked.

"Well, apparently my eye and hair color aren't common around here and I'm afraid that'll make it difficult to find some work, which is what I was planning to do here in Thatch."

"Strapped for cash, are you?" the old woman responded with a chuckle. I laughed along out of embarrassment more than anything.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that..."

I jumped a bit as a sudden high pitched whistle filled the air, and looked towards the kitchen in confusion.

"Still need some time for the cakes, but the tea will be out in just a moment, dearie," Rosalyn said from the kitchen. It took me a minute, but I realized the noise I hear must've been a tea kettle and I relaxed.

"Alright, thank you, Rosalyn," I said gratefully.

Maybe the tea will help with my nerves.

I was honestly surprised at how jumpy I had become. I was fine going down the mountain, but I had been on edge ever since I got into town. I had also noticed that my anxiety had been getting worse as the night wore on.

Was it the town itself that made me nervous?

Was it Rosalyn?

Was it how this small, homey cottage reminded me of Jack's cabin?

...Or was it the darkness of the night?

I started to think it might've been all of the above, but whatever it was, the fact remained that I just couldn't get comfortable. I wasn't exactly jumping at shadows yet, but I was close.

Just remember... deep breaths.

Be calm.

The Headhunter is dead, nothing is out to get you anymore.

I once again placed a hand to my chest, extending it as I slowly took in and let out lungfuls of air. After a minute of this, I gradually began to relax, letting my hand rest on the table.

"Are you alright, dear?"

I jumped in surprise at the sound of Rosalyn's voice. I looked over to see her standing in the entrance to the kitchen looking in my general direction with a small plate holding a steaming cup of tea. I could see a small frown of worry on her heavily wrinkled face.

So much for the breathing exercise...

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," I lied, "just a little anxious about meeting the townsfolk is all."

"Well I can understand that," she said slowly making her way over to the table where I was sitting, "most folk here like things nice and simple," she set the plate down in front of me and the scent of cinnamon was practically overpowering as I breathed it in, "they don't take too well to strangers."

"Great," I muttered, picking up the cup. I gave Rosalyn a quick 'thank you', blew the steam from my cup and took a sip of tea. It was as delicious as I expected it to be, but to my surprise, I found myself preferring the firemint.

"It's good," I said with a small nod of approval, "very good," I turned to the woman with a grateful smile, "thank you, Rosalyn."

"Not a problem, Miss Sparkle," she replied returning the smile, "if you're still thirsty, there's some more tea in the kettle."

"Thanks again," I responded. She nodded and hobbled back into the kitchen, presumably to check on the crumb cake.

"Well, even if your hair and eyes are a bit strange," she continued from the kitchen, "you shouldn't have too much trouble finding some work — if you're willing to show that you can earn your pay."

She was quiet for a moment and I could hear the sound of dishware being moved around and what sounded like the oven being opened.

"The people of Thatch are hard workers, she said after a moment, "they appreciate a guy or gal who can put in a hard days work with no complaints — well most of them do anyway," she muttered, "but I reckon every town has their layabouts."

I gave a small, indulgent laugh and took another sip of my cinnamon tea.

"So tell me, dearie," Rosalyn asked curiously, "just where did you come from anyway?"

I almost choked on my tea at the question.

"By the sound of your voice, I can tell you're a learned type. Good manners, cultured — not like the gits we have around here."

I tapped the side of my cup with a finger as I frantically tried to come up with an explanation. As I sat thinking, Rosalyn continued.

"I reckon you must've traveled out this way from Ruvenbor, seeing as that's the closest town for miles — not counting the roadside inns and taverns along the way."

"Ruvenbor?" I couldn't help but ask.

Rosalyn was quiet for a second before answering.

"Huh, guess that answers that question then," she muttered, then spoke louder, "you must've seen that massive castle out in the distance while you were traveling, right?"

I nodded before remembering she couldn't see me.

"Yeah, I did," I answered, "just how big is that castle anyway?"

"Well," Rosalyn replied, "I don't know the exact size, dear, but I do know that you can see it almost anywhere in Vale if you've got a pair of binoculars handy."

"Wow..." I whispered in awe.

"Yes it's pretty ridiculous alright," Rosalyn said with a chuckle, "biggest castle on Hestenia in one of the biggest cities on Hestenia."

I mentally ran through what I knew about large towns and immediately came to an exciting conclusion.

"I don't suppose a large city like Ruvenbor has a large public library to go with it, does it?"

"I don't know about a public library," Rosalyn answered, "the closest thing I can think of is the Ruvenbor Public Archives building in the city square."

That's even better than I was hoping for!

"Though it's not open to the public most of the time..."

My smile dropped slightly.

"...and when it is, many of the sections are heavily restricted."

My smile fell completely and was replaced with a pout.

"Why all the heavy restrictions?" I asked, slightly miffed, "they aren't really public archives if the public can't use them."

"Oh, the archives weren't always restricted like they are nowadays," she answered casually, "you see, Vale has become an extremely militant nation in recent years by order of King Revnun."

"Actually," I replied with a thoughtful frown, "I think I did read something about a war going on between Vale and... what was it called? Gran... Grin—"

"The country you're looking for is Grynda, dearie," Rosalyn corrected, "and yes, we've been at war with them for the past three years or so," she stepped outside of the kitchen and leaned against a nearby wall as she spoke, "anyway, "the king's a bit paranoid of spies right now, so he's put somewhat of a lockdown on the information held within the archives."

She gave a wry chuckle.

"It would be more appropriate to call the place the Ruvenbor Military Archives now. The only ones with any free access to the archives anymore are the Royal Army."

"Oh..." I gave a melancholy sigh, "well, I guess there's nothing I can do about it..." I looked back to the old woman with an inquisitive raise of my brow, "for a blind woman living so far out of the way, you seem to know a lot about what's going on in Ruvenbor."

"Well I should think so," she answered with a laugh, "I was part of the king's army once upon a time."

That caused both my eyebrows to raise in surprise. She must've predicted my shock because she laughed again.

"Hard to believe looking at me now, isn't it?" she said, still chuckling, "but rest assured, Miss Sparkle, I was full of fire back in the day."

I thought for a minute before realizing something.

"And how long ago did you move here?" I asked, slightly suspicious.

"Oh, it was years ago," she responded easily, "about forty-five years to be exact. Suffered a crippling injury in the line of duty and had to retire, so I chose to move out into the country," she slowly made her way back into the kitchen as she spoke, "back hasn't been the same since..." she muttered more to herself.

"So if you moved here so long ago, how do you know about what's been going on in recent years?" I asked, "have you been back to the city since then?"

"Oh no, dear," Rosalyn called out, "I haven't been back there in a dog's age," she was silent for a moment, and I heard the clattering of dishware before she continued a moment later, "I've got some old friends that come to visit from the city from time to time — keeps me updated on what goes on."

And there it is.

"But didn't you tell me that you never got visitors anymore?"

"I said most folks around here don't visit anymore," she replied readily, "you've got to pay more attention, Miss Sparkle."

"Oh, sorry," I said, my cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment, "I guess you're right."

I need to quit being so paranoid, I thought with a frown, Rosalyn isn't out to get me, she just wants someone to talk to.

"While I'm happy to give my own life story, I believe we got off-topic, Miss Sparkle," the old woman said with a chuckle, "if I remember correctly, you were telling me about where you came from?"

I cursed inwardly and decided to give her the same partial truth I gave the mail carrier back on the mountain.

"I'm not sure, to be honest," I answered truthfully, "I woke up badly injured on Demon's Peak and a hunter and his daughter took me in and nursed me back to health. I actually came down to the village from there."

My eyes widened as I realized my mistake too late.

"Ah, so Jacob took you in!" Rosalyn exclaimed, "good man, that Jacob. Haven't seen him in quite some time, but I had heard his granddaughter had moved in after what happened to her parents, the poor dear."

Please don't ask! Please don't—

"How is that old hunter, anyway?"

Dammit!

"Oh, well he's..." I faltered as I tried to come up with something to say. Suddenly I realized how stupid my plan was.

I can't tell anyone he died, I thought with rising panic, I already look suspicious and if I try to tell them he was killed by the Headhunter, they'll wonder how I escaped.

"He's..."

The townspeople are probably more likely to believe I'm the Headhunter than that I'm the one that killed it.

My eyes slowly widened and I started to hyperventilate once again.

"Miss Sparkle?" Rosalyn called out worriedly, "are you okay, dear?"

If they suspect me of being the Headhunter, who knows what they'll do to me!

"Stella, dear?" Rosalyn asked, poking her head out of the kitchen with a frown of concern, "is something wro—"

"Can I... use... your bathroom?" I gasped out, "I don't... feel so good..."

"Of, course, dearie," Rosalyn replied pointing to the rightmost door, "bathroom's just that way."

I gave a distracted nod of thanks and quickly made my way to the bathroom door, pulling it open and shutting it behind me.

I rested my back against the door, closed my eyes, and tried to take deep breaths.

What is wrong with me? I thought as I continued to calm myself down, I wasn't like this at Jack's cabin — not even when I faced the Headhunter!

It took far longer than before, but my heartbeat gradually began to slow to normal levels. I took one last deep breath before opening my eyes and staring into the mirror.

I was a mess.

My body was shaking, my hair was frayed and my face was covered by a light sheen of sweat. Stepping up to the sink, I turned the handle and placed my hands under the faucet, waiting for the water to heat up. Once it was warm enough, I lowered my head and splashed some water on my face a few times.

That done, I wiped my face with a nearby hand towel and looked back to the mirror. To my relief, my face looked a lot better, and to my confusion, my hair once again looked as though I had spent a good half hour combing it.

"Are you feeling any better, dear?" Rosalyn called from outside the door.

I shook my head.

"I'm fine now, Miss Withers," I called back, "thank you f..."

I trailed off and furrowed my brow in confusion.

Wait...

"It's not a problem, Miss Sparkle," Rosalyn replied with a chuckle, "and please, call me Rose — or Rosie, either one will do."

"Alright, thank you," I answered distractedly as I came to an odd realization.

I was going to thank her for letting me use the bathroom, but how did she know right where it was? I flicked my gaze the reflection of the bathroom door in the mirror, the amount of things she can still do while blind is getting ridiculous. Is she that attuned to her surroundings, or...

I sighed, straightened up, and turned to leave the bathroom.

There's something weird about Rosalyn, but I don't feel like it's the same thing as with the Headhunter.

No...

There's something else that I can't put my finger on.

I opened the door and stepped outside.

For now I guess I'll just have to keep an eye out for anything suspicious.

I was broken out of my thoughts by the sweet aroma of blueberries wafting from the kitchen and I suddenly realized just how hungry I had become.

The smell also seemed to be pushing away my nervousness — something I was grateful for. As I made my way back to my seat Rosalyn spoke up.

"You don't mind blueberries do you, dearie?" she asked.

"Not at all," I replied as I sat back down, "they smell amazing."

"I'm glad to hear it, Miss Sparkle," she said with a bit of relief, "frankly, I forgot to ask what you would've preferred beforehand."

"It's fine," I said waving away her concerns, "I don't get many opportunities to enjoy baked goods like this."

I frowned.

At least, I don't think I do...

"Well if that's the case, you're in for a treat," she said as she stepped back out of the kitchen holding two plates. I couldn't help but lean forward in my seat to get a better look.

Sure enough, on each plate was a fork and a large slice of crispy, light brown crumb cake with a creamy white filling dotted with the dark blue of the berries baked within.

Now I couldn't wait.

She slowly made her way to the table set the plates down, after which, she took a seat herself in the chair opposite mine.

"Go on, dear," she gestured to the plate in front of me, "dig in, you look like you haven't eaten in ages."

I didn't think I looked that hungry, but regardless, I took up the fork and used the side to cut off a small piece. Jabbing it with my fork, I brought it up to my mouth and—

"ROSIE, YOU IN THERE?"

I cried out in surprise and dropped my fork at the sudden banging coming from the front door. The silverware hit the edge of the table, bounced off, and fell to the floor. I frowned in disappointment and gave the door an irritated look as the banging continued.

"Is that Frank?" Rosalyn muttered as she slowly rose from her chair, "what business does he have this late at night?"

I watched with a nervous frown as she made her way to the door.

"COME ON, ROSE! TALK TO ME!"

"I'm coming you old fool! Just give me a minute!" Rosalyn yelled back. She pulled open the door to reveal an old and rather thick-bodied man with gray hair, a gray beard, and a crazed look on his wrinkled face. His look changed to one of relief as Rosalyn opened the door.

"Oh thank the Goddesses you're okay, Rosie," he said, grabbing ahold of Rosalyn's hand, "was afraid you'd gotten mixed up with some bad company."

"What in Tartarus are you on about, Frank?" Rosalyn snapped, yanking her hand out of the old man's grip, "I'm just fine!"

"Well now, I just wanted to make sure, Rosie," the man replied, raising his hands defensively, "some of the folk back in town mentioned they saw you walking home with a suspicious-looking sort — some kind of odd-looking woman."

I had cleaned off my fork and was digging into my cake when the man's words stopped me short.

Oh, this isn't good.

"It just so happens that I did, Frank," Rosalyn replied with a scowl, "invited the dear in for some tea and crumb cake."

"She's in your house?!" Frank cried, reeling back in shock, "Rosie you know why we don't just invite random strangers in — especially around nightfall!"

He peered Rosalyn's shoulder and into the house, spotting me sitting at the table. I waved and gave the man a nervous smile.

He glared at me in response.

"I don't like it, Rose," he muttered suspiciously, still looking in my direction, "I don't like it one bit. She's definitely not from around here, and she don't look like anyone who'd have any business in this town anyway."

Maybe I should just go... I thought with a sigh, if everyone around here is like him, then I don't think I'll be able to do what I came here for after all.

"Now, just you hold on a minute, Frank," Rosalyn responded, pushing the man away from the door, "this poor dear came to me looking for an inn to stay, but they all close so unreasonably early," she shook her head, "where else was she going to stay? Who else was gonna bother to take her in for the night, huh? You?"

"Well, I—"

"And besides," she continued, "the girl came into town to look for a job. She just wants to earn some pay for a hard day's work, is that so much to ask?"

"W-Well, no," Frank replied with an unsure frown, "but still, Rose—"

"Still nothing," Rosalyn growled, "there ain't nothing wrong with Miss Sparkle and you'd best tell the others the same!"

"Alright, alright, Rose," Frank said backing up from the door, "but just tell me this..."

He looked past Rosalyn and back to me with a wary scowl.

"Where did she come from?"

My heart skipped a beat.

I didn't like the way he had asked that, and I didn't think he was going to like the answer Rosalyn gave him either.

Rose turned back in my direction with a look of pity before returning her gaze to Frank.

"Miss Sparkle was telling me how she had gotten hurt up on Demon's Peak," she replied, "old Jacob and his granddaughter helped the poor dear out and now here she is."

The man's eyes widened briefly before he narrowed them warily.

"I don't like it, Rose," he repeated, before turning to me, "what were you doing up in the mountains, girl? No one goes up there except for Jack and Jessie."

"I... don't remember," I replied lamely, "I don't remember what happened to me before I woke up there."

He's never going to buy that.

Sure enough, Frank's suspicious frown didn't change in the slightest — if anything, it deepened.

The man growled deep in his throat and turned back to Rose.

"I'll leave it be, for now, Rose," he said with a grimace, "but if you lose your head tonight, I'm telling the rest of the town exactly who — or what — it was that did it."

"I can take care of myself, Frank," Rosalyn replied with a scoff, "don't you worry about me — or the girl for that matter."

He shook his head before suddenly speaking up once again.

"Oh, before I forget," he said, "that worthless son of yours passed out drunk at the tavern again. He's probably going to be staying there for the night."

"Of course he is," Rose muttered, "the lout..."

"Well I've said my piece, Rose," Frank said with a small nod, "so I'll be off," he turned and glowered at me one last time, "good luck finding any workaround here... girl."

He spat to the side and walked back out into the night.

Rosalyn sighed and shook her head before shutting the door.

"Sorry you had to see that, Miss Sparkle," she said as she made her way back to the table, "everyone in this town is so paranoid they've forgotten what hospitality is."

"It's... it's alright, Rose," I said with a nervous chuckle, "I should've realized this might've happened."

Rosalyn turned to face me as she sat down.

I couldn't quite place the look she gave me, but it sent a slight chill down my spine for some reason. The moment passed and she picked up her own fork as she spoke again.

"That old badger's most likely going to tell as much of the town as he can about you," she said, taking a bite out of her crumb cake, "knowing Frank, he'll probably cast you as some kind of demon out of Tartarus."

"Oh," I frowned and lowered my fork, "that's... not good."

Rose nodded with a sad, understanding smile, "It'll make getting a job a bit more difficult for you for sure, dearie."

"Is there anything I can do?" I asked hopefully, "some way I can convince the townsfolk that I'm honestly just... trying to..."

"...Trying to what, Miss Sparkle?"

I didn't answer.

I couldn't answer.

I couldn't move.

My body had completely locked up and all I could do was sit there staring straight ahead.

"Miss Sparkle?" Rose asked with a frown, "are you alright, dear?"

What...

I'm not sure what look I had on my face, but I was rapidly beginning to lose the feeling in my limbs. Rosalyn stood up and I tried to follow her movements, but I could no longer even move my eyes.

What's going on?

I inwardly began to panic.

Why can't I move?

I felt like something was constricting my chest and it became harder to breathe.

I don't—

"Oh, dear," I heard Rosalyn mutter from somewhere below me, "oh dear, oh dear..."

I could vaguely hear the sound of various things being shuffled around and my already rapid heartbeat began to pick up its pace.

Is... Rosalyn going through my bag? What...

"Didn't I give this to Todd to deliver?" I heard Rosalyn say, "now why in the world would you have this, Miss Sparkle?"

My eyes would've widened if they could.

The letter! She sent that?

Then another thought came to me.

She can read it?

"Well..." Rosalyn said, walking back into view and seating herself back at the table, "now I'm glad I took precautions — though I was starting to wonder if they would work."

I said nothing.

I could feel something... odd happening within me, though I couldn't tell what. There was also another thing I couldn't help but take notice of...

Rosalyn's eyes were no longer a milky white, but a brilliant cerulean — sharp, intelligent and dangerous in spite of her advanced age.

She looked at me silently for a moment before chuckling.

"Looking back on it, I suppose I didn't need to play the role of a blind old woman," she mused as she idly twirled the letter about in her fingers, "I was never very good at acting, but at the very least I was able to get this far."

What is she talking about? I thought, my mind a whirlwind of panic and confusion, who is this woman?

"What is your name?"

"Sparkle. That's all I can remember of my name."

I didn't say that.

"I see..." Rosalyn muttered, staring at the table in thought, "so there's a bit of truth to your claims. Might as well get this question out of the way then," she turned back to me, "are you the Headhunter?"

"No."

I didn't say that! What's going on?!

Rosalyn nodded as though she was expecting the answer.

"I figured as much," she replied, "your appearance is far too conspicuous. Still..." she trailed off and eyed me with a contemplative frown.

"Where did you come from?"

"I... I-I..."

I felt myself wince.

A spike of pain shot through my head and I cried out involuntarily.

"I... I c-came to... gah!"

I clutched my head in agony.

What's happening to me? I thought through a haze of pain, it feels like someone's shoving a nail through my head! What did she do to me?!

"Stop," Rosalyn spoke calmly, "there is no need to answer."

Just like that, the pain vanished and I was once again staring straight ahead — hands rested on the table.

"That was rather strange," Rosalyn commented with a frown, "you've either got the will of a mountain or there's something else at work here."

She placed the letter on the table before speaking again.

"Where did you get this letter?"

"A mail carrier gave it to me as I was traveling down the mountain."

"Todd," she grumbled, "that lousy son of a..." she shook her head and continued her questioning.

"Where's Jacob Ripp?"

"I buried his body by the cliffside near his cabin."

The responded sent a pang of sadness through my heart, but at the same time ebbed away some of the panic clouding my mind. I took that moment to try and piece together what I could of my situation.

"Jacob's... dead?" Rosalyn muttered in shock.

"Yes," I replied monotonously.

"What about Jessie?" she asked as she stood up — her gaze intensifying, "what happened to her?"

"Jessie is dead."

"Did you do it?" she growled, giving me an icy glare, "do you kill them?"

"No."

Her eyes widened and after a moment she slumped back in her seat.

"You didn't kill them..." she murmured as she stared at the table in disbelief.

As she spoke, I began to regain feeling in my limbs once more — albeit very gradually. I didn't move for fear of Rosalyn finding out.

I don't know what she did, I thought, but whatever it was it seems to be controlling my movements and what I say — making me tell the truth against my will.

My heartbeat began to slow down as I analyzed the situation.

This is actually good.

From what I can feel, it looks like whatever she did is wearing off, but she'll be more inclined to believe me if she thinks I'm still under the effects of whatever this is.

I sat there calmly as Rose tried to process what she had heard. Eventually, she looked back to me and I could see unshed tears shining in her eyes. I felt a wave of guilt and pity suddenly wash over me as she spoke her next words in a wavering voice.

"Do you know who killed Jacob and Jessie?"

"Yes."

"Who was it?" she cried as she shot up from her chair, "was it the Headhunter?"

"Yes."

"GODDESSES DAMN IT ALL TO TARTARUS!" she cried, slamming a bony fist down on the table, "the bastards were too late!" she shook her head before eyeing the letter on the table with a glare.

She grabbed the letter and ripped it to pieces — tossing the scraps aside. She turned her glare on me and opened her mouth to speak before she paused and gave me an odd look.

Her eyes widened as though she had just realized something important.

"Wait..." she whispered in awe, "you... you've seen it, haven't you? The Headhunter?"

"Yes."

Time for me to clear my name.

She took a step back and stared at me.

She just silently stared at me for a good few minutes before finally speaking again in a quiet voice.

"How did you escape?"

"I didn't."

She blinked in confusion before furrowing her brows.

"What do you mean 'you didn't'?" she asked in an impatient tone, "what happened?"

"I killed the Headhunter."

"Horseshit!"

I didn't say anything.

Inwardly I was completely taken aback by the outburst — though I guess it made sense given my admittedly outrageous claim. She glared at me for another moment before planting her hands on the table and frowning at it contemplatively.

"There's no way..." she muttered more to herself, "centuries... for centuries that thing has eluded capture," she looked up from the table and stared at me — her glare cooling into a disbelieving frown, "and you expect me to believe some... fledgling whelp mysteriously arrives and does it in, just like that?"

"Yes."

The effects from whatever she had done hadn't quite worn off yet so I was inclined to answer her obviously rhetorical question.

She snorted and walked away from the table and out of my view. The paralysis had worn off enough that I could follow Rosalyn with my eyes, but not much else, and unfortunately she had still moved to where I couldn't see her.

I heard the woman sigh and walk back into view, though she wasn't looking at me. Her attention was focused on the ground at something I couldn't see in my state and her face was set in a bemused frown. She bent down and grunted with effort as she lifted my sword off the ground and set it on the table.

"Well damn me to Tartarus," Rosalyn muttered as she inspected the sword, "someone's certainly stronger than they look," after another moment of observation she looked at me with a skeptical smirk, "suppose this is how you did it?"

"No."

The smirk fell from her face and she frowned in irritation.

"No?"

"Yes."

"And this" — she pointed to the sword lying on the table — "was the only weapon you had?"

"Technically no," I droned against my will, "there were several rifles within the cabin for me to use."

"And you used those instead?"

"No."

She gaped at me in disbelief for a moment before pinching her nose with a sigh.

"Alright, little lady," she replied as she pulled up a chair and sat down at the table across from me, "this I have to hear," she steepled her spindly fingers on the table and eyed me intensely, "how did a whelp like you manage to kill a centuries-old monster without a weapon?"

"Magic."

The old woman's expression didn't change as she stared at me. She sat there silently for a good minute before finally responding in a slow, measured tone.

"You killed the Headhunter... with Magic?" she said quietly, "...Magic?"

"Yes."

She opened her mouth, closed it, and got up from the table before walking out of view once more.

"Magic she says." I heard her murmur from somewhere behind me, "the poor dear's mad. I added enough imperium root to keep her talking for days, so she really does think she killed the Headhunter with Magic."

Added enough... wait... I frowned before my eyes widened, did she drug me?!

It was only after this revelation that I realized I had full control over my body once more. Thinking quickly I schooled my features into an impassive mask before she walked back into my field of view before sitting back down.

"Well it seems this was a pointless endeavor after all," Rosalyn concluded with a heavy sigh, "you've clearly gone soft in the head, dear. Maybe a side effect I hadn't foreseen, but in any case, I can't trust a word you've said."

No! I need her to trust me!

I decided to throw all caution to the wind.

"I can show you if you'd like."

The woman's eyes widened and she reeled back in surprise. I couldn't help but smile a little in satisfaction.

"You... y-you've been..." she stammered before shooting up from her chair.

With a natural sort of grace I wouldn't have expected from a woman her age, she spun away from the table and leaped back to the far side of the room — landing in what I could only assume was some sort of battle stance.

My jaw dropped in amazement and it took me a second to realize she had pulled several daggers from... somewhere and was holding one outstretched in one hand and three more between each finger in the other.

"How long?" she growled, giving me an icy glare.

I continued to stare at the old woman in shock from my seat at the table.

"How long have you been able to move?" Rosalyn clarified.

"Uh..."

"ANSWER THE QUESTION, GIRL!"

"S-Since about a minute ago, I swear!" I cried as I raised my hands up defensively, "please just... hang on a minute! Hear me out!"

Rosalyn narrowed her eyes dangerously but didn't make any sudden movements otherwise. After a tense moment of silence, she finally spoke — maintaining her stance all the while.

"Prove it then."

"I... what?" I asked with a bemused and worried frown.

"You said you can show me this Magic," Rosalyn explained, "so let's see it — and I will kill you if I see you're actions as hostile in any way, understand, girl?"

I swallowed and nodded rapidly.

Looking around the room for something nonthreatening, my eyes fell on the unfinished crumb cake in front of me. I looked from it to Rosalyn who stared at me expectantly.

I looked back down at the crumb cake and, with a small sigh, I raised a hand.

Well, if that'll prove I'm telling the truth, I thought, Hopefully this won't come back to bite me...

My hand lit up with the tell-tale magenta glow of Magic and the cake lifted off the table in the same magenta glow — plate and all. I looked back to Rosalyn to see her staring at me in bewilderment.

No, wait...

I furrowed my brow.

She's not staring at me, she's looking at...

I followed the old woman's gaze to the table and the sword lying atop it. The rune that had been glowing before was doing so again.

Rosalyn turned from the softly pulsating rune on the sword to me with a dumbstruck expression. I could see some of the tension drain out of her rigid stance from her apparent shock.

"How could I have missed that?" she muttered, "with something like that, it's no wonder you were able to kill something as dangerous as the Headhunter..."

I frowned in confusion and was about to ask what she was talking about when she snapped her hard gaze back to me and spoke first.

"Where did you get that sword, girl?" she demanded.

I set the plate back down and glanced at the sword in question before answering with a shake of my head and a half nervous, half sheepish smile.

"I honestly don't know where it came from," I answered truthfully, "all I know is that I was holding onto it when I first woke up, and that I can feel some kind of weird... connection to it that I can't really explain," I gave the sheathed blade a contemplative frown, "I'm pretty sure there's a connection between it and my Magic, but I don't know exactly what it is for sure..."

Maybe it lets me use Magic? I thought as I continued to stare at the sword, but I already knew Magic before I even had it...

I, of course, didn't tell her that I had apparently been using Magic since back before I had the thing — that would've thrown what little credibility I had out the window, I'm sure.

"Goddesses above," she whispered in apparent awe, "you really don't know what you have, do you?"

I turned back to her with an inquisitive look.

"What do you mean?" I asked, "do you know something about the sword?"

"Oh, I know a couple of things about that type of sword, dearie," Rosalyn replied as she walked over to the table, "and believe you me, girl, that is no ordinary sword."

I wanted to ask where she had put the daggers she no longer had in her hands, but I decided to write it off as unimportant for now. She seemed to have calmed down somewhat and was willing to talk, and that was good enough.

"So, you've seen this... type of sword before?" I asked curiously.

"Not in person, no," the old woman replied with a small shake of her head, "I've only read a bit about them."

She reached the table and gave me an odd look before tapping the sheath of the sword with a bony finger.

"There are many names for what this is, Miss Sparkle," she explained, "Arcane Sword, Ferrum Magia, Plane-touched Steel," she slipped a hand beneath the sword near the top and raised it slightly, "but the most common name in use today would be Spellblade."

"Spellblade..." I murmured as I looked over the sword, "and there's more than this one..."

Rosalyn nodded and rested the sword back on the table.

"There are indeed more than the one you have here, girl," she explained, "and not all of them are swords specifically — though I believed there were only five of these weapons in existence."

She paused for a moment in thought before speaking again.

"Each of the other five Spellblades either are or were wielded by warriors of great renown," she continued, "all of them legends in their own right."

"Can they use Magic like I can?" I asked before I could stop myself, "I mean, the name 'Spellblade' clearly implies that the weapon is Magical in some way — at least I assume so," I then had another thought that I decided to voice, "and if these Spellblades are so distinctive, shouldn't you have recognize mine right away?"

"I did have my suspicions," Rosalyn admitted, "but at the same time I didn't want to assume anything," she shook her head, "there are swordsmiths who are known to make replicas and original designs based on Spellblades, and I as I said, there were only five known to even exist," she raised an eyebrow at me, "what are the odds that some whelp would just waltz into town carrying a legendary weapon like that?"

I didn't reply.

I guess she has a point...

She stared at me with a contemplative frown before glancing back at the sword.

"I don't know how you got your hands on one of these, girl," she said as she turned back to me with a slight smile, "but I'll believe your outrageous story... at least for the time being."

"You will?" I asked in surprise, "I mean, I'm grateful that you believe me, don't get me wrong, but what made you change your mind?"

"Well, first off, I hadn't quite made up my mind yet, dear," she replied with a smirk, "and second, there are many stories surrounding these Spellblades — one of them being that they were blessed creations made by the Goddesses of the Sun and Moon themselves and handed down to would-be heroes and heroines."

"Oh, wow... that's," I blinked and turned back to the sword with a look of bewilderment, "huh..."

"I personally don't believe a word of any of that," Rosalyn continued with a huff, "but just based on the design of the thing and what you just did with my plate, I don't really have a choice but to believe you — at least where the Headhunter is concerned."

"Well, er..." I tried to give her a grateful smile, but I was sure it just came out looking awkward instead, "thanks... I guess."

How am I any kind of heroine? I thought incredulously, I still don't understand anything about what's going on, and based on what little I do remember, I'm not even from this world.

And really, why did I already have the sword before I came here?

None of this makes any sense!

I was beginning to feel another panic attack coming on, so I quickly changed the subject.

"A-Anyway," I began, "is there anything else you can tell me about the sword? Like I said before, I woke up not knowing anything about who or where I was, and I still feel kind of lost right now."

"I'm afraid I don't know much more than that the blades grant their users powerful abilities, like your 'Magic'," Rosalyn replied as she took a seat at the table, "now sit, there are still some other things for us to discuss at the moment."

She motioned for me to sit down and I took the same seat as before. Once I was settled, she folded her hands across the table and looked at me with something approaching an apologetic frown.

"First off, I'd like to apologize about all that nasty business earlier, what with me controlling you and all," she shook head and gave a small smile, "you really are a sweet girl, but you're also an unknown — and frankly suspicious — element," she chuckled wryly, "you certainly didn't do yourself any favors by walking through town carrying Jacob's bag and rifle."

I blinked and glanced at the open bag on the floor before looking back to Rosalyn as I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly.

"Right," I replied awkwardly, "I... guess I didn't think about that..."

That was an incredibly stupid thing for me to overlook thinking back on it...

"No, you didn't," Rosalyn agreed with a nod, "anyone who knew Jacob personally knows you'd have to kill the man before he'd let you walk off with one of his rifles."

I winced and lowered my gaze at the old woman's statement.

"And... you knew... Jack — er... Jacob personally?" I asked quietly.

Rosalyn nodded with a grimace.

"I did," she replied, "he and I were... old friends back when he was in the King's Army."

"Ah..."

I'm actually not all that surprised, surprisingly.

An awkward silence fell upon the both of us for a few moments before I spoke up again.

"It's... fine I guess — about the drugged tea I mean," I said, opting to change the subject, "it worked in my favor in the end. I did have an odd feeling there was something off about you though," I admitted, "that was why I didn't want to come with you initially."

"Really?" the old woman replied with a raised brow, "then that just means you've got good instincts, Miss Sparkle. You were certainly right to be suspicious of me, and if you're smart, you'll trust those instincts. If something seems wrong, assume it's wrong until you can prove otherwise without a shadow of a doubt.

"The fact that you were carrying one of Jacob's bags and rifles is what tipped me off that something was going on, after all," she explained, "there was also the matter of your reaction in town along with your strange appearance."

I nodded in response, taking her words to heart.

She's right, I thought with a frown, If I'm going to survive in this place I need to start being more careful about what I do and who I talk to. And speaking of...

"Just what did you do to me anyway?" I asked, more out curiosity than accusation, "I heard you say something about... what was it? Imperium root?"

"Ah, yes," Rose said with another wry chuckle, "imperium root — or more specifically, the solution extracted from the root of the imperium plant. Extremely hard to come by, but very worth it if you're trying to get information."

"Yeah, no kidding..." I muttered, "I'm not an expert on poisons or drugs, but I'm assuming you put it in something I consumed — the tea most likely."

"Right you are, dear," Rosalyn said with a smirk, "completely odorless and tasteless. Although..." she frowned and eyed me warily, "the effects of the imperium root extract takes seconds to work on the hardiest of individuals, yet it took considerably longer to put you under — and even when you did go under, you had the mental fortitude to resist one of my questions."

She leaned back and folded her arms, giving me another odd look.

"You certainly are a strange one, Miss Sparkle," she commented, "I don't suppose you'd tell me where you came from now that we're on... relatively friendly terms again?"

"You... wouldn't believe me if I told you..." I muttered, looking away uncomfortably, "believe me, it's really out there."

"Girl, I'm old," Rosalyn replied, resting an arm on the table, "I've seen some very strange and very fantastical things in my day. I'm willing to bet this can't be any stranger than say... an entire metropolis built atop a massive subterranean lake? Or how about a city suspended over a crater twelve miles wide by giant chains?"

I blinked.

"Um, wow..." I replied, somewhat stunned, "that definitely sounds... out there," I shook my head and got back on track, "but I'm pretty sure where I come from is stranger than even that."

"Try me, girl," Rosalyn responded, "even if it's a lie, you've got me curious."

"Well, alright," I replied with a sigh, "if you absolutely have to know, I'm not even..."

"...Not even what, dear?"

I had opened my mouth, but no words came out.

It was like something had stolen them away.

I frowned and tried again.

"I'm actually not..."

Nothing.

Not a word.

"Is this some kind of joke, girl?" Rosalyn said with an impatient frown, "because if it is, I don't find it funny."

"Nono, it's... I can't..." I tried again and again, but the words wouldn't come, "I can't tell you."

Rosalyn glared at me for a moment before letting out a sigh.

"Well, I guess that's that then," she said with leaning back once more, "if you don't want to tell me—"

"No, that's just it!" I cried in bewilderment, "it's not that I don't want to tell you — I literally can't tell you! The words won't come out of my mouth!"

Rosalyn raised an eyebrow as she observed my reaction.

"Now that's queer," she responded after a moment. "if that's true, then I suppose that would explain why you couldn't answer my question earlier. Maybe it's more of this Magic at work."

"I... I don't know," I said as I tried to calm myself down, "maybe?"

She hummed in thought before leaning forward and resting her arms on the table as she spoke.

"Well, I'll leave it be for now," the old woman said after a moment, "why don't you tell me more about what happened back at the cabin instead."

I gave her a nod and a small smile.

It wasn't that I was eager to relive the events of that night, but I had to admit that it felt good to tell someone about what happened. I trusted Rosalyn about as much as she did me — that is to say somewhat, but not a lot — but still, I felt like I'd go crazy if I had to keep the horrible events of last night all to myself.

So I told Rosalyn everything that had occurred at Jack's cabin, from the time I woke up in Jack's bed, to my encounter with the Headhunter and all the way to when I had buried Jack and left the mountain.

During my tale, Rosalyn had offered me more tea, promising it contained no imperium root, and I naturally refused — though I did partake in more of the crumb cake.

For all the things that had happened to me, the actual conversation was rather on the short side, lasting only about half an hour or so before I reached the end of the story. As I finished my tale, Rosalyn sat there, mulling over everything she had heard.

I decided not to interrupt her musings, figuring she'd have more questions once she had thought everything over. I myself sat staring at my now empty plate with a contemplative frown.

I had the strangest feeling I had forgotten something in my story, but I couldn't put my finger on what it could've been. It was as though the memory slipped out of my grasp just as I was about to recall it.

Before I could think on it any further, Rosalyn finally spoke.

"So Jessie ended up dying in that forest after all..." she muttered, a look of immense sadness showing on her wrinkled old face, "the poor child didn't deserve such a fate — none of them did. Not Jacob, not his son, his daughter, or their child."

I said nothing, only giving a simple nod in response. The old woman was quiet for a moment more before her face hardened and she shook her head in disgust.

"At the very least we may not have to worry about that abomination anymore," her scowl became a genuinely grateful smile as she turned to face me, "if that thing really is dead, then you've done the world a great service, girl."

She paused for a moment as though she was trying to remember something.

"Oh, and don't worry about the grave marker, dear," she said with a warm smile, "I'll make sure both Jacob and Jessie get proper headstones tomorrow."

"Thank you," I replied with a grateful smile of my own, "that... that means a lot."

"Of course," the old woman responded, "he may have been a handful as my subordinate back in the Army, but he was a good man that looked out for his family."

I nodded in agreement before looking away with an uncertain frown.

I wasn't sure how I felt about being praised for murder — even if I did agree that the Headhunter needed to die. I didn't have too much time to ruminate on the matter as Rosalyn's next words caught my attention.

"I'll need to send a message to the Order to have someone confirm the corpse," Rosalyn was saying, "but if it turns out the Headhunter is dead, you can be sure that the town will know you're the one that killed it," she leaned back in her chair and smirked, "I guarantee you won't have to worry about fitting in here, that's for sure."

My first instinct was to object to the statement, but then I stopped and thought about it.

The Headhunter did need to be stopped and being praised would make it easier to find some work, but wait, I frowned as another thought hit me, hang on a minute...

"What did you mean by the 'Order'?" I asked curiously, "what Order?"

"The Order of Nox Atra," Rosalyn clarified, "an independent organization of knights dedicated to eradicating threats like the Headhunter."

"Huh," I replied thoughtfully, "and you're part of this Order of Nox Atra?"

"Oh no, dear," Rosalyn replied with a small chuckle, "I'm much too old to do the kinds of things they do."

Could've fooled me...

"No, I'm not a member of the Order," Rosalyn continued, "but I believe in their cause and do what I can to help them from time to time."

"I see," I nodded once in understanding and a realization dawned on me, "those people that come to visit you from out of town, are they—"

"From the Order?" Rosalyn finished with a knowing smirk, "indeed they are, dearie," she frowned, "it was one of their members that gave me the letter to deliver to Jacob — an old friend of his if I remember correctly."

"Right," I said with a slow nod, "now that I think back on it with what I know now, the letter did imply that Jack — Jacob was part of this Order of Nox Atra."

"So you did end up reading the letter after all, did you?"

"I... well..." I faltered, rubbing an arm and looking away guiltily, "I couldn't exactly deliver it... so..."

Rosalyn gave another small chuckle and raised a hand placatively.

"Relax, girl it's fine," she replied, "in fact, you getting a hold of his letter might be a blessing in disguise."

"What do you mean?" I asked in confusion, "how is me getting the letter possibly be a good thing?"

The old woman said nothing for a few moments as she tapped a finger on the table and look off in a seemingly random direction. I just sat there wondering what she could be thinking about regarding me and the letter.

Eventually, she nodded to herself as though she had come to a decision and got up from the table. I watched as she made her way to what I presumed was the bedroom and stepped inside before closing the door.

I frowned and turned to stare at the table in front of me.

What is this all about? I thought to myself as I waited for Rosalyn to return, she said that receiving the letter was a blessing in disguise... but why?

I ran a number of possible reasons through my head, but I couldn't think of anything concrete or plausible. I sat there in contemplative silence for another few minutes or so before the bedroom door opened and Rosalyn stepped back out.

"I'd like you to do me a favor if it's not too much trouble, Miss Sparkle," the old woman announced as she walked back over to the table, "but before I tell you what it is..."

She sat back down and it was only then that I noticed that she was holding another sealed envelope. She set the envelope down on the table and looked at me with a solemn yet still somewhat friendly expression.

"...let me tell you a bit more about the Order of Nox Atra."

"Alright," I replied with an eager smile, "do you mind if I document the conversation?"

"I... what?" Rosalyn asked, blinking in confusion, "I don't see why not, but—"

"Great!"

I turned and raised a glowing hand towards my bag. Rosalyn pushed back from the table in surprise as a fountain pen and several sheets of paper flew out of the bag and over to the table.

I ignored her and started using my Magic to scribble down everything we had discussed so far. It felt as though some kind of switch had been flipped and all my worries were drowned out by the excitement of learning something new and interesting.

It felt great.

"I should've done this earlier but I didn't think..." I muttered to myself as I continued my frantic scribbling, "just gimme a minute to catch up..."

After roughly five minutes or so, I dotted the end of the last sentence with a Magic flourish.

"Aaaand... done!" I announced happily, "sorry about that, Rose. You can go ahead and..."

I looked up from my notes to see the old woman staring at me with a mix of awe and wariness. I slowly lowered the pen and my notes down to the table and gave Rosalyn a sheepish grin.

"Um..." I coughed and rubbed an arm awkwardly, "sorry about that. I don't know what happened, I just... kinda got carried away all of a sudden."

"For someone who just suddenly stumbled upon this 'Magic'," the woman said somewhat suspiciously, "you sure do know what you're doing with it, girl."

"Well, I..." I swallowed and looked away, "I practiced with it a bit before I left the cabin and a little more on my way down the mountain."

Not a complete lie, but not exactly the truth either.

"...I see," Rosalyn muttered, "you said you had regained some of your memories when you got attacked by the Headhunter, right?"

"Y... yes?" I replied worriedly, "I remembered a bit about where I came from, but I can't tell you about it for some reason."

"Right," Rosalyn agreed with a nod, "I'm thinking that your 'Magic' might have something to do with that, and from what I've just seen, I'm also thinking you know more about your own 'Magic' than you're letting on."

I hesitated for a moment before letting out a sigh.

Why am I still trying to hide things from her? I thought, I've more or less already told her everything I know, and she already knows I can use Magic.

I turned back to Rosalyn and nodded.

"I did indeed practice my Magic back on the mountain," I admitted, "but I... I... oh come on!"

I grunted and rubbed my face in frustration.

"What?" Rosalyn asked with a furrowed brow, "don't tell me you can't—"

I shook my head and sighed again.

"I'm sorry Rosalyn," I said, looking back to the old woman with an apologetic frown, "I really want to tell you all about it, but I can't. Every time I try, it's like I temporarily lose my ability to speak."

Rosalyn gave a dissatisfied grunt of her own and tapped the table with a finger.

"Well, I suppose there's nothing for it," she said after a moment, "we were getting off-topic anyway."

I gave her one last apologetic look before raising my pen and papers once more. She eyed the floating writing utensils before shaking her head and clearing her throat.

"So... the Order," she began, "I won't bore you with the entire history, but the Order of Nox Atra was founded sometime... oh I'd say sometime about six hundred fifty... maybe seven hundred years ago, by a man named Alrik.

"No one knows much about him — at least not anymore — but legend says that before he made the Order, he traveled across the world, slaying all manner of monsters and demons.

"Over time, word of his deeds had spread across every land he visited and he eventually came to be known as Alrik the Hunter — an uninspired name, but a well-deserved one nonetheless."

I stopped writing and looked back to Rosalyn — a hunch forming in my mind.

"Did this... Alrik, happen to use a Spellblade?" I asked curiously.

Rosalyn smiled and gave a nod of approval.

"You catch on quick, dear," she replied, "as far as anyone knows, he was the first one to wield a Spellblade, and he used it to great effect."

I gave a nod of my own and returned my attention to my notes.

"So as I was saying," Rosalyn continued, "Alrik's reputation grew and grew and before anyone knew it, people had begun following in his footsteps. Many were fools, getting themselves killed as they tried to make a name for themselves.

"Still, others had some success and a few even gained some renown — though none had ever shown as brightly as Alrik. As the years went by Alrik grew older and weaker, but with lagging strength came growing wisdom. Alrik knew he could no longer fight as he once did and so formed a plan.

"Rather than do any more fighting, he called out to all would-be monster hunters to come together and form one unified strength. It was said to take several years, but eventually, the Order of Nox Atra was formed, named so for the all-consuming blackness of the Moon Goddess' night sky."

I stopped writing again.

I only just now realized this, but these Goddesses everyone kept talking about were starting to sound an awful lot like...

I shook my head and continued documenting.

There was something to be investigated there, but it wasn't terribly pressing at the moment and I didn't want to miss out on what Rosalyn was telling me.

"No matter your cause or beliefs, aim to destroy that which would destroy all."

I raised an eyebrow at the old woman.

"The Order's creed, or motto, or whatever you'd like to call it," she clarified, "these were the words spoken by Alrik upon the Order's official founding — words the Order still lives by to this day."

"So if I'm understanding this right," I surmised, "this Order of Nox Atra is a group that's dedicated hundreds of years to hunting down monsters?"

"In a nutshell, yes," Rosalyn replied, "they have branches all over the world and are called upon constantly to deal with all manner of threats — from the mightiest beasts of Hestenia to the direst demons of Tartarus."

"And I don't suppose they do this all for free?" I asked pointedly.

"Of course they don't," Rosalyn replied with a scoff, "people are risking their lives trying to kill these monsters, Miss Sparkle. Not only that, but the Order needs funds to provide weapons, armor, and other supplies to the members that can't afford their own."

"Right, I suppose that makes sense," I conceded with a sheepish grin.

Rosalyn nodded and continued her explanation.

"Jacob never told me too much about their hierarchy, but from what he did say, the fastest way to move up in the Order is to bag yourself an especially tough monster — something even the senior members have trouble with."

I looked up from my notes to see the old woman giving me a significant look. I raised a questioning eyebrow, but she just chuckled and moved on.

"The Order of Nox Atra is a massive organization, but there are some that only see them as nothing more than crooked mercenaries and bounty hunters," she shook her head in disappointment, "I will admit, I've seen some nasty characters from the Order, but for the most part, the men and women of the Order are upstanding and understanding folk.

"How would you go about joining the Order?" I asked curiously.

My question was mostly for posterity's sake rather than an actual desire to join, but when I raised my head to face Rosalyn, I could see an eager glint in her eyes.

"I'm glad you asked, dear," she answered somewhat enthusiastically, "there's a recruiting center in Ruvenbor. All you'd have to do is sign up and you'll be given a series of written and practical tests to gauge your strength, skill, and wit. If you pass that, the Order moves you up to—"

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute!" I cried, taken aback by the woman's sudden enthusiasm, "I am absolutely not looking to join this Order!" I let out a calming breath and spoke again, "I'm just asking for the sake of my own documentation."

Now I think I see what she might've meant when she said receiving the letter was a blessing, I thought with a grimace, she wanted me to join this Order of Nox Atra.

"I see," Rosalyn replied looking somewhat dejected, "I'm sorry, dear, I was hoping... well nevermind what I was hoping."

"No, I'm the one that's sorry, Rose," I responded with a sad smile, "it sounds like it'd be quite the honor to join the Order, but I'm just not cut out for it," I slowly shook my head, "it was pure luck that allowed me to kill the Headhunter. I have no real skill in combat myself, I mean—" I gave the sword in front of me a pointed look "—I don't even know how to use this thing."

"Then why on Hestenia were you granted such a gift?" Rosalyn mused aloud, "from what I was told, anyone who wielded a Spellblade knew how to use it."

"I don't know," I said, raising my arms in exasperation, "like I said, I just... woke up with it in my hands. I apparently have some kind of connection to it, but aside from maybe allowing me to cast Magic, I don't know what it could be."

Rosalyn sat back in her chair and stared at the ceiling contemplatively.

"Ah, well," she muttered after a moment, "more's the pity, I suppose," she lowered her head back down to look at me, "still, I've told you all I can tell you about the Order. If you want to know more, you'll have to ask one of their members directly."

I nodded and set all the papers down on the table to let the ink dry for a bit.

"Well, thanks for telling me all of this, Rose," I said with a grateful smile, "and again, I'm sorry I can't join the Order like you wanted."

"That's alright, Miss Sparkle," Rosalyn replied with a wry chuckle, "I was asking too much too fast anyhow. Before I forget though," she took the letter and tapped it against the table as she spoke, "if you ever do decide you're interested in joining the Order, they could probably tell you more about that Spellblade of yours."

I mulled that over for a moment before replying with a satisfied nod.

"I'll keep that in mind, Rose."

Rosalyn smiled at me before tossing the letter in my direction.

"Now, about that favor," she began as I picked up the letter, "I know you were planning on staying here in Thatch to look for work, but I don't think it would be a good idea — at least, not now. It'll take some time for the Order to get everything cleared up with the Headhunter and until then, you're going to have problems with the locals here."

I frowned and looked back at the old woman.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right, but..." I looked back down at the letter forlornly, "what else am I supposed I do? Where do I even go from here?"

"Well for starters," Rosalyn replied, rising from her seat and tapping the envelope, "you could deliver this letter to the Order's Ruvenbor Branch Office for me."

I turned my attention back to Rosalyn with a look of surprise.

"You want me to go to Ruvenbor?" I asked incredulously, "but... but what about—"

"Don't worry about your appearance, dear," Rosalyn called out as she stepped back into her room, "the people of Ruvenbor aren't nearly as paranoid as the folk in this town. There's already so many strange folks in that city you won't even warrant a passing glance."

I looked from the doorway she had just entered, to the letter in my hand.

First that mailman back on the mountain and now this, I thought with an irritated snort What am I, some sort of errand girl?

I sighed and floated the letter into my bag on the floor.

"Well, it's not like I have anything else to do or anywhere else to be at the moment..." I muttered despondently.

"What was that, dear?" Rosalyn asked, stepping out of the room with a small pouch, "didn't quite catch that."

"I'll deliver the letter for you, Rose," I said a bit louder, "after all, I don't know what else to do. I'm more or less completely lost in a... in a place I don't really understand."

I slumped over the table with a heavy sigh and flinched back when a pouch dropped down in front of me. From the impact it made as it hit the table, it sounded like there were coins in the bag.

"You know what'll help you?" Rosalyn asked with a soft smile.

"What?" I replied half-heartedly.

"Friends."

I raised my head to look at the old woman and got a poke to the forehead with one of her bony fingers for my trouble.

"You need to find some trustworthy people to help you — or that you could help along the way. If you find yourself without a purpose in life, then make one. Look around, talk to people, pay attention to what goes on in the world."

She leaned closer and gave me a small wink as she pushed the pouch over to me.

"Who knows, girl," she continued, "you just might find some folk who'll watch your back no matter how bad things get for you. You just might find out what you're meant to do in this dangerous world we call Hestenia. Just keep your eyes, ears, and mind open."

I grabbed the pouch and pulled it open.

Inside I saw several copper bits, silver bits, and even a few gold bits here and there. I looked back to Rosalyn and went to protest, but she forestalled me with a withered hand and a solemn look.

"Don't worry about the money, dear," she said with a single shake of her head, "I've got plenty more where that came from, trust me."

"I... what about your son?" I asked without thinking, "doesn't he—"

"Girl, that son of mine can make his own damn money working in town," Rosalyn said with a huff, "you need this a lot more than he does."

I stared at the open pouch in my hands for a moment before another thought struck me.

"Does your son know about... y'know... you being..."

"What, part of the King's Army?" she finished, "Nah, the only person around here that knew about my past was Jacob and he's... well..." she grimaced and looked down at the table, "he ain't gonna be telling anybody anytime soon."

She shook her head and looked back at me.

"No, everyone around here thinks I'm just a withered old rose that's gone blind in her old age."

I chuckled slightly at the joke, but then frowned in bemusement.

"Why are you pretending to be blind anyway?" I asked in confusion, "I mean, I could understand you trying to fool me, but why the rest of the townspeople?"

"Oh who knows, girl," Rosalyn answered with a secret smile, "maybe I've grown tired of doing things on my own. Maybe I just like the extra attention and kindness I get for being a helpless old bat."

I could tell she wasn't being truthful — given how she reacted when I tried to help her earlier — but I couldn't help but laugh anyway. After a second Rosalyn gave a small chuckle of her own and for a few moments, we both shared a laugh.

Eventually, I stopped laughing and looked back to the pouch with an uncertain frown.

"So... just how many bits are in here?" I asked tentatively.

"Fifty copper, twenty-five silver, and seven gold in all," Rosalyn replied, "it's not a terribly high amount of bits, but it'll get you some food and a place to stay for a while — though I suggest saving a bit for your trip."

I gave the bag one last look before placing it in one of the pockets inside my tunic and turning to Rosalyn with a grateful smile.

"Thank you for all your help, Rose," I said earnestly, "you've given me... a lot to think about tonight."

"Think nothing of it, dear," Rosalyn replied with a dismissive wave, "I know we got off on the wrong foot and I do apologize about that, but I want you to know I'm rooting for you, Miss Sparkle," she gave me a reassuring nod, "I may not know who you are or where you came from, but after sitting down to talk to you, I feel I can trust you a bit more."

She stood from the table once more and paused.

"Oh, before I forget..." she rose the rest of the way and hurried into the back room. She returned a moment later with what looked like a large rolled-up scroll in her hand, "...You're going to need this if you plan on traveling anywhere, girl."

I took the scroll an unfurled it to reveal a large map of Vale. I briefly scanned it, committing the various landmarks, towns, and cities to memory before nodding in satisfaction. I rolled the scroll back up and dropped it into the bag along with all my notes on the Order of Nox Atra before latching the whole thing shut.

I then levitated the bag, the rifle, and my sword over to a nearby wall, before turning back to Rosalyn.

"I really can't thank you enough, for every—"

"You've already thanked me far too many times, girl," Rosalyn chided, before heading back to her room, "now, I believe that's everything for the moment, unless you had any more questions for me?"

I thought for a moment.

"Oh, yeah," I said after a minute, "as you probably already noticed, I've been having... panic attacks lately."

"Oh, yes, I've noticed alright," Rosalyn replied as she crossed her arms, "I had meant to ask about that, actually."

"Well, I'm not too sure why it's been happening," I answered worriedly, "it didn't start until I got into town. It wasn't even this bad when I first woke up."

Rosalyn hummed to herself thoughtfully.

"Maybe it's some kind of... delayed reaction from everything you've experienced up until now," she guessed, "I'd imagine meeting the Headhunter face-to-face and witnessing the atrocities it committed firsthand would've been traumatizing, to say the least."

"Yeah... you're right about that..." I replied quietly, before shaking my head with a sigh, "maybe it is everything that's happened so far, I don't know. I just hope it doesn't last."

"I'm sure you'll get over it eventually, dear," Rosalyn said with an understanding smile, "for now, all you can do is move on with your life and hope that things will get better down the road."

"Right," I said with a nod, "so... you're going to bed then?"

"I am, and I'll probably be gone when you wake up," Rosalyn answered with a disgruntled frown, "I've got to get up early to go pick up that no good son of mine from the tavern before he causes any more trouble," her smile returned a moment later, "there's already a blanket on the couch and since my son isn't coming back tonight, you're free to use it."

I eyed the couch and blanket warily and Rosalyn chuckled.

"Don't worry, dear, I already washed the blanket and cleaned the couch.

I breathed a small sigh of relief and nodded my thanks to the old woman.

"Well then... I guess this is goodnight," I said rather awkwardly, "talking to you was... interesting."

Rosalyn let out a bark of laughter and shook her head.

"I can certainly say the same, Miss Sparkle," she replied with an amused grin, "oh, and be sure to use your alias when you're traveling. I honestly don't know how much help it'll be, but it's better than just having a last name."

"I will," I replied, "thanks again, Rose, and goodnight."

"Goodnight, dear," she responded before giving me a hard glare, "and remember, if you try to run off into the night with anything of mine, I'll know, and I will find you."

With that, her kind smile returned and she hit a switch on the wall that dimmed the amber glow of the various lamps around the room and walked into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

I shuddered and walked over to the couch. As uncomfortable as it was, I didn't bother to remove my tunic or makeshift leggings. It was only then that I realized to my dismay, that I had neglected to pack any extra clothes and Rosalyn hadn't provided me any either.

I just sighed in resignation and removed my boots and gloves before flopping down onto the couch and adjusting myself so that I was on my back. I stared at the ceiling without really seeing it — my mind too preoccupied with everything that had happened throughout the night.

There were still a lot of things that didn't make any sense, and despite Rosalyn's rather unexpected generosity and reassurances, I still felt completely lost and alone. She said to find someone trustworthy and make friends, but how?

Where did I start?

Should I approach someone? or should I wait for someone to talk to me?

I felt an odd sort of familiarity in my current dilemma that I couldn't quite place.

Regardless of my purpose — or lack thereof — there were still several mysteries I needed to solve. As I turned my tired gaze to the sword leaning against the wall, I thought again about where it had even come from.

I was now certain I wasn't any kind of warrior back in my... past life, and the more I thought about it, the surer I was that the sword didn't even exist back where I came from.

So how did I get it?

How did I manage to get my hands on some legendary weapon from this world before I even arrived here? For that matter, why was any of this even happening to me?

I still had a fractured, blurry feeling of some vague and horrible thing befalling me right before I woke up in that white void, but there was nothing more than that.

I was beginning to think it was for the best that I traveled to Ruvenbor — if for no other reason than to find out more about what I had gotten myself into. Rosalyn was right, I certainly wasn't going to find out anything here with how wary the townsfolk—

"Good evening, Stella Sparkle."

My thoughts shattered to pieces as I whipped my head around to face the living room window.

Glowing yellow orbs stared back at me in the darkness of the night. The formless shape stood out only slightly against the pale light of the moon and remained as unmoving as ever.

It was only then that I remembered what I had left out of the story I told Rosalyn.

"Owlowiscious... right?" I asked once my heart had stopped beating a mile a minute.

"Ah, so you remembered my name," the creature said with its odd laughter, "how thoughtful of you, Miss Sparkle."

"What..." I closed my mouth and cast a glance at the bedroom door before turning back to Owlowiscious, "what do you want from me?" I hissed quietly, "why do you keep following me everywhere?"

"Because you interest me."

"...What?" I asked incredulously, "that's it?"

"Well, no," Owlowiscious conceded, "but that's the only answer you're getting out of me... for now," it tilted it's head slightly as it stared at me, "there was something I wanted to let you know before you left to go seek your destiny."

I had a bad feeling about what Owlowiscious was going to say, but once again, my curiosity won out in the end.

"And just what was it you wanted to tell me?" I asked warily.

"It's about those sudden panic attacks of yours."

My eyes widened and I stood up from the couch.

"You know something about the panic attacks?" I asked urgently, "what's causing them? Was it because of the Headhunter?"

"Indeed it was, Miss Sparkle," it said with another chuckle, "but not in the way you think."

"What do you mean?"

Owlowiscious continued to chuckle in amusement.

"Owlowiscious, what are you talking about?" I pressed, growing more frustrated by the thing's mocking laughter, "just tell me, please!"

"No one knows this, because they never live long enough to experience it, but the Headhunter is actually a very poisonous creature."

I gaped at the formless shape in the window.

He laughed and continued his explanation.

"Oh, yes, girl, I'm implying exactly what you think I'm implying," it's head tilted from one side to the other as it spoke, "you've been poisoned by the Headhunter, and I imagine it's having a rather... unique effect on you — and before you ask, yes I know the symptoms and no I'm not going to tell you what they are."

I fell limply back onto the couch and stared at my shaking hands.

"W-What did it do to me?" I muttered in horror, my heartbeat quickening again, "am... am I going to die?"

Owlowiscious was silent for another moment, as though contemplating whether or not to answer.

"If you're worried about losing your life to the poison, don't be," the creature replied slowly, "you will not die."

"Then what's going to—"

"Ah, now that would be telling, Stella," Owlowiscious replied mockingly, "that's all I'm telling you for now. It seems you've caught the old woman's attention."

"Wait—"

I heard the bedroom door creak open and snapped my panicked gaze towards the sound. Rosalyn stepped partway out of the room and hit the light switch.

"Are you... alright, dear?" Rosalyn asked with a concerned frown, "it sounded like you were having a conversation with yourself just now."

I turned back to the window the see that creature was gone.

Of course it was.

I willed myself to calm down before facing Rosalyn with a sheepish grin that came out looking more nervous than anything.

"I'm... I'm fine, Rose," I replied weakly, "I... was just thinking out loud is all. Lots of... stuff to process, y'know?"

Rosalyn gave me an unreadable expression before slowly nodding and hitting the lights once more.

"If you say so, girl," she finally responded, "just keep it down, alright?"

I nodded.

"I will, Rose," I said with an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry."

Rosalyn nodded and moved back into the bedroom before closing the door.

Once she was gone, I fell back onto the couch and curled up on my side. shivering.

What's going on? I thought as I panicked silently, what did he mean? What did the Headhunter do to me?

I continued to fret over the new revelation as well as everything else for a good while longer before sleep finally claimed me.

~ Believe in your heart that you're meant to live a life full of passion, purpose, Magic, and miracles. ~

Episode III – The Guild ~ Part I

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I woke up in a cold sweat.

I had no idea what I had been dreaming about, but whatever it was, it hadn't been pleasant. With a groan, I sat up on the couch and looked around with bleary eyes. It took me a moment to remember where I was and what I had been doing last night, but it all came back a few seconds later.

I sighed and rubbed a hand down my face before standing up. I was about to make my way to the bathroom when I happened to glance at the table and notice something that wasn't there last night.

I had put everything I got from Rosalyn in my bag save for the rifle and sword, both of which were placed alongside the bag. With all that done, the table was barren except for a couple of papers and a small roll of parchment. I couldn't see what was written on them from where I was, so with a wave of my hand, I floated them over to where I was standing.

Snatching them out of my own magenta aura, I quickly looked over the first paper, which seemed to be a note.

Have already left for the day, feel free to make yourself something from the icebox.

I noticed you don't seem to have anymore clothing than what your wearing so I've obtained some more travel wear for you as a thank you for what you've done for all of us. It's all there in your bag.

I've also left a small list of things you'll need for the trip to Ruvenbor that you can get in town. If you're worried about how the townsfolk will act, don't be. I've let everyone know you stayed over for the night and that I still have my head, so while you might get a few suspicious looks, no one should bother you.

Don't worry about Jacob and Jessie's grave markers either, I've already taken care of it.

One last thing I've included is another map. The map itself is of Ruvenbor and no newcomer to the city should ever be without one, lest you accidentally wander into the more dangerous or closed off parts of the city.

Also, if you don't know yet, learn how to write, preferably before you reach the city. It would be best not to use your magic out in the open as it will most likely draw unwanted attention to yourself, and I doubt you'd want that right now.

That should be all, and remember...

Don't steal any of my things.

I will know, and you will suffer for it.

~Rosalyn

Gee, thanks for the heartfelt message at the end there, Rose...

In all seriousness, I really was grateful for everything that Rosalyn had done for me, despite her initial suspicions and impromptu interrogation. I folded up the note and went to float it back over to the table.

After a moment's thought, I instead walked over and set it back down with my own hands instead.

Rosalyn's right. I shouldn't get into the habit of using my magic for everything, at least not yet.

With that thought in mind, I went over to my bag and pulled it open. I took out a fountain pen and a few blank pieces of paper and set those on the table before walking into the kitchen.

I chose to make myself a small breakfast of coleslaw and a roast beef sandwich—not exactly breakfast food, but I didn't really care all that much. As I sat down at the table with my food, I got to work learning how to write, deciding it would be better to start sooner rather than later.

I sat there trying to use both hands for what felt like hours before I finally started to make some headway. Thankfully I was able to pick up handwriting fairly quickly, finding it a lot easier than learning how to shoot a gun.

I had long since finished breakfast and had gone through several pieces of paper, but eventually I reached a level of handwriting skill I was satisfied with for both hands. It was by no means elegant, but it wasn't just chicken scratch either, and that was good enough for me for the moment.

I sighed and put down the almost empty fountain pen before turning to look out one of the windows. The sun had still been low in the sky when I first woke up, but now it had risen a decent amount and its rays shone brightly through the glass and into the cottage.

I frowned in annoyance.

It had taken me a lot longer than I would've like to learn how to write, but it couldn't be helped. Better to get it out of the way than have to worry about any awkward situations later.

I heaved another sigh and stood up from the table. Curious, I rummaged around in my bag and found the clothes Rosalyn had mentioned before. I pulled them out of the bag and looked them over.

She had gotten me what looked like a few simple dark colored blouses and long tartan skirts, another tunic similar to the one I was wearing currently—though this one was a lighter tan color, some undergarments, and some more leggings. I also found two day dresses—one white and one the same indigo color as my hair.

Just how much did all this cost?!

All of the clothing looked new and expensive, and had Rosalyn still been here, I most likely would've protested to her just giving me all of this, but seeing as how she wasn't here and how she had already spent the money, I couldn't very well decline her—in my opinion—way too generous gift of thanks.

I shook my head and put everything back but the tunic, a pair of black leggings, and some undergarments. Taking those with me, I headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

To my surprise and slight disturbance, everything fit perfectly.

When was she able to get my measurements?

I opted not to think too hard on the matter as I walked back out of the bathroom. I tossed my patchwork leggings in a trash bin, but that left me with a leather tunic I had no idea what to do with.

In the end I just threw it back into the bag before pulling out the large pouch of bits and the envelope I was supposed to deliver. I put those, along with the note and list the old woman had left me, into the inner pockets of my new tunic.

With all that done, I saw no more reason to linger in the cottage anymore, so I strapped on my sword and the rifle. Hefting the bag onto one shoulder, I took one last look around and gave a silent nod of satisfaction.

I headed to the front door and pulled it open, stepping out into the bright morning just outside the cottage. I raised a hand to cover my eyes, trying to blink away the spots that danced in my vision from the sudden shift in light.

As it turned out, the town wasn't as far away from the isolated cottage as it had seemed when I first arrived last night. On top of that—aside from a few minor twists and turns here and there—the path back was fairly straight forward.

I turned and looked back to the cottage one last time, reflecting on everything that had happened within. I remembered the strange panic attacks I'd had last night, but it also felt like I was forgetting something important about them, and the thought frustrated me.

It wasn't the first time I'd felt like I'd forgotten something important, and somehow I doubted it'd be the last time. In any case, I didn't feel any kind of unwarranted nervousness at the moment, so I put the thought out of my mind for now. I didn't want to get sucked into any more problems than necessary.

I'm going to have enough to worry about after I leave town as it is...

Instead I turned my musing towards Rosalyn. Thinking back on her and what she was like as a person, an odd feeling of familiarity welled up within me, though I couldn't place a finger on what was so familiar about her.

Maybe she reminds me of someone I knew back before I lost my memory?

I kept my contemplative gaze on the cottage for another few moments before turning back around and heading down the stone pathway. As I walked, I took the opportunity to pull out the list Rosalyn had left for me and looked it over.

"Let's see..." I muttered, scanning the paper, "apparently I'm gonna need... an officially signed permit to enter Ruvenbor as a visitor, a few days worth of food and drink, she wants me to set some bits aside for something called a stagecoach... and she's recommending I stop by the Unyielding Blade to hire a mercenary for protection?"

I raised an eyebrow at the last two. I skimmed the list and saw that Rose had provided a description of a stagecoach and it's purpose near the bottom, which I was grateful for, but she gave no hint as to what the 'Unyielding Blade' was.

So a stagecoach will get me to Ruvenbor faster than walking, which is fine, I thought skeptically, but what's this 'Unyielding Blade'? And if I'm gonna be traveling by stagecoach, why do I need someone to protect me?

I had read that many of the roads between towns and cities were dangerous, so I guess hiring a mercenary to protect you on your travels would make sense.

I could still be attacked in the stagecoach, and even if I had my magic, I was supposed to be keeping it a secret. I knew how to use a rifle, but my skill was still unreliable and I knew next to nothing about how to wield the sword currently strapped to my back.

Given these reasons, it made sense to hire someone with more traveling and battle experience than I had. Still, the thought of hiring someone to keep me safe felt strange and made me a bit uncomfortable for some reason.

As I made a mental note to ask around about the Unyielding Blade, another thought hit me.

Just how far is Ruvenbor from here exactly?

Putting the list back into my tunic, I instead pulled the map of Vale out of my bag and looked it over. I couldn't tell the distance just from looking at the map, but I could at least see that the trip would more or less be a straight shot from Thatch.

There didn't seem to be many obstacles like forests, caves, or mountains. Thankfully Thatch sat at the end of the mountainous region I was in now according to what I was seeing, and like I had seen back on Demon's Peak, a lot of the land beyond the farms was all grassy valleys and hills.

There were some forests and smaller mountains here and there along the path, but they were few and, for the most part, well out of the way of where I'd need to go.

I'd have to ask someone how far it'd be to Ruvenbor exactly, but again, judging by what I'd seen from the mountain, it looked like it might be at least a day's travel by foot, if not longer.

Satisfied for the moment, I put the map away and this time pulled out my bag of bits. Opening the bag, I began counting them out, committing to memory just how much I had total.

Adding what I had obtained from Jack's house to what Rosalyn had given me, I had a total of eight gold bits, thirty silver bits, and eighty copper bits to work with.

I felt like this wasn't enough to cover everything I might need, but I had no point of reference for how much an average... well... anything would cost here. I hadn't yet made any kind of purchase, but it looked like that would soon change.

After a few more minutes of walking, I finally arrived back in Thatch, and the difference from what I had seen last night made me rather nervous—though not nearly as much as it would've last night. The town was bustling with the day-to-day activity of the townsfolk.

People had long since set up shop, horse drawn carriages and wagons holding various supplies moved about, kids ran and played in the streets, men laughed heartily and women gossiped as they walked up and down the sides of the road.

It was all so much to take in, and for a moment I stood there transfixed by the sheer energy the small town exuded.

That is, until I was shoved to the side by a large man carrying a burlap sack.

"Oi, stop standin' about in the middle of the road, girl!" the man growled, not even looking in my direction as he walked away, "some of us have got places to be!"

"Oh, s-sorry... about that," I called out with a raised hand, but the man had already moved on and I slowly lowered my hand again, "well, alright then..."

I looked around once more and shifted the bag on my shoulder before moving to the side of the street. Once I was out of the way, I pulled out the list again and checked the first item.

I should probably get the permit first...

I looked up from the list and scanned the buildings briefly before realizing Rosalyn had neglected to include a location to go along with the name of the place I was supposed to go, in fact, a map of the town itself would've been nice now that I thought about it.

I had a feeling I'd be asking quite a few things from the townsfolk before I left.

Casting a searching gaze over the crowd of people traveling the paved roads, I tried to find the friendliest looking person I could. Eventually my eyes settled on a tall thin woman in a white and yellow day dress. She was alone and heading in my direction, so I swallowed my nervousness and went for it.

"Um... e-excuse me, ma'am?"

The woman stopped and turned to me with an expectant raise of her brow.

"I'm terribly sorry to bother you," I continued quickly, "but... would you happen to know where Thatch's Town Hall is? I need to get a permit to enter Ruvenbor and—"

"Keep going south and you should eventually see a tall white domed building to your left," the woman replied curtly before continuing on her way, "good day to you, Miss."

"Oh, um... thank you!" I called back, "and good day to you too... I guess..."

Just like with the man from earlier, the woman didn't respond or even look back. The exchange left me oddly put out, but I shook my head, refusing to dwell on it as I wouldn't be much longer here any way.

Following the woman's directions, I made my way further south while keeping an eye out for the domed building. A few streets later and I finally saw the top of the domed structure peeking out over some of the smaller buildings in front of it.

I breathed a small sigh of relief and walked across the street. I was pleasantly surprised to see that there was a stone pathway leading directly to the large white structure.

After only a few minutes of walking I was standing before the large, brown wooden double doors that made up the entrance.

I moved until I was standing a little ways off to the side, watching as several townsfolk stepped in and out of Town Hall. I watched them go about their business for a few minutes as I bit my lip nervously.

In all honestly, I had no idea how I was supposed to go about this. I just assumed I'd have to answer some questions and maybe fill out a few forms before getting my permit... but would it be that easy?

I snorted at the thought, already knowing full well that this was in no way going to go to plan. Still, I wasn't going to make any kind of progress standing around, so I took a deep, calming breath and briskly walked over to, and pushed open, the double doors.

I honestly didn't know what I was expecting going in, but I somehow got the impression that a normal town hall was supposed to be... bigger.

Sure, it looked large on the outside, but in reality, there wasn't much to look at here. I was in what looked like a small rectangular room that seemed to be almost completely made of off-white marble.

On the right side of the room was a single door, and two more behind and on either side of the large front desk a few dozen feet from the entrance. I assumed the 'hall' part of the town hall sat behind the doors in the back, but I had no idea what lay behind the door on the right.

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

I snapped my gaze towards the polite feminine voice that had just spoken and saw a thin and kindly looking middle aged woman with greying hair tied in a bun watching me from behind the front desk.

She wasn't the only one either. Several of the people in the room were eyeing me with various looks ranging from annoyance to curiosity to suspicion to outright disapproval.

I had to fight back the sudden urge to make a hasty retreat right back out the front doors.

"Y-Yes?" I replied, feeling my face grow hot from the attention, "is something wrong?"

"My name is Lynda, if you have an appointment you can sign in over here," she continued in a friendly voice, "if you have any questions or requests, you may speak with Samson here."

She gestured towards a slightly rotund and rather bored looking sandy haired man sitting next to her. The man, Samson, made no move to introduce himself or acknowledge that I was there.

He simply continued to speak to the person currently standing before him in a dull practiced sort of tone as he leaned to one side, one hand propping his head up and the other scribbling something down on a piece of paper in front of him.

Lynda spoke again, dragging my attention away from the man.

"You can either wait in line, or have a seat at one of the benches against the wall," she nodded to something behind me and I turned to see several benches lined up against the wall on either side of the front entrance.

"Oh, alright," I replied with an awkward sort of smile, "thanks then."

"And please, miss," she added, almost as an afterthought, "if you would leave your weapons here with us?"

"My..." I blinked and glanced back at the rifle and sword strapped to my back before giving the lady a sheepish smile, "right, sorry, just... gimme a minute..."

I took a moment to unstrap my weapons and placed them on the counter, my face going slightly red as I desperately tried to ignore the few odd looks I was getting.

I should've known it wouldn't have been appropriate to just walk into a government building bearing arms like that, but truth be told, I had kind of forgotten they were even there.

Honestly I was surprised I wasn't getting more looks than I was at the moment.

They must be used to mercenaries and the like passing through here on some kind of business or another.

In any case, I wasn't about to complain. Instead I watched as the woman behind the counter hefted the rifle and sword—albeit with some difficulty due to the combined weight—and placed them beneath the counter.

"Thank you," Lynda said somewhat breathlessly, "we'll be sure to return them to you once you've completed your business here."

I said nothing in response, simply nodding with an understanding smile. Seeing the long line in front of Samson, I sighed and headed towards the benches near the entrance.

I sat down with a small groan and brushed a gloved hand through my hair. Looking around, I could see I was still getting the odd look or two, but when I met anyone's eye, they turned away and went back to whatever they were doing.

I let out another longer sigh and settled in for a long wait, trying to ignore the crowd around me. In the meantime I thought back to my list of things to get.

If I have enough, I should probably get a bigger bag for all the supplies. I don't know if I can carry much more than what I have on me now with this one.

I hefted the bag I had slightly, feeling its weight. The weight itself was no problem, but I didn't know how much more I would need to carry, and I didn't know if the bag I had now could hold it all.

I didn't know how much a stagecoach cost, but I assumed it wasn't cheap, given the possible danger of traversing the lands beyond the cities and towns.

With nothing else to do, I once again pulled out the bit pouch Rose gave me and recounted the bits inside, quietly groaning at the thought of all the expenses I had to take care of. What worried me the most was that once these bits were gone, I didn't know how I'd be able to get more.

I could try to find some work in Ruvenbor, but it wasn't a sure thing, and there was still a lot I didn't know about how this world worked or what its rules were.

And then there was the traveler's permit.

What was I going to do in the very likely event they denied me one?

I wanted to believe there'd be another way around the issue, but I had no idea what it would've possibly been. Not helping matters was the thought of actually traveling with a mercenary... a stranger.

Sure, Jack and the thing that I thought was Jessie were both strangers when I first met them, but back then, I wasn't really in a position to decide whether or not I wanted to interact with them.

This was different.

This time I'd be actively seeking out a companion to come with me on my travels, and as much as I hated the thought of being all alone in this unfamiliar world, I was still nervous and wary of others—something I don't think I could be blamed for given what had happened to me so far.

That thought made me remember Rosalyn's words about how I should find others I could rely on... friends I could count on to have my back, and she was right.

I wouldn't get anywhere by isolating myself from others, but that didn't mean I had to be so trusting either. I had learned that lesson the hard way, both from 'Jessie' and Rose.

She may have been willing to help me in the end, and for that I was extremely grateful... but she had still lied to me, poisoned me, forced me into an interrogation, and flat out threatened to kill me.

It may have been a good idea to find friends, or at least friendly strangers who were willing to help me along the way, but I needed to choose my friends and companions carefully.

I frowned slightly and returned my bit pouch to the pocket in my tunic before looking around. I don't know how long I'd been sitting there, but the crowd seemed to have thinned out a bit.

I waited for another half hour or so, cursing the fact that I had neglected to get any books to pass the time, before I finally heard my name called out by the bored looking man behind the counter.

Episode III – The Guild ~ Part II

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Already antsy from waiting for so long, I practically leapt out of my seat and hurried over to the counter. The sandy blond man raised an eyebrow at me and I smiled nervously.

After a moment he shrugged and sat up before addressing me in a tired drawl.

"Let me guess," he sighed before I could say anything, "traveler's permit for Ruvenbor?"

My eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"Uh... y-yeah," I stammered, "I need a permit, but how did you—"

"You aren't the only one looking for passage into the city, lady—not by a long shot," Samson interjected with a yawn, "word's going around that Grynda's gonna be making some kind of grand move against Ruvenbor soon, and more'n a few folks here have family there."

"Oh... I see," I replied quietly, "I guess the people here are worried their loved ones are going to get caught up in whatever might happen."

"That's about the gist of it," the man replied, sliding a few documents and a pen across the desk and towards me, "I wouldn't get my hopes up for getting a permit though. Most people are getting denied left and right."

I frowned and said nothing in response as I picked up the pen and began filling out the necessary forms. Truth be told, I had seen more than a few citizens either yelling at the two clerks behind the desk or storming out of the building altogether about something.

I tried to ignore it, but there had certainly been an air of frustration hanging about that I hadn't noticed until I actually sat back and got a chance to just observe everybody here.

And then there was me.

I knew I'd run into some trouble where this was concerned, but even just looking at these forms, I knew I couldn't answer or fill out most of what was on these documents.

I didn't even know enough about this world to fake the information.

Of course they were going to want all the information they could possibly get on who I was and what my intentions were. The country was at war, and trust was probably at an all time low while security was no doubt as high as it could possibly be in general.

I expected to have some trouble here, but, it looked like making my way through this process was impossible from the start. There was no information concerning me in whatever records the town kept, and I really had no information to give.

Coming here had been completely pointless, and the weight of that realization didn't hit me until now. Losing what little hope I had, I just filled out what I could and passed the sheets back to Samson. He looked them over briefly before raising an incredulous eyebrow.

I just gave him a resigned frown in response and he sighed after a moment. He delicately placed the documents down on the desk and looked me in the eye with a surprisingly sympathetic expression.

"Look, you seem like a nice girl," he smirked, "and if I'm not being too forward, you're pretty easy on the eyes despite the weird purple hair and peepers."

"Technically, my hair color is indigo," I mumbled, blushing slightly and looking away at the complement, "well, for the most part anyway."

Samson didn't seem to notice or care as he continued.

"In light of that, I'm gonna be straight with you," he leaned forward, steepling his fingers over the desk and giving me a friendly, if pitying smile, "normally we take this info and have some of the folks in the back investigate it, but what you gave me here, the only place these—" he tapped the documents in front of him "—are going, are straight into the trashbin."

I winced and hung my head, nodding in understanding.

"I know," I said with a quiet sigh, "I... I guess I didn't really think this through. My memory's kind of shot, and I don't have very much information to give you... sorry."

Did Rosalyn think this through? She must've known how this would go...

"Ah, playing the old amnesia card, eh?" the man replied with a small chuckle, "well I'm sorry to say it, dollface, but that isn't gonna cut it—not with all of Vale on edge like it is right now."

At my dejected look, the man groaned and rubbed a temple, muttering something about making beautiful women cry, something I chose to ignore.

"Alright, alright, look," he glanced around conspiratorially before leaning in close. Curious, I did the same and he spoke again, this time in a whisper barely loud enough for me to hear, "if you need a permit that badly, then look for a man named Qaedis the Seeker. He'll get you what you want... if you can pay him."

I furrowed my brow, the name instantly putting me on edge for some reason. I had no idea who this Qaedis was, but something about the way the clerk mentioned the man raised a few red flags. Still, with how very few options I had, it was something to consider, no matter how much my gut told me not to.

"Who is he?" I whispered back, "and where do I find him?"

"A collector of things people need, or so I've been told," the man replied quickly, sounding as though he wanted to get the conversation over with, "folks say he lives in some woods a few miles outside of town."

That's too vague, I need more than that!

"Can you tell me where these woods are?" I asked, furrowing my brow, "or at least where I can find some more information?"

"No, I can't," he hissed, "I'm risking my job just telling you this much, and I'm already on thin ice as it is."

He leaned back and cleared his throat before giving me a practiced, cordial smile that mirrored the female clerk from earlier. When he spoke again, it was in a pleasant, polite, and professional tone of dismissal.

"Now then, ma'am," he said, gesturing to the woman next to him, "if you have no other business in Town Hall, then I suggest making way for the others behind you. Lynda here will see to the return of your belongings."

His tone and actions were a far cry from how he had been acting before, and it gave me the impression that the man wanted me gone as soon as possible for whatever reason. I opened my mouth to protest, wanting more information about Qaedis, but then I saw the quietly pleading look in his eyes and relented with a half groan, half sigh.

I turned to the other clerk, not bothering to ask about the documents I had filled out and ignoring them all together. The woman, who had apparently heard the man, was already pulling my sword and rifle from under the desk.

With a grimace, she hefted the items onto the desk and I quickly snatched them up. I thanked both clerks before turning around and heading back outside the building. I took a moment to strap my weapons back on before giving a dejected huff and making my way down the steps and away from Town Hall. Once I was a good distance away I took one last look at the building, a small grimace adorning my face.

Now I was wondering just what else I could've possibly overlooked due to my circumstances. I wondered what else I'd have problems with. I wasn't too worried about getting supplies such as food and water, but that still left the issue of the stagecoach and hiring a bodyguard.

I was starting to reconsider hiring someone to protect me, but then I remembered that I knew nothing of swordsmanship, and I was still only decent with a rifle. On top of that, I was trying not to attract any unwanted attention with my magic, and having a bodyguard around might cause some issues.

Issues that I most certainly didn't need right now.

I shook my head, deciding to save the problem for later. My mind instead wandered to the 'collector' the blond clerk had told me about. Whoever he was, he definitely sounded like a shady character, and I'd run into enough of those for a lifetime.

Much to my own dismay, I also knew it was foolish to think I'd be able to avoid all of the dangerous situations this life would throw at me, and I'd never get anywhere if I tried to do that regardless.

If I wanted to find my past and a way back home, I'd need to take risks, and unfortunately for me, this place was full of them. After a moment's thought, I rummaged around in my bag and once again, pulled out the map of Vale I'd been given.

Unfurling it, I scanned the map and found the town of Thatch. From there I traced a line to the nearby woods the man had talked about, and found it quick enough. The woods themselves weren't marked by any kind of name, and like the man said, they were small, but they were also the only natural landmark nearby.

Satisfied for now, I rolled up the scroll and replaced it in the bag before continuing on.

As I walked back into the city proper, I couldn't help but once more lament the fact that I had no actual map of town, and though it didn't look all that large from a distance, Thatch wasn't exactly a small hamlet. Thankfully I was able to find the marketplace with little difficulty, getting directions from a kindly mother escorting her child to the same place.

Even had I not asked for any directions, I still would've been able to tell that I had reached the market. Lining the streets of the marketplace were several buildings sporting signs of various shapes and sizes, advertising all manner of goods. There were all sorts of stores and open air stalls selling food, drink, accessories, various trinkets, and even a few weapon and armor shops here and there.

The smell of freshly baked goods drowned out many of the other smells and made my stomach growl, but I abstained from going into the few bakeries I passed—though it was a challenge in and of itself.

I opted to look for more practical foods instead—food that would last me at least a week if need be, and while I did relent eventually to get some freshly baked bread, I mainly stuck to the deli and many of the stalls outside, as those seemed to hold a lot of what I needed for the road.

As I had expected, I ran out of room in my bag for the supplies, and seeing that I wasn't running out of funds just yet, I opted to get a bigger travel bag. It was a bit more than I had expected it to be, but the bag I procured was worth in my opinion—its size about half as big as I was tall, and with several different pockets and pouches to boot.

I moved all my items to the larger bag, including the smaller bag, and hefted it over my shoulder, the increased weight from my purchases still not being an issue much to my relief and slight bafflement.

Just how strong am I exactly?

What with my sword, rifle, full waterskin and flask on my belt, and travel bag full of the food and various other supplies, I felt as though I should've been over encumbered, but I wasn't—far from it.

I still felt light as a feather.

Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration; the weight was there, but I could barely feel it. It didn't get in the way, and the issues I was having came more from the awkward way I'd been having to carry everything.

With the new bag, it wasn't an issue, and I was able to finish my supply shopping with no trouble. In fact, everything had gone fairly well so far, much to my surprise. I got the expected odd looks, but it seemed like no one was willing to turn away a paying customer, and I made sure to be as pleasant as I could for good measure.

Once I felt I had enough supplies, I moved on to the next errand on the list... bodyguard recruitment. I asked a rather bulky looking heavily bearded old man selling arms and armor where I could find the Unyielding Blade, and thankfully he was more than happy to oblige.

As it turned out, the Unyielding Blade was actually a sort of adventurer's guild. It was a place where you could hire all sorts of people for different dangerous services, similar to the Order of Nox Atra.

Both the guild and the Order had branches all over the world, but unlike the Order, the Unyielding Blade wasn't regulated by a strict set of rules and standards, though they did have their own regulations that needed to be followed. Almost anyone could become a member regardless of skill or status, and on top of that, they also provided several more services than just hunting monsters.

Mercenaries to fill in spaces for armies and protection purposes, bounty hunters to take down criminals, scavengers and collectors to find certain items for a fee, and even assassins and hitmen in certain circles.

Another thing that set them apart were the fees for services rendered. The Order issue the charges for their service, whereas anyone who posted a request set what they would pay for that service, and if it was acceptable, then a person or a group from the guild would take the job.

If there was ever a place to find and hire a bodyguard, then the Unyielding Blade was it. After learning all I needed to know about the guild, I thanked the man and headed for where it was.

It turned out the marketplace led directly into the artisan's district of town where the smiths, tailors, jewelers, and various other skilled craftsmen and women worked, but that wasn't where I was headed next. The guild building was situated just past the artisan's district in a slightly remote part of town, and I was told the place was so big I couldn't miss it.

I passed out of the artisan's district, satisfied and thankful to have finally gotten all of my shopping done, but nervous about my next errand. I took to counting out how many bits I had left after my purchases, and found I still had five gold, eleven silver, and two copper bits left.

This time around I'd made sure to ask how much it would've been for a coach to get me to Ruvenbor, and was happy to hear a one way trip would only come out to about three silver bits.

I didn't know if that was a lot, but it was still well within my budget so I didn't worry about it too much. Satisfied with how things had gone so far, I put away my remaining bits and picked up my pace.

"Beg pardon, ma'am, can ya spare a minute?"

I nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sudden sound of the deep, gravelly voiced drawl, and with my heart pounding, I whipped around to face a tall, broad shouldered man. He wasn't as tall or broad as Jack had been and he didn't look as old, but he was close.

The somewhat tan skinned man had a shoulder length curtain of messy black hair beneath a dirty, beat up stetson the same dark brown as the tattered duster he wore. His face was clean shaven, yet rugged, his eyebrows thick and heavy, and he had a long, thin scar across one of his cheeks.

I found that his gritty appearance was strangely offset by his bright green eyes. They were far from kind, but they weren't all that hard either. If I had to describe it, I would say that his gaze was measured... patient. I could tell just from a glance that the man had seen and experienced a lot, but the pleasant smile was throwing me off a bit.

The duster he wore reached down to about knee length and the tight sleeves were rolled up to reveal lightly armored black gloves. I could also see a thin, black chestplate poking out from under the duster.

There were a few belts wrapped around the man's midsection and below were thick wool trousers the same color as his duster and stetson, most of the trousers below the knee were tucked behind lightly armored black boots to match the gloves he wore.

There were also a few wicked looking knives strapped across the front of his chestplate and I could just make out both the beginnings of what looked like a coiled leather whip tied to one hip, and what I recognized as a pistol—a revolver if I wasn't mistaken—holstered on the other.

Like me, the man also had a sword strapped to his back, but I couldn't see what type of blade it was with him facing towards me, though it was clearly meant to be held with two hands judging by the length of the hilt I could see from behind his shoulder.

As I got a better look at him, my heartbeat slowed back to normal levels and I suddenly realized I was staring. I blinked before shaking my head rapidly—an embarrassed blush slightly marking my cheeks.

"I-I'm sorry," I finally replied, giving the man an awkward smile, "was there something you needed?"

"Sorry ta startle ya like that, didn't mean nothin' by it," the man replied with a small chuckle. His expression turned slightly more serious and he eyed me for a moment before speaking again, "now, correct me if I'm wrong, but ya'll wouldn't happen ta be Stella Sparkle, would ya?"

I blinked and furrowed my brow, slightly wary that the stranger knew my name. Then I thought about it and realized I had only given my surname to three people, and my fake name to one person.

If he knows who I am, that could only mean...

"Yeah, that's me," I admitted slowly, my eyes narrowing slightly, "and if you know that, I'm guessing you must be one of Rosalyn's 'friends' that come to visit from time to time?"

The man's eyes widened briefly before he laughed aloud at my reaction. His laughter died down a moment later and he shook his head before giving me an amused smile.

"Yer a sharp one, Miss Sparkle, I'll give ya that much," he replied with a lopsided smile. He tipped his hat and spoke again, his tone friendly and disarming, "name's Darmund Belmondt, an ah suppose ya could call Rose a friend o' mine."

"Where is she?" I asked, suddenly curious, "did she send you here to meet me or something?"

"Rose has her own things ta take care of," Darmund replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, "ah was actually on mah way here from Ruvenbor ta see her when she met me outside o' town an' told me ta find ya, said ya might need some help gettin' around."

At that, I glanced at the bag slung across my shoulder and looked back to Darmund with a half smile.

"Well, I kind of already got most of my errands taken care of," I said sheepishly, "all I really need to take care of now is finding someone to guard me on the way to Ruvenbor and then hire a stagecoach for the trip."

"Ah see," Darmund muttered, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He turned towards the path I'd been traveling and smiled, "an' ah take it yer headed down to the guild ta hire a merc fer the job?"

"Apparently," I replied with a sigh, "though to be honest, I'd rather not have to go through with it. I get why Rose recommended it, but still..."

"Ah getcha," Darmund replied, nodding in understanding, "Rose told me a bit about yer situation—not everythin', mind, but enough ta know yer a bit of a fish outta water 'round these parts. It's only natural that you'd have some... reservations 'bout travelin' with strangers."

He walked forward and past me, allowing me to see the blade slung across his back. The sword was bare, the long silver blade glinting brightly in the late morning sun.

The blade itself was simple in design, yet thick, and almost as long as he was tall. It was held in place by what looked like two large latches made of some sort of hardened leather material.

I was only given a brief moment to see the sword as Darmund turned back around partway to look back at me, jerking his thumb in the direction of a large multi-story building in the distance.

"Tell ya what, Miss Sparkle," the man began, "since ah'm supposed ta be helpin' ya out an' all, why don't we head on over to the guild together an' ah'll show ya around? Getcha acclimated to the atmosphere?"

I considered Darmund's offer for a moment, looking him in the eye and trying to gauge his intentions. His offer seemed genuine, but I was still hesitant to agree.

He simply stood there, patiently waiting for my answer, and in the end I decided to go with him. I figured that if he tried anything, I could always incapacitate him using my magic, and I still had my sword and rifle. I also had to remember that I was apparently a lot stronger than I probably looked.

"...Alright, why not?" I finally answered with a small, somewhat indulgent smile, "it beats going in there unprepared, I guess."

"Well alright then," Darmund replied with another small chuckle, "let's get goin', shall we?"

Episode III – The Guild ~ Part III

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Together we walked the rest of the way to the guild hall. It wasn't a very long walk, and I could see the building coming up fast, exactly as the arms and armor merchant had described.

The several structures around town had thinned out, making the guild hall easy to spot in the distance. Even from where I was, I could see that the building was made of grey brick and—at its most basic—cubic in design.

It had a smaller second and third story above, making it look like some kind of grey multi-layered square shaped cake with multiple arched windows lining its walls.

I couldn't make out much more than that from where I was, so I instead focused on Darmund himself. It wasn't a very long walk to the guild, but it looked like there may have been enough time to get to know the man I was following.

To my dismay, and slight annoyance, he beat me to the punch. Just as I was about to speak, he turned his head slightly to look back at me—a small, intrigued smile on his face.

"So, Rose told me somethin' interestin', Miss Sparkle," he began, a hint of curiosity coloring his tone, "the way she tells it, ya done some mighty fine work for this town—work that would net ya a high rankin' position in... certain circles."

"Certain... wait," I furrowed my brow in thought before blinking in surprised realization, "are you from the Order of Nox Atra?"

"Just so, little lady," Darmund replied, barking out a laugh, "I'm sure Rose told ya a bit about us, but apparently nothin' about me."

"And what about you?" I pressed, seeing an opportunity to learn more, "from what I've heard, the Unyielding Blade and the Order of Nox Atra didn't get along well, and you're just going to walk in there?"

"First off, that ain't necessarily true," Darmund began, raising a finger without looking back, "most folk in both the Order an' the guild tend ta keep to their own affairs, sure, but we ain't on bad terms, not really."

He raised another finger.

"Second, ah'm a bit of a... special case," he lowered his fingers and chuckled, "ya see, ah was a member o' the Unyielding Blade long before ah joined the Order, and while that in an' of itself ain't too uncommon, ah was a bit of a big deal back in the day."

"So... what?" I asked, intrigued, "were you some sort of famous bounty hunter or mercenary or something?"

"Ya'll could say ah was a hunter o' sorts—still am, really," he replied mysteriously, "point is, ah made a name fer mahself in the Order—earned a high rank pretty quick.

"Now what ya have to understand about the Order, is that as ya rise through the ranks, ya get more leeway to do certain things outside its influence, an' ah just so happened ta miss the good old days ah spent in the guild, see?"

"So you do work for both the guild and the Order," I surmised, nodding my head. I gave him a bemused look a moment later, "and they don't have rules against that sort of thing?"

"Nah, not really," Darmund answered with a small shrug, "while mah duty first an' foremost lies with the Order, they don't stop me from takin' guild jobs on the side so long as it don't interfere with those duties. The guild don't give a damn either way."

"I see..." I muttered, "that's... interesting."

I had to admit, the prospect of working for the Unyielding Blade seemed a bit more appealing than working for the Order. It looked like the guild offered their members more freedom to do what they wanted, and you didn't have to take on certain jobs if you didn't want to.

I also guessed one could make some good money if they were skilled enough to get the riskier, higher paying jobs done.

Maybe if I learned how to fight—got some more experience under my belt, then I just might be able to make a decent living...

The prospect of taking on dangerous jobs and fighting for my life on a regular basis—when I really thought about it—didn't seem all that appealing, but there was one thing in particular that made me consider it all the same.

The more I thought about it, the more I began to realize I was more or less built for that kind of life.

I woke up with a powerful weapon in my hands, I was abnormally strong despite my less-than-muscular frame, I had magic that I suspected hadn't even been fully tapped into yet by far, and most importantly... I could regenerate damage to my body.

Sure it was possibly only to a certain extent, but still, that alone gave me an advantage like no other, to say nothing of everything else I had going for me.

"Enough about mah borin' life," Darmund suddenly exclaimed, snapping me out of my inner musings, "why don'tcha tell me a bit about yerself, Miss Sparkle?"

"Me?" I asked, taken aback for some reason, "I... I don't know. Didn't you hear about me from Rose?"

"Ah did," Darmund conceded with a small nod, "but she didn't really tell me much. Mostly that ya ended up doin' what most folks thought impossible, an' that ya had a nasty case of amnesia," he shrugged and gave me a small, helpless smile, "Didn't tell me much other than that. Didn't even tell me how ya did what ya did."

He stared at me for a moment, and it took me a second to realize that he wasn't actually staring at me, but past me.

He was eyeing the sword on my own back.

"Speakin' o' which," he began in a quieter voice laced with curiosity and slight disbelief, "that blade ya got there... that ain't the real deal, is it? A Spellblade, I mean."

"No," I quickly replied without thought, "w-well, I don't know for sure actually. but I don't think so. Rose told me there were only five in existence, so I doubt it's real."

"Hmm," the large man replied, giving me a long, considering look, "well, ah suppose it ain't all that far-fetched. Ah doubt ya coulda offed somethin' like the Headhunter with a fake though, so either yer lyin' or ya did it by... other means."

I kept my mouth shut, though I began to sweat slightly. I didn't really know why I lied in the first place, but something told me it was by far a better idea to keep the fact that the sword was the genuine article a secret.

Not like I'm doing a very good job of it though...

"Well either way, ah won't pry anymore so don'tcha worry none," he continued, waving a hand and giving me a placating smile, "we're all entitled to our secrets, though ah'd advise against showin' that thing off if ya don't wanna draw unwanted attention ta yerself.

"There's many a folk out there who'd literally kill ya ta get their grubby hands on a Spellblade," he let out a dark chuckle, "If certain folk thought that thing was real, they'd hunt ya to the ends o' the earth an' beyond, and even if it wasn't, the fakes still fetch a mighty high price themselves."

My pace slowed to a crawl as his words sunk in, and I paled slightly. I knew going around telling people my sword was real was a bad idea, but to think I'd be hunted just for having a fake?

I shivered at the implications.

"I'll uh... I'll keep that... in mind," I croaked before picking back up my pace and changing the subject, "o-out of curiosity, you wouldn't happen to be the member of the Order Rose was talking about, would you? The one who's supposed to confirm the body of the Headhunter?"

"Nope," Darmund replied casually, "ah came here ta see Rose about another matter, but since ah'm here an' all, we both figured ah might as well go an' take a look."

"Oh," I replied, before stopping suddenly as I remembering something else, "oh, right! Hang on a second..."

Darmund watched curiously as I pulled off my new bag and flipped open one of the pouches on the side. I rummaged around for a moment until I found what I was looking for and pulled out the letter Rose had given me.

"Rose told me to deliver this to the Order's recruitment office in Ruvenbor," I explained, straightening up and holding out the letter, "since you're from the Order, would you be able to deliver it?"

Darmund hummed curiously and took the letter from my hand. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he flipped it this way and that.

"Ya said Rose gave it to ya?" he asked before shaking his head and handing it back to me, "nah, 'fraid not, Miss Sparkle. Not this time."

"Oh, alright then," I replied with a frown as I took the letter back, "sorry, it was so convenient I just kind of asked without thinking."

"Now now, no need ta make that face," Darmund replied raising a hand, "there's a few reasons ah'm declinin' the request. First and foremost is that, fer all you know, ah could be lyin' about bein' part o' the Order—ah'm not lyin' o' course, but all the same ya don't wanna go trustin' a stranger with that kinda information."

I winced at his words, realizing just how stupid and hasty my decision really was. It seemed everyone and everything I ran into was out to teach me some kind of lesson in trust, self-awareness, or common sense.

What made it all the more irritating was that I felt like I shouldn't have needed all these lessons. Was I always this sheltered and naïve?

With a title like the 'Princess of Friendship', I probably was...

"The other reason," Darmund continued, "is that you'd have no real reason ta go ta Ruvenbor otherwise, unless yer lookin' for work, and lemme tell ya right now, Miss Sparkle," he leaned in close, a serious look on his face, "unless yer lookin' to become a soldier in the King's army or joinin' the Order, yer gonna have a hell of a time findin' any decent work."

He straightened up and shrugged.

"Though who can say fer sure, ya might just find somethin' worth doin'," he said in a lighter tone, "either way, from what ah've seen o' ya so far, it might do ya some good ta get out an' see the world."

"Yeah, I kinda think so myself actually," I admitted, slinging my bag back over my shoulder, "there's a lot I don't know about... well... a lot of things. I don't really want to get taken advantage of, but it's kind of hard when I don't know what I'm doing."

"Ah hear that," Darmund replied, nodding his head and giving me a sad, pitying smile, "what ya need is someone ta teach ya how things work, without screwin' ya over." his sad smile turned into a thoughtful frown, which then became another smile a moment later, "...and ah think ah know just the gal fer the job."

"What do you mean?" I asked warily.

"Yer lookin' ta hire a mercenary ta guard ya fer the journey out ta Ruvenbor ain'tcha?" Darmund guessed, a knowing smile plastered across his face, "if that's the case, ah know someone who'll do the job fer free, that is, if they know it's me that sent ya."

"Really?" I asked hopefully before frowning, "that's... I mean, that'd be great and I appreciate the offer and all but... why? Like I said, I'm not too comfortable with the idea of traveling with a mercenary as it is, and making someone I don't know and who doesn't know me travel with me just seems... I dunno... wrong."

"Come on now, little lady," Darmund replied, patting me on the shoulder, "I know the word of a stranger ya just met on the road don't mean much, but ah'm askin' ya ta trust me on this one. The woman ah'm talkin' about may be... rough around the edges, but she's one o' the good ones."

He turned and began walking down the path once more as he spoke, prompting me to follow. It turned out we were only a few more yards away from the guild hall, and I hadn't even noticed.

"She just so happens to be one o' the best damn mercenaries this side o' Vale," he chuckled as we made our way closer to the large wooden double doors that made up the entrance, "ah can personally attest to that little fact. Besides, even if she don't like the idea, she owes me a big debt, an' she always pays her debts."

"Well... okay, but..." I hesitated just before the doors, deciding rather reluctantly to tell Darmund about my other errand, "look, hang on a minute."

Darmund, who'd been reaching for the brass knockers on either door, stopped and turned to me with a quizzical expression. If he was going to insist on involving another stranger, then it was only fair I tell him what I was getting them into.

Once I had his attention, I swallowed and spoke up.

"Do you... know anyone by the name of Qaedis?" I asked, "Qaedis the Seeker?"

"Qaedis the Seeker, eh?" Darmund replied, lifting a hand to his chin and frowning in thought, "now there's a name ah haven't heard in quite some time," his frown deepened slightly and he looked back at me seriously, "ah've heard o' him alright, but what business do you have with him, Miss Sparkle?"

"M-Me?" I stammered, "w-well, I just... I heard about him in town, and I was told he collected things people needed... a-and I kind of figured..."

I trailed off, glancing at my boots as Darmund eyed me critically.

"Ya'll figured you'd pay him a visit, is that it?" he guessed, before shaking his head, "that ain't a good idea, little lady. Qaedis is one o' the best—if not the best scavenger in Vale, but he don't charge bits fer his services."

"W-What do you mean?" I asked, taking a bemused step back, "what does he charge if not bits?"

I don't know what I would've expected from talking to Qaedis. When Samson told me I'd have to pay a price, I figured that would only be fair, and I had hoped I'd have enough to pay for what I needed, but from the way Darmund was talking...

"Favors, Miss Sparkle," Darmund answered with a tone that sent chills down my spine, "the more dire the need, the higher the cost, and these ain't simple favors. They're the kind o' favors that'll get a man, or woman, killed if they ain't careful."

I stared at him, mouth slightly agape. A moment later I snapped my mouth shut and swallowed before speaking again.

"So... if I were to ask him for a traveler's permit to Ruvenbor," I replied weakly, "what do you... what do you think that would cost?"

Darmund's eyes widened in realization and he sighed wearily a moment later.

"Goddesses damn it all," he groaned, removing his stetson and running a gloved hand through his messy black hair, "ah shoulda known ya wouldn't be able ta get a permit at a time like this... come ta think of it, Rose shoulda known that too..."

We all should've known that, I thought bitterly, and unless Darmund or someone else is willing to front the money or get a permit for me... actually, wait a minute...

"Would I just be able to... borrow a permit from someone?" I asked with a sinking feeling, "or are they specific to each person?"

In response, Darmund scratched his head and sighed again before replacing his stetson back on his head and giving me a helpless frown.

"Permits have ta be signed an' stamped by an official," Darmund explained, "if ya can get yer hands on a permit that's already been signed an' stamped, yer golden, but you'd be hard pressed ta find someone willin' ta part with one."

"Unless I were to steal one or go to a scavenger with my request," I surmised, lowering my head and letting out my own tired sigh, "I don't really have many options here, Darmund."

"Well, if ya still wanna see Qaedis about that permit ah can't very well stop ya," Darmund replied, turning back to the doors, "but ah'd still strongly recommend against it, and ah'll leave it up to you ta convince Mauri ta take ya to him."

I blinked and frowned.

Mauri?

Rather than explain, Darmund pulled the doors open and stepped inside, motioning for me to follow with a lopsided grin. I hesitated a moment before stepping in after him.

I wasn't sure what to expect when I entered the guild hall, but what I saw at first glance looked something like a strange cross between an indoor marketplace and a large tavern all rolled into one.

There were several stalls and counters lined up against the walls, leaving plenty of space to walk around. Further back I could see a large open space with several circular wooden tables and chairs scattered about and what appeared to be a bar at the very back, complete with bartender.

On either side of the bar were a set of staircases that led up to a second floor, and I idly wondered if that was were they kept lodgings for anyone to use. If this place really was part tavern it'd make sense, but again, I still wasn't sure if that was the case.

The hall itself looked a bit smaller on the inside than it did on the outside, but I quickly realized that it was because many of the stalls seemed to have doors behind them, no doubt leading into back rooms where merchandise and other supplies were kept.

I didn't know that for sure, but with how much this place reminded me of a market, that was the first thought that came to mind. Next to each of the counters were large boards posted with all sorts of documents.

Some boards were propped up by wooden stands while others were attached to the nearby walls. Some of the counters had no boards at all, and a lot of the ones that did were almost bare—only having a few papers posted here and there.

I couldn't see what was written on any of them from where I stood, but I could see that there were some that had sketches and pictures of various people and unfamiliar beasts.

Those are probably the requests sent in by the townsfolk...

Looking around a bit more, I noticed just how... empty this place was. For as big as the guild hall was, there weren't many people walking about. Aside from those manning the counters, many of the people that were here were sitting in the back, having subdued conversation over drinks.

"Is... is this it?" I asked, walking further inside as I continued to look around, "the place is nice but... where is everyone?"

"This is everyone," Darmund replied with a chuckle, "ah said ah'd getcha acclimated ta the atmosphere, ah never said it was a lively one."

I frowned slightly as I turned to the man, but he seemed as distracted as I was. He walked ahead, scanning the surroundings as though he were looking for something... or someone.

That's right, he's probably looking for this Mauri person.

"Used ta be you'd see all kinds o' people wanderin' about the guild," Darmund continued, still searching the hall, "takin' jobs, postin' jobs, or just wastin' their time an' bits over at the tavern.

"Nowadays though? This place ain't had much trouble in the last few years, so there ain't much need fer the guild, an' this town was already small ta begin with. Headhunter was more a myth than a threat ta most, so no one stuck around ta try an' bag it."

"That's... well..." I paused and furrowed my brow, unsure of what to say to that.

It was sad in a way, sure, but at the same time, wasn't it good that the town was so peaceful? There hadn't been any attacks by the Headhunter and now the town had no more need to worry about it.

"Ah know how ya feel, Miss Sparkle," Darmund said suddenly, glancing back at me with a small, understanding smile, "ya don't need ta worry none. The guild may have diminished, but it ain't goin' anywhere anytime soon."

"It most certainly is not," came an oddly accented and slightly raspy feminine voice from up ahead, "it does not matter how boring things get around here, there is always going to be some poor sap who gets in way over their head, and that is when they come crying to us to get the job done."

I stepped out from behind Darmund and looked ahead to see a woman approaching us. The first thing I noticed was the woman's eyes. They were an icy blue shade that contrasted heavily with a short, tangled mop of dark green hair.

I got the impression the hair color wasn't all that common, but given the color of my own hair, I chose not to comment. The ears peeking out from her green hair tapered almost point, not in an overtly unnatural way but just enough to be noticeable. While it was strange, most of my attention remained fixed on the woman's eyes.

They were sharp, narrow, and slightly slanted, giving her a rather exotic appearance compared to everyone else I'd seen up until this point. The armor she wore was light, the attire above her waist consisting mostly of skintight brown cloth and leather with various pieces of dark grey metal plating here and there.

A dark grey armored corset covered her chest and midriff and she wore a dark brown, formfitting leather tunic beneath, the short sleeves hugging the upper halves of her forearms. Studded, dark grey pauldrons covered her shoulders and were connected by lighter brown straps crisscrossing about her torso.

The majority of her arms were left bare, save for a small metal armband on her left arm just below the sleeve of her tunic. A pair of armored brown leather gloves covered her hands.

Draped around her thighs and held up by a heavy studded dark brown belt was a fauld made up of dark grey, flexible metal scales. The armor itself wrapped completely around the back of her legs and hung rather loosely just down past her knees.

I could just make out a second layer of dark brown leather beneath the metal, along with black wool pants that flared out near the bottom before being neatly tucked into a pair of knee high armored brown boots.

Hanging from her belt was a weapon that looked as foreign as the woman herself did. The black scabbard was long, thin, and had a slight curve. I noted with some interest that the woman wore the scabbard with the curve facing downward, meaning the edge was most likely facing up.

The hilt of the weapon had a flat square guard and the longish grip had been intricately wrapped in some kind of shiny cloth material the same shade as her hair. I couldn't get a good look from where I was, but it looked like the cloth was made of silk.

Maybe it was the combination of her dark green hair combined with all of the brown she wore, but the woman seemed as though she'd be right at home wandering around a forest.

"You got something to say, girl?"

I blinked and refocused my attention on the woman's face, wincing when I saw her borderline hostile expression.

"No, I just... I haven't really... I mean—"

"Never seen a Djävagoan before?" the woman said with a small smirk, "well, get a good look, girl. We are not too common around here," her eyes lidded and she bent over slightly, striking a pose that came off as somewhat provocative, much to my discomfort, "and I am one of the better looking of us, so I do not blame you for gawking."

I frowned, my face burning at the accusation, though Darmund simply rolled his eyes at the woman's antics as though he'd seen her do the same thing countless times before. The woman eyed me for a moment, her smirk turning to a thoughtful frown. She straightened up and moved closer, causing me to take a nervous step back.

"Um..." I took another step back as she got right in my face, "c-can I... help you?"

"You know," the woman mused, looking me up and down, "you are not so bad a specimen yourself. I love the hair, and those eyes are quite... striking," she gave me a wicked smile, showing all her teeth, "I bet you would make a fine lay."

I practically scrambled away, my entire face burning red with embarrassment and indignation. I fumbled for a response, but I was too caught off guard to say anything intelligent.

"E-Excuse me?!"

"Alright, alright, that's enough o' that, Mau," came Darmund's exasperated voice as he pulled the chuckling woman away by the arm, "yer scarin' the poor girl, and we ain't even made proper introductions yet."

"Oh, she is so innocent! I love it!" the woman turned to Darmund with a childish grin that, combined with her smaller frame, made her look like an actual child, "tell me, where did you find this one, Darmund?"

"She ain't from around here, and ah'd appreciate it if ya didn't scare her off," Darmund replied, scowling at the woman. He turned back to me with an apologetic smile, "mighty sorry about her, Miss Sparkle. This here's Mauri, and like ah said, she can be a bit of a handful, but she means well, don't you, Mau?"

He gave Mauri a pointed glare, to which the smaller woman merely replied with a roll of her eyes and a glare of her own.

"I can introduce myself, Darmund, I do not need you coloring the opinion of every person we meet," she turned back to me with a sweet, almost saccharine smile, "my name is Mauri Bandal. It is very good to meet you Miss... Sparkle, was it?"

"Uh, yeah," I replied, nonplussed and slightly wary, "Sparkle—S-Stella! Stella Sparkle, it's... nice to meet you too. Darmund kind of told me a bit about you."

"Oh did he now?" she replied, raising an eyebrow at the tall man, "good things I hope? Surely he had more to say than that I am 'a handful'?"

"No, he did," I replied quickly, "he mentioned you were a good person, reliable... and that you might be able to help me," I grimaced slightly, unsure if I even wanted help from the woman, "he said you were a really good mercenary—one of the best out here."

"Well aren't you sweet," Mauri teased, turning to fully face the sighing man next to her, "unfortunately flattery will get you nowhere with me, Darmund, you know that."

"Ah ain't trying to get anywhere like that, Mauri," Darmund replied, rubbing his face tiredly, "Ah'm just callin' it like ah see it, an' nothin' more. Yer a damn fine mercenary, no two ways about it, but yer far from mah type," he shook his head an gave the pouting woman a serious frown, "in any case, ah am askin' ya to do Miss Sparkle a favor here on mah behalf."

In that moment, Mauri's features sharpened, her mouth falling into a thin line and her eyes becoming hard as she stared back at Darmund. The sudden change shocked me, and I fell into a nervous silence as I watched the exchange.

"You realize what it means to ask this of me for free, yes?" Mauri asked in a quiet, yet weighty tone, "if I do this favor it will count towards what I owe you, and once the debt has been paid, I will consider us even, no matter what you say later."

"That's fine by me," Darmund replied, shrugging his shoulders, "ah figure ah've been holdin' this debt over yer head long enough. So long as ya get this little lady where she needs ta go, ya'll can consider us square. No more debt."

Mauri eyed the man a moment longer before breaking out into a wide grin and clapping her hands together with an air of finality. I wasn't sure what had transpired between the two, but I got the odd impression that some kind of unseen contract had just been fulfilled.

"Very well then!" Mauri cried happily before turning back to me, "as Mister Belmondt has been so kind to recommend my services, I suppose I have no choice but to help, and for free to boot!" she winked at me and her smile grew playful, "aren't you a lucky one?"

I smiled back at Mauri, outwardly grateful that she was willing to help. Inwardly however, I wasn't exactly looking forward to having the diminutive woman as guard, given her dubious and somewhat off-putting personality.

Well, the first impression might not have been all that great, but I suppose I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth... right?

Episode III – The Guild ~ End

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It was only a few moments later that we all found ourselves seated at one of the many tables near the back of the guild hall. Darmund had been kind enough to order me a drink since it was my first time here.

I may not have remembered anything about myself, but I knew of alcoholic beverages, though not much about them. I wasn't sure if I'd ever partaken of the bitter drink, but I somehow got the feeling that I hadn't. Mauri insisted I get myself a mug of malt liquor—a drink which she herself had ordered an alarmingly large mug of.

I declined, not particularly fond of the smell, and instead opted to take Darmund's suggestion of an apparently non-alcoholic drink called 'ice-cream soda'. I was fairly sure I'd eaten ice cream at some point, but to make a soda out of it? I didn't think I'd ever heard of such a thing.

My curiosity piqued, I took a sip, and quickly downed the rest of it a moment later. I licked my lips, savoring the thick creamy vanilla taste. The carbonation tickled the back of my throat as the drink went down, and I hummed in delight, wanting more, but not wanting to bother Darmund for another round.

To both my embarrassment and delight, the large man ordered me another round without my prompting, and he himself ordered a far more modestly sized glass of what he called 'whiskey'. With our drinks in hand, Mauri downed a generous portion of liquor before turning to me with an inquisitive smile.

"So... Stella," she began, dragging out the words, "from what Darmund here tells me, you wish to travel outside this town and require an escort, yes?" at my confirmation she nodded and leaned back in her chair, "normally I charge quite a bit for my services, but as this is a... special favor," at that, she cast a quick glance in Darmund's direction before turning back to me, "...I will take you wherever you need to go, within reasonable distance of course."

"Well," I replied, taking a more measured sip of the mug of cream soda I held in both hands, "from what I've learned, it's not too far from here. I only need to go as far as Ruvenbor, and I should be fine on my own after that," I frowned, "well... I'll figure things out from there on my own anyway."

Mauri tsk'd and leaned forward, setting her mug down on the table and staring me in the eye as she spoke.

"I can take you that far easily, but a girl like you wandering around that town without any clue as to what you are doing is bound to cause trouble," she replied gravely, "both for you and others who get involved. Ruvenbor is not like this small town, not even close. It is the largest city in Vale, and you would do well to go in prepared if you go at all."

"She ain't wrong, Miss Sparkle," Darmund added, resting an arm on the table, "that town'll swallow ya whole if yer not careful, an' it's real easy ta fall in with, or fall victim to, the wrong crowd without even realizin' it. Hell, once ya do realize it, it might be too late ta back out."

"I'm aware of that," I replied quietly as I stared into the amber froth of my drink, "but I don't really have a choice right now. I don't know anyone who'd be able to help me, and I can't just rely on others to do everything for me anyway," I raised my head and gave the other two what I hoped was a reassuring smile, "and besides, I'm not completely helpless. I... well, let's just say I can take care of myself if absolutely necessary."

"Oh? Have some tricks up our sleeve, do we?" Mauri replied, leaning closer and giving me a conspiratorial grin, "perhaps you are more competent in the way of the sword than that gaudy replica on your back suggests? Perhaps you are not all show and there is a true warrior hidden within?"

"I... don't think so," I answered with an uneasy chuckle, "I'll admit I'm stronger than I look, but I'm hardly a warrior, and this... replica," I frowned and turned my head slightly to look back at my sword, "I don't even know how to use it. It's just kind of a... keepsake, more than anything."

"Ah... I see," Mauri replied, frowning in disappointment as she sat back and took another swig of liquor, "that is a shame, but it is not all bad. You may not think yourself fit to be a warrior, but I can see it," she gave a knowing smirk, "there is a lion sleeping within you, Stella Sparkle," she fell silent for a moment as she looked at me, then frowned thoughtfully, "...or perhaps it is more of a demon."

"What?" I asked, completely baffled and somewhat unnerved by the woman's assessment. I turned to Darmund for some kind of explanation, but he only shrugged in response, apparently just as confused as I was. Finding no help there, I returned my attention back to Mauri, "what do you mean 'demon'?"

Mauri silently worked her jaw, as if trying to decide whether to answer the question or not. In the end she chuckled and shook her head before taking another drink.

"Never mind, I should not have said anything," she finally replied, "you may discover for yourself what I mean one day, but do not let it bother you now. Now is the time to get to know my client!" her bright smile returned and she smacked a hand down on the table, "tell me, Stella, what can you do?"

It took me a second to respond, as I was still trying to parse what Mauri meant by me having a demon inside me. She told me not to worry about it now, but with everything that'd happened to me, I couldn't help but think about it. Something in the back of my mind stirred the more I thought on her words, but no new thoughts were forthcoming, much to my frustration.

"You alright there, little lady?"

I finally snapped out of it at the sound of Darmund's voice, and looked from him and his concerned frown, to Mauri, who raised an eyebrow. I rubbed my arm and gave an awkward, apologetic smile.

"I'm fine, sorry about that," I asked, feeling somewhat idiotic, "what was the question again?"

"Skills, Stella Sparkle," Mauri replied in a flat tone, "what can you do? If we are to be traveling together, I would like to know what you can contribute to the journey."

"What I can..." I frowned and lowered my head in thought, "well... how do you mean? If you're talking about fighting, like I said, I don't really know how to use a sword, but I'm alright with a rifle."

"Bah... guns," Mauri spat in disdain, "any simpleton can pick up a gun, pull the trigger, and kill something. It makes me sick to think about."

"Really?" I asked, somewhat surprised at her reaction, "I only learned how to use one a couple of days ago, and it was a lot harder than it looked."

"No, you misunderstand me, Sparkle," Mauri raised her mug, but didn't drink. Her eyes narrowed slightly as they focused on me, "I am sure there are... what is the word? Nuances?" she shook her head, "I am sure there is an art to learning how to properly use a gun, but guns make killing easy."

She leaned forward, her gaze intensifying.

"Far too easy."

I leaned back slightly and glanced behind me, this time at the rifle on my back, unsure of what to say in response. I thought a moment about what she was saying and realized she was right. It may have taken me time to learn how to use the rifle the way it was meant to be used, but it really was far too easy to take a life.

"I... think I get what you're saying," came my slow reply as I turned to face Mauri once more, "when I was learning how to use my rifle, most of the lesson was about what not to do and how to avoid accidental injury and death."

"Exactly," Mauri replied with a small smile. She eased back in her chair, seemingly satisfied that I was getting the picture, "put one of those in the hands of a child who has not yet learned the weight of life and death and you can invite a tragedy that could have easily been avoided."

The woman suddenly stood up and grabbed at the sheathed blade tied around her waist. In one quick motion, she pulled the sword out and raised it up for all to see. I was far from an expert when it came to swords, or really any kind of weapon, but even I could see that the blade she held aloft was a thing of beauty.

It was a single edged blade, slightly curved, tinted green the same as her hair and the silk around the hilt, and polished to a brilliant shine. Even at a glance, I could tell the edge was terribly sharp, and overall, it looked as though the sword was newly forged. I began to wonder if it had seen any use at all.

"Now, this," Mauri exclaimed, "wielding one of these takes effort, dedication, and in this world, a good deal of talent. It is certainly possible, but with a sword, or any other similar weapon, it is far harder for those untrained or unworthy to kill so carelessly."

"Ah'll give ya that one, Mau," Darmund said, speaking for the first time since the conversation began, "much easier ta handle some nutcase wieldin' a melee weapon than it is dealin' with some nutcase with a firearm, but even so," he leaned back and patted the pistol on his belt, "fer someone who actually bothered ta learn how to use their gun, it pays ta have one handy."

Mauri rolled her eyes and returned her blade to its sheath before plopping back down into her seat.

"Anyway, I think we are getting off topic," she continued before turning back to me, "it would do you well to learn how to use that blade, Stella Sparkle. I think you will find that it will be far more reliable in the long run. Even if it is only an imitation of the real spellblades of legend, it is still functional, yes?"

"Well... yeah," I admitted, "but I don't know if it's a good idea to go around using it out in the open. From what Darmund tells me, even having a fake could be dangerous for my health."

"Darmund is a paranoid lout," Mauri replied dismissively, "though I will not say that he is completely wrong, I will tell you that it will not be a problem if you know how to defend yourself."

A glance in Darmund's direction showed the man was unaffected by the insult, merely shrugging his broad shoulders and taking another draw of whiskey as he listened to Mauri speak. I returned my attention to the smaller woman who was now hunched over her own mug, a contemplative expression on her face.

"Perhaps I might even teach you a thing or two, if the situation warrants such a thing," she smiled, "something to think about for the future, yes?"

"I... suppose so," I replied with my own uncertain smile, "I... you're right, I guess. I really should learn how to defend myself so I don't have to completely rely on my rifle. If you're willing to teach, I'm willing to learn."

"That is what I like to hear!" Mauri laughed, before tossing back the last of her liquor and slamming the mug back down on the table, "now then, let us move on to what else you can do."

"Well, there's... not much else, really," I replied, "I'm pretty strong, I guess, but other than that, as far as skills outside of defending myself go... I can't really think of anything else I'm particularly good at."

Besides maybe magic... and friendship, but I'm not getting into either of those topics right now.

As if reading my thoughts, Mauri narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously, as though trying to tell whether or not I was hiding anything. I tried to look as innocent as possible, and Mauri hummed thoughtfully for a moment before, much to my relief, she decided to move on.

"So it seems I must be the one to do most of the work during our journey then," she sighed in exasperated resignation, "I suppose it cannot be helped. You have the aura of a novice and the stink of naivety hangs heavy about you."

I winced and rubbed my arm before looking over to Darmund.

"Is... is it really that obvious?"

The stetson wearing hunter shrugged again, this time giving me a small apologetic smile.

"Ah wouldn'ta put it quite so bluntly, but Mau's right, Miss Sparkle," the tall man agreed, "ya'll may look the part of an experienced warrior what with that fancy blade and rifle hangin' off yer back, but any real veteran'd be able ta tell how green ya were just by a glance."

"Luckily," Mauri added before I could respond. I turned back to see that she was once more leaning forward, a smirk plastered across her face as she looked at me, "I have taken a liking to you, and am willing to teach you a few things that would make your life much easier."

"I'd, ah... appreciate that," I replied uncertainly, "honestly I was kind of worried about going out on my own. I... can't really remember anything about who I am or where I came from, nor do I really know anything about this w... this country, or its apparent war with Grynda," I shrugged with a helpless smile, "I'm basically fumbling around in the dark here."

"Well, it is a good thing Darmund brought you to me then," Mauri replied with an air of smugness, "I might look young and I may be small, but I have more life experience than either you or the giant over there."

My eyebrows raised slightly at that and I took a closer look at Mauri's small form. With her size and facial features, she could've been mistaken for a girl anywhere between fifteen and twenty years old. I found my own assessment rather odd given that I hadn't even been human myself and should therefore have no frame of reference, but there it was.

In any case, she looked far younger than she apparently was, and while I didn't exactly look very old myself, I still felt an odd pang of envy. It was strange to be sure, but I was content to leave the matter be and focus on informing Mauri of my other little 'errand'.

"There is... one other thing I wanted to do that I'd hoped you'd help me with," I began hesitantly, "i-if it's not too much trouble I mean. It's... kind of important actually, given my current... circumstances."

"Oh?" Mauri asked, cocking a curious eyebrow, "and what might that be, Stella Sparkle? What new task do you wish to heap upon me?"

"Well, if you don't mind," I explained, "I was hoping we could take a detour into some woods near the town. There's something I kind of need to do there."

"The woods near town?" Mauri questioned, turning to Darmund with a bemused frown, "Darmund, does she plan to do what I think she does?"

"She ain't got a traveler's permit ta get into Ruvenbor," Darmund clarified, his face somewhat grim, "an' it seems someone tipped her off about Qaedis the Seeker an' his 'services'."

Upon hearing this, Mauri whipped around to face me with an expression I couldn't quite place. It was like a mix of incredulity, disgust, and, oddly enough, thoughtfulness. After a moment her gaze slowly lowered downward towards the table, her expression turning contemplative.

"Qaedis the Seeker, is it?" she muttered more to herself than me. A slow, slightly wicked smile crossed her face, "yes... yes, that should do nicely," she looked back up to me a moment later, speaking a bit louder, "so you want to see old Qaedis, do you?"

"Y... Yeah," I replied warily, "apparently Qaedis is bad news, but it doesn't seem like I have much of a choice but to ask him for a permit, unless someone's willing to give me theirs, I steal one from someone or somewhere, or I try to sneak into Ruvenbor somehow, which I don't see going all that well."

"I can see your problem," Mauri nodded sagely, "and so you turn to the one man that can get you what you need for no bits," she leaned over the table again and steepled her fingers, eyeing me critically, "and I assume Darmund has already told of the possible danger of accepting Qaedis' help?"

"He did, but I'm... willing to risk it," I confirmed with a single nod. I turned to address Darmund as I spoke, "based on what you told me, the risk of his favors are based on what I'm asking of him, right?"

"More or less," Darmund replied carefully, "keep in mind though, Miss Sparkle, Ruvenbor is on high alert right now due to the war against Grynda, and the king ain't too eager ta let folks in an' out o' the city as they please right now. That goes double fer strangers like yerself."

"And because of that, permits are probably in high demand right now," I finished with a despondent sigh, "they're probably harder to get, meaning they'd have more value than they normally would, and that means Qaedis might up the risk of whatever he wants me to do in return."

"You catch on quick," Mauri replied, with a small nod of acknowledgement, "dealing with Qaedis is a tricky business, best left to those who truly know what they want and what they are getting themselves into," she jabbed a finger in my direction, "you may know what you want, but you are not prepared to deal with Qaedis. Not as you are, and not alone."

"I know, and I don't really have a good feeling about him either," I admitted before shoring up my determination and looking Mauri in the eye, "but I won't get anywhere by not taking risks.

"From what I've read, there's a lot of danger to be found, not just here in Vale, but everywhere. Deadly monsters, vicious bandits and cutthroats, even nature itself seems like it'll be out to get me," I smiled weakly, "I need to start preparing myself somehow."

"Well said, Stella Sparkle," Mauri replied with a grin, "and it is because of that resolve that I will see to it, you make it through those woods and to Qaedis' mansion. However," she held up a hand, cutting off my reply, "if we are going into those woods, I have one condition that must be met."

"Okay," I answered, the wariness returning to my voice, "what is it?"

"First," she held up a finger as she spoke, "you planned on us taking a coach to Ruvenbor, yes?"

"I was planning on it, yeah," I replied, "I was hoping I could pay a bit extra to have the driver stop by wherever Qaedis lived before heading towards Ruvenbor."

"That ain't how coaches work here, Miss Sparkle," Darmund said with a small shake of his head, "they don't go off the beaten path like that, an' Qaedis' mansion ain't exactly on the beaten path."

"Oh," I replied, dismayed that my plan was doomed to failure from the beginning, "I guess that makes sense given how dangerous I've heard things are outside town."

"It is just as well," Mauri chimed in with a bright smile, "my one condition was that we would not be making use of a coach at all."

"What?!" I cried, snapping a disbelieving look towards Mauri, "why not? Are you saying you want us to travel all the way to Ruvenbor on foot?"

"That is exactly what I am saying, Stella Sparkle," Mauri confirmed, all mirth gone and a serious frown now adorning her face, "if I am to escort you to Ruvenbor, I want to make sure you are prepared. You need to experience what the world has to offer firsthand, Stella Sparkle, and you cannot do that from within the confines of a horse-drawn carriage."

"But... but why?" I spluttered, "why go through all the trouble? The only reason you're even doing this is because you owe Darmund a favor, right? I'm already asking you to do more than you were asked with my detour, so why would you do more?"

"It is true that I took this on as an opportunity to pay my debt to the tall one," Mauri admitted with a single nod. She put on another playful smile, "but as I said, I have taken a liking to you, Stella Sparkle. You intrigue me, and I feel I will stumble upon some very interesting things if I travel with you."

"Ya just might at that," Darmund added, hiding a knowing smile behind his glass of whiskey, "hell, ah'd join ya if ah didn't have... prior engagements," he frowned and sighed as he lowered the now empty glass back down on the table, "Goddesses know I could do with some proper adventurin', but, duty beckons an' all that."

"Adventuring?" I replied, turning to Darmund with a raised brow, "who said anything about an adventure? I'm just gonna see Qaedis... who apparently lives in a mansion in the woods," my face scrunched up in bemusement before I shook my head and moved on, "do his favor to get what I need, and make my way to the city when I have it. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Yer right ah suppose," Darmund responded, chuckling slightly, "guess that ain't really... much of an adventure."

He didn't say any more than that on the subject, but he still held that odd knowing smile, much to my confusion. Deciding to just ignore it for the time being, I turned my attention back to Mauri, or rather, where she'd been a moment ago.

Blinking in surprise, I looked around and spotted her at the bar a moment later. I watched for a moment as she ordered another round of malt liquor, and frowned thoughtfully before addressing Darmund once again.

"Hey... Darmund?" I began, not taking my eyes off the laughing woman, "what do you think Mauri meant when she said she could see a demon sleeping within me?" I turned to face Darmund, a troubled frown crossing my face, "do you see the same thing?"

The man didn't answer right away, instead raising his gaze towards the ceiling and tapping his glass in thought. A moment later he sighed and lowered his gaze and looked at me. He gave a small, helpless shrug and spoke, his voice low and easy.

"Mau is a strange woman, Miss Sparkle, but she's got an almost unnatural insight when it comes to people," he explained, "especially when it comes to those who 'are destined to take to the battlefield one day', or so she says."

He turned to watch the woman in question as she tried to argue the price of her new drink down with the bartender. I followed his gaze, but didn't say anything, and he continued a moment later.

"Ah don't know how she does it, but she's never been wrong about a person before," he said, before snorting with mirth, "she wasn't wrong about me, ah tell ya that much," he frowned and faced me again, "but honestly? ah'd do as she says an' not worry about it fer now."

I took note of the fact that he hadn't actually answered my second question, but let the matter drop for the moment.

"I can't not worry about it though," I replied, shaking my head, "something about what she said is bugging me, and I don't know why," I sighed and scratched the back of my head, "maybe it's because of the Headhunter, but what she said is making me nervous."

I turned my contemplative gaze from the table to Darmund himself, raising an eyebrow.

"Speaking of which, why didn't you mention the Headhunter to Mauri when we were talking about my skill?" I asked curiously, "I kind of expected you to, but you didn't."

"Well, why didn't you?" Darmund shot back with a raised eyebrow of his own, "ya had the opportunity, but ya didn't take it. Ah didn't bring it up because ah don't know all the details. What's yer excuse, Miss Sparkle?"

"Well I... it's... complicated," I replied lamely, "a lot of things happened and I... don't really want to talk about it... not yet."

"She'll find out eventually, ya do know that, right?" Darmund replied quietly, "if not from you, then probably somewhere else. Ya can't keep a feat like wipin' out the infamous Headhunter secret forever, an' when it gets out, people are gonna start talkin'. Start wonderin' how ya managed ta pull it off."

I remained silent, studying Darmund's expression and trying to work out how much he really knew about what had transpired. I couldn't gauge anything other than honest concern, but still...

"How much do you know about what happened? Really?"

"The only thing ah know is that ya put the damn thing down fer good," Darmund replied without hesitation. He raised his hands in a show of placation, "I swear on mah life an' the life of mah dear departed mother that ah don't know anythin' else," his eyes flickered towards something directly behind me for a brief second "...though ah admit, ah do have mah suspicions."

It took me a moment to realize he'd been looking at my sword and I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat. Seeing this, Darmund lowered his hands and gave me a reassuring smile.

"Hey, like ah said, ah'm not gonna pry," he said, giving another careless shrug of his shoulders, "but if ya ever wanna tell me what really went down, ah'm all ears. Ah think you'll find ah'm a pretty good listener."

I chewed on that for a long moment before returning his reassuring smile with a smile of my own. I didn't think of Darmund as a friend quite yet, but it was a start, and that was enough for now. At the very least I felt like I could trust Darmund a lot more than Mauri at any rate.

"Thanks, Darmund," I answered with genuine gratitude, "I'll keep that mind if I ever see you again. It's... it's nice to know there's a friendly face out there, and I won't forget you."

"Same here, Miss Sparkle," Darmund replied, grunting quietly as he pushed himself out of his seat. He patted down his pants and turned to me with a nod, "if ya ever get yerself into trouble in Ruvenbor, come find me an' ah'll do what ah can ta get ya out of it."

"Leaving so soon?" came Mauri's voice, "and where is my heartfelt farewell, eh, Darmund?"

We both turned to see the armored woman making her way back to the table with another large, sloshing mug of malt liquor. Her face was slightly red, but she still seemed to be fairly lucid, if her tone was anything to go by.

I didn't know too much about the effects of alcohol, but I was told by Darmund that it apparently made you a lot less coherent and a lot stupider the more you drank, which was another reason I decided not to indulge. In any case, Mauri smoothly sat down in her seat, still giving Darmund a mock glare.

"I thought we were friends, you and I, yet you ignore me in favor of this woman," she jerked a thumb in my direction, "tell me, Darmund, what does she have that I do not, hm?"

"The good sense not ta drink so Goddesses damned much during the day fer one thing," Darmund replied with a hint of disapproval, "seriously, Mauri, ya got a job ta do so cut it back, would ya?"

Mauri, who'd been about to raise the mug to her lips, paused halfway and narrowed her eyes at the man.

"I know my limits, Darmund," Mauri replied icily, "do not lecture me as if I were some irresponsible teenage whelp who could not hold her liquor."

"Ah'm just sayin', ya have someone else's life in yer hands now," Darmund replied, undaunted by Mauri's dangerous tone, "maybe think about that a bit before throwin' 'em back like that."

He turned to me, his disapproving frown vanishing as he tipped his hat and gave me one last, friendly smile.

"Here's hopin' ah see you again real soon, Miss Sparkle," he said before turning on his heel and making his way back towards the guild hall's entrance. He turned and called back to me from over his shoulder as he went , "remember, if ya need help, come find me in Ruvenbor!"

With that, he waved a hand and was soon out of sight. Both Mauri and I watched him go for a moment, before a scoff from Mauri caught my attention. I looked around to see her downing a generous portion of her drink before she once again slammed it back down on the table.

"I am his elder, yet he treats me like a child, that one," she grumbled, cursing in a language I didn't understand. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and, to my surprise, smiled brightly "ah, but he means well, I suppose, and his earnestness is endearing, much like your innocence and naivety, Stella Sparkle."

I furrowed my brow as she looked over to me, unsure whether or not to take her comment as an insult or a compliment. In the end I decided to just take it as a compliment and move on.

"So... what do we do now?" I asked, finishing off my second round of cream soda, "are we leaving right away, or...?"

"Patience, my little Amethyst," she replied, raising a hand, "I still need to collect a few things, then we will be on our way."

"Amethyst?" I replied, completely baffled by the name, "did you... just call me Amethyst?"

"I did," Mauri replied off-handedly, "your eyes shine like an amethyst jewel in the sunlight, so I refer to you as such. Besides, I find it a much better alias than Stella, don't you?"

"I... what?" I replied, suddenly put on the backfoot, "that's not...an alias..." I sighed after a moment, unable and unwilling to put up the facade at the return of Mauri's knowing smirk, "...how did you know?"

"You mentioned you did not remember much about yourself, yes?" Mauri answered, "from that alone, I could easily guess the name was a fake, and 'Sparkle'? Really?"

"Actually, Stella was the name I came up with," I replied with an embarrassed shrug, "I... I think Sparkle may actually be my real name, or at least part of it. It was all I could remember when I first woke up."

"Oh really?" Mauri replied with some intrigue coloring her tone, "interesting. Odd, but interesting," she stretched and leaned back in her chair with her mug in hand as she continued, "in any case, I like Amethyst, so that is what I will call you. Aside from that, I know you can do more than you let on."

My heart began to race in my chest and I could feel Mauri's icy blue eyes pinning me down with their sudden intensity. She didn't say a word for a long moment and I sat there, unable to say anything myself, then she spoke again, her voice low and even.

"I will not ask what it is you are trying to hide from me, Sparkle, but I will say this," she leaned forward slowly, her eyes remaining locked on mine, "...there will be a time when you will have to reveal that secret, and when that time comes, you will do so without hesitation, do you understand me?"

I nodded vigorously, now wondering just how much she really knew. Did she really believe my sword was a fake, or did she know better? Did both she and Darmund suspect I could use magic? Did she know something about our upcoming journey that I didn't?

The questions came one after another as we locked eyes, and when she finally pulled back and took a small sip of liquor, I took the opportunity to let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding.

"I will say no more on the matter so long as you understand," Mauri finally said, her casual smile returning as though nothing had happened. She raised her mug high and her smile widened, "that bit of business aside, here is to the journey ahead and a friendship everlasting, eh, Amethyst Sparkle?"

I grimaced as Mauri polished off her second mug in an overly enthusiastic display, unable to share in her apparent mirth. Somehow I felt as though the stakes had gotten a lot higher, and I could only pray that Mauri was as reliable as Darmund said, because if she wasn't, then I had a feeling I wasn't going to last very long, even with my abilities.

Here's hoping the journey ahead doesn't kill me...

~ Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born. ~

Episode IV – The First Leg ~ Part I

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It was late afternoon by the time Mauri had gotten her affairs in order for the trip. I'd already been prepared, and after a quick lunch at one of the smaller restaurants in town square, we gathered our things and headed for the town's entrance.

Seeing at how late it was getting, I'd actually suggested staying one more day in town and heading out in the morning, but Mauri wasn't having any of it. Apparently she'd slept in earlier and was itching to 'go out and do something worthwhile'.

"I have grown sick of this town, Amethyst," Mauri explained as we headed north, passing the many citizens going about their business. A few walking close by frowned at the small woman, but Mauri ignored them and continued addressing me, her voice uncomfortably loud, "there is little to do for someone like me, and I have found it a rather dull experience."

"Why'd you come here in the first place?" I asked, in earnest curiosity, "if you were hanging out in the guild hall, I assume it had something to do with guild work?"

"Bah, hardly," Mauri snorted, kicking at a bit of rock that had loosed itself from the stone path, "I suppose you could call me a wanderer—traveling where I please and getting involved in whatever catches my interest," she glanced over in my direction and smiled, "in a way, I was not so different from you once."

"Really?" I asked, adjusting my bag and looking back at Mauri with a bemused frown, "how so?"

Rather than answer right away, Mauri turned a contemplative gaze up towards the sky above, humming in thought. I watched her curiously, but didn't say anything, figuring I'd let her gather her own thoughts first.

"My home country of Djävago lies far, far to the west," Mauri replied after a moment, "it is an isolated community, cut off from the rest of civilization by both the sea and thick forests full of trees that reach the very heavens themselves. My people have chosen to live with nature, and we make our homes amongst those trees."

Ah, so my guess was right after all.

"When most look upon me, they see a mere girl barely past her childhood," she said, turning to me with a small smirk, "there is reason for that. I told you I was older than I looked, yes?"

"Yeah," I replied carefully, "I was wondering about that. You look a lot younger than I do, and though I'm not really sure how old I am exactly, I'd say I was around my early to mid twenties if I had to guess by looks."

Mauri chuckled at that.

"In actuality, my young friend, I have quite a few more years on you than that," her smirk widened into a cheeky grin and her next words came in a playful whisper, "about four hundred years to be exact."

I nearly slowed to a stop as I tried to process that bit of information. Mauri simply laughed at my no doubt ridiculous expression, but I was too stunned to care. I could've been wrong, but I doubted even the Headhunter had been that old.

"Over four hundred years old," I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief, "people can really live that long?"

"Well, not normally, no," Mauri explained as I picked back up my pace, "the people of Djävago are special in that our sacred commune with nature over the course of thousands of years have given us vastly elongated lifespans. I would be about twenty-five years or so in the lifespan of the average human, so I'd be just about your age," she frowned down at herself, "though I actually am rather small for my age in general."

"Wow," I replied, my brows still raised in wonder, "I guess when it comes to experience, no one around here has you beat," my frowned returned a moment later, "but if that's the case, how does that make you like me? I'm pretty sure I haven't lived that long."

"Well, I made a show of saying I had more experience than Darmund," her grin fell slightly and her tone grew a little quieter, "but really, much of my long life has been spent among my people, who, as a whole, are very ignorant of the world beyond our vast forests. I only left my home a mere ten years ago."

"I see, so that's what you meant," I replied just as quietly, "you set out into the world with no idea what to expect then?"

"No idea whatsoever," Mauri confirmed with a sigh, "of my people, only a few have been as far as the shores beyond the forests, and even less have actually traveled out into the world," she grimaced, "those that have, have never come back."

I could tell by her look that there was more to the statement, but chose not to pry. She glanced at me as if expecting me to ask, and looked relieved when I didn't.

"There is only one family in my entire village that knows of sailing and boat making," she continued, "it was thanks to them that I was able to set off on my own journey."

She chuckled and turned her gaze towards the open fields full of rows upon rows of wheat, and I followed her gaze. I hadn't even realized we'd made it out into the farmlands just beyond the town's borders. Maybe it was because of my experiences, but I found I preferred the view of the countryside moreso than the mountain range behind me.

"I had never seen the ocean let alone ridden on a boat," Mauri continued, catching my attention once more, "I may have lived hundreds of years, but out there on the open sea, I may as well have been a mere child," she chuckled again, "I certainly acted the part."

"And you went out all alone?" I asked worriedly, "no one else came with you? Actually, why did you decide to leave in the first place?"

"The family I told you about, who knew of sailing?" she explained, "I was close friends with the daughter of the head of the family. She agreed to take me across the sea to Vale, but I could not convince her to join me any further, and she returned home to Djävago once we reached land."

"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that," I replied honestly, "it must've been hard to say goodbye like that."

"Yes well, it was some time ago and I have since gotten over it," she shrugged her shoulders absently, "to answer your other question, I simply grew tired of life in the forest and wanted to see the world with my own eyes. It sounds childish now, but back then, I was a child in mind if not in body."

I looked her over again and raised an eyebrow, my dubious look not going unnoticed by the woman with the clearly childlike frame. As if to add to the illusion of being a child, she frowned and stuck her tongue out at me.

"Say what you will, Sparkle, but know that I am proud of my small stature," she huffed, "it has helped me escape dangerous situations in ways you would have never expected."

"I'm sure it has," I muttered under my breath before speaking in a normal tone, "anyway, that doesn't explain how you ended up all the way out here in this small town out in the country, or how or why you joined the Unyielding Blade."

"Patience, my purple haired friend—"

"It's actually more of an indigo—"

"—I was just about to get to that very tale," she cleared her throat and continued, barreling right over me, "you see, like you, I was as naive as a newborn babe when I arrived in Vale for the first time, and had to learn many things the hard way. Ignorance, culture, language, prejudice... it was not easy to deal with all of these things, but I rose above it eventually and made a name for myself."

I listened to her every word, all the while wondering whether or not we were more alike than she realized. We were certainly far more different than she knew, I knew that much for sure.

I mean, I used to be a completely different species before all of this apparently. Doesn't really get much different than that.

Still, from what little I remembered of my own world, I got the sense that it was far less dangerous or gritty than this one. In a sense, I'd been thrown from my own presumably comfortable life by some mysterious force and dropped into a world I knew nothing about in a form that wasn't my own... all on top of having amnesia.

If anything, my situation was much, much worse. Still, I understood where she was coming from, and my situation did ring similarly to hers, even if my circumstances were a little more extreme.

"Mine was a family of warriors," Mauri continued, oblivious to my introspection, "there had not been any kind of war or in-fighting between my people in several millennia, but my own family had kept the way of the sword alive throughout many generations," she snorted, "relics of the past, they called us and our discipline, pah!"

"Well, I can't really blame them to be honest—not to say I agree or disagree," I added quickly at Mauri's sour expression, "I'm just saying, if there's no threats from within or without for a long period of time, it would make sense that people would get complacent, and after centuries of peace, it's no wonder they gave up the ways of war."

"A shame is what it is," Mauri replied, shaking her head in disapproval, "I know full well the need for peace. I was taught of the dangers of war, the horrors of wanton bloodshed, and that drawing your steel was only to be done as a final resort... but I was also told that a hawk without talons is no hawk at all."

I'm pretty sure a hawk is still a hawk even without talons, but I get what she means.

"It does not matter how long our peace has lasted," the green haired woman practically hissed, "it does not matter that there are no threats within our borders. We have only managed to live the way we do because the world has yet to bear its fangs against us," she turned to me, looking more serious than I'd ever seen her before, "I have seen and learned much since I left home, and I know now, more than ever, that the peace in my country will not last forever."

Her words were spoken with so much certainty that I would've thought it was some kind of premonition. With how ominous her words were and how grim her expression was, I found myself wondering if she knew whether or not something bad was actually going to happen to her home.

She let out a long sigh and the dark look on her face passed—her smile coming back, accompanied by a small shrug.

"My family had known this to be true for ages, and so kept the way of the warrior alive," she jerked a thumb behind her, pointing it back towards the town, "it is also one of the reasons why I chose to join the Unyielding Blade."

"Because you were afraid your home would be attacked?" I asked, not seeing the connection, "I'm not quite sure where that fits in."

"It's all about experience, my little Amethyst," Mauri replied, raising a pompous, lecturing finger, "I joined the Unyielding Blade to further hone my skills and learn new ways of fighting so that when the day came, I could better defend my home when I eventually return."

"If that was the case, why not just find another person to teach you a different style of fighting?"

"Because of the other reasons I joined the guild," Mauri replied with a wistful smile, "I told you that I would get involved in whatever caught my interest, and the many people I met in that guild interested me greatly. Darmund was actually the one who convinced me to join."

"He was?" I asked, my brows raising in surprise. I thought about it for a moment and nodded, "actually yeah, having met him myself, I could definitely see that happening."

I thought to ask Mauri about the debt she owed the large man, but she had already moved on.

"Indeed! He is an intriguing man, that one!" Mauri laughed. Her laughter died out a second later and her smile settled into a pensive look, "as for why I came to this little town all the way out here... well... I heard tale of a vicious monster that had terrorized the area for centuries. I was told it was a mere legend, but I wanted to see for myself whether or not the tale of the Headhunter was true."

My heart skipped a beat.

Of course that's what she came here for! I should've known it would be something like that! Why does it always come back to that horrible thing?!

"O-Oh, really?" I replied with a nervous smile, "and... I take it you didn't find anything?"

"Nothing," she answered bitterly. She gave me an oddly scrutinizing look, "from what I have heard, the beast is a shapeshifting nightmare that is nigh impossible to track down, and I hoped to challenge myself by being the one to finally slay it," she gave another long sigh and shifted her large leather satchel from one shoulder to the other, "I was, and am, confident in my tracking skills, but I have found nothing of the monster's whereabouts."

"I see," I replied somewhat quietly, "so you spent all your time trying to find out where the Headhunter was, but just ended up going around in circles?"

"More or less," Mauri crossed her arms and frowned, "perhaps it was just a legend after all, though I hesitate to admit it. Given how the townsfolk treated me when I first arrived, and their skittish behavior during the evening hours, I would think there was some grain of truth, but I have found nothing."

I looked away and towards the path ahead, biting my lip in indecision. We'd made it a good way into the farmlands, and I could see where they ended and the open plains began in the far distance. I looked up and saw that the sun was nearing ever closer to the horizon.

Should I just tell her? Would she even believe me if I did?

She'd already suspected I was hiding something, and had flat out commanded me to reveal what it was eventually. Would it really matter if I told her? I wasn't just making excuses when I'd told Darmund I hadn't wanted to talk about it. The memory of that night was still fresh in my mind, and it still made me shiver slightly whenever I thought too deeply about it all.

It had felt good to tell Rosalyn about it though...

I glanced over to Mauri, but quickly looked away when I saw that she was looking back at me suspiciously. There was always the possibility that if I told her about my magic and that I had an actual Spellblade, she'd attack me for it, but looking at her, that didn't seem likely.

Then again, it didn't seem likely that Rosalyn would try to poison me either.

"Something on your mind?" came Mauri's inquisitive voice, "am I boring you with my tale, Amethyst Sparkle?"

"What? No!" I exclaimed, waving a hand, "I'm sorry, I just... yeah, there is kind of something bothering me, but you don't need to worry about it," I coughed into my hand before giving the smaller woman my most convincing smile, "anyway, what were you saying?"

"I was going to ask how much you knew about Vale's war with Grynda," Mauri said after a moment, "if you are going to Ruvenbor, you will need to be both wary and knowledgeable of the subject."

"Oh... no, I don't really know all that much about it," I replied, relieved that she was moving on, "I read something about it awhile back, but the passage didn't really go into much detail. I do know that the king and the rest of Ruvenbor is on edge and worried about spies."

"On edge, yes that would describe the state of the city very well," Mauri replied with a nod, "the citizens are jumpy, the city is crawling with King Revnun's knights, and they are actively looking for spies," she spat to the side and grimaced in disgust, "many innocents have been thrown in jail or worse just by simply looking at a knight wrong."

"That's horrible!" I exclaimed, now much more unsure about going to the city, "isn't there some kind of due process involved when it comes to that sort of thing?"

"Not with the way the King has been acting lately," Mauri replied gravely, "until recently, Vale and Grynda have been locked in a stalemate where neither side has gained an advantage over the other, but the situation has since changed."

"How?" I asked, "what happened?"

"The country of Grynda lies far to the east of Vale, and sits on the opposite side of a mighty river that is much too wide and deep to forge," Mauri explained, "it stretches almost from one end of the continent to the other, and there are only two major bridges you can cross."

"Only two?" I asked, the gears turning in my head, "so... if Grynda and Vale are at war, then I'd imagine one or both nations would have some kind of blockade set up at both bridges."

"You are correct," Mauri replied, nodding in approval, "up until recently, Vale has had control over one bridge, and Grynda over the other, and each is blocked by heavily fortified gates on both sides, complete with battlements in case of a siege. The defense of all four gates are mighty, and neither army has managed to breach each other's gates. It's been that way ever since the war began in earnest a few years ago."

"And if you're implying that the stalemate's been broken, then that means one of the gates was finally taken down in a siege," I guessed, "if the king is this paranoid, I'm assuming it was Grynda's army that managed to break through?"

"Right again," the other woman replied grimly, "Grynda has gained a foothold in Vale's territory, and it is only a matter of time before they begin marching on Ruvenbor. They have already taken Flumaen, the largest port city in Vale, but for some reason they have not pressed forward with their invasion.

"I have heard from some of my friends in Ruvenbor that Grynda is content to hold the port city, and is bolstering its defenses against a counter siege by Vale," Mauri rubbed her chin thoughtfully, "the fact that the majority of the invading army hasn't made any attempt to continue their invasion beyond Flumaen is worrying, but the King has taken his suspicion and paranoia too far, I think."

It did sound strange that Grynda wouldn't press their advantage, and that they would put all their resources into one city, even if it was an important port city, but then again, I wasn't really big on military strategy, so I really couldn't say one way or the other about what this all meant for Vale and Ruvenbor in particular.

"How far is Flumaen from Ruvenbor?" I decided to ask, "how much time would they have before the other army arrived?"

"Flumaen is quite a distance from here, a little over a week and a half by foot if you keep to the road," Mauri replied after a moment's thought, "that's another reason why the king's behavior is so strange. I heard that his general has sent some of his best agents to scope out the situation in the port city, as well as to other towns and cities nearby, but other than that, there has been no move to retake the city."

"It sounds like the general is biding his time," I muttered, "waiting for Grynda to make another move maybe?"

"Who knows?" Mauri replied with a shrug, "some members of the guild have been hired to protect a few of the towns near Flumaen, and there have been Grynda soldiers spotted here and there, but they are few and far between."

"I heard from someone in town that Grynda was going to make some kind of big move soon," I said, remembering what Samson told me back in town hall, "do you know anything about that?"

"I have heard that there is to be a surprise attack on the capital. That is the big rumor making its way around Thatch," Mauri answered with a small frown, "but it is most likely just that—a rumor, and I would not put too much stock into it. There are all kinds of rumors like that popping up, but they have either been proven false, are highly unlikely to be true, or is most likely misinformation spread on purpose in order to cause panic amongst the populace."

"I guess that could be the case, but personally, I'd rather not rule out the possibility that some of those rumors could be true," I replied. Another thought came to me and I turned back to Mauri, "do you know if the Order is involved in any way? I know they primarily hunt monsters and demons and the like, but surely they have some kind of stake in all this?"

"You know, that is a good question," Mauri answered with a thoughtful hum, "honestly I am unsure as to what the Order of Nox Atra plans to do. The war has been going on for quite some time, but their members have not announced any plans to cooperate with the King's army. In fact, they have been largely silent on the subject of the war."

"Do you think they might remain a neutral party?" I asked, making a note to bring the matter up when, or if I reached the office in Ruvenbor, "is the organization even permitted to remain neutral in times of war?"

"The Order has gained enough power over the years to remain an autonomous organization," Mauri explained, "they have branches all over the world, so they don't fall under the liege of any one king or emperor," she smirked, "if every member of the Order here in Vale came together against Grynda, they would most likely rout the other country's entire army alone, without the aid of King Revnun's army."

I stared at the smaller woman in disbelief.

"Wow, that... that's insane," I muttered, "and that's just here in Vale."

"Ridiculous, is it not?" Mauri laughed, "but no, I doubt they will interfere in this war, and the Unyielding Blade is far too disorganized and its members too varied to be of any help as a whole.

"The King could certainly send someone to talk to Hrist and try to work out some kind of deal, but that woman would ask for nothing less than the King's entire fortune in return for the services of the entire guild, and I doubt he is that desperate yet."

"Hrist?" I asked, tilting my head in bemusement, "who's that? Another member of the guild?"

Though based on what she said about gathering the entire guild together...

"Oh, she is much more than that, my little Amethyst," Mauri replied, her grin widening, "Hrist Roedvin is the leader of the Unyielding Blade, and has been for many years. Not only is she one of the strongest warriors in the world right now, but she is also one of only two known wielders of an actual Spellblade."

"Is she really?" I asked, once more become all too aware of the weight of the sword on my back, "Rosalyn told me there were still some Spellblade users out there somewhere. I didn't think I'd hear about one so soon, though."

"Oh, yes. I may be a force to be reckoned with, but Hrist is in a world all her own," she sidled up next to me, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper, "and would you care to guess who the other Spellblade wielder is?"

The other wielder? Aside from me, I have no idea who else it could be except for maybe... wait... no, don't tell me...

"It wouldn't happen to be the current leader of the Order would it?" I guessed, already able to tell I was right by Mauri's widening grin, "it is, isn't it?"

"It is, indeed! Arx Daemal, the leader of the Order of Nox Atra and rumored descendant of Alrik the Hunter himself!" she danced away and skipped ahead slightly before turning to face me, "neither has faced one another in battle, but I have no doubt that he is the only one who could match Hrist in battle."

"Is that so?" I replied, somewhat less enthusiastic than the beaming woman in front of me, "it would certainly be something to see, that's for sure."

Though if he really is the descendant of Alrik, that might be something worth noting...

"It would!" she nearly squealed, "it would be a battle bards would sing about for ages to come!"

I raised an eyebrow at Mauri's exuberance.

I'm starting to wonder about her being four hundred years old. I'm not even fully convinced she isn't actually younger than me with how she's acting. Maybe she's just... has a thing for battles? I can't really see myself getting that excited about something, but to each their own I guess.

As we continued onward towards the plains, I spent the rest of our walk through the farmlands mulling over all the information I'd gained, all the while engaging in small talk with Mauri and leaning more about Vale and the people that lived here. In the end, I decided not to tell her about the Headhunter, at least not until I was ready.

I knew Darmund was right, and that she'd find out eventually, but for now I was content to leave things as they were. The whole situation regarding the war worried me, and somehow I knew I was going to get caught up in it in some way. The only thing I could do was hope I'd be ready to face whatever lie ahead by the time things took a turn for the worst.

Episode IV – The First Leg ~ Part II

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Being an apparent greenhorn when it came to 'roughing it', I fully expected to be hindered by a few things. I expected to be attacked along the way by monsters or bandits, but the trek was surprisingly uneventful, much to my relief. I expected to be completely exhausted by the time we'd moved off the beaten path and trekked all the way to the edge of the forest, but that was far from the case.

Neither Mauri nor I were winded in the slightest, even as we went about setting up camp for the night. The setting of the sun hadn't exactly changed the rather warm temperature very much, so we'd both built up a sheen of sweat, but other than that, and much to my surprise, I felt like I could easily walk another dozen miles or so.

Maybe it's because I was a little less human and a bit more equine in a past life?

I was of course joking, but the more I thought about it, the more I began to wonder whether or not that was actually the case. I'd been through some fairly strange experiences after all—who was to say that horse-like endurance hadn't carried over? If Mauri was to be believed about her age, she'd most likely been training her body for hundreds of years, and was probably already used to long treks across the country.

She probably had quite a bit of muscle built up under that armor and despite her small childish frame. With all the experience she had, it was no wonder she wasn't tired, but I was a different story altogether. I felt like I had no reason to be as fit as I was, and the more we walked, the more I wondered about it. It baffled me and made me feel like I was cheating somehow, though I didn't mention anything to Mauri about it.

In the end, I just decided to leave well enough alone and help Mauri with the camping equipment. It didn't take very long, as Mauri had decided to sleep out under the stars, so the only thing that really needed setting up were some rough looking mats, thick wool blankets, and a campfire. I personally thought it wasn't a good idea, given what I'd heard about the dangers of life outside the towns and cities.

There was also the matter of sanitation, bugs and the like, weather to worry about, and a number of other concerns I voiced to the smaller woman, but she insisted everything would be fine. I didn't like camping so close to the forest, even as small as it was, but agreed in the end, having to content myself with taking watch in shifts.

We hadn't been attacked yet, but that didn't mean we were in the clear. I had enough sense to realize that if anything were going to attack us, now would probably be the best time for it, and knowing that, I doubted I'd be sleeping well that night. Before setting up the mats, we'd gone a short distance into the forest to gather some firewood and again, to my surprise, came back completely unmolested by anything dangerous.

All throughout the relatively short time it took us to finish getting everything in order for the night, I was incredibly jumpy. It amused Mauri to no end, but I couldn't help it. My expectations of what lurk beyond the safety of the town had already been colored by the things I'd read and heard about.

While I was aware that I could probably bounce back from most wounds I received, I remembered that getting stabbed still hurt quite a bit, and wouldn't be at all an experience I'd want to repeat. I was certain I didn't want to go through any similar scenarios either if I could help it.

I still knew little about myself and what I could do, and I didn't think it was wise to simply rely on something I knew nothing about to keep me safe. We'd managed to find a large patch of ground devoid of any grass near the forest and it wasn't long before Mauri and I were sitting across from each other on opposite sides of a warm crackling fire.

Neither of us had stripped down to more comfortable clothing for the night, and probably wouldn't for the foreseeable future. I still had some other clothes I could change into, but Mauri had convinced me to sell some of the more flamboyant outfits Rosalyn had gotten for me. I felt guilty about it for awhile, and still did to some degree, but ultimately realized it might've been for the best given how we were traveling.

I watched Mauri with some curiosity as she rummaged around her bag. She looked back up at me for a moment, taking notice and giving a small shrug in turn before resuming her search.

"Normally this journey would not take too long, even on foot and even with our little detour into the forest," she explained, "but with Qaedis involved, it becomes a different matter altogether. In return for your permit, he may ask us to go out of our way to do something, perhaps far out of our way," she pulled out two apples and eyed them for a second, "I want to make sure we eat anything that might spoil along the way first, just in case."

With that, she tossed an apple over the fire and towards me before reaching back into the bag while I was fumbling to catch the fruit. Setting her own apple to the side, she pulled out a large lump of something wrapped in a soft, thin white cloth. She unfurled the cloth to reveal two loaves of baked bread.

"Picked these up from the bakery before we left," Mauri said, throwing a loaf my way, "keeps pretty well, and still tastes damn good even after sitting in my bag for a few hours."

Prepared this time around, I caught the bread in both hands and was immediately aware of just how soft the loaf still was. Mauri had indeed spoken the truth if the smell was anything to go by.

"I am assuming you brought your own provisions for a long trip, yes?" the other woman asked as shereached for the canteen she'd placed beside her, "things you need for a long trip? Dried meat, beans, water, some cookware and the like?"

"Yeah," I replied, pulling my own canteen from my belt, "I didn't really know what to expected once I left town, so I asked around and found out it was a good idea to bring food that wouldn't spoil," I grimaced slightly, "none of the stuff I got looked too appetizing to be honest."

"It is not supposed to be appetizing," Mauri chuckled, "it is supposed to keep you fed while you are on the road and far away from home, and believe me, the longer you are on the road, the better it tastes," she tipped back her canteen and drank deep before biting into her apple, "you will find the salted bacon starts to grow on you after awhile."

"We'll see about that," I muttered, relishing the taste of the bread. I took another look around the area outside our camp, and my eyes lingered on the shadow of the trees not so far away in the distance, "I still think we should've at least brought some tents or something."

"Oh?" Mauri replied, raising an eyebrow at me, "and why didn't you? You had plenty of time to in Thatch."

"I actually meant to, but with everything I was worrying about, I kind of... forgot," I answered with a heavy, regretful sigh, "and besides that, I'm already carrying a lot."

"Well there is no use whining about it now," Mauri concluded with a dismissive flick of her green locks, "what is done, is done. Best to worry about what you can help, rather than what you cannot, yes?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I responded without much enthusiasm, "at least it's not too cold out."

"Mm, there is that," Mauri agreed with a nod and a small mischievous smile, "though I would still be cautious. This kind of weather invites all sorts of nocturnal insects to crawl about. You might fall prey to beetles and mosquitoes and even the occasional spider. Be sure that none make their way into your bed tonight, eh?"

"Ugh!" I shuddered in revulsion, "that's not what I needed to hear right now, Mauri! I'm pretty sure I wasn't gonna get any sleep tonight, but now I know I'm not!"

But Mauri just laughed and waved my new worries away with a hand before taking a bite of her own bread.

"Relax, Sparkle," she said, still smiling in amusement at my reaction, "I am sure you will be just fine. The insects around this area are not poisonous, at least," she jerked a thumb towards the smallish forest behind her, "not until you get deeper into these trees anyway."

"Poison, huh?" I mumbled thoughtfully, frowning as something tugged at my memory. Whatever I was forgetting eluded me, but a sudden and unexpected wave of dread washed over me, making me shiver. I set my food and canteen aside and pulled at the hem of my tunic nervously, all the while staring into the fire, "...hey, Mauri?"

"Hm?" she'd also been staring pensively into the fire, and looked up with some concern when she saw the look on my face, "what is it? Something wrong?"

"Just how safe are we really?" I asked, looking up and staring into the woman's eyes, "I know I sound paranoid, and maybe I am... but I've... I'm not as ignorant or naive as you and Darmund might think," I hugged myself tightly and turned back to the fire, my eyes losing focus as terrible memories ran through my mind, "I've been through some... pretty bad experiences, and they always seem to happen when I think I'm in the clear."

"That often is the way of things, or so I have realized since leaving my homeland," Mauri admitted quietly, her troubled frown deepening as she watched me, "if living on my own and traveling this country alone all these years has taught me anything, it is that no place is truly safe, Amethyst," she sighed and flopped down onto her back, hands behind her head and her icy blue gaze pointed towards the starry sky above, "the only thing you can do is pray for the best and prepare for the worst."

I gave that some thought as I finished off my meager meal and stared quietly into the flickering, crackling blaze in front of me. I realized after some time that she was right. That was all I really could do for now, and worrying about it wasn't going to change anything. I knew it wouldn't, but still I sat there and ruminated on everything I'd been through since waking up in that empty white void.

I thought about what could've caused me to end up in that empty place, what that thing was that chased me, and why I ended up here of all places. I thought about the life I'd lived before arriving in this world—about what things might've been like as a pony, as the Princess of Friendship.

Even now, the very idea that I'd come from some fairytale land of friendship and harmony, and that I was a completely different creature altogether seemed absurd to think about. Then there was the fact that I couldn't say anything about it, that some kind of mysterious force was actively stopping me from speaking about my origins.

Too many mysteries and not nearly enough answers... but where do I even start? How did I even regain what little memories I have now?

It was all too much to think about at once, and I had to keep most of it to myself or risk sounding like a madwoman. Then again, I'd spoken to Rose about a lot of it, and she seemed to take it rather well, all things considered. It had felt good to confide in the old woman, and looking back on it, I didn't regret any of what I'd said in the slightest.

I looked from the fire to Mauri, still lying on her back and staring up at the sky with that same contemplative expression. I tentatively bit my lip and glanced down at the rune inscribed Spellblade I'd set down beside me.

How would she react if I told her what I'd told Rose? What would she do if she found out I was the one that killed the Headhunter, or that I could use magic? What if she knew this was a real Spellblade? What would she do then? Try to steal it? Kill me for it?

I turned back to Mauri.

I had the feeling the woman already suspected the authenticity of my sword, and she herself had said she knew there was more to me than I let on. Still though, she'd been content to let me keep my secrets for now, and even aside from that, she didn't really seem the type to stab me in the back—literally or figuratively.

You know better than anyone that looks can be deceiving though. You've been taught that painful lesson more than once in a very short amount of time.

"You have something on your mind."

I blinked and refocused my attention on Mauri. She was sitting up now, and returning my idle stare with an expectant raise of her brow.

"You have the look of one who has the world on their shoulders," she continued, crossing her legs and leaning forward, "the expression does not suit you, I think," she gave me a reassuring smile, "if you have something you would like to share, I am happy to listen, we have plenty of time to talk after all."

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

Just tell her! It worked out in the end with Rose, who's to say she won't take it the same? She might even be able to help you find some answers!

In that moment I wanted so badly to just tell Mauri the truth. On the surface, I felt for sure that she wouldn't betray me, that she was a trustworthy individual. I knew that once I started talking, it would be easy to continue, and I wanted more than anything to be the one to reach out a hand in trust and friendship.

The problem was that deep down, I didn't trust her.

I felt I couldn't afford to—not after what I'd already been through. I felt like there was too much to lose if she turned on me, and in truth, seeing her mischievous smile here in the flickering firelight sent involuntary shivers down my spine. I knew Mauri wasn't the thing I'd killed and left in the cabin up at Devil's Peak, but I couldn't help but be reminded of it when I saw that smile.

She wasn't the Headhunter—she couldn't be, but her smile, like everything else around me, still seemed a lot less friendly in the moonlight. I knew intellectually that in order to gain trust, I needed to be willing to give it, but right then, no matter how much I wanted to... I just couldn't, not now and not with something like this.

In the end, I shook my head and gave Mauri a sheepish chuckle and an apologetic smile.

"No, it's fine," I replied, grabbing my sword and rising to my feet, "sorry if I worried you. I do have a lot on my mind, but I'll be alright." I paused for a second before starting to strap my sword back on, "I'm probably not gonna be getting any sleep anytime soon, so I can take first watch."

Mauri watched me with an inscrutable look, then smiled one of her wide knowing smiles a moment later, making me incredibly uncomfortable in the process.

"Aaah, I know what this is," she practically purred, as she rose to her own feet, "you don't trust me, do you?"

I faltered with one of the straps of the scabbard in my surprise and the whole thing slipped off my back and fell to ground with a dull thud.

"W-What? No, I..." I quickly picked back up my sword and whipped around to face the still grinning woman making her way over to where I was, "I just figured since I was already nervous about sleeping out here I might as well—"

"I have had plenty more rest than you, and I will be the one to take the first watch," Mauri interjected, walking right up to me and leaning in close. She looked up at me, her frosty blue eyes twinkling in the light of the slowly dying fire, "despite what you say, you are tired, I can see it."

"No really, I'm—"

"I cannot force you to trust me, Sparkle," Mauri interjected, her eyes hardening and her tone becoming stern, "I do not know what ordeals you have been through, and I will not ask, but without even the smallest amount of faith, I can do nothing for you."

For a long, uncomfortable moment we stared into each other's eyes, my gaze nervous and uncertain, and hers firm and expectant. The moment soon passed however, and she snorted, turned on her heel, and moved back over to stand on the other side of the fire. She turned her back to me and stared out at the forest, hands on her hips.

"I told Darmund I would lead you to Ruvenbor, and I even agreed to accompany you on your other errand," she continued, her back still facing me, "but trust is a two way street as they say, and out of the two of us, I believe you have far more to hide than I do, little miss amnesiac."

She turned to give me a cold stare from over her shoulder and I found myself flinching back involuntarily.

"So tell me, Miss Sparkle... can I trust you?"

I was about to blurt out that she could—of course she could. I didn't have any intention of harming or stealing from her, but I stopped myself at the last moment and really thought about what she asked. To my shame and guilt, she was completely right and I knew it. I knew it, but I was so caught up in my own problems that I hadn't considered things from her point of view.

Looking at it that way now, I definitely seem like the more suspicious one... just like when I was with Jack. Nothing's really changed in that regard, has it?

"I would hate to do it, and I really do like you, Amethyst," Mauri continued with a heavy sigh. She turned to face me as she spoke and I winced at the disappointment in her expression, "but if this is going to be an ongoing problem, I can pack my things and leave you to your own journey."

"No... no I understand," I quietly replied as I dropped my sword to the ground next to my mat, "you're right, I'm sorry. I just... I'm just... scared, you know?"

I grimaced as I laid myself down on the mat and pulled the blanket closer. Mauri had been right, and I was getting tired, but that didn't stop me from worrying about what was out there, as well as wishing I'd remembered to bring a pillow of some sort. Nevertheless, I pushed aside my discomfort and turned to face Mauri from where I lay.

"Yes, it's true, I have my secrets, and I'm pretty sure you have yours, but you're right. It's like I said before, I won't get anywhere if I don't take any risks," I gave her a weak and probably unconvincing smile, "and since you're going out of your way to do all this for me, the least I could do is trust you to keep watch for the both of us for awhile while I get some sleep."

"Ah, now you speak sense, my little Amethyst," Mauri replied, cracking a wide, satisfied grin, "words well spoken. Granted you did not answer my original question, but I will let that slide. Whatever your secrets might be, I already knew you were one of the good ones from the start."

It may have been a trick of the firelight, but I thought I saw her smile faltered and a flicker of something else cross her face. Whatever it may have been though, it was gone in an instant and the smaller woman adjusted the scabbard hanging from her side before turning away and once more staring out at the trees that made up the small forest.

"I will not allow either of us to come to harm while I am on watch, so you need not worry, my little Amethyst," Mauri continued solemnly. She half turned to give me a confident smirk, "I will wake you once the third hour has passed. Until then, may the Nightmother bless you with pleasant dreams, Miss Sparkle."

"Um... yeah, thanks... same to you," I replied, unsure of what to say in response. My awkward half smile turned more genuine, "and thanks again for doing all of this for me, Mauri. I really do appreciate it."

"Just remember that not everyone and everything is out to get you, even if most things and people are," she replied with a wink, "do that, and I will forgive you for your horrible lack of faith in my good character."

I gave her an indulgent and partially apologetic smile at that—a smile that slowly slipped off my face as she turned away from me to watch for whatever might be lurking out there in the wilderness. For a long while, I simply laid there, watching Mauri go about her patrol around our meager camp as I tried to sleep.

I was tired, but as I expected, sleep itself didn't come easily. I hadn't felt this restless and nervous since I followed Rosalyn back to her house. I couldn't shake the feeling that something horrible would happen if I let myself fall asleep, so I stayed awake and ran through my memories, searching for something I knew was there but couldn't reach.

I always felt like I was missing something or forgetting something important, especially whenever night fell. As I had nothing else to do and sleep seemed out of reach, I resolved to try and search for that elusive 'something' that I was missing, all while keeping a discreet eye on Mauri as she returned to staring out at the trees.

In my mind I'd accepted the point she'd made, but deeper down, things weren't as simple as that, and the mistrust and fear were as strong as ever. I wasn't sure how long I stayed that way, but eventually my eyelids became too heavy to lift, and slid closed. My mind grew hazy with the promise of rest and my consciousness began to slip away. The soft pop and crack of the fire lulled me the rest of the way to subconsciousness and I was soon fast asleep.

In a flash, the darkness vanished and gave way to a blinding light. I blinked a few times, trying to get the spots out of my eyes, and when my vision finally cleared, my eyes widened and my mouth dropped open in horror. I took a staggering step back and my knees nearly buckled at the sight of the white nothingness splayed out before me. A familiar sense of despair began to well up in the pit of my stomach and my lip trembled as I whispered hoarsely.

"No... not again," I muttered numbly, "I escaped this place. I'm not supposed to be here anymore... I escaped. I'm free, this isn't real, not anymore. I made it out and this is some kind of dream... right? It has to be. It has to be..."

And indeed it is, child...

In an instant, the white void was rendered pitch black, just as if something or someone had sucked the light right out of existence. Frantic and wide eyed, I turned this way and that, trying to find the source of the all consuming and oddly familiar voice, but it seemed to come from everywhere at once and it was impossible for me to pinpoint the sound.

A false and empty world born of deep seated fear... the mere fabrication of a tortured mind and nothing more. Pay it no heed, Stella Sparkle... or should I call you Amethyst?

There was a strange chirping cough that echoed impossibly loud in the crushing silence. The sound brought with it vague memories of a dark shape in the shadows, but before I could make sense of it all, another brilliant flash of light momentarily banished the darkness, this one a brilliant golden in its glow. Once again I had to blink the spots out of my eyes, but the light remained, and I followed its source upward.

I wanted to scream, but my own voice caught in my throat and I couldn't. Bathing me in their glow were two massive orbs of golden light. I could see nothing beyond those glowing orbs—those piercing golden eyes, but I could feel the overbearing presence of the being they belonged to crushing me down. It all came rushing back to me, the identity of this towering monstrosity hidden in the darkness.

"Owlowiscious..."

The eyes shifted diagonally, giving the impression that the creature was tilting its head, perhaps lost in thought. After a few seconds it gave another loud chirping cough, that mocking laugh that seemed to say 'I know much more than you ever will'.

Yes, this is nothing but a dream, Amethyst Sparkle... and you cannot stay in this place, drowning in your fears. You have a job to do... a task to complete. You have to show them... show the world that you are something to fear, something to worship, something beyond what they will ever be.

It chuckled its odd chuckle.

Yes... it all starts here... embrace the poison, Amethyst Sparkle. Use it to free the so called 'demon' within you... use it to show them your power... I'll be watching, so please do your best not to disappoint me...

With that said, the glow faded entirely, and with it the overbearing presence. I was once more left alone in complete darkness, but it didn't last long before everything began to grow fuzzy and my head began to swim. Disorientation overwhelmed me and I felt myself falling.

I don't know how long I was falling in that utter blackness, but it felt like an eternity...

Then all at once, everything snapped back into focus as a sudden impact jerked my head to the side.

My cry of pain and surprise was quickly muffled as something grabbed my hair and viciously shoved some kind of cloth in my mouth, rendering my jaw locked into place and unable to do much other than give muffled grunts and cries. Terror, grogginess, confusion, and shock warred with each other in my mind for a few moments before I finally managed to start thinking somewhat clearly. What little I managed to deduce in the few seconds of consciousness sent my heart racing with horror and panic.

Even as I tried to blink the drowsiness out of my eyes so I could see properly, I could already tell something had gone horribly wrong. A sharp, stinging pain in my cheek told me I'd probably been slapped awake, and the foul tasting piece of cloth shoved in my mouth told me I'd been gagged.

Any attempt at movement was met with immediate resistance, as my limbs were all bound with what felt like rough and coarse, but thick and sturdy rope. With my arms, wrists, and legs tied, the only thing I managed to do was tip over and fall onto the cold earthen ground as whoever had a hold of my hair shove me away.

"Goddesses but ya sleep like th' dead," came a gruff, thickly accented male voice from somewhere above me, "damn talent is what that is. Wish I could sleep half that well."

As my vision finally cleared, I looked up to see a scruffy, lanky man crouched down, arms resting on his knees and peering down at me with an amused grin. He had a weather-beaten look about his tanned face, his short, greasy black hair and beard were unkempt, and his teeth were cracked and yellow.

The one thing that stood out to me in that moment however, were the color of his eyes. One iris was a soft hazel while the other was a deep green. The rudimentary and slightly rusty looking silver armor covering his shoulders and chest looked ill fitting over the ratty brown tunic beneath, but the sword shoved through his belt look plenty sharp enough.

"Yer a lot heavier'n ya look, ya know that?" he continued, reaching down and gently patting my still stinging cheek, "still, you bein' conked out like that made my job a whole lot easier in the long run, so no harm done I s'pose, eh?"

In my panic I tried to respond, to ask what happened, where I was, and who the man in front of me was, but all that came out was more muffled grunting and whining. I quickly gave up on the idea and instead looked away from the man to take in my current surroundings.

It looked like I was in a large camp located in a large clearing in the forest. It was still dark out, and a flickering orange glow somewhere behind me told me there was a fire blazing nearby. Behind the man, a few yards away, I could see a couple of decently sized, but worn looking tents propped up. Further back past the tents were the dark thicket of trees that lined the clearing.

Unable to make anything else out beyond those trees, I turned to look behind me. There was a battered looking pot hanging over the fire, and past that, a few more tents, but not much else. Altogether the camp looked as though it had been hastily set up and made to be taken down quickly should the need arise.

Looking around, I could see three others in the camp. A thin, nervous looking man with a clean shaven face and long brown hair was speaking to a broad, muscular woman in hushed tones over near one of the tents. It was a bit harder to make them out as far as they were from the only real source of light that was the fire, but I could see them well enough.

The woman had to be one of the biggest people I'd seen so far, at least two or three heads taller than me I would've imagined, and with twice as much bulk in her arms and legs. Despite the muscle however, there was most definitely a feminine curve to her frame. She had a curtain of dark red hair that fell down her face in long curls, and I could just make out an ugly looking scar on one cheek.

Both the man and woman wore the same rusty, worn armor as the man before me—though the woman's seemed a bit small on her and less of it covered the sleeveless black tunic she wore. The thin nervous looking man was practically wearing an entire suit of rusty armor, with only a hint of a dirty white, long sleeve cotton shirt and dark brown trousers underneath.

Both had weapons, the woman shouldering a hefty broadsword and the man holding a rifle not dissimilar to my own. He was holding onto the thing for dear life, clutching it close to his chest as though it were his most prized possession.

"Oh come off it, Del. If it weren't for Haelda, you wouldn'ta been able to even lift the bitch," came another voice, the feminine lilt at odds with the coarse language, "the way she tells it, you were huffin' and puffin' the whole way back, even with her help."

Sitting cross legged in front of the fire, opposite me and the man with the different colored eyes was the woman who'd spoken. Unlike everyone else, she wore no armor over her short sleeve blouse and corset. Her thick wool leggings were equally unadorned, though both her gloves and boots did have a small amount of armor plating.

Like me, she wore both a blade and a rifle, with the rifle being slung across her back and the sword—a simple shortsword by the looks of it—sheathed and hitched to her belt at the lower back. Out of the group of would be kidnappers, she looked the most out of place.

In a word, the woman was beautiful.

Her skin was fair and there didn't seem to be a speck of dirt on her or a hair out of place. Her platinum blonde hair hung to one side in a loose but stylish braid tied off with a small silvery ring of metal near the bottom. Her golden yellow eyes remained intensely fixed on a familiar object cradled in her gloved hands.

My eyes widened further as I noticed what she was examining so closely. With a thoughtful frown, the woman held up my Spellblade, scabbard and all, trying to get a better look at it in the firelight. It was only then that I realized the only thing I had left on me were the clothes on my back, and though I couldn't see it that well, I had the suspicion the rifle the woman wore was my own as well.

"Ah, what does it matter anyhow?" the man continued, looking away from me to glare at the blonde woman, "we got 'er here without any problems didn't we? Like I said, no harm done."

"Aye, true enough," the women replied, resting my sword on her lap and finally turning to face the man with a disapproving scowl, "but it might be next time you aren't so lucky," she leaned forward, a dangerous glint in her eye, "it might be you get stabbed in the ass while you're draggin' your heels. Think about that when you feel like havin' a rest in the middle of a job, eh?"

I glanced between the two, desperately trying to work out just what had happened and how it had come to this. Apparently I'd been dragged off into the forest while I was asleep, but how had all of that not woken me up? I wasn't that heavy of a sleeper, or so I thought.

No, something definitely isn't right. I'm pretty sure anyone would've woken up if they were being dragged off like that. More importantly though, where was Mauri? Where is Mauri?

Indeed the small woman was nowhere to be seen, much to my dismay. The fact that I'd been taken so easily and that she wasn't here stirred up an unpleasant mix of emotions, not the least of which was hurt, anger, and a horrible sense of betrayal. The worry was there, but it was stifled by the sting of the last words of assurance she'd spoken before I'd fallen asleep. An indignant snort jolted me from my grim thoughts and I looked up to see the lanky man rising to his feet.

"Bah, what's done is done," he grumbled, brushing the dirt off his trousers and turning to walk off towards one of the tents, "the purple cow is finally awake at any rate. She's all yours now."

With that he stomped off, leaving me and the woman alone by the fire. I watched him go for a moment before the sound of the woman's voice brought my attention back to her.

"Crazy world, isn't it?" she asked, watching me with a small smirk, "one minute, you're asleep, safe and sound, thinking everything is peachy keen, and the next... well..." her smirk widened into a grin and she idly stroked a hand across the indigo colored wood of the Spellblade's scabbard, "...anything could happen, really. Such is the way of things out here in the wilderness."

I didn't say anything in response, mostly because I couldn't with the cloth in my mouth. Instead I settled for giving the woman a weak glare that probably did little to mask my fear and uncertainty of what was to come. The woman tapped a finger against the scabbard, her lips pursed and her brow furrowed in thought as she looked at me.

A moment later she let out a tired sigh, set my sword to the side, and stood up before walking around the fire and towards me. Her gait was slow and deliberate, the walk of someone who knew they were in control.

"Alright, enough beating around the bush," she said, squatting down in front of me the same as the man before, "here's what's gonna happen," she poked me in the nose and I flinched back. She smiled at that and continued, "I'm gonna remove that cloth from your mouth, and you're gonna answer a few questions for me while we wait for the rest of my boys to get back."

She reached down, and with a practiced flick of her wrist and slipped a wicked looking knife out of a thin holster strapped to one of her thighs and tapped the flat of the blade against my temple, the coldness of the steel making me wince. All the while, that cruel smile never left her face as she spoke.

"If you scream for help or refuse to answer, I start cutting, and I'm pretty sure that ain't high on the list of things you want happening to that pretty face of yours."

Episode IV – The First Leg ~ Part III

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I'd come up with several horrible scenarios of what could happen to me while Mauri and I had traveled the road, but despite that I still wasn't prepared for a situation like this—at least not so soon. Somewhere below the fear, I wasn't at all surprised that this had happened really. I should've expected it and I felt as though I had no one to blame but myself.

But that's not true is it? I have someone else to blame as well, don't I?

No.

I wanted to blame Mauri, and to a certain extent I definitely did, but I didn't know the whole situation yet. For all I knew, they could've attack and killed her before kidnapping me. There was no way of knowing for certain with the position that I was in, though the woman who stood over me mentioned something about another group coming back.

It wasn't a very heartening prospect, and admittedly it made my worry for Mauri all that much stronger despite the bitterness I felt for what happened to me on her watch. I didn't really have any time to dwell on the matter as the dirty cloth was yanked from my mouth by the blonde haired woman.

"Okay, let's get this chat over with, shall we?" the woman began, ignoring my coughing and sputtering, "we don't have all night and I have better things to do."

I spat a couple of times, trying to get the foul taste out of my mouth, but it wouldn't leave completely. I gave up and looked at the blonde woman, who looked back with a patient smile despite her words. I considered for a moment what to say as I watched her; gave a slight tug at the ropes binding my hands behind my back and found them tight and unyielding, then spat one more time and swallowed nervously.

Might as well do as she says for now. If things get more dangerous than they are now, I can try to fight, but I'd really rather not considering I don't really know how...

"So... so what do you want to know?" I croaked out, my jaw still sore and my mouth somewhat dry from being forced open by the cloth, "a-and if you don't mind me asking, who—gah!"

The woman made it clear my questions weren't appreciated with a sharp and sudden slap across the face, though it didn't hurt nearly as much as the last one had. I winced and my head jerked to the side from the impact, but really it just took me by surprise more than anything. I blinked a few times and looked back to see the woman with that same patient, almost playful smile.

"I know you're curious about your situation, but I'll be the only one asking questions for now," she considered me for a moment before giving a careless shrug, "though I guess you need something to call me, eh?" she tossed her loose braid of hair and sighed as if the whole thing was one big nuisance, "name's Havik Kultaina, you can just call me Havik."

She gestured in the general direction of the others milling around the camp and I followed her arm. The lanky man who I'd first seen when I woke up was nowhere to be found, most likely having gone into one of the tents at some point.

The tall, muscular woman and thin but heavily armored man were now watching me and Havik from where they stood. The large woman eyed me warily and the man licked his lips nervously, constantly shifting his watery eyes from me to Havik to some point off in the distance.

"The man you saw before with the strange eyes is Del; the less said about him, the better in my opinion," Havik continued, catching my attention once again, "the redhead over there is Haelda, strongest damn woman I ever met. The one who looks like he's about to piss himself is Calder," she turned to the man in question and frowned before calling out, "oi, Calder! The hell's got you so damn spooked now?"

The man jumped at the sound of his name, and gave a stuttering, barely audible response. Haelda frowned, shook her head and turned to Havik.

"He believes the others take too long," she replied. Her voice was loud, but there was a surprising softness in the thick accent she spoke, "says he can hear ominous wails or some such; whispered voices in the trees that speak of coming death, but I hear nothing," she turned and looked at the man with thinly veiled disdain, "he speaks more of his spiritual nonsense. Do not mind him, Goszpha."

"It's true! Dark and terrible voices from the depths of Tartarus speak to me!" Calder suddenly snapped in a high, reedy voice. His eyes were wide and fearful as he turned and stabbed a finger in my direction, "ever since she was dragged into our camp I could hear them! They say she's been tainted! They say she carries a horrifying curse! A hunger for—"

"Shut your Goddesses damned mouth, you raving zealot!" Havik snarled at Calder, "or by my ancestors I swear I will come over there, tear off that armor and gut you like the cowardly pig you are! Understand?"

The poor man flapped his mouth silently for a few short moments, his eyes darting from Havik to me, then back to Havik. He clamped his mouth shut, swallowed and gave a quick, jerky nod. He gave me one last fearful look and slunk off into the tent behind him, his armor clanking loudly with each step. Haelda shook her head again, wedged her sword into the ground blade first, and leaned on the hilt as she returned to watching Havik and I with a passive, almost bored expression.

"I don't know why I bothered dragging him along," Havik muttered, staring after the armored man with a frown, "can't fight worth a shit and all he does is preach and rant about unseen devils."

I barely registered the woman's words, busy as I was gaping open mouthed at where Calder once stood. His words ran through my head and the implications sent a chill down my spine. The atmosphere around me suddenly felt much colder than it had a moment ago despite me sitting so close to the fire.

A terrible curse? And what did he mean by 'hunger'? A hunger for what? He said I was tainted... what does that—

"Sorry 'bout that," Havik sighed in annoyance. She turned back to me with a helpless shrug, "Calder's a man of... intense faith you see. Not sure why he chose to join a group of bandits of all things, or why I let him, but he thinks he can save our souls or some such rot."

Though she'd thoroughly dismissed Calder's worries, I noticed Havik cast a concerned glance out towards the trees anyway. It didn't last long, and a brief moment later she returned her attention to me and smiled her mocking smile.

"Anyhow, while we're on the subject of introductions, what do they call you, missy? Can't say I've ever seen your like around these parts—or anywhere in Vale for that matter," she leaned forward with a look of profound interest, "you an outsider from across the sea?"

I struggled for a response to that, knowing full well how ridiculous the truth would sound, but unable to come up with a believable lie. I'd read up on some of the other locations around the world and a bit about the various tribes, races and cultures, but nothing stuck out in my mind at that moment.

"My name is... Amethyst Sparkle, I... I don't really... remember where I'm from," I replied lamely, but honestly for the most part, "I'm... I was trying to find the answer to that question before you... well..."

"Ah, so that's it then," Havik replied with an understanding nod and pitying smile, "a poor young maiden forced to travel the world on a journey to find her past, is it?" she laughed a beautiful, haunting, mocking laugh, "how romantic! Right out of a Goddesses damned storybook!"

I didn't really know how to react to her laughter, so I frowned and stayed silent. The laughter died out a moment later and she shook her head before scowling at me.

"Seriously? Amethyst Sparkle? Amnesia?" she snorted, "a load of shit is what that is. I ain't no fool, girl, so you'd best try again before I draw a red line across that face of yours, you hear me?"

"I really don't know!" I cried, watching the woman idly spin her knife around by a small metal loop at the bottom of the hilt, "Amethyst isn't my real name. Mauri gave it to me. Before that I was going by Stella, but that isn't it either! The only thing I know was that at least part of my real name was Sparkle. Other than that... I don't know!"

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at me, I tried to look as earnest as possible, which wasn't very hard to do with the woman flipping that knife around and around. She hummed in thought; her narrowed eyes and pursed lips combined with the twirling knife made it look as though she was trying to decide how large a piece she wanted to carve out of a steak.

After a long, heart pounding minute, she shrugged and sheathed the knife in its holster. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, silently thanking whatever Goddesses these people worshiped as Havik spoke again.

"Alright fine," she began, "I don't quite buy it, but it's not really that important and there's other more important questions to ask," she gave me a level look, "...like what you and the green haired bitch were doing camping out in front of this forest."

Unnecessary name calling aside, I made note of the fact that the woman seemed to be aware of Mauri. In hindsight that seemed obvious considering my current circumstances, but what had happened to Mauri? Did these men Havik mentioned ambush her and drag me away while she was distracted?

That's... actually pretty likely now that I think about it, and if Mauri is as good with a sword as I've been told, it's no wonder the rest of Havik's group is taking so long to get back. Hopefully she's okay...

The thought did a great deal to ease the bitterness I'd felt towards Mauri for my kidnapping, but that still left the worry, which now had only gotten worse. Havik's question at least was easy enough to answer, so I focused on that for the time being.

"We—Mauri and I—we came to see Qaedis the Seeker," I explained, "I was told he lived in a mansion somewhere in the forest and that he could get me what I needed... for a price."

"Fair enough," Havik replied with a single nod, "that old man certainly does live out here somewhere," she smirked, "would you believe the lot of us had a similar notion? Why, that's exactly why we're camped out here, you see. That old bastard owes me and I aim to collect," her eyes lit up suddenly, "ah, but that brings me to my final question!"

I watched with a fair amount of dread as Havik jumped up and walked back around the flickering fire to retrieve my sword. I'd known she would bring the Spellblade up at some point, and while it was easy enough to just say it was a fake, I had a feeling she'd take it either way. This was exactly what Darmund had warned me about but again, I hadn't expected to run into this situation so soon in my journey.

My horrible luck continues...

"Del and Haelda didn't... quite manage to collect the rest of your stuff when we nabbed you," Havik grunted as she picked up my sword and returned to my side of the fire. She plopped back down onto the ground and set the blade in her lap with a weary sigh, "...but if this is what I think it is, then I couldn't give a shit less what they left behind. So tell me, Amethyst Sparkle, is this what I think it is?"

She held up the oaken scabbard by one strap as if to present it to me and smiled. I looked at it, feeling a sudden, almost overwhelming urge to break free of my restraints and take it back by any means necessary. My arms tensed behind my back and I felt the magic gather within me, but I swallowed and held myself in check with an effort.

I could probably do it too if I tried, but...

My gaze briefly flicked towards Haelda standing by the tent and watching over us like some dark and menacing sentinel. I thought about the other two men in the tents and Havik herself. I thought about what would happen if I did decide to break free and fight my way out.

I might be built for it, but I'm no warrior... not really. If it was Havik alone I could definitely do something about this, but would my magic be enough for all four? Could I react fast enough? If I attacked Havik who knows what she'd do, and that red haired woman would probably be on me in an instant. The thin one looks like a coward, but he has a rifle and I don't know if I'm fast enough to stop a bullet with my telekinesis. I don't know how complete my regeneration is or if I even still have it, but it maybe it's better to try while there's still only four of them?

More and more of these thoughts swirled about in my head as I turned my nervous gaze back to Havik and the sword. Apparently she'd noticed my discomfort, because she lowered the scabbard back down, narrowed her eyes and scowled.

"It wouldn't be smart of you to act on whatever you're cooking up in that thick head of yours, missy," Havik hissed, "I'm warning you right now, it won't end well for you," she raised the sword back up, "why don't you tell me more about this and maybe we can work something out regarding your release, eh? How about it? Sound good?"

My mouth ran dry and I swallowed again.

"I..."

I was suddenly very aware of my pounding heart and the difficulty I had forming a sentence. My eyes were glued to the sword in Havik's hand, and that overwhelming desire to attack her and take it back flared up again. It was as though the urge wouldn't let me go now that it had ahold of me.

What's going on? What's wrong with me? It's almost like back when I was at Rosalyn's house except...

"I... that sword is... i-it's—nngh..."

I lurched forward slightly, my head swimming and the world spinning crazily for a brief instant.

Havik leaned back a fraction before slowly lowering the blade and frowning at me. Nearby I could almost feel Haelda tensing up from over where she stood. I chanced another glance in her direction and sure enough, her eyes had narrowed dangerously and the grip on her sword had tightened considerably as she stared back.

I could feel a headache coming on and there was a strange coldness beginning to crawl its way down my spine. I turned back to the sword and shivered involuntarily. My breath began to quicken and my vision seemed to narrow until all I could see was that indigo colored scabbard.

My arms and legs shifted with growing restlessness as I thought about the odd pink and violet blade inside that sheath. Havik was saying something, but I could scarcely hear her above the sound of blood pumping in my ears. Something strange was happening, that much I knew for certain, but I found it harder and harder to care about anything else other than that blade.

A bright flash of metal glinted in the firelight somewhere in my vision and a sudden searing pain across my cheek made me jerk back with a startled cry.

The world snapped back into focus in an instant.

I winced and looked up to see Havik crouched forward, her face grim and wary. I thought I could even see a trace of fear in her golden eyes, like she knew just as well as I did that something was wrong—that something was about to change, and maybe not for the better. My wide eyes followed the path of her outstretched arm down to the knife in her hand. The tip of the blade shone bright red with what I could only assume was blood.

My blood...

I could feel it now, the stinging pain enveloping the side of my face. I would've reached up to touch my cheek had it not been for the rope binding my hands. As it was, I could feel something wet and warm trickle down my cheek and splat against the top of my thigh. Almost as if in a trance, I slowly looked down to see a small spot of red blood on my leggings, oddly bright in the darkness.

That cold sensation running down my spine began to spread throughout my body as I watched more bright red spots appear. The pain began to fade, but the flow of blood didn't cease, nor did I have any desire to look away. There was a horrible sort of anticipation building up within me. I thought I could hear a voice somewhere, whispering something in my ear, but I couldn't be sure I'd heard anything at all.

The world was beginning to slip away again and the only thing that mattered this time was the steady drip of my own precious life blood hitting my leg. The bright red color seemed to leak away with each drop, growing dimmer and dimmer until it was a murky grey. Then I heard a soft hiss and felt a warm tingling in my cheek before the dripping ceased.

"No... not my blood," I heard myself mutter absently, "not my blood..."

My head grew fuzzy and it became harder to think. I had no idea why I'd said those words, but they felt right. This wasn't my blood, I knew that for a fact, but I didn't know why or how. Something was wrong... very wrong, but at that moment I couldn't put my finger on just what it was.

"Hungry," I heard myself grumble absently, "h-hungryyyy..."

And I was hungry.

A deep clawing hunger began to gnaw at me, but it wasn't any normal hunger and I knew it. Instinctively I knew it wasn't the kind of hunger that could be sated with the sort of food that could be digested. This was something else; a dark, primal hunger for something I couldn't quite grasp with my own two hands.

Or maybe you could...

I don't know if I'd thought it, said it aloud, or if it was that whisper of a whisper that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. It was getting louder though, that much was clear. I could hear it over the other, distant, less important voices that muttered and shouted and howled with horror, with anger, with fear, with—

CRACK!

I gave a howl of my own as something ripped through my right arm and sent waves of white hot agony washing up and down the whole limb. This time the pain only lasted a few moments, but it did bring me some clarity, if only a little at least. Then I looked down and saw that same grey tar-like substance ooze out of what should've been a bloody hole in my forearm.

I watched fascinated as a shiny, bronze bullet slowly pushed its way out of my arm, along with even more grey tar. It eventually popped out and clattered to the ground and once it was out, the wound began to hiss and bubble and shrink. The rapid trickle of thick grey tar grew thinner and thinner until it halted altogether.

Someone had shot me, and in a matter of seconds, the wound had completely closed on its own.

I looked from the smooth, unbroken skin on my forearm to where Havik had been crouched before me and blinked. At some point she'd retreated several paces away from the fire and now had her shortsword drawn. She'd taken some sort of lowered stance; her legs spread at an angle and one arm outstretched and holding the blade tight.

Her expression was just as wary as before, and I could see the uncertainty clear as the night sky now, but there was also a certain preparedness—a sureness of self in the way she held her sword. She was ready to strike at a moment's notice should the need arise and had full confidence in her ability to wield a blade.

When did she get over there?

"I knew it... I knew it..." someone muttered in a shaky, reedy voice, "she's been tainted... a poison... a curse that'll be the death of us all. The voices told me such a thing would come to pass. None of you listened, but I heard it... and now... now it's too late... too late.."

I slowly turned to see Calder standing a little ways behind Haelda. The man was visibly shaking, his armor rattling slightly and the raised rifle unsteady in his trembling hands. We locked eyes briefly and I felt a strange twinge of something at the cold fear on his face.

Was it surprise? Guilt? Shock? Joy? Amusement? Satisfaction? Or maybe my own fear reflected back at me?

It could've been all of those things, or it could've been none of them, I had no idea at that moment. Haelda's expression more or less matched that of Havik though with less uncertainty and far more grim resolve. Like Havik, she held herself in a low stance, but both arms were held out before her, each hand gripped around the hilt of her massive broadsword.

And then there was me, still sitting bound and helpless in front of the fire. Other than Calder's fearful mutterings and desperate whispered prayers to the Goddesses, no one else spoke a word, and in that silence the strange hunger began to grow once again. It started to push the world around me back out, and I felt myself squirm with increasing agitation, itching to be unbound and free to...

Free to what exactly? Feed?

Feed... kill... hurt... slaughter... break... maim... feed... rend... FEED...

My eyes fell to the abandoned Spellblade a short distance away and I stared at it. I heard Havik's sharp intake of breath but ignored it and focused on that soft, alluring whisper. A soft groan escaped my lips and I gave a pleasant shudder at the bitter cold coursing through my veins, wrapping around my heart, my lungs, my brain.

Stab... rip... slash... massacre... raze... slaughter... feed... FEED...

Somewhere far, far away, I felt the ropes binding my arms, legs, and wrists loosen and fall to the ground. There was a wordless shout of fear off to the side somewhere and the crack of another gunshot rang out. I felt something whiz past my nose, but I only had eyes for the weapon before me.

I reached out a hand, tentative at first but with growing urgency as the strange hunger began to overwhelm me. In that moment I'd never needed anything more badly in my life than to get my hands on that scabbard and the blade within. Just a bit more and I'd—

An animalistic roar ripped through the night, freezing my already cold blood. The crunch of quick and heavy footsteps pounding against the dirt filled my ears and I whipped around just in time to catch a glimpse of crimson hair in the orange glow of the fire; the silver gleam of a pauldron and the bright flash of sharpened metal bearing down on me.

My body acted before my mind could process what was happening, but that wasn't enough to completely save me. I ducked and rolled to one side, but felt something cold, hard and sharp bite into my leg as I did so. The burning pain was gone by the time I'd clumsily lifted myself onto my hands and knees, the sensation replaced by the soft hiss and bubble of mending skin.

I looked up and saw Haelda—her teeth grit, her bright green eyes blazing, her entire face contorted into a furious snarl. As I looked into those eyes, I was reminded of some vicious wolf or ferocious bear, eager to tear into its prey.

I found myself laughing openly at the thought.

The hulking woman growled, raised her sword and charged again but that only made my toothy grin grow all the wider. I knew something she didn't know and the whispers told me to share that secret with Haelda—with all of them. No more hiding what I could do, no more cowering and pretending like I was some normal creature when I clearly wasn't.

The grey tar pulsing in my veins and the all consuming hunger wouldn't allow it, not anymore. Now was the time for action, now was the time to show them something strange and wonderful and horrifying, now was the time to scratch that incessant itch, to sate that ravenous hunger.

It was like I was in some beautiful dream.

Haelda closed the distance between us in a matter of seconds, her blade raised high and another war cry erupting from her throat. I watched that blade fall, all the force of a speeding cannonball behind the swing. It was an unavoidable, unblockable blow that promised to split my head open and then some.

I watched that blade catch in the air mere inches from my face; smiled as both the sword and its wielder trembled with the effort of continuing its descent. For all of Haelda's grunts and growls and strength and resolve to cut my life short, the sword wouldn't move an inch further.

The bright magenta glow around the sword held it fast, its grip as immovable as a mountain.

"Let go of the sword, Haelda," I whispered sweetly. I raised a glowing hand and gave the blade a slight telekinetic tug, startling Haelda in the process. Her grip on the sword redoubled and I laughed, "stop being stubborn and just let go! It's not yours anymore!"

My voice sounded odd in my own ears, but that didn't matter in the slightest. The only thing that mattered was getting my hands on a weapon—any weapon. It would've been far too easy to simply pop her head like a grape with magic, but I wanted something more personal than that. I wanted a more visceral experience, and for that, I needed steel.

My own sword was lying only a short distance away, but I'd gotten hold of a perfectly good blade already. I tugged at the broadsword again, but the stubborn redhead wouldn't let it go. I narrowed my eyes and frowned at the woman, all mirth bleeding away and annoyance taking its place.

"Alright, if that's what you want..."

"Haelda, behind you!"

Haelda glanced sideways at the sound of Havik's warning, but it was far too late. In that same instant I wrapped the hilt of the Spellblade in my magic and yanked it out of its sheath. Like a magnet, it shot through the air and into one of my waiting hands.

Just the feel of the soft silken grip was enough to send another pleasant tingle down my spine. I started to rise to my feet, blade held out and back as if to swing a horizontal strike. Haelda saw this and—most likely by some instinct honed in battle or perhaps general self-preservation—finally let go of her own sword and leapt away.

With a flick of my wrist I sent the broadsword racing after her and shivered in delight at the satisfying squelch it made as it sank hilt deep into her stomach. I heard Havik cry out, but I only had ears for the choked gurgled bubbling its way out of Haelda's mouth. She stumbled back and grabbed weakly at the hilt sticking out of her, her eyes never leaving mine.

It sounded as though she was trying to say something, but all that came out was a wet cough and a small gout of blood. It dribbled out of her mouth and down her chin before hitting the ground below with a soft plat. Somewhere deep down there was small twinge of horror at what I'd just done, but it was buried beneath the ecstasy of impaling Haelda with her own sword.

That had been immensely satisfying, magic or no, but it still wasn't enough.

"Not enough..." I whispered, my voice hoarse with some dark and terrible emotion, "still hungry..."

I slashed a hand through the air and the blade in Haelda's stomach moved with me, yanking the fatally wounded warrior sideways. Another, stronger pull and the sword ripped itself out of her stomach. She toppled over to one side, hit the ground with a heavy thud, clutched at the open gash in her stomach and rolled about in silent agony for a moment or two, then went still. Silent.

Dead.

Yes... make them bleed... take everything from them... everything...

The voice was a soothing balm on my ears and I was all too happy to let it guide my every action. I let the bloody broadsword drop to the ground and turned my attention to ratty looking man who'd just stepped out of one of the tents. His different colored eyes were wide with disbelief, his sword half drawn, but I didn't give him the chance to prepare.

He cried out in surprise as the blade was torn from his fumbling hands and tossed harmlessly into the trees. I raised my hand to grab the man himself, but was distracted by a shriek of terror. I turned to see Calder throw down his rifle and make a break for it, stumbling away clumsily in his heavy armor. In his haste to get away he tripped and landed face first into the dirt.

I couldn't help but laugh again as I watched him scramble to his feet and attempt to take off once more. Deciding I was done with magic for the moment, I took off after him, a toothy grin on my face and cold blooded murder in my thoughts. He turned and gave another shriek as he saw me closing in, sword raised and giggling like a possessed child.

"No... no!" he half whimpered, half shouted, "Demon! Devil! Goddesses save me from this—"

The Spellblade whistled through the air and smashed into his back with a dull metallic crunch, caving in his armor and sending him sprawling across the ground. It was a precise strike meant to cripple, and cripple it did. Calder lay motionless where he fell, whimpering and unable to move from the shock of the blow.

I walked up to his prone form and kicked him over onto his back. He grunted and gasped and flailed one arm protectively in front of his face while trying to drag himself away from me with the other. It was really all he could do with a broken spine, but in all that armor, he and I both knew he wouldn't make it very far.

"N-No please wait, wait!" he begged, his eyes wide and tearful, "by the Goddesses if there's any humanity left in you, please spare me! I-I'm not a good man, I know that, b-but... but I've always been faithful! I've tried to set these sinners on the right path! Please, I—no! No don—"

I stomped down again and again and again on the man's face with every bit of my weight until I heard the tell-tale crunch of bone giving way beneath the sole of my boot. I stomped a few more times for good measure, chuckling at his silly pleas for mercy all the while.

Humanity?

I wasn't even human to begin with, and yet I was far from what I'd been in a past life. I didn't know what I was anymore, and right then, I didn't care. The 'hows' and 'whys' of it didn't matter in the face of the pleasure and hunger. I just had to keep feeding until I was fully satisfied and everything else would work itself out.

CRACK!

I grunted and stumbled forward and away from Calder's corpse as something hit my shoulder blade. Another crack and another impact, this one hitting my leg and causing me to crumple down to one knee. The pain was immense, but just as short lived as before. Just like last time, the bullets popped out of my skin and the wounds hissed, bubbled, and closed.

I whipped around angrily and saw that Del had retrieved Calder's rifle. He had it aimed at me, but I had something far better than a rifle at my disposal. With a furious growl I raised a glowing hand and tore the rifle away just like the sword before it. He stumbled a few steps, nearly tripped, caught himself at the last moment.

Before he could get too comfortable on his feet I bashed the rifle into the side of his head. He staggered sideways, but I didn't let him fall. I dropped the rifle and grabbed him instead, pulling him screaming towards me and plunging my Spellblade into his gut once he was close enough.

The flat edge at the top of the blade in no way hampered it from sinking effortlessly into the soft flesh below his chestplate. I ripped it out of his floating body and stabbed it back in once, twice, then a third time before pulling it back out, releasing my magic and letting his bloody punctured corpse flop bonelessly to the ground.

As I pushed myself back up I heard a quiet, but still clearly audible gurgle from the man I thought was dead. Del gave a choked gasp, blood bubbling up and leaking out from his mouth. I looked down at him and he looked back up at me, his glossy green and hazel eyes staring into mine with pain, fear and...

Accusation? Hatred?

I suddenly felt very ill, but fought it back long enough to let out a savage cry and slam the blade of my sword down onto his face. The strength of the blow split his skull clean in half and silenced the lanky man for good. I stood there for several seconds, breathing hard and trying to think past the sudden fog that clouded my mind.

No... NO! It's not over yet! There's still more fun to be had... more blood to be shed... feed your bloodlust... kill your enemies... make them suffer! BLEED THEM DRY!

But even the urgent, angry whispers weren't enough to keep me standing. I staggered forward and fell to my knees. My vision swam and my body grew weaker and weaker. The Spellblade fell from my hand, but I could no longer muster the energy to pick it back up.

"Tired... can't..."

My eyes widened and I doubled over, murky grey bile spilling from my mouth and hitting the ground with a wet splat. As I sat there retching violently, I could hear the whispers growing softer and softer in my mind.

No! The golden eyed woman yet lives! She fears you! She hates you! You are vulnerable! She will kill you! She comes even now! You must... you can't... destined...

I groaned and coughed and spat out the last of the nasty grey bile. I tried to stand but found I was too weak; it was all I could do to remain propped up on my shaking hands and knees. The sound of slow, reluctant footsteps caught my attention and I sluggishly raised my head.

My breath caught in my throat and my heart skipped a beat as I spotted the silhouetted form of Havik slowly making her way towards me. Her face was shrouded in shadow but I could guess her intentions by the shortsword gripped tightly in one hand.

"You..."

I could hear the fear and fury, both icy cold in that shaky whisper and it made my stomach twist painfully. Images of the atrocities I'd just committed flashed vividly through my mind and it took everything I had to not vomit again.

Why? Why did I do that? Why did I...

Another image flashed across my mind, that of a dark shape with bright glowing orbs of brilliant gold. My eyes widened in horrified realization and I looked down at the dark grey sick I'd made below me.

Poison... it was the poison... the voices... the whispers—

My thoughts were shattered and I saw stars as Havik's boot smashed into my face and sent me rolling off to one side. Before I had time to recover I felt the cold sting of a blade sink into my unprotected chest. A scream caught in my throat as the thick taste of copper replaced the air in my throat.

It was agony unlike anything I'd ever experienced, and it only got worse when the blade pulled out and stabbed back in. Then once more and again and again. My mind had gone blank with pain, my vision darkened, and all I could do was lie there and suffer the worst pain I'd ever felt.

"You... fucking... demon!" I heard Havik screech between stabs, "should've... killed you... back then... fucking... whore!"

She continued her assault, but the pain began to take a backseat to the fuzziness in my head and I idly wondered if I was regenerating the damage. I couldn't think properly anymore and my consciousness was fading fast, but a pained cry that wasn't my own and the sound of metal clattering against the hard ground made my eyelids flicker open.

Havik stood over me, one hand over a bleeding gash in her arm and the other limp at her side. Her focus was drawn away from me and towards something in the distance. Her face twisted up in rage as she looked back down at me, but another voice somewhere far off made her look back up.

She stood there frozen with indecision for a moment, then snarled angrily, turned and fled off into the forest. I followed her retreating form with my eyes until she was out of sight, then turned to where I'd heard the other voice with no small amount of effort. Another figure was quickly making their way towards me, and the corners of my mouth turned up into a weak smile of relief.

A dozen or so yards away Mauri rushed past the campfire, her entire front, arms and face flecked with blood. Over one shoulder was slung my bag and in both hands she held my rifle. As she came closer she threw the rifle aside and called out to me, but I was already gone.

At least one of us... made it out okay...

Recollection II – Temptation and Resolve

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When I told Spike I'd most likely be spending almost all of my time in the Royal Archives I wasn't exaggerating. I still planned to do just that, but then circumstances changed slightly.

I arrived in Canterlot earlier than expected and contrary to what I'd told Spike regarding business and pleasure, I ended up taking some time to visit my parents while I was in town. Shining's role as Prince Consort in the Crystal Empire kept him far too busy to visit very often, and much to my own shame, I hadn't really bothered to check up on them either despite the fact that I lived much closer.

I figured if I was going to be locked away with nothing but books for company for who knows how long—admittedly not an entirely unwelcome prospect—then it would be best to get in touch with my loved ones first. So I spent an hour or so in my old family home before heading off to Canterlot Castle to meet Celestia and Luna.

I'd sent a notice ahead of time letting Princess Celestia know what my intentions were of course, but I arrived at the castle just as Celestia was getting ready for lunch. Needless to say, I joined her and we ate together. It was just as well I suppose, as Celestia seemed intent on grilling me about what I was actually trying to do.

"Oh, have you given up on the Magic of Friendship so soon, T̨̨͠w̵͢͢í̶͡l̶i͏̴̡̛͏g͏҉̛́͠h̷̷̡̀͜t͞҉͜?" Celestia teased once I'd revealed my worries. She took a sip of tea and eyed me over the rim of her teacup "and here I was under the impression that you thought it was the end all be all of solutions."

"Of course I haven't given up on the Magic of Friendship," I replied with a huff, "I know, maybe better than anypony how powerful a force it is," I silently dug into my tossed salad for a moment before shaking my head, "I know you're joking, but honestly you're not wrong about me being under that impression. I hadn't even realized I thought that way until recently."

"And that's entirely understandable," Celestia replied, setting her teacup down and giving a single nod, "especially given how effective it's been in the past. I can't count the number of times Luna and I relied on the Elements of Harmony after we defeated Discord so long ago," she paused and her smile turned somewhat wistful for a moment before she sighed, "but things aren't always so simple and as a ruler I've had to make some very... difficult decisions—Decisions that the Elements and the Magic of Friendship couldn't resolve."

"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about," I said through a mouthful of lettuce. I swallowed and jabbed a floating fork in her direction, "when I fought Tirek with the Magic of you and the others, there was no Friendship there, at least not until the end. Yes we relied on Friendship in the end and it worked out, but I could think of dozens of ways that could've played out if things had only been a little different—situations where Friendship wouldn't have helped at all."

"True," Celestia admitted, "you made quite a gamble giving up the power you'd gained, T̛̛w̷͢͞i̸͝l͡͡i̧͘̕g҉͞h̵̵͜͝t̶͟͡, and while I don't begrudge you for making such a difficult decision, I won't pretend like it couldn't have ended with..." Celestia expression turned grim, "...far darker results."

I felt a shiver run down my spine at the implications of her tone. I knew exactly what she was talking about because I'd thought the same thing afterwards. I also felt somewhat guilty at the worry I'd caused when I first told Celestia about what had happened that day.

"That's just another reason why I think it's important to find as many alternatives as possible," I replied quietly, "I don't want to be put in another position like that again, where I have to make a choice that puts my friends and I... and the rest of Equestria and possibly even the world at risk."

"T̷̛͏w̴͞͡҉̕i̸̢͘̕l͢҉i͏̶̶́͠g͏̨́h̵̡͘͘͜t͡҉, there's no way you can plan for every unfortunate eventuality," Celestia chided with a stern frown, "when you have the kinds of responsibilities we do—the kinds of burdens we carry, impossible decisions with potentially dire consequences come part and parcel. I would've thought you'd learned this lesson already."

"Believe me, Princess, I have," I replied grimly, "I know I can't plan for everything, no matter how much I wish I could, but at the same time... I'm scared," I set my fork down and stared at the plate in front of me, "I still think about what would've happened if Tirek had been just a little more ruthless, and that makes me think about what would've happened if any of the other villains my friends and I faced were the same. I think about that and I get scared for my friends, my family, myself... everypony."

I sighed and looked back up at Celestia with a resolute frown.

"That's why, even if there's no way to plan for every eventuality, I'm still gonna try to plan for as many as I can," I nodded to myself, "the Magic of Friendship isn't an end all be all solution to every problem, even if it seems like it right now. I don't know if there even is an end all be all solution, but it can't hurt to look for other ways to keep Equestria safe, right?"

"Not in the slightest. As a leader, you need to keep your mind open to other avenues of thought. No matter how vehemently you disagree—even if you know you will refuse outright, let no idea go unheard," Celestia replied with an approving nod. She leaned forward and crossed her hooves over the polished tabletop, "as long as you don't go overboard, I think seeking alternate solutions to future problems is a fine idea. All that said though..."

Celestia trailed off and her face scrunched up in thought. Her brow furrow and she opened her mouth to speak again, but closed it, sighed and shook her head instead.

"What is it?" I asked, frowning in concern, "is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong, T̢͘ẃ̷̕͜͟i̧҉҉̷̶ļ̴̶i͘͞g̴̶͞h̨̕t́͘͜," Celestia replied with another sigh, "it's just... there was a certain question I posed to my sister long ago, back when we first took up the thrones as the Diarchs of Equestria. This discussion has reminded me of that question and... well..."

She paused again and I grew a bit more worried.

"Well... what?" I pressed, "what was the question? You can tell me, Princess, though if it's that painful a memory, you don't really have to—"

"No, no it's... well..." Celestia sucked in a breath and let it out before giving a small chuckle, "I'm being ridiculous, worrying over something so trivial," at my worried look she waved a hoof, "really, it's no big deal, T̷̢ẃ̶̶̢̕i̴͠l͏̨͡͞i̵̡g̵͝͡h́̕t͏̧̛͜, but I am curious, so I'll ask you the same thing I asked Luna back then."

Her reassuring smile faded somewhat and there was a sort of sadness and hesitance in it that wasn't there a moment ago. When she next spoke, her tone was far more subdued, and upon hearing the question, I understood her odd change and the hesitance.

"You and your friends have fought against many villains in the past, T̕͜҉̵͡w̸͜i̴̢̕̕̕l͢i͞g͘҉h̷t̸̴̷͟͝ Sparkle, and you've managed to turn most of them into allies. For that I am and will always be extremely proud of you," she began before her smile fell, a serious frown forming in its place, "but what if you find yourself tempted by the darkness? What would you do then?"

"Me?" I asked, taken aback, "well, I mean... the obvious answer would be to refuse, right? I know the difference between right and wrong, or at least I like to think I do. I don't think the Elements would've chosen me if I were so easily corruptible."

"Nopony is perfect, T͏̕͞҉̡w̷͘͢i͘͘l̸̴i̕͠ģ̸́h̴̡͟͠͠t̨́͡, Elements of Harmony or no," Celestia replied, her eyes boring into mine with a strange intensity, "we all have our weaknesses—our vices.We each have things we're willing to give up or sacrifice for our own sake or the sake of others.

"I happen to know for a fact that you in particular have a crippling weakness for knowledge; an especially dangerous weakness to have I might add. I know you'd most likely use whatever knowledge you'd gain to aid your friends in the protection of Equestria, but heinous deeds have been committed in the name of the greater good before."

I winced at that, wanting to argue, but knowing she was right. Even now I was planning to lock myself in the Archives and peruse some potentially dark material. Just like she's said, it would've all been for the protection of Equestria, but it wasn't like I'd use anything I thought would harm my friends or family.

I was smarter than that, I knew that... but what if the danger was more subtle? Would I be able to spot it in time to stop myself from doing something horrible that I couldn't take back?

"I... guess you have a point," I admitted, "I can't really be sure I'll run into something I'd be tempted to try without realizing the danger, but I don't intend to try anything anyway, not without running it by you or Luna first, and besides," I gave my own reassuring smile, "it won't matter if I am tempted by the darkness, because I know my friends will be there to bring me back to my senses."

That's what I said at any rate, but I knew deep down that that wouldn't always be the case. Temptation can strike anywhere at anytime when you least expect it and especially when you're alone. I wanted to believe the others would have my back, and for the most part I did, but I also knew evil had many forms and had all sort of ways to drag somepony down into the darkness.

Like Celestia said, I couldn't plan for every circumstance, and by the look on her face, I could tell she was thinking the same thoughts I was. Still, she gave me an encouraging smile nonetheless.

"I suppose that's true, but it never hurts to be vigilant," Celestia replied, "I know I said to be open to any and all ideas and suggestions, but that comes with the addendum that you should be wise enough to know when to reject certain ideas and suggestions."

"Of course, Princess," I said with a small chuckle. My smile fell into a curious frown, "but now that you mentioned it though, the question you asked Luna before... what was her answer?"

"Ah, well to be honest, it wasn't the exact same question I asked you," Celestia explained, "her question had more to do with the responsibility of leading an entire nation and the temptation that came from having such power over others, but the tone was the same. As for her answer..."

Her smile regained that same sadness I'd seen before as she spoke, but now there was also a hint of guilt behind it as well.

"She said much the same as you actually, though with one key difference. You mentioned how you could rely on your friends to turn you away from any dark paths you might come across, but Luna?" She gave a humorless chuckle, "...she had complete faith that her older sister would be the one to keep her in check if such a thing were to happen."

"Oh..."

There was an uncomfortable beat of silence in which neither of us looked at each other. Celestia seemed to be lost in thought as she stared off to one side, while I frowned down at my plate. My fruit salad sat unfinished, but I couldn't bring myself to eat anymore. My appetite had vanished along with a good portion of the enthusiasm I had for the research I'd planned to conduct in the Archives.

Still, I couldn't and wouldn't let the now dour atmosphere keep me away from my goal. I forced a smile onto my face as I pushed back my seat from the table and hopped off.

"Well, I should probably get to the Archives before it gets too late," I exclaimed, "thanks for inviting me to lunch, Princess. We haven't a had a chance to eat together like that in a while."

"Hm?" Celestia replied distractedly. She blinked and turned to me with a smile of her own, though it looked far more natural than mine did, "ah, of course, T͠҉̡͘w̴̡̡̕į͡l҉̶͞í̢͜͜g̷̨͘h̛͢t҉҉̨͜, it was my pleasure. Make sure not to push yourself too hard, and take a break every once in awhile," she put on a mock frown, "I'll be paying you a personal visit if you don't."

I laughed in response and gave one last wave before heading towards the dining hall entrance. Once I was out of sight I let my smile drop into a determined grimace and picked up my pace.

I won't fall like Luna did in the past. Even if my friends abandon me—even if I have to save Equestria alone, I won't be tempted or give in to any dark desires, whatever they might be.

I swear to my friends, my family... and myself.

Episode IV – The First Leg ~ End

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I won't fall like Luna did in the past. Even if my friends abandon me—even if I have to save Equestria alone, I won't be tempted or give in to any dark desires, whatever they might be...

The first thing I was aware of were two haunting golden yellow orbs that seemed to fill my entire world with their baleful glow. Then, all at once, they were replaced with images that flashed across my mind far too quickly to comprehend with any sort of clarity. All the while I could only hear the too-slow and steady beat of my heart and the sound of blood pumping in my ears. As the beat of my heart gradually began to increase, so too did the pain until it was almost unbearable.

I wanted to cry out, but I couldn't make a sound, and for a moment, I was absolutely terrified—unable to understand who or even what I was. The flashing images, my heartbeat, the pain, and my own mixed emotions all clashed and melded in a chaotic torrent of madness for what felt like an age... then, in an instant, everything suddenly snapped into place.

My eyes shot open and I tried to suck in a breath to scream, but the pain made my voice catch in my throat and I could only make a strange half grunting, half choking sound. Whereas initially I couldn't place the exact pain I'd been feeling or where it had come from, I could now feel it everywhere, though thankfully it wasn't as strong as it had been. It took a long moment for my senses to reassert themselves, and in the interim, I continued to wince, shake, and gasp for breath, each inhale as painful as the last.

Slowly but surely, my heartbeat settled back into a normal rhythm, my breathing steadied, the agony dulled down into something I could tolerate, and my thoughts began to clear enough for me to start trying to figure out what was going on outside of my own body. The first thing I noticed was that I was laying on my back and staring up at a flat dark ceiling dimly illuminated by the soft amber glow of an unseen light source.

There was absolute silence save the for the slow and constant tick of a clock somewhere off to my right. My body felt oddly restricted and there was a sort of slightly painful pressure felt when I breathed in and out. Strangely, there was a coppery sort of taste in my mouth, though it faded quickly and left my tongue feeling somewhat dry.

I swallowed a few times before attempting to turn my head so I could take in more of my surroundings, but another painful twinge, this time in my neck, stopped me cold. Not wanting to exacerbate the experience, I allowed the back of my head to rest back onto the pillow beneath me. That was when I realized I was lying on a pillow, and with that realization, my brain instantly put the rest of the pieces together.

I'm... in a bed?

Indeed, past the odd tightness in my chest and and limbs, I could feel the tell-tale softness of a thick cotton blanket above and the slight give of a plush mattress below. I blinked and frowned as I continued to stare at the ceiling, trying to recall what it was that had happened to me before I woke. The first thing I remembered was an elegant dining room, an even more elegant equine creature with alabaster fur and a flowing rainbow mane, and a troubling conversation I'd had with said creature.

The memory seemed oddly out of place in my mind, and it didn't take long to figure out why as other, vastly different and altogether far more horrifying memories came flooding back. The initial memory of that equine creature—Princess Celestia I remembered—had been one of only two memories I had of a time before everything had changed.

Before I changed...

The rest of my memories consisted of what had happened to me as a human in this horrible world I knew nothing about. The images—especially of what had occurred just before I blacked out, made my stomach churn violently and my mouth go even drier than it already was. I found myself shaking all over again, and could once again hear the blood rushing in my ears. My eyes widened in horror and in an effort to keep the pain in my chest to a minimum, I tried not to hyperventilate. I had some success there, but that didn't stop the tears that started to spill down my face at the thought of what I'd done.

Don't dwell on it, came another thought from seemingly nowhere, focus on the here and now. All of that was in the past, you're here in the present and have no idea what's going on or where you are.

But it wasn't so easy to dismiss the horror, the guilt, the endless questions, and above all, the fact that I had more or less died. I was alive now—hurt, but alive—and from what I could gather based on observation, I was safe... at least for the moment. My own mind tried to tell me again and again that that was enough, but it wasn't—not by a long shot. I lifted my head as much as I could muster without making the dull pain in my neck any worse and looked down at my body, trying to see what had been causing the restrictive pressure.

"B-Bandages?" I croaked weakly, "what—"

Immediate regret over my surprised outburst filled me as my throat briefly seized up in muted agony. I rode out the pain and focused my attention on the fact that my wounds had been tightly bandaged, meaning someone had been taking care of me. As far as I could tell, the bandages were completely clean, free of any residual blood that might've seeped into them from my wounds, and I surmised that they may have either been changed recently, or that I'd stopped bleeding some time ago.

At the risk of hurting myself again, I tried to move the rest of my body and found that the bandages had only been applied to the majority of my chest, stomach and arms, and I could actually move my lower half without any real pain. I didn't remember my arms taking any significant damage during... whatever had occurred back at the camp, but even now, things were still somewhat fuzzy near the end, so it was possible something may have happened and I didn't realize.

Still, that got me thinking about everything that had transpired, and I began to panic again, which only led to more rapid breathing, which in turn led to more pain. I desperately tried to will myself to calm down, but I couldn't escape the memories of my rampage. Deciding it was futile to try, and not wanting to be crushed under the guilt and horror, I instead tried to rationalize both my current situation and what had happened before. Thankfully the little voice of reason in my head had returned to help with matters.

Okay, think... from what I can remember, there'd been mention of me being infected by some kind of poison from the Headhunter... but wait... who was it that—

Welcome back to the land of the living, my child...

My heart leapt into my throat at the sudden and all too familiar voice. It was a voice as deep and fathomless as the ocean—a voice as cold as the grave and unearthly as I'd ever heard. It came from within, yet reverberated throughout the entire room somehow, filling the air with its otherworldly presence. This was a voice to be feared and awed by.

It was the voice of Owlowiscious, and I was beginning to suspect that I'd only be able to remember the creature when he willed it. It was an unpleasant idea, only made worse by the fact that he seemed to be speaking directly into my mind. With my limited movement I couldn't see his form, but I had a feeling he wasn't physically there to begin with, not this time. The amount of questions I wanted to ask were piling higher and higher, but Owlowiscious only laughed that strange chirping, coughing laugh, as if dismiss my desire for answers as a joke.

Always questions with you... always a need to know, though I suppose that is what some would call a charming trait... and I also suppose your unique... situation does warrant some explanation.

"W-Why... are you here?" I rasped weakly, before frowning up at the ceiling, "no... what... w-what happened to me? Where... am I? Where's..." my eyes widened in realization, "where's... Mauri?"

You've done exactly as I hoped you would, child. You've met my expectations; I daresay you've exceeded them in fact. It was only a brief moment in time, but in that moment, you fully embraced the path set before you, taking your first step toward a harrowing, but ultimately necessary future in this unforgiving world.

Now the wheels of fate can truly begin to turn, and wherever they might take you, there is no going back, child. Perhaps, in time, you will find the past you seek, but know that it will bring you neither happiness nor closure. Whatever friends or allies you may make along the path to the truth, hardship and violence will be your truest and closest companions. Best to accept it now and save yourself some heartache in the future. That, child, is my advice to you.

I listened to his words, but couldn't fully comprehend them—or rather, it was more that I didn't want to. I wanted to deny everything he said, but then I thought back to everything that I'd experienced up until now. From the very moment I'd woken up in that white nothingness, my life had been full of hardship and violence, and, realistically, it hadn't even been that long since I'd first awoken. I opened my mouth to reply, slowly closed it shut as I ruminated on both past and present events and the portentous words Owlowiscious had spoken, then opened my mouth again.

"W... where am I?" I asked again instead, wincing at the effort it took to talk, "and w-where's Mauri?"

The thing in my mind never actually answered the question of what had come over me back at the camp, but I knew he wouldn't tell me outright, so I chose to set the thought aside for now and move on—something I found I could do now that I had Owlowiscious and his words to focus on. I was also beginning to wonder about the pain and whether or not my healing factor had taken affect. It must have at some point, because I was fairly certain I should've been dead after what that blonde woman had done to me... yet the pain remained. My worries, once again, seemed to amuse the alien creature, who laughed his strange laugh.

Make no mistake, child, if that foreign woman hadn't arrived when she did, you'd very much be a corpse beyond saving. You may have the power to resist death's embrace to an extent, but you are far from immune to it. As it stands now, you have limits, and given the severity of the injuries you've suffered, those limits hinder you from complete recovery. You can rest easy though, no harm will come to you... for the moment.

He chuckled again.

As for the foreign woman, she is nearby. I imagine she is feeling rather foolish for what she let happen to you, as well she should given all the reassurances and talk of mutual trust... but that is not for me to concern myself with. My interests lie in you and you alone, my child.

There was a pause in which I heard a distant door somewhere outside of the room I was in creak noisily open. The sound was followed by muted footsteps against hardwood flooring. They grew steadily louder as whoever was outside approached and I couldn't help but grow a bit anxious, helpless as I was at the moment.

I will leave you to your own thoughts for now, but we will meet again, child. You have done well, and now that your trials have truly begun, I will remain a fixture in your memory from this point on, though you will not and cannot speak of me to anyone.

Take my final bit of advice to heart, Miss Sparkle... rise above those who would seek to tear you down and become something to fear... something to worship. Only by ascending to a goddess among these mortals will you be prepared to confront the truth that awaits you at the end of your journey...

And with those final words, the voice disappeared. It was like a weight lifted from my mind, and I couldn't be more glad that it was gone. Still, just as Owlowiscious had said though, I could still remember his voice; I could recall his strange presence and everything he'd told me from the very first night we'd met back in the cabin up to his cryptic speech of only moments ago. He'd definitely left me with something to think about—a great many things to think about, and as I lay there, waiting for whoever it was to reach the door to the room I was in, I replayed the conversation I'd had over again.

By the time the door creaked open and the hesitant, grim faced form of Mauri stepped inside the room, my thoughts had once more turned to the slaughter of the three bandits at my own hands. So distracted was I in trying to make sense of what had come over me and what that voice in my head had been, that it took me a second to realize it was actually the green haired woman that had entered.

When I heard the door click shut I craned my neck as best I could and spotted Mauri standing in front of the door, tray in hand and her icy blue eyes widened in surprise as she saw me looking back at her. From the looks of it, she'd shed her armor and was wearing a simple dark brown short sleeved tunic that revealed her thin, but incredibly toned arms, black leggings similar to those I'd worn originally, and a sturdy looking pair of knee-high traveling boots.

I smiled at the sight of her—an inexplicable wave of relief washing over me as our eyes met, but Mauri only winced and looked away with a heavy frown. My own smile slipped as I realized what she must be feeling, and it hit me then that she probably expected me to be angry or feeling betrayed about what happened and the fact that she wasn't there.

After the conversation we'd had back at our campsite and how things had turned out in the end, I couldn't blame her for her reaction. The visible guilt on her face told me it was exactly as Owlowiscious had said, and to be honest, I had every right to feel the way Mauri most likely thought I felt, but I didn't. I was just happy to see she was alive and well. I was just happy to see a familiar face in this unfamiliar world I was stuck in.

"Mauri," I whispered with some effort, "I'm..."

But I stopped partway as she walked further into the room and to a point where I couldn't turn to see her, not saying a word all the while. I heard her move to the left of the bed and set the tray down onto what I assumed was a table or dresser next to me. Steam rose steadily from the large, fancy looking porcelain bowl on the tray and an unfamiliar but mouthwatering smell filled my nostrils.

I didn't know what was in that bowl, but I knew I wanted some. I heard the sound of wood scraping against wood and looking slightly to the left, I was just able to spot Mauri pulling up a simple wooden chair I hadn't seen before. She adjusted the chair so that it faced the bed and I heard her plop herself down before taking back up the tray.

"Mauri?" I tried again, attempting to watch her out of the corner of my eye, "what's going on? Where—"

My pitiful whisper was interrupted by a gentle shush from the other woman. I was confused for a moment before feeling something shift on the bed near my head, and before I could say anything more, my head was slowly and carefully lifted up and I felt something slid beneath the pillow. The pain spiked slightly at the sudden but gentle movement, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle, and after putting two and two together, I realized Mauri was propping my head up using another pillow so that she could feed me.

The pain lessened once I'd settled into my new position and I could finally get a better look at the room I was stuck in. I'd wound up in a well kept bedroom with wood paneled walls and and expensive looking furniture here and there. Various paintings depicting scenery ranging from the mundane to the fantastical and surreal lined each wall, and to my right, there were large maroon curtains drawn over singular window. Judging by the lack of daylight shining through, I surmised it was either fairly late or very early.

The constant ticking that resounded through the room turned out to be a large grandfather clock near the window. From my new position I had an easier time moving my head around, and a careful turn to my left showed Mauri sitting beside me, the tray with the bowl on her lap and a spoonful of some kind of thick amber soup with small chunks of something in it in one hand. She watched me expectantly and once I'd turned my attention to her, she grimaced, looked away and lowered the spoon slightly.

"It is... good to see you awake," she finally said in a low voice. Her words sounded forced, like she was pushing herself to speak—to say something she felt she had no right to say, "I had a feeling you would wake soon, so I brought you something to eat... just in case."

I swallowed, painfully aware of just how dry my throat was, and smiled, trying to ease her obvious remorse. It didn't help any, but I continued to smile anyway as I spoke.

"It smells good," I replied softly, "what is it?"

"Mauntis soup," Mauri answered, holding up the spoon again, "Mauntis wolf meat, chicken, replea herbs, and breneliv spices. It is a bit spicy and kind of burns a little going down and coming out, but it helps a good deal with recovery."

"Oh," I replied, wishing I hadn't asked, "well... i-if it helps, I guess."

Mauri moved the spoon forward and I nodded before letting her feed me the soup. Contrary to what I'd feared, the soup was fairly good, but Mauri hadn't been lying when she said it was spicy. There was certain a kick to it, but thankfully it wasn't too bad, and as Mauri continued to spoon feed me the soup, I ate in silence for a short time.

It was a peaceful sort of quiet at first, but Mauri's continued discomfort and silence was beginning to get to me. Eventually I told her I was full and she dropped the spoon into the halfway empty bowl before setting it aside. I wanted to say something to her—to tell her it was okay and that everyone makes mistakes, but she spoke first.

"Hey... listen," she began before stopping and taking a deep breath. She let it out in a heavy sigh and looked me in the eye with a solemn frown, "I am.. actually not very good at apologizing, so just... before you say anything, just let me explain, okay?"

I opened my mouth to say she didn't need to, but closed again and nodded silently. To me at least, it seemed like she needed this more than I did, and I'd be lying if I said a small part of me didn't feel betrayed and wanted at least an apology for what I'd had to go through without her there. She nodded in return and spoke again, her voice a little stronger than it had been before.

"Not all that much to explain really," she continued, "you fell asleep, I kept watch, and after awhile, I heard something in the woods. I went to investigate and was ambushed by bandits," she sucked in a breath through her teeth, "about six or seven of them came from the trees and attacked. Not sure why there were so many, but it might have been a patrol of some sort. I tried to wake you, but you slept like the dead, and by the time I dealt with the bandits you were long gone."

"I figured that might've been what happened," I whispered, though it came out as more of a quiet croak that still stung my throat, "I doubt you would've just let them drag me off like that."

I said that, but a small voice in my head questioned whether or not what Mauri was saying was entirely true—questioned what her actual intentions were in bringing me so close to that forest. It was only an instant, and I made note of the thought, but quickly pushed it to the back of my mind when I remembered what I'd seen just before I nearly died.

"It should not have happened at all," Mauri replied with a scowl. She looked down at the clenched fists in her lap, "I would happily hold onto the title of the strongest swordswoman in the area, yet I fail when it counts most."

She looked back up at me, arctic blue eyes shining wetly and full of self-loathing. I still couldn't say for sure if what she'd said about being as old as she was was true, but in that moment, she seemed every bit the child that she looked—lost, upset and vulnerable.

"I am well traveled, but in truth, my little Amethyst... you are the first person I have ever had to protect in such a manner," she wiped her eyes, sat back in her chair, and gave a mirthless chuckle, "you are the first charge I have ever taken into my care and with my experience I was certain this task would not be a problem... but it seems I am not quite the nigh peerless warrior I thought I was."

"That's... that's not fair," I replied, shifting slightly to face the downtrodden woman, "it was one against several, you couldn't have possibly taken them all on and protected me at the same time."

Judging by the look on Mauri's face, that was the wrong thing to say, but before I could apologize, she just sighed and slowly shook her head.

"No... you are right," she conceded, "I managed to kill each and every one of them, but I lost you in the process, and for that, I am truly sorry. Chal ei lenöa feyn gu teöh... I have grown arrogant and complacent over the years, and in my hubris I failed to keep you safe... but I will not fail again."

She stood from her chair and looked at me again, but this time there was conviction in her eyes that hadn't been there a moment ago; she stood by my bedside with a determination befitting a hardened soldier going to war.

"I wish to atone for my failure by joining you on your journey—not as a client, but as someone you can trust to be there for you whatever might happen. By the Night Mother and all she stands for, I will not let what happened before happen again. Tahm fha alagem, you have my word, my little Amethyst."

I looked at her, completely nonplussed and touched at the same time. I didn't know what to say; by all rights I should've refused, and that little voice in my head was telling me to, but I ignored it and considered Mauri and her request. There was certainly conviction in her eyes, but I could also see a kind of desperation there too.

I was of two minds regarding Mauri's proposal; either she was desperate to get back into my good gracious and continued traveling with me for some nefarious purpose I could only guess at, or she was genuinely broken up about what happened and wanted to atone just as she said. Doubt and distrust warred with hope and an almost overwhelming desire for a friend I could rely on and confide in. I laid back into my pillow and closed my eyes as I thought. I heard Mauri shuffling next to me, but I was gone, thinking back to Rosalyn's advice.

You need to find some trustworthy people to help you—or that you could help along the way... Who knows, girl? You just might find some folk who'll watch your back no matter how bad things get for you...

Mauri was hardly what I'd call trustworthy, especially after what had happened, but I had to start somewhere, and as much as I would've liked to travel with someone like Darmund or Rosalyn instead, neither of them were an option right now. I no longer wanted to travel alone, and whatever Mauri's intentions, she really was distraught about the whole thing.

Well... I was the Princess of Friendship once I suppose... apparently. Trust or not, I'm fairly sure the same thing would've happened either way... it might've been worse in fact.

I shivered at the thought before finally opening my eyes and turning back to Mauri, my neck cracking painfully in the process. I ignored the pain and gave Mauri the best reassuring smile I could muster.

"I'd be happy to have you travel with me, Mauri," I said, and realized after the fact that I meant it too. Despite everything, I was genuinely glad to have someone willing to join me, "what happened was... horrible, but hey, we're both wiser for the experience, right?"

"Yes," Mauri breathed, sagging back into her seat with apparent relief, "yes we are, and I thank you, Sparkle, you will not regret this choice."

"I hope not," I replied, wincing at my own words but unwilling to take them back, "and... um," it was my turn to hesitate now, but I pushed on after a moment, deciding it was probably for the best, "there's some things you should know—about me I mean. I can't tell you everything, and some of it I don't understand myself, but if you want to keep traveling with me, I think it's best to tell you now."

"Is it about what happened when I found you in that bandit camp?" Mauri guessed, "I wanted to ask you about that, but I felt it would not be... prudent."

"I appreciate that," I replied, "and some of it is—a lot of it is actually, but that's not all. Before I go into it though, can you tell me where we are exactly?"

"Oh, right!" Mauri exclaimed suddenly. Her brows shot up, but quickly furrowed again in concern as she continued, "I suppose I have a few things to share with you as well, and you may not like some of what you hear."

"I know you're not going to like a lot of what I have to tell you," I countered with a weak and rueful chuckle, "so I guess that makes us even... but please, go ahead."

"Well, as it turns out, that bandit camp was not far from the Seeker's mansion," Mauri explained, "after I chased that blonde woman off, I..." she faltered and grimaced at the memory, "...I did what I could to help you. I found a few medical supplies in your bag and managed to staunch the bleeding somewhat, but it was a close thing.

"I thought I was going to lose you," her face suddenly scrunched up in bemusement as she looked at me, "I was able to carry you the rest of the way to the mansion—that is where we are now, and I was able to convince Qaedis to put us up until you got better, but..."

She trailed off and simply stared at me with befuddled frown. I returned the expression with a confused and nervous look of my own.

"What?" I asked, "did something else happen?"

"Well, it is just..." she paused again, trying to find the words, "I was panicked before—not in my right mind, so I did not notice it at the time, but with your wounds, you should not have survived half as long as you did even with my help, yet here you are, only a little over a week later and making a full recovery."

I continued to stare at Mauri for another moment, almost wanting to laugh at the nearly identical outcome of my nearly fatal encounter to what had happened when I first arrived here in this world. As it was, I couldn't help but let out a painful chuckle, much to Mauri's confusion.

"It has to do with those things I was gonna mention," I replied when she'd asked what I was laughing about, "I'll tell you later, but you said we were in the mansion?" I asked, to which she nodded. I took another look around the room, then turned back to her, "and... Qaedis let us stay here?"

At this, Mauri winced and scratched a shoulder nervously. She looked like she was searching for a response, and after a second she just shrugged and gave me a helpless and apologetic smile.

"The thing is... Qaedis, he..." she frowned and turned to the closed door opposite the bed, "...he agreed to help us, and even provided food and nice rooms to stay in... but like everything else when it comes to him, there was a price to pay—or rather, a few favors we now owe him."

"Favors?" I asked, not liking where this was going, "what... what kind of favors?"

"Well, I took the liberty of asking him about a traveler's permit," Mauri explained, her tone oddly weary, "he has a stock of them and is willing to part with one for each of us, but that has only increased the debt we must pay, and he will not relinquish them until we have completed whatever tasks he asks of us."

My heart sank at the news, but it wasn't anything I didn't expect from Qaedis. I knew there was a price to paid, but now that the man had put us up for over a week, I was deathly afraid of what he'd ask us to do, and wondered what he'd do if we just refused. Somehow I got the feeling it would be very unpleasant. It was when I tried to open my eyes again and had some trouble that I realized just how tired I still was. Mauri's arrival had distracted me, but now I could feel the call of sleep pulling at my eyelids.

"Did he tell you what these tasks were?" I asked quietly, "did say what kind of favors we owed him?" I frowned, "it's nothing... weird, is it?"

"He did not say," Mauri replied, shaking her head, "I asked him more or less the same thing about his favors, and he assures me he is not the kind of man to take advantage of a woman in that way, but I wonder..." she fell silent for a brief second before shrugging, "well, in any case, he says he will let us know what we owe him once you are fully recovered."

I nodded slowly, my eyes still closed and already drifting off into sleep. I think I said something in response, but it was getting harder to pay attention to the outside world, and it took Mauri a few tries to regain that attention. I sluggishly opened my eyes to see her looking back at me with a worried frown.

"Hmm?" I croaked sleepily, "I'm sorry, what were you saying, Mauri?"

"You are still unwell and need rest," Mauri decided, furrowing her brow. She looked towards the window on the other side of the bed, "it is very late... perhaps we should pick this conversation back up when you have recovered enough to move around," she turned back to me with that same bemused frown from earlier, "and judging by how quickly you've recovered so far, that should not take too much longer I think."

I nodded again, grateful for the chance to sink back into slumber. My eyes opened again at the sound of a shifting chair and the clank of the spoon within the porcelain bowl. Mauri had returned the chair what I confirmed was a desk and taken the tray back up. She made her way back to the door and stopped before it, turning to look back me with a soft smile.

"Öidhe mhtat... goodnight, my little Amethyst, and thank you once again for your compassion and understanding."

I mumbled another response out of reflex, but by the time I'd registered what Mauri had said, she was already gone. The last thing I heard before sleep overtook me, was the gentle click of the bedroom door as it closed behind the smaller woman.

~ No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it. ~

Episode V – The Mansion ~ Part I

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Mauri had been right as it turned out. With just a little over two more days of rest, I had recovered enough to move more than a few inches and speak without pain stabbing my every nerve, and by the end of third day, I was able to leave the bed and get around without issue. During that entire time, Qaedis hadn't once shown himself, and all I really had to go on were Mauri's descriptions of the man. To hear her tell of him, Qaedis was old, but a strong man—both in mind and body. He was also cunning and stubborn.

I was somewhat surprised.

The image I had in my head of the man was of an old man, so that wasn't all too surprising, but I'd expected some stooped and scraggly bearded man with a twisted smile and eyes full of hidden malice and deceit... or something along those lines anyway. It was probably just my recent experiences coloring my picture of him, but I couldn't really help that, not until I saw him for myself at any rate.

I'd also found out that Mauri had taken the time to go back and retrieve my bag and rifle from the camp, which I was thankful for. The letter I was supposed to deliver to Nox Atra was in that bag, and without it, I'd have no real reason to go to Ruvenbor. The entire trip would've been rendered completely pointless. In light of that realization, and to hopefully avoid another situation like it in the future, I resolved to keep the letter a bit closer to my person. She'd taken my sword with her when she brought me to the mansion. According to her, 'it seemed like it was the most important thing I owned'.

In a sense, I think she was probably right on that front. Though I knew practically nothing about why I had it or where it had come from, it was the first and only thing I had with me when I first woke in that place. It had been with me from the beginning and I'm fairly sure it was what had saved my life when the Headhunter was about to kill me. It was magic that had saved me in the direct sense, but I don't think that would've happened had it not been for the sword itself.

It felt like a part of me, and it was only now that I was thinking about it that I realized I felt kind of incomplete without it. That said, There was one thing I noticed about the sword that I had to question. I hadn't exactly had the opportunity to put the sword back in its scabbard after everything was said and done, yet when I went to thank Muari, thinking she'd done it for me, she told me it had simply been that way when she picked it up. On a hunch, I had taken it back out earlier to check and sure enough, there wasn't a speck of blood to be found on the blade.

No nicks, no scratches, no gore... no sign at all that the thing had even been used. It was as though that night had never even happened as far as the sword itself was concerned. The whole thing kind of weirded me out if I was honest, but then again I was also sort of glad I didn't have to deal with any of the clean-up, so I didn't make too much of a fuss about it. Still, it did make me wonder what other mysteries that blade had to reveal.

Overall I was more or less grateful for the way things had ended up, even if we were in debt to Qaedis; things could've ended a lot worse than they did. What I was less happy about was the fact that the man in question had demanded to hold onto my Spellblade while I was recovering. The way Mauri told it, he wouldn't take no for an answer and refused to help treat me until she complied. I got the feeling that his interest in my Spellblade was probably the only reason he agreed to help at all.

It was then that I realized Darmund had been right all along; this weapon was going to garner all kinds of attention for better or worse if Qaedis and that Havik woman were anything to go by. Naturally, that made me worry about what the future might bring if I continued to carry the thing around in public, but at the same time, I wasn't going to abandon something that felt like a part of me, even if I didn't know why that was the case. Thankfully Mauri was able to get it back from him once I was well enough to move around again, and I now had the blade, along with the rest of my possessions, in hand.

I'd decided to tell Mauri almost everything that had happened to me, both before I'd met her, and after I'd gotten kidnapped and dragged into the bandit's camp. My words were awkward, uncomfortable, halting, and painful in some cases, but I persisted through the entire explanation, and to Mauri's credit, she didn't interrupt once. I was grateful, but at the same time, I didn't like the stony expression on her face; it was a look that grew more and more unreadable as my tale went on, and by the end of it, I was fairly nervous about her reaction.

I hadn't told her everything of course. I didn't tell her about the white void, nor did I tell her about where I was originally from, but that was mostly because I couldn't. I tried to tell her about Owlowiscious, but that had resulted in exactly the same outcome as when I'd tried to talk to Rose about the world I came from and what I'd been before. That made me wonder if the creature had been connected to my original life somehow. As for why I didn't tell her about the white void...

It just wasn't something I could bear thinking about. I didn't want to think about that bleak white emptiness, I didn't want to think about how long I might've been stuck wandering about with no aim or purpose, and I certainly refused to think about the nameless, faceless thing that had chased me out. I didn't know what that place was, and frankly, I no longer cared. I wanted nothing more to do with it, I wanted it gone from my mind, and as far as I was concerned, no one else needed to know about it. Ever.

Meanwhile, I sat on the edge of the bed I'd been confined to for the last two weeks or so and waited for Mauri to react in some way. The woman had once again taken up the seat next to the bed and had fixed me with a cold and calculating look that lasted just long enough make me fidget uneasily. After what felt like far too long, her hard gaze finally eased up and she brought a hand to her chin, humming in thought. Eventually she nodded and she looked at me, her gaze an odd mix of wariness, curiosity and amazement.

"As I suspected, that sword is more than a fake," Mauri finally replied, shaking her head in slight disbelief, "I knew there was something strange about you from the beginning, but this..."

"It's a lot to take in, yeah," I said, still feeling somewhat awkward about the whole thing, "like I said, I don't know a lot about what it all means, and—"

"Can you show me?"

I frowned in confusion and surprise.

"Um... show you?"

In response, Mauri reached down and plucked the sheathed sword from where I'd set it on the floor against the side of the bed and held it out for me to take.

"This magic of yours," she clarified, motioning with the sword, "even within my homeland there are stories of those chosen by the Goddesses to wield the sacred weapons. It was said that those who took up these blades could weave powerful miracles the likes of which no other warrior could ever hope to match."

"Well, I mean..." I began, somewhat perturbed by her evidently high expectations, "isn't the leader of the Unyielding Blade supposed to be a Spellblade user? Haven't you already seen her use one of those powerful miracles?"

"I have witnessed Hrist in battle only once," Mauri replied seriously, "what I saw that day could hardly be classified as true combat. Her opponent was felled in one stroke, faster than even my well-trained eye could see. A superhuman feat to be sure, but there was no true magic to be found in that fight, not like you describe. That is what I want to see, Amethyst. True magic cast by human hands."

There was a strange, childlike gleam in her eye as she looked at me—almost as if I was fulfilling some childhood fantasy of hers. I got the distinct feeling that's exactly what I was doing, and that made me feel all the more self-conscious about what I could actually do. Still, I saw no real reason to deny her, especially since I'd told her everything already anyway. Honestly, I was just glad she didn't seem to be mad at me or even just reject me outright, given the atrocities I'd committed just recently.

"It's... not really as impressive as you make it out to be," I tried, reaching out to take the offered weapon, "I can't really do anything too flashy..." as a demonstration I raised the scabbard and used my magic to pull the sword up and out, "...this is about all I can do. Just... kinda make things float around. Maybe there are some other applications I haven't tried yet, but that's more or less it..."

I removed my hand from the scabbard and Mauri watched intently as it rose alongside the sword, both objects wrapped in a soft magenta glow. In truth, this was the first I'd noticed—or rather registered the fact that I could lift two objects at once; the only other time I'd done so had been when I was writing with a pen and paper, and that hardly felt like it counted for anything. My curiosity now piqued, I turned my attention to my heavy bag sitting near the wall next to the entrance and with a bit more effort and a deep frown of concentration, I managed to pull that into the air as well without regard to the combined weight of everything inside. I thought back to when I'd killed the Headhunter and idly wondered just how heavy the creature had actually been.

"Huh," I murmured to myself, "I wonder..."

I turned to a bookshelf I'd failed to notice while I was incapacitated and, probably against my better judgment I furrowed my brows and raised a hand towards it. A moment later the sound of rapidly flapping paper filled the air and before I knew it, I was surrounded by a ring of books. They hovered around me and I added the sword, its scabbard, and my bag to the circle, an oddly wistful smile crossing my face as I watched everything float by. Just for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fall away and I swore I could almost feel it, that other place—that magical fantasy land where I'd evidently originated from.

"Simply fascinating..."

And just like that, I was snapped out of my pleasant reverie. A cry of surprise escaped my lips, my heartbeat went into overdrive and everything I'd been holding aloft in my magic dropped either to the ground or atop the bed. Eyes wide with panic, I whipped around to meet the owner of the deep and scratchy voice and locked eyes with what I could only assume was the master of the mansion himself, Qaedis the Seeker. Here was the man who was said to have been so good at his chosen profession that among the countless scavengers and collectors scattered all over the world, he alone held the distinguished title of the Seeker... or so I was told by Mauri. Personally, I didn't quite understand the significance of such a simplistic title truth be told, but the man certainly did cut an impressive figure.

He stood tall at about six feet—not as tall as Jack, nor as built, but that was to be expected; Jack was a mountain of a man and it seemed ridiculous to compare him to anyone else. His frame was thin but incredibly lean and just all-around fit, exactly as Mauri had described. His skin, at least what I could see past his dark red loungewear, was lightly tanned and the only real features that gave away his advanced age were the many wrinkles upon his thinly bearded face and his shoulder-length mop of greying hair. Everything else about the man, from the playful smile that didn't quite reach his twinkling amber eyes to his loose and confident posture as he stood in the open doorway, spoke of an active, youthful character brimming with life.

No... definitely not what I expected at all...

"U-Um," I stammered, trying and failing to come up with a cover, "this isn't—I mean... I-I was—sorry about the books, I just... uh... y-you must be... Qaedis the Seeker?"

I finished with that stiff and awkward question, realizing there was really no way I could talk my way out of this situation and not knowing what to say otherwise. I'd been caught unaware and it was nobody's fault but my own. I turned to Mauri for help, but she looked just as surprised as I did to see the man standing there. Had she not been paying attention either or was he just that stealthy? Whatever the case may have been, the man merely chuckled and raised a placative hand.

"Now there's no need for all the fluster," he replied calmly, "just Qaedis is fine, although I would appreciate it if you'd return my books to their rightful place—ah... without touching them if you please."

I froze just as I was about to reach out to grab a tome and turned back to Qaedis with a quizzical frown. Mauri snorted beside me and I looked to see her glaring at the grinning man.

"He wants you to demonstrate your magic again," she clarified with a hint of bitterness in her tone.

"Oh, um... okay?" I replied, not really seeing a reason not to now that I was exposed, "I guess I can I do that... let me just..."

With another wave of my glowing hands, each book rose from the ground and was set back on the bookshelf, exactly as they'd been before with every book in its proper place. I'd made a mental note of where each book had been placed, already intending to put them back before anyway, so it wasn't a particularly difficult task. That done, I returned my uneasy gaze to Qaedis, who directed his gaze to the bookshelf and nodded in satisfaction before looking over to me with almost as much wonder as Mauri had only moments before.

"Truly fascinating," he repeated, awe clear in his deep cracked voice, "the advent of another Spellblade and its wielder—not another fraud, but the real deal... to bear witness to such an impossible development in my lifetime," he chuckled again and shook his head in disbelief, "blessed be the Goddesses for this fine gift, this miracle upon miracles."

"Is it... really that big a deal?" I found myself asking as I retrieved my sword and returned the weapon to its scabbard by hand. His words made me feel as if I was missing a far bigger picture, and the thought put me off a bit, "I'm not some great warrior or anything like that. I don't even know how to use a sword—" I grimaced at the statement "—well, I... I've never had any formal training anyway."

"Doesn't matter," Qaedis replied, giving a single shake of his head, "the way I hear it, those weapons don't just choose any random buffoon that can swing a sword around. No, there's something special about you, Miss Sparkle... and to answer your question, this is a very big deal, especially for someone like me."

He paused suddenly and fixed both Mauri and me with an odd look. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough to put me on edge. He scratched his head and hummed in thought for a second before giving a careless shrug.

"Ah, but enough about that for now," he continued, once again wearing that smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "I believe we have some business to attend to now that you're finally up and about," he turned to leave, speaking to me over his shoulder, "do me a favor and meet me downstairs once you're ready, would you, Miss Sparkle? I'm sure that one there has already told you a few things, but we can discuss the matter of your repayment for my kindness in detail over some breakfast. Little Miss Green Locks can show you the way."

With those parting words, he retreated into the hallway, down the stairs, and was gone a few moments later, his footsteps echoing loudly behind him. I looked after Qaedis with a worried frown, unsure of what to make of him after the encounter. He sounded old, but he certainly didn't act like I thought an old man should be acting. He seemed a nice enough sort at first glance, but there was air about the man that made me slow to trust him. Very slow. I constantly got the feeling he was hiding something from me, and after meeting him, I wasn't particularly thrilled about having to do him any favors. In that, it looked like Mauri and I were in full agreement, as the woman rose from her chair and snorted again, glaring out at the now empty hallway.

"I am almost certain he heard more than he saw, the bastard," Mauri growled. Her eyes narrowed slightly, "there is no telling what he will do with the information he has now, though in his line of work I can think of a few possibilities."

"What do you..." I began before trailing off as realization sank in, "oh..."

This is a very big deal, especially for someone like me...

I hadn't even thought about what his answer really meant until Mauri pointed it out. Qaedis was a collector—one of, if not the best collector in the world if Mauri and others were to be believed. What he collected didn't stop at just material objects; information could be just as valuable as anything you could physically hold, if not more so, and if my having a Spellblade was as groundbreaking as I'd been led to believe so far, then he was now sitting on what might've been the most valuable piece of information imaginable right now, nevermind whatever else he might've heard from my story. The fact that he might be willing to sell information about me to some random stranger made me more than a little uncomfortable.

"How much do you actually think he heard?" I asked, my worry slowly turning to fear as I thought about what new enemies the future might bring, "if he was standing outside the door—"

"If he was standing outside the doorway, I should have felt his presence, but I sensed no one beyond the door," Mauri interjected grimly, "it is possible his sudden entrance may have been a coincidence, but the fact that I could not feel his presence until he opened the door leads me to believe otherwise. He is no ordinary man, Amethyst, that much I can assure you," she finally turned away from the hall to give me a serious frown, "think well before you speak around that man, lest he use what you say against you."

I swallowed and nodded in response to her warning. She didn't need to tell me twice; once we met with Qaedis for breakfast, I'd intended to say as little as possible and let him and Mauri do most of the talking. Of course, if he had heard everything there was little point in that course of action, but we didn't know for sure if he had or not so it was better to play it safe. With nothing much left to say, I changed out of the simple cotton nightwear Qaedis had provided for me and donned my travel tunic which had evidently been cleaned and repaired at some point, no doubt another 'kindness' from Qaedis.

"You said you could sense people?" I asked Mauri as I re-strapped the scabbard to my back. I decided to make some small talk so I wouldn't have to think about what lay ahead, though that wasn't to say I wasn't actually curious, "Is that something everyone from your homeland can do or...?"

"Not necessarily," Mauri replied, leaning against the wall near the bedroom door. She'd already donned her weapon and armor and was waiting for me to finish as she explained, "my father called it këdhu—warrior's intuition. It is an extremely rare trait that my people possess. It was said that the ability was common among Djävagoan warriors once long ago, but has since faded with time, no doubt due to the peace that has reigned for several ages.

"Now only a handful of us can use this ability, and even then it is a skill that must be forged in intense training and honed in constant battle," a slightly frustrated and embarrassed look crossed Mauri's face for a brief instant before she continued, "I myself possess the skill, but despite my training and the battles I have fought, my grasp of it is... still somewhat lacking. I can only sense those at a certain distance, and that distance is... not very far, unfortunately. Still, it should have been enough to know if Qaedis was anywhere near this room."

"Maybe he... I don't know, has the ability to mask his presence or something?" I guessed. I had no real idea if that was possible, but it seemed like Mauri was kind of self-conscious about her meager ability despite her presumably long and intense training, so I felt I had to say something, "you said yourself that he wasn't normal after all."

"Maybe..." Mauri replied, sighing heavily as she stretched her arms and pushed herself off the wall, "that aside, if you are ready then we should head down and get this over with. I would rather not stay here any longer than we have to."

"You and me both," I muttered as I adjusted my tunic one more time. I pressed a hand to my chest and let out a few calming breaths before giving Mauri a single nod, "alright, let's... go see what he wants, then."

It's not like I wasn't grateful for the help Qaedis had provided—far from it. It may have been for selfish reasons, but the man did help save my life and I planned on thanking him for all that he'd done for me. The problem was that he wasn't the kind of person I wanted to be indebted to, especially given the possible leverage he now had over me. Not only that, but I felt like he wasn't the kind of person who particularly cared about being given a simple 'thank you' and leaving it at that. Then again that was just an assumption on my part and I wasn't really sure how he'd react. These were the thoughts that plagued me as Mauri led me out of the room, down the stairs, and all the way to the dining hall.

The mansion itself actually wasn't all that big, at least not nearly as big as I expected it to be. As I was being led straight to our destination, I didn't get to see a lot of what the mansion had to offer, but I did see enough to notice that for someone who was supposed to be a collector, there was surprisingly little in the way of decor. Certainly, the interior was nice—the mahogany-paneled walls were nice, the dark red carpeting the lined the halls was soft and lush beneath my boots, and the arched windows I passed added even more class, but other than a few displays such as the occasional suit of armor, some paintings here and there, or an artistic marble bust of some figure I didn't recognize, there wasn't much to see.

I wonder where he keeps everything he's collected... maybe there's a hidden vault somewhere?

As much as I tried not to think about that night, I couldn't help but remember the fact that those bandits had probably intended to rob Qaedis, so he must've been hiding valuables somewhere. That thought led me to the realization that, intentionally or no, I had actually stopped a potential break-in. The means by which had accomplished that feat still made me literally sick to my stomach just thinking about, but it was no less true.

Maybe I should bring that up? But he probably already knows that and it's probably not going to change anything... still, it probably wouldn't hurt to mention it.

As I thought more on the matter I failed to notice as Mauri stopped in front of me. I just managed to stop myself from bowling the much shorter woman over, and I went to apologize, but she either didn't notice or care. Her attention was focused on an older man and younger woman standing on either side of a gilded set of closed doubled doors. Both stood rigid and formal in attire that suggested some sort of servile role. Judging by his fancy black trousers and dinner coat, stiff posture and polite smile, I surmised the older balding gentleman to be a butler. I couldn't tell if he was as old or not; he had about the same amount of wrinkles, but his hair, while thinning, was still a light brown color.

The younger woman, on the other hand, was clearly a maid given her plain black long sleeve dress and full white apron. Her auburn hair was cut in a short bob beneath her lacy white cap. She looked about the same age as me, maybe a little older. Upon seeing us, the man gave a short bow and an indulgent smile. The woman did the same, but I noticed her bow was a bit more stiff, her smile somewhat strained as she laid eyes on me. I raised an eyebrow at that, but before I could say anything, Mauri spoke first, gesturing to the two.

"Qaedis' servants," she pointed out with a playful smile, "I took the liberty of getting to know them a bit while we were here out of boredom. The butler is a little too by-the-books for my taste, but he is a sweetheart once you get to know him," her smile dropped a bit as she turned to the maid, "this one is Miriam. She is the one who did most of the work cooking your meals and treating your wounds, at least while you were unconscious. She is nice enough, but the poor dear is far too jumpy..." she leaned towards me and continued in a stage whisper, "...especially around you. Take that how you want, but personally, I think she has a thing for you, my little Amethyst."

I groaned at that and pushed the snickering woman away before giving the affronted maid an apologetic smile. Miriam had obviously heard Mauri and, perhaps not knowing how to respond, looked away and said nothing at all. Despite what Mauri thought, it looked more to me like she was afraid. I wondered why that could've been, but then I thought back to Jack's cabin and what he'd said about my unnatural recovery speed. Maybe something similar had happened and spooked the maid? That might've explained why I'd never seen her until now, and why it was always Mauri that brought my meals and removed my bandages while I was awake.

"I'm sorry about that," I decided to say aloud, "Miriam, was it? Thank you for taking care of me. I don't think it's a stretch to say I might not have made it if it weren't for you."

"I simply did what the Master told me to do, nothing more," the woman replied in a clipped and uncomfortable near-whisper, "still, your gratitude is... appreciated."

This time it was my smile that grew strained at the response. It was clear she didn't want to speak with me, so I left it at that and turned instead to Thaddeus.

"It's nice to meet you both," I continued, "I'm assuming the dining hall is past here?"

"The pleasure is all mine, Madam Sparkle," Thaddeus answered with another slight bow. Like Qaedis' voice, his was deep, but unlike the collector, there was a smoothness to his tone that made him sound far more... charming for lack of a better word, "and yes, the dining hall is this way. Master Malouveus is already seated and waiting for you and Miss Bandal to join him. Now please, if you would..."

At that, he stepped in front of the double doors, grabbed each handle, and gently but firmly pushed them open. With a loud click, the doors gave way and as Thaddeus invited us in, I once again hoped everything would be okay, but braced myself for something else to inevitably go wrong.

Episode V – The Mansion ~ Part II

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I wasn't sure what to expect when Thaddeus pulled open the doors to the dining room and Mauri and I stepped inside. It definitely wasn't a strange sense of warmth, familiarity, and more than a touch of sadness and nostalgia. Yet, for a brief instant, that's exactly what I felt as I looked around the room.

The dining room itself wasn't massive, nor was it even all that fancy, but it was still larger than it really needed to be. The walls were made of a deep burgundy wooden paneling broken by the occasional tall arched window. On the right side of the room sat another set of double doors that—from what I could tell by looking through the windows—led to what I assumed was a garden of some kind. A chandelier hung unlit above the elongated dining room table in the middle of the room. The table was made of polished wood so dark brown that it was almost black, with the majority of it covered by a thin burgundy cloth that matched the paneling.

The atmosphere along with the heady scent of breakfast hit me like a train, and the image of a much fancier dining room with white marble walls superimposed itself over this room in my mind. The smell of hot coffee, fresh eggs cooked over-easy, freshly baked bread continued to assault my nostrils as I made my way further into the room, along with another smell I didn't immediately recognize that made my stomach growl all the louder. My eyes widened slightly in surprise as they passed over the meal laid out before me; several different ceramic plates were placed atop the table—far more than was necessary for three people.

There were certainly eggs to be had, and a lot of them cooked in ways I didn't even know eggs could be cooked. I counted three different loaves of bread, each of them different in one way or another and partially sliced into several smaller loaves. Cheese both processed and creamed, pitchers of milk, orange juice, and coffee, butter both in sticks and melted into small saucers, and many other foods I didn't recognize or had never had—it was all here and it was almost all too much to take in. Some of the dishes I suspected were meat-based and was the source of some of the smells I couldn't place, but I found I was so hungry I didn't even care.

"Ah, so you finally made it!" came a cheerful rasp from across the room, "come, don't just stand there in the doorway gawping like a fish, Miss Sparkle! There's much food to be had, and all of it twice as good as it looks!"

I looked passed the food to see none other than the lean and wizened form of Qaedis sitting at the far end of the table, arms spread wide in an invitation and a bright toothy smile on his face as he greeted Mauri and me. I hesitated for a moment, still reeling from the emotions and sensations that had briefly overwhelmed me. Mauri, however, wasted no time in gliding past me as though she was walking into her own dining room.

"This is quite the spread," the green-haired woman commented as she threw herself down into one of the seats adjacent to Qaedis. She ignored the food and eyed the old man warily, "such a fine breakfast makes me wonder if you mean to put us further in your debt."

"Please, Miss Bandal," Qaedis replied with a light chuckle, "I'm not so bad as you seem to think, really. While I'm not one to pass up a golden opportunity when it's so readily presented to me, I'd like to think I have some modicum of self-restraint," he gestured to the mountain of food before him with a dramatic flourish, "this is just simple hospitality. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Is that so?" Mauri asked, clearly unimpressed and unconvinced by Qaedis' words, "to hear my colleagues tell of you, there have been many fools that have come seeking your aid only wind up crushed under debts far too steep for any one man to pay," her eyes narrowed slightly, "...more than a few of them in quite a literal sense."

"Rumors, gossip, slander," Qaedis scoffed, "all mere speculation from simpering cowards too intimidated by my frankly bloated reputation to actually come and verify these claims themselves," he shook his head sadly before looking past Mauri to where I was still standing near the entrance, "I'm a collector of a great many things, ladies, but I do not count debts among any of them. I merely use my talents to provide people what they want or need for a price, just like any merchant you'd see in any town."

"And those that cannot pay that price?" Mauri challenged, "what of them?"

"What of them?" Qaedis retorted, whipping back around to face Mauri, "I never ask for more than what I would be willing or able to do. The more valuable the item or knowledge, the more difficult my demands in exchange. I make these terms quite clear to any who desires my possessions..."

He paused to stab at a bit meat on his plate before biting into it with what I thought was a bit too much gusto. There was a beat of silence as he devoured the meal in front of him, silence in which I reflected on his words. They made sense, sure, but I still had questions about his line of work and why he operated the way he did. I wanted to know more, but before I could ask, Qaedis set down his fork and sighed in satisfaction before speaking again.

"...it's ultimately up to the 'customer' to decide whether or not the reward is worth the risk," he finished after a minute. He turned back to me with what I guessed was supposed to be a friendly grin, "but if you're still not convinced that I'm just a simple businessman, you can think of this meal as payment for the little magic show you put on upstairs."

"O-Okay, but..." I hesitated a moment but decided I'd been awkwardly standing in front of the entrance long enough. I slowly made my way over to the chair opposite Mauri as I spoke, "...there's still something I don't understand. Why bother putting people in danger like that? Why ask them to do tasks or favors? Why not just—"

"Why not just ask for bits like any other sane person?" Qaedis finished with an indulgent chuckle. I nodded as I sat down and he shook his head at the question, "I don't need money, Miss Sparkle; I don't want it," he sat back comfortably in his chair and closed his eyes as if in wistful remembrance, "...I suppose you could chalk some of it up to the way I was brought up, but the rest..."

He trailed off and I looked over to Mauri, who'd starting to eat, but kept her eyes fixed on the old man. Too curious to let Qaedis' response stand, I refocused on him and frowned in bemusement.

"What do you mean?" I finally asked, "I guess I can see not needing any money living in a house like this, but..." my bemused frown deepened as I looked around the dining room, "...actually, why do you live so deep in a random forest out in the country like this?"

"I've walked this earth a good long while and have seen a great many things," Qaedis replied, his eyes still shut and a small smile creeping onto his face, "the experiences I've had and the things I've seen and collected over the years, no amount of money can buy... ah, but the people?" his eyes suddenly snapped open and he frowned at the ceiling, "the people I can do without."

I waited for him to elaborate further, but he didn't. There was a deep bitterness—a darkness of sorts—in his last statement that said more to me than any words might've, so I left it at that. I guessed Mauri must've felt the same because she didn't say anything either. By some unspoken agreement we both let his last comment pass unquestioned and allowed him to change the subject. Rather than explain himself, he instead shook his head once more and nodded in my direction with another indulgent smile.

"Actions are worth more than their weight in bits, Miss Sparkle," he continued, "I find far more satisfaction in making my 'customers' work for their rewards. Whether or not they agree to meet my terms, whether or not they come back to me with success or failure in their eyes—whether or not they come back at all—it tells me more about the content of their character," he leaned forward towards me, his amber eyes sparkling strangely in the morning sunlight cast through the arch windows, "and that, Amethyst Sparkle, is worth more than all the bits in the world."

"Oh..."

That was all I could muster as a reply in the face of his words. I looked over to Mauri, who scoffed at what she'd heard, but looking closer I could see something besides disdain in her eyes; I could see something akin to a grudging sort of respect, or maybe it might've been understanding. I wasn't quite sure, but I didn't get a chance to dwell on it as Qaedis addressed me again.

"Now, if we could step away from the topic of my intentions and why I operate the way I do," he began in a slightly more formal tone, "I think it's about time we moved onto another subject—namely what I'd like the two of you to do for me as repayment for the generous aid I've provided you."

"And I do not suppose we could call it even given what you have seen?" Mauri asked, no doubt referring to my magic.

"Oh?" Qaedis replied with a look of mock bemusement, "but I'm quite sure I've already repaid that debt with this splendid meal," he turned to me, "and on that note, you really should partake before it all gets too cold, Miss Sparkle. I wouldn't want Thaddeus' efforts and talent going to waste after all."

"Uh... r-right,"

My reply was somewhat muted as I picked up a nearby fork and looked down at my plate. It was already laden with eggs, toast, and a few strips of a type of meat I hadn't yet seen but whose smell drew me in the most out of everything else. One glance was enough to remind me of how hungry I was and the smell of the meat alone was enough to get me started.

It certainly looks good... and it tastes even better!

Both Mauri and Qaedis had been right; the food really was exquisite and I found myself gaining newfound respect for the butler I'd only just met a moment ago. It was so good that I didn't even bother asking what type of meat I was eating—the strange hesitation I'd had when I first ate meat back at Jack's cabin didn't register here in the slightest. Given how hungry I'd been and how good the food was, I was practically inhaling it all and I could hardly stop myself.

That was, of course, until I felt rather than saw two pairs of eyes on me. I paused long enough to look up from my plate and sure enough, both Qaedis and Mauri were eyeing me with no small amount of amusement. It was only then that I realized I'd already been in the middle of reaching out for seconds on everything. Trying to ignore the heat creeping into my cheeks, I quickly pulled the fork and knife I'd been stabbing into the sliced meat away from the large platter and set them both back on my own plate.

"S-Sorry," I said in a barely audible murmur, "I uh... guess I was hungrier than I thought," I cleared my throat, "um... you said Thaddeus made all of this? He's... a really good cook."

"That he is," Qaedis replied with another chuckle, "I'll be sure to let him know you enjoyed the meal. And please, take as much as you want. I won't judge you for letting loose, there's more than enough to go around after all."

"I for one will definitely be taking you up on that offer," Mauri replied, following my earlier lead and piling several more slices of bread and crispy strips of meat onto her plate, "letting all of this go to waste would be a sin."

"Indeed," Qaedis agreed. Rather than follow after Mauri, however, he instead set his own silverware down and dropped the smile he was wearing into something slightly more serious, "but before any of us get too comfortable, I'm afraid I must put a damper on all the good humor for the time being."

I'd tentatively grabbed some more food and was set to continue gorging myself, but stopped myself at his tone and expression. Mauri continued to eat, but at a much more subdued pace than before. Both our eyes and ears were now on the old man sitting at the head of the table. I wasn't sure about Mauri, but I was quickly losing my appetite at the thought of the conversation that was about to occur. Heedless of my growing anxiety, Qaedis began to speak.

"I'm not one to mince words when it comes to business so I'll be frank," he began. He turned to give me a look I couldn't quite place, "while I failed to catch the whole thing, I did overhear enough of your story to know that you're hiding some rather vicious fangs beneath that demure exterior."

I winced and dropped my gaze down to my plate at his words. There wasn't really much I could say to that, given that he wasn't entirely wrong.

Actually there are quite a few things I could say, but I doubt any of it would help my case, and I'd honestly rather not say anything at all if I can help it.

"A little rude to listen in on a discussion held in confidence, is it not?" Mauri asked pointedly, "if you mean to convince me that you are not the scumbag many think you are, then you have done a poor job of showing it."

"I believe I told you before that I am not one to pass up a golden opportunity when it presents itself," Qaedis replied readily, "as a gentleman, I won't hold what I've learned over either of your heads, but make no mistake, Miss Bandal, at the end of the day I am a scavenger and a damn good one."

"So wait, when you say you won't hold this over our heads..." I began, looking for clarification.

"I won't use the information to blackmail you or put you into an otherwise... unfavorable position, so you need not worry about that," he assured. He pressed a hand to his chest and gave me an earnest smile, "believe me, young lady, the fact that there's another Spellblade wielder out there is information I won't part with so easily," then he frowned, "that's said..."

"That said," Mauri picked up from where he left off with a grim scowl, "every man has his price, am I right?"

"Sadly, yes," Qaedis confirmed with a nod, "eventually someone will come along asking me about you—someone competent. I imagine you'd like to keep your status as a Spellblade wielder as a secret at least for the time being, but I have to say, you've done a poor job of it so far," he shook his head and looked at me with no small amount of pity, "I'm sorry to say this isn't the kind of thing you can keep under wraps for long, Miss Sparkle—especially if you continue on as you have been."

"I... yeah, I guess that makes sense," I said after a long pause. I cast a brief, troubled glance at the blade slung across my shoulder, "I don't really want to make trouble for anyone, least of all for myself, but I suppose that can't really be avoided at this point..."

"No, it can't," Qaedis sighed, "...but how about this?"

He leaned forward and both Mauri and I perked up at his words.

"I won't hold onto this information forever—I can't," he said, "but I will keep quiet until you can at least learn to fend off those that would hunt you for what you wield with more than a middling amount of success."

"Really?" I asked, "but I don't know if I could... I mean, being a warrior, it's not really something I was planning on—"

"No, you will become something to fear whether you want to or not. This is the kind of world where the weak are crushed underfoot and the strong are dragged out into the open kicking and screaming," Qaedis interjected, "you're just about as green as anyone I've ever seen, but I can tell you have a terrifying amount of potential without even having seen you fight," he nodded towards Mauri, "I'm sure she sees it too, don't you, my forest-dwelling friend?"

Mauri frowned at that but gave a helpless shrug nonetheless.

"He is right," she said, turning to face me, "I missed the chance to see you take down the bandits, but I know there is more to you than just fancy magic tricks," she then turned a narrowed gaze towards Qaedis, "I must ask though, how will you know when she is ready? And while we are on the subject, how do you determine whether or not someone has completed a task? I am assuming you have taken measures against someone simply coming back with mere claims that they have done what you have asked?"

"Oh, I have my ways, don't you worry your pretty little head about that," Qaedis replied mysteriously, "and getting back to my task for you two," he cleared his throat, "in regards to letting Miss Sparkle rest and recover at my home, I've decided to call it even given that you drove the bandits away. However... there's still the matter of the traveler's permit that'll get you into Ruvenbor."

Oh, right. I... actually completely forgot about that now that I'm thinking about it...

"Now, I do happen to have one or two stamped and unsigned permits squirreled away somewhere," Qaedis explained, "but if you're interested and willing to put in a bit of extra work, I can give you something much more useful."

"Oh?" Mauri raised a brow, "and what would that be?"

I didn't want to get into anything more dangerous than I had to, but I also had to admit to feeling more than a little curious at his offer. After a second of indecision, I opted to stay quiet and wait to hear what he had to say.

Nothing's set in stone just yet. I can always refuse if it doesn't sound worth it.

"Why, I'm so glad you asked, Mauri my dear!" Qaedis replied with a brilliant smile. He looked past the two of us and towards the entrance before raising his voice, "Miriam! Bring them in, would you?"

Bemused, Mauri and I turned just in time to see the double doors creak open, revealing none other than the maid I'd just met. She stood in the doorway, her posture impeccable, her eyes closed and her head bowed ever so slightly. There was a strange sort of regal air about her that I hadn't seen earlier and I couldn't help but wonder for a moment who the master and servant were supposed to be. It took me a second, but I also noticed a small wooden box held in her upturned palms. From where I sat, the box looked much like a miniature treasure chest, complete with a small bronze latch in the front.

"Excellent," Qaedis said, motioning his maid forward, "over here, please. Don't be shy now."

Miriam gave a wordless and graceful bow before stepping further into the room. She only had eyes for Qaedis it seemed, as she ignored Mauri and I outright as she passed and only stopped once she was next to the old man's seat. The moment she reached Qaedis, she leaned down to present the small wooden chest. Apparently the chest hadn't been locked like I thought because Qaedis was able to simply pop the lid open and reach inside. After he'd pulled out whatever it was he wanted to show us, Miriam straightened up with open box still in hand and stepped back to stand behind his seat as if silently waiting for further orders.

"Now then," he began, holding up what looked like two large silver medallions for Mauri and I to see, "do either of you ladies know what these are?"

Confused and curious, I leaned in a bit to get a better look and saw a vaguely familiar image engraved on the front. Something stirred in my memory at the sight of two crossed sabers beneath a large tower shield emblazoned with the image of a crescent moon. Encircling the image, engraved on the outer edge of the coin were the words 'Utrum bonum vel alum, perdere quod destruit omnia'. I'd never seen or heard of those words before, nor did I know what they meant, but I had definitely seen the image of the swords and shield somewhere before.

"Wait a minute," I muttered as realization and recognition began to seep in, "isn't that..."

"Yes," Mauri replied, unable to fully hide the surprise in her voice and expression, "that is the Order's coat of arms, and if memory serves me correctly these are Hunter Medallions."

"Ah, so you're already aware," Qaedis replied happily, "good, good. That makes things easier."

"Actually..." I spoke up before he could move on, "I know about the Order of Nox Atra, but I've never heard of these Hunter Medallions. What are they? Er, what do they do, I mean?"

It wasn't Qaedis, but Mauri who chose to field the question.

"They are given only to the Order's most powerful and prestigious members and grant access to any town in any country that recognizes the Order of Nox Atra as an official organization," she cast Qaedis a look somewhere between awe and suspicion, "from what Darmund tells me, just having one of these in your possession gives you full diplomatic immunity and the authority to work above many laws. How did someone like you get their hands on even one of these, let alone two?"

"I actually have five of them," Qaedis replied with mirth and mystery in his eyes and smile, "but that's neither here nor there, and I'll keep the story of how I got them all in my pocket for another day," he motioned Miriam forward once more and placed the coins back in the chest, "perhaps I'll tell that tale once you've completed the task and returned to me. But for now..."

He dismissed the maid with a flick of his hand and I watched Miriam gently snap the box shut before giving another silent bow. She practically glided out of the room, just as quickly and gracefully and quietly as she'd entered. My eyes were on Miriam, but my thoughts were preoccupied with what Qaedis was offering. I wondered right along with Mauri how he'd gotten hold of not one, but five of these things. How many people would kill for something that valuable? What horrors would he put us through for just one of those?

Not only that, but I feel like walking around with something like that would put us in just as much danger as my Spellblade. Maybe I should just stick with the permit...

As the doors closed behind Miriam, I turned to Qaedis with a sudden question on my mind.

"But wait, if those Medallions are provided by the Order," I asked, "wouldn't we get in trouble if they found out we had one of them?"

"Not unless the Order finds out you're using it for nefarious purposes under their name," Qaedis replied simply, "as I said, they're only given to the highest-ranking members of the Order. If that member in question loses their Medallion to a thief, then it's their responsibility to retrieve it, and really..." he smirked, "who would be stupid enough to try and steal from someone like that?"

Huh... so it's okay for complete strangers who don't belong to the Order to use the Medallions as long as they don't go around committing crimes with it? That's... a surprisingly lax stance given what I've heard about the Order so far. I wonder if there's some kind of catch he's not telling us about...

And wait, if he didn't steal them, then... then does that mean he was—

As I pondered the possible consequences of using the Hunter Medallion and how the man possibly could've obtained them, Qaedis took advantage of the ensuing silence to continue speaking.

"Getting back to the heart of the matter," he began. He stepped his hands over the desk and turned a surprisingly stern gaze in my direction, "you have my thanks for taking care of the bandits camping out near my humble abode, Miss Sparkle."

The unexpected gratitude snapped me out of my troubled thoughts and I fumbled for answer for a moment.

"Oh, it was... i-it was nothing, really," I replied, very much not feeling I deserved any kind of praise for what I'd done, "it was... more an accident than anything else. I just got lucky..."

"A lucky accident, eh? A rather interesting way of putting it," Qaedis smiled knowingly at my response before moving on, "in any case, you have my thanks nonetheless. However, that is not the first, nor will it be the last I see of their ilk. You may have taken out a small camp, but there are most certainly more where they came from."

"Ah, so that is your plan then, is it?" Mauri said suddenly, "that seems a tall order for a novice, do you not think so, Qaedis?"

"A tall order?" I asked, looking between Mauri's grim frown and Qaedis' unreadable face, "what do you mean? What kind of... plan... oh ...oh."

And just like that, it clicked.

Maybe Mauri could do it, but does he seriously expect me to...

The look of horror on my face must've said it all because Qaedis let out a sigh of what I think was irritation or disappointment and shook his head.

"Tell me, Miss Bandal, are you always so quick to jump to conclusions?" he waved her response away before she could make it and forged ahead, "no don't bother with an answer. You have the right of it, but only by about half," he looked at me again, "if it were you alone I wouldn't hesitate to have you take care of the rest of those fools, but I'm not expecting that much from Miss Sparkle."

"Oh... r-right, sorry," I gave a pathetic sort of half chuckle of relief, "yeah, I... wouldn't be much use in a fight."

Not under normal circumstances anyway...

"That, my dear, still remains to be seen," Qaedis answered with another knowing smile, "but no, I'm not looking for you to wipe out the rest of the bandits. In exchange for two traveler's permits, I merely ask you to locate their hideout and return to me with the information, nothing more."

"Wait, so you just want us to find out where they're hiding?" I asked for clarification, "that's it? We don't have to fight?"

"Not even a little," Qaedis confirmed, "though I do expect a detailed report of their whereabouts."

"Alright... okay, yeah," I turned to Mauri with a hopeful smile, "I think we can do that much, right?"

"Not so fast," Mauri replied, not taking her eyes off Qaedis, "if we choose to accept, will we have any leads to go on, or are we going in blind?"

"No need to worry on that front," Qaedis answered, "I have a... contact of sorts within the Guild who will give you the information you need to get started. You'll find him in the branch located back in Thatch, but I'll tell you no more than that until you've accepted the job."

"Fair enough," Mauri nodded in satisfaction, "I think this is a fairly reasonable request all things considered," she finally turned to me, "if you are fine with these conditions, then I see no harm in accepting the task."

"Alright then," I looked to Qaedis, "I guess it's decided. We'll take the job... although..."

I frowned.

I really don't wanna ask because I think I already know the answer, and I get the feeling he isn't mentioning it on purpose, but still...

Unable to bite back my curiosity, I spoke my thoughts.

"So, um..." I hesitated, but Qaedis' expectant look forced me to continue, "so... what would we need to do in order to get those Hunter Medallions? You haven't said anything about it yet..."

"Ah, my apologies," Qaedis laughed, "you both seemed content enough to part with the permits and I'm well aware of the dangers those Medallions would bring you," he shrugged, "I also figured you wouldn't like the task I had in mind in return for them, so I decided not to divulge those details unless either one of you asked."

"Well, she asked," Mauri sighed, "so you might as well tell us."

"Oh, gladly," he replied with just a bit too much enthusiasm for my liking, "I don't expect either of you to accomplish such a feat, but..." he mouth spread in a smile that sent shivers down my spine, "...if you manage to bring me the head of the bandit's leader, then the Hunter Medallions are all yours."

At that point, any remaining appetite I had left completely vanished, and the regret I felt at having asked at all was immeasurable.

Episode V – The Mansion ~ End

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After Mauri and I had agreed to search for the bandit's hideout, the rest of the breakfast went by fairly quickly. Having lost the remainder of my appetite, I settled for waiting until Mauri and Qaedis were done. After that, Qaedis excused himself while we got ready to head back out to the guild in Thatch.

Thaddeus led us into the small foyer and the front doors to the mansion, but before we reached the entrance, the old scavenger showed up once again. Mauri and turned to see him heading downstairs towards us with Miriam close behind. Rather than Qaedis, my focus was on Miriam and what she was carrying in both hands.

Books? I can't see the titles from here, but...

"A moment if you would, Miss Sparkle," Qaedis called as he reached the foot of the stairs, "before you leave, I'd like to gift you something that might be useful to you in the near future."

"You? Handing your precious treasures over for free? With no strings attached? Chyet fa vala!" Mauri scoffed, folding her arms and giving the old man a skeptical frown. She jerked her head towards in the direction of the older butler who was still waiting by the door, "I would sooner believe Thaddeus over there was the second coming of the Night Mother!"

"For all you know, Miss Bandal, he very well could be," Qaedis chuckled goodnaturedly, somewhat mirroring Mauri as he stood at the bottom of the stairs with his arms crossed, "regardless of what you believe, though, I have no intention of asking anything in return—well nothing tangible at any rate," he paused a moment to think, then shrugged, "think of it as... investing in the future if you'd like. Miriam?"

At his unspoken command, the reticent maid stepped past him and made her way over to me. Once she was close enough, she presented the books she'd been carrying.

"Master Malouveus has graciously allowed you the use of these books on your journey," the maid explained in a clipped yet respectful tone, "the Master expects great things of you, so please read through them carefully."

I opened my mouth to reply, but my confusion and disbelief overrode anything I could've said. Instead, I turned behind me to get Mauri's input on the situation, but the smaller woman could only shrug in response. 'This is all you' was essentially all I could read from her expression, and from that, it was clear she had nothing to say on the matter. Realizing that I turned back to Miriam with an awkward smile.

"Erm... well if that's the case, I'll take them I guess," I finally replied, taking the books in question from Miriam and looking them over curiously, "but why are you giving these to me? You said it was an 'investment in the future'? What does that mean exactly?"

"It's just as Miriam says. I've taken an interest in you—or rather in the 'you' that I think you could become," Qaedis replied easily, "whether for good or for ill, I see in you the potential to shake this world to its very core, 'Amethyst' Sparkle."

"Ah..." I paused in the inspection of my newly acquired books and turned to give Qaedis a baffled look, "well I know I'm... not exactly normal, but 'shaking the world to its core'? Don't you think that's a bit..."

"Crazy? Over the top? An exaggeration? Pah! Not at all!" Qaedis interjected with a small but gleeful smirk, "whether you like it or not, you're a Spellblade Wielder, Miss Sparkle. I know not where or how you obtained that blessed blade upon your back and to be honest, I don't particularly care.

"What matters to me is what you intend to do going forward," the old Scavenger's smirk took on an oddly serious twist, "there are those that preach of the Great Harmony that will one day be brought about by the return of the Two Goddesses."

"I have heard this as well since leaving my homeland," Mauri chimed in somewhat sourly, "they say that the Celestial Sisters of Sun and Moon will gather Their Chosen Knights of Harmony and alight upon this earth once more to wipe away the corruption that plagues every corner of the land... or some bullshit like that," she scoffed again at her own words, "if I were you I would not put much stock in such nonsense."

"Oh? I was under the impression that the spiritual forest-dwelling Djävago were much more pious than that," Qaedis replied with a curious raise of his brow, "it seems I was mistaken, perhaps?"

"I am not as devout a believer as I should be I admit," Mauri explained, "but regardless, our faith surrounding the 'Goddesses', while sharing some similarities, is different than that of the Celestianism the rest of the world seems to practice."

"I see... well it seems I still have a lot to learn about the world even as old and well-traveled as I am," Qaedis replied with a helpless shrug, "but in any case, it seems we both agree on that point. I get the feeling you're not familiar with our religion, Miss Sparkle, but given what you do know, I believe you could guess at who these 'Chosen Knights of Harmony' are supposed to represent?"

I thought about what had been said with more than a bit of passing interest, and it didn't take me long to come to a conclusion.

"It wouldn't happen to be," I frowned, suddenly uncomfortable with the idea I'd come up with, "...they're not talking about Spellblade Wielders are they?"

"Precisely, or at least that's the working belief currently," Qaedis nodded, "there are some religious zealots out there that outright worship the leaders of the Order and the Unyielding Blade simply because they both use Spellblades. Being an unknown Spellblade Wielder yourself, I'd do everything in my power to avoid them if you can."

"Noted," came Mauri's impatient reply before I could get a response in, "now what exactly is the point you are trying to make by bringing all this up, Qaedis?"

"My point, Miss Bandal, is that, in reality, Spellblade Wielders—no matter their character or intentions—are far more likely to sow the seeds of chaos than any kind of peace or prosperity," his smile turned wicked as he looked to me and I couldn't help but shiver slightly as he said his next words, "it may not be apparent now but rest assured, you're very existence and the actions you've taken so far are already causing ripples that will grow into a monstrous wave that drowns the world in madness and anarchy."

There was a strange glint in the man's eyes when he said those words to me—an absolute, almost zealous certainty in his twisted expression. His tone was playful but I could practically feel his words crushing me under their weight. For a moment it felt like I was looking at an entirely different person altogether and a strangely familiar fear washed over me. It wasn't the same kind of fear I'd experience when I encountered the Headhunter either, but something else. Something I couldn't really explain in words.

Have I... met him somewhere before...?

I was certain I hadn't, but the question came unbidden to my mind nonetheless. I tried to search my memory for any recollection of the man, but naturally nothing rose to the surface... and yet the strange sense of familiarity and nostalgia remained. Before I could think too deeply on the sensation, however, Mauri spoke up, her words and tone snapping me out of my bemused reverie.

"Saying that kind of thing with such glee in your voice," she exlcaimed in a low and dangerous voice, "one could almost mistake you for a member of a certain cult of worshippers, Mister Malouveus."

"I'm afraid you have me mistaken, Miss Bandal," Qaedis replied in an even tone, his twisted expression gone as if it had never existed, "you must understand, it's been ages since I've met someone with the kind of potential this young lady possesses. I'm simply eager to see what fate has in store for her is all."

"Is that so?" Mauri replied looking thoroughly unconvinced, "well perhaps it would be best for all involved if you kept your excitement in check, yes?"

"Noted," Qaedis snarked with a dismissive wave before turning his attention back to me, "now then, Miss Sparkle, given your evident amnesia, I've taken the liberty of providing you with three books that may help you better understand your situation and the world around you."

As I listened to his explanation I took another look at the books I'd been given. Two of them were fairly hefty tomes with one being a bestiary of sorts with all kinds of information on monsters all over the world. According to Mauri who recognized it, the tome—simply titled The Bestiary—was required reading for every member of the Order during their training.

The second of the two large tomes was another copy of the book I'd already skimmed through back when I had stayed at Jack's cabin. A sudden surge of several different emotions welled up within me as my eyes roamed the cover of Hestenia: Understanding Our World—none of them pleasant in the least. Memories of my brief stay with Jack and his 'daughter' flashed across my mind and I clenched my eyes shut as I tried to suppress a shudder.

"Something wrong, Miss Sparkle?"

When I opened my eyes again I saw that Qaedis was eyeing me with a bemused frown. I looked over to see Mauri with a similar mien, though her expression was more concerned and I even thought I could see a hint of understanding there somewhere. Deciding it wasn't worth getting into, I turned back to Qaedis with an awkward and probably somewhat melancholy smile.

"N-No I just... I've actually read this before—well, looked through it a bit anyway," I finally replied, "it... brought back some recent memories I'd rather forget."

At first, the old Scavenger's frown only deepened, but then a look of realization suddenly crossed his face and gave a slow, solemn nod.

"Ah, I see," he said quietly, "while I don't know all the details, I'm sure it must've been hard for you. It wasn't my intention to bring up such painful memories. You have my apologies."

"No, I'm... I'll be fine, don't worry about it," I replied quickly before holding up the final book, "m-more importantly, what kind of book is this?"

The book in question was much smaller and thinner than the other two and, unlike the others, showed clear signs of wear and tear. Its worn, dark brown leather cover had no title to speak of and the pages within were yellowed, dog-eared, and tattered. It looked more like an old journal than anything but despite its apparent age and appearance, it didn't really feel like it was falling apart. Both the worn cover and the tattered pages were oddly sturdy and in fact, a quick flip through the book's pages revealed seemingly handwritten script that was still perfectly legible.

"That, my dear, is perhaps the most important of the three books I've given you," Qaedis answered in a weighty tone, "that is the personal journal of Requis the Wise, and it is a treasure that I hope you will hold close to your heart."

"Requis... the Wise?" I repeated, frowning at the journal in confusion, "who's that?"

"Requis the Wise," Mauri began in a quiet voice. She moved over to where I stood before plucking the journal out of my hands and looking over it herself with no small amount of awe, "a man who was said to be the second to wield a Spellblade after Alrik the Hunter."

"Right you are, Miss Bandal," Qaedis said happily before addressing me, "you see, Miss Sparkle, though Requis was gifted a Spellblade, he made for an exceedingly poor swordsman—or so the story goes. Alrik himself had offered to personally apprentice Requis, but had quickly deemed him hopeless.

"Cast aside by Alrik as a lost cause, Requis gave up the way of the sword and instead focused solely on learning to harness the 'magic' he'd been granted by the Spellblade. Though his physical capabilities were sorely lacking, he still managed to make a name for himself as one of the most powerful Spellblade Wielders to exist through his nigh monstrous feats of magic alone."

"For my people, magic was not entirely unheard of back then," Mauri added, "but we had no name for it in the human tongue. I was told long ago that for a time during his lifetime, Requis had lived amongst the Djävago, and that it was from him that we learned of 'magic' and 'mages' as humans understand them."

"Wow..." was all I could say as I took the journal back from Mauri, "and this is his journal? And wait, you already knew about magic? I thought only Spellblade Wielders could use magic?"

"This is not technically true," Qaedis chimed in, "while we humans can't normally use it, magic does and has existed supposedly since the dawn of time. There are some races and even some terrifying beasts out there that can utilize magic naturally," he paused as if to deliberate his next words, "if the oldest scriptures of the Celestian Church are to be believed, humans too were once able to wield magic without restraint, but..."

"...But what?" I asked curiously, "what happened?"

Rather than reply himself, Qaedis cast a glance towards the entrance where Thaddeus was still standing silently. As if prompted, the old butler sighed and began to speak.

"No one really knows for sure, I'm afraid, Miss Sparkle," he explained, "though a few still remain heavily guarded within the church, most of the old scriptures have been lost to time in one way or another. Among those lost are the scriptures that explain how, why, and even when humanity as a whole lost the ability to use magic."

"Magic these days, at least where most humans are concerned, is seen as nothing more than a myth," Mauri continued as she handed the journal back to me, "those who have never seen magic at work are hesitant to believe magic truly exists and those that do believe—rightly so—that such a power is only meant for those who wield Spellblades.

"My people cannot actively harness the power of magic as you or the other Wielders do, but we live in a place steeped in it since time immemorial. We cannot use magic as you do, but having lived surrounded by it over countless millennia has played a significant role in our evolution."

"So I take it that's why your people live so long?" I surmised, "and that's why you already knew about it before Requis introduced the concept of 'magic' to you."

"Correct, among other physical and biological attributes, we owe our longevity to magic," Mauri nodded, "back then, before that man arrived, we called it od and to this day we still use it to refer to what you humans call 'magic'."

"But when I showed you that I could use magic earlier it seemed as though you'd never even heard of it," I pointed out, "from what you're saying now, it shouldn't have been all that surprising, right?"

"I told you I had heard only stories," Mauri corrected, "Requis the Wise left my homeland long before I was born and I myself have never seen a human—Spellblade Wielder or no—use actual magic until today. It was... a fascinating thing to behold."

"It certainly was," Qaedis added, "and the journal you now hold in your hands will provide you with everything you need to know about the nature of your mythical weapon and hopefully how to use it properly."

"And you're just... giving this to me?" I asked, still stuck somewhere between gratitude and disbelief, "I mean, it's not like I'm not grateful, but something like this... I'd think it would be far more valuable than even those Hunter Medallions you have, wouldn't it? Isn't this an irreplaceable piece of history?"

"It is, but as things are now, it was just collecting dust on a bookshelf," Qaedis shrugged, "it was given to me by an old comrade of mine years ago, but I'm not a Wielder so I've no use for it," he smiled a grandfatherly sort of smile, "I'm giving this to you because I have faith that you'll make good use of it. Like I told you, this is an investment."

"Right," I muttered, "well, if you're sure then I'll do my best not to let you down," I paused to take a deep breath, then looked the old man in the eye, "I'll make sure none of these gifts go to waste."

"See to it that you don't," Qaedis replied, moving forward and clapping a hand on my shoulder, "now go on, you both have a long journey ahead of you. I recommend you not waste anymore daylight talking to this washed up old Scavenger."

"On this we are both in agreement," Mauri snorted. She regarded Qaedis silently for a moment before letting out a sigh of what might've been either irritation or resignation or both, "after having met you for myself, I do not believe you are the heartless devil others make you out to be. That said, I still find you a hard man to trust, Qaedis the Seeker."

"As well you should, forest dweller," Qaedis retorted, "to fully trust anyone in a world this cruel is the very height of folly. You would do well to remember this too, Miss Sparkle."

I'd been in the middle of tucking the tomes and journal away in my bag when his words made me freeze in my tracks. I winced and cast a glance in Mauri's direction as more unpleasant memories flooded my mind. Mauri returned my look, but if Qaedis' words bothered her she didn't show it. Instead she simply shook her head and began making her way to the entrance. Not wanting to leave things in such an awkward state, I address Qaedis again with a nervous smile.

"I'll... be sure to remember that," I finally replied as I finished packing away the books and hefting my bag over my shoulder, "thanks again for the books, Mister Malouveus."

"No thanks are necessary," he huffed, "just use what I've given you to better yourself and I will consider that thanks enough."

And with those words and a polite bow from both Miriam and Thaddeus, Mauri and I left the mansion and headed back out onto the forest path. In truth, there was so much more that I wanted to ask Qaedis about, but at the same time, I didn't want to be caught out in the forest at night again. Granted there was still some time left before noon, but the worry was still there.

I was sure I'd be able to get most of my answers from the books in my bag, but there were some things I doubt any of the books covered—namely, the Celestian Church and the religion surrounding it. I'd been hearing people refer to these Goddesses for some time and though I'd always ignored it before, I couldn't help the niggling questions forming in the back of my mind as I regained more of my old memories. I couldn't help but draw parallels between Celestianism and a certain Solar Princess I knew in my previous life.

Is there a connection there somewhere or is it just a simple coincidence?

I wasn't sure, and I had the feeling it'd be some time before I found out, if I ever found out at all. As I pondered on what I'd learned, I decided to ask Mauri what she knew about Celestianism and about the supposedly similar religion the Djävagoan people practiced. It was only a hunch at this point, but I was beginning to think that Celestianism might hold the answer the question of what had happened to me.

At the very least, it was a starting point—something to investigate while I waited for more of my memories to return. It was the only thing I could think of that might've held any connection between Hestenia and the world I originally came from.

And who knows? Maybe it might even be able to explain what 'that place' was.

~ Monsters will always exist. There's one inside each of us. But an angel lives there, too. There is no more important agenda than figuring out how to slay one and nurture the other. ~

Episode VI – The Hideout ~ Part I

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I wanted so badly to just sit down somewhere and crack open one of the books in my bag, find someplace cozy to sit, and just read the day away, but I knew it would be best to at least wait until we were out of the forest. Not only was I wary of running into something dangerous, but a heavy blanket of grey had begun to cover the sky as we traveled through the trees, and Mauri and I could smell rain on the wind.

With that in mind, we opted to pick up the pace and I instead listened while Mauri explained a bit about the Djävagoan religion. While the two deities were effectively the same, their actual faith told a very different story. The faith in question had no actual name attached to it and their beliefs were more akin to a myth or folktale than actual holy scripture. Though they acknowledged that there were two Goddesses, they worshipped only one—the one they called the 'Night Mother'—as their tutelary deity.

The idea that there were two Goddesses who were sisters that ruled over night and day seemed to be the only connection shared between Celestianism and the Djävagoan faith. Celestianism posited that the two Goddesses had always ruled side by side, working in harmony to spread peace throughout the world. Unfortunately, Mauri didn't know much more about Celestianism other than what Qaedis had mentioned.

With that being the case, I was left wondering what fate had befallen the Goddesses and why they disappeared from the world according to Celestianism. The Djävagoan faith, however, put forth the idea that the Night Mother was betrayed by her sister who herself had become a corrupt deity they called the Fallen Sister. As the story goes, the sister who ruled over the Sun had become corrupt after venturing into Tartarus to slay a powerful demon. Instead of slaying the demon she herself became a demon and attempted to wrest control of both night and day.

As far as Mauri knew, both sisters fought for days before finally killing each other off. This wasn't before each of them made a vow upon their inevitable return. The Traitor vowed to claim what she felt was rightfully hers, and the Night Mother vowed to rise again to protect the world from her tyranny. I found it all fascinating, but listening to Mauri talk about her faith, I noticed that the Spellblades and those who used them had no presence whatsoever.

"Everything I know about Spellblades I learned from my father and later from others who live here in this land," Mauri replied when I asked about the discrepancy, "the idea of Knights chosen by the Goddesses was something Requis the Wise spoke of when he lived among us.

"While we respect the man for what he accomplished, we never took heed of his beliefs. I myself never actually believed Spellblade wielders to be real until I witnessed Hrist in battle with my own eyes."

"So the Djävagoan people don't put much stock in Spellblade wielders, but you seemed interested enough in my magic," I replied after some time. I paused again as another thought hit me, "...and while I'm on the subject of magic, I also remember you telling me that the longevity of your kind is due to your sacred commune with nature. Now you're saying it's due to the magic surrounding your home?"

"We consider od—magic as you call it—to be part of nature," Mauri replied with a slight shrug, "even if we cannot harness it directly, od still affects us and the world around us just as the rest of nature does. We respect that just as we respect all that nature has to offer, whether it be through prayer, offerings, or simple spiritual reflection."

"Huh... now that you mention it, I could see that," I replied, staring down at my own hands as I thought back to the world I came from, "yeah, that sounds... kind of nice actually."

I didn't really give it any thought until now, but the magic that I have now... it's the same as what I saw in my memories, right? Does that mean I brought it with me? If that's the case, do I even need the sword to cast magic?

"I suppose," Mauri replied with little enthusiasm, "but all the fancy mysticism does begin to wear a bit thin after two hundred years or s—wait."

I was stopped short and forced to lean back slightly as Mauri suddenly shot out an arm in front of me.

"What? What's—"

"Shh!" she hissed, raising a finger to her lips.

I snapped my mouth shut and watched with equal parts bewilderment and mounting nervousness as she slowly lowered her hand and brought it to rest on the hilt of her sword. She scanned the trees around us with that same methodical sort of slowness. I could see her softly pointed ears twitch at every little innocuous sound and her icy blue eyes seemed to pierce right through everything she surveyed.

I followed her example and took a look around myself, but I didn't see or hear anything in the forest save for the gentle rustle of trees in the wind and the slow, steady rumble of distant thunder. In fact, the forest had become eerily silent since the storm clouds started rolling in. I figured it might've been because there was a storm coming, but given Mauri's sudden reaction, I started to think maybe that wasn't entirely it.

My attention returned to Mauri as she took a few silent steps off the dirt path we'd been walking, her eyes locked on some far point in the distance beyond the nearby underbrush. I desperately wanted to know what she might've heard or saw, but I didn't dare make a single sound for fear of distracting her from sniffing out some unseen threat.

Then she stopped and my breath hitched.

In a single instant that felt far longer than it actually was, Mauri drew her sword and slashed across the air in front of her. I heard the snap of the arrow before I saw its split remains scatter off to either side of Mauri, but it took another second for my mind to catch up to what had just happened and what was about to happen next.

A second was all it took for our unseen attackers to press their assault and Mauri's warning about an ambush came just as something sharp and unexpected hit my right shoulder blade with enough force to pierce right through it. It was the one spot on my upper back that hadn't been covered by my sword, my rifle, or my bag, which probably meant that the archer knew what they were doing.

The pain itself wasn't immediate, but the fear was instant and made me cry out anyway as I stumbled forward. Mauri had gone past and was behind me before I'd even realized she had moved, urgently telling me something I couldn't fully comprehend in my panic. All I knew was that it was a question of some sort—something about my body. Something about healing or mending and... an apology?

I was about to turn and ask Mauri what she was talking about when I felt her grab and practically tear the arrow from my back. That was when the pain really kicked in and the intensity of it made me scream in agony. The pain was so crippling I nearly crumbled to my knees, but again Mauri was there pulling me up and pushing me forward.

"If what you told me of your body is true, then the pain should pass quickly," she said in a rushed and clipped tone. She moved in front of me and grabbed my arm, pulling me along as she ran ahead with a strength that was greatly at odds with her small stature, "we cannot remain idle while we know nothing of their numbers or position."

Rather than argue, I just gave a pained groan in response and tried as best I could to follow her lead. I could feel the back of my traveling tunic growing wet and sticky with my own blood but sure enough, the pain hadn't taken all that long to dull to a point where I could at least put up with it. Desperately trying not to give in to mindless panic, I kept my eyes trained on the smaller warrior's back as she led the way, using her as an anchor to quell at least some if not all of my fear.

Not wanting to drag her down, I pulled away from Mauri's grip and pushed on ahead with my own two legs. She gave me a brief glance over her shoulder and moved a bit faster once she realized I was good to run on my own. She was a lot faster than I thought she had any right to be given her size, and I honestly didn't think I would've been able to keep up had it not been for our mutual differences in height.

Even then, Mauri didn't make it easy.

There was a certain assuredness in her agile movements that made it clear to me that the woman knew her way around a forest. It was almost as though she were gliding through the trees, weaving in and out of the foliage around her with practiced ease. In stark contrast, I was doing everything in my power just to keep her in my sight, screaming and flinching as arrows continued to whiz past my face every so often.

Once or twice I heard voices somewhere behind me, incomprehensible shouting that was thankfully growing more and more distant as we ran. My sense of relief was short-lived as I ducked an overhead branch only to look back up and see that Mauri had completely vanished right along with the path forward. I was so focused on getting away that I hadn't even noticed we'd been running up a grassy incline until it was too late.

I saw the cliff ahead where the incline ended, but I was going far too fast to stop and my momentum carried me right over the edge. For a moment I thought this was it and I was ready to pray to those two Goddesses I kept hearing about to save me, but my prayers wound up being a bit premature. As I toppled head over heels past the edge, the actual drop ended up being far shorter than I expected.

It was only a couple dozen feet or so up from the ground and it wasn't even a straight drop down. Rather, the incline ended in a steep slope and I found myself taking a rough tumble to the bottom. I hit and snapped a few loose branches and bumped against some jutting rocks, but it wasn't enough of a fall to leave anything other than some superficial bruises that would probably be gone in a few minutes.

It was a good thing too because I'd hardly gotten any time to recover from my fall and the resulting disorientation before I was once again yanked to my feet and pulled forward by Mauri.

"This way," she whispered sharply, "if we head past this bend we should lose them."

I followed after her and together we made our way along the curving path at the bottom of the slope. Physically I was still fine, even with the fall, but the mental exhaustion was beginning to get to me. I wasn't sure if the adrenaline was starting to wear off or if I was just tired of running, but I was beginning to lag behind.

"W-Wait!" I panted, "I think... I think we might be okay now!"

Mauri faltered and turned to see that I was falling behind. Her expression very clearly showed that she was not of the same mind. The irritation and worry on her face made me wince and regret at my own words washed over me for a moment. She opened her mouth, no doubt to tell me to keep going, but we were both distracted by the sound of dirt and rocks being violently dislodged somewhere overhead.

As one we turned to look up at the slope in confusion and saw that someone had not only caught up to us, but had somehow gotten right on top of us. The pursuer had drawn their sword and was dashing down the slope at a rapid but controlled pace. I stood there frozen in equal parts shock and horror—not because they'd literally gotten the drop on us, but because I recognized the attacker in question.

Closing in with her shortsword at the ready and vengeance in her brilliant golden eyes was none other than Havik Kultaina, the only survivor of the horrible slaughter I committed with my own two hands.

My face went pale, my mind went blank, and all I could do was stand there staring back into the eyes of a woman who clearly wanted nothing more than to see me dead at her feet. Memories from that night came flooding back in vivid detail as she approached, bringing with them a chaotic whirlwind of emotions that locked me in place. Not even when Havik raised her sword and leapt from the slope to cut me down did I react.

As it turned out, I didn't have to, because Mauri reacted first.

"Chyet!" she spat, pulling her emerald tinted blade free of its sheath once more as she raced to shove me out of the way, "focus, Sparkle!"

I grunted in surprise and staggered backward a bit before falling over. The impact was enough to knock some sense back into me and I was able to refocus somewhat on the situation at hand. Scrambling clumsily back to my feet, I returned my attention to Mauri just in time to see her nimbly sidestep Havik's plunging attack from the slope. Havik had leaped from a fairly high point on the slope and hit the ground hard, but if it affected her she didn't show it.

She was already rolling out of the way of Mauri's counter by the time she landed and the smaller warrior's downward strike, fast as it was, was avoided without issue. The dodge roll succeeded in putting some distance between the two swordswomen and Havik was able to recover back into a proper fighting stance—the same one she'd taken when facing me. Unfazed, Mauri wasted no time in pressing her attack and it was with the next clash of blades that the battle began in earnest.

It was like a dance.

A deadly dance of slices, lunges, parries, and sidesteps set to the tune of clanging and scraping steel—a dance I couldn't tear my eyes away from for even a moment. Havik in particular was far more skilled than I initially gave her credit for. Gone was the fear and hesitation of before, leaving in their place a warrior that could easily meet and even match Mauri's grace and ferocity. Green as I was when it came to the ways of battle, even I could see that each and every movement had a purpose—every strike meant to be the last.

When I thought back to what I went through—what I'd done to those bandits—it felt like some kind of horrible nightmare, but this was different. This wasn't a one-sided slaughter but a true battle, a contest between two skilled combatants. From the outside looking in, it was fascinating—awe-inspiring even. For a brief moment, I found myself so enraptured by the spectacle that I very nearly forgot that we were on the run.

It also took me a moment to realize that Mauri and Havik weren't as evenly matched as I initially thought. As I watched, I started to realize that the latter was gradually being pushed back. She'd noticeably shifted from a strong offense to more defensive movements, evading and avoiding when she could and desperately throwing up her blade to guard when she couldn't.

Judging by the sheen of sweat covering her face and her strained expression it didn't seem like she'd last much longer. It was only a matter of time before she made a fatal mistake and I couldn't imagine Mauri missing that kind of opportunity, not with her own grim and focused expression. Havik was bound to leave herself open likely sooner rather than later, and once that happened...

Mauri will probably strike the killing blow.

The moment that realization hit me, I felt the weight of what I'd done press down on me. It hadn't been there when the fight started, but now that she was struggling—now that she was losing this literal battle of life and death—I could see it again clear as day. I could see in Havik's golden eyes that same fear I saw back then. All the awe and fascination I felt then was drained out of me in an instant, leaving only a sick sense of dread and guilt in their place.

I acted before I even knew what I was doing.

Both fighters cried out in surprise as they were suddenly and violently pulled away from each other against their will, their bodies enveloped entirely in a brilliant magenta light as they each slid across the ground. Once I thought they were far enough apart I used my magic to tear both their weapons from their grip. It took little effort, no doubt due to how caught off guard the two probably were by my intervention.

Even I was shocked by my own actions, but that didn't mean I was going to stop, not if it meant someone was going to be killed in front of me. Unlike that night at the bandit's camp, I was in control of myself, and unlike the night Jack died, I actually had the power and mind to do something before it was too late. The fact that Havik wanted to kill me didn't even cross my mind at that moment. All that mattered was that the fighting stopped before someone died.

Only once I'd moved both weapons over to where I was standing and safely out of reach of Havik and Mauri did I let the magic fade from my trembling hands. With that done I let out a shuddering breath and fell to my knees, all my emotional energy spent. For a time, all I could do was stare at the ground below me as I tried to get my rapidly beating heart under control.

The only sounds I could hear were the heavy panting of the two exhausted warriors nearby. I felt both pairs of eyes on me, but I was too mentally worn down to care at the moment. All I wanted was to rest for a minute, then I could find a way to work things out between all of us somehow. That was the plan, but the plan fell apart before it could even begin.

In my haste and panic, I'd completely forgotten that Havik kept a dagger in a leg holster on her thigh. I was quickly reminded of that fact when I looked up at the sound of Mauri's shouted warning and found the furious platinum blonde charging in my direction with said dagger poised and ready to strike. I let out a startled shriek and, almost out of reflex, threw out a hand.

It lit up with the now-familiar glow of telekinesis and Havik was forced into the air and back the way she came, dagger and all. She landed hard on her back with a grunt and didn't move for a moment as she tried and failed to suck air back into her lungs. Mauri for her part, didn't hesitate to capitalize on that chance and moved to snap up the dagger Havik dropped the moment she hit the ground.

"Wait!" I cried, "Mauri, stop! Don't kill her!"

Mauri, who'd grabbed the dagger and was mere seconds away from driving it into her opponent's neck, froze mid swing and whipped around to look at me as though I'd lost my mind.

Who knows? Maybe I have...

"This woman very nearly took your life once!" Mauri shouted back, "and you would allow her the chance to do so again?!"

"N-No! It's not like that! I... m-maybe she can help us!" I replied, trying to think on my feet, "she was the leader of that group of bandits, I think. Maybe... maybe she could show us where their hideout is?"

That, at the very least, gave Mauri some pause and her expression told me she was contemplating the idea. It was just as she was about to respond that Havik tried to pick herself up, evidently having finally recovered. She rose up enough to try and snatch her dagger back from Mauri, but rather than be caught off guard, Mauri was thankfully able to evade the attempt.

Still crouched in front of Havik, Mauri jerked the hand wielding the dagger out of Havik's reach then twisted back around, using her other hand to smash the heel of her palm into the other woman's nose with enough force to snap her head back. It all happened in one quick and fluid movement, and with another pained grunt, Havik was knocked back down to the ground and didn't move.

"Is she..." I began tentatively after a moment, "did you—"

Mauri let out a partially frustrated, partially resigned sigh as she got back to her feet and brushed herself off.

"There will be more than a little pain and soreness when she wakes, but she will live," she replied, making her way over to where I was. She stopped in front of me and held out a hand to pull me up, "in the meantime—and against my better judgment—I will go along with your plan for now, though I have my doubts things will go so smoothly with that one."

"Thank you," I breathed, taking her hand and rising to my feet.

"Do not be so quick to thank me, my little Amethyst," Mauri sniffed, "this is likely going to cause more trouble than we can afford to deal with on our own."

She moved past me to collect her sword from where I'd left it on the ground. She turned a thoughtful gaze towards Havik's shortsword as she sheath her own blade. She hesitated a moment, then picked that up as well, appraising the sword with growing interest. Finally having a moment to actually look at the thing, I could kind of see why.

There was nothing overtly ornate about the sword itself; the hilt as a whole formed a simple T shape. The round steel pommel, black leather grip, and flat steel crossguard were nothing of note in terms of design. What caught my attention, and probably Mauri's, was the actual blade. The blade was pure white and its sheen was so brilliant that it was almost unnatural. I couldn't really put it into words, but there was something... ethereal about it. Otherworldly even.

It's not quite the same feeling I get when I look at my own sword, but... I don't know. Whoever made it must be an amazing swordsmith...

"I do not believe this sword was forged through normal means," Mauri surmised with a pensive frown, "at the very least I do not recognize the metal used to make the blade."

With that conclusion made she returned to where Havik was sprawled unconscious on the ground and took a few moments to unstrap the scabbard on her belt. That done, she eyed the leg holster for the dagger and after a second's thought, she unbuckled the holster and took that too. She sheathed both the sword and dagger before walking back over to me with both the scabbard and holster in hand.

"I hope you have something to restrain her in that oversized bag of yours," Mauri said somewhat irritably, "if not, I am going back to my original plan and putting her out of our misery."

"Um... well..." I set my bag down, opened it up, and rummaged around for a few moments, "hmm... oh! As a matter of fact, I do!"

After a second I pulled out a few lengths of thick rope and silently thanked Rosalyn for putting it on my list of things to pick up. I wasn't really sure what she was expecting me to do with the rope, but I wasn't going to complain now. Judging by Mauri's raised eyebrow as I handed her the rope, she was probably thinking the same thing. She shook her head and put the holster and scabbard into my bag before taking the rope and a cotton cloth she found in the bag and trudging back over to Havik.

I watched Mauri gag Havik with the cloth before binding her arms and legs in silence, my thoughts turning to the ambush of earlier and my earlier worries creeping back into my mind. I looked upwards toward the slope and listened for anything that might give the impression that the other attackers were close, but I didn't hear or see anything from where we were.

"It doesn't seem like they followed us," I commented, my anxious gaze still glued to the top of the slope, "do you think they gave up?"

"I doubt it," Mauri replied distractedly, "they probably had men keeping watch, waiting for the moment we left to take us out and raid the mansion, the bastards," she grunted as she tied one final knot and stood up with a satisfied sigh, "...we should find a place to hide and wait out the search party while we still can."

"Good idea," I muttered, hefting my bag over one shoulder and wincing at the twinge of pain from my earlier arrow wound. The wound itself wasn't openly bleeding anymore and the pain had died down to only a dull throb, but I could still feel it if I moved my arm in a certain way, "so... am I going to be the one carrying her?"

Mauri turned to look me up and down before shaking her head and plucking Havik off the ground and slinging her over her shoulder like the unconscious woman was a sack of potatoes. I was a strange mix of relieved, astonished, and amused. I was relieved because I was already technically hefting two swords, my rifle, and everything else in my bag.

Though I was still mostly fine with the weight, it was all starting to get a bit heavier than I would've liked. The astonishment came from the realization that Mauri really was stronger than her size would've suggested. It didn't look like she was having trouble lifting someone who was almost twice her height, but at the same time, the sight of it was kind of ridiculous and made me smile despite everything.

"No... I think you are already carrying far too much as it is," Mauri replied, trying to adjust for Havik's weight, "I can handle at least this much, but if this one wakes up and starts flailing around, I might need a bit of help keeping her in line," she threw me a small smirk over her shoulder, "you can do that for me with that magic touch of yours, yes?"

"Uh... y-yeah, I guess," I replied reluctantly. I looked over to Havik and thought back to that night again—thought back to the fear and anger. I remembered the pain from when she'd stabbed me over and over again and shuddered as my mind settled on that memory. I looked back to Mauri with a lot more conviction then, "yeah, you don't need to worry about that. I'll... I'll do what I have to if it comes down to it."

"Good to hear," Mauri replied, turning back around and moving forward, "now come, the weather grows worse and we may have a long way to go yet."

As if to prove Mauri's point, another rumble of thunder resounded across the sky, the sound much closer than it had been earlier. There hadn't been any rain yet, but I was growing nervous all the same. I really didn't want to be caught out in a downpour in our current situation, and with that in mind, I hurried after Mauri.

Episode VI – The Hideout ~ Part II

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Mauri and I traveled down the rocky path with an unconscious Havik in tow for about half an hour or so before we found any kind of shelter from the rain. Everything since Mauri and Havik's fight had gone rather smoothly all things considered. My fears about whether or not the other bandits were still looking for us had been confirmed when Mauri spotted two of them wandering the cliffside a little ways behind us.

Thankfully they couldn't see us from where they were as the slope from earlier had straightened out into an almost completely vertical cliff-face. We were able to throw them off by simply pressing ourselves against the rocky wall below. That had been the only close call we had, and the rest of the trek went without a hitch. Well, it did start to rain before we reached the cave we were now resting in, but it hadn't been too severe and Havik hadn't woken up even once.

At some point, I began to wonder if Mauri hadn't actually killed her, but the occasional groans I heard from the woman were enough to calm those fears. Mauri still wasn't happy about my suggestion to keep her alive and it wasn't like I couldn't understand where she was coming from. It was my life she was after, I understood that, but even if I didn't want to admit it, I killed her comrades.

Of course, I wasn't going to just lay down and die at her hands because I felt guilty, but I couldn't bring myself to do to her what I did to her friends either.

I can't do it... not while I'm sane enough to be horrified by the notion...

I still shuddered when I thought about that night and bile rose in my throat whenever I reminded myself of that sensation. I had some time to reflect on it and I realized I could still feel echoes of that heady sense of satisfaction as I practically disemboweled the red-headed woman. I remembered the ecstasy of crushing that zealot's head into pulp beneath my boot. And the last man...

I could still see the look on his face before I rent it in two, a strange mix of agony, terror, and hatred. These were all things I wanted to forget—emotions I never wanted to feel in that kind of context again, but I knew I would never forget. I couldn't be sure, but I also couldn't help but feel that deep down inside me that overpowering bloodlust and those sadistic voices still existed somewhere.

Those were the kinds of thoughts on my mind as we entered the cave roughly half an hour later. I would've said we were lucky to find it, but in reality, our path kind of made the discovery inevitable. As we walked, we eventually came to a large ravine with tall cliffs on either side of us and a small river in between. With our clothes growing damp from the rain, we traveled alongside the surging river until Mauri and I noticed the cave's entrance at the top of a gently sloping and rocky incline.

I was relieved at first, but that relief evaporated when a massive bear-like creature emerged. It looked like a bear, it had the physique of a bear to be sure, but the face was all wrong. If asked to describe the beast, I'd say it was like a mix between a bear and a large wolf. It must've been extremely territorial because it came charging out of the cave the moment we started making our way up the incline.

The reason I didn't count that encounter as a close call like the last encounter with the bandits is that, unlike the bandits who could still track us if they found us, the bear-like creature was an immediate threat that Mauri was able to make short work of. As soon as it came literally roaring out of the cave, Mauri had me take Havik in my magic and met the beast head-on.

I did so and watched on as the much smaller woman easily sidestepped a vicious swipe at the last moment and brought her sword down, lopping off its head with one swift and precise motion. The creature continued its charge for a few more steps, stumbled, then fell over dead. And just like that, the battle was over as soon as it had begun. Mauri had acted so quickly I hadn't even seen her draw her weapon.

Shortly after that, we entered the cave and used both my resources and what we could find nearby to set up a small camp. Mauri somehow managed to drag the bear-thing's body into the cave on her own. When I asked her why she would even bother, she told me it might attract the wrong kind of crowd—by which I assumed she meant the bandits. As she took the severed head I asked about the blood but she assured me the rain would take care of that issue.

Looking over our surroundings I understood her reasoning; the heavy downpour would wash the still wet blood down the rocky incline and into the river below. The problem was that if the bandits had gotten close enough to spot the creature they would've seen and searched the cave anyway. I was about point this detail out to Mauri but then I figured she probably already knew that was a possibility and wasn't too worried about it, so I left well enough alone.

The cave itself was moist and cold, but it wasn't long before we had a warm fire going and a couple of lightly used mats to rest on. Not having eaten nearly as much as Mauri during the breakfast Qaedis had provided in the manor, I decided to partake in one of the leftover loaves of bread and an apple. I offered Mauri the same, but she was still full from the aforementioned breakfast so I ate alone by the fire.

All the while, I kept a worried eye on the still unconscious Havik propped up against the cave opposite myself. Mauri stood over by the cave entrance leaning lazily against the wall as she kept watch for any sign of our pursuers. We'd spoken very little during the trip so as not to give ourselves away, but now that we'd found somewhere safe for the time being I couldn't help but speak up.

"I feel like she should've woken up by now," I said, frowning at the bound and unconscious woman. I turned to give Mauri a disapproving look, "just how hard did you hit her?"

Mauri, who'd been staring out at the pouring rain, shrugged and replied without turning to look back at me.

"The bitch should have been awake ages ago," she finally threw Havik a nasty smirk over her shoulder, "she is likely faking it, waiting for us to drop our guard... is this not the case, princess?"

"Wha—"

I whipped around just in time to see Havik... not make any kind of move at all. At Mauri's words, I half-expected the bound and gagged prisoner to leap into some kind of action, but she remained seated up against the wall, arms and legs just as restricted as before. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief and was about to tell Mauri off for scaring me like that when Havik opened her eyes and glared at me.

It was Mauri that had given her away, but evidently, the blonde woman only had eyes for me. I couldn't exactly say I was flattered given the vehement hatred in those brilliant golden irides. She started to struggle and I started to scramble away in response, but then she paused and her gaze flickered over to Mauri for a second. After a moment she seemed to think better of whatever she'd been planning and settled back against the wall with a frustrated grunt. She returned to silently staring daggers at me and I swallowed.

"Um... Mauri?" I began, my tone growing nervous as I stared back at Havik, "should I, uh... y'know... remove the cloth gag?"

"I would advise against it, but I will not stop you," she answered, turning once again to stare out at the rain with yet another dismissive shrug, "if that is what you want to do, go for it, just do not be surprised when she has nothing nice to say."

I considered that for a moment as I looked over the ropes binding Havik's arms and legs. My eyes settled on the gag in her mouth and I was brought back to when I'd been captured by her and the rest of her group. It hadn't at all been a pleasant situation to wake up to and something like sympathy pulled at my heartstrings. Making up my mind, I carefully move closer to Havik until I was standing right in front of her.

Her eyes followed me the whole time, rage and indignation written into every detail of her expression.

"I'm gonna remove the cloth, okay? So just..."

I reached out tentatively and paused. When she didn't make any sudden moves I continued, plucking the cotton cloth from her mouth. I was about to let out another sigh of relief, but the moment the cloth was free she gnashed her teeth, opened her mouth, and—

"Eat shit and die, you fucking witch hag! Whore! Fucking devil bitch! When I get free I swear on my mother's grave, I'm gonna f—phmmmff?!"

"Okay, I believe that is plenty enough from you," Mauri chirped as she yanked the cotton cloth from my hands and shoved it back into Havik's mouth, "you can have your speaking privileges back when you learn to behave like a proper prisoner."

I was so shocked at the sudden outpouring of profanity and insults that I hadn't even noticed the smaller woman's approach. For a good few seconds, I couldn't do anything but sit there and blink stupidly as I tried to process the violent vitriol directed at me. I don't think I'd ever encountered anyone who hated me so much, not even back in the world I came from.

It hurt far more than I was expecting to hear those words come out of Havik's mouth, but at the same time, I felt something... else. I couldn't quite pin down specifically what that sensation was, but I knew it was cold. Raw. Dark. What's more, the feeling wasn't entirely unpleasant... and that unsettled me more than Havik's verbal abuse ever could. It was as if the 'me' from that night was still in there somewhere, watching and waiting as it smiled that nightmarish smile.

"I warned you, did I not?" Mauri lightly mocked.

"Yeah, I... guess you did," I muttered, trying to pull myself out of my own thoughts, "I just... I don't know. It wasn't really all that pleasant when it happened to me, so..."

"Ah, so that is what it was," Mauri shook her head sadly, "you are a kind and sympathetic soul, Sparkle, but such sympathy is wasted on this one."

"I can see that," I replied, noting Havik's baleful gaze, "so what do we do in the meantime? Just wait until she's ready to talk?"

"We will hold out here until the rain lets up," Mauri grunted as she stood up from where she'd been crouched in front of Havik, "I doubt the downpour has driven off that woman's friends, and even if it has, they will likely be back on our trail the moment it stops."

She stretched and groaned before making her way back to where she'd been standing watch earlier.

"In the meantime, yes, we will wait until she is ready to act like a civilized human being and not some foul-mouthed ape," she waved a lazy hand in my direction, "we will likely be here for some time, so why not start on some of those books you got from the old man?"

"Oh, that's right!" I replied, my mood brightening considerably at the idea.

With the ambush and everything else that happened afterward, I had completely forgotten about the books I'd received from Qaedis. Scrambling over to where I'd set my bag down, I eagerly pulled it open and fished around until I found what I was looking for. I ignore both The Bestiary and Hestenia: Understanding Our World for the moment and removed the text I wanted to read the most.

The personal journal of Requis the Wise.

As I looked it over my mind wandered back to the conversation Mauri, Qaedis, and I had just before we left the mansion. Something Mauri had said pulled at my attention and I frowned. I tried to ignore the stray thought and focus on the journal but, the accusation Mauri had made continued to nag at me until I couldn't take it anymore. So, unable to hold back my curiosity I looked over to Mauri and asked.

"Hey, Mauri?"

"Hm?" she replied somewhat distractedly.

"When we were talking back at the mansion you implied that Qaedis might be part of some cult," I paused, then, "...what did you mean? What kind of cult were you talking about?"

Maybe the reason I couldn't let the question go was because of how Qaedis had reminded me of something or someone I might've met in the past. I reasoned that if Qaedis was part of that cult Mauri mentioned it might not only explain the sudden change in his behavior but also provide a clue as to why he suddenly seemed so familiar to me. It looked like Mauri was lost in thought but at my question, she snapped out of her apparent reverie and turned to me with a bitter grimace.

"Cultum Nigrum Papilio," Mauri intoned, "the Cult of the Black Butterfly."

I heard a sharp intake of breath at Mauri's words and looked over to see that Havik had tensed up. Her eyes were wide and she seemed to be looking in Mauri's direction, but from where I was sitting it seemed more like she was looking past Mauri. Her face had grown slightly pale and her eyes were unfocused. Evidently, the name had triggered something in the blonde woman, some dark memory maybe.

I furrowed my brow in concern and considered having Mauri explain another time, but my need to know more overrode my concern for whatever Havik was going through. Mauri, either not noticing or outright ignoring Havik's reaction, continued on.

"They are a group of twisted individuals who worship Khathaloto, a being said to be the god of primordial chaos and anarchy," she explained, "they believe that chaos and madness represent the true and natural state of the world and that all must be returned to that true and natural state."

"I see," I replied with a thoughtful frown, "so those that worship this Khathaloto would be in direct opposition to the Goddesses and Celestianism as a whole then?"

"They do indeed oppose the Church," Mauri confirmed with a grim nod, "and what is more troubling is that the cult has become large enough to properly and openly do so and have done so time and again over the course of the last decade or so, at least that is what I have heard."

"And you think Qaedis might be one of them?" I asked, "one of those Black Butterfly cultists?"

"Honestly, I do not know what to think of that man," she sighed, gazing out at the rain yet again, "but take heed, my little Amethyst. If you see someone with the brand of a black butterfly burned anywhere on their skin, you would do well to stay far, far away from them. Those people are... dangerously mad."

"Noted," I replied softly, doing my best to ignore the irony of those words.

I checked to see if Havik was okay but she'd turned completely away from me and I couldn't see the look on her face. I let out my own small sigh and returned my attention to Requis' journal. I tried thinking back to all the people I'd met since coming to this world, but I couldn't remember any of them sporting a brand like that. I certainly didn't remember Qaedis having one, but then again he could've been hiding it.

I shook my head at the idea and decided not to dwell on the matter anymore. Instead, I took a deep breath, moved a bit closer to the crackling flames, pulled open the journal, and began to read from the first page...

6th of Lunti, 1127

It has been just over two months since my mentor dismissed me as his student.
I would have liked to say that I left of my own volition, but that would be a laughable prevarication on my part. No, the fault lies entirely with me and I blame Master Alrik not in the least for my failings. If anything I should thank the man, for without his guidance I would have likely wasted many a year pursuing a path that did not exist for someone like me.
I admit I was more than slightly upset at first and acted quite foolishly when Master Alrik first announced that he would no longer teach me the ways of the sword. Ah, but Alrik's wrath is truly something to behold, and beneath that very wrath, it did not take me long to see reason. The Goddesses may have granted me a mighty gift, but it is all too clear to me that it was not the gift of swordsmanship.
I do wonder then why it was a blade that I was given and not something more befitting of my own skillset. Granted it is a most unique blade if ever there was one, but the question still remains. That question is but one of many that I have yet to find the answers to—though I will find them. I must. The Goddesses gave me a mission when they granted me this sword and I cannot hope to fulfill that mission without unlocking the secrets of this holy weapon.
It is for that purpose that I have decided to travel the world. It has been a grueling two months, but I finally have all that I need to truly begin my journey. I believe I may have discovered where my talents truly lie, but I am yet a novice and a fool who still has much to learn. Thus my first order of business is to find a new mentor, one trained in strange and arcane ways. Failing that, I will do whatever else it takes to develop this cryptic power on my own.
I have chosen to chronicle both my occult findings and progress in this journal I received from a kindly old woman back in Dyathan. I have since made it to the port city of Kakaelou and am scheduled to set out to sea for the continent of Palimus come the dawn. I sit here now alone in the musty old room of a rickety old inn by the sea. The night is hardly silent, as I can hear the constant crashing of waves against the distant shore.
It is not an unpleasant sound I admit. Indeed it is quite soothing to the ears, but it does little to lull me to sleep. For all the conviction I have put into the words upon this page I find myself ill-at-ease when I think of setting out to lands unknown. I know all too well how unkind the world can be, and that knowledge keeps me awake still. And so, bereft of proper rest I sit here writing this, my very first entry, by the dim light of a candle.
This will likely be the only entry in which I divulge such personal feelings in this journal. From here on out, I plan to keep my records as detached and clinical as possible so as not to muddy the academic integrity of my discoveries. I embark on this journey not as a warrior, for I know now that path was never meant for me. Instead, I will move forward as a scholar—as a student of the arcane and occult arts.
Pray for me, Mother, Father, Master Alrik, for I will need all the strength and wisdom the Goddesses are willing to provide if I am to succeed.

I finished the first entry and was more than prepared to dive into the rest of the journal, but I was gripped by a sudden realization. It was something I hadn't really given any consideration to looking back, and now that it was staring me in the face I was rather annoyed at myself for forgetting to ask about it.

"Hey, Mauri?" I began, slightly embarrassed at having only just now asked, "I know this is kind of coming out of nowhere but... what's today's date? And what year is it?"

Just as I'd feared, Mauri looked at me like I was an idiot, and I didn't blame her. I certainly felt like one. Thankfully she seemed to get it after a moment's thought and simply nodded in understanding rather than get on my case about it.

"If I remember correctly, the human calendar marks today's date as the 4th of Ignolis," she answered, "and the current year is 1815."

"Oh... alright then," I replied, "thanks."

I resolved to look up more information on the different calendar systems of this world at some point. As of right now, neither the name of the month nor the year meant anything to me. Well, that wasn't entirely true. If what Mauri said about the current year was true—and I had no reason to doubt that it was—that meant this journal was almost seven hundred years old.

That would put it somewhere around the time the Order was first founded. I could tell just by looking that the journal was old, but I hadn't realized it was such an antiquated relic. In my hands, I held what was essentially a window into the past as viewed by arguably one of the most prominent figures in this world's history aside from Alrik... or so I assumed.

I didn't know for certain if that was the case, but right then, I definitely felt like it was. My eyes roamed over the journal's worn leather cover with a newfound respect and an odd sense of nostalgia. Reading that first entry, reading about Requis' struggles and conviction to learn more about his magic... it stirred something familiar in me, much like what had happened with Qaedis but far... warmer.

It was something closer to the cherished memory of a friend, or maybe someone I once admired.

"Hey, I hate to tear you away from your precious books," came Mauri's contemplative voice, "but I need you to confirm something for me, my little Amethyst."

Frowning in bemusement, I looked up from the journal to see Mauri eyeing Havik with an expression I didn't like in the slightest. It was a look of a predator deciding whether to give its prey a chance to flee or simply kill it where it stood. At least, that's the impression I got, and it was making me all kinds of nervous. I don't know what changed in the time since she'd answered my earlier question about the date, but I already didn't like where this conversation was going.

"What is it?" I asked tentatively.

"You said this Havik woman was the leader of the bandits, yes?" she asked, taking a sudden and very ominous step toward the bound woman in question, "that she had been the one calling the shots the night you were captured?"

Havik stared back at the smaller woman defiantly, but I could the same nervousness, wariness, and suspicion in her eyes that I felt. I grimaced and gave a slow nod in response.

"Well, yes, but that was just in the camp," I clarified, "I don't know if she's the overall leader of the bandits."

"Well, given her skill with a blade, I am inclined to believe that she is the overall leader of the bandits," Mauri countered, now sporting a wicked smile as she approached a now slightly squirming Havik, "and you remember the offer Qaedis made if we—"

"Mauri, no!" I shouted, tossing the journal aside as I rose to my feet, "we don't know that for sure and you already agreed to have her lead us to the hideout!"

"Come, Sparkle, you and I both know she will never cooperate. She has too much fight in her for such a civil resolution," Mauri argued, her malicious grin widening as Havik's fearful eyes focused on her half-drawn sword, "best to take her head back to Qaedis and be done with this request, I think."

"No," I insisted, stepping in front of the helpless bandit, "I'm... I'm not gonna let you kill her just to make things easier for yourself."

My anger at what Mauri was doing allowed me to stand my ground and hold firm. Inside, however, I was panicking—fearful of what was about to transpire, and more than a little hurt by Mauri's actions. Mauri, for her part, stopped a few feet away from me, her blade still half-drawn and her expression entirely inscrutable. She didn't say anything for a long time and, afraid of a sudden attack, I raised my hands.

She watched me carefully as my hands began to glow with unreleased magic. I didn't know exactly what I going to do if this escalated any further, but I was prepared to do something. I was scared, but I wasn't just going to stand by, not if I could do something about it... or that's what I told myself. In reality, something else was beginning to take hold of me.

Almost unbidden, my eyes flickered toward my own softly glowing sword resting in its scabbard by the fire where I'd been sitting up until a moment ago. Mauri apparently took notice because she smiled and fell into the same stance she took when she fought Havik earlier.

"Do you really want to do this, Miss Sparkle?" she challenged in a low tone, "you may have magic on your side, but you are also within striking distance and I have seen the way your magic works. If we were to wager on who is the faster of us even with that magic of yours, I can guarantee you the odds would not be in your favor. Trust me."

I hesitated at the sheer confidence in her voice.

As far as I knew, my magic was instantaneous and went into effect the moment I poured my will into it. I had no reason to doubt that I could incapacitate Mauri before she even made a single move, but her words—no, the way she said those words and the look of complete self-assurance in her icy blue eyes made me hesitate. That wasn't the only reason I held myself back either.

There was also that other 'me' to consider. I could feel it trying to worm its way back into my mind and push me to fight. To kill. To feed. My mind was growing fuzzy as I stood there wallowing in indecision and I realized with growing horror that if I didn't make some kind of move soon, what happened next would be completely out of my control.

A beat of silence passed between us as I stood on a knife's edge, then two, then three... and then I heard a muffled shout from behind me.

Against my better judgment, but relieved to have a distraction, I turned to face Havik. The woman grunted and squirmed as she looked back at me with a meaningful glare. For a brief moment, I wondered what her issue was, but it didn't take long for me to grasp what she wanted. I returned my attention to Mauri and saw that she had sheath her sword and was now standing with arms crossed and an expectant look on her face.

"Well, go on," she said, nodding in Havik's direction, "it seems like the princess is ready to talk."

I blinked, then furrowed my brow in wary confusion. The dangerous aura that the diminutive woman had exuded just seconds ago had completely vanished as if it had never existed at all. A sudden suspicion began to form as I crouched down to Havik's level and pulled the cloth from her mouth. I was expecting another stream of insults and profanity, but as soon as I removed her gag she spat to the side and glowered at me in silence.

"You two wanna know where our hideout is?" she said after a long, uncomfortable moment. Her voice was low and dangerous as she spoke, "alright, I'll tell you—no, better yet, if you untie me I'll show you right where it is."

I didn't like her tone, and judging by the way Mauri frowned when I looked at her, she didn't like it either. I turned to address Havik, my frown matching Mauri's.

"How are we supposed to trust that you'll actually do what you say?" I asked, to which she scoffed.

"Your insurance is standing right there behind you, dipshit," she spat before nodding to Mauri, "if I try to fight, she'll kill me. If I try to run, she'll kill me. If I try to shout for help, she'll kill me. Not only that, but you have my sword and there's no way in Tartarus I'm leaving that behind."

I exchanged glances with Mauri and she shrugged.

"Fair enough," she said with a satisfied smirk, "if she tries anything she will find herself a head shorter than she was before."

I groaned at the horrible pun but was relieved at the same time as that simple, stupid joke had all but confirmed my earlier suspicion.

"You never had any intention of killing her in the first place, did you?"

"I was getting bored and the rain has passed for the most part," she replied with yet another careless shrug, "I would rather not stay in one place for too long so I decided to push things along just a bit," she moved closer until she was standing next to me and glared down at Havik, "I meant what I said about her lack of cooperation. This was the only way I could think of to get her to talk and it worked."

"And if hadn't?" I pressed, my frown deepening into a scowl, "would you have fought me to get to her?"

Mauri didn't say anything for a worryingly long time. She just continued to stare down at our embittered prisoner with that same inscrutable expression from before. Eventually, she did speak, though her voice was grave as she turned to look me in the eye.

"Would you have fought in order to stop me?"

The look on her face said exactly what we were both thinking. I didn't have to give her an answer because she and I both knew what the answer was, even if I didn't want to admit it. I opened my mouth, but I couldn't bring myself to say the words. Mauri nodded as if my silence was answer enough and moved to untie Havik's restraints.

"I told you that I would not let what happened before happen again and to that end, I will do what I must. I will act as your shield even if you end up hating me for it, for that is the strength of my vow, Amethyst Sparkle."

She paused in the middle of untying Havik's legs and, though she continued talking to me, her pale blue eyes bored into the bandit's, and her tone grew dark as she spoke.

"If this woman dares to bring you to harm again, she will die."

Episode VI – The Hideout ~ Part III

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I was more than a little nervous about what would happen when Mauri released Havik from her restraints. I was afraid the woman would lunge at Mauri as soon as she got the opportunity and had prepared to hold her down with magic if necessary. To my surprise, though, the only thing she did was rub her probably chafing wrists and grunt wordlessly before rising to her feet.

She shot a contemptuous gaze at the two of us—at me in particular—but other than that, she made no move against either of us. Instead, she stormed off, moving to lean against a wall opposite of where Mauri and I were standing. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence as no one spoke. Mauri and I looked from the quietly simmering Havik to one another.

After a second or two, the smaller woman snorted and shook her head. She made her way back over to the fire and plopped herself down beside it as she finally spoke.

"Hey, if she wants to spend her time brooding in the corner like an angsty whelp that is fine with me," she said as she began drumming around in my bag for something, "the rain is picking back up so we will wait a bit longer before leaving," after another moment of rummaging she pulled out a loaf of bread and idly tore off a piece, chewing as she continued, "...so long as she does not attempt to attack us or escape, I care not what she chooses to do in the meantime."

I winced at Mauri's flippant comment and turned to see Havik staring daggers at the green-haired warrior. Still, she didn't say anything and I wondered not for the first time what was actually going through her mind. At first, I just assumed she was thinking about how best to go about taking us out or making her escape or maybe both. That was still probably the case, but I found her sudden willingness to help strange and a bit suspicious.

If she hadn't tried to speak up Mauri and I might've tried to attack each other. Then she could've tried to escape then, but instead, she chose to help us. Sure, Mauri implied that she would've really attacked me, but Havik couldn't have known that... could she?

Was she just that perceptive? Or maybe she's trying to lead us into a trap? I was beginning to find both possibilities very likely. After all, we were essentially heading to where her group's stronghold was, and if we were to be caught by her friends, there probably wouldn't have been much we could do to stop Havik from escaping and joining her fellow bandits.

Why wait for Mauri and me to potentially kill each other? Why risk Mauri killing her for acting out when she could just safely collect her things after the rest of the bandits had taken care of us? The more I thought about that, the more I realized that was probably what she was hoping for. Looking back—and despite her aggressive words—Havik hadn't once made any kind of moves that could be considered rash since her duel with Mauri.

That evident patience and forethought painted the platinum blonde bandit in a new and frankly terrifying light. Still, something else was bugging me about the situation—about her motives, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. I wasn't willing to put the issue to rest so I thought back on everything that happened since she tried to ambush us.

When that failed to spark any ideas I swallowed my discomfort and forced myself to remember the night I first saw her. Thankfully it didn't take me long to realize what the issue was once I'd done some digging around in my memory of that night and my brows furrowed as more questions arose.

"You got somethin' to say, witch?"

I flinched and refocused my attention on Havik who was watching me with narrowed eyes. It was only then that I realized I'd been staring silently at her while I was lost in my own head this whole time. My first instinct was to apologize and I did try to awkwardly stutter something out, but then I stopped and took a deep breath. Havik gave me a weird look and I saw Mauri looking on with mild interest at the exchange but I tried to ignore that as I worked up the courage to ask what wanted to ask.

"Havik," I began, then paused a moment, then started again, trying to inject more confidence in my voice, "why did you agree to help us find your hideout?"

"Is it not obvious?" Mauri snorted, "if this hideout is at least halfway decent they will have sentries posted around the perimeter to spot intruders into their territory. She likely expects us to be discovered and dealt with before we even reach the gates."

I turned from Mauri to give Havik an expectant look. She crossed her arms and carelessly shrugged her shoulders in response.

"More or less," she confirmed, "I don't know what you're expecting to gain from storming the stronghold of the Dealande Bandits, but you two idiots will be mowed down by guns and arrows the moment you get in range of our lookouts," she gave us a nasty smirk, "if you wanna throw yourselves to the wolves, far be it from me to stop you."

That was basically the response I'd expected but I still wasn't satisfied. Unfortunately, Mauri replied before I could get another word in.

"Oh, I was not planning to just waltz through the front entrance," she replied with a cold smile and steel in her icy blue eyes, "even if you are not the leader, I am certain someone of your skill is fairly high-ranking, yes?"

Havik's cruel smirk fell into a wary grimace but she didn't say anything. Mauri didn't seem to mind and pressed on.

"I thought so," she nodded as if her suspicions had been all but confirmed, "with that being the case, I am also fairly sure you know where the patrol is weakest... yes?"

"It wouldn't matter even if I did," Havik finally spat, "even if you managed to get inside you'd just be slaughtered that much faster," she whipped around to face me directly, "my squad—the group you two butchered—are nothing. Nothing compared to the monsters holed up in the hideout."

She was speaking to both of us but her intense gaze was focused squarely on me. I stared back and, at first, all I saw was hatred. As I held her gaze though, I began to see something else beneath the surface. It wasn't just hatred or malice but something strange. It was a look that seemed to say you can't do anything even with your twisted witch powers, but that wasn't it. Not entirely.

If anything it's more like... like she's challenging me?

It was surprisingly easy to read the woman's true emotions now that I was paying attention, but I still didn't understand them. I didn't understand her motives or actions but Mauri's mocking laughter cut into my thoughts before I could dwell on the conundrum for any length of time.

"If you say that knowing what my little Amethyst and I can do, perhaps there is some cause for worry," she conceded to my surprise, "it is fortunate then that we have no need for such an infiltration. All we need is guidance to the location of your precious stronghold after that our work is done."

Havik's expression changed then. She furrowed her brow and I could practically see the gears in her mind turning furiously as she ruminated on some private thought. Apparently, she didn't like the conclusion she came to because her expression darkened further a few seconds later. Strangely enough, the look didn't last long and eventually she shrugged again.

"It doesn't matter," she decided after a moment, "the way I see it, you two shitheads are done for either way, so sure, I'll get you close enough to see the hideout... on one condition."

"I do not think you are in a position to make demands, whelp," Mauri replied in a dangerous tone.

"No, I think I am," Havik shot back with another smirk, "I highly doubt you'll find our hideout without me, and even if you do wind up in the general area, you'll just be picked off by our scouts and patrols."

"And if I told you that would not be a problem in the least?" Mauri asked with narrowed eyes.

"Then I'd call you a fucking liar and a fool," Havik replied easily, "sure you could probably avoid a few patrolling groups but not all of them, there's too many. Trust me, short stack. You. Need. Me."

"Maybe we should hear her out, Mauri," I said, finally putting in my two bits, "I know how much you thrive in places like this, but in this situation, it might be better to give her the benefit of the doubt."

"And what makes you say that?" Mauri demanded incredulously. She jabbed a finger in Havik's direction, "I do hope you are not suggesting we put our lives in her hands?"

"I'm just saying that in this instance we might actually need her," I argued, "if nothing else, she can tell us more about the bandits. I'm thinking Qaedis plans to send help to deal with the bandits and she could tell us more about them."

I expected Havik to object, but again she surprised me by remaining silent.

"We need her like we need the azkan plague," Mauri snorted in disdain before giving Havik a dirty look, "but fine, I will at least hear you out. What is this condition of yours?"

"In exchange for getting you close enough to see the hideout, you're going to give me my sword back," she demanded, pointing to the bag lying open next to the still crackling fire, "I don't give a fuck what you do with the dagger, but I want that blade back in my hands."

Mauri opened her mouth to reply, likely to refuse judging by the look on her face, but then stopped herself. She frowned at Havik and slowly rested a hand on the hilt of her own blade. The movement was subtle and I didn't think Mauri even realized she'd made the gesture. She must've seen something in Havik's eyes that I didn't because she shook her head a moment later and replied with a sigh.

"Fine, you will have your blade back if—and only if—we reach the hideout alive and intact," she huffed, "I am not so foolish as to believe things will go smoothly even if you do hold up your end of the bargain, but for Sparkle's sake, I will trust that you will keep your word at least until we reach our destination."

I had to admit I was a little touched at Mauri's consideration, but as much as I wanted to give Havik the benefit of the doubt, even I didn't trust her completely. I would've pointed out as much if I wasn't already certain Mauri wasn't being completely genuine about trusting the other woman. Still, with that agreement settled we now had something resembling a game plan.

I took a moment to check the weather outside and saw that the rain was coming down harder than ever. It had looked like the downpour was letting up earlier but it wound up coming back with a vengeance, bringing crashing lightning and booming thunder with it. There was no way I was traveling in that and thankfully the other two had agreed.

"So... where do we actually go from here to get to the hideout?" I asked, deciding to move ahead, "and how long do you think it'll take to get there?"

"The hideout—the Dealande Stronghold if you're picky about the name—lies to the north of Qaedis' mansion in the deepest part of the forest," Havik explained after a second of deliberation, "if we were to head straight there from this location without rest I'd say it would be at least..." she paused and her face scrunched up in thought, "...at least half a day's walk. Most of the day if we took the scenic route, which we'll probably have to do to avoid scouts."

I was a bit too slow in hiding my disappointment at how long it would take to get to our destination and Havik was quick to notice.

"Look, you Tartarus-born bitch, I told you what you wanted to hear," she sneered, "if you don't like it, tough shit. Feel free to give me back my weapon and I'll cut you down and be on my way."

"Oh, look at you, thinking you would even get a chance to try," Mauri shot back in a sickly sweet tone. Then her face grew dark, "if you attempt to even reach for that bag I will disembowel you where you stand."

"Hey, there's no need for all of that," I began, trying to dissolve the escalating situation, "it is what it is. We're not in any rush and I'd rather take my time than risk getting caught getting into a fight."

And to be fair, the hideout was closer than I'd expected even if it wasn't as close as I would've liked. Having realized that though, it did beg the question of why Qaedis hadn't done something about the place earlier if it was so close to where his mansion was. Maybe he had and failed? Or maybe it was so well hidden that he couldn't find it? But given the impression I had of the old man, that didn't seem right to me either.

Maybe there's something else going on that I don't know about?

"Oh, that reminds me, I have something I wanna ask you, witch," Havik began, cutting into my thoughts. She narrowed her eyes and moved away from the wall she was still leaning on to take a step towards me, "how the fuck did you make it out of that campsite alive?" she gestured to Mauri as she spoke, "I couldn't finish you off but the light was already leaving your eyes by the time that bitch showed up to try and save you."

I grimaced at the memory, my stomach turning at the thought of the agony I'd endured as the golden-eyed bandit gutted me over and over again. I was so caught up in the memory that I couldn't answer, or maybe it was that I didn't want to answer. In either case, I found I couldn't look Havik in the eye. Mauri was saying something but I had tuned the world out to focus on Havik's question.

How did I survive? I survived because I'm not human. If anything, I'm probably closer to the Headhunter than any of the people I've met so far. Havik is right, I'm a creature that doesn't belong here... but I can't leave. I don't know how or why I was even thrown into this world to begin with... but the answer has to be out there somewhere.

I just had to take things one step at a time, deal with each obstacle as it came, and keep on surviving to the best of my ability. At some point during my introspection, I'd managed to find some measure of resolve, but then my mind wandered back to the last conversation I'd had with that eldritch nightmare calling itself Owlowiscious. I hadn't wanted to take his 'advice' to heart, but I was beginning to wonder if I had a choice.

"I almost didn't survive," I said, cutting off whatever it was the other two were arguing about. Both the warrior and the bandit went silent and turned to face me as I continued, "sure I would've held on longer than most, but if Mauri hadn't found me I would've died in that camp eventually."

"Sparkle," Mauri nearly whisper after a brief but tense silence. Her face looked slightly pained at my response, "that's... you—"

"So you're not some indomitable demon that crawled out of the deepest depths of Tartarus," Havik interjected with a smile that, at a glance, seemed to convey grim satisfaction but to me just looked more relieved than anything, "you're just some psychotic freak with a stubborn hide... good to know."

I looked away and Mauri shot Havik a cold glare, but neither of us said anything in response. Havik, for her part, didn't give us a chance to reply in any case, as she'd begun walking over to one of the mats I'd lain out on the ground near the fire. She cracked her neck a few times and groaned tiredly before dropping down and stretching herself out onto the mat.

"If we're not leaving now, I'm gonna get some shuteye," she turned her body to face away from Mauri and me, but frowned at us from over her shoulder, "I trust no one here is gonna stab me in the back while I'm out?"

"What? O-Of course not!" I replied indignantly before shooting Mauri a pointed look, "we need you to help us reach the hideout, so it wouldn't make sense to attack you now... isn't that right, Mauri?"

"Niayt Molthah göe min seyn..." Mauri muttered with an exasperated roll of her eyes, then, returning my pointed look, replied in a flat tone, "I will not harm the bandit as long as she does not attack first."

"There you go," I said, turning back to Havik with a hint of satisfaction in my voice, "we'll wake you up when we're ready to leave, is that okay?"

"Yeah, fine, whatever," Havik yawned before turning away from us, "I don't care how you wake me up, just don't touch me, got it?"

"But of course, princess," Mauri answered with a mock bow and an impish grin that told me she was probably going to do just that when the time came, "your wish is my command."

Havik turned back around, but not to glare at Mauri like I thought she would. Rather, she cast one final glance in my direction. I couldn't read her expression but almost before I got a chance to try, her golden eyes flicked to the fire, or rather to something near the fire. I tried to follow her gaze and the only other thing I could see was the bag, still lying open.

I tried to figure out what she looking at or looking for but when I turned back around to face her, Havik had already turned away from me. I was a bit disconcerted and more than a little curious but it didn't look like I'd be getting any answers any time soon. Instead of dwelling on it, I decided to fill the time by picking up where I left off in Requis' journal.

Mauri had gone back to her spot over by the entrance, seemingly unphased by the cracking lightning and booming thunder outside. If anything I got a strange impression that she found the phenomenon rather fascinating. I lowered the old journal and watched her for a moment before my curiosity took over and I spoke up.

"Do you not have this kind of weather where you come from, Mauri?"

"Nothing nearly so intense as this, no," she replied, "Djävago is blessed with only light rain on occasion, really only enough to keep the flora healthy and the fauna hydrated."

"Wow," I said with some fascination of my own, "so you've never seen lightning or thunder at all before coming to Palimus?"

It was strange.

I knew of violent storms and the like, and though I had no memory of it, I also felt like I'd experienced that kind of weather before. The sights and sounds didn't surprise me at the very least and it was the same way for a number of different things I knew about but had no memory of experiencing. It was hard to describe, but the knowledge was there even if the memory of how and when I'd obtained such knowledge wasn't.

"Before I left my homeland I had only ever seen these kinds of storms from afar," Mauri answered, a wistful little smile crossing her face, "as a child, I would sometimes watch the dark clouds gather out over the distant sea," she shook her head, "the magic within and around our forests keep such violent weather from reaching the shores of Djävago... or so my father has said."

"I see," I replied after a short but rather comfortable silence, "so... in a strange sort of way, I guess this kind of weather reminds you of home?"

"Something like that," she said with a small chuckle, "my first encounter with this side of nature upon arriving in these lands was not pleasant, but I have come to appreciate both the beauty and cruelty of nature's skyborne wrath."

I didn't really know what to say to that but Mauri didn't appear to mind the ensuing silence so I let it linger and returned my attention to the journal. For the next fifteen minutes or so I sat by the fire, absorbing myself in the pages of Requis' journal. Just as his first entry had promised, the next few entries were full of notes—theories and formulae and sketches of strange runic-looking symbols I couldn't make heads or tails of.

I had expected something more well thought out and organized, but much of what the mage had documented was abstract and scatterbrained. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to his written thoughts. It was as if he was jotting down ideas as they came in a sort of scientifically minded stream of consciousness. He was making constant allusions to terms and formulas I had no frame of reference for.

It didn't take me long to realize that I couldn't capitalize on what he knew because I didn't know the science behind any of it. For all the knowledge and potentially groundbreaking secrets this journal held within, it was all but useless to me as I was now. With a despondent and frustrated sigh, I closed the journal and resolved to educate myself in whatever body of knowledge it took to understand the ancient mage's words.

That said, I don't even know when I'll get the chance. Hopefully once this whole business with Qaedis is over and done with...

"Something amiss, my studious little Amethyst?" Mauri asked curiously.

"Nothing that can't be fixed with a bit of research," I replied in a tone of tired resignation. I replaced the journal in my bag and pulled out another of the books Qaedis had given me, "it looks like I'll have to hold off on Requis' journal for now."

Since I couldn't yet unlock the secrets of my own Spellblade I figured the next best option was to bone up on the many possible threats I'd be facing in the future. To that end, I cracked open The Bestiary and spent a good chunk of time learning about all kinds of creatures that roamed the myriad lands of Hestenia. I was pleased to see that the descriptions of almost all of the beasts referenced were thorough and their sketches detailed.

In short, the book was everything I had hoped Requis' journal would be and I had a much easier time committing the knowledge to memory because of that. Out of a morbid sense of curiosity, I flipped through the pages trying to find any mention of the Headhunter, but I found none. There were many records of creatures whose existence was almost too horrifying to contemplate, but nothing in reference to that shapeshifting monstrosity.

I also check for any kind of mention of Owlowicious and had no luck there either, not that I expected to find anything. What I did find as I continued to peruse the pages of the book were ways to eliminate, incapacitate, or otherwise protect yourself from the beasts listed. It was easy to tell that this was a text meant for practical use by hunters, mercenaries, and members of the Order.

There were tips ranging from what weapons were most effective in taking down certain creatures to tactics for ambushing and capturing a potential quarry. The book showed where to find the creatures and even suggested when to run and when to fight or whether a beast was weak enough to be fought alone or should be tackled in a group.

It all seemed very well researched—almost as if the author had personally tracked each and every one of these beasts down themselves. For all I knew, that's exactly what they'd done, but that wasn't to say there weren't noticeable gaps in some of the information written. Some of the data shown for certain creatures in certain areas was sparse, giving only one or two sentences worth of information at best.

Other beasts had adequate descriptions but no associated sketch to go with it. These exceptions were few and far between but they were there and they made me wonder how much the information could be trusted. Still, what was here was enough to keep me enthralled for a good while, but eventually, I was pulled from my scholarly musings by a gentle nudge from Mauri.

I looked up from where I sat and was shocked to see Mauri looking down at me with a grim frown and looking as though she'd just taken a dip in a lake somewhere, armor and all. Looking further down I felt my stomach lurch at the sight of her elegant green blade drawn and darkened with splotches of dark red ichor. I was still trying to wrap my head around what I was seeing when the rain-soaked woman spoke, her voice full of deadly calm.

"I am sorry to interrupt your research, Sparkle, but I think we may have company."

Episode VI – The Hideout ~ End

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It was only a short time later that I found myself standing next to Mauri as we both stared down at the body she'd dragged out of the rain and into the cave. She'd dropped it next to the fire and in the warm light, I could clearly see the pale corpse.

Laid out beside the dead man were a large wooden bow and a worn-looking leather quiver still full of arrows. The bow looked old, but Mauri had given it an approving nod as she looked it over. I winced at the sight of it, and unconsciously rubbed the shoulder near where I'd been shot by an arrow much like those in the quiver not so long ago.

I couldn't help but wonder if he was the one who shot me, but that was now neither here nor there all things considered.

The man himself wore a curious mish-mashed getup made of brown and grey furs and leathers. He'd been a tall and lanky sort with a gaunt face and wild, shoulder-length black hair. For all my desperate attempts to do otherwise, I found myself staring into his cold grey eyes, still open wide with shock and unseeing in death.

His whole face was a frozen mask of surprise and agony—like he'd never seen Mauri's attack coming until it was too late. According to the diminutive warrior, he'd picked up our trail and had been snooping about in a small copse of trees lining the cliffside across the flooded river further up the ravine.

Mauri somehow sniffed out his presence through the wind and rain and went out to investigate while I was... otherwise preoccupied. She tracked him through the trees and, having assumed the worst, the woman caught him off guard and cut him down.

It was a relatively quick and brutal kill, the man stabbed through the heart from behind before he could scream for help. It was only after he'd been pierced through that he managed a very short but very loud gurgling scream before he died—or so Mauri claimed anyway.

She'd been wary of anyone nearby hearing the scream and had done her best to drag the body away and cover her tracks. And so absorbed in my study of monstrous fauna from around this new and dangerous world was I, apparently, that I hadn't heard or seen any of this.

She brought the corpse into the cave after explaining the situation and now we were both trying to figure out what to do next. Havik, having woken up from her presumably short nap at some point during Mauri's explanation, stood to one side, once again leaning against the cave wall.

Her arms crossed and her posture relaxed, she was the very picture of callous detachment—something I found odd for a reason I couldn't quite put my finger on. This was contrary to my own panic and revulsion, which came in the form of nervous fidgeting and a furrowed brow.

It had only been a few moments since Mauri laid out the body and no one had spoken in that time. I couldn't speak for the other two, but I just didn't even know where to begin with this situation. It was Mauri that spoke first, finally breaking the tense silence as she cast a grim look Havik's way.

"One of yours, I presume?" she asked curtly.

Havik didn't say anything in response for a long moment. Instead, she let her golden eyes sweep over the man, then his bow. Mauri grimaced in annoyance at being ignored, but just as she opened her mouth to spout some rude remark, the platinum blonde woman finally spoke.

"He's Dealande, but not one of mine," she replied matter-of-factly, "a scout most likely, probably one of the ones sent to check things out."

"So he came with you then," Mauri asked pointedly, "would that not make him one of yours?"

"No, smartass, it wouldn't," Havik spat irritably, "he wasn't in the raiding group I was part of. The boss probably sent him out from the hideout to keep an eye on the situation and you just happened to find him first."

I frowned in confusion.

"Wait, 'raiding group'? What do you—wait, if it was a raiding group, the only way that would make sense is if you were talking about the mansion," my eyes widened as realization hit, "you weren't after us, you were after Qaedis! That's why you were all out there!"

"Well, damn, you figured us out," Havik huffed with a sarcastic roll of her eyes, "nothing gets past you, does it, genius?"

"That would explain why you were in the area," Mauri pressed on before I could sputter out a reply, "but if you were already on your way to storm the mansion, then why the ambush? You could not have known we would emerge from Qaedis' mansion and for all you knew, Sparkle here was long dead before you arrived."

Havik snorted and turned to me.

"The ambush wasn't meant for you," she explained, managing to look both angry and unnerved, "that you happened to waltz out of the mansion looking as if I hadn't just stuck you like a squealing pig only a few nights before... that was a horrifying coincidence."

I winced and once again reached a hand up to rub at the shoulder nearest to my most recently healed wound. If Havik noticed my discomfort she ignored it and continued on.

"No, it wasn't for you," she shook her head, "our original plan was to draw out and take down Qaedis' guard dog before storming the place."

"Qaedis'... guard dog?" I asked, confusion probably written all over my face. I turned to Mauri for an answer, but she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts on the subject so I returned my attention to Havik, "what are you talking about?"

"You must've seen her while you two were dicking about in the mansion," Havik spat to one side, "I'm talking about that bitch Miriam."

"Miriam... wait, the maid?" I asked incredulously, "but that doesn't... I mean she seemed... well, she wasn't exactly nice, but she didn't seem dangerous."

"No, I can see it," Mauri said, nodding as if she understood perfectly, "that woman does not move like a simple maid. I wondered if there was something more to her and now it seems I have my answer."

"Really?" I muttered, still not quite able to believe it, "what about the butler? What about Thaddeus?"

"As far as I know, he is just an old man," Mauri said with a shrug, "a very capable old man, but an old man nonetheless. Havik?"

"No, he's just some old fart like you said," Havik answered with a shrug of her own, "the real danger is Qaedis himself, but if we can get his pretty little maid out of the way things would definitely fall in our favor... at least that was the plan."

"And I foiled your plans by sniffing you out," Mauri surmised, "ah, well, I suppose you had no choice then."

"Yeah, thanks for that," Havik sneered.

"I am not apologizing," Mauri smirked, "your failure was a result of your own bad luck."

"Um... maybe we should put all that aside for now and find out what to do about the current situation?" I suggested in an attempt to head off any further arguments. I cast an uncertain glance at the mouth of the cave behind me and saw that the rain was still coming down hard, "should we move on or do we want to hold up in here and hope the other bandits don't find us?"

"Well, that depends," Mauri answered, turning to give Havik a questioning look, "would your boss have sent more men with the scout do you think?"

"Dunno, probably," Havik replied uncaringly. She nodded toward the scout's corpse, "if you're asking me, I'd expected to see at least two or three more guys where he came from."

A small silence fell over the cave as we all tried to figure out a solution that wouldn't get us killed. I was sure Mauri could handle two or three bandits on her own. I even had a fair bit of confidence that I could assist if need be, but I wanted to avoid a fight if I could help it. I looked between the other two, waiting for their input.

"Should we go with our original plan or—"

"Hold that thought, my little Amethyst," Mauri interjected, cutting me off with an urgent whisper. She raised and turned a suddenly sharp gaze to the cave entrance, "I am not so sure we are alone anymore."

My heart skipped a beat as I whipped around to spot anything lurking out there beyond the cave. My eyes swept the area beyond the currently overflowing river outside but I couldn't see a thing through the rain. I couldn't hear anything either and was amazed that we could all hear each other let alone anyone wandering around out there.

"I don't hear a thing," Havik said, mirroring my own thoughts, "you sure you're not just being paranoid?"

Rather than respond, Mauri raised a hand to signal silence, then dropped it to the hilt of her blade in much the same way I'd seen her do during the ambush earlier. All the while she never once took her eyes off the entrance. Watching her move towards the mouth of the cave with such caution had my stomach twisting in knots.

Resolving not to be caught off-guard again, I backed away from the entrance and prepared to use my magic at the first sign of an attack. A thought struck me and I turned just in time to see Havik trying to subtly inch her way toward my bag.

When she saw me watching with furrowed brows she just clicked her tongue in annoyance, raised a hand in what I could only assume was supposed to be some kind of rude gesture, and stepped away from the bag in a quiet huff. I couldn't help a small pang of my own annoyance at Havik's antics though my feelings on the matter were probably due more to anxiety than anything else.

Wanting to focus on a possible ambush, I telekinetically zipped up the still open bag and brought it over to where I was standing. Another moment's thought and I brought my rifle and sword as well. It was just as I'd grabbed my sword that a battle cry rang out and was cut short, the cry turning to a gurgling gasp.

My eyes snapped back over to the cave entrance where I saw Mauri yanking her sword out of a large and stumbling silhouette of a man. It had all happened so fast that I almost missed it. Once her blade was completely free of the man, Mauri danced away, quickly retreating back into the cave as four more silhouettes brandishing swords and axes closed in from either side of the entrance.

Panic kicked my mind into overdrive and all rational thought gave way to flight or fight instinct. Adrenaline flooded my veins and though my initial reaction was to flee, something else pushed me to raise my hands. With a cry that was equal parts terror and defiance, I forced my magic forward.

I'd meant to push the attackers back, but it was my sword that shot forth instead. Already unsheathed from its scabbard and wreathed in a brilliant magenta-colored aura, the pink and violet blade sailed through the air. It crossed the short distance between myself and the small group of aggressors in an instant, shooting past a startled Mauri and sinking into the face of one of the bandits with a sickening crack and squelch.

The impact was enough to send the corpse of the man flying back out of the cave. For an instant, none of the other bandits moved as the body hit the wet ground outside. All eyes had turned to the sword sticking out his head, all except Mauri's. Barring her initial shock, the woman had otherwise been undeterred and used the distraction to launch her own attack.

I looked on as she cut down another unsuspecting bandit, hands frozen in the air and eyes wide with horror at what I'd done. I hadn't meant to kill anyone. At most I'd wanted to either detain or disarm and leave the more gruesome work to Mauri. I'd only wanted to distract and yet something pushed me to act.

Was it fear? Panic? Some innate need to protect myself?

It was all of those things but I knew on some deeper level that it was more than simple survival instinct. I knew deep down that I'd wanted to do that, and though I tried to deny it even now, I knew where that secret desire had come from. That horrible yearning. That longing. That hunger.

I was so caught up in my own mind that I hardly noticed my own rapid, gasping breaths. Sudden vertigo made the world lurch around me. My vision grew hazy with an emotion I was desperately trying to push down even as my hands twitched with a craving I vehemently refused to acknowledge.

I could almost hear the faintest whisper of another voice somewhere in the back of my mind when—

"Oh for fuck's sake! Move!"

—I found myself viciously shoved to the side. At that same moment, a brilliant glint of white caught my eye from somewhere in my peripheral vision. An instant later a thick line of white steel flew past me and impaled itself into the shoulder of a heavyset, heavily bearded man covered in furs.

The man had somehow managed to bypass Mauri and had gone straight for me with an axe raised and a furious bellow. Had it not been for the timely rescue of Havik of all people, the bandit would've cut me down and I wouldn't have even seen it coming.

I was so messed up in the head that I'd let an enemy get close enough to nearly kill me without a fight. I'd been pushed to the ground where I watched stunned as Havik stepped over me, her shining white blade in hand as she fought off my would-be killer. I looked down and to my right to see that my bag had been thrown open when I wasn't looking.

Turning back to Havik and the struggling bandit, I found I couldn't even be mad or worried that she'd gotten her sword back. She'd just saved my life even though she had no reason to. She could've just as easily stabbed me in the back but she didn't. Questions upon questions buzzed around my head, but an angry shout brought me back to reality.

"Dammit!" Havik growled as she raised a boot and kicked the skewered bandit off and away from the sword she stabbed in his gut. She rounded on me as the large man fell to the ground, her expression furious, "if you're not gonna fight, then stay the fuck outta my way, got it?"

All I could do was nod dumbly and scramble back, catching sight of Mauri's battle as I did so. Seeing what the smaller warrior had to deal with, I could understand how she'd managed to let one bandit slip. At some point during the initial attack, more bandits had shown up and Mauri was facing them all on her own.

I counted at least three or four more bandits and realized that the main force must've found us somehow. We were effectively trapped, but even knowing this I couldn't help but marvel at Mauri's ability to fend them off so thoroughly. It didn't even look like she was struggling all that much, but that might've just been what it looked like to my inexperienced eyes.

Suddenly I was glad that Havik had taken up her sword again. Seeing Mauri's plight, I opened my mouth to ask Havik to help, but she'd already turned away and was charging into the fray once more. That just left me alone, on the ground with my back against the cave wall near the no longer burning firepit.

Watching the two other women fight for their lives and mine as I just sat there trying to get my own emotions and shaking limbs under control, I started to feel increasingly useless.

But I'm not useless, though. I know I'm not. I'm no Mauri but I can do something, right?

I felt my hands clench into fists as Havik's words rang over and over again in my mind. The look on her face as she turned away from me to help Mauri. There was anger—rage even—but I saw something else there too. It was something like disgust or disappointment. Like I was letting her down somehow, but why would that be?

What does she want from me? I thought she wanted to kill me. I thought she hated me enough to kill me. She did try to kill me! Twice! But now... now what? What is she thinking? What's her goal here?

I shook my head, my eyes clenched shut as I tried to bury my own disgust at myself under questions that seemed to matter less and less as the battle raged on in front of me. I knew I should help. I wanted to help, I honestly did, but there was something holding me back and I knew exactly what it was.

It was fear, plain and simple. Not fear for my own safety, but a deeper, existential fear. A fear that if I willingly went in there and started killing I wouldn't be able to stop. A fear that I'd revert back to that thing with its insatiable hunger. That horrifying scenario was at the heart of my hesitation. I wanted to avoid that madness at all costs, but I also knew that if I didn't do something—

"Forget Kultaina an' the green bitch!" cried a gruff voice over the noisome din of clashing steel, "Cassius wants the purple-haired wench! Get rough if ya need to but bring her back alive, yeah!?"

My eyes shot open and I looked up to find several of the bandits—those still standing—breaking away from the fight and heading right for me. I heard Mauri and Havik curse and even saw them try to give ground to help me, but three more bandits, including a man that absolutely towered over everyone else, pressed in on them, locking them down. The rest were free to focus their attention on me.

And that was the final straw. The deciding factor. The breaking point. Something snapped and a familiar giddiness began to bubble up from somewhere deep in my core. There were no people here, just nameless threats to be eliminated. Obstacles to be torn down. Meat to be consumed.

The feast was kind enough to bring itself to me and I was so, so hungry.

The group of men must've sensed some kind of change because every single one of them faltered. Deciding that wouldn't do and growing more impatient by the second, I helped myself to one of them. The man cried out in alarm as his body left the ground.

Caught in a bright haze of magenta light, he could do nothing but howl in horrible agony as his limbs ripped themselves from the rest of his body. Thoroughly shocked by my spectacular display of dismemberment, the other bandits tried to scramble away. The ridiculous sight just made me laugh as I dropped the pieces of bandit and rose to my feet.

A quick flick of my wrist was all it took to wrench my sword out of my first victim and send it flying back into my waiting hand. A sense that everything was going to be just fine came over me as I held the pink and violet blade aloft and admired it. A smile began to creep across my face but my joy was cut short as that same gruff voice from before called out.

"By the bloody pits of Tartarus!" he roared angrily, "get it together you lot! She's just one woman! She ain't like these two harlots! She's soft! Weak! Yeah she knows a few tricks but you bring her down together an' she ain't worth shit! Now pull your Goddesses damned heads out of your Goddesses damned asses an' get to it!"

The hapless grunts seemed to find their nerve at his bellowed command and with a collective roar they all charge at once weapons poised to do me serious harm. Again the sight of it sends me into peals of laughter. I was already reeling from the nonsense their supposed leader was spouting.

Weak he says.

Soft he says.

Before the group of maybe four or five men could get too close I raised a hand and used another one of my 'tricks' to freeze them all in place. Each and every one of them stood bound in place mid-stride, my magic wrapping around them all like a warm blanket.

Any bravado they'd gained from their boss had quickly and thoroughly been snuffed out. All that was left now was fear, and that was just fine with me. It's what I wanted. It's what the little voice in my head wanted. I craved it almost as much as I craved watching the light leave their eyes.

With a few sauntering steps I'd gotten close enough to look them each in the eye individually. My own violet eyes roamed over the assembled faces until they stopped on one of the men near the front of the pack. The man in question was rather handsome with short, black, windswept hair, a clean-shaven face, a chiseled jawline, and bottomless seafoam green eyes.

I took a moment to stare into those gorgeous eyes of his, savoring the moment as horrified realization shone bright and clear within them. I could practically smell the terror, a stench that only grew as I raised my Spellblade and slowly, sloooowly pushed the blade through his leather cuirass, past the flesh and bone, and into his heart.

I watched that beautiful face twist in unbelievable pain, watched the blood bubble from his lips, watched his body try to twist and jerk in the grip of my telekinesis. Only after his eyes grew dull and his body grew still did I pull my Spellblade free, take a step back, and let the corpse drop to the ground.

Feeling I'd made my point to everyone watching, I let the others go as well. They stumbled forward on shaky legs. Some even fell over as they tried and failed to recover from the awkward positions they'd been frozen in. Despite what their leader said, the last few bandits were all quick to put as much distance between themselves and me as possible.

Unfortunately for them, I was faster.

It wasn't long before I was dancing among them. ripping through their flimsy armor with wild abandon. My Spellblade sang as it sliced into limbs and torsos and necks. My magic hummed along to the thrilling beat of snapping bones and tearing flesh.

Joyous cackles rose amidst anguished cries and tortured screams. Within that beautiful bloodbath, all the worries and fears of only moments ago seemed to vanish, carried away on a fetid breeze of death and despair. I'd forgotten how good it felt to let go and wondered why I'd even hesitated in the first place.

And then the world lurched again and reality hit me like a cold bucket of water.

In a cruel repeat of that fateful night, I suddenly found myself once again on my hands and knees. My vision blurred and I felt my body practically shake itself to pieces. There was some kind of commotion somewhere above me, but I couldn't be bothered to pay it any attention as I heaved and retched my entire bodyweight in disgusting grey bile.

Among the many scattered limbs and the overpowering stink of freshly spilled blood and sick, the only saving grace was that this time, there was no lingering voice. I'd heard it earlier but couldn't remember for the life of me what it had said. I'd given in completely. I was having too much fun. I'd slaughtered all those bandits and had the time of my life.

Oh, Sweet Celestia what did I do? What did I... Celestia? I—

A hand closed around one of my arms in a firm grip and I was violently yanked up and onto my feet before I could pass out. The sudden movement had my world spinning all over again but the extra shot of fear and adrenaline kept me conscious enough to notice a few things.

The first was that my body was being pelted by what I could only assume was rain judging by the smell. The second was that I was being supported on someone's back and that the person in question was on the move. I tried to open my eyes, but I was too weak to do even that much so I just had to guess and hope I was right.

"M... Mauri?" I rasped weakly.

"Not quite," grunted another familiar voice, "by the Goddesses! Del was right... you weigh... a fucking ton! The fuck... do you eat? And you smell like blood and shit."

"H-Havik?"

"Yeah, it's me," she growled, "just shut up and don't move too much, alright? If you start flailing all over the place I'm dropping you and leaving your ass for the wolves."

The... wolves?

My curiosity became too much and with a tremendous amount of effort, I forced my eyes open. The first thing I saw was the retreating steps of Havik's boots upon a dark path of loose gravel, broken sticks, thick branches, and wet soil. I tried to raise my head but that proved to be a bridge too far.

This looks like a forest path, but... weren't we just in a ravine? Did I pass out after all?

"What... happened? Where are we? Wh-where's Mauri?"

"Back at the cave trying to be a hero," Havik scoffed, "the bitch made me swear to keep you safe on pain of death while she kept the big guy busy."

I winced.

"All... on her own?"

"I mean, you took everyone else out," Havik said, her voice oddly quiet among the loud pitter-patter of rain, "damn near took our heads off. I think you might've if you hadn't keeled over like that."

My stomach sank and I suddenly felt cold for reasons other than the rain. I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn't come anymore. For a long moment, neither of us spoke and Havik continued to trudge through the forest. Eventually, she spoke again.

"Turns out the ravine doesn't go much farther than a mile or so," she explained, "found a path up and now we're back in the forest."

"Oh," I muttered, now fighting to keep myself conscious, "did I... pass out?"

"Probably," Havik replied, "you were muttering about something or other for a while before you went quiet."

"Oh..." I muttered again, feeling more and more delirious by the second, "I hope Mauri's okay."

"Who knows."

"...Hey, Havik?"

"What?"

"...Thank you."

I meant it, too. I had no idea what her motivation was for saving me when she had ample opportunity to kill me and Mauri, but I really was grateful. Maybe it was voicing my gratitude that did it, but I finally felt like I could rest and leave things in Havik's hands.

Deciding then and there that the blonde woman wasn't as bad as she made herself out to be, I finally began to slip into unconsciousness. I hardly even registered Havik's small chuckle before I was completely gone to the world.

"Don't thank me just yet, devil bitch."

~ Let innocence be your mask. Let your beauty hide your heart. Let your enemies count you as a friend. Let no one see your true self. ~

Recollection III – The Book of Stones

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A distant, muffled voice reached my ears as I blearily blinked my eyes open. My vision cleared slowly but surely and I could see that I'd been resting my head and hooves upon a large oak table. Atop the table itself were books stacked upon books.

Some were closed, others lay open, the pages lit by the arcane amber glow of magically illuminated candles. Even at a hazy glance, I could tell I was surrounded by all manner of tomes and texts. This was as much as I could register in my groggy state. This and the gentle, but insistent voice coming from somewhere nearby.

"Huh...? What? What is it?" I mumbled as I searched for the source of the voice, "who's there?"

"Ah, finally," came a friendly, wizened old rasp from behind me, "a pleasure to have you back in the world of the living, Princess."

I turned to find an elderly unicorn stallion with a beige coat and a wild grey mane and beard staring back at me with a patient if slightly amused grin. I blinked a few times, trying to remember who the stallion was through the fog of my tired brain. I looked back into his sparkling green eyes and when the answer finally hit me, I gave the stallion a smile that was equal parts tired and sheepish.

"Oh... it's, uh... good to see you again, Mister Scroll," I greeted with an awkward chuckle, "I take it Princess Celestia sent you down here to check up on me then?"

"That she did, Princess," the old archivist confirmed with a nod, "and from the looks of it, I'd say her worries were well-founded," he raised a bushy white eyebrow, "how long do you think you've been holed up down here in the restricted section?"

"Um... well," I winced and turned away, tapping a hoof on the table as I thought back to when I'd come down here, "I think I came down here about... three days ago?"

"And how long has it been since you've had anything remotely resembling a break?"

"I've had a few breaks for lunch and the like," I argued.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"..."

"Yes, that's what I thought," Ancient Scroll sighed before setting the steaming plate of pancakes and hashbrowns I'd only just noticed he was holding in his magic down on the table beside one of the open tomes, "normally food isn't allowed in the archives, but seeing as it's you we're talking about, Princess Celestia is willing to make an exception."

"Oh wow," I inhaled the aroma through my nose, wondering if it was the smell that woke me up rather than Ancient Scroll himself. I must've been really out of it to not notice such an exquisite fragrance, "thanks, Mister Scroll. Did you make this?"

"Ha! I only wish I were so good a cook," Ancient Scroll scoffed with a shake of his head, "no, this came from the royal kitchen. I'm just the one that brought it down here."

I nodded as I took up the provided fork and knife and dug in. I only realized just how hungry I was when I took that first bite. The rest of the meal was bliss and the coffee Ancient Scroll set down next to me as I ate was icing on the proverbial cake. Though, oddly, the meal wasn't enough to fully wake me up, even with the coffee.

I wondered if maybe it was my surroundings. The restricted section of the Royal Archives was located down a long winding staircase. The staircase was separated from the main repository by a sealed door at the back of the room and you needed special permission from Celestia to enter.

Naturally, I'd obtained such permissions long ago and was free to use the restricted section at my leisure—something I was constantly grateful for. It wasn't just because of the knowledge that I loved this place, but the atmosphere was surprisingly cozy for a place that supposedly housed information on some of Equestria's deepest, darkest secrets.

Sitting inside one of the castle's towers, the room itself was circular in structure and larger than one would've imagined given the tower's outer dimensions. The space consisted of multiple floors with bookshelves lining every single wall from top to bottom.

There were several places to sit and not only was the room warm but the lighting was dim. Small sconces dotted the walls and each table had a small candelabra. The flames in every sconce and lighting every candle were magical, enchanted so as not to cause the books any harm.

The isolated nature of the restricted section along with its warmth and the dim lighting all gave the place that cozy feel. It was very easy to get lost in your work and I wasn't at all surprised that I'd fallen asleep referencing... something. I frowned as I tried to remember what exactly it was that I was reading about.

Thinking back, the whole reason I'd come down to the restricted section was that I couldn't find the answers I'd been looking for in the main repository. I'd already spent close to a week looking for a way to ensure Equestria's safety without having to rely on the Elements of Harmony.

I remembered my search hadn't been going well as every 'solution' I found in old magical tomes or the journals of past Equestrian heroes had one fatal flaw or another. I'd even gone so far as to reference books relating to war tactics and some ancient dossiers on different campaigns fought on both Equestrian and foreign soil.

I knew on some level that I wouldn't find a real solution in the public repository. What I was looking for was something that you probably wouldn't find any knowledge of just lying around. At least, that's the feeling I got. And so I made my way to the restricted section where I'd spent the last three days scouring the shelves for information the general public wasn't privy to.

I found things I hadn't even known were being documented. I found several journals penned and apparently submitted to the Crown by Daring Do—not the author J.K. Yearling, but the real-life explorer and archaeologist behind the books. The journals detailed ancient artifacts and scriptures deemed too dangerous to remain in the public eye.

Then there were all the confiscated manifestos of past villains and tyrants, including several of the records of Sombra's experiments regarding dark magic. I'd actually recovered some of these from the Crystal Empire myself, though I hadn't actually perused any of them until now.

I learned so much—far more than I ever wanted to know, really—about how twisted our world and the creatures that inhabited it could truly be. I remembered Celestia telling me during our lunch that first day that she'd had to make some hard decisions in the past, decisions she wasn't proud of, but it was only now that I realized just how difficult those choices really were.

I learned that Celestia's hooves were far from clean, and finding out some of the things she and her sister had done to protect their little ponies were eye-opening, to say the least. Still, I was mature enough not to let the past cloud my love and adoration of the mares they were now.

Despite all the knowledge I'd gathered though, I still had no definitive resolution to my problem. At least, not one that I was satisfied with. If anything, I'd discovered far more ways to destroy Equestria than to save it. That malicious little voice in the back of my mind that we all had now had several ideas on how to overthrow the other Princesses and take over Equestria.

If I'd wanted to, I could do it right now.

I could lay out three different plans and carry them all out right now. They would all be shockingly easy to pull off given all I knew about the Princesses and Equestria in general. The thought made me shiver in revulsion and I wasted no time in pushing the ideas aside.

I chalked up my grim musings on the content of my studies combined with a lack of proper sleep and moved on. I looked over the books I had lying open on the table in front of me, moving the now empty plate and mug out of the way as I searched.

"Is something wrong, Princess?" Ancient Scroll asked as he took the plate, utensils, and mug into his own telekinetic aura, "if you need help finding a certain book, I'd be happy to assist. I am the Royal Archivist after all."

"Just looking for the book I was reading before I fell asleep, but I can't seem to..." I paused a moment before whipping around to give Ancient Scroll a brilliant smile, "of course! I'm such an idiot! Mister Scroll, do you know of any books or maps or... or anything that might reference a power that rivaled the Elements of Harmony?"

"A power that rivals the Elements, you say?" he repeated in a thoughtful tone, "hmm... let me see what I can scrounge up. Just gimme a minute...."

With that, his horn flashed a soft amber and the dishes vanished with a magical pop. A moment later the old stallion himself disappeared with another pop. A third pop somewhere above me told me the stallion had relocated to another floor of the restricted section.

I could hear Ancient Scroll mumbling to himself as he searched, but from the bottom floor I couldn't make anything out. I waited for him to finish, realizing only then that I probably should've elaborated on what I was actually looking for specifically.

I thought about teleporting up to where he was to tell him, but another wave of exhaustion blurred my vision. I really had been neglecting my sleep this past week or so despite my promise to Celestia to take it easy. In the end I decided to just let Ancient Scroll know once he came back and made a mental note to apologize to Celestia later.

It wasn't much longer before I heard the older stallion give an enthusiastic 'ah-ha!' before reappearing next to me with a single book a moment later. I found myself surprised by his abrupt return and with a book I seemed to have completely missed no less.

I had read a great many of the books in the restricted section, but thinking on it, I supposed it was silly of me to think I'd gone through even a fifth of the classified information this place contained. There was every chance something had slipped my notice and though I was a little annoyed at the fact, I couldn't deny a bit of excitement.

"You found something?" I asked eagerly.

"Possibly," Ancient Scroll replied with a careful frown, "you'll have to see for yourself, but I think this might be what you're looking for. But, Princess, what is this all for if you don't mind me asking?"

"Of course not, Mister Scroll," I said, hopped out of my chair to get a better look at the book, "to put it in simple terms, I'm looking for something to act as a failsafe in the event that my friends, as the Elements of Harmony, fail to protect Equestria from another major threat."

I took the book from Ancient Scroll and looked it over with an inquisitive frown. The book in question looked old. Terribly old. For one thing, the pages beneath its dark brown cover were brittle and yellowed with age. Even at a glance, I could tell that a preservation spell was all that was keeping the thing together, literally.

Another tell was that the cover itself was made of hard, rough leather. Unlike the synthetic leather used for books nowadays, this was real leather. Ponies hadn't used real leather for anything since the Two Princesses took up the throne well over a thousand years ago.

The final clue as to the possible age of the book was that the faded title was written in Old Ponish. The name of the book gave me pause.

"Sé Bóc of Stánas... the Book of Stones?" I muttered before flipping the book open and skimming through the pages. After scrutinizing the words for a moment I gave Ancient Scroll a curious look, "it's all Old Ponish. Can you actually read this?"

"Come now, Princess," Ancient Scroll chuckled, "I've told you before that I was once a teacher. Not only do I know Old Ponish, but I've also taught it."

I frowned at that, trying to search my memory for the conversation. It was vague, but there was something there. I'd known Ancient Scroll since I was a filly and my calling him 'Mister Scroll' had been a holdover from those days when I would wander the main repository. I also had a great deal of respect for the stallion.

I couldn't quite remember when he'd mentioned his time as a teacher, but given how long I'd known him, I supposed such a subject would've come up at some point. In any case, I brushed the distracting thought aside in favor of perusing the book a bit more.

"So what am I supposed to be looking for?" I asked as I scanned the pages, "why this book in particular?"

"Ah, well... funny story, that," the stallion stroked his beard as he spoke, his expression pensive, "I was the one who donated this particular book to the Archives, you see."

That caught my attention and I looked back up at the archivist in surprise.

"No kidding?" I said with a bit of wonder, "this came from your personal collection?"

"Well now, collection is a strong word," he replied with a chuckle, "no, this was a book handed down to me by my father, who inherited from his father and he from his father and so on and... well, you get the idea."

"A family heirloom passed down from generation to generation," I nodded slowly, "and you chose to give up such a precious relic to the Archives? Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful and I'm sure Princess Celestia is too, but why do such a thing?"

"Why does anypony do such a thing?" Ancient Scroll replied, giving me an assessing look as though he really was the teacher and I the student, "because, in the wrong hooves, that knowledge can be dangerous. Very, very dangerous."

After reading over a few notable entries, I felt like I could see his point. Even as I asked, there were some details that stuck out to me about these so-called 'stones'. To begin with, while they were technically stones, the way they were described made them seem more like large stone tablets or monuments of some kind.

Assuming my Old Ponish was up to snuff, the book talked about the existence of three stone monuments hidden throughout the entire world. These monuments had first been carved and sculpted by an ancient tribe of minotaurs known as the Vorðr thousands upon thousands of years in the past.

The tribe in question appeared to have existed in an age long before the documented birth of Star Swirl or the Two Princesses, something I found fascinating. There actually weren't all that many records regarding the history before Star Swirl's time.

That alone gave this book value beyond measure in my opinion, but getting back to what I'd learned, these weren't simple stone monuments. The Vorðr used their unmatched skill to carve and sculpt these monuments out of a special stone they called blðdþigenstán. I wasn't completely sure of the term, but I was fairly sure it meant something like 'bloodstone'.

Once the monuments were built, a circle of Vorðr sorcerers known as Seiðmenn used Seiðr magic to inscribe mystical runes upon them. The magic in these runes was evidently meant to bind a singular fate to each of the three stone monuments.

And then there was the entry that led me—and likely Ancient Scroll—to believe these stone monuments weren't something to be trifled with lightly. The Book of Stones gave only vague details regarding the fates held within each stone. The problem was that once unbound, that fate would affect not only the invoker but the world around them as well.

The entire world.

It looked like activating any one of those stones could change the past or the future for better or ill. That was a scary thought to be sure, but in a way, I realize that might've been exactly what I was looking for. If all Tartarus broke loose and Equestria was on the brink of collapse, then maybe one of those monuments could change that course of history.

It took some searching, but I found out that each monument had a name that alluded to the fate bound to that specific stone. The names in question were Brosnungestán, Edstaðelungestán, and Blædgiefastán—the Stone of Ruination, the Stone of Renewal, and the Stone of Prosperity respectively.

My eyes widened and a hope that I hadn't even realized had started to fade suddenly sparked back to life as I read the names. This was it! This was the solution I'd been looking for! This is what I'd been losing sleep over for the past week.

Everything I needed was right here in this book and I could've kissed the old stallion for donating it to the Royal Archives and bringing it to my attention. The Stone of Ruination did me no good and, while I could make a couple of guesses, I wasn't one hundred percent certain of the Stone of Renewal's purpose.

But the Stone of Prosperity was something that spoke for itself. The Stone of Prosperity was something I could use to presumably ensure a prosperous future for Equestria. Now all I needed to know was where to find the monument I wanted and how to make it work.

I scoured the book for any clue on how to actually invoke the power of the monuments, how to unbind the fates held within, but couldn't seem to find anything. What was worse, the more I concentrated on the words, the harder it became to make them out.

It wasn't until I staggered slightly and the book nearly slipped out of my magical grasp that I noticed how lightheaded I'd become. I shook my head and blinked a few times before straightening up with a grimace. I really did need some actual rest, and Ancient Scroll agreed wholeheartedly judging by the look he was giving me.

"Perhaps it would be best if you picked this up tomorrow, Princess," the old archivist suggested, "Princess Celestia has already risen the sun, but I believe a bit of sleeping in would do you some good. In fact, you should probably take an entire day to—"

"No, no, I appreciate you looking out for me, Mister Scroll, really I do," I interjected with a raise of my hoof, "but I'm almost there, I can feel it. If I can just get a method and location, I'll have everything I need and can finally get a good night's—er, day's rest."

Ancient Scroll's only response to that was to give a disapproving frown. That frown quickly turned to surprise when I shoved the book in his face.

"Anyway, I'm looking for a way to invoke the monument's power but the book doesn't say how. I can't find anything hinting at any of the monument's locations either," I explained quickly, "I know there has to be some kind of explanation, but I think I might be overlooking something due to exhaustion."

Ancient Scroll pushed the book away with an exasperated sigh.

"Well, if that's the case, then why don't you just—"

"Could you help me with a bit of research, Mister Scroll?" I pressed, "normally I'd ask Spike to assist me, but I left him back in Ponyville," I frowned, annoyed at myself, "I knew I should've taken him with me. If I'd known how much trouble this would be..."

Ancient Scroll just chuckled at my grumbling before taking the book into his magic.

"How about this, Princess?" he offered, "I'll see what I can find out about these monuments for you. I'll even take notes, but—" he raised a hoof to forestall my enthusiastic agreement, "—in exchange, you have to go back upstairs and get some rest in an actual bedroom with an actual bed, and you have to do it, now. Agreed?"

"Agreed? I... you..." I stuttered before giving the stallion a pleading look, "wasn't this your book once? Can't you just tell me what you know and I'll take the notes?"

"Filly, it's been nigh on thirty years since I've even seen this book, let alone read it," the elderly stallion replied in the stern tone of an admonishing grandpa, "I'm old. My memory isn't what it used to be. Hay, I have enough trouble keeping track of all these tomes and you expect me to have memorized everything in this book?"

"W-Well, I just figured... y'know," I muttered, feeling thoroughly abashed, "I assumed you'd read the book so many times that you knew it front to back."

"Well, I'm sorry to say that I had neither the time nor the patience to do such a thing," he huffed before waving the book in the air, "now, do we have a deal or should I get the other Princess down here to convince you?"

"Wha—hey, that's not fair!" I cried indignantly, "you never said anything about getting Princess Celestia involved! That wasn't part of the deal!"

"It's not part of the deal," Ancient Scroll asserted with a sardonic smirk that didn't fit his wizened features, "it's what I'll do if you refuse."

"I... you... ugh! Fine!" I snapped irritably before storming my way past the grinning stallion and up the winding staircase leading to the main repository. I stopped once I was a few steps up and whipped back around to jab an angry hoof in Ancient Scroll's direction, "I'll capitulate this time, but those notes better be positively immaculate!"

With my final piece said, I turned and continued up the stairs, all the while ignoring Ancient Scroll's wheezy laughter at my expense. I left the Royal Archives and made my way through the castle's many halls. On the way to the bedroom Celestia had reserved for my personal use, I took some time to reflect.

I hadn't even known minotaurs possessed the kind of magic that could create relics so powerful. Thinking back on it, there was quite a lot I didn't know about the minotaur race. There was also the matter of why the Vorðr tribe even made the monuments in the first place.

After stewing over it, then ruminating on it for a while, I also eventually realized that Ancient Scroll was probably right to do what he did. I was in no state to ponder the possible motives or machinations of an antediluvian tribe of creatures I knew almost nothing about. And it was that line of thought that led me to another realization.

I did need to sleep, and badly. I was so out of it that I'd completely neglected to mention what monument I was looking for. I only figured that out once I entered the room and now that I was here the exhaustion seemed to hit me that much harder. I was in no condition to teleport back to the Royal Archives and there was no way I was walking all the way back either.

In the end, I decided to just jot down a quick note on a piece of parchment and teleport that to Ancient Scroll. It wasn't nearly as taxing as teleporting myself and once that was done I could just hop right into bed, something I did with far more relish than I expected. A smile full of relief and satisfaction crossed my face as I pulled the blankets up and closed my eyes.

Even if Ancient Scroll doesn't find the information I need, I now have something to go off of... something I can use. I have leads I can follow and I'll follow them, even if those leads take me beyond the borders of Equestria.

Episode VII – The Bandits ~ Part I

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A muffled bang followed by the distant sound of laughter jolted me out of unconsciousness. I'd only just inhaled a breath to scream when that was scream was muffled to near silence by something cold, rough, and grimy. Even in my shocked and disoriented state, my brain was able to register the something as a hand that clapped itself tightly over my mouth. I whipped my eyes around in a full panic, trying to find the person attached to the hand. I took in the dark room I found myself in without really registering any actual details. Looking forward and to my left, my terrified gaze landed on a pair of cerulean eyes that somehow managed to glint brightly in the smothering darkness.

Who...?

The thought was fleeting, and I quickly tossed it to the side as I called upon my magic to push my assailant away. To my further shock and horror, nothing happened. There was no magical hum or ethereal magenta glow. That warm energy coursing through my entire body—that otherworldly sensation I'd come to know when using my magic—was gone. Completely absent. My panic rose to new heights, and I struggled to pull myself away from those almost luminescent irises, only vaguely aware that my hands were tightly bound in front of me. Before I could get too far, the unseen figure with the brilliant blue eyes clamped another hand on my shoulder and shook me roughly.

"Goddesses damn you, girl! Get ahold of yourself, would you?" a masculine and strangely cultured voice hissed. "You keep struggling like that and you're liable to get us both killed, you hear?" The harsh but quiet voice made me pause. The voice sounded firm and in control, but I could just make out a bit of panic hidden beneath. I focused on the man's obscured features, blinking a few times as my eyes tried to adjust to the darkness. It took a moment, but eventually my vision cleared and I realized the room wasn't as dark as I initially thought. My surroundings were bathed in the far too dim glow of a flickering orange light—the kind that came from a nearby fire.

The first thing I noticed was that my 'room' was in fact, a small prison. Wet, dark grey stone surrounded me on all sides save for one wall which wasn't a wall at all, but a row of thick iron bars. Built within the iron bars was a heavy looking iron door, no doubt locked from the outside. From where I was sitting against one of the walls, I could just make out the dull glow of a single torch next to another heavy iron door at the top of a small set of slick cobblestone steps beyond my prison. The room outside my prison cell consisted of another set of prison cells on the opposite side of a narrow stone corridor with the aforementioned iron door at the top of the steps at one end of the corridor.

I couldn't see what lay at the other end of the narrow corridor, nor could I make out if there was anything or anyone else in the other cells. The air was damp and moldy and as I finally took in the myriad unpleasant smells around me, my face twisted in disgust. My instinctual aversion only last a second before the reality of my situation settled in and disgust was quickly replaced with horror and confusion. I had no idea where I was or how I'd gotten here. The last thing I remembered was hiding out in a cave with Mauri and the pale blonde woman with the golden eyes that attacked me. I'm pretty sure her name was... Havik?

And then it all came rushing back to me in one horrifying flood. The ambush outside Qaedis' manor. The escape. Havik's appearance. The cave. The second attack by the bandits in the cave. The bandits. The memory of that attack was... hazy—more wild emotion than an actual concrete image. Still, I knew full well what I'd done, even if I couldn't remember all the gory details. The fact that I'd become that thing again—that I'd given in to some horrific murderous hunger I didn't understand not once but twice—made my heart lurch and my stomach turn. What is wrong with me? I knew it had something to do with the Headhunter, but I also felt like there was more to these... episodes.

If anyone had the answers I desperately needed, it was that creature, the owl. Owlowiscious, it called itself. I wanted to know more, but that creature hadn't shown itself since I first woke up back in the manor. I idly wondered if he would answer if I called out to him, but the idea of meeting that alien presence again made me shiver so I just decided to push past the whole thing and focus on how I got here. Like the battle with the bandits in the cave, my escape was also mostly a blur, but the one thing I did remember was Havik's voice. I didn't know how, but she'd been the one to get me out of that mess. Then everything went black and I saw another memory of my past life in Equestria.

Questions upon questions filled my head. Questions about the bandit attack, questions about what I'd seen in the memories of Equestria, the deeper, more existential questions I'd had since I first woke up in that place with no memory at all. There were always questions to ask, but I pushed most of them aside in favor of the here and now. Namely, where was I and how did I get here? Did Havik bring me here, and if so, why? I asked myself these questions, but already my mind was beginning to settle on some very unpleasant implications about Havik and my current predicament. There was something else that wasn't sitting right with me, a strange sense of urgency tugging at the back of my mind—like I was forgetting something extremely important.

"I apologize for the rough treatment, but I need you calm," said the man, his softer tone pulling me out of my thoughts before I could dwell on the nagging feeling. I'd almost forgotten he was there despite the hand still clamped over my mouth. Seeing me focused on him once again, the man continued, "Right now it's just you and me in here, but that could change if we cause a stir, and we don't need that right now, understand?" Another muffle bang resounded from somewhere beyond the prison chamber, this time accompanied by what sounded like a pained, masculine grunt along with more laughter. I jumped at the sound and though I couldn't see his face, I saw the man's outline twitch slightly.

My worried gaze flicked to the iron door at the top of the stone steps, but the man shook me again, bringing me back to attention. "Do you understand?" the man repeated, his every word slow, deliberate, and serious. I nodded quickly, trying to get my heart rate under control. "Good," he continued, "now I'm going to remove my hand and we're going to have a calm and quiet conversation about what's going on, alright?" I nodded again and he removed his hands from both my mouth and shoulder and shifted away and to one side, giving me a better view of his face. In the dim light of the distant torch the man looked haggard. His face was lined with age and stress and his skin pale and splotched with dark stains, likely from his stay in this dark dungeon.

His dark brown hair was shoulder length and unkempt, with a short cropped yet rough and uneven beard to match. His tunic and woolen trousers had also seen better days. Both were heavily stained and torn in various places and his feet were bare and callused. The man looked—and probably was—a veritable mess, but despite his beaten down appearance, the blue eyes that stared back at me were still bright and incredibly sharp. "Who are you?" I asked after a moment. My words were whispered but no less urgent or worried, "And where are we? What happened to me?" Another bang followed by another grunt and more laughter and unintelligible jeers. "And what is that?"

Do I even want to know?

"Alius is the name. Alius Tempus," the man replied with a tired smile. His smile faltered and fell, "and I imagine those are the dulcet tones of corporal punishment being meted out." The man grimaced at my confused expression and nodded to the door at the top of the steps outside the prison cell. "I think we'd best start with the 'where' and go from there. This, my unfortunate friend, is Dealande Fortress, stronghold of the Dealande Bandits. This place specifically is the dungeon below the fortress grounds, and you—" he nodded to me with a sardonic grin, "—are the newest prisoner. Congratulations."

"Wait, prisoner?! I don't—" I looked down at my tightly bound wrists, then took in the rest of my body. Beyond the ropes binding my wrists and the long dried blood sprayed across my traveling tunic, everything seemed to be in order... except... "—my sword! My bag! Where..." I looked around the cell for a second before realizing none of my things would be here if I was truly imprisoned by bandits. The panic from earlier started to make a comeback, but the man—Alius spoke before I could get too worked up.

"Hey, look at me," he hissed, this time slapping both his hands on my shoulders as he spoke. I turned to eye one of the grimy hands on my shoulder on reflex but he shook me yet again, more roughly this time. "Look. At. Me."

I looked at him.

"None of that now, you hear?" he continued, his unwavering gaze and stern, almost fatherly tone pinning me in place, "Panic is the enemy. Panic won't get you your things back, nor will it help you win your freedom. You need to stay calm, you need to stay focused. Don't think about what you don't have, think about what you can do with what you do have." He paused to let his words sink in. The cell fell silent save for the panicked breaths I was trying to get under control. Even then, Alius' eyes never once wavered from mine. His stare was so intense that it made me genuinely uncomfortable.

That discomfort more than anything is what allowed me to finally calm down and eventually I nodded. The man was coming off as a little too passionate to me. It put me off a bit, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't appreciate his words and willingness to keep things on track. "O-Okay, I'm... I'm good now," I finally replied. "You're right, I need to stop and think about the situation with a clear head. I just..." I shook my head as my thoughts wandered back to the events that brought me here—at least what I could remember of those events. "...I didn't expect to find myself here, but looking back, I guess I should've expected this kind of outcome."

I grimaced as a flare of anger laced with a tinge of betrayal flickered in my gut. Once I stopped to think, I had no trouble putting the pieces of what likely happened together. I could blame Havik for my imprisonment—and I did to a certain extent—but honestly, I was more upset at myself for falling victim to my own persistent naivety once again. Of course, given how things had ended, it wasn't exactly like I had any real say in the matter but even so, it still stung. I'd gotten myself into this situation by giving in to that thing and likely put Mauri in danger—

Mauri!

"Hey, did you see anyone else arrive with me?" I asked suddenly, "Another woman maybe? Short, kind of looks a bit like a child, green hair, blue eyes, slightly pointy ears?" Seemingly satisfied that I had myself under control, Alius sat back to give me some much needed space.

He furrowed his brow at my question and scratched at his thick beard thoughtfully. "Can't say that I have, I'm afraid. Though, your description is an interesting one..." He paused a moment and tilted his head, giving me a questioning look, "A friend of yours I assume?"

"I... I guess she is, yeah," I replied, only then realizing how right it felt to say.

Alius nodded as if he'd known all along. "My apologies then. You're the only one they've hauled in since me and I've been here for quite some time... as you can probably tell." He gestured to his ragged attire with a wry smile.

"Ah, well... that's troubling." I tried to humor him with a small smile of my own, but it came out as more of a grimace.

I gave up and dropped my gaze to my bound wrists with a despondent and slightly frustrated sigh. "I can't believe this happened again, and so soon too..."

At least this time I didn't wind up nearly stabbed to death in the woods. That has to count for something, right?

"Again, you say?" Alius asked with some interest, "And I'm sorry, Miss, but I didn't quite catch the name." I blinked and looked back up at the man in surprise. I could've sworn I mentioned it already, but thinking back on it, I never actually gave him a name.

"O-Oh, I guess I didn't mention it, did I?" I began, somewhat embarrassed at the social faux pas, "Sorry, my name... well, I know part of it at least is 'Sparkle' but that's all I can remember right now. I don't know if that's my first or last name though. I've just been assuming it's my last name and Mauri—the green-haired woman I mentioned before—she's been calling me Amethyst."

"Amethyst Sparkle, eh?" Alius looked me over curiously, then smiled, "Ah, for the eyes, no doubt. Quite striking I must say, as is the hair. I've not seen such a... vibrant individual as yourself before—not in Vale at any rate. Are you perchance a foreigner?"

This time it was my turn to smile, though mine was a sardonic thing. "You could say that. I'm certainly new to this place at least," my smile fell, "...and not very wise to the way of things it seems."

At that, Alius gave another knowing nod. "You do have the air of the inexperienced about you, though that idea does clash rather strongly with the blood-drenched tunic."

I looked down at the offending article of clothing and winced. Disjointed memories of what happened in the cave flitted through my mind but I pushed the images down as far as I could before giving a helpless shrug. "I've... seen battle. Doesn't mean I'm an expert or that I know any more about the world." Alius gave a small, wry chuckle at that.

"Ignorant but not innocent," he replied, "a troublesome combination to be sure. If nothing else, I'm certain your latest trial has graced you with a bit more worldliness, eh?"

"I would have rather not experienced that kind of trial at all, thank you very much," I groused. That just made Alius chuckle again.

"Ah, but I find that experience is the best teacher," he countered with a toothy grin. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger and all that, right?"

I'm not sure if it was the smile or his words or maybe a combination of the two, but the man was beginning to irritate me. "Well, the last time I was captured by these bandits I was nearly stabbed to death by a madwoman and now I'm here. In a prison cell. Once again captured by those same bandits." I raised my bound wrists to drive my point home, "I'm sorry, but I don't particularly feel any stronger than I was before."

I made sure to conveniently leave out my wholesale slaughter of the bandits during both my encounters. It didn't change the fact that I was caught off guard and captured both times, anyway.

"A fair point," Alius conceded, wholly unperturbed by the clear annoyance in my tone, "still, you made it out alive, didn't you? That's progress, no matter how you slice it. You just need to be willing to learn from life's trials, and the worse the experience, the better the lesson." He leaned forward and his bright blue eyes flared with interest as he watched me, "I must admit, I am curious as to how you escaped the first time round. I'd also like to know how it is you found your way back into their clutches." He nodded to the rest of me, "Your attire certainly tells a fascinating tale, I'd bet."

I frowned at the man and turned away. "Sorry, but I'd... rather not tell that tale if it's all the same to you." For some reason that made Alius smile again and when he spoke again, his tone was that of some wise elder.

"There, see? You're learning already. Best not to trust without reason or verification, especially in a place like this." Then, to my surprise, his affable expression suddenly turned grim, his cerulean eyes growing cold as ice. "It's good you learn that particular lesson now, Miss Sparkle. You'll likely need it soon."

"Wh-What do you mean?" I asked, completely thrown off by the sudden shift in atmosphere. Instead of responding right away, he eyed me for a another few seconds. Then the grave look vanished as if it had never been and he shrugged, his friendly smile returning once more.

"Just saying to be careful is all. You can't trust a bandit as far as you can throw one, and I've tried." His words were light, but this time I could feel the gravity behind them, and he wasn't wrong. I still trusted Mauri. I trusted that if I couldn't get myself out of this mess, she would come and get me. I had faith in that.

But then there was Havik.

I thought maybe Havik, for all her faults and the fact that she tried to kill me... I thought she might've been... I don't know. Different? Better? Something in my gut back then just told me she wasn't as bad a person as she made herself out to be. In a way, I still want to believe that, but I can't ignore the facts. I can't ignore my current situation or the person that put me in it.

"Well, I don't plan on trusting any more bandits any time soon, so there's no need to worry about that," I replied after a long moment, "If I ever get out of here, I'm keeping my distance altogether." Another question came to mind and returned my full attention back to my cellmate, "Incidentally, did you by chance see where they took my things or if I had them with me when they threw me in here?" The bag and rifle were one thing, but I felt entirely naked and completely vulnerable without my Spellblade. There was a hollowness in my chest, like something had been carved out of me.

Is this why my magic isn't working?

I'd been trying to ignore it, but the absence of my magic was weighing heavily on both my mind and body. Naturally, I had no intention of mentioning what I could do to this man I'd only just met, but I was getting increasingly restless without my sword and by extension, my magic.

Alius, for his part, stood up with a groan and stretched as he replied. "Not that I've seen, no. The only thing they tossed you in this cell with were the clothes on your back, and frankly, I'm surprised they left you with even that." He looked me over again, this time with some bemusement.

"Now I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Miss Sparkle, but objectively speaking, you are what the stuffy nobles in Ruvenbor would call a 'comely dame'." My face went slightly red at the compliment, but Alius didn't seem to notice as he pressed on. "That said, bandits tend to be a rowdy lot and when it comes to women... well..." his face twisted into a disdainful sneer, "they're more likely to let thier groins do the thinking, and they don't give one whit for petty things like consent." My face went pale at that, the red in my cheeks draining away as quickly as it had come.

I was suddenly all too aware of my previous lapse in consciousness and the myriad number of things that could've happened to me in that unknown span of time. I may have been ignorant of how this world worked for the most part, but I wasn't completely blind to the darker temptations of the heart and mind. "They... th-they didn't—" I began, but Alius held up a hand.

"I couldn't say for certain, but I don't think so." His expression was serious but his words were calm. I wasn't fairing nearly as well with this previous unthought of possibility.

"And what makes you so sure?" I hissed, then paused at the thought of another possibility. "And what about you? How do I know you didn't... take advantage of me while I was out? For all I know—"

"For all you know, I could have ravaged you just as those bandits might have done." Alius interjected. His face hadn't changed and neither had his tone. I shuddered, feeling horribly violated, but he paid my discomfort no heed as he kept going, "I might have had my way and dressed you back up so you were none the wiser. That is the problem with this situation. There's no way for you to know and I doubt there's much I could do to convince you that I've done nothing of the sort." He held up his hands in a show of helplessness, "Ultimately, Miss Sparkle, it's up to you whether or not to take me at my word and believe that I've not touched you since you awoke."

A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between us as my mind worked. I wanted to believe Alius, that he didn't do anything. I wanted to believe the bandits didn't do anything but it was like he said, I had no way to know for sure. I didn't feel like anything was amiss or off with my own body other than that empty sensation born from the loss of my sword and magic. And what about Havik? I thought, She's one of them, right? Would they do that to one of their own? In the end, all I could do was try not to think about it. It wasn't something I could do anything about, so I just decided to let it go for the moment—or I did my best anyway.

Unfortunately, that didn't mean Alius was done with the topic. He must've seen the resignation in my eyes because he sighed and continued on with his point. "I may not be able to convince you of my innocence," he began, leaning back against the grimy stone wall opposite of the iron bars that made up the front of the prison cell, "but where the bandits are concerned, I do have reason to believe they left you alone—at least in that regard." He waited for me to reply, but I just gestured for him to continue, suddenly too tired to speak myself. He looked at me for a second, gave a small shrug, and continued. "They didn't have your belongings when they brought you in—Cassius likely confiscated everything you had beforehand."

"Cassius?" I asked. The name sounded vaguely familiar.

"The leader of the Dealande Bandits," Alius explained, "anything useful or valuable obtained during one of their raids goes to him for inspection and he usually keeps whatever catches his fancy. If you had anything worthy of note, he's probably got his grubby hands on it now, sorry to say." He gave me an apologetic smile but all I could was sigh in response.

There was no way he didn't have my Spellblade, which meant I was going to have to confront him sooner or later. I don't know what the near future held, but I wanted my sword back. I needed it. If I had to fight my way through a bunch of bandits to retrieve it...

Well, I guess I'll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it. I just hope Mauri is there to cross it with me...

"So, what does this have to do with... you know," I pressed.

Alius nodded. "Right, well," he cleared his throat, "the two brigands that brought you in didn't have anything in tow but your unconscious body. That said, they were rather chatty." A sly grin crossed his face, "I feigned sleep so I could listen in, and they wound up letting a few interesting tidbits slip about you and your situation." I sat up straight against the wall.

My heart skipped a beat and my waning focus sharpened to a razor edge. "What 'tidbits'?" I asked, trying to hide my nervousness behind severity, "What did they say?" Alius chuckled and raised his hands placatingly.

"Calm down, Miss Sparkle. No need to get worked up," he replied reassuringly, "I only heard two thing of any real interest. The first was regarding their complaints."

I frowned. "Complaints?"

He nodded. "Indeed. It seems they were none too pleased that they couldn't 'get a piece of you', if you catch my meaning. Mentioned something about how the boss decreed you were 'off-limits' for the time being."

I wanted to be relieved at that, but for some reason, that just made me even more anxious. "Why?" I asked, "If that's true, then I'm not going to complain, but did they give a reason?" Alius nodded, his expression turning serious once again.

"That was the second thing," he replied, "one of the grunts figures that Cassius has plans for you. What those plans might be, I can't say, but if I know that bastard, he likely wants something from you." He raised a hand and scratched at his scraggly beard, "If he's keeping you from his boys, then either he wants you for himself, or..." his eyes raked over me and he frowned, "...or he wants to recruit you."

That surprised me and I couldn't help but blurt out, "What, me? Why?"

Alius shrugged. "Can't say for certain, though I have my guesses. You'd probably have a better idea as to why than I do, though."

I... couldn't argue with that. When I stopped to think about it, I knew exactly why he'd want to have someone like me join his little bandit camp. I may been a novice who knew little about the world, but I was strong—unnaturally so. It wasn't hubris, just a simple, objective fact—an entirely inexplicable fact, but a fact nonetheless. I looked down at the ropes keeping my wrists tied and flexed my fingers. Even without my magic, I suspected I was still strong enough to tear apart these thick ropes with little effort. I could probably even pry those iron bars wide open and escape if I wanted to.

But I'm not so sure I could get past that door at the top of the steps though. If there was a padlock of some kind I might be able to destroy it, but I don't see one, and I don't think it'd be a good idea anyway. After all, I'm only one person and there's probably a ton of bandits on the other side of that door...

Given the circumstances, I could see the bandit leader's reasoning. If Havik told this Cassius what I'd done to her group or to the bandits in that cave, then of course he wouldn't want that kind of power to slip through his fingers. It would be a waste to just kill me, especially if he couldn't use my sword himself. I didn't know if that was true, but something told me that was the truth—a feeling of certainty I couldn't quite place. With all this in mind, I wasn't sure if I should be relieved or worried. On one hand, if I played my cards right, I could use this to my advantage. On the other, if I messed this up, I could end up in a truly horrid position. I could end up dead... or worse.

I shuddered and tossed the thought aside before looking back up at Alius, who was watching me curiously. I couldn't help but wonder about the man. He'd clearly been in this place for a long time and yet he somehow managed to remain so... grounded and chipper. There were some aspects of him that grated on my nerves, but on the whole, Alius Tempus seemed a genuinely pleasant sort—pleasant... and suspicious. I couldn't figure him out and I didn't know how much he'd truly grasped about me either. What were his motives in speaking with me? Why was he thrown in here?

"Alius... just who are you?" I finally decided to ask after a bit of deliberation, "Why were you locked down here, and what's your relationship with the bandit leader?"

Alius' eyes seemed to light up at the questions and he smiled. "Ah, finally asking the important questions, I see." He hummed in thought for a second before nodding to himself, "I don't see the harm in sharing a bit of my life story. I've nothing really to hide at this point, anyway. But where to begin..." He slid his back down the wall until he was sitting cross-legged on the stone floor and fully turned to face me. "Well, I suppose the first thing you should know about me is that, like yourself, I am not a native of Vale. You see, my father was a—"

A heavy click broke the surrounding silence and stopped Alius' anecdote cold before it could even begin. The sound was quickly followed by another sharp click and the heavy metal door at the top of the steps suddenly swung open with a deep groan of metal. Alius and I watched as a massive fur and leather-cloaked man with bulging arms and tree-trunk thick legs stepped into the room and down the short flight of stairs. Everything about the man was rugged and looked chiseled from stone. His oily chestnut hair was cut short and I could see his square chin even beneath his bushy beard. His face was heavily scarred and his nose looked like it'd been broken at least a few times.

He carried a gigantic single bladed axe on his back and a comparatively small shortsword and buckler on his hip. The two things that caught my eye the most, however, were the flinty grey eyes that seemed to take in everything at a single glance, and his right hand. He'd pushed open the door with his left hand which looked fine, but his right hand was another story entirely. Each finger on his right hand looked as though it had been smashed flat with a hammer. The injury was recent, the red flesh raw and blood spilling from his limp hand to the stone floor below. Looking at it made my stomach turn slightly, but the large man didn't look bothered by it in the least.

Is that him? Is that... Cassius?

"Well, looks like I was right about corporal punishment." Alius muttered. The closeness of his voice made me jump slightly. At some point he'd moved next to me, but his eyes were fixed on the newcomer as he spoke, "Cassius, that damned fool. He's not going to be of use to anyone like that." He stood up and called out to the man, much to my horror. "Burkin, you old dog, you look a right mess! What, did Cass catch you with your hand in the stash again?" The large man—Burkin, apparently—gave an annoyed grunt as he made his way to the bars of our cell.

"Shut it, Tempus," he growled, his deep, booming voice like gravel against my ears, "you'll get yours, you can bet on that, but I ain't here for you. Not this time." He pulled a set of keys from his leather trousers as he spoke. His words were directed at Alius, but all of his concentration seemed to be on unlocking the cell door.

"Ah, here for your latest prize then." Alius replied with a look of faux disappointment, "A shame, really. I do so enjoy the friendly banter. Tell me, how is Cassius these days? We rarely get to see each other anymore." Burkin just grunted again as he singled out a key from his keyring and put it in the lock on the cell door.

With a single twist and a loud clack the door unlocked and he wrenched it open, the metallic screech of the hinges making me wince. The massive bandit poked his head into the cell and looked around. His piercing gaze roamed the dingy prison until he spotted me still sitting on the floor. His slate grey eyes narrowed and he jerked his chin toward the exit, ignoring Alius entirely. His expression was stony, but there was a strange glint in his eye as he barked out his next words.

"Come on then, girl, up you get. Best not to keep the big man waiting, yeah?"

Episode VII – The Bandits ~ Part II

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I frowned at the massive man standing in the entrance of my prison cell. His face was completely impassive but his body language, with his rigid posture and folded arms, told me he expected no less than absolute obedience on my part. I threw Alius a nervous glance, but the ragged looking man could only sigh and shake his head helplessly. It was clear he was in no position to offer me any assistance and that I was on my own for now.

I looked back at the much larger man—Burkin, his name was. Strangely, as ridiculously burly as the man was, I found myself wary, but not quite afraid of him. The axe on his back and the sword on his hip made me nervous, but if it came down to a fight where weapons weren't involved, I felt like I could've defended myself at least somewhat adequately. Given his injury, I might've even been able to best him and make my escape.

Still, it wouldn't do to underestimate the man just because I knew I was strong, and I didn't feel it was a good idea to try anything right now anyway. Instead, I wordlessly got to my feet and waited for Burkin to escort me out. With a grunt of satisfaction, the bandit stepped back from the cell door and jerked his head toward the dungeon's open doorway at the top of the cobbled steps.

“You first,” he rumbled in his gravelly voice, “I'll be right behind ya.”

I hesitated for only a moment before carefully stepping out of the cell. With one last glance back at Alius, who just gave me a rueful grin, I walked down the small, dark and damp corridor, up the cobbled steps, and out of the dungeon. I could hear the heavy thud of Burkin's fur-lined leather boots as he followed right on my heels like a looming shadow.

Beyond the dungeon's entryway was another, slightly longer corridor built entirely of some kind of glossy dark stone. The walls were lit by small sconces and I could see a thick wooden door leading to another room to the left a short distance away. At the end of the hall was a single opening that led to a spiral staircase. From what I could see, it looked like I was on the lowest level, with the staircase going up to who knew where.

A sudden shove from behind caused me to cry out in surprise and stumble forward a few steps. I caught myself and whipped around to see the stoic brute behind me giving me an impatient look. It wasn't until that moment that I realized I'd stopped walking at some point. Though he didn't say anything, the bandit motioned for me to continue with his unbloodied hand. I grimaced, but silently obliged.

Off to my left, behind the wooden door, I could hear the muffled laughter of maybe two or three other people. The room was evidently insulated enough that I couldn't make out any conversations being had, but it was still loud. I tried to ignore it, but as my prison keeper and I passed the door, I heard the telltale sound of approaching footsteps from within.

Before I could say anything or react, the door suddenly swung open, revealing a heavyset man with a bald pate, a bulbous red nose, and a thick, scraggly black beard. Unlike Burkin, this man was all fat and no muscle, his prodigious bulk blocking the rest of the room from view. The man staggered a few steps out of the doorway before catching himself, and this close, I could smell something bitter on his breath, likely alcohol.

He stood up and blinked a few times before turning to where Burkin and I stood. His beady black eyes roamed over me with a mix of confusion and... something else. Something that made my skin crawl. I saw the confusion clear up slightly when he finally spotted the big bandit behind me. He blinked again and a toothy grin crossed his dirty face.

“Ah, Burkin!” the fat man chortled, his raspy voice cracking out like a whip, “Shame 'bout the hand, but what are ya gonna do, eh? Somebody's gotta take responsibility for that little fiasco back at the manor! No hard feelings, right?”

“It is what it is,” Burkin grunted. His tone was even, but his glare was ice cold as he spoke, “now outta the way, Darrel. Me and Vikky got orders to bring this one to the boss.”

My brows furrowed as something he said caught in my mind.

Vikky? Wait... is he talking about—

“Right, right, Cassius' new toy,” Darrel replied, waving a dismissive hand at Burkin's glare. The rotund bandit made a show of indifference, but he stepped aside nonetheless, “we know the drill, we got our own order to keep our mitts off her.”

Rather than head back into the room, Darrel paused in the doorway. The man looked me over for a moment and let a twisted grin warp his features into something hideous. I shuddered and looked away, trying desperately to clamp down on my disgust and an alarming urge to pulp the man's face.

“A damn shame, that. Damn shame,” Darrel muttered before addressing me directly, “but hey, if Cass ain't to your likin', you could always join us down here, girl. We'll treat ya proper, you have my guarantee.”

Despite what I'd been through and done, I still didn't consider myself a violent person by nature. I didn't actually know that for sure, given my amnesia, but from what I could see in the visions of my past and the whole 'Princess of Friendship' thing, it didn't seem likely. That said, I was finding the idea of a violent breakout just a little more appealing then.

I tried not to look at the man as I slowly unclenched the hands I'd unconsciously tightened into fists. With my jaw set, I ignored Darrel and started moving forward. Burkin didn't hesitate to follow after me, but he spoke to the other bandit once last time as he passed by and his words surprised me.

“Why don't you pull your brain outta your dick and do something productive for once?” Burkin growled before snapping a working finger toward the dungeon we'd just come from, “Alius is in there alone and he's got that look in his eye—the one that means trouble. Get in there and make sure he ain't up to nothing, because if he escapes again, it ain't just gonna be my hand on the crushing block. Next time, it'll be all of our heads. Get me?”

Darrel—who was much smaller despite his roundness—quailed under Burkin's vicious snarl. The man swallowed and gave a shaky nod before hurrying past his fellow bandit toward the dungeon. All the while, a series of mocking jeers and laughter from the room he'd just left followed in his wake. The sound was cut off for the most part as the heavy wooden door swung shut on its own and Burkin clicked his tongue in irritation.

“Alright, girl, get a move on,” he commanded, his gruff tone evening out once more, “we've already wasted enough time.”

And so we made our way to the staircase and headed up without further incident. I was curious about Burkin's order and what he said about Alius, but ultimately decided not to pry. I doubted the bandit would've told me anything anyway. As it was, the thoughts were quickly forced out of my head as we reached the entrance to next floor up. As we stepped out of the cramped stairwell through the open entryway, I froze.

The stairwell led us to another corridor, this one built of a lighter grey stone with what I could only assume were wooden support beams above. This corridor was longer than the ones below and I saw a few doors lining the right side of the wall, but I ignored them. What caught my attention instead was a familiar armored woman near the end of the stone hallway.

The corridor turned right at the end, leading off to what I presumed was another corridor. Leaning against the wall near the turn off, with eyes closed and arms crossed over her armored chest, was none other than Havik herself. The platinum blonde woman somehow managed to give off an air of both boredom and impatience without visibly showing either.

So it was her, I thought with a conflicted frown, honestly, I didn't expect to see her again so soon. Then again, I'm not sure how long it's actually been...

Unprepared for the encounter, I wasn't sure exactly how I felt seeing her. I wanted to be angry, and I was to a certain extent, but something was holding back the full brunt of my ire. I thought I'd accepted the fact that she'd thrown me to the wolves, but looking at her again, I got that same feeling I'd had before. I just couldn't get myself to fully believe she was that heartless despite her attitude and the circumstances.

Havik's head whipped around at the sound of our approach, her piercing golden eyes ignoring Burkin and locking right on to me. The intensity of her stare made me want to look away, but I resisted the urge and held her gaze. I tried not to let my warring emotions show, but Havik's own severe features gave nothing away so I wasn't sure if I succeeded or not.

I was expecting her to say something, but Havik didn't say a word as we got closer. I couldn't quite tell from her facial expression, but I got the sense that she was also struggling with something. It could've been my imagination and I didn't know the woman well enough to tell for sure. Thankfully, Burkin spoke up before things could get too awkward.

“Havik,” the burly bandit began with a curt nod of acknowledgement, “everything ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Havik replied, finally tearing her eyes away from me to give Burkin a nod in return, “all we need to do is bring this bitch to Cassius and he'll give us what we want.”

Burkin scowled at that, looking skeptical and even a bit concerned for some reason. The large man's steel grey eyes flickered to me for a second before settling back on Havik. “You sure about this, Vikky?” he asked, his tone doubtful, “if she tries anything stupid in front of the boss—”

“It'll be fine, Burk. Trust me,” Havik replied, a bit of exasperation leaking into her voice. With a dismissive flick of her blonde locks, the armored woman turned and began heading further down the hall. “I'll make sure things go the way we want myself if I have to, now shut your trap and let's move. We don't have a lot of time here.”

Instead of responding, Burkin just sighed and shoved me forward again. We continued on, taking a right down another corridor and past a large pair of double doors that led outside. The halls were lit with more blazing sconces, but there were also a few small arched windows lining the wall on either side of the large doors we passed by. It was clear that night had fallen while I was incapacitated, as I could barely see a few meters beyond the paneless windows.

What I did see made me frown. I could just make out the sight of a few moving torches in the distance and the dark silhouettes of partially intact and crumbling buildings here and there. There were clearly more bandits patrolling around outside, but what surprised me from what little I was able to glean was just how rundown everything was.

Even in such low visibility, it was obvious to see that this fortress was, in reality, nothing but an old ruin. The bandits probably stumbled upon the likely abandoned garrison somewhere in the woods and chose to take it over. I caught myself wondering just what this fortress was doing in the woods in the first place. I hadn't seen any other ruins or signs of civilization, so what was the fortress trying to protect?

Then again, I was unconscious for most of the trip, so maybe there's more ruins just beyond the fortress?

Another thought crossed my mind as we made our way through more of the fortress' corridors. We'd taken another right and climbed another set of stairs to the next floor up before heading down yet another series of stone hallways. All the while none of us said a word, and in the silence, I began to realize that it was, in fact, too silent. Not only that, but I didn't see any other bandits around.

Stranger still, I'd begun to smell a distressingly familiar scent in the air. It was a smell I was more familiar with than I would've liked—that strong, coppery tang that filled the nostrils and wouldn't leave. It was the smell of blood, and it only got stronger as we got closer to our presumed destination. I swallowed nervously and looked between the two bandits escorting me, but neither showed any signs that they noticed anything out of the ordinary.

Do they know and are just ignoring it, or am I the only that can smell it?

At a glance, I didn't see anything that could be giving off the smell, but we had passed by several closed doors. Perhaps it was coming from one of the rooms behind those doors, or perhaps it was coming from outside beyond the fortress' walls. In any case, neither Havik nor Burkin reacted so I just tried to push down my growing unease and press on.

Still, I couldn't help feeling that there was a connection between the lack of bandits in the halls and the smell. I wasn't sure what it meant, but if there was something going on, then maybe I could use it to my advantage somehow, or that was my hope anyway. Either way, I got the sense that my meeting with the bandit leader would be an eventful one.

Rather than bother with suspicious circumstances beyond my control, I focused on the other sensation growing within me as we walked. The void I'd been trying to ignore inside me was gradually vanishing the closer we got to wherever Cassius was. I wasn't sure what was going on at first, but it didn't take me long to understand that I was starting to feel...whole again. Once I realized that, it was a simple conclusion to make that I was getting closer to my Spellblade.

Once I was in a certain range, I was certain I'd be able to use my magic again. For all I knew, I could probably use it now, but I decided to at least wait until I actually had eyes on the weapon. I didn't know what was going on, and acting rashly could still put me in a bad position—or a worse one than I was already in at any rate. And so I waited. I remained quiet as we passed another corridor and headed up one last spiral staircase.

The higher up we traveled, the worse shape the building seemed to be in. Cracks in the stone here and there became holes that grew more and more pronounced. I could spot various areas where support beams and wooden doors had rotted through. There were some areas where the forest had taken back over, with roots and small spots of mossy foliage seeped into the cracks and holes in the stone walls.

I idly wondered why the lower levels were so much more intact than the halls and rooms above, but figured the bandits must've done some work at some point. By the time we reached the top of the staircase, the stench of blood had largely dissipated and the earthy, loamy scent of the forest had replaced it, the smell much stronger in comparison.

It turned out, we'd been making our way up through a small tower at the edge of one of the fortress' inner walls. The open entrance. When Havik, Burkin, and I stepped out of the stairwell, it was to an open stone walkway lined with standing torches. On the left from where we stood was the outer wall of another building with a single large door leading into another room or corridor. The right afforded me a view of much of the fortress grounds from above—or rather, it would have if it wasn't so dark.

As it was, all I could really make out were the shadows of more ruined structures, a few large trees grown over or through some of the fortress' outer defensive walls, and the lit torches of several patrolling bandits wandering the grounds and buildings in the distance. Since we'd stepped outside, I was finally able to orient myself somewhat.

From what little I could see, the fortress wasn't nearly as big as I thought it'd be—more a fort with a few dilapidated auxiliary structures than an actual fortress, really. It looked like the building we'd been in was connected to the fortress' keep, though the design was strange to me. Looking up, I could see the structure to my immediate left was tall enough to be considered a tower, but the design was more cuboid than cylindrical. In fact, the entire fortress, from the buildings to the walls, was pretty much all angles and no curves.

I hadn't seen the whole building from the outside, but the halls we'd wandered through all had sharp, ninety degree turns and at no point did the corridors curve. The staircases and the smaller tower we'd just left were just as sharply angled. The other strange design choice was the fact that the keep was built into what I presumed was the southernmost wall at the back of the fortress rather than the central courtyard.

That meant that if anyone wanted to attack the fortress from behind, the keep would be right there for the taking. Reflecting on it for a moment, I tried to recall just how I knew about fortress design, but my memory came up blank. The knowledge was just there in my mind. Unable to figure it out, I just assumed I'd read about military strongholds in a book somewhere and left it at that.

More important was the fact that there were no bandits patrolling out here either. I tried peering into the opening of the tower on the opposite side of the walkway, but it was too dark to see inside from where I stood. In all, I was really only able to get a cursory glance of my surroundings before I was once again ushered forward by Burkin. The three of us kept moving across the stony path, but only as far as the large door in the center of the central tower.

Without a word, Havik pushed open the door and motioned us inside. Past the doorway was what might've once been an antechamber or a foyer of some sort. On the right was yet another staircase that spiraled upward through several stories. I couldn't tell exactly how high the staircase went, nor could I determine what was in this current chamber. The biggest reason was something above—a large chunk of a wall maybe—having collapsed and burying most of the floor under a massive pile of stone and wood debris.

I could just make out a doorway across the room, but there was no going that way. The entrance was blocked by rubble and—to my surprise and bemusement—a massive knot of tree roots, making it completely impassable. The only thing even remotely intact was the staircase, and even that was riddled with large chips and cracks and overgrown with more roots and weeds. Further up I could also make out a few missing steps here and there. All in all, Everything about this area looked very... unsafe.

How do these people manage to live like this...? The fortress is literally a crumbling ruin isolated in the middle of some no name forest... Then again, Qaedis seems to manage just fine.

...Actually, now that I think about it, his living situation makes even less sense.

The thought was an idle one, one that was quickly replaced by worry for my own safety as we climbed the decrepit steps. There was no hand rail or anything to stop us from falling over the side to the ground below. Despite that, both Havik and Burkin pressed on like a single misstep wouldn't send them tumbling to their deaths. I supposed they were used to the climb by now, but I held no such familiarity and pressed myself closer to the wall as we climbed.

I saw evidence of more floors as we went up, but whatever rooms or facilities they held had all come tumbling down at some point. The main tower, which is what this was no doubt supposed to be, was the most ruined part of the fortress I'd seen so far. Strangely, I could occasionally see more tree roots poking in and out of cracks and holes in the floors and walls. And just like below, the higher we went, the more nature had wormed its way into the tower.

Weird... shouldn't it be the other way around?

Another thing I couldn't make sense of was why the leader of the bandits would hole up here of all places. The place was isolated, a pain to navigate, and was falling apart. The rooms I'd seen below weren't much better, granted—most being completely caved in. That said, there had to be a better option somewhere in this dilapidated pile of stone and wood in the forest. Was it an ego thing? Did this Cassius just want literally the highest seat in his own little kingdom?

I've never met the man, but somehow that wouldn't surprise me...

All I could do was mentally shake my head at the arrangement and keep moving upward. Eventually, we reached the top of the stairs and I discovered why the lower levels were piled high with rubble and infested with tree roots. Looking up, I saw that more than half of the ceiling was gone, along with a good portion of one wall. In their place, it looked like a gargantuan tree had smashed into the top of the tower, destroying half the room in the process.

Or maybe it would've been more accurate to say the tree had grown up through a part of the tower with how the roots were intertwined with the stone. A little further up from where the top of the tower would have been, I could hear the soft rustling of leaves that were probably half the size of my forearm. Squinting, I tried to get a grasp of just how big this tree was, but couldn't make out full details in the dark.

I could see that the leaves above the branches were far larger than they had any right to be. The tree's monstrous crown blotted out most of my view of the night sky, but I could just about make out the pale light of the moon peeking through the rustling leaves. In all honesty, the sight would have been rather beautiful if not for my circumstances. Even then, I had a hard time tearing my eyes away from the sight.

It wasn't much longer until we reached the top of the tower—or rather, as high as we could feasibly go within the tower. With the tree in the way, there was no further path up to the roof anymore. Some of the rubble had cut off the rest of the way up, but it was mostly the ridiculously sized branches of this massive tree that cut us off. Miraculously, both the tree and the falling rubble had missed most of the staircase so we were able to get this far, and apparently that was good enough.

The floor we'd reached was also in bad shape, but there was enough of it left to move across safely. On one side of the room, opposite the staircase, was a set of wooden double doors. The doors had been ornate in their design once upon a time, but had long since been worn and rotted with age. Standing on either side of that door were two bandits—the first I'd seen since Darrel and the other two accompanying me.

The two bandits were clearly guarding the entrance, and they couldn't be more different from one another if they tried. The one on the left was a big man with short cropped dirty blond hair and a mean scar across the whole left side of his face. He wasn't nearly as big or brawny as Burkin, but he definitely had muscle to spare. He stood ramrod straight, his arms folded and amber eyes taking us in with cold indifference as we approached.

The bandit on the right, in comparison, was incredibly lanky with a long face to match. His black hair spilled across his shoulders in an oily cascade and his cobalt blue eyes had a noticeable upward slant to them. At a glance, the man gave off a... slippery air—like a snake or an eel. In contrast to the vigilance of his fellow guard, this bandit was content to lean his back against the wall and pick at his fingernails with a dirty, chipped dagger.

The man obviously had no interest in his role as a guard, or that's what it looked like anyway. His eyes flicked toward us and I saw them narrow slightly but the look was gone in a flash. His focus was back on his fingernails before I could register what I'd seen. Both guards wore the same type of armor I'd seen from the other bandits so far, all furs and leathers. A short sword hung from each of their hips, but that was about it if you didn't count the slippery man's dagger.

While the giant tree's branches took up most of the room, a lot of the middle section was impassable because of the caved in floor. A yawning gap had opened up beneath the branches, and if you were careless or incredibly unlucky, it was a long way back down to the bottom of the tower. There was a path, but we had to go around and practically hug the non-destroyed wall to avoid falling into the pit below.

Crossing the narrow pathway was a harrowing experience, mostly because I couldn't help looking down. Thankfully though, we all got across without incident, even Burkin for as big a man as he was. If anything, he seemed to have the least trouble despite being almost as wide as the path itself.

Once we were all across, Havik called out to the pair of bandits. “Brio, Kao,” a wicked smirk crossing her face as she nodded to the duo, ”got a present for Cass. Told us he wanted this one, ASAP. He's in, right?”

“Oh, he's in alright,” the thin man on the right snorted before jerking his chin toward me, “the dragon hasn't left his lair since you brought her in the first time. Too busy slobbering over the new shiny trinket in his hoard, no doubt.”

“Can't really blame the man this time,” the well-built man on the left replied with a slight shrug. His accent reminded me somewhat of the burly warrior woman I'd killed back when Havik first captured me. “If that thing is real, I'd be slobbering over it too. Likely it's not, but even then, it'll still fetch a good price in Ruvenbor.”

“An understatement if I've ever heard one!” the thin man cackled before addressing Havik, “but yeah, you three can go on in. He's waiting in there for you right now.”

I grimaced, but didn't say anything. It was obvious what they were talking about. I don't think I ever had any attachment to swords or weapons of any type in my previous life, but this? This was different. This sword felt like a part of me—was a part of me. It was familiar. It was comforting. It was my cornerstone, my waypoint, my soul.

It was magic... and it was mine.

And I'll pry it from his cold dead hands if I have to.

I blinked at the thought, then blinked again, then frowned as I realized I meant every word. This wasn't some lingering influence from the Headhunter. There was no rising bloodlust or disgusting glee at the thought of committing gruesome violence—not this time. No, this was anger and grim purpose... and it was all me. It didn't sound like me. I felt like it should go against everything I stood for, yet there it was.

I was fully ready and willing to kill this man to get my Spellblade back.

The realization should've made my stomach turn, but it didn't. It didn't, and I didn't know why, and that scared me more than anything. Perhaps the blade really was just that important to me, or perhaps there was something else at work. Or maybe this world was just finally getting to me. I didn't know for sure, but in any case, something had changed. Unfortunately, my thoughts were interrupted as I was shoved forward yet again.

“Fucking get your damn head out of the clouds and get moving,” Havik growled in my ear as the muscular guard stepped in front of the double doors, “and don't fuck this up for me, got it?”

Havik didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she just shoved me ahead of her and Burkin as the blond bandit—either Brio or Kao—pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

“Got Havik and Burkin here to see you with the goods, boss,” I heard him say to the man in the room.

“Burkin's here too?” came a surprisingly androgynous reply from within, “ah, doesn't matter. Let them all in.”

With that, the blond man stepped aside and gestured for us to enter. I did so, going in first with Havik and Burkin following close behind. I couldn't help raising my eyebrows in shock at the sight of the room. Everything I'd seen up until this point was either breaking down due to age or had been overrun by nature, but this room was a world apart. Everything in here was immaculate.

It wasn't a very large room all things considered and the walls were still the same dark stone, but the room was stuffed with... well... stuff. The walls were stacked end to end with shelves and displays and armoires of all kinds. Each of those shelves and displays were packed with all kinds of shiny treasures and strange baubles I couldn't make heads or tails of. An entire set of armor sat in one corner and several different bladed weapons hung on the walls above the shelves.

On one wall hung a large map whose landmarks I couldn't discern from where I stood. In the center of the room near the back sat a lone desk that somehow brought the whole room together. In the wall behind the desk I could see a thick metal door with a heavy padlock and a little barred window. On the desk itself, front and center, was a very familiar sword hidden within a very familiar scabbard.

And seated behind that desk was the man I presumed to be none other than Cassius.

Cassius... did not look the way I expected him to. I couldn't get a full measure of him since he was sitting behind the desk, but I was baffled by what I could see. Unlike the other bandits with their furs and leathers, Cassius wore an exotic looking, formfitting robe made of some type of dark brown material I couldn't identify at a glance. He looked kind of thin, but not like the slippery looking bandit outside.

I couldn't tell for sure, but he didn't look particularly tall either. I couldn't guess at his build due to the robe, but his face was another story. The man couldn't be called anything other than beautiful. His was a feminine beauty but it did nothing to distract from his more masculine features. He had high cheekbones, soft lips, and skin so pale it was almost white. He was like a porcelain doll, right down to the pitch black eyes.

His silky black hair that fell across and well past his shoulders in a solid sheet as he hunched over his desk. All in all, I found Cassius' appearance to be rather eerie. Maybe it was his porcelain-like skin, but it was probably due more to his eyes. They were slightly narrowed like the thin guard outside, but had a hauntingly empty quality to them. They were like bottomless black pools of nothingness, empty yet dangerous.

The bandit leader hadn't once looked up from his desk, even as his burly blond underling stepped back out of the room and closed the doors. All of his attention seemed to be focused on the sword and scabbard before him. It took Havik loudly clearing her throat twice to finally grab the man's full attention. He blinked once before raising his head to look directly at me. I shuddered at the sheer intensity in his gaze, repulsed on some deep, fundamental level.

His expression was blank and for an uncomfortably long amount of time, he didn't say anything. No one did. Then, after what felt like an age, he smiled. It was a pleasant smile that didn't even come close to reaching his creepy black eyes. When he finally spoke, his tone was just as pleasant, and just as fake.

“Ah, I'm so glad to see you up and about at last,” he began in a calm, almost breathy voice. Slowly, deliberately, he folded his hands over the desk and leaned forward, his smile growing a touch wider, “Havik has told me much about you, Miss Sparkle. If you'll excuse me for being a bit forward, I'd like to propose a deal to you... an offer that would benefit both of us greatly.”

Episode VII – The Bandits ~ Part III

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Cassius wasn't anything like I expected—far from it. Based on what I'd heard about the man, I pictured someone more rugged, swarthy, arrogant, slimy. A greedy, muscle-bound creep with total confidence in his own strength, superiority, and charisma. In short, someone fit to be the leader of a large, if crude and ragged looking, group of bandits. What I got... was not this. At least, not at a glance.

No, this effeminate man with his doll-like features wasn't at all what I expected. Frankly, he looked and felt completely out of place in these ruins with these other bandits. If I was being honest, I would've said the same about Havik if not for her standoffish attitude and verbally explicit propensities. I wasn't sure if it was her looks or the way she carried herself, but something about Havik felt... noble almost—like a highborn raised in the wilds or something.

Havik's beauty and posture set her apart from the other bandits in a way I could probably understand with a bit of time to think on the matter, but Cassius? Cassius was an anomaly all his own. Everything about the man set me on edge. His black eyes especially made my skin crawl. He was utterly repulsive, but not in the same way as Darrel. No, looking into his eyes was almost like...

Almost like looking at Jessie...

No... like looking at the thing that was wearing her skin.

I couldn't help a small shudder at the thought and tore my own eyes away from his. Instead, I turned my attention to the Spellblade sitting in its sheath on his desk, and that's when I noticed something that made my heart skip a beat. There, on one of the many thick metal bolts embedded within the sword's guard, I saw yet another one of those strange runes lit up with a soft glow. That made two in total, which meant... what?

I'd already surmised the first rune gave me access to my telekinesis, and that if there was one rune there'd likely be more, but why now? What does it mean, and what does this rune do?

I didn't feel any different from before. There was no new knowledge or instincts that came to mind. Maybe I had to actually hold the sword? My bound hands twitched, and I could feel the magic in my body rising within me, eager to be let loose, but I held it back. I didn't want things to devolve into chaos just yet. I still had a ton of questions and from the sound of it, Cassius was willing to talk, though talking to him was the last thing I wanted to do.

In fact, something inside me was screaming at me to take back my Spellblade and plunge it into his chest, but I did my best to ignore the intrusive thought. I wasn't so bloodthirsty or stupid that I'd risk an attack without knowing what I was up against or what kind of situation I was in. So, with one last look at the sheathed sword on the desk—my sword—I forced myself to meet Cassius' expectant gaze once again and spoke.

"What kind of deal would you want with me?" I asked, trying my hardest to hide my unease, "you already have everything I own."

I had a few ideas about what he might want out of this supposed deal, but I figured it might be best to play ignorant. Cassius' expression gave no indication whether I'd made the right move or not, and his pasted on smile didn't change as he replied.

"Really? I'm not so sure about that myself," he said before waving a dismissive hand, "but that is a discussion for later. More to the point, if the reports are to be believed, you, Miss Sparkle, are a powerful woman."

With feline grace, the bandit leader pushed back his chair and stood up, though he remained behind his desk. The man was tall and thin—slender beneath his exotic brown robes, but not overly so. His pitch-black hair reached all the way down to his waist, and the look only exacerbated his uncanny beauty. He set both his hands down on the desk, his fingers splayed out and his dark eyes lowering to the blade in front of him.

His calm smile twisted strangely, and I suddenly found I couldn't quite read his expression or his tone as he continued. "Several brigands slaughtered, including Haelda and Golimer, recovery from wounds that should have been immediately fatal, and most fascinating of all, reports of... unnatural capabilities."

Slowly, he reached out a hand to touch the Spellblade's scabbard, but seemed to think better of it at the last second. He pulled his hand away, then placed both hands behind him as he straightened up and looked at me. "Honestly, I was hesitant to believe any of it, but then my dear Havik brought you to me herself."

At that, I cast a glance back at the woman in question. Though her expression was studiously blank, I could see her jaw clench with some kind of suppressed emotion. Likely anger or something close to it, knowing the woman. Burkin, for his part, glanced at his fellow bandit, his brow furrowed slightly in concern. Before I could glean any meaning from the look, my attention was pulled back to Cassius as he continued.

"Yes, she brought you here, and though you may not look it, there is a certain air of strength about you, but it was this—" he gestured to the sword with a sweep of his hand "—that convinced me that you were something truly special. I believe we both know what this is and what it means, Miss Sparkle." He flicked his eyes from me to the blade, "If this is the genuine article—and I'm quite certain that it is—then the reports are not only valid, but make much more sense. An unknown Spellblade wielder traipsing about in some backwater woodland is quite the curious thing," he returned his gaze to me, "care to tell me how you came to be here?"

Taking a chance, I chose to ignore his question and redirect, "I could say the same thing about you," I replied, "looking at you, you don't strike me as the type to lead a bunch of bandits out here in the middle of nowhere."

I wanted to ask about Mauri and almost did, but decided against it. He hadn't brought her up at all, and if the woman was true to her word, she might have been trying to get me out of here. Cassius probably already knew about Mauri, but I didn't want to mention her name just in case, so instead, I chose to get more information about the eerie man himself. For a moment, he didn't answer, and I wondered if I'd crossed some kind of line, but then he chuckled and shook his head.

"I suppose I don't quite fit the bandit archetype, do I?" he replied with a small shrug. If he'd noticed or was annoyed by me dodging his question, he didn't show it, "You may be right at that, but I do have my reasons, rest assured. But that story is incredibly dull in comparison to the revelation that is your very existence, and now that I've confirmed the claims with my own eyes, I'd like to proposition you for a job that I'm beginning to think only someone like you can handle."

"Are you... implying that you're going to give me back my sword?" I asked, unable to quell the rising hope in my chest.

"If you agree to the proposal, then yes," he answered without hesitation, "you'll need it if you're to complete the task I require of you."

That doesn't sound good...

I swallowed nervously before asking, "And... what task might that be?" I tried to sound more confident than I was, but judging by the amused look Cassius gave me, I doubted I was successful.

"The task should be a simple one for a Spellblade wielder such as yourself," he replied, "you simply need to do what Havik and Burkin failed to do. Bring me Qaedis' head and the location of his vault with it."

I should've seen that coming, but I didn't. The request completely threw me off, and my response was anything but elegant. "I... wh-what?! You're really asking me to—"

"Kill Qaedis the Seeker? Yes," Cassius cut in with that same plastered on smile, "a tall order to be sure, but necessary, you see. That man has something in his possession that I desperately require, and if even half the stories of what you Spellblade users can do are true, then I have no doubt you can get me what I need."

"A-And what's in it for me if I agree to do this?" I asked, trying to stall for time while I gathered my thoughts, "Qaedis already offered me a reward just for finding your base."

I winced as the words slipped out, but figured it couldn't hurt anything at this point. Cassius probably thought he already held all the cards. He might've known about the Spellblade and that I could use it to cast magic, but the fact that he still allowed me to get this close to the sword meant he either didn't have as much information about what I could do as he thought, or he knew and was confident he could handle himself should I suddenly attack or try to take back my weapon.

I really hope it's the former, but even if it's the latter, I wonder...

"Ah, I suppose that answers the question of why you were wandering the woods," Cassius said with an understanding nod, "but even so, I'm confident I can give you more than whatever Qaedis is willing to offer, whatever it might've been." His smile widened a touch, "Once you've taken care of Qaedis, you may have your pick of whatever is contained within his vault. I feel that is more than fair compensation, don't you?"

No, I don't!

I wanted to scream the words out loud, and I almost did, but I didn't get the chance. Before I could respond, I was shoved aside by Havik who stepped in front of me and jabbed a finger in Cassius' direction.

"That's all well and good," she nearly growled, "but what about my reward, huh? I brought the bitch back to you alive, just like you wanted. Now I want what's mine, and then I want out."

Cassius wasn't fazed by Havik's interruption in the slightest. His reply was calm, his false smile didn't change, and he never took his eyes off me as he answered, "If Miss Sparkle agrees to assist me, then you shall have your freedom, Miss Kultaina, just as I promised."

Wait... freedom?

"Bullshit!" Havik snarled, slamming a gauntleted hand down on the desk, "that wasn't the deal, Cassius! All you asked me to do was bring her back here, and I did. You didn't say shit about her agreeing to anything!"

"Vikky—" Burkin began in a warning tone, but he was cut off as Havik continued.

"No, Burk, this is bullshit," the blonde bandit pressed, "I did my part, and he's been dangling this over my head for way too Goddesses damn long. I'm sick of it!" she placed both hands on the desk and leaned toward Cassius, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she hissed, "give me back what I'm owed, Cassius. No more bullshit. No more excuses. I've done my part. I. Want. Out."

For a long moment, no one else spoke. I wanted to use the opportunity to sort out the implications of what I'd heard, but the tension in the air was too stifling. I turned to see that Burkin's expression had grown stony, his unmangled hand unconsciously gripping the shortsword at his hip. Havik just glared expectantly at Cassius, but Cassius... still only had eyes for me. Not once had he turned to face Havik, nor did his porcelain features give anything away.

"Well, Miss Sparkle?" Cassius finally spoke in his same calm tone, "We're all waiting on your answer. Will you assist me in my endeavor and win my precious Havik her freedom from this life of brigandry?"

"Havik?" I asked, turning to the other woman and ignoring Cassius entirely, "what is he talking about? The way you two are talking... are you... do you have some kind of debt or something?"

I'd known there was something strange about Havik's behavior and her role as a bandit. This was my chance to learn more about her and her situation, and I wouldn't waste it. Havik grit her teeth, and for a second, I thought she wouldn't answer, but after a moment she spat to one side, which finally earned her a disapproving scowl from Cassius, then spoke without taking her eyes off the bandit leader.

"Nothing too complicated, really," Havik replied in an almost casual tone that didn't match the fury in her golden eyes, "this piece of shit and a ton of his goons ambushed me on my way home a couple of years back. He stole my birthright and forced me to work for him in return for what he took. I can't return home without it, and I've been under his Goddesses damned thumb ever since. Simple as that."

And she brought me back here after he promised to return whatever this "birthright" is and set her free. Now it's all starting to make sense. When put into perspective, she was likely just trying to incapacitate me during her second attack, but Mauri never gave her the chance.

This doesn't explain everything about her weird behavior, but I can put a few pieces of the puzzle together now.

"But now, this motherfucker wants to back out of the deal. Again," Havik spat, "and I won't have it, not this time. Give me back my targe, Cassius, or I'll take it back myself."

"Oh?" Cassius replied, finally turning to give Havik his full attention. He raised his brows in a mix of surprise and amusement, "And how do you expect to do that, Miss Kultaina? We've already established that you are far from my equal in combat, and I doubt you've improved much since then." He held his hands out to either side in an inviting gesture and grinned at the incensed bandit, "Are you willing to fight me for your chance to reclaim your birthright? Knowing that you may lose more than just the shield?"

As the words left his mouth, I felt a strange pressure. I couldn't place it or what it meant, but the air grew oddly heavy at that moment, and a small shiver ran down my spine. Through the fear and confusion, I realized that the pressure felt strangely familiar. It took me a second, but as I looked into Cassius' eyes, I remembered.

This... th-this is the same feeling I got from the Headhunter!

Alarm and horror made me take a step back, but that was all I was able to do. My body wouldn't move beyond that. I was frozen in place, my body trembling as memories of that night flashed through my mind. All that blood. Jack's headless corpse sprawled out on the table. That thing hanging above me with its giant mouth full of all those teeth—

A massive hand slapped itself atop one of my shoulders and I jumped, a small yelp tearing from my throat. I whipped around to see the giant form of Burkin looming behind me, his steely eyes boring into mine with an odd intensity.

"Focus, girl," he hissed so quietly only I could hear, "we'll need you for what comes next."

"Wh-wha—"

"Yeah, I can't beat you in a straight-up confrontation, not with what I have right now," Havik conceded before giving Cassius a nasty smirk, "but what if I had something that could even the odds?"

Cassius' arrogant grin fell into a bemused frown, but he didn't have time to respond before Havik moved. Several things happened at once then. In a movement so quick I barely caught it, Havik snapped out her arm to grab at my Spellblade. Almost at the same moment, in a move that really was too quick for me to process, Cassius made his own move. In the blink of an eye, the man was over the desk and rushing toward Havik. In the next second, he had the woman by the throat, pressing her struggling form into the wall next to the entrance.

Before I could process what had just happened, Burkin shot past me to make his own grab for the sheathed blade with his good hand. Far faster than his large frame would suggest, he snatched the sword up, succeeding where Havik failed. Without a moment's pause, he turned and shoved the sword, scabbard and all into my chest, nearly knocking the wind out of me in the process.

"Take it and fight, girl," Burkin growled, "or none of us are making it out of this room alive."

Out of reflex, I grabbed hold of the Spellblade, and the moment I did, my fear and bewilderment were briefly replaced with the instinctual understanding I'd been missing regarding the new rune embedded into my sword. A brief bout of vertigo made me stumble a bit, but I recovered quickly and glanced around to see that Burkin was already rushing to Havik's aid, his shortsword drawn and a war cry escaping his lips.

I watched in amazement as the massive bandit raised his blade and swung down at Cassius, then in horror as the bandit leader raised his free arm and batted the incoming blade away with contemptuous ease. I wasn't quite sure how to explain it, but the movement didn't look natural. It was quick and jerky and the arm didn't twist right, but I was distracted from that fact by the look Cassius shot me as he deflected Burkin's attack. There was fury in those soulless black eyes, but also something else.

Is that... fear?

The look was gone as fast as it had come, so I couldn't tell for sure what I saw, and both he and I were further distracted by Burkin's continued assault. The man wasn't deterred in the slightest by Cassius' ridiculous strength. He simply continued to rain down blow after blow like a machine, all of which Cassius blocked or parried with seemingly no effort. All the while, he continued to hold Havik against the wall with only one hand—that is, until the woman pulled her own sword free from its scabbard.

Using what little leverage she could, Havik stabbed out at Cassius, aiming for his unprotected throat. In yet another unnatural looking movement, the man let Havik go and slid to one side, as if pulled by some invisible string. He avoided not only Havik's savage lunge, but a particularly vicious swipe from Burkin's blade.

The two bandits were on their leader before he could retaliate. I'd already seen Havik fight and knew she was a talented swordswoman, if not as good as Mauri, but Burkin was no slouch either, even crippled as he was. Together, they were able to keep Cassius on the defensive, but looking at him, the man didn't seem all that hard-pressed.

His every move was strange and eerie, with his limbs and body twisting at odd angles to block or avoid blows that should have struck home. What's more, he was fending off attacks from bladed weapons with nothing more than his bare flesh. I was unnaturally strong, sure, but even I couldn't do something like that.

Just what is he that he can do something like that?

The frown on his face looked less like he was concerned about his chances and more like he was annoyed at the whole situation. That was when I realized things might not have been going as well as they seemed. This feeling was only cemented into certainty when Havik took the time to call out to me.

"Any time you feel like pitching in with that magic of yours, feel free!" she snarled, "This shit ain't as easy as it looks, so if you're gonna help, then get your thumb out of your ass and fucking do something!"

And just like that, Burkin's earlier words came to mind and the realization of what was going on hit me like a sledgehammer.

We'll need you for what comes next.

They'd planned this all along. My capture, the lack of patrolling bandits in the building, Burkin's concerns, Havik's demands of Cassius, and the return of my Spellblade. Havik had probably used herself as a distraction so that Burkin could grab my sword, and now they were waiting on me to help them kill Cassius. It had all been for this moment. It was all so roundabout, but this had likely been Havik's plan from the very beginning.

She needed my help. She still needs my help! And I actually might be able to do something...

The revelation of Havik's circumstances and the fact that she brought me here to help her get out of her predicament was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. Given her actions and the way she spoke, Havik wasn't exactly a saint. She'd used me for her own ends, but it was for a reason I could wholly sympathize with. The woman was desperate, and even if I didn't agree with what she'd done, there was no way I could stand by knowing what I knew now.

And beyond that, I also feel like I can't leave Cassius alone. Something in me is telling me to end his life, and I'm starting to think I might have to. There's something wrong with him. I don't know what, but he's just like Jessie somehow. I can feel it.

The man scared me on a primal level, and that, more than anything, is what spurred me into action. Trying to think on my feet, I reached once again for the magic within me and this time, I let it out. Heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination, I raised one hand shrouded in magenta light and pointed it toward Cassius.

The moment he noticed what I was doing, he disengaged his attackers. He used his unnerving movements to weave right past the other two bandits and rushed straight for me, an ugly snarl marring his too-perfect face. In a panic, I latched onto the man with my telekinesis and ripped my hand to one side as if tossing him aside. At my startled command, the bandit leader was lifted from the ground and violently flung into and right through the double doors.

The doors were apparently more flimsy than they appeared because they snapped right off their hinges and were sent flying outward right alongside Cassius. For a brief few seconds, I stood there, stunned at what I'd done, but the shock didn't end there. Through the now very open doorway, I watched as Cassius hit the opposite wall with an audible crack and slump to the ground, before his limp body slipped right down into the pit in the center of the room just outside.

That wasn't what surprised me, though. The real shock was the ragged sight of Alius Tempus who'd been making his way up the dilapidated steps when the bandit leader came shooting out of his chamber. And if that weren't surprising enough, Mauri was there too, already on the floor and engaged in a battle with the two bandits who'd been guarding the doorway.

Well, that explains why no one rushed in to see what was going on...

I wasn't the only one frozen in bewilderment at the situation. It seemed everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch Cassius as he fell who knew how many stories to the ground below. Once his body was out of sight, all eyes turned toward the open doorway and, more specifically, to me. The two guards were badly injured, with the larger blond man pressing one hand to a deep cut just below his ribs and the snake-like man on his knees and sporting several lacerations in different places.

Even with all their wounds, they still took a moment to look me over with surprise and even a bit of fear.

"U-um," I began, entirely unsure of how to proceed. I shook my head, trying to focus on what mattered at that moment, and ran through the doorway and past the two injured guards who did nothing to stop me, "Mauri! Are you okay? What happened? How did you get here and what is he doing here?"

The questions came one after the other, but once I started, I couldn't stop. At the last question, I glanced over to where my fellow prisoner still stood, but Mauri cut my inquiries short with a hand on my shoulder and an exasperated chuckle.

"Believe me, Amethyst," she said with a not unkind grin, "I have all those questions and more to ask you, but maybe now is not the best time?" she nodded toward the giant pit, "Who was that?"

A sudden gurgling cry caught our attention, and we both turned to see Mauri standing over the thin guard, her gleaming blade pierced through his chest from behind. While the bigger guard was distracted by the sudden ambush, Burkin approached him from behind. He didn't even bother with his sword. He simply wrapped one massive arm around the man's neck and the other around the back of his head in a stranglehold.

With barely any effort and an expression carved from stone, he pressed his good hand into the back of the guard's head until there was a muffled snap. The struggling bandit went limp immediately, and Burkin let his body drop to the ground. The thin guard, who'd been stabbed through the heart, was also sprawled out on the ground and very much out of commission. With the death of the two guards, Mauri grunted, flicked her blade to one side, and slipped it back into its sheath at her hip.

"Well, I suppose we all have a lot to explain, it seems," she commented with a rueful smirk. She looked over to Havik with a questioning raise of her brow, "Care to fill me in on what that was all about?"

"Later," Havik replied, her grim gaze never leaving the pit as she moved closer to the ledge and peered down with a scowl, "to answer your earlier question, that was our great leader, Cassius, and I can guarantee that little magic trick wasn't enough to kill the man." She raised her head to look at me, then to Mauri, "He's still down there, and when he wakes up, he's gonna be pissed."

"Oh, of that, I have no doubt," came Alius' inappropriately chipper voice from the staircase. All eyes turned to him as he made his way up the rest of the stairs and toward Cassius' room, "And with that in mind, I'd like to retrieve a few things before the inevitable storm arrives, so if you'll excuse me..."

With that, he stepped into the recently vacated room and began searching the various shelves, weapons, and armor. Leaving him to whatever he was doing, I returned my attention to Mauri.

"Mauri," I began, "back there in the cave, what happened?"

Mauri frowned, then shared a look with Havik before turning back to me and replying with a grim expression that matched Havik's own, "Havik is right. If their leader really is still alive, then it is best that we focus on finishing him off first. Story time can wait until after all is said and done, and we are safely out of this mess."

I wanted to argue, but I knew they were right. My answers would come, but now wasn't the time to press for details. I could feel in my gut that Cassius was a threat that couldn't be ignored. And so, I clamped down hard on fears and worries and resolved to finish what we started. Not only did I get my Spellblade back, but I now had a new spell at my disposal, and I was itching to use it.

Episode VII – The Bandits ~ Part IV

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Havik continued to look down into the pit where Cassius had fallen for another moment, then sneered and spat over the edge before muttering, “Creepy fuck...”

With that, she stood up from where she was kneeling next to the edge and, to my surprise, made her way back toward Cassius' room. I thought for sure she'd marched right down the stairs to finish what she started, and I was ready to follow after her, but instead, Havik stepped back into the room and joined Alius in rummaging through Cassius' personal—or perhaps stolen—effects.

I opened my mouth, ready to ask what she was doing, but then stopped. Her words to Cassius came back to me, and I realized she was likely looking for the “birthright” they'd both mentioned. Unsure of how to proceed now, I turned to Mauri. Reading the uncertainty in my gaze, Mauri scratched at her cheek and looked toward the pit briefly before giving a careless shrug.

“Might as well do some looting while we have the chance. Only fair, right?” she said as she gestured for me to follow Havik, “go on, I will stay out here and keep an eye on things.” She gave Burkin, whose calm gaze had never left the pit, a winning smile, “What say you, big man? Help me keep a lookout for your boss and the rest of his lackeys?”

Burkin just grunted in response, never moving and never taking his grey eyes away from the pit. Apparently, that was good enough for Mauri, who nodded in satisfaction and gave me that same smile. “And there you have it,” she said, “we will keep watch out here.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, giving my own worried glance toward the pit, “I mean, weren't you and Havik just talking about how we didn't have time to waste?”

“That we did, but it is clear this Alius Tempus and the blonde barbarian need some time to prepare, and preparation is important,” Mauri replied with another shrug. She tilted her head and looked me up and down before adding, “I am fine with gathering what I need once we have more time, but are you not in need of the other supplies that were taken from you?”

My eyes widened as I realized she was right. In the madness of recent events, I'd completely forgotten about my bag and the rifle I'd taken from Jack's cabin. I still hadn't had the chance to actually make use of the latter, but even so, I didn't want to leave it in the hands of Cassius and his band of brigands. At this point, I saw the firearm as more of a keepsake than anything else.

Something to remember him by...

“You're right,” I conceded. I gave the pit one last hesitant look, then turned back to Mauri with a small nod, “I'd like to say I can do without, but... there are some things I don't want to leave behind.”

There's also the books Qaedis gave me. Above all else, I don't want to lose that journal...

“Then you had best hurry and find them, my little Amethyst,” Mauri chuckled. Her expression turned serious as she continued, “I was careful to cover my tracks as I made my way through these ruins, but someone is bound to come sniffing about sooner or later.”

“Right,” I agreed with a grim nod, “just... give me a minute.”

With that, I turned and headed back into what was more or less a treasury, carefully stepping over the body of the snake-like bandit as I went. All the death didn't bother me nearly as much as I felt it should, but the sight of the bloodied corpse still made me somewhat uncomfortable, just like the dead bandit archer back in the cave.

It was unsettling, but nothing I couldn't handle. Ignoring the pungent stench of blood as best I could, I entered the room and found that Alius had already replaced his ratty clothes with a gambeson and padded trousers, and was now working his way into a suit of cobalt blue half-plate armor—the same suit of armor I'd noticed when I first entered Cassius' room, in fact.

He only just came in here, how is he already... wait, did he just strip everything off without a care for who was watching?!

I thought about it for a second, but ultimately decided not to worry about it. I hadn't seen anything after all, and if Havik or Mauri noticed, they hadn't said anything and didn't seem to care either way. For her part, Havik was on the opposite side of the room, standing in front of what I could only assume was some kind of large iron safe sat atop one of the many shelves.

From where I stood, I could see that the safe had a built-in lock that required some kind of key. Havik was leaning close to the safe and fiddling with the lock, though I couldn't quite make out what she was doing. I could see the growing frustration on her face and decided not to bother her. Instead, I scanned the room for my own pilfered belongings.

Thankfully, it didn't take me long to spot what I was looking for. At the very top of another shelf, near where Alius was strapping into his armor, I found my large travel bag. On a wall rack, not too far from that, was my rifle. Satisfied that I knew where the gun was, I left it alone for the moment and checked my bag to make sure everything was still in there. It all seemed to be, save for one thing.

I frowned and re-checked the contents, then checked it all again. Panicking slightly, I checked a fourth time, and still didn't find what I was looking for. Given how interested Cassius seemed to be in my Spellblade, I shouldn't have been surprised he might've taken it, but I couldn't help the mix of worry and anger as I turned to look around the room.

Where did he put it? Where's the journal?

Trying to quell my rising anger and panic, I did another sweep of the room, even going so far as to search Cassius' desk. While I didn't find Requis' journal, I did find a scroll sealed with a bit of black string in one of the desk drawers. I also found, by sheer luck, that the same drawer had a false bottom, beneath which I found an old iron key.

I pulled both items from the desk and looked over each of them curiously, my anger and panic briefly forgotten. Making up my mind, I set the key down on the desk and was about to untie the string keeping the scroll sealed when I heard Alius call out to me from behind.

“What's that you've got there?” he asked, walking over to me as he affixed and adjusted a scabbard on his belt, “Something interesting, I hope.”

I looked him over.

The man hadn't looked very impressive in his prison attire, the only thing really striking about him being his clear, ocean blue eyes. Now, though, Alius Tempus cut quite the striking figure in his cobalt blue armor. The sword at his hip looked to be a simple, practical thing. A longsword with a basic silver crossguard and brown leather grip. I couldn't say anything about the blade itself given it was sheathed, but I imagined it, too, was fairly simple.

I, in comparison, still looked like I'd just walked out of a slaughterhouse. My adventurer's tunic would've been perfectly serviceable had it not been for the dark and crusty red-brown stains. I'd taken the opportunity to sling my own sword, scabbard and all, over my shoulder, the baldric keeping the sheath securely in place.

“You look good,” I replied, setting my thoughts aside and deciding a compliment was in order, “the armor suits you surprisingly well.”

“Ah, well, I'm glad to hear you think so,” Alius chuckled, looking himself over and adjusting his belt, “I've lost a bit of weight since I last wore this old thing, but I'm happy to find it still fits well enough.” Nodding in satisfaction, Alius nodded towards the scroll in my hand, “Now, what's that all about?”

“Not sure,” I replied, frowning at the bit of rolled up parchment, “I found it in Cassius' desk—” I nodded toward the desk “—along with that key.”

“Key?” came Havik's hopeful voice from where she stood by the safe, “What key?”

I'd been trying to ignore the woman's increasingly loud and violent expletives as she tried, and presumably failed, to get the safe open. Now she perked up, turning to look around for the key I'd mentioned. She spotted the thing on the desk soon enough and hurried over to snatch it up with a relieved, “Oh, thank the fucking Goddesses!”

Alius and I watched as Havik placed a small tool that looked a bit like a screwdriver back into a hidden pocket beneath her breastplate and raced back over to the safe. I didn't get so much as a nod of thanks for finding what was apparently the key to the safe, but I chose not to hold it against Havik. That was just the kind of woman she was.

And I found the thing by complete chance anyway.

I shook my head and was about to return my attention to the scroll, when my curiosity got the better of me. I found the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to know what was in the safe. I had a pretty good idea what Havik was looking for, but there was also the chance that Cassius might've decided to put the journal in there as well.

I hadn't been able to find it anywhere else, and given how valuable the knowledge was, it would only make sense. With that in mind, I followed Havik to the safe. I heard Alius sigh, but he followed me a moment later. Whether he was also curious or was just humoring me, I didn't know or particularly care. We both watched as Havik used the old key to open the safe.

The first thing that caught my eye was the small round shield, about 50 centimeters in diameter. The shield was made of a black metal with a gilded edge and the stylized image of a snarling bear's head painted in gold on the front. The shield—a targe according to Havik—looked like it had seen plenty of use over the years, but still somehow gave off a feeling of impenetrability.

“There you are,” Havik muttered as she almost reverently reached into the safe and pulled out the small shield, “finally back where you belong.”

She completely ignored the time-worn journal resting against the front of the shield as she retrieved her targe. She let the precious piece of history fall right out of the safe, where it would have hit the ground had I not used telekinesis to save it. Resting it back in my hand, I confirmed that it was indeed the journal of Requis the Wise. Letting out a sigh of relief, I used my magic to float the ancient text over to my travel bag.

I slipped it inside and closed the bag before turning back to the safe. The iron lockbox was big, but not that big. It was more deep than it was tall, with its height only just enough to contain Havik's shield. A lot of what was left behind the shield appeared to be more scrolls and various other types of documents. Other than that, I didn't see anything else of interest.

Havik was busy examining her targe, looking it over, testing its weight. She slipped it onto her right arm and took a few steps back before unsheathing her sword and shifting into some sort of battle stance. Her stance was low, with her shield arm and right foot forward and her sword arm lowered to her hip with the blade facing slightly out and back.

I watched her move the shield as if to block some incoming attacks and make a few rapid thrusts with her sword a few times. I'd known she was a capable warrior before, but with the shield added, her movements looked a lot more easy and efficient. Comfortable, almost. She made the moves look simple when I was sure they were anything but.

So, this is her true fighting style, then? Could she beat Mauri now, I wonder?

I didn't get a chance to wonder for long, as Alius caught my attention. To my surprise, he stepped past me with a polite “Pardon me,” and began rifling through the documents in the safe. He would pull out a thin sheaf of papers, sort through them, frown, then put them back only to reach for another sheaf of papers. It wasn't long before my curiosity once more got the better of me.

“What are you looking for?” I finally asked, “Did Cassius take something from you, too? Besides the armor?”

“He did,” Alius replied distractedly before explaining, “I was on my way to Ruvenbor to deliver some vital details regarding a nasty fiend hiding out somewhere in the area, you see, and on the way I was—ah, here we are!”

After several tries, the ex-prisoner finally pulled out another thin sheaf of papers tied together by a dark blue string. I wasn't close enough to make out what was written on the first page, but near the bottom on the right, I could see that the page was stamped with the very familiar image of a tower shield was a crescent moon design over two crossed swords.

“That's the insignia of the Order of Nox Atra, right?” I asked with a frown, “you were delivering information to the Order? Are you... are you a member?”

“Indeed I was and indeed I am, though my home branch lies across the Celestial Sea, far beyond Vale's borders,” Alius replied as he tucked the documents away in a rectangular leather pouch attached to his belt. Once the reports were secure, he turned to me with a strangely intense look as he continued, “It's a terribly long story and I would be glad to tell it another time, but right now, I'm more interested in you, Miss Sparkle.”

“Me?” I asked, bemused and slightly taken aback, “What about me?”

“Ha, listen to this one! 'What about me' she says!” he chortled, shaking his head in disbelief. He sighed, then gave me that strangely intense look again, “Miss Sparkle. Amethyst. You are a Spellblade wielder. A true Spellblade wielder. You wield the kind of arcane power most men will never see in their lifetimes, as easily as one would draw breath.”

“Oh... right. That.” I grimaced and tore my eyes from his focused stare, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. Though Cassius had reminded me earlier of how shocking such abilities were to the people of this world, I was so used to my own magic by now that I'd already completely forgotten. Unsure what to say in response, I just shrugged. “Well... y'know. It is what it is, I guess.”

“Bet she also never mentioned that she's a bloodthirsty psychopath,” Havik called as she moved through another series of thrusts and parries before sheathing her blade once more. She gave Alius a wicked grin when he turned to look questioningly at her. “The only reason Cassius even knew about her in the first place was because she slaughtered all of my men and most of the bandits that came to take her back to Cassius. And she laughed while she did it.”

I winced as Alius rounded on me with a look that was somehow both bewildered and assessing. I wanted to argue the point, but the truth was... I couldn't. Havik was absolutely right. There was clearly something wrong with me—something that was, as of right now, beyond my control. I tried to push it down, but in reality, I was worried about the likely imminent struggle against Cassius.

There's no telling if or when that madness will take me again. I really need to find out what's happening to me and how to stop it, but I don't even know where to begin looking for answers...

I didn't say anything as Alius looked me up and down. His concerned yet thoughtful gaze lingered on my bloody tunic. After a second, he cleared his throat and scratched at his neck awkwardly before giving me a helpless smile. “Well, I suppose we all have our quirks,” he finally said, then shrugged, “I've worked with my fair share of odd characters back home.”

“Oh?” Havik said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall near the locked iron door at the back of the room, “You get many folks like her in the Order?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Alius sighed, “more than a few. Mostly those driven mad by past traumas. Having your family killed in front of you or your village razed to the ground by monsters tends to make one a little... unhinged.”

“Really?” Havik raised an eyebrow before turning her golden eyes on me, “And what about you, purple locks? What's your excuse?”

“I... well, I... uh...” I hesitated, but decided to throw caution to the wind and tell her and Alius both what happened. Alius was a member of the Order, so I figured he might know something about my condition. So, taking a deep breath, I spoke, “I kind of... killed a monster, and it infected me somehow. A poison that makes you insane, maybe? I don't know.”

“A monster, you say?” Alius asked, his brow furrowing, “what monster was this?”

“I don't know what it is or where it came from,” I replied, “but from what I've heard, people call it the Headhunter.”

Just saying the name seemed to bring back that oppressive feeling of malice and bloodthirst. I could feel myself breaking out in a cold sweat and tried to suppress the fear and anxiety welling up within me. I was so overwhelmed by the sensation that it took me a second to realize the other two hadn't reacted to my words.

I refocused my attention and saw that both Havik and Alius were on full alert. Hands on their swords and eyes darting about, they looked as if they were preparing to be ambushed at any moment. This confused me, until Havik spoke, and that's when I realized that feeling of malice and bloodthirst wasn't just in my head.

“Damn, looks like we might be out of time,” Havik muttered as she warily scanned the room for threats, “Either of you feel that?”

“A fiend,” Alius replied, his voice more severe than I'd ever heard it before, “and a powerful one at that. But where...?”

“Wait, this is coming from a fiend? But Cassius...” Havik paused, her face twisting in bemusement for some reason. Then she turned to me with a strange expression I couldn't quite parse, and her next words confused me. “Damn... maybe you really are a devil bitch...”

Before I had time to even guess at what she meant, Alius spoke, his tone urgent. “Miss Sparkle, that scroll. Let me see it, quickly,” he said, holding out a hand to accept the rolled up bit of parchment I'd forgotten I'd been holding on to all this time.

I looked from Alius to the scroll, then back to Alius. The man had a calculating expression, like he was trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together in his head as he waited for me to give him the scroll in question. Having no reason to refuse him, I handed the sealed scroll over, and it practically vanished from my hand as he snatched it away.

I shared a look with Havik and we both watched as Alius removed the string keeping the scroll closed and unfurled it. His eyes moved back and forth as he read the letter and with each passing second, his face grew more and more pale—his grim expression morphing into a white mask of horror. Eventually, the piece of parchment slipped from his shaking fingers, but he paid it no mind as he slowly turned to stare at the metal door with the heavy padlock at the back of the room.

“Those bastards,” he hissed in a shaky whisper. His trembling hands clenched into trembling fists and anger bled into the fear on his face, “so that's why... the reports of spies, Grynda's strange movements in Flumaen... it was all a cover... This whole damn war is a bloody farce...”

I tried to figure out what Alius was talking about, but I was quickly losing track of the situation. I remembered talking to Mauri about Vale's war with Grynda and vaguely recalled her mentioning something about a port city called Flumaen. I also remembered Mauri telling me that there was a big worry about Gryndan spies in and around Ruvenbor, but beyond the important points, the conversation was hazy in my mind.

I followed Alius' gaze to the locked metal door and tried to peer through the small iron bars in the small window built into the door, but all I could see was complete darkness. Still, the closer I tried to look, the stronger that sinister sensation seemed to grow, and I had to look away after a point. Instead, I turned to see what Havik thought of all this, but her eyes were on the letter that had fallen to the floor.

I was shocked to see that her expression had grown just as pale and horrified as Alius'. When I looked down at the piece of parchment, it took me a second to realize what had Havik so spooked, but then I saw yet another insignia stamped upon the letter and I understood. The discussion I had with Mauri back in the cave ran through my mind as I stared at the image of a wispy black butterfly imprinted upon the bottom of the letter.

“The Cult?” Havik whispered, her voice shaking with fear and barely suppressed rage, “that fucker is with the Cult?”

Cassius was evidently a member of the Cult of the Black Butterfly—that, or he had some other connection to them. Thinking back on the man and his eerie look and presence, it made perfect sense to me. I wasn't at all surprised at the revelation and, in fact, that was just more reason to kill the man—an outcome I was becoming disturbingly okay with.

“We need to leave,” Alius said suddenly. He walked over to where he'd dropped the letter and bent down to pick it back up. Placing it in his rectangular pouch with the other documented he'd collected, he turned to me and Havik, “I have to make for Ruvenbor as soon as possible. Both the Order and the King need to know of what has transpired here and of the twisted game the Cult is playing within the shadows.”

“Leave?” Havik scoffed, then snarled, “I'm not leaving until I've gutted that son of a bitch. I don't care what you need to do. I'm gonna tear out Cassius' fucking throat before I go anywhere.”

Alius was in Havik's face before I could blink, his mouth creased down in a grim scowl as he hissed, “I understand your need for vengeance, but we can't stay here.” He cast the locked metal door a side glance before looking back to Havik. “There is more at play here than any of us realize. Cassius will pay his dues, but now is not the time to—”

“You don't understand shit!” Havik snapped, shoving Alius back and glaring at him with eyes full of fire, “That man—that worm—needs to die, and I'm gonna be the one to kill him, got it? I don't give a fuck about your 'bigger picture'.” She reached down and ripped her sword out of its scabbard before holding it up for Alius to see as she said in a slow, dangerous tone, “The only thing I care about, is plunging this blade through that man's skull.”

You're quite welcome to try, little barbarian princess of the North...

A chill ran down my spine as the androgynous voice echoed from seemingly everywhere at once. The condescending tone did nothing to hide the absolute fury in Cassius' voice. All eyes in the room snapped to the open doorway at the sound. Outside, I could see both Burkin and Mauri backing away from the edge of the pit, their swords drawn and their bodies tensing in preparation for a fight.

“If you three are quite done in there, I highly suggest you join us out here,” Mauri called out without taking her eyes from the pit, “I think the situation might be a bit more... harrowing than we expected.”

I looked to Havik and Alius, who both shared brief looks. Havik gave the man one last sneer before adjusting the targe on her right arm and rushing out of the room to join Mauri and Burkin outside. Alius watched her go with a strained, frustrated expression, then gave a resigned sigh before drawing forth his own sword. He looked at me.

“I pray the magic of the Spellblade wielders is as powerful as the legends claim it to be,” he said before giving me a rueful smile, “now then, let's try to finish this quickly, shall we?”

He didn't wait for me to give an answer as he dashed past the desk and followed Havik out of the room. I was left standing there as I tried to collect my thoughts. So many things had come to light in the past few minutes that I felt entirely lost. Rather than answers, I had far more questions now than ever before. Unfortunately, though, I couldn't afford to dwell on them.

Cassius was awake, and from the sound of it, he was crawling his way back up. I had to act, and this time, I wouldn't hesitate to act. I didn't feel the familiar malicious glee bubbling up from the depths of where that madness had taken root, and prayed it would stay that way as I, too, headed out of the room to face whatever Cassius was.

It was just as I arrived to join the rest of the group, my hands glowing with unreleased magic, that Cassius made his appearance. I had to bite back a horrified scream at what had quite literally crawled out of the pit. It was Cassius, but at the same time, it was nothing like the man. It wasn't a man at all, in fact. The thing that emerged from the pit was closer to a spider than anything else, but that wasn't quite right either.

Six long, pale, spindly limbs jutted out from the back of Cassius' robes, which he used to work his way slowly up the massive tree roots like some kind of humanoid insect. His original arms and legs had also grown significantly in length, but rather than use them to crawl, the limbs twitched and jerked sporadically, like he was suffering a seizure.

And then there was his face.

Each and every movement of his body was entirely unnatural and creepy, but his face remained completely passive. So passive, in fact, that I was certain it actually was a porcelain mask. I was proven right when his face began to split and crack in various places. It wasn't just his face either, but all of his limbs had small cracks, all of which oozed a foul and viscous grey-black pus.

Something in my mind turned over at the sight, but Cassius spoke before I could place the thought. Again, his voice echoed out eerily from every corner of the room, and again I was struck by how utterly repulsive the creature was. The burning need to end his existence mixed strangely with my fear, and I wasn't sure exactly what I was feeling at the moment.

I hadn't wanted it to come to this... ah, but such is life, I suppose... I've important work to do here, and I can't afford such setbacks. This dilemma warrants a proper response, so I hope you'll forgive my wretched state as I do what needs to be done.

Episode VII – The Bandits ~ End

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I hadn't had any time to mentally prepare myself before Cassius lunged from the thick wall of roots. His six spindly, bone-white limbs were all needle-sharp edges and nightmarish grace as the spider-like bandit leader used them, along with his full weight, to bear down on the nearest victim. Mauri, being the closest to the edge of the pit, had no choice but to dive to one side in a frantic roll. It almost wasn't enough to save her, despite her lightning-quick reaction.

The moment Cassius landed, he flicked one of the limbs out toward Mauri just as she came out of her rolling dodge. Caught off guard, Mauri only just managed to bring her blade up in time to knock aside a stab aimed directly at her throat. She would've had to fend off another strike if not for Burkin deciding to jump in at that moment on Cassius' other side. Somehow the burly man had been able to get his buckler hefted onto the arm not already wielding the shortsword despite his pulverized hand.

Bringing his buckler up to block a surprise jab at his face from another of the spidery legs, Burkin pressed forward and swung at the offending limb with a bellowing battle cry. The man was shockingly fast for his size, but Cassius was faster still, jerking the leg back before it could be lopped off. More limbs struck out as Havik joined the fray. The blonde warrior rushed in with a vicious snarl, batting aside two more limbs with her targe shield before deftly slipping under the stabbing appendages and thrusting forward with her pale white blade.

The attack was meant to take Cassius in the chest, but the monstrous bandit leader leveraged his remaining two arachnoid limbs to yank himself out of range of Havik's assault. In a blur of motion, he pulled all his legs back and crouched low before leaping away and back onto the wall, where he eyed each of us in turn with what felt like an assessing gaze on his cracked and oozing mask of a face.

The entire exchange only took a handful of seconds, during which I realized then that I didn't belong here—not in a fight like this. I had magic, sure. I had powerful telekinesis and another spell I hadn't even used yet, both facts I'd completely forgotten when my mind went blank in the brief chaos, but I was no warrior. Not really. Every time I was consumed by madness, I just let my bloodlust take over and my body did the rest.

Now? Now my violent insanity was nowhere to be seen, and I was thankful for that, but without it, I'd locked up. Despite my magic. despite my unnatural strength and recovery. Despite the fact that I was one of these so-called legendary Spellblade wielders. Despite all of that, I was no warrior. Not only was I not a fighter, I was the literal Princess of Friendship in a past life. Someone like that didn't belong on a battlefield, and that became horrifyingly clear to me as I watched the brief but violent exchange.

I can't do this...

The thought came unbidden, my fear and doubt so suddenly overwhelming that I didn't even notice as the magic enveloping my hands winked out.

I can't do this... I can't...

I looked from the other three, whose intense gazes were all locked on the abomination Cassius had become, to Cassius himself. My heart skipped a beat and I flinched as my eyes met Cassius' own. He watched me, pulling his attention away from the others to stare directly at me. I couldn't read the expression on his porcelain mask-like features at first, and for a long second, we just stared at each other.

And then something in his face shifted. His stiff, dispassionate features didn't change, but his face suddenly moved, as if something beneath it were squirming about. More of that dark grey pus bubbled out of the cracks in his ceramic veneer and just for an instant, I could've sworn the man smiled.

And suddenly I was back in the cabin, the stench of blood and some horrid eldritch foulness permeating the air as I stood helpless, terrified, horrified, body numb and staring death in the face even as it grinned back at me. Bile threatened to rise from my stomach as terror and confusion and a cold and bitter rage I couldn't explain or comprehend all warred within me, vying for my attention.

It's happening again, isn't it?

I can feel myself falling away again, down into that bubbling madness.

I don't want to... I don't want to... but I can't do this... I can't—

"Amethyst!"

The world snapped back into focus and I cried out as I was violently shoved off my feet. The last thing I saw before I was sent sprawling near Cassius' office was a brief flash of steel and a spray of dark ooze. A loud hiss of what might've been pain and irritation resounded from somewhere nearby, the noise quickly followed by a cacophony of clinking and clanging metal, the shifting and shuffling of boots and cloth, and the grunts and cries of expended effort.

As I hurriedly scrambled back to my feet, I took in the sight of a battle renewed and already well underway. It only took me a few seconds to realize I'd been pushed out of the way of an incoming attack, and given how close Alius was, I could only assume he'd been the one to save me. Focusing on him, I couldn't help but stare in awe. The man was a machine when it came to combat.

His face was set and his expression one of calm focus, even as he parried and weaved around Cassius' many extra limbs—one of which had been severed at the farthest joint from Cassius' body. Dark grey ichor sprayed continuously out of the wound, but Cassius paid it no mind or rather had no time to as he was assaulted on all sides by Mauri, Havik, Burkin, and Alius. The bandit leader had been unnaturally fast and agile in his human form, and that was doubly so in his eerie arachnoid form.

Cassius avoided far more hits than he took considering he was up against four skilled combatants at once. Even then, for as well as he was doing for himself, he was still up against four opponents, and what's more, not a one of those opponents was a pushover. Mauri, much like Cassius himself, was all deadly grace and impossible speed, her exotic emerald blade little more than a blur as she struck, evaded, countered, and more or less danced around the cultist-turned-bandit-leader.

Burkin wasn't nearly as fast, but with his sheer strength, solid sword and shield technique, and seemingly inexhaustible endurance he didn't need to be. From what I could tell, the hulking bandit took the most hits from Cassius out of the four, but none of his admittedly superficial wounds bothered him. He just kept pressing the attack without so much as a single flinch at the damage he accrued. It made me wonder; if he was this good with a sword and shield, what kind of skill did he have with that massive single-edged axe on his back?

And then there was Havik, whose strikes looked somehow both vicious and effortless all at once. Out of the four, Havik seemed the most relentless—lashing out like a wild, snarling animal even as she displayed superb technique in her jabs, thrusts, and counters. There were years of practice behind her blade, but there was just as much talent to go along with it. But where Havik's skills had a sort of primal beauty to them, Alius was the epitome of efficiency.

He looked like he prioritized economy of motion above all else, barely moving an inch from where he stood. To put it simply, the man was water. He was a constantly shifting river flowing through and around each and every thrusting limb Cassius sent his way, and yet his foundation was as sturdy as a mountain. Each dodge transitioned smoothly into a counterstrike, which flowed into another evasive maneuver that shifted into a blindingly fast swing at an exposed limb or vital organ.

Not a single movement was wasted, and watching Alius, I couldn't help but think even Mauri would be hard-pressed in every way to take him on. In short, they were all monsters in their own right, but that didn't mean they were infallible. Despite their high levels of skill, minor wounds were piling up on all sides and fatigue was beginning to weigh the four down. Alius, alarmingly, looked like he was growing especially winded as he fought. Even among all the frenetic motion, I could clearly see his determined face shining with sweat.

It was only then that I realized I'd been little other than standing there just outside the doorway to Cassius' office, watching open-mouthed as the others put their lives on the line to kill the twisted thing that was the bandit leader and cultist. I had no idea how long I'd been standing in a stupor, but the sight of each of their strained faces jolted me out of my shock.

They're all so powerful, but... if this goes on...

If this went on, Cassius was going to overpower them. Yes, he was taking plenty of damage, but despite the ichor spilling freely from his many wounds, the creature showed no signs of exhaustion. Meanwhile, Mauri and the others looked like it was taking everything they had to keep going. If this went on, one or more of them was bound to make a fatal mistake, and someone would likely die as a result.

No...

No... not if I can help it...

I wasn't a warrior.

I couldn't move like they could. I couldn't wield my own sword with such grace or finesse or precision or ferocity. Maybe, in time, I could learn to fight as well as they did—in fact, I resolved then and there to do just that if we all made it out of this—but for now, I was no swordswoman. No, I was a Spellblade wielder, and while I could do little with the blade, the spells were an entirely different matter.

I can do this... I can do this... just need to concentrate on my own strengths for now...

I wanted desperately to take a deep, calming breath, but I didn't have time for that. It was quite literally time to do or die, and so I drew on the remnants of that strange rage I'd felt earlier and raised one hand. Then, with a mental and instinctual flex of my magic, I called on the spells I'd been too stunned and terrified to use until now. I watched Cassius, focusing on the perfect moment to intervene, but started when the cultist snapped his gaze in my direction.

The moment my hands lit up with my unreleased magic, Cassius had picked up on it, and even as he struggled against the other four combatants, his blank expression never left me. If anything, it was as if his struggles were growing more desperate, and that, more than anything, fueled both the rage and confidence in my actions.

Is that... fear?

I frowned thoughtfully, my own fear giving way to realization. A moment later, I let an uncharacteristically vicious grin cross my face as I looked the so-called fiend dead in the eye.

It is fear...

He's scared... Terrified even...

...Good.

And with that, I took a chance during a split-second lull in the fight and snatched Cassius up in a telekinetic hold... or I tried to. The cultist seized up, his body wrapped in a bright magenta glow, but to my immediate shock and horror, the grip I had on the fiend was oddly slippery—like if I wasn't careful, he'd slide right out of my magical grasp. The distraction was enough for the others to get in their own free strikes, none of them missing a beat.

But still, that wasn't enough.

Why?! I never had any trouble with this before, so why?! Why can't I... hold him?!

Cassius continued to struggle, the bandit leader letting out an unnatural echoing hiss of outrage as he thrashed against his thaumic restraints. The attacks he suffered didn't bother him, as though the only thing that mattered was escape. If things went on like this, he may very well have gotten his wish. Keeping hold of him was getting harder and harder by the second, and as I fought to hold him down, an idea struck me.

My other spell!

With a cry of effort, I willed more of my magic into my hands and yanked both arms up, wrenching Cassius into the air at the same time. A horrible draining exhaustion I'd never felt before washed over me suddenly, but I ignored it. I also chose to ignore the others wearily stumbling to a stop mid-attack as they tried not to hit one another. Instead, I concentrated on the bandit leader above me.

With both arms raised, I shifted my outstretched hands into a grasping motion, as if grabbing hold of something between them. Above, the magenta glow around Cassius' body vanished and a large semi-translucent bubble of radiant magenta energy snapped into place, trapping the man-spider inside. Cassius' reaction was instant. Now free of his telekinetic bonds, he lashed out, attacking his new prison with renewed fervor.

No... No! Cassius hissed, his defiant voice resonating across the entirety of the ruined antechamber, Something like this...! I won't fall to something like this! Too much to do! So much work yet unfinished! This wretched magic will not hold me! It cannot!

I winced in pain, each blow from one of his limbs like a small but insistent hammer to my mind. But I held on nonetheless, not losing focus for a moment as I held him aloft. The fury in his voice was plain for all to hear, but I could also hear the cold fear in his words, and that was enough to push me forward. Through narrowed eyes, grit teeth, and a feral growl of effort, I began to squeeze and compress. Both my arms shook as I tried to push my grasping hands together against an invisible force.

Above, the barrier I'd conjured started to gradually shrink. The idea had been a hasty thing, but given my instinctual knowledge of how the spell worked, I was certain I could pull it off with some exertion on my part. Seeing the results, I'd been right, but the process was so much more draining than I could've imagined. It took almost everything I had just to keep Cassius in the barrier, let alone compress the bubble with him in it.

It only became that much harder when he noticed what I was doing because his struggles grew more frantic. Still, I kept pushing, kept pressing inward against the strain. I wasn't sure how long I'd been at it, but eventually, the world fell away, and the only things I could see were my hands slowly closing in and the radiant bubble of magic growing smaller and smaller. My muscles ached, my nose bled, and my teeth were gnashing together so hard I was afraid they might crack, but I ignored all of that.

Almost... Almost...

Cassius was screaming something else, but I was too far gone to hear whatever it was. As the strain increased, the rage grew to match it, and as the rage increased the strain grew easier to bear. It was a cycle that was probably taking a nightmarish toll on my body, but at that moment, I couldn't care less. The only thing that mattered to me was that I had Cassius right where I wanted him, and if I could just push myself a little harder, push the spell just a little farther...

Die... Die... Die. Die. Die. DiediediedieDIEDIEDIE—

"Just... DIE ALREADY!!!"

With a roar that tore itself from my throat, I forced everything I had left into one last push and slammed my hands together with a loud crack. Overhead, a horrible wailing hiss of agony rang out, the sound quickly followed by a grotesque series of cracks, crunches, and squelches as the barrier fell in on itself and crushed the fiendish cultist within. I watched what was left of the barrier snap out of existence and the compressed viscera of what was once Cassius fall to the floor, hitting the edge of the ruined stone floor with a wet plop before falling into the pit below.

A deep sense of satisfaction and relief washed over me as I saw the small orb of meat, bone, ichor, and cloth disappear over the edge. I wanted to smile, but I found I no longer had the strength to. It was around that time that I realized I'd fallen over at some point and had been watching the aftermath from a prone position on the cold stone floor. Given the thousands of painful pins and needles stabbing into every inch of my body, it was hardly a wonder that I didn't feel my legs finally give out.

As if that wasn't enough, those small hammers tapping at my head had turned into full-blown mallets smashing into my skull. Everything hurt, but the pain paled in comparison to the sense of accomplishment welling up inside of me. I'd done it. Cassius was dead by my hand, my sanity was kept in check, and we all survived. Wanting to confirm that last part, I looked over to the others to see most of them looking back at me with an interesting mix of expressions.

Like me, Alius had fallen to the floor, though he lay on his back as he panted with exhaustion, his chest heaving and most of his features covered by his now sweaty mop of dark brown hair. He looked like he wanted to be awestruck, but didn't quite have the energy to fully commit to the expression. Both Havik and Burkin were also panting heavily as they sat back against the wall. Burkin's gaze as he took me in was steady but wary. Havik was flat-out glaring at me but didn't say anything as she continued to catch her breath.

Mauri was the only one who looked like she had it together for the most part. She sat cross-legged at the center of what was left of the antechamber floor, her eyes closed and her breathing deep and controlled. She'd already sheathed her sword and the scabbard sat across her lap as she... meditated? Havik had also returned her sword to its sheath, but Burkin still held onto his shortsword and shield and Alius opted to let the naked blade of his longsword rest by his side.

For a few long moments, the only sound that could be heard throughout the ruined antechamber was the heavy panting of the battle-weary and my own pained groans. I wanted nothing more than to pass out right then, but not only would the muscle pain not let me, but I wouldn't have allowed myself to anyway. I'd done enough of that already and now that I had a moment to reflect, I knew we were far from out of the woods yet—both literally and figuratively.

If I passed out now, I'd just drag the others down. Again.

Granted, I was in no shape to carry my own weight as it was, but still. I wasn't sure passing out would help matters if we ran into more trouble. Moreover, I couldn't help ruminating on why I ended up in such a state to begin with. My magic had never pushed my body this hard before—or at all from what I could remember since it awakened back in the cabin... but then again, was that really true?

I'd been a mess after dealing with the Headhunter, sure, but now that I thought back on it, was that mostly because of my injuries or the magic I'd exerted to crush the Headhunter? I couldn't quite remember, but I knew my body had grown weaker after using so much magic. What's more, as I recalled that night, I started to realize just how similar this situation was to back then. The fear, the rage, and above all, the way I used that rage to fuel my magic.

Is there some kind of connection?

Back then, my fury was justifiable; the Headhunter had killed Jack and the real Jessie and it had been trying to kill me. The rage I felt when I caught Cassius' eye felt more irrational, but when I looked deeper, I saw that it came from a familiar place. Beyond that, I wasn't sure just yet, but I had some ideas. Getting back to how strenuous my magic had been to cast and the heavy toll pushing it so far had taken, I tried to remember when I'd used it like that before.

Aside from killing the Headhunter, I couldn't think of a single time I'd used my magic to attack someone directly—not while I was sane. Even then, didn't I always end up in a terrible state regardless? I just... never felt the strain until now. Not this strongly. There was something there, I was certain, but thinking about it through a pounding migraine wasn't doing me any favors. The pain was distracting enough, but I was further derailed when Alius finally spoke up.

"Well..." he panted before letting out an exhausted half-sigh, half-groan from where he lay, "I'm all for a little exercise after being cooped up in that cell for Goddesses know how long, but this... was more of a workout than I feel was warranted, I think."

"Oh?" came Mauri's teasing voice from where she still sat, one eye open and watching the weary man, "You seem to have weathered the storm fairly well for a man so out of practice."

"Yes well," Alius gave a weak chuckle before lifting a hand to pat his chest, "Years of training and all that. My old instructor all but beat his teachings into me long before I joined the Order. Even if my mind forgets, my body never will," his wry smile fell into a bitter grimace as he stared up at the open night sky past the broken ceiling and he continued in a low mutter, "A right bastard he was, but a damn good teacher in the end, I suppose..."

"No kidding," Mauri agreed with a nod, "Your skills are something to be admired, given your age."

"I'm sorry, my... age?" Alius raised his head enough to give Mauri a quizzical look, "I'm no fogey, but I'd hardly call myself young, Miss Bandal," he paused, then looked the smaller woman up and down and a light seemed to flicker to life in his head, "Ah, I see... you wouldn't happen to be of the Djävago, would you?"

Mauri just smirked back at the man in response.

"Of course," Alius grumbled before letting his head flop back down with a sigh, "What's thirty-six years to one of your kind?"

"Little more than a child, Mister Tempus," Mauri replied with a little too much enthusiasm. The enthusiasm died quickly as the woman finally turned her attention to me, "Now if we could stop avoiding the phantalo in the room for a moment, are you okay, Amethyst? I have seen you use magic before, and it has never left you in such a state."

"I wonder about that," I mumbled, barely able to get my mouth to work, "but I think... I'll be fine. Just need some time... to rest," I tried to raise my head, winced at the pain, and gave up and dropped it back to the ground, "Sorry, but I don't think... I'll be much help for a while."

"Well that's fucking fantastic," Havik growled, finally speaking up as she pulled a waterskin from... somewhere and took a large swig from it before pressing on, her tone bitter, "As if snatching my vengeance out from under me wasn't enough, you went and turned yourself into a useless sack of shit for us to lug around."

"Havik—" Burkin began in a warning tone, but Havik cut him off as she jabbed an accusatory finger in my direction.

"No, Burk, we had him. We had him, and this bitch—"

"Saved our lives," Mauri cut in, rounding on the other woman, "We 'had him'?" she scoffed, "We had nothing! We were all on our last legs by the time Amethyst stepped in and you know it! Had she not intervened, we would have all died like dogs!"

"Ladies, please," Alius tried as he finally propped himself on his arms to look between Havik and Mauri, his voice full of consternation, "I hardly think this is the time to—"

"Speak for yourself, half-pint!" Havik snapped back, completely ignoring Alius as she rose to her feet, "Maybe you were flagging, but I had the bastard right where I wanted him!"

"Bullshit!" Mauri replied with a derisive laugh, "I saw you! You did not make so much as a dent in his defenses!"

I wanted to interject, but I just didn't have it in me to do anything about the escalating argument. All I could do was watch with increasing worry as the two sniped at each other, both women now on their feet and getting in each other's faces. Alius was still looking for a chance to intervene and Burkin, who still sat against the wall, just looked at the squabbling pair with a long-suffering scowl.

"Alius is right," I tried, "I don't... think we should be arguing like this... while we're still surrounded by bandits... we need to get out of here..."

To my surprise, the two paused and glanced in my direction before looking around the room. Everyone had sustained at least some kind of damage, but none of their wounds, aside from maybe Burkin's were bad enough that they couldn't function. Burkin, for his part, had a particularly nasty puncture wound in the bicep of his sword arm but didn't seem bothered by that or any of his wounds.

Perhaps seeing the state they were all in and realizing where they still were, Havik and Mauri let the matter drop, though they continued to glare at each other. Alius gave a not-so-subtle sigh of relief and Burkin grunted in satisfaction before sheathing his sword and standing up from where he sat. Without another word, the massive bandit walked over to where I lay, bent down, and yanked me off the ground with his good hand as if I weighed little more than a pillow.

He ignored my surprised squawk and following groan of pain at having been moved so suddenly as he hoisted me over one shoulder and turned to the others. He paused a moment to look each one of the other warriors in the eye, his own flinty grey eyes boring into theirs before he finally nodded toward the spiral staircase leading down and spoke again.

"Let's go."

"W-Wait!" I called out. I struggled in Burkin's grip a bit, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best and ultimately I just gave up and accepted my role as a sack of potatoes. Too tired and in pain to do much more, I raised a hand to point back toward Cassius' office, "My bag. All my stuff is still in that room."

Burkin grunted again and made for the staircase. I thought he'd ignored me and was about to say something when he turned his head to look back at the others from over his shoulder.

"Tempus," he called back, "Make yourself useful and grab the woman's bag."

With the way I was being carried, I could see behind Burkin to where Alius was only just now starting to rise. He looked bemused for a second, looking from Burkin to the doorway, then to me, but quickly got his bearings and nodded.

"Of course," he finally replied, but was stopped just as he was turning to do just as asked by a hand yanking him back by his belt.

"Go help the big man protect my little Amethyst," Mauri said as she walked past Alius and toward the room, "I will take care of her belongings."

For a moment, Alius looked like he wanted to protest, but decided it wasn't worth it and just shook his head before following after me and Burkin. Havik watched us go for a second and I couldn't read the look on her face. Realizing the blonde warrior wasn't following after him, Burkin stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to give her a questioning frown. Havik... hesitated, then looked back toward where Mauri had entered the office.

Just for an instant, the woman looked uncertain, but the expression passed by in a flash and she scowled before making for the office as she called back to Burkin, "Go on ahead, I'll catch up in a minute."

Burkin blinked in surprise, but the frown returned quickly and he only gave a thoughtful grunt before continuing down the stairs with me in tow. Alius had already gone ahead, likely to check if the coast was clear. With nothing more to do, I was left to wonder just what it was Havik had wanted to talk with Mauri about. At least, I assumed she'd wanted to talk about something. Considering they'd been at each other's throats only a moment ago, I couldn't so much as guess what she had to say with that kind of hesitation.

Maybe she wants to apologize?

The thought brought a weary smile to my face as I was carried down the dilapidated spiral steps.

Well, one could hope...

Sparkle

by the7Saviors

Prologue – The White Void

Episode I – The Cozy Cabin

Recollection I – A Revelation

Episode II – The Old Woman

Episode III – The Guild ~ Part I

Episode III – The Guild ~ Part II

Episode III – The Guild ~ Part III

Episode III – The Guild ~ End

Episode IV – The First Leg ~ Part I

Episode IV – The First Leg ~ Part II

Episode IV – The First Leg ~ Part III

Recollection II – Temptation and Resolve

Episode IV – The First Leg ~ End

Episode V – The Mansion ~ Part I

Episode V – The Mansion ~ Part II

Episode V – The Mansion ~ End

Episode VI – The Hideout ~ Part I

Episode VI – The Hideout ~ Part II

Episode VI – The Hideout ~ Part III

Episode VI – The Hideout ~ End

Recollection III – The Book of Stones

Episode VII – The Bandits ~ Part I

Episode VII – The Bandits ~ Part II

Episode VII – The Bandits ~ Part III

Episode VII – The Bandits ~ Part IV

Episode VII – The Bandits ~ End